CCVII – Running for Mayor

Friday March 13th, 2015

IMG_2151.PNG

Seems like just a month ago we struggled through a Friday the 13th and here we go again. The wind is presently ESE at 20 gusting 25. We are comfortable here off Oven Rock when the wind has any East in it. It is also getting old hat to look out the port and see the anchor light from Last Mango and to starboard Ty’s bar and grill. Ty’s is lit up like a Christmas brothel.

Normally this wind would be ok, we could reef down the boat and move along safely. The issue; we are on the bank, shallow water subject to a three foot tidal swing. This water only has so many ways to go to get off the bank or on the bank. This tidal flow creates currents that can be 4 to 5 kts when running. Couple the current and the narrow passages with the sea state on the ocean side and you can get some interesting, terrifying and interesting issues while attempting to traverse. Further, we don’t want to beat the boats up just to get to George Town. (Although Mangos daughter is coming on Saturday and I think they would drag the boat behind them to get to her).

It becomes less comfortable as it goes to SE as we get more fetch from the cut and the village. The boat is well protected but we do get some chop and the boat does bob and weave a bit. The only downside to this little bob and weave is I am unable to weigh my coffee in the morning. The electronic scales will not zero so I am winging it…a coffee nerd with no scales, JEEZUZ

Perhaps a little about Little Farmers Cay N23 57.429 W076 19.259. Farmers Cay has some topography, low rolling hills and two harbours both a little shallow but they make do with them. The population is around 50 they have a school that presently goes to grade 4 or 5. The children have to leave the island for the remainder of their education, one or both parents move or the child is sent to live with relatives to complete education. The present teacher has kids from K to Grade five in one room.

The houses in the village are simple, colourful and in various states of repair. The yards are full of flowering shrubs, cacti, boat remnants and golf carts. Church and religion are central to their lives. We have been invited to church several times. My grandfather Wright was a Baptist. He had his own Sunday school on the Wright farm. The church here is a Baptist church as well. We met an eight year old girl who suggested the attire that the ladies should wear. I will accept no suggestions but I am considering my pink wig…haven’t had that baby out yet on this trip. I was thinking of taking it in this afternoon and seeing if any of the ladies could fix it up. We also met the five year old boy who will be the Emcee for the big church event on Sunday. Roosevelt Nixon’s wife will be made a church elder during the service. Unluckily or luckily I hope to be exiting through the cut just as Church is in full swing…praise the Lord.

Little Farmers Cay was settled by a woman named Chrissana and her three small children; James Michael, Adam and Eve (not the original Adam and Eve (Perhaps descendants)). They bought the Cay from the British crown for 30 Pounds. The Cay was then willed to the descendants as equal tenants in common. Only descendants could build on the island and they could not sell to ‘outsiders’.

IMG_2152.JPGThere is a grocery store but ‘Tash’ won’t let us go in because all she has left is green bananas. The mail boat only comes here every other Wednesday and hopefully we will miss that. I am down to my last couple of beer so I hope that somewhere on the Cay there is a cash of Kalik that will keep me going til George Town. The name Kalik is supposed to represent the sound that cowbells make… ML thinks that all the beer and rum is affecting my complexion…I think it is all the friggin sun screen. Perhaps the mouse under the snoz needs trimming and weeding…Tabernac

I forgot to mention the other day when we were at J’s bar the girls sampled a new drink. J whipped them up a coconut rum with carnation milk. They lapped that down.

Our day on the Cay began with a landing at Ty’s bar and grill. This establishment also serves as the terminal for the airport. Planes are parked at the front door and dinghies at the back door. You can see from the pictures that the runway is directly beside the bar and there is a cross walk for pedestrians to get across. Look both ways for midgets and airplanes. (Look both ways for midgets is my favourite line from Boston Legal).

John decided to buy a conch salad from the local dockside Chef. In total the guy put about an hours work into a $10 salad with a $2 discount. John munched that baby down on our walk back to the dinghy. The preparation of the conch for the salad is interesting to say the least. The guy (whose name I couldn’t understand (he professed to being quite drunk a result of drinking all day ( it was 1:30))) tapped the shell of the selected conch punching a small hole. Into said hole he inserted a knife and wiggled it around, I expect to detach the conch from his house. Suddenly this alien thing is hanging from his hand…the interior or a conch. No freakin wonder they live in a shell. You will see from the pictures below what I mean.

We visited with the locals for a while and then made our way across the cay to get back to the airport, Ty’s and our dinghy. I forget to pay attention to the tide and we had pulled the dinghy up high and dry. When we came back the tide was down two feet and the dinghy was 50 feet from the ocean. Luckily the ladies have strong backs and were able to pull the dinghy back to the ocean under our supervision.

Oh ya, we were invited over to Last Mango for dinner. I have to say that the spaghetti and meat balls were the best I have ever eaten. The dinner was followed by home made brownies also the best I have ever eaten. 🙂

Here are some pictures from our day. They are lower resolution than normal because I only have a narrow internet connection…

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.