Tobago. From Repairs to Celebration

Tobago. From Repairs to Celebration If something important that holds your mast up has torn away in the ocean, thank God you made it :). Then get on with the repairs, watching for a weather window so you can climb the mast. — That is exactly what this is about. And also about how the dreams of travellers’ children differ from other dreams. And so, on 9 December, our vessel arrived in Tobago, proudly sporting a detached 17-metre forestay — the first island of the Caribbean Sea on our route, a small, cosy, forested part of the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago. It took the storm-battered Lady Mary eight days to reach the “Capital of Paradise” (as the local guidebook proclaims) from South America. The crew had ambitious plans for Tobago: repairs (before the mast fell down), the young sailor’s birthday, ancient rainforest, waterfalls, and bays enchanting in their wild turquoise beauty. We had barely dropped anchor and caught our breath when Lady Mary set off after a 15-metre motor yacht that had broken loose and drifted out to sea and whose owner failed to turn up at all over the next three weeks. A day later, the crew found themselves on another rescue mission: we hauled a half-swamped American dinghy (also known as a tender or small boat) out of the surf and spent half an hour bailing it out. And a fortnight later, already in Grenada, Andrey fished yet another dinghy out of the sea after it had drifted away and returned it to its owner (he did not even saw off the outboard for a friend) :)... Apparently that is our mission in the Caribbean — rescuers. But the main job in Tobago was, of course, the repairs. Repairs in Tobago Major yacht breakdowns are best repaired in Trinidad: they have skilled tradesmen there, as well as at least some spare parts. But we did not want to go to Trinidad, the parts we needed were found on board, and we decided to manage on our own. The captain is up the mast; the first mate is hanging from the stay. Details below 🙂 From the first mate’s diary, on the promising start to the repairs: “Untie the nut!” the captain shouts from the masthead. I untie the nut serving as a sinker from the thick fishing line running inside the mainmast from top to bottom, which is there to reeve the halyard (a kind of rope) back through the mast, and think: “Why the nut?” Have you untied the nut? Yes, I have. The captain starts pulling the line upwards...: You untied the NUT???!!! — ... It turned out the skipper wanted the line untied (it was not tied to anything, but you cannot see that from the mast). As a result of my sabotage, the line soared skywards from the masthead and wrapped itself around the wind generator’s rotor on the neighbouring mast. I hunched my head down between my shoulders. The captain silently climbed down from the mainmast (16 metres), climbed the mizzen (13 metres), then did it again.... Then he climbed down and went back up the mainmast. The wind generator has not been working all day; only the skipper has — his second day up the masts. By way of rehabilitation, I cleaned the yacht’s bottom and sat down to await my punishment. The view from the masthead . How events unfolded Thanks to dogged effort, the following day the halyard was finally hauled up where it needed to go and secured there. The wind generator was freed from its bonds, and, encouraged, we prepared to raise the forestay itself. An old sailors’ superstition says: if you are planning to climb the mast with serious intent, expect bad weather. A squall swept in, churned up the sea and flew away — nothing unusual there. This particular squall, however, left three days of steady 20-knot wind in its wake. During a two-hour lull, the skipper managed to dash up the mast, fiddle with something there, scramble back down, and resume waiting for a weather window. The boat rolled, crockery went flying, and getting ashore was difficult. Three days later, we finally managed to raise the forestay and lower the sail. In the process, we discovered that the forestay had not merely torn loose in the ocean; it had bent as well. We spent another couple of days trying to straighten, tension and adjust it. We fitted wooden splints, pulled on it, and even suspended the first mate at the point of the bend.... (This did nothing to straighten the stay, but it cheered up all the neighbours.) We left it as it was until better times. The repaired forestay passed the test of five-metre seas and strong winds with flying colours. Even the remaining bend does not make the crew’s life particularly miserable, but merely makes the captain’s biceps even more steely and well-defined. . The young sailor’s birthday and children’s dreams Our first Caribbean week brought not only repairs, but also the elder young sailor’s birthday, which the birthday girl categorically demanded be celebrated ashore. When something has always been available to a person from early childhood, they do not realise it is something one can dream about... That is why travellers’ children do not dream of travelling. Logical, though it does not immediately occur to you :). Travellers’ children dream of shopping centres, McDonald’s, several hours on the internet, and even of finding themselves in Siberia amid the March slush.... Oh, and an iPhone too. What do travellers’ children get on their birthdays? — Trying to paint Nastya’s celebration in bright colours, we visited a shopping mall and even bought... shorts for the skipper. McDonald’s was replaced with KFC (how do they — children — love this stuff?!?). There was internet right at our table, and the young sailor received birthday wishes in full. Instead of an iPhone, her parents gave her a promise to buy a waterproof Sony smartphone. As for a slushy March in Siberia... that was promised too (and almost delivered, but more about that later) :). Breakfast on the young sailor’s birthday, and only... drink Champagne in the morning 🙂 We backed up our festive promises with a visit to an eye-wateringly expensive restaurant on the coast, and after paying the bill, our spare cash became rather less available. To round things off, we bought a cake and decided to declare the following day her birthday all over again and spