Post Cards From the Pound

Never lose your sense of humor traveling. Often we travel with our dog, Marley, and more or less I often travel with my husband. Both belong in the Pound. Given my love of writing and travel you can venture with me, Joel and I or the three of us where ever it is we go. If it is pet oriented I'll give you the scoop on your pet's privileges. I love the Caribbean-old style of course-- and places where the footprints are few. So saddle up and let's go.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Grenada

Our last stop on this trip is actually three venues on the island of Grenada: St. George's, Hog Island and Clark's Court Bay.

Right: A fresh picked nutmeg, with red mace net, interior nut and husk

Having worked our way down the western shore of Grenada, we did not find a suitable anchorage for us until we were on the outskirts of historic St. George's with its' huge fort above the harbor. We anchored here two nights, motoring into the yacht club and marina for gas and provisions.

We all had a need for a hamburger it seemed. And French fries.

We found Andy and Susan on their boat, Maggie May; a beautiful made to order Norwegian yacht that hailed from Indianapolis, Indiana. We joined up and went over to the marina's beautiful open air restaurant and bar, having cold drinks and cheeseburgers in paradise…though Joel suddenly changed to a fish sandwich.

Having diligently trying to stick to healthy, less sinful and dissipated ways, I decided to go for it and have a bacon cheeseburger with a split of fries. Delicious. But 24 hours later I was just getting my legs back under me having paid the price of major indigestion from too much fat too soon. As everyone enjoyed their lunch the next day, I eked down a bowl of Callaloo Soup and hoped it made things right with my gall bladder.

Above: We arrive in Grendada

We then struck out for Hog Island on the south eastern shore of Grenada.

Hog Island is a major location in Ann Vanderhoof's book An Embarrassment of Mangoes. This book is required reading by Sandi when on board, especially since it is set in Grenada primarily and is the story of two Canadians who decide to take 2 years and sail from Toronto to the Caribbean and back in their 42 foot sailing yacht Receta. An excellent choice of reading, Ann's book brings you into her and her husband's life and journey which forever changed their lives. Along the way you learn some interesting recipes as well.

Be sure to check out Ann's new book, Spice Necklace, which just came out. I have read the book, and I have to say it is wonderful. If you love the Caribbean, and enjoy living vicariously, then read Ann's new book. Check out the website here.

As we put on a genuine tragic comedy of anchoring in mud, we see the sailboat next to our chosen anchorage enjoying the cocktail/pre-dinner show. Sure our anchor is set, I start watching the stern to make sure we are not slipping towards the rocky shore nearby.

The marine band radio comes on advising that Rosetta is calling to advise Hanco we are slipping and I am gauging that our stern is inching closer to the shore as well.

Back into action we raise the anchor and put on an even more Laurel and Hardy or Martin and Lewis…better yet Three Stooges (Joel was in the anchor chain room so he doesn't count) show of anchoring in mud amongst the sailboats yet again. Next to us, a young Grenadian fisherman is visiting the sailboat and yells "drop it, drop it now". John drops the anchor but it doesn't satisfy him, so he puts a red buoy on with a rope which I then screw up throwing out because I wanted to come home with all my fingers.

We try again and while doing that the Gameboy boat control stops working and Sandi has no boat control, under power and the yacht next to us is beyond close, we can see if it has chips in its paint. We then have a fire drill of sorts, aka cluster frolic, in front of everyone while control is restored at the helm due to a switch issue. Whew.

Right: Recetta, our neighbors, Hog Island behind

The anchor is dropped, John dives into murky water here, and assures himself the anchor is set and now he can sleep that night.

While we are doing this Sandi yells "hello" to Steve and Ann on the next boat which is NOT Rosetta, but Receta and the neighbors are Ann Vanderhoof and her husband Steve Manley with Dwight, the fisherman from her books. So, not only are the neighbors watching, the neighbors are writers and friends of Sandi and John and local celebrities. Oh well. And yes, they had a grand time watching our display of comedic yachting, but all the while knowing they have put on similar displays.

Another evening of cocktails and filet mignon on the fantail; another night of blissful sleep; someone has to do this.

