Where is the Cheapest Fuel in Grenada?

On October 10^th, Irie’s preparations to go west, started with a sailing trip north! Mark and I were anchored in Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou, and had been trying to find out where the cheapest fuel in the area was. Petite Martinique (PM) is said to be the best place and we gave them a call. When we found out that they are overcharging (about EC$2, almost US$1, a gallon), just like Prickly Bay Marina does on the south coast, we came up with an alternative. But, that wasn’t until we unsuccessfully exhausted our efforts in trying to get the folks at PM to lower their prices to what they were supposed to charge by calling them (B&C Fuels Enterprise) and the government’s Consumer Affair Unit. In Grenada, fuel prices are set by the government (http://grenadabroadcast.net/pastshows/finance) and anybody is encouraged to call them about any price discrepancies: “Furthermore, consumers are encouraged to immediately notify the Price Control/Consumer Affairs Unit in the Ministry of Finance of any instance of overpricing at telephone number 440-1369.”

Since we wanted to fill up our 33 gallon diesel tank and store a few extra jerry cans, it was worth going through the effort to find a better price. PM is still the cheapest place to find fuel in Grenada, but we decided to sail to Union Island first, to see whether Joyce was present. This cargo vessel stocks up on diesel in Venezuela and then sells it, legitimately, to anyone swinging by the boat. She usually hangs out in Clifton (or Bequia) when she is not “down south”.  Mark and I wanted to have some sailing fun and tacked upwind to Union in about three hours to arrive right in between two squalls.

Joyce, unfortunately, wasn’t around, but – after lunch break – we managed to obtain about 40 gallons of fuel from a gas station ashore (diesel: EC$ 11.31; gasoline: EC$ 13.77 per US gallon). It took us two dinghy rides to fill Irie up and have spare jerry cans. When we arrived back in Tyrrel Bay, after a slow downwind sail, the sun was about to set. It took us a full day to fulfill our quest, but we are one step closer to leaving on our sailing trip west now!

(Full story see http://xwaters.com/blogs/topic/the-cruising-life-the-art-of-getting-fuel )

One of the squalls passed just north of us once we arrived at the reef entrance of Clifton Harbour.

The blue boat looked like Joyce upon our approach, but wasn't.

We had to go to the fuel dock ashore, and walk to the street, since the diesel pump at the dock was broken.

Each time we put diesel in our tank, we pour it through a Baja filter.

Mark takes care of the second run ashore. Now we are full!

Tourist for an Afternoon

Mark and I tried to leave Prickly Bay to go to Carriacou, a few days ago. On day 1 we encountered some problems with our depth sounder and the engine, preventing us to leave.  On day 2 the wind dropped and it was impossible to sail north. We decided to leave the busy south coast of Grenada anyway and had a very slow but pleasant sail “around the corner” to the island’s west side.  For a while, we were doing 5 knots over water, feeling the movement of the boat and the rush of the waves, but our actual progress was a little over 1 knot! More than 3 knots of current against us, but we didn’t care. We were not in a hurry, we enjoyed being back on the water again (it had been almost two months since we last sailed “for real”) and we had just decided to stop at Morne Rouge, one of our favorites.

On the way to Morne Rouge Bay, we passed a pretty stretch of yellow sand called Magazine Beach. This is the location of one of Grenada’s fanciest restaurants and we actually hoped to spoil ourselves here one night, before heading west. It’s just hard to get here without your own car. Seeing the groove of palm trees, the deserted strand bordering clear water and realizing that our destination was not too far away, a plan formed for the next day… Wouldn’t it be nice to take the dinghy for a little ride and spend the afternoon in this pretty looking area?

The following morning, we caught up on some work, had lunch on Irie and … headed for the beach after packing our bag and snorkel gear. I had anticipated a half day trip; quite the expedition. I was excited at the prospect of spending an afternoon at the beach and having dinner at a renowned restaurant, two things (especially the last one) we rarely do. Yes, we do live on a boat and are often anchored in front of a nice beach, but we find the cockpit a more comfortable place to hang out. We memorized the route in our heads for the nocturnal return trip and pulled our dinghy ashore in front of the Rex Resort. The afternoon was spent in the shade of some palm trees in the company of countless (biting) insects. We read our books and snorkeled around a beautiful area of massive boulders.

