The hype about Carnival was already building when we got to Grenada in July. There were ads, Jump-Ups (street parties) and news about the upcoming events. From the boat, we could hear music and parties along the shore, playing well into most nights. It was clear that something was happening. We weren't sure if we wanted to partake in the Carnival festivities. We heard some reports, that streets could get rowdy and there was disagreement about whether it would be suitable to take kids to some events. Some of the stadium shows were a little pricey and the kids weren't sure about attending the parade. They enjoyed the Carnival in St. Maarten back in April, but they found the music deafening. After doing a bit of research, we decided to attend a Carnival event called J'Ouvert held on August 14th. J'Ouvert literally means, "daybreak", or the opening of the day. This event revs up at 4:00 am and marks that beginning of the two days of Carnival. This is where the "Jab Jab" or devil-like creatures emerge from the night and parade through the streets. The official Carnival website, www.spicemasgrenada.com/jouvert sets the scene for this event:
"Blackened with stale molasses, tar, grease, creosote or mud, and wearing little more than their horned helmets, these masqueraders in previous times set out to terrify onlookers with their grotesque appearance and repulsive dances.
In modern times, the traditional Jab-Molassi have mutated into other creatures of colour, with Blue, Yellow and Green Devils joining in the early morning parade. These colourful devils are much more playful in character, wanting only to dab a bit of their body paint onto unsuspecting bystanders, as they dance through the streets to the rhythms of the accompanying drums, steel bands and calypsos from huge DJ trucks."
Despite our concerns that this event might freak the kids out, we decided to join the festivities around 5:00 am. Our plan was to take the dinghy to the Grenada Yacht Club and stand behind the gates to watch if it looked too ominous for our crew.
We donned old clothes and covered our heads to keep our hair clean. The kids decked themselves out in glow sticks and John and I took a couple shots of Jab Jab rum to ease the pain of getting up at 4:30 am. We jumped into the dinghy as the soca beats drifted towards us.
Not quite awake
A little rum at 4:30 am? Sure!
On our way into St. George's
We walked through the Yacht Club and stepped over the remnants of a party that looked like it had broken up minutes before. We went beyond the security guards and were hit with the heady smells of chocolate, motor oil, rum and sweat. Odd looking people coated in black oil walked by with horned helmets. We looked out of place, like we'd been plopped into a dark nightclub oblivious to the dress code.
Onto the street. Looking very clean and scared.
"Mom, what are we doing here?"
First glimpse of Jab Jab covered in motor oil
Jab Jabs
Oil hugs
Crowd is getting bigger at dawn
I wasn't so sure I wanted my family to get coated in motor oil, but we couldn't walk around in our pristine outfits. We returned to the Yacht Club where they had an alternative--vats of chocolate to use instead. It was hard for the kids to dip in and cover themselves with chocolate. (I am sure they had my voice in their heads not to get food on their clothes.) However, it didn't take long until we looked a little less alien.
Return to Yacht Club to get chocolated
Ready to hit the street
Chocolate is good, but paint is better!
Stopping at dawn for a drink of coconut water
Jab Jab heating up
The streets kept getting fuller and the bands could be heard making their way towards us. We decided to make our way above the street to get a better view. We found a great place to watch and hang out with some colour-loving friends.
Simon getting his gold on
Now we are feelin' it
In the crowd, our friends from Maple found us and joined us above the street. Ella and Iris arrived looking much like our kids had two hours earlier, but it didn't take them much time to get into the carnival spirit with their parents, Janet and Darryl. When the kids could see someone on the street with a can of paint, they would scurry down to the road, make quick friends, score some paint, and come back to share.
Pre-paint Ella and Iris
Iris getting paint
Kids warming up to this whole idea
Are these the same kids?