Left: The marina at Clark's Court Bay

Today we move to the marina of Clark's Court Marina to tie up in preparation for our return home, some touring as in a rum distillery up the road and the spice market.

Clark's Court Bay and the marina located there are below the parallel that insurance companies deem acceptable for boats to hang out in and still be covered by insurance if a hurricane strikes. The last one, Ivan, was a cat 5 that laid waste to Grenada, damaging about 90% of the island's homes and decimating the nutmeg and banana crops. You don't say "Hurricane Ivan" here, you just say "Ivan". The previous hurricane to come this low was Janet in 1955. Given the aftermath of Ivan, the name was retired out of respect to the dead and the history it left in its wake.

Right: Dry land allows for a much needed haircut for John and Sandi can do the job

Above Clark's Court Bay is the Clark's Court Bay Distillery which, of course, we had to visit and tour. And taste too. The factory doesn't do cane anymore, they obtain juice and make the rum and molasses. They buy cane juice (much like wineries buy grape juice) all over the Caribbean. The sugar cane crop was also destroyed when Ivan came through.

Sandi and I took a tour through the spice and town market. We went through the vendors in the covered part of the market where dozens of spice dealers hawk their goods. Many of the same spices and sauces are sold in the different stands and I kept wondering what the difference would be other than price or approach. There really is none. The only difference would be in the design maybe of a spice necklace. But, one bag of spices was the same regardless of the stand or even if it was in the downtown area or the outlying areas.

Left and right: Shopping in St. George's street market

Staying in a marina is way different than being out on your own in the middle of say, Tobago Cays or the Virgin Islands at anchor. You have neighbors and you can't just jump into the water because it is not all that desirable to be honest. You do have lots of water, lots of power and a bar a stone's throw away. You can get your land legs back quick too.

Wednesday night was Burger night so Sandi decided to have a little pre-burger cocktail soiree on board HANCO to warm up for the burgers. What started as about 10 people grew to about 50 or so potential guests. That's a lot of folks on a boat, even a 62 foot Hatteras with a good sized fantail. We were ice scavengers, makers, hors de oeuvres queens and house cleaners. The party was marvelous and a good time was had by all. By the end of burgers, and dancing, as well as more drinking of adult beverages, a good time was really had by all.

Ann and Steve came over for the party and I asked for her autograph for my copy of Mangos, but, since I don't read paper books, but use a Kindle, I found a Sharpie and she did her first signing of a Kindle on the back side. Pretty cool. So is she and so is Steve. What a pair.

Left: Joel at the fort above St. George

One problem with the rum factory being so close to the marina is not the temptation; it is the smell of the molasses residue being put into the river, which then flows down to the cove. It eventually drove John to move the boat back to the marina at St. George.

We all took another day tour which was supposed to be done by 1 pm or so, but stretched longer. I think we were kidnapped by monkeys. Really.

Our guide took us all over Grenada. We learned more about nutmeg than we ever thoughts possible. We went to the top of the island and though we failed to bring bananas, the monkey's made an appearance when another tour guide brought little sweet bananas. They flew out of the trees, like, well, monkeys. We toured the large fort that stands over the island. I can't imagine building this thing, let alone being assigned here in centuries past. It would have a been a serious hike but what a fantastic view.

Sandi and I toured a nutmeg processing plant while the guys waited in the van's A/C and watched the world go by. A trip through a plant like this truly makes you appreciate your college education. The ladies pictured here make $8 for shelling out a large bag of nutmeg seeds. If you are fast, you might make $40 a day. So don't gripe about the price of nutmeg or mace. Ever.

Below: Ladies shell and clean up nutmeg and sing to occupy themselves

Grenada was truly devastated by Ivan. The nutmeg crop will take years to recover as will the clove and limes. It is green and getting lush, but after the 'cane it was stripped bare. It is a testament to their resiliency how well they recovered.

All too soon it was time to pack up and leave the boat, John and Sandi and Grenada. We had a truly marvelous time and are forever thankful that we have such good, warm and comfortable friends as them. We have more new friends from all over the world and have become dry land boaters without a boat or OPB's (other people's boats). HANCO will spend the 'cane season in Grenada getting some repairs, refurbishment and sprucing up. We can't wait for our next adventure.