Around 5:30pm we moved into The Aquarium, our restaurant of choice for a decent and unprecedented treat. I ordered a pina colada (quite a tasty change from rum & coke), but Mark stuck to beer. When dinner time arrived we moved inside and scrutinized the menu for a long while. There were so many delicious choices… Since this was a very unique occasion, we let our fantasy and budget go wild. Glass of wine and a Stag, please! After a shared appetizer of bruschetta and fresh seafood soup with homemade bread and garlic butter, we went for the glazed pork wrapped in bacon (with goat cheese, mashed potatoes and gingered carrots) and the Aquarium seafood platter containing scallops, shrimp, mahi mahi and lobster (with sides of seasoned rice and steamed vegetables). The camera stayed hidden to not interrupt this scrumptious moment. Our eyes were bigger than our mouths and reluctantly we had to admit defeat and take leftovers home. Dessert? No, thanks! We were literally exploding and out of money. A leisurely beach walk under the stars got the digestive process started and brought us back to our personal water craft home. Ah, to be(have) like a tourist!

The Aquarium Restaurant

Magazine Beach

  
Snorkeling in "the aquarium"

Seven Sisters Waterfalls in Grenada

A highlight for most visitors to Grenada, but not part of cruise ship passengers’ itineraries or most island tour schedules, the Seven Sisters Falls have been high on our list for a while. A couple of weeks ago, we made an attempt to visit, but didn’t come further than talking some friends into joining us to then postpone the event, because of heavy rains. We had afternoon cake and coffee instead. Yesterday, under a grey sky, Mark and I bit the bullet and decided to “go for it”, no matter how the weather would turn out…

Visiting the Seven Sisters Waterfalls on your own is affordable and fairly easy to do. You take the bus to the bus station in St. George’s (# 1 from Prickly Bay and #2 from Clarkes Court Bay/ Woburn) for EC$ 2.5 and hop on bus #6 to Grand Etang/Grenville (EC$ 5 per person). Ask the driver to drop you off at the Seven Sisters (also called St. Margaret Falls) – which you will reach after a good half hour drive in the mountains - and walk the short distance to the little store in the parking lot. There, you sign in and pay EC$5 entrance fee, if somebody is present. The falls are located on private property and the fee pays to maintain the place. Grab a walking stick if needed, but don’t forget to return it afterwards. Finding a bus back to St. George’s that has empty seats is a bit challenging, but you might get lucky or creative (hitch a ride back or go to Grenville first).

Immediately after we paid, a massive rainstorm ensued, so we were soaking wet, before we even started! It kept us cool all day… We followed a road down to the start of the narrow, but pretty trail. The whole stretch to the falls is downhill, through some muddy areas, over rocks and a river. The wideness of this river depends on the amount of rainwater rushing down. After about 20 minutes hiking through the rain forest and moist, green foliage, the main waterfalls appear and are an attractive sight in a beautiful setting. It is a great spot for lunch, some contemplation while listening to nature’s sounds or a swim. If you are as lucky as we were, you have the whole place to yourself. A dip in one of the pools (there are two waterfalls at this level) is more than refreshing! It is possible to take a side trail and walk further up to the rest of the waterfall chain, but we haven’t done so (yet) and assume you need a guide. Mark and I both enjoyed the hike and the peace and didn’t even mind huffing and puffing, all the way back up (it really isn’t that bad)!

The trail was pretty wet (but "clean") right after the rainfall

Crossing the river before reaching the waterfalls

In front of one of the Seven Sisters

Massive bamboo

 

Avocado tree

Hash 700 in Grenada

A lot of hype has been surrounding the 700^th hash in Grenada. Rosie and I liked number 699 enough to give it another try, expecting it to be very easy, because of the anticipated crowds. We even convinced our other halves – who expected a lot of beer involvement - to join. This special hash attracted a huge amount of people amongst which the country’s prime minister and the biggest group of cruisers ever. A total of 7 buses brought all the sailors to just north of St. George’s where the event started.

After a short introduction, the hundreds of hashers took off, running, walking or strolling. We stayed towards the back this time, trying to avoid all the overtaking from last time. It was extremely busy with queues of hikers barraging the forest, climbing - and sliding - the steep hill and a quieter time heading back down. A conveniently located local rum shop had us stop for a bit. By the time Rosie, Sim, Mark and I arrived at the field for the evening entertainment, dusk set in. We were the last ones to check back in, thanks to the beer and rum inhalations at the bar.

Fate had it that I just sliced my big toe pretty badly the morning of this anticipated event

Participants with new shoes have to "break them in" by drinking beer out of them...

The hash is watched by locals whose property we pass...

... and by cows showing their annoyance of being disturbed

One of the nice views after climbing a massive hill during hash 700

A welcoming break in a rum shop close to the finish

The evening hash events take place on the "sunset" side of Grenada

Rosie enjoys a refreshing and well-deserved beer after the sweaty hike

My First Time (Hash)

Over the last few years there has been a lot of talk about the Hash, the Hash House Harriers and hashing on VHF channel 68 in Grenada. We know a few people who “have done it”, many of them repeatedly. Rosie and I were definitely going to “do one” this season and recently we stuck to that promise. It was our first time, we were virgins, and it was Grenada’s 699^th hash.

