I am reading a great book, “The Joy of Being Organized,” but I really don’t understand it.
One picture is worth a thousand words. We are two months into a complete renovation of our boat. I’ll spare you the huge list of items we are fixing, adding or tweaking. FreeBirds is eight years old and built for racing. Now she is our home. Lots of changes and we have 3 to 7 workers on the boat at any one time, seven days a week, FOR THREE MONTHS.
Christmas came early as our custom dingy arrived from Miami. We ordered 63 other items, had the dingy company shrink wrap them inside the dingy (and an extra pallet) and ship them here. So, we received kayaks, a computer, camera, and a litterely a ton of stuff. I’m glad I had a second wife, Antoinette, at the Dingy company to help us out. When I sent all the items to LifeLine Inflatables, they went addressed attention Antoinette. And so that she knew it was our stuff, it went attention, Antoinette-Tedeschi. So the joke at her company quickly became that she was my wife. Petra is still trying to understand. I told her that we are governed by international law now, and that I can have two wifes. But when she said that’s fine as long as Antoinette does the cooking and cleaning, I decided to stick with the wife I have on the boat. We are, however, very thankful for all the extra work that Antoinette and her company did to help us. One thing that you realize when you live on a boat in the middle of the ocean is that you need the help of others from time to time. Thank you, Antoinette.
Our days are spent riding our scooter all over the island to get the parts needed by the people repairing our boat. Nuts (yes we are), bolts, toilets, fibre glass, pipes, wood (very difficult to carry on a scooter, and we look like Sir Lancelot with a spear sticking 8 feet out in front of the scooter) sanding paper, drill bits, tools; you get the idea. I am now perfectly trained as a scooter driver if we need to pick up some extra income. One group of workers leaves at 4p.m. when Franky, our Fibre-Glasser Extrordenaire arrives and puts a fine white powder all over the boat. We have to make sure there are no boats down wind where the thick-white cloud travels. We have become very popular with the other boats at the marina.
We had our first out of town visitor, Jerry. Our friend, Joe in Sacramento, had a friend coming to Grenada to board a cruise ship and he stopped by to inspect our construction zone. We love having guests. Part of the joy we get out of cruising is sharing this lifestyle with others.
We had our first out of town visitor, Jerry. Our friend, Joe in Sacramento, had a friend coming to Grenada to board a cruise ship and he stopped by to inspect our construction zone. We love having guests. Part of the joy we get out of cruising is sharing this lifestyle with others.
We LOVE Grenada, especially the people. I lived in Costa Rica for four years. It was like living in Iraq. Armed guards with shotguns at every business, gates and bars covering every house entrance and window, armed robberies daily of everybody we knew, and a macho attitude that didn’t give a damn about anybody else. Anything not bolted down was stolen. Before we left we read in the paper about two girls from Canada that were traveling through Central America. They were on the their way to the airport in San Jose, Costa Rica when the van driver of the vehicle they were riding in was in an accident. Both girls were knocked unconscious for about 5 minutes. Rather than help, the people that gathered stole their purses, luggage, and the rings off their fingers. It’s literally a country of thieves and robbers.
Grenada is the exact opposite. The people here are the friendliest I’ve met on the planet. We don’t even shut our doors, let alone lock them. And we don’t worry about our stuff laying around everywhere while workers come and go. Strangers look you in the eye, smile and say something pleasant. Even as we ride by on the scooter people smile and wave. But kindness is very dangerous. I had gotten used to driving in Costa Rica where it was every person for himself. Trucks would try to run you off the road for sport, and the concept of letting other drivers merge onto a road doesn’t exist. But in Grenada I’ve almost rear ended 10 cars. Every single car stops to let people walk across the road, or let cars enter from side streets, or let others pass in front of them. A car in front of us will just stop for no reason, and just when I lay on the horn, I realize there is another car that has been courtiously let enter the road. It’s unnerving. Don’t these people realize they are supposed to be in a hurry. And what’s all this being nice crap!
It’s amazing, though, how this attitude is contageous (just as is having a nasty attitude is catching.) I’ve actually slowed down my driving and relaxed to enjoy the experience. Really! Quit laughing A.G., Ryan and Joe. I actually watch out for butterflies now. Do you know butterflies are very good at dodging vehicles going under 50 miles and hour. It was a revelation to me. Okay, maybe I’ve been injesting too much of Frankies white powder.
And the people in Grenada are the most attractive people I’ve seen. I’ve lived in Thailand and Costa Rica where the girls are supposed to be the most beautiful. But nobody mentions the men. Grenada has the most handsome men anywhere, period. They all look like Sidney Poittier or Weslely Snipes. And they have the bodies of NFL linebackers. Six foot three, 225 pounds of solid, not steriod induced, bodies. If you like your men on the chocalate side, this is Meca, (Elana). The woman are equally eloquent, and tall. They walk slowly and exotically down the street as if they are carrying invisible books on their heads. But it seems that after reaching 23, they stop growing up and start growing out, probably from the relaxed lifestyle and warm family life.
