The coastline of southern Tobago was lovely, green and lush, and a refreshing change from the black, volcanic barrenness of Southern Spain and the Canaries. We were told later that the north coast of Tobago is much nicer and provides a good cruising ground, but we were in a hurry at that point to get to Trinidad. There was no marina at Scarborough so we just anchored in the harbour and were the only yacht there.
After a cursory wash, we grabbed our papers and rowed into the port, found the authorities and did our check in. Formalities completed, we took a tour of the town. It was so good to be on solid land again, we felt like running all over the place like kids. The lack of motion was fine whilst walking but when I stopped for any length of time, the part of my brain that was still swaying made me feel slightly dizzy. It was quite funny, but didn’t last long. Scarborough was a scruffy little joint reminding me vividly of certain areas of my Zimbabwean home town, Harare. The pot holed roads and pavements were dotted with small street vendors selling all manner of fresh produce and the usual range of eclectic junk one finds in flea markets. Loud Reggae music blared discordantly from half a dozen sources, and people ambled about in leisurely, almost aimless fashion. We were the only white folk, but apart from a few polite nods, we were ignored. The buildings were mostly small, dirty and dilapidated - the most modern and clean-looking housing a clutch of government offices, painted lilac, pink and pale blue.
There wasn’t much to see, so after a short tour we went looking for a restaurant as we had promised ourselves a celebratory meal out at our first port of call. We were to be disappointed. There were no real restaurants to be found at all and eventually we found a small fast food joint which served depressingly unexotic American-type food – I had a burger and Mike had fried chicken, both with chips. The only drinks available were sodas – so we had a coke each, deliciously cold! There were bottles of chilli sauce available and Mike helped himself to the hottest one – so fiery it burned his sun-chapped lips. He loved it!
After dinner we did a little provision shopping, there wasn’t a great variety available though we did manage to buy a couple of bottles of that chilli sauce. We found a phone and put Pairose’s mind at rest, and then returned to the boat. Back on board I set about cleaning the interior (salt collects everywhere like dust) and changed the bed linen (which was beyond description by then), whilst Mike rowed back ashore and collected a few jerry cans of water. We fell into bed shortly after dark and slept for nearly twelve hours solid. Bliss! After an uneventful but restful weekend we left Tobago and set sail for Chaguaramas Bay, near Port of Spain, in Trinidad.
Sailing slowly along the north coast of Trinidad at about 4 am we passed a number of fishing boats coming out of the bay and heading for the open sea. Suddenly, Forever’s hull hit something and there was this continuous loud rattle under the boat, she listed over to one side and slowed right down. We were horrified and didn’t know what it was, but it passed and as the fishing boats also passed we realised, with considerable anger, that it had been a fishing net. Fortunately, we hadn’t had our engine on or we could have snagged our propeller – catastrophic both for us and the fishing net. We had our lights on and there was no way he couldn’t see us, but just couldn’t be bothered to wait till he’d passed us.
After dinner we did a little provision shopping, there wasn’t a great variety available though we did manage to buy a couple of bottles of that chilli sauce. We found a phone and put Pairose’s mind at rest, and then returned to the boat. Back on board I set about cleaning the interior (salt collects everywhere like dust) and changed the bed linen (which was beyond description by then), whilst Mike rowed back ashore and collected a few jerry cans of water. We fell into bed shortly after dark and slept for nearly twelve hours solid. Bliss! After an uneventful but restful weekend we left Tobago and set sail for Chaguaramas Bay, near Port of Spain, in Trinidad.
Sailing slowly along the north coast of Trinidad at about 4 am we passed a number of fishing boats coming out of the bay and heading for the open sea. Suddenly, Forever’s hull hit something and there was this continuous loud rattle under the boat, she listed over to one side and slowed right down. We were horrified and didn’t know what it was, but it passed and as the fishing boats also passed we realised, with considerable anger, that it had been a fishing net. Fortunately, we hadn’t had our engine on or we could have snagged our propeller – catastrophic both for us and the fishing net. We had our lights on and there was no way he couldn’t see us, but just couldn’t be bothered to wait till he’d passed us.
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