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| At the dock on Canouan everything from flats of eggs to bottled water, water pipes and furniture was off loaded. For real heavy stuff at forklift was used but most freight was moved by hand. |
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| After a quick stop at Mayreau we sailed passed the Tobago Cays ... 'the crown jewels of the Grenadines' ... a large horseshoe reef which protects five deserted islands and crystal blue waters offering some of the world's best snorkelling and diving. |
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| It was late afternoon when we reached Clifton on Union Island and passed the little Happy Island Bar before pulling into dock. |  |
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| We did not have confirmed
accommodations on Union Island. We had attempted to make
reservations but received only one response and that hotel quoted a higher
price
than their own website's advertised rate. We looked down the main street and saw Erika's Marine Services. On their internet site, they seemed to do everything from hotel, to diving to laundry. We hadn't received any reply to the emails we had sent them ... we would try in person. We got about as much help standing in their doorway as we had through our emails. We moved on. "Ask the lady in the bakery, the little red building near the end of the dock," someone told us, "she knows everything." The bakery lady was most pleasant and pointed us down the road to the Internet Cafe. "Ask for Roseman," she told us. |
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Roseman was sitting behind a counter at the end of an upstairs room
whose walls were lined with computers. We explained that we had
been trying to get accommodations for some time on Union Island but
without luck. "We even emailed the tourist office in October asking if
there was something wrong on Union; and asked if, as the tourist board,
they could get in touch with any hotels or B&Bs and have them
contact us. But," we continued, "even the tourist board on
Union did not answer our emails." Roseman's response surprised us. He called to a lady in an office behind the counter and asked her to come out. "You know that email?" he asked her, "The one that you showed me this morning. The one that came in October. These are the people who sent it." Roseman explained he is the president of Union Island Tourism and apologized that our emails had not been answered in a timely manner. Trying to ease the tension we said, "We are here now, and what we need is accommodations. Can you help us?" "Yes, I can arrange that," he said making us feel much more comfortable. "How early does the boat leave in the morning," we asked. "It doesn't," Roseman responded. "Where are you going?" "Carriacou." "Well, you can stay here an extra day." "We have confirmed reservations on Carriacou. Are there any flights?" "Not tomorrow. You could take a water taxi. It is not that far. I can arrange that for you if you wish." With that Roseman took us across the street to Kings Landing Hotel ... the hotel who upped their price when we asked them to confirm. We had little choice now and paid their amount. The innkeeper was pleasant and the room fine, a little overvalued even with it's harbour view and air-conditioning. We had dinner in the restaurant next to Kings Landing which was recommended by both the innkeeper and Roseman. It was pleasant enough but not memorable. What we would see of Union Island would depend upon how we were going to get off the island and when. The saying goes, "Red skies at night, sailor's delight." We hoped so. |
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Dec 2 We woke to a partially cloudy day and had breakfast in the building behind reception. It wasn't the most pleasant room in which to start a new day. An older man, who may have been one of the hotel's owners, didn't think anything of loudly chastising a fellow in front of guests waiting for breakfast. |
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numbered three and we were the only two (other than the elderly fellow)
in the room. The breakfast was only memorable for its lack of
presentation, taste (wieners and eggs) and poor delivery (number of
staff does not insure quality). We are not fussy people so simply
laughed at the situation and looked forward to what we might discover
within walking distance of Clifton's harbour. Union Island, like its neighbouring islands throughout the Caribbean saw a succession of inhabitants during pre-colonial times. The first European settlers to arrive on Union Island were two French men who settled on the island in the mid 1700s with 350 slaves; it became known for it's fine cotton. Later the island was transferred to England as part of a treaty with France after which it was owned by a few different families until 1910 when the British Crown bought the island and parceled out two and four acre plots to the local population at favourable credit rates. In 1979 St Vincent and the Grenadines became a sovereign independent nation within the British Commonwealth. We walked the main street of town ... it is not very long. |
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| Across from the wharf entrance
and the bakery is Mulzac Square honouring Captain Hugh Mulzac.
Born on Union Island the Captain served on an English ship in WWI and
later became a US shipmaster. However, there was no ship available
to a black captain and he was forced to wait twenty years and the
outbreak of WWII to fulfil his dream. After the war he again faced
discrimination. He died in 1971 at the age of eighty-four.
Mulzac Square also acts as a memorial garden honouring the memory of all slaves who died on Union Island during the time of slavery; especially the fifty-three who died during a period of ten months (Sept 1777- July 1778) as a result of harsh living conditions and cruel slave drivers. It was a period when the island's cotton production was increased 120%. The square splits the traffic. Traffic has never been heavy here. The first car was unloaded in 1956 - a Land Rover. By 1976 there were twelve cars on the island; one in business as a taxi ... tourism had begun. |
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| Instead of retracing our walk back to town, we
turned at the end of the runway having no idea where we would end up.
We came out on the water near the
Bougainvilla Hotel,
Restaurant and Bar. Between the restaurant and the marina they have created a sort-of-moat which acts like a basin for sharks and turtles. |
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| He bent down over the edge of
the dock and aptly cleaned out the fish's innards then swished it around
in the water. "What kind of fish is that?" we asked. He answered but we didn't catch what he said. "Try some, " he offered stretching out his hand holding the fish. We picked off a little bit of the white flesh. "Oh, my, that is good. Very tender. Very sweet. Thank you." "You're welcome," he answered with a winning smile and continued down the dock. Around us there were many reminders of how the sea provides food for the island's people. Conch shells piled up atop the rocky shore. Behind us a breakwater was filled with more bleached-grey conch shells while nearby a man cleaned a turtle. |
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He zipped us across the water to another Clifton dock, picked up his girlfriend and another girl before we left Clifton in our wake. Once we cleared the harbour the wave swells got bigger ... between 2.5-3 metres high. Kojack would take the boat up one side of a wave, run along the top of it and down the other side until islands disappeared completely. It was a hang-on tight, rollercoaster ride. Being so close to the water, having the cool mist air blowing on her face and calculating how she would handle being toss into the water, Sherrie didn't have time to get seasick. We were about half way to Carriacou riding along a wave's ridge when Terry pointed and yelled, " FLYING FISH ! " |
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