“There are many points on the Compass Rose.  I had to locate the few that were meant for me and head for those that summoned me with a passion, for they were the ones that gave meaning to my life.”

– Richard Bode, First You Have To Row A Little Boat

The Tobago Cays is a group of five uninhabited tiny islands that was plunked here in the Caribbean in the middle of Grenada and St. Vincent.  You can barely see them on most maps.  Many people have never heard of them.  But for this year-long journey, I may never have seen them.  But my inner Compass Rose had led us here and we will never be the same.

Entering the cays between the reefs was challenging and required VPR (Visual Piloting Rules).  This means that the charts are helpful, but you need to use eyeball navigation to make sure you are aware of coral heads and shallow sand bars.  We found a good place to anchor and sat back to gaze around at the five islands around us.

We made fresh pumpkin-mango muffins for breakfast the next morning and then headed over to Petit Bateau (Island #1) to check out the most popular of the five Tobago Cays.  We met a woman named Bethel, who lives on Union Island.  Her daughter Dimali goes to Stephanie Browne Primary School and was one of the lovely young girls who played with our kids after we worked on the library.  Bethel sells t-shirts on the beach and hosts lobster cookouts while her husband, Free Willy, goes lobstering on his boat.  The kids played on the beach while Chris and I listened to Bethel’s life story, which took us from Trinidad to Canada and back to the Grenadines.  It was a lovely connection that we will never forget.

The next morning, Porter was feeling achy and tired so he and I snuggled together until he felt better.  Bryson and Reese did schoolwork and by lunchtime, we were all ready for Island #2.  We took the dinghy to Petit Tabac and had a picnic lunch with Anything Goes.  We had so much fun that we returned the next day.  The kids ran off to build a fort beneath the trees while we sat on the beach, snorkeled, read books, chatted, and enjoyed the view.  Wendy and I took a little walk around the tiny island.  Bryson climbed a palm tree and got coconuts for us all.  Craig and Chris set to work with machetes and knives to open them for us to drink.

 

It was all very Robinson Crusoe (which by the way was written in 1719 and was originally titled: The Life and Strange Surprizing Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner: Who lived Eight and Twenty Years, all alone in an un-inhabited Island on the Coast of America, near the Mouth of the Great River of Oroonoque; Having been cast on Shore by Shipwreck, wherein all the Men perished but himself. With An Account how he was at last as strangely deliver’d by Pirates. (sic)  How awesome is that?)  To top off the drama, romance, and intrigue of the day, we had landed our dinghies on the exact spot on the beach where Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann were stranded in the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie.  It was the scene where Elizabeth sets fire to Jack’s stash of rum.

Over the course of our visit, we all visited pretty Baradel (Island #3).  The water around the island is roped off as a sanctuary for turtles.  We snorkeled there and swam with so many big sea turtles that it was impossible to count them all.  I never tire of watching them graze along the sea bottom and then gracefully glide to the surface for air.  We stayed far enough away to enjoy their presence without bothering them, grateful for the opportunity to witness their beautiful existence.

The next day we enjoyed the beauty of our surroundings while going about our everyday business of schoolwork, cleaning the boat, and cooking.  One of the boat boys delivered fresh banana bread to us in the morning.  In the afternoon, we moved to a calmer anchorage next to Petit Rameau (Island #4).

We dinghied in that night to enjoy a beach barbecue with Bethel and her daughters Dimali and Talisia.  Free Willy supplied the lobsters.  It was a magical night, with the full moon rising between the palm trees as we danced, ate, and drank on the beach.

 

 

 

 

Not ready to have the night end, we put the kids to bed and enjoyed an adult full moon party by skinnydipping off our boats and swimming to the nearby beach.  No pictures of that scene….

The next morning, we had planned to leave for Bequia, but we just couldn’t bring ourselves to leave this beautiful paradise.  I was so very glad, for the lingering perfectionist in me would not have left happily had I not managed to step foot on the fifth and final Tobago Cay: Jamesby.  We headed over and played for the afternoon after washing the dinghy and the transom, and having lobster leftovers for lunch!  The Tobago Cays had taken a special place in our hearts.  No words or pictures could capture our time here.  If you ever have the chance, please go and enjoy it!