Right: A street vendor sells fresh roasted corn on the cob

I highly recommend a visit to Grenada. It is bu s y, high end and yet, laid back and comfortable.

Next, I'll take you with Marley and me (sounds like a book potential, maybe a movie) to Ashland, Oregon for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival and hanging out for the Fourth of July, including Ashland's hometown, hard to beat parade. Stay tuned, it will be a matter of days….







Carriacou and the Grenadian Grenadines

Hanco is anchored about 120 yards off the beach of Sparrow Bay, Carriacou (Karry-a-coo) in the Grenadian Grenadine Islands. This large island isn't really on the beaten path of tourism. Sail boats and motor yachts come through, but people flying in to stay here a week hasn't yet caught on.

Left: The harbor at Hillsborough

We plan to take a tour today with Dunstan Bristol, a tour guide recently retired from Customs.

But, before that, I'll let you know about our passage and our first day here.

The weather started to change at Tobago Cays and we decided it was a better idea to leave sooner, than later. We cleared out of the St. Vincent and the Grenadines with John as skipper catching a ride to the dock at Clifton and clearing out the boat and his crew. We then set our course for Carriacou, with where to anchor up in the air. Sparrow Bay looked calm, especially after the seas we endured coming through the 8 miles or so of open water. Winds were 30 knots and the seas weren't as big as we feared…probably 6 foot swells at the worst part. We only got bugged-eyed once and John did something to fix that.

Sparrow was flat and no occupied boats were here. The Round House restaurant is on the beach. A gentleman swam out, helped us anchor, drank a Coke hanging from the anchor line, then swam back (no fins by the way) as if he were walking through a park. We boarded the tender and headed out for Hillsborough, the main city and dock area where Customs and Immigration are located. After a dicey arrival with a bunch of little dinghies and fishing net out, we climbed off and went in search of cold drinks while John got us legalized.

At the bar next to Customs, we waited for John to get the paperwork done. Sandi I had cold "locals" (which here was Carib) and Joel had a rum and Coke. Well, they provide a glass, ice, you pick the size Coke bottle you want and then you get an old coke bottle (glass 7 oz.) filled halfway with amber rum…Jack Rum…180 proof brew from a keg in back. Joel almost had his ass handed to him in a Coke bottle before a local warned him what he was drinking.

We poured part of the rum into his plastic Coke bottle and took it away from him as we went for a late lunch at the Hardwood in Paradise Beach. There we had a local style stewed fish/chicken choice and drank more beer next to the beach. We waited in rain for a bus, which didn't arrive until I just had dropped my pants to offload the beer in the Ladies Room. I have never run for any bus pulling up my pants and doing zipper and belt on the fly.

As Sandi and I roamed with our cameras, the boys went in search of cell phone stuff and rum.

We found a brand new baby goat. He was so new; he was still wet and just trying to get on his feet. We took images of him later and the next day as he "matured". What a cutie, but I fear his future isn't one of happily grazing on the grass of downtown Hillsborough.

We rode around in the tender in the rain, arrived back at Hanco for cocktail hour and an appetizer dinner of left overs. It was an early night on Hanco. I was in bed, and asleep by 8:30 EDT and slept until 6 am when I got up to do notes for my loyal fan base.

Our first full day on Cariacou took us to Hillsborough to enjoy a day tour with Dunstan. He took us over the hills, to the shores and back again. We went up to Hospital Hill and viewed what felt like the entire Caribbean. The hospital was put up there as both a post and to insure that cholera did not spread. In another century, when there was an outbreak, the worst and fatal cases went out to the island off the shore and the ones who might make up came up into the winds of the island away from town.

Right: Dunston, Joel, Sandi and John

We went to Windward, the boat building area of the island which was at one time predominantly Scottish descendants. Blacks were not allowed in the area until sometime in the 1800's. You still see lighter skinned people in the area and they still build boats.

The boats are mostly handmade wooden racers. Sailboat racing is a really big deal in the Leewards with not only prize and betting money on the line, but serious issues of pride. There is a big regatta in Antigua and one in the SVG and Grenada. In fact the Carriacou Regatta 2010 starts happening July 25 and to say it is a "big deal" is being subtle. The boat builders take their job serious as well. We saw a finished boat, one that was still the ribs and one that was almost done and ready for its wooden mast.

