So after our time in Sandy Island, we checked out of Grenada and sailed the short distance to a new country, St Vincent and the Grenadines. At the southern end of the Grenadines is Union Island. A beautiful spot, which is one of the best kiting locations in all of the Caribbean.
We timed our run perfectly, arriving in the anchorage of Clifton in Union Island, just as another 40 knot squall rolls through.
Few kite repairs to be done first before we hit the beach.
Ollie has been foaming at the mouth to get out there and give it a crack.
Martinique resident, Jeremy, who I met here 3 years ago, has since hung up his professional kiteboard and set up a kite school here in Clifton
Ollie up and riding
Webbo up and jumping
Never one to watch for long.
View of the kite beach and kite school
SS Cowabunga at anchor
Happy Island, the local bloke built the Island out of old Conch shells. What is a Conch Shell you ask? The part in Anchorman when Ron Burgandy blows throw a shell and says “News Team…. Assemble!!”… Conch Shell
Afternoon beers at Happy Island
Seeing as we can’t watch any of The Ashes, the boys found a local hitout at the nearby field.
There was a bit of a crowd at Happy Island one afternoon. Jeremy gets out there and puts on a show.
At one point he came into the bar, grabbed a beer, then continued to kite. Landing massive transitions one handed and not spilling a drop of his beer.
He wasn’t getting the attention he deserved, so he took it to another level, jumping over the Island
“Look Mum, no feet”
We ventured around the corner to Frigates Island, which has perfect flat water kiting.
And here it is…. after many lessons, and many, many more tears, Bucko up and riding with me and Ollie playing support
Ollie had his second lesson down at Frigates and was up and riding in no time.
Fresh Sushi, don’t mind if I do.
We ventured back to Union Island so I could have one final kite session, and that night was the Full Moon Party on the kite beach.
Bucko, Mutt, Ollie
So with the pumping music, neon lights and cheap rum punch we partied until the wee hours of the morning. Jeremy put on a show in the middle of the night, with his kite and board all lit up in glow sticks. At one point doing big jumps with a girl on his back and a flare in his hand.
It was all a bit too much for Webbo..
After a week of partying and kiting, we filled the water tanks and left Union Island behind us. Heading further north.
Ollie trying to introduce fetch to the ignorant beach dogs at Mayreau
I asked the owner of this boat if he built it himself. To which he replied, “Na man, I just customized”. What a great job he’s done too.
Bucko walking the local beach dog in Salt whistle bay
Next stop was Tobago Cays, a national park, not in Tobago, but in the Grenadines. Its pristine waters and islands make perfect snorkelling and relaxing.
Bucko lost her top, giving breast stroke a new meaning.
The gym program was abandoned over the Xmas/New years period.
The big drawcard of the Cays is the chance to swim with the Green turtles.
Webbo, Moni and Bucko on the lookout.
Although these animals are 100% wild, they couldn’t give two shits about me shoving a camera in their face. They do mind when you attempt to use them as a sea scooter.
My relationship with Microsoft Paint just keeps getting better.
The poor old harmless stingray copt a lot of flack after Steve Irwin somehow managed to wear a barb in his chest.
Because of this, Bucko thinks they are the most lethal animals in the ocean.
Relaxing on the spit
Cowabunga anchored just inside the reef on the windward side of the island in about 2 metres of water.
We went for a quick walk up the island, the girls decided to put on their hiking shoes.
Looking out over the spit, which would be the ultimate kite spot if the turtles didn’t live there.
The Crew and the Boat
The birds would come in every morning waking everyone up for their breakfast.
This cheeky bugger just helped himself.
Overlooking Tobago Cays
Another beautiful kite beach, which we don’t have to share with anyone.
Webbos last kite of the trip. He said he couldn’t leave until he landed a backroll. He did land one, but no one saw it. So I sent him back out for all to see. The end result was an inverted kite headed straight for a charter boat.
The girls sunning themselves.
We leave the Tobago Cays and make our way for Bequia. Trev, Moni, Ollie and Webbo at the helm looking out on a glorious day.
Still learning what the boat is capable of, and since we’ve left Trinidad it’s mainly been upwind work. But on the way to Bequia, we cracked the sheets with full rag in 10-15 knots and easily hitting 7-8s. Trev holding on for dear life
This guy must of been maggoted, tried to split the gap and hit the bricks instead
Christmas in Bequia is a favourite amongst yachties. It is celebrated for the week leading into it with performances every night in town.
Bucko, Anders, Moni, Webbo enjoying the not so good show
The 440Ft Serene, some $330million worth, was chartered by none other than Rhianna for the week, at a reported $3million. Bucko claims now to have spent Christmas with Rhianna
This was Chris Browns charter for the week.
Bucko working on her juggling while the boys throw the fris.