Adding the silver touches
Darryl and Janet from Maple
Adding a few shades of chocolate
Steel drum band
J'Ouvert is a celebration of freedom. Since emancipation from slavery in 1834, J'Ouvert has been a way for people to push societal limits, get attention, and have a ton of fun. Despite the heavy drinking everywhere, the crowd was orderly, friendly and welcoming. The slick "devils" dragging chains, with spiky horns were scary-looking but not threatening. They were likely the same polite, well-dressed Grenadians we meet in stores, banks and restaurants the rest of the year.
The fire breathing Jab Jab was mesmerizing. I was impressed when he chugged motor oil to blow his flame. (That much motor oil can't be good for you.)
Silver paint!
This guy came running up the hill pretending to give Simon a hug. All in good fun.
Green paint transformed kids into surgeons
Family carnival shot
We started to feel a little tired mid-morning with the sun blazing down on us. We grabbed some street food and yawned our way back to the boat.
BBQ chicken for breakfast
Simon driving us home
Time for nap!
Before boarding Nahanni V, we jumped overboard and washed our clothes and bodies. The chocolate mostly washed out, but the colour stayed fast leaving us with vibrant memories of our first J'Ouvert.
A few weeks back on August 17th, we celebrated one year of cruising. This is the date, one year ago, when we left Niagara-On-The-Lake, Ontario and started our journey east and then south. It's funny to think that the oppressive heat wave we departed in, is now normal temperatures for us in Grenada. Every anniversary bears some reflection. As I look back at the past year, our family has experienced significant change in every way we live. For our family of four, we live off the power of five solar panels, consume a total of about 25 litres of water a day, and eat more beans and rice than ever before. We hold school in a variety of classroom configurations, and phys-ed and art can mean swimming to the beach and building a sand city. Going to work for me can mean figuring out the buses to find a good markets for shopping, preparing school lessons and marking schoolwork. For John, perhaps less change has occurred for him overall; house or boat, he continues to renovate and repair as he's done for decades! Upon reflecting on our past year on Nahanni V, I felt a need to take stock of what I've learned since leaving home: I like being warm
After leaving Halifax in December with 4 C temperatures and sailing in the cold North Atlantic, I have no desire to be cold again. I prefer sweating to freezing, especially if I can jump over the side several times a day to cool off. Multiple layers under foul weather gear holds no appeal for me anymore. I no longer like wearing shoes. I love wearing by bathing suit all day. I can't fathom wearing something made of fleece. (Of course, as I write these words, part of me screams, "But you love Canadian winters!" For now, I am packing that part of me up in the locker with my boots, toques and gloves.)
Homeschooling is not for wimps
I love that I see my kids everyday and that I get to be the imparter of knowledge to them. Every hour has a teachable moment, that is, if I have the energy or creativity to use the moment, and if my kids stop arguing for the moment to actually hear me. I love witnessing those aha moments when they occur, that is, if I am not trying to figure out how to teach leaf and stem plots or get the dishes done. Balance is what it is all about and as long as everyone is learning, school rocks. (Unless of course, it is in the literal sense, and then we stop school or else we get seasick.)
Good friends are in every port
The sailing community is vast and we never know who we will meet. One afternoon on the beach can leave you feeling tingly that you have found a new friend who gets this sailing lifestyle and all that goes with it. I learn something from everyone I meet and am blessed by new friends, even if they are sailing away the next day.
Wherever you go, you are there
I learned this lesson when I travelled in my 20's, but the lesson bears repeating. I used to think that just because I was in an exotic location, free from the stresses of home, I would always be happy. We have good days and bad days wherever we are. I can be grumpy in my Grimsby kitchen or lying on a Caribbean beach. (OK, that might be a stretch, but you get the point.) I recognize that I need to be mindful of what is happening around me and be grateful for all my points of sail.
My kids are amazing
OK, every parent thinks their kids are awesome, but mine really are. They are adaptable, flexible, funny and creative. They are great little sailors with an eagerness to explore and navigate their way out here. Oh yes, they drive me wild at times, but I admire both of them immensely: Simon for his ingenuity, his overflowing enthusiasm and his barely containable energy. Wavey for her intuitiveness, her quick wit and her curiosity about everything and everyone around her. Both kids complement each other and are great friends. It is fulfilling (and also a little scary) to see them venture off more independently now and put into practice things they have learned from us and the world. I can't believe we lucked out and have the privilege of parenting these two extraordinary children. My partner in life and sailing is well...