Left: An almost finished racer headed for Antigua

They take a wooden pole fashioned from a tree, split it, tunnel it for electronics, put it back together and finish it. Amazing and beautiful both.

One boat builder has an abundance of shipping palates. With these he makes rough furniture that is, frankly pretty cool. I might have to try this on Salt Cay.

Surprisingly both Grenada and Cariacou have recovered well from the effects of 2004's Hurricane Ivan. The destruction was massive with most homes losing their roofs.

As we neared the end of our tour, it was getting late and stormy. We decided since we had to go to the Roundhouse for dinner by road, the beach being too rough for the tender, we would stay in town, drink and then head out.

Bogle's Round House (http://www.boglesroundhouse.com/index_files/restaurant.html ) is one of those unique and funky places where you find things you didn't think you'd find. Bombay Sapphire for one and an excellent wine list. And food…well the food Roxanne Russell puts on your plane is wonderful…some of the best in the Caribbean apparently. Roxanne is not only a great chef; she is welcoming, friendly, and charming person. She is what a chef needs to be, a hostess with good food and welcoming accommodations. The location is marvelous and I highly suggest staying in one of her guesthouses if you are doing a land excursion of the island. They also own the bakery downtown which serves sandwiches that are mouthwatering. We ate there both days enjoying BLT's, tuna, cheese and chicken sandwiches. And we had cookies, cinnamon rolls, key lime pie, carrot cake and special hand squeezed juice blends. This is called, Da Bake Shop.

We considered moving to Tyrell Bay and mooring there, but after a drive over in the tender after snorkeling, stopping at a bar having to indulge in some cold Carib, we changed our collective minds. It looked and felt like a giant yacht slum, and I got sand flea bites at the bar the moment I sat down. My only bites of the entire two weeks actually. Compared to where we were, there was no point moving.

We did a little snorkeling off Mabouya Island, one of the rocky out islands near Hillsborough. Joel and Sandi found a huge tarpon and some other sea life; I found the pelicans and a ton of little fish that swarmed around in schools of a million or so. Here's a little chart of the island and their website: http://www.doyleguides.com/files/coumap.jpg

Right: Pelicans hang out on Mabouya Island while I lurk in the sea weed

Cariacou is worth taking a trip off the beaten Caribbean path. The people are beyond friendly, the island is extremely clean and the food good. Granted, you won't find a burger in paradise all that easily as it is generally island cooking, but if you search a little, as we did you find little golden spots.



Sunday, June 27, 2010

Barbados; Tobago Cays; Grenadines; Grenada

Greetings from the southern extremes of the Caribbean Sea; the Eastern Caribbean countries of St. Vincent and the Grenadines as well as Grenada.

(Left: Morning in Tobago Cays)

I am writing from the fantail of the MY (Motor Yacht) Hanco once again. We were actually allowed back on board by our generous hosts, John and Sandi Moore. As I sit here right now, I am looking at 14 yachts, ranging from a single-handed sailboat to a huge catamaran. Cats are very popular here, more so than mono-hulled sailboats and motorized vessels such as Hanco.

The Tobago Cays are approximately 100 miles due west of Barbados (our point of arrival) and 8 miles from Union Island's airport. It is a marine park with strict guidelines for anchorage and enjoyment. This is where turtles reign supreme. Speed limits are enforced and turtles cannot be ridden by adult or child, or chased. Spotted Eagle Rays glide under the boat which is in about 10 feet of water; turtles come up for air and swim around; Manta's come to the surface and feed on the sprats when the fantail lights are on at night while we barbecue. Or they came for the chicken. Last night we had 4-6 rays swimming and feeding on the surface.

(Right: Landing at Union Island)

But getting here isn't all that easy, regardless of how well planned you make it.

We left Fresno for LAX on Thursday morning at 6 am (required a 3:30 am wake up). We got to LA on time, had some breakfast and boarded our 767 for Miami, having used miles to get a First Class upgrade. Worth every mile and penny to do that as the seats go flat. You'll see where I am going with this soon. We get to Miami way ahead of schedule, confident we'll get our Barbados flight 2 hours later and land in Barbados at 10 pm. Taxi to our hotel, the Butterfly Lodge on the southern coast; while away the morning then catch Air Mustique at 12:30 pm to be captured by our Captain and hauled off to crew the Hanco.

