There’s something quite primitive about roasting a whole
animal over a rudimentary fire on an uninhabited island.
But at yesterday’s goat roast on Hog Island, the condiments,
cold ice and decanted wine made it all that much more modern.
A friend of ours decided that it would be a great idea to
buy a goat from a nearby farmer and meet up with a crowd to eat, drink and be
merry. And we all agreed. And it was.
And due to the enormity of meat on the average Grenadian
goat, we will have the second roast this afternoon.
It is a Friday afternoon, and yesterday was Thursday, and
none of us was worried about rush hour traffic or property taxes or our gym
membership.
We just needed to get a fire started, keep the black birds
from nabbing all the breadfruit, and keep the mosquitos and no-see-ums away
with some form of DEET spray.
Oh, and keep the beers and rum cold. Ever important in the life
of a cruiser.
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Well worn Canadian flag at Roger's beach bar |
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View from the beach - Shiloh in the background |
So although we were quite well organised, lacking any of the
land life stresses and enjoying the finest food and drink to be had, there was
something fun and primal about feeling part of the island around us, soaking in
the lapping waves and cutting up hunks of dead animal to share.