Pre party Sangria
Christmas Eve we ventured into the one night club in town. Essentially a place that plays very, very loud music. Webbo and Hi Tower
Bucko ran into her twin brother
You wouldn’t believe it, but Santa himself made it to Bequia on Xmas eve. Sporting a bloody good tan considering he lives at the north pole. Been eating a few reindeer too.
Xmas day we were pretty hungover/drunk. It’s amazing the things you do to keep yourself occupied when there’s no TV etc. A quick game of dressups. Sheppard, Elf Santa, Wise Woman, Rudolf
This was the 4am attempt at getting Trev up onto the side of the boat. “Go home Trev, you’re drunk”
Breakfast of champions
Boxing day the sun came out and the hangovers subsided
An impromptu game of beach cricket was setup by all the Aussies in the anchorage.
Post cricket jam session on board with Josh and Bart from Perth.
Over the eastern side of Bequia, Orton King has set up a turtle sanctuary for the endangered hawksbill turtle
There are tanks of these little fellas, which he hand rears to the age of 5 years. These little fellas are only a few months old.
The man himself happily showed us around.
This guy was in a dustup and had just been disinfected
Bucko having a word with this bloke who is due for release.
The anchorage at Admiralty Bay.
Would you trust this bloke pouring your rums?..
The end result..
Hitting the local club in Bequia
Once we hit St Vincent, we jumped in a local bus and headed into the capital, Kingstown. How many people can you fit in a 10 seater bus… 15 and counting. The record being 22.
Dinghy ride around to Fort Duvernette
The Fort was used in the late 18th century… Fucks me how they got the cannons to the top.
A nice little wave was found off the southern end of Young Island.
First surf of the trip. I asked the boys if they wanted to keep an eye on me in case I got into any trouble as the wave was a little sketchy…. Little did I know it was them that would get into trouble..
Webbo was caught napping out the back and managed to score the wave of the day. End result was the tender on it’s lid on the reef, while the three of us tried to get it up-right wearing sea urchins as shoes. It was a quiet paddle back to the boat, where the mission begins of un-flooding the engine.
The next day I didn’t ask the boys for a lift, I asked Trev, with surfboard in tow… He’s a much safer option.
Anchored in beautiful Petit Byahaut
With the outboard once again firing all 2 cylinders, we went around the corner from Petit Byahaut to the bat cave. A swim through, which stinks like shit, filled with thousands of small bats. Bucko above looking a little scared
Anchored outside the entrance to the cave.
There are two species of bat, the fishing bat, and the St Vincent fruit eating Bat just hanging out in here.
There is an abandoned eco resort in the bay, which we can only assume was destroyed by a Hurricane a couple years ago. A quick stroll through the jungle to find one of the old lodges.
Ruin with a view
You can just see our mast poking over the trees in the empty bay.
Webbo load testing the rickety stairs.
The 1987 Macintosh Plus PC. I remember tapping on one of these in primary school.
We decided to spend new years eve in Wallilabou bay. It was used extensively in the shooting of all three Pirates of the Caribbean movies.
One of the old sets.
You’d probably recognise this arch from the opening scenes of Pirates of the Caribbean 1.
Pirates Ye Be Warned.
Outboard back off for another carby clean and a couple new plugs.
The boys trying to get the “Spare” outboard running. We went from a nearly seized engine to one that fired… once.
Cheapest Lobsters off the trip. 5 for a bargain $25. Just add Webbo, the Weber and garlic butter.
Lunch is ready
Pre NYE shower in the local waterfall
Clean hair, ready to party.
Tony the owner of the local shack/bar on the beach. I met him here 3 years ago and I don’t remember much of that night, so it must of been good. So for NYE we decided to spend it with him, where he offered to cook up a massive feed.
The girls enjoying the spread
Webbo taking orders.
I’d been saving the biggest of the fireworks for NYE.. and they didn’t disappoint
The crew, NYE 2014. It’s fair to say that there is no place in the world where you could have such a unique NYE. Random is the word that sums it up best.
A snorkel was called upon to help with the New years day hangovers. Ollie exploring another cave.
Spotted Moray Eel sticking his head out and saying g’day.
Lionfish, are very pretty, but considered a pest around here and programs have been put in place to try and eradicate them.
We checked out of Wallilabou and headed for the next country north, St Lucia. Ollie at the helm playing chicken with a 1100Ft tanker.
Missed by that much…
Almost ran over this whale, which was just napping on the surface.
St Lucia’s famous landmarks, The Pitons… they put it on their flag, their national beer is named after them. Petit Piton Left, Gros Piton right.
With their bags packed, St Lucia marks the end of Webbos and Moni’s trip. I’m sure they’ll agree its a holiday they’ll never forget. They now face the grim reality of returning to a sub-zero Munich… and that shitty thing we know as work.