Not.

Thank goodness for 767 First Class seats or we'd have died of broken butt disease.

We got to South Florida only to start circling for an hour off the Everglades. Seems storms were over Miami and the airport was not receiving. Finally we were diverted to Tampa for fuel which turned into several hours more. We were assured that a plane right near us was the very plane destined for Barbados so we were all in the same kettle of fish. Right. Our 4:30 pm arrival turned into a 9:45 pm arrival and the Barbados flight left for Barbados 20 minutes before we pulled up to the gate.

We were given a discount voucher for the nearby Wyndham, had a very late dinner and had new boarding passes for the 10 am Barbados flight. No Barbados breakfast; change flights to late afternoon; try to get hold of our Captain, etc.. Fortunately we had some basics just in case, but that just meant a toothbrush, comb and such. Basic, very basic.

Air Mustique, which combines with other airlines for the Grenadines Air Alliance, took us through the connecting passenger's route and collected our luggage from American to bring to us for onward travel to the other country, the Grenadines. Barbados is a separate country.

(Left: The Tabago Cays where Hanco was anchored)

As we waited in the bar with our little backpacks, Barry from the airline found us, imagine finding us in the bar, to advise us we had no luggage. Seems American did not put it on our flight but he felt it would be on the next AA 618 hopefully coming in that evening as planned. We left for the boat in our now 36 hour old clothes.

We arrived as re-planned, on time at 5pm on Friday, had a cold beer (just step up and say "local please") before boarding the Hanco tender, and started the luggage vigil. Let me say, to make this part short, Air Mustique is one of the best airlines I have ever dealt with. Professional, courteous and honest.

(Right: Our first ice cold "local". Below: the kids love to show

their diving skills)

Saturday, I called to see if our luggage came in, and they were looking right at it. Unfortunately, the Barbados Air Traffic Controllers went on strike without notice and shut down the control tower, thus no flights by Air Mustique and others were allowed in or out. That was resolved long enough Sunday for Air Mustique to get our luggage to Union Island on the first flight.

Thank you, thank you. Kudos to you for your professional and kind service. I am told Air Mustique has been voted one of the best air carriers in the Caribbean and I can understand why. Special thanks to the Barbados ground personnel and to Cynthia Mills Ashton (below right) of the Union Island Grenadine Air Alliance. She had me and our bags in and out of Customs within moments of the plane landing. Thank you.

It is now Wednesday, I sit in fresh clothing yet again, and look out over the Tobago Cays. A cat is gliding out for a new location, its' sail set. Soon we will be firing up the engines and departing for another location. By middle of next week we will be in Grenada, doing some day tripping, rum tasting, food tasting, and boat hanging out.

Life is a bitch, but someone has to live it. More in a few days.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Salt Cay During Whale Season

No, I'm not sitting on a whaling schooner in the Caribbean; I was recently at our house in Salt Cay recovering from a terrible chest and head cold that came as viral baggage apparently. (For more info go to www.saltcay.us) This was not shaping up as the trip of a life time from day one.

Right: South District of Salt Cay with the White House at center

I didn't feel good when I left, thinking I was having the after effects of flu shots (stupid) and trip prep. Wrong. I was getting sick and taking it with me.

And someone stole or appropriated my Kindle when I left it on the airplane at midnight in Miami. Don't even get me started on my 2 hours of airport errands at midnight in the Valley of Hell. All I can say is I hope my former Kindle explodes in the thief's face and spews them with bad writing. After running around, making phone calls and getting frustrated I went to bed at 2 am with the knowledge that at 6 am I could contact lost and found at American.

Left: A conch after the meat is removed

Carol of the Miami American Lost and Found was a big help, but she can't make a stolen Kindle fly into my arms. With 4 hours till flight time I went back to my hotel and sulked.

By the way, when traveling and you have an overnight layover, stay in an airport hotel. Two airports we stay in regularly are Miami and Dallas-Fort Worth. Miami has a hotel right at the E concourse security gates. It is by far the handiest thing going. And reasonable. No cab, no delay. DFW has the Hyatt and Grand Hyatt. One is in Concourse D and is very nice and if you shop it, you can get a good rate.