A hash is an aggressive walk or run through forests, over hills, through rivers and along private property. This activity has been around for many years and in many countries worldwide. It is very popular in Grenada and a lot of cruisers and locals participate. It can get very muddy and it definitely is a very sweaty activity! On the day Rosie and I “lost our virginity”, we were part of a big group hiking through the bush, crossing rivers, getting startled by mewing cows and appreciating the scenery. We had to follow a paper trail to stay on track and the hike ended with a steep, shady hill, followed by a tremendously steep road.

After a few slippery falls, two hours of sweating, many pictures, lots of beautiful landscape scenes and arriving amongst the last people in, we were rewarded with refreshing ice cream, cheap local food and a certificate of “loss of virginity”. Our friend Susan was waiting for us. Just like all the grandmas, mothers with babies, teenagers and dogs, she had passed us on the trail, pretty early on. Sure, we took our time, took our pictures and didn’t take it as seriously as most other participants, but… we did have fun! (And, “they” are still talking about those two funny, slow, picture-taking and sandal-wearing women of hash 699!)

  
Ready to hash!

The Hash Master gives instructions to the Virgins

Follow the mass...

...or follow the paper trail?

The trail passes private properties

Reminder of the exotic surroundings

Not a virgin anymore!

Dynamics in Southern Grenada

Prickly Bay in Grenada is a little bit our third home, after our real home (which I assume is the boat or Belgium or the States) and the lagoon in St. Martin. We have spent a lot of time here in previous years and it is always nice to be back. Once we get used to the rolly bay (at times) and the longer distances again, we are quite happy. There are less cruisers here than other years, due to the fact that calm Mount Hartman Bay has become more popular. Fortunately there are still some friends around. The two main bars De Big Fish and the Tiki Bar offer great happy hour deals and see us appear frequently

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Grenada Marine Boat Yard: A Painful Experience

Our return to Grenada on December 5^th 2010 wasn’t in the least bit fun or comfortable. Not only were we extremely sad to return without Darwin, but the plane arrived with a delay and Mark and I were the last ones off and, consequently, through immigration. Luckily, our cab driver Mandoo was still around and brought us back to Irie at Grenada Marine boat yard in St. David’s. His friendliness and courtesy are always appreciated and fit the welcoming and kind attitude of most Grenadians. It was past 11pm by then and we had to cross a soggy swamp before we could board our boat with eight pieces of luggage. By the time our cockpit was cleared of dangerous lines, a loose solar panel and a friend’s outboard engine, the next day had started.

Life in a boat yard is never fun, but most of the time we manage and try to get used to the sweat on our faces and bodies, the heaps of mosquitoes, the dirt and grime, the manual labor and the busy schedule. It’s a part of boat ownership. Grenada Marine proved to be more challenging than any of the other handful of boat yards we have stayed before, however. Our friends from SV Imagine had noticed that Irie was surrounded by water and had basically been put in “a swamp with lots of frogs and mosquitoes”. Upon hearing this, we asked the yard manager to move Irie to higher and drier ground, so we could work in relative comfort for a week. Obviously, that request had been denied or never got through…

Instead, our bare feet were exposed to water and chemicals the whole time, we dragged and kicked up mud everywhere we went, the power supply was inefficient and unreliable (no air conditioning for us, let alone decent use of power tools) and the water pressure was VERY sporadic, especially when needed most. After a long day of heavy, dirty and sweaty labor, Mark and I would walk to the showers for a serious clean-up, only to find a trickle of (cold) water emerging from the shower heads and full toilet bowls with no water to flush them. The psychological pain of loosing Darwin was soon augmented by physical pain from having to squat many times a day (the wet ground did not allow us to sit or kneel in hard to reach places) and strained muscles.

Mark and I pushed through, worked around the rainstorms and managed to complete a lot of projects while on the hard. We meticulously prepped Irie’s bottom – scraping hundreds of calcium deposits (we removed the barnacles before we left in September), sanding the two hulls, washing everything down and taping the borders – before we applied a barrier coat in the worst places and painted the area 2.5 times. Mark did the same with our sail drives and we managed to fix some dinghy leaks and install a new cooling system for the fridge. That required a newly drilled hole under the waterline, a scary but successful endeavor.

After a little over a week, we needed to pay our bill. All the employees and workers in the boat yard are very friendly, but we counted on the unprofessionalism of the office staff to miscalculate the bill in our advantage. That would have made up for some of our “suffering”. The bill did come back with an error in every department. In our disadvantage, of course. It took another half an hour to set a few things straight, while Irie was hanging in the travel lift. Then, we chased the remaining frogs away, took a few fat mosquitoes with us and sailed away from St. David’s Harbour with a new looking Irie. Under the waterline anyway…