L’Esterre Bay has a long crescent beach backed by sea grapes, manchineel, palms and such. The village of L’Esterre is mostly out of sight behind the trees until the houses reappear climbing the steep hills behind the bay. Across the bay and beyond the channel lies iconic Sandy Island. To the left of Sandy at twice the distance is bluff little Mabouya Island. Farther left, across a broad channel, Cistern Point rejoins us to the mainland of Carriacou in the Grenadines. This is picture postcard stuff. And what lies beneath the water has been designated a marine protected area.
It is Saturday, junior sailing day. There are six sailing dinghies out on the bay, five Optimist-like prams for the kids and an Opti that was reinvented for adult sailing and equipped to row for rescue – Cocoa, the one with the colorful sail. Allison is at the water’s edge watching the fleet. She’s in charge. Olando is in the water with a couple of kids and a capsized dinghy. He's teaching self-rescue and bail-while-you-sail to qualify kids for solo sailing. He also makes sure they can swim. Most of the boats have two kids aboard, one who knows how to sail helping one who doesn’t yet. Akim is sailing Cocoa, the escort boat, safety and coaching.
I’m sitting at one of the shaded tables scattered around the beach in front of Curtis’s beach bar, Off the Hook. I brought a camera with a powerful telephoto. I'm here to watch from a distance and to have a cold one and a pizza. I resigned as operations manager yesterday. This is their show.
I even arrive late. The lifejackets have been lowered from the tree and the boats are being rigged. As I go to the bar to get a cold Ting, Allison passes and says, “I can’t find enough bailers, Hutch. Are we out of bailers?” “Could be,” I answer. “Oh, that’s right, you’re not here,” and she's off to scrounge up another bailer. Boats don’t sail without a bailer – and nobody sails without a lifejacket. But I’m not here, so I find a nice piece of shade in the distance.
Last week, still being operations manager, I was there but at the fringe. It had been sort of a dress rehearsal for today. I had been keeping an eye on things, still offering suggestions, still teaching. There was a lot to keep an eye on. They had plenty of wind and an interesting assortment of equipment problems. The forecast was for east wind, 10 to 15 knots, but it had been a solid 15. Then it began gusting to 20. Akim moved the mark in to group the fleet more. The boats sailed out and back in waves, round after round. During round two Cocoa had a rudder problem that was quickly fixed. The next round the tack of one of the sails worked loose. The wind became more gusty and one of the boats knocked down. They were having problems self-rescuing so Akim towed them in. By the end of round four it was 20 knots gusting to 25, near the limit for a kid in an Opti. Some of the sprits got re-tightened, and they set off on the final round. Akim had been righteously tired at the end of a previous session and had taken my point that it might be nice to have another escort sailor to give him a break. And this windy session was working him even harder. But I don’t think you could have taken the boat away from him, he was having too much fun. When told it was the final round, he took the fleet clear to the far end of the bay.
Today’s forecast is also for 10 to 15 knots. And that’s what we’ve got. Not as exciting as last week but a fun breeze. What problems they might be dealing with I can’t tell from here. Things seem to be going smoothly. The boats sail out, do the course, and sail back, looking good. Then they sail out again.
There are five white sails out there today. It had taken nearly all the equipment we had and more. From this distance they all look the same, but it is actually something of a motley fleet. Three are Opti knock-offs, two are Mosquitoes. Some of the spars are plumbing pipe, one mast has a wooden plug to make it fit the mast step, one rig is bamboo, other spars are from unknown dinghies long forgotten. Three of the boats are rudder specific, one has a mast step that only two of the rigs fit. Most of the sails are old, as are the lifejackets. Arguably the boats could use some paint. None of them would pass measurement for an official class race. But all of them are out there sailing, and eleven kids showed up to sail them.
Today has better to come. The kids are still out getting boat time. But it is noon, time for me to get another cold Ting and to have Curtis start a pizza for me.
Curtis has a key role in the sailing program, though you'll find him in the kitchen on sailing days. He provides the location and security for the fleet and its gear and keeps an eye on such sailing as happens on non-sailing days. And his powerboat, moored close to shore, is a safety backup for the fleet. His establishment, Off the Hook, sprawls along and behind the beach from where the dirt road ends under large, shady trees hung with swings, past a scattering of shaded tables and hammocks, to the bar and its compound, built tree to tree – including the tree where the lifejackets are stowed and a tree with a small boat wrecked on its limbs. The kitchen is a separate building with a guest room attached. Behind the bar are two boat sheds and the equipment box for the kid’s club. Rent was the club's biggest expense before, now it is free. So I reckon that eating a pizza kind of helps pay the club's rent. I mean if I needed an excuse – it's good pizza. Pizza isn't all that's on Curtis's menu, this is Off the Hook. Also, ice cream.
The club is now entirely sufficient in local hands, I can return to retirement. After the session I tell Allison, "When I come back in months or years, if it is no better or worse than now, I will be a happy man." and give her a hug.
Update. It continues to get better. Three Saturdays later when sixteen kids showed up, Allison said she was going to have to set a limit. Then they did a mid-week sail and BBQ on a holiday, a "special events day". The following Saturday Allison reported fourteen kids on time – two came late. On time. Fathom that. And another local sailor, Kirsann, has joined the team. Meanwhile, realizing what was happening, a local donor ordered sails, lifejackets, and replacement spars – an individual, from the heart... or is it the mind?
What might a visitor do to help? Come mid-morning and watch, have Curtis fix you lunch as they finish sailing and put the gear away. Then ask Allison. If you've got kids who want to sail, Allison says be there on time – 10:00.
I think they could use some more boats – maybe a variety of boats.
Caribbean Compass, March 2013