But, travel in the Greater US of A aside, I am (was then anyway) home in Salt Cay, burrowed into my comfy bed but without anything for a cold except good old Bayer Aspirin. No Vicks, no Nyquil, just Bombay Sapphire Gin and aspirin. And fortunately, my dozen planned Kindle books are on my iPhone that is being worked more than it ever dreamed.

Left: Dunscomb Point's rocky shore

Right now it is sunset and a green flash has just made for a spectacular close to a crappy day health wise. A big old cruise ship from Grand Turk is trundling by on the horizon and I'm sure a few thousand souls missed the green flash until the Captain announced there was one. You may be able to tell I am not a cruise ship kind of person, especially when they are trespassing on my ocean view.

I have not been out whale watching because I am a Judas. I bring rain, but I don't bring whales. But even this trip I've only brought clouds and rough seas, and no rain to speak of. And whales here are a tourist attraction so my presence is not exactly appreciated. In over 10 years I have seen one fluke and the back of a whale escaping Joel's snorkeling. That's it. Others have seen 21 whales on a single dive boat excursion. Other's more and less. Me, if I go on the boat the whales will leave the centuries old route and go to Singapore on vacation and to mate with new whales. I shouldn't be allowed on island unless there is a drought.

Right: The Compass Rose, with the white roof, just after dawn

Now, as I pen this over the two weeks and a couple more at home, because I was so sick I really did not care, I look back and realize I spent most of my working vacation on the patio sofa and in or on the bed. As I told Captain Mike Hawkins, I've spent the better part of two weeks on my back and all of it alone and sick. When my carpenter brings me water and checks on ME I know I am sick. Here's a shot of the newly enclosed patio with Hearty's finished doors and our cool patio furniture.

I did recover long enough to have one dinner party in the new dining room (patio again) and then I mostly ate with friends willing to have a sickly me in for food. My neighbors Don and Donna threw me a can of chicken noodle soup from a distance to keep my germs on my own property when I was at my worst.

Then we had Thursday night Salt Cay Hold 'em Poker. Wow. I came in third. I couldn't last. The competition was stiff and the game went on till 1:30, which by then I was long in bed. They finally called it a draw as no one could deal anymore and no one was really sober anymore either. A $20 buy in made for a good evening of fun and entertainment.

Sadly we had two funerals while I was on island. Two beloved women, Mrs. Natalie Simons and Mrs. Lillian Lightbourne, passed on and they are pictured here. They are and will be missed greatly.

Left: Mrs. Natalie Simons; Right: Mrs. Lillian Lightbourne

The whale deck is now the wifi deck. I can pick up signals all over the island up there. Weak, but a signal. Time to bring a Yagi antenna and booster router I think.

But Salt Cay in spring at the end of the season was still a good time.

I spent the better part of a morning watching Captain Mike lead a crew of expats in the effort to raise the Lucky Lady which ran out of luck during Hurricane Ike and sank at her mooring at Deanne's Dock. Now glued to the bottom of the harbor, she defied Captain Mike and crew's every plan. When I left the thought of little C4 dots around the hull was sounding good. With any luck the boat and the crashed plane from last year will become dive/snorkel sites. But, between my cold and boredom, since I am an Action Jackson kind or reporter, I went home and took a nap.

We also did self help on island when the Airport Authority decided to close the private parking area. Philip Johnstone arranged a work crew and as I documented, they cleaned, regulated and spruced up the airport area for everyone. All is well once again.

Once we were flying, Philip and I did a flight to Grand Turk and had Elinor and Bram Davies as passengers. Later, when we picked them up, old friend and long time Salt Cay folk hero, Bryan Sheedy came into the airport libation clinic where we enjoyed some old times. Salt Cay hasn't really been quite the same since Bryan sold the Mt. Pleasant and the old diver's crowd has turned gray at best. Philip and I enjoyed our Cokes and conch and headed home with a plane load of provisions.