I can't think of a single word to describe John. For over 17 years, we have refit boats and houses together, crossed oceans, worked and lived in close quarters, and planned this family sailing adventure. John is visionary, passionate, and quietly daring. He is also the most patient person I know (he lives with me after all.) He is resourceful and smart and I would not be on a boat anywhere without him. Blogging is harder than I thought it would be I love the idea of writing blogs as things happen; to share our experiences as they unfold. I have learned that for a blog to occur, I need discipline, time, and a good internet connection. Sadly, these three things align less often lately, despite my good intentions. I have a lot more to learn
Despite our one year of family cruising (plus four years pre-kids), I still feel like a newbie. I do not feel that I have got this yet, and somehow, that's OK. Everyday on a sailboat is an adventure. We change and grow in ways we can't predict. Gratitude comes in waves
We have a great deal to be grateful for. Full moons, sunsets, and pristine beaches. Dinghy engines that start, full propane tanks, and breezes through the cabin. After seeing the devastation caused by Hurricane Irma in so many places we hold dear, we are thankful to be safe and afloat.
We arrived in Prickly Bay, Grenada in the dark on Sunday, July 16th. Luckily, our friends on Drakkar had their AIS on, so we could find them in the heaps of boats bobbing at anchor. In the morning, we found ourselves in a delightful bay with lots of familiar boats around. We also noticed that our butt was sticking out into the channel and our water tanks were empty.
We weighed anchor, and headed to the fuel dock to fill up and do a little scrubbing. Feeling a little more refreshed, we went to find a place to anchor for the next several weeks.
Filling our water tanks at Prickly Bay Marina
Perhaps it was fatigue or weariness, but we could not decide where to drop our hook. It was like Goldilocks was at the helm: some places were too deep, some too rocky, some too crowded. We finally found a place that was just right, close to the beach with sprawling villas looking down on us from the cliff above. To our frustration, the holding was poor and we dragged twice while setting the anchor. The third time set us firmly in the sand, but we ended up too close to another boat. We had no choice, but had to stay put for awhile, as the windlass (and the crew) got too hot to anchor again. After everything (and everyone) cooled down, we snagged a perfect spot. We settled in to enjoy the rest of the afternoon on the palm-lined beach, with several crews from various kid boats. We breathed a collective sigh of relief that we could stay put for awhile and get a lay of the land.
Prickly Bay with view of beach
This great feeling lasted for about, uh...four hours. While were were checking out the weather, we noticed that Tropical Storm Don was moving quickly with Grenada in his sights. The National Hurricane Center predicted winds up to 60 knots the following night. Yikes.
Once the kids were dreaming of calm, idyllic beaches, we pored over the internet to search for the best hurricane holes in the south of Grenada. We decided we did not want to haul out due to the cost, inconvenience, and no guarantee that damage won't occur on the hard. As we had never ridden out a Tropical Storm in these parts, our search led us to our Chris Doyle guide and YouTube (of course). A video by Paul and Cheryl Shard proved to be just what we needed to learn about tying to the mangroves. See Tropical Storm Tactics - Tying Sailboat in Mangrove for a Hurricane.
On July 18th, we got up earlier than usual. The anchorage was already thinning out, with many boats seeking more secure shelter. As we filled the kids in on our plan for TS Don, they looked a little worried, especially since we were up and ready to move so early. The storm was not due until midnight, but we wanted to find a place in good time.
We followed two other like-minded boats at 0830 and motored 5 miles east to Port Egmont. Thirty minutes later we motored into a protected lagoon, with mangroves and homes surrounding the peaceful anchorage. My heart jumped when I looked on AIS, and saw that a boat called Ganesh was taking shelter here as well. If this place was good enough for the famous Cap'n Fatty and Carolyn Goodlander, then it was good enough for us! There were several boats in various stages of securing to the mangroves, and a few boats with a couple of anchors out. Crews were taking foresails down and lashing everything on deck.
