Alone Like a Rolling Stone

When the sun sinks into the sea

Gently the wave washes away the footprint we leave in the brilliant white sand, and not the slightest hint remains as if we never walked along here. We walk along the beach of L'Esterre Bay, that Bay that serves all the clich├ęs of the Caribbean. White beach, palm trees, Manchinel trees or the far less dangerous variety Ximenia americana, tower over the strip of sand down to the water.

L'Esterre Bay, Carriacou

The manchinel tree belongs to the spurge family and is very poisonous. Touching it is strongly discouraged and in case of rain, do not stand under it. The trees are usually marked with a red colored ring, on the trunk. They usually grow near the beach and stabilize the sand with their roots, preventing erosion. The apple-like fruit is also poisonous, which evokes in me thoughts of Adam and Eve, when Adam bit into the forbidden apple. And indeed, I see the trunk of a tree that reproduces in detail the female body shapes and seems to call out to me, "take me, along with my horny fruit!". Oh no, it's Gaby who asks when coming closer if I can not even scratch her back. "Damn sun!" 

Sandy Island, Carriacou

Our friends Dominique and Didier have invited us today to spend a day with them on their boat, which is moored off Sandy Island. We reach the Ka Ora's dinghy and cross over. The northeast wind creates an impressive wave in the bay and by the time we reach the boat we are soaking wet. The wind and the sun dry us quickly and after a snack on board, we head to Sandy Island for snorkeling. Sandy Island is a small uninhabited island with a first class sandy beach, an outer reef and an inner reef. Coconut palms grow on the striped land mass providing shade. The inner reef is unfortunately very damaged and there are only a few intact coral reefs left. All the more amazing is the richness of fish on the reef. Surgeonfish, arrowfish, triggerfish and damselfish can be found as well as parrotfish and angelfish. A colorful world that presents itself two meters below me. We spend the day on Sandy Island and get picked up by the boat cab of the Paradise Beach Club in the evening. 

Paradise Beach Club, Carriacou

With a Pina Colada, I prefer to drink rum, we enjoy the moment when the sun sinks into the sea. It is time to say goodbye again. Dominique and Didier leave for Martinique tomorrow morning. But we are sure that we will see them again. Despite, always saying goodbye or maybe because of that, our circle of friends is getting bigger. With Astrid and Michael we have gained two new friends. The two "LifeStyler" help us where they can, to get along with the impassability on the island. They know the island like the back of their hand and have established a large network in the long time they have been here. This saves, among other things, the wallet, because we are now shopping, perhaps not quite the price of the locals pay, but much closer to it than that was the case weeks ago. Thus we acquire on the fish market in Hillsborough a piece of swordfish for converted three euro the pound. While Gaby goes noodle swimming, I climb with Astrid on every hill that the island has to offer. Climbing is perhaps, slightly exaggerated and I have deliberately avoided the term mountain, but the approximately 250 meters in altitude are quite steep towards the top and arrived at the top whistles the oxygen in my lungs or the lungs whistles because of the oxygen, who knows for sure. 

Redfood Turtle

For it one has a beautiful all-round view. Beside the red-footed tortoises one sees a lot of goats and sheep roaming through the woods and meadows. The little lambs, from brown to black and white spotted, look curiously behind a rock or a tree trunk, before they follow the mother animal in flight. Astrid has named the one hill, Goat Shit Hill, because the top has risen at least two meters over the years and you walk mostly on the excrement of the goats. Even I, who still hasn't fully recovered my sense of smell, can smell that manure. 

Goat Shit Hill, Carriacou

Which inevitably brings me back to my favorite topic, the post office. Folks, honestly what kind of schooling does it take to transport a letter or package from A to B? The post office doesn't even manage to track a tracking number and retrieve a package in today's computer age. But smartphone owners can rejoice, there is now an app, there you can see in the morning which letter will be delivered to you today by the post office. If it is delivered then. We are still waiting for our spare parts, of which nobody knows where they are. "Shit happens", but the moment when the sun sinks into the sea, from this goat shit hill, is phenomenal. In this sense, fair winds and keep a stiff upper lip.

Comments