Right: Bram, Elinor and Bryan

I shot the White House and old Salinas at dawn as well as our house. It is so hard to believe someone, well a corporation of foreigners actually, wants to turn this peaceful, historic spot into a marina for 200 foot yachts. Cut a big hole in the island and put boats with absentee owners in it. Put some diesel tanks in and you have a dump for big boats.

In some of my more lucid moments I managed to get down the street to a couple of construction sites. The neighbors are putting in a new sea wall. What a job. And next door, I captured Henry and Pat's hard working Haitian gentleman doing what is called "knocking rocks". This is how we make gravel for cement work. Breaking big stones into little ones.

The close of the trip saw the Ladies Auxiliary plan and put on an island "Pirate Party". Let me tell you, folks pull out the stops for this. All the ladies brought food for a buffet; beer and wine were sold to raise funds and a costume contest was held between sets of DJ music and the Rake and Scrape Band of Salt Cay. I was in charge of transportation it seems, hauling equipment, drinks, finding and hauling the band members and some of our elder ladies from the South District. Since I still wasn't at my peak, I finished my chauffer duties and went to bed before 10.

There was no shortage of costumes. I personally came as a cruise ship tourist, white shorts, shoes and stupid fanny pack, kidnapped by pirates into white slavery. I didn't win but it was one way to dress when one doesn't have a pirate outfit. I didn't know there was such a party happening when I packed.

I managed a little photography and one serious senior portrait of Prince Smith and his great grand children, one of whom was right out of the oven. I also wrote a profile on Polie Dickenson and did some church images with the visiting Archdeacon Cartwright and Father Kendal from Grand Turk. The ladies turned out in force with their white dresses and hats.

Left: Ma Lucy, Miss Mellie, Miss Vida, Nurse Barbara,Miss Amie, Father Mark Kendall, Miss Rosie, Mr. Polie Dickenson, Miss Pat Simmons, Rebecca Simmons, Eloisa Dickenson, Archdeacon Mark Cartwright

I gave Miss Mellie, Miss Rosie and Miss Amie a ride home in the front seat of the Ranger. It was tight, but as Miss Amie said, no was in a position to look up her skirt as she straddled the four on the floor gear shift. It was quite a sight with their 3 white hats fluttering in the cab. Put those ladies in the truck for 5 minutes and the stories and laughter starts flying. Everyone wants to ride with us. Ma Lucy was heartbroken, but we would have had to strap her to the hood like a deer to take her home. I think Miss Ella was envious, but since she wasn't even at church, she couldn't complain too much on being left out.

While at the church I made sure to catch some portraits, including two of our ministers; Noyle Hamilton of the Methodist church and Gary Lightbourne (left) of the Baptist Church. I caught a picture of Gary and his dad, Edwin (left) as well as Gertie Landy and her beautiful granddaughters. (right)

Then it was time to close up; stuff everything into the house for the summer/hurricane season; have Dayo wash and polish the truck to lock it away in its little garage. Luckner drug all the furniture in and swept the patio down. He will keep chopping at the burr grass in my absence in the hope it will be eradicated some day.

Philip and Cynthia flew me off to Provo to catch my Dallas/Ft. Worth flight and we enjoyed a leisurely lunch at Grace Bay.

Word to the wise when going and coming into Provo. Do not do it on Saturday. It is really, really busy at the airline counters. American has self-serve check in computers and I suggest you use them. They are hard to see in a crowd and you have to push your way to them, then push your way to the luggage check position directly in front of you. It is NOT crowding, it is using that line that fills with spillover from the other line.

But for a Saturday departure, the new PLS-DFW American flight is wonderful. Over nighting in Dallas is easy at the D terminal Grand Hyatt and their price isn't too bad if, as I mentioned, you shop it. I have to usually overnight somewhere and LA is too close to home and no airport terminal hotel; Miami is still a long ride home and Provo…well, that makes for an awfully long day to California.

Left: One of our Haitian residents working at the seawall project

I arrived in Fresno at noon with Joel and Marley to pick me up. I was ready to be home, but as you will see, I was off to Bloomington, Indiana a few days later for Corey's exhibition….another Post Card From the Pound coming soon.


Left: Gertie's granddaughter, Ariana Bassett

Right: Prince Smith with his grandaughter

and great grand children