Port Egmont
Ganesh at anchor
We found a chunk of mangrove to nose into and proceeded to secure ourselves. I will say that we were not the Shards as we ran around deck willy-nilly, gathering ground tackle and lines while our boat came alongside to the mangroves and ran aground. Within minutes, a man and a boy in a dinghy approached from the catamaran Aphrodite, and offered assistance. Fellow Canadians Rick and his nine year old son Paul, willingly crawled into the mangroves and started tying our lines to the roots. Simon was eager to crawl into the branches with them. Then, Rick and Paul helped us set two stern anchors and kedge ourselves off the shore until we were perpendicular to the mangroves. We spent the next couple of hours tying everything down. Our aft cabin became the dumping ground for dinghy parts, cockpit cushions and wet laundry.
Nosing into the mangroves
Simon and Wavey tying lines into the mangroves
Tying up
Setting the stern anchor
Simon working hard
Almost ready for the storm
Voila!
Once we wiped our sweaty brows, we visited Aphrodite, the home of Rick and Lorraine and their four kids. See Aphrodite's awesome blog. Simon and Wavey soon found themselves swimming and swinging off their rope swing with Betty age 12, Paul age 9, and 6 year old twins Henry and Karen.
Henry and Wavey
Water play on Aphrodite...what else would they play with?
The kids rowed over to Ganesh to see if the rumours were true about Cap'n Fatty having a big sword and a tendency to give out candy. It's all true! He came out on deck wielding his sword, spinning a fantastic tale, and showering the kids with treats. (For more about candy boats, see the link to his article "Chocoholic Harbor Angel" in All at Sea.)
Cap'n Fatty and Carolyn
Later that afternoon, we joined a pre-storm party on Aphrodite, with Joanne and Bill from Baidarka, a family from Sago, and Fatty and Carolyn from Ganesh. While the kids were jumping, swinging, and swimming, we listened to Fatty and Carolyn's seafaring adventures from three circumnavigations (see web site for more about them.) When we thought the day couldn't get any better, Lorraine and Rick made homemade ice cream with fresh mangoes and an enormous bowl of popcorn. It was hard to believe that Don was on his way.
Party food
Afternoon on with Cap'n Fatty and Carolyn on Aphrodite
We returned to Nahanni V at dusk to find that one disadvantage of visiting the mangrove ecosystem was entering the habitat of mosquitoes and noseeums. As we hustled to get our screens up, I cooked up the last of Simon's mahi mahi for dinner.
Mahi mahi with pesto pasta (now completely out of fresh fruits and vegetables )
The kids were eager to stay up and do what lots of people do in a storm: watch a movie. While we scratched bug bites and watched Harry and the Hendersons, the rain started and the wind picked up. Nahanni V didn't budge as the wind gusted up to 25 knots...and then...died. It was not even enough wind to blow the mosquitoes away. At midnight, we realized that Don was not going to pack the punch predicted, and we all fell sleepily into our bunks with buzzing mosquitoes dancing around our heads. (Made me feel nostalgic for Ontario camping in June.)
The next morning, I awoke to the sounds of lines being untied and the dinghy being launched from the fore deck. John and Simon were up early and were pulling us out of the mangroves and back to anchor. We decided to stay another day in Port Egmont to play with our new friends, and enjoy the perfect weather. Our kids spent most of the day sailing around the anchorage and swimming off of Aphrodite.
Simon sailing with Paul, Karen and Henry
Paul in the stern had a perma smile the whole time he was sailing!
Port Egmont
After a relaxing night at anchor, we left Port Egmont after walking to get a few provisions at a local shop.
Coming back with fresh food
Simon rowing back to Nahanni V
While motoring back to Prickly Bay, we thanked our lucky stars for tropical storms that fizzle out, for successful mangrove maneuvers, and for meeting some pretty cool people.
