Wet 'n' wild landing in Grenada

Our dreams were finally coming true. The last three passages had been mostly sailing, mostly beam reach. So this is that champagne sailing we keep hearing about?

Between Carriacou and Grenada we glided past Kick 'Em Jenny, an underwater volcano being closely monitored for activity. One day she may become an island, but not that day. We did see some bizarre bubbles but easily convinced ourselves they were the result of wave action not geothermal activity.

We sailed down the West coast of Grenada smoothly, all the while monitoring the storm clouds along the highest ridges of the island, peeking over the mountaintop to our left. There was another storm off to our right side, but in between the two of them the skies were blue and our little world was perfect.

Our destination was the anchorage at Prickly Bay Harbor, on the South side of the island of Grenada. There's a small island closeby and a shallow shelf between them. As we turned left around the bottom corner of Grenada and into the shallow shelf, it became clear that the storm that had been on the ridgeline would eventually make its way to us. We weren't sure what the one behind us was doing. We scurried quickly across the shallow shelf and into Prickly Bay Harbor.

Our first med moor experience was in Guadaloupe

We picked that spot weeks ago because it is close to the veterinarian university that processes Trinidad pet checkouts; there are restaurants and grocery stores nearby and everything that we would need while we worked our way through bureaucratic approval. So, imagine our disappointment when we could not find a place to drop the hook on our first or second lap through. The boats already there were anchored quite closely to one another, and we have indelibly learned our lesson about short rode (see the Chesapeake City story). When we agreed that couldn't find a safe spot we left for the next bay over, True Blue. The storm on the ridgeline was advancing and the storm that followed us in waited in the shallow channel behind us, not a safe place to be in high winds and chop; we needed to find a spot to land and fast.

On our first pass through True Blue we noticed the few boats there were really rolling around from the wrap-around swell that comes in off the open ocean. Some of the mast swaying looked quite unpleasant. We took a lap trying to find a quiet place to land, and were eyeballing the brand new large mooring balls when the storm hit.

Conch shell pile in Carriacou

A recent purchase for us is a pair of headsets that allow us to speak quietly to one another instead of the usual shouting to be heard over the engine noise. We also traditionally use a lot of hand signals so that Lance knows where to direct the boat while I try to land her safely at anchor, on mooring balls, and in a slip. It's good we already had them on our heads when the storm hit because Lance could not see my hand signals on the bow of the boat and I could not see the mooring ball in the suddenly frothy water. We took a second pass at it and I had no better luck at catching it the second time in the high wind.

The rain came on with such ferocity it felt like BBs hitting my face. I knew I would not be able to see the mooring ball pennant to hook it a third time around either and made the snap decision to drop the hook right in the middle of the empty mooring field. As I was dropping it Lance was suggesting the same thing. It's bizarre how we are so often in sync.

The anchor hit the sand hard and I paused the chain payout for a moment to be sure I didn't pile the chain on top of it (another lesson learned in the heat of the moment), and then let it run free while the wind hurled Minerva backwards and sideways. Lance was watching behind us for any potential obstacles and I was counting out the chain to him over the headset as it went out. When we agreed we had enough chain out I stopped paying it out and Minerva's bow snapped right around. The mighty Mantus rocks again! We had hooked well.

After setting the drag alarm, we took turns wringing out our clothes and keeping watch until the high winds passed by, made a nice dinner and relaxed into the rolly swell and rain on the deck for the night. First thing the next morning we made our way into a swanky nearby marina where we tied up and enjoyed some air conditioning for the week.

Chloe waiting patiently for the Grenada vet

Of course getting the dog approved for Trinidad meant we had to rent a car to go right back over the hill to the area of Prickly Bay. Come to find out there are pretty good restaurants over there too, so we made several trips back to the neighborhood, but always gratefully returned to our air conditioned boat in the peaceful waters of the marina.

Trinidad is next. That's where we will protect Minerva from hurricane season, and her crew will relax and explore a whole new country for a few months.