Grenada is the exact opposite. The people here are the friendliest I’ve met on the planet. We don’t even shut our doors, let alone lock them. And we don’t worry about our stuff laying around everywhere while workers come and go. Strangers look you in the eye, smile and say something pleasant. Even as we ride by on the scooter people smile and wave. But kindness is very dangerous. I had gotten used to driving in Costa Rica where it was every person for himself. Trucks would try to run you off the road for sport, and the concept of letting other drivers merge onto a road doesn’t exist. But in Grenada I’ve almost rear ended 10 cars. Every single car stops to let people walk across the road, or let cars enter from side streets, or let others pass in front of them. A car in front of us will just stop for no reason, and just when I lay on the horn, I realize there is another car that has been courtiously let enter the road. It’s unnerving. Don’t these people realize they are supposed to be in a hurry. And what’s all this being nice crap!
It’s amazing, though, how this attitude is contageous (just as is having a nasty attitude is catching.) I’ve actually slowed down my driving and relaxed to enjoy the experience. Really! Quit laughing A.G., Ryan and Joe. I actually watch out for butterflies now. Do you know butterflies are very good at dodging vehicles going under 50 miles and hour. It was a revelation to me. Okay, maybe I’ve been injesting too much of Frankies white powder.
And the people in Grenada are the most attractive people I’ve seen. I’ve lived in Thailand and Costa Rica where the girls are supposed to be the most beautiful. But nobody mentions the men. Grenada has the most handsome men anywhere, period. They all look like Sidney Poittier or Weslely Snipes. And they have the bodies of NFL linebackers. Six foot three, 225 pounds of solid, not steriod induced, bodies. If you like your men on the chocalate side, this is Meca, (Elana). The woman are equally eloquent, and tall. They walk slowly and exotically down the street as if they are carrying invisible books on their heads. But it seems that after reaching 23, they stop growing up and start growing out, probably from the relaxed lifestyle and warm family life.
I can’t help but think of the slave traders that brought people here from Africa hundreds of years ago. They picked the most well built, smartest and handsome people to trade. On Grenada the best and brightest bred and created a country of beautiful, smart and muscular Grenadians who figured out how to be happy with what they have. I wish they could teach the rest of us. Then maybe instead of starting wars with people that are different from “us” (whoever “us” is), we could be happy with ourselves and what we have and co-exist peacefully with others.
Grenadians love living in houses on stilts sprinkled through out the hills. They are inexpensive, (about $1,500-$2,000) small, but not too close to the next house. Everybody has their own space, unlike Costa Rica where most to the houses were connected to the next house. Just about everyone lives with a million dollar view of the ocean.
Grenadians love living in houses on stilts sprinkled through out the hills. They are inexpensive, (about $1,500-$2,000) small, but not too close to the next house. Everybody has their own space, unlike Costa Rica where most to the houses were connected to the next house. Just about everyone lives with a million dollar view of the ocean.
Petra turned “25”, Again! One of our friends, Roxanne aboard RAVEN gave her a crown at dinner on the beach. I got her a guitar, which she now plays on the boat after a ten year lay off. I’ll be reading while she plays and sings Czech folk songs. So coooooooollllll.
Our favorite restaurant here is Le Phare Bleu. It’s about two miles away and we dingy over to it. It’s inside a ship that used to be a lighthouse. Apparently, the Swedish built 33 of these boats about 100 years ago. They sailed them to where ever a light house was needed and anchored there. This one was converted to a private residence (with parking for two cars) before being turned into a restaurant by the current owners.
Veronica, the chef’s girlfriend, and now a friend of ours, is the hostess and employee manager. Alexander is her chef partner, and they live on their boat moored behind the restaurant. It’s finding gems like this, hidden and remarkable, that makes cruising remarkable.
Veronica, the chef’s girlfriend, and now a friend of ours, is the hostess and employee manager. Alexander is her chef partner, and they live on their boat moored behind the restaurant. It’s finding gems like this, hidden and remarkable, that makes cruising remarkable.
Bon appetite -La Phare Blue Web click here.
So, month two has sailed into the setting sun. But we’re still at the dock. Cruisers don’t like to be at the dock. They much prefer to be at anchor, separated from the confines of land, marinas and other boats. One hundred yards from another boat at anchor, okay. Next to another boat, never. The only reason to go to a marina is to do laundry, service your boat, or leave it unattended while traveling home to visit relatives. But even moored, with people on our boat doing construction projects all day and evening, seven days a week, we love it. We’re on the boat, even if we aren’t sailing, yet.
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