Sailing Faith: The Long Way Home

Island Hopping – Part Two

Gregory brought fresh fruit to boats in Rodney Bay, St. Lucia

Amanda is keenly aware of the comfort she derives from her friends, and her best friend is Jacob.  Before we left Hampton, Virginia, Jacob and Amanda were plotting his visit.  Early in the Caribbean, Jacob and his mother Lorraine asked to join us in St. Lucia for a week and that becomes our first destination with a fixed schedule.

We enter St. Lucia at Rodney Bay, an area defined by the cruising sailors passing through on their way to someplace else.  We then sail south to Vieux Fort, where the airport is located.  While walking to the airport, giggling school girls touch us and place their arms next to ours to contrast the colors.  White is exotic, and Greggii, blond and cute, is a special attraction.

The streets are lined with fruit markets under lean-to shelters or no shelter at all, selling gum, knickknacks, rolling papers, fish, and jewelry.  Everybody nods acknowledgement, maybe because we’re from somewhere else, or maybe that is how they do things here.

Once Jacob and Lorraine join us, we try to show them our lives on their brief timetable.

We return to Rodney Bay, then go to Castries to show them the contrast between the true life of Vieux Fort, the meshing of cultures in Rodney Bay, and the departure from reality of places that host cruise ships.  We hire a day trip from Marigot that disappoints most of us who toured with Sea-Cat (nothing will disappoint Amanda this week) but is enjoyed by Jacob and Lorraine.  The botanical park, built around a waterfall, has the handrails and barricades one expects at Disney, meant to keep you in the right place.  The waterfall appears reinforced with concrete, because nature doesn’t need the same definition where tourism is involved.  At the end of the tour, our guide takes us to his wife’s restaurant where the prices reflect the captive market.

When we return to Faith, a man waits to collect his fee for watching our dinghy, which is locked around a palm tree next to the guard’s booth of the restaurant we’re anchored in front of.

We enjoy island hopping less and less as we move among them, staying only long enough in each place to become slightly amazed or annoyed based on our sentiments that day.  We experience growing irritation with many islanders’ approach to us.  It’s like we approach and they see big ATM signs on our foreheads.  My sensibilities challenge me to look at myself, and to look at a racism I never previously acknowledged, and to wonder what other surprises – surprises I’ve kept hidden in my life – will surface as our journey continues.

We’re new to this life, and we share apprehension and even fear of the worlds we will come into contact with over the course of our voyage, much of it bred in our American perspective that the world is a scary place.

Greggii wakes early while I’m listening to the Caribbean 1500 chat – a discussion, with a prearranged time on the single sideband radio, SSB.   He asks if he can call Magic Dragon.

“Magic Dragon, Magic Dragon, this is Faith.”

“Faith, this is Magic Dragon.  How wonderful to hear you,” sings Linda.

“Um, yes…where are you?”

“We just got to Tortola last week.  Where are you now?”

“Um,” he looks at me, “Where are we, Dad?”

“St. Lucia.”

He keys the microphone and says, “Magic Dragon, this is Faith, We’re in St Lucia.”

Linda says, “Faith stand by,” then a moment later, “John and I will be there in three or four days.  We want to see you again.  We’ll come to Rodney Bay and call when we get close.”

“Um, OK, Faith out.”

“Magic Dragon, out.”

After dropping off Jacob and Lorraine at the airport in Vieux Fort, we return to Rodney Bay to visit John and Linda.  Their arrival is the best thing possible for Lorrie at this time, and they tell her what we’re doing is great.  John senses I’m too close to be a good teacher, and schools the three girls in sailing basics for two hours on each of the two days we’re with them.  My insecurity creeps out and I ask what they’re learning and what John does different than me.  John instead uses this time to build Lorrie’s confidence in my abilities and in our plans.

The Caribbean is a difficult place to start, but by necessity, it’s our place.  Maybe, it’s not the Caribbean at all, but the start of our journey that’s difficult.  We’re fortunate for the friends we are meeting, but they’re fleeting because of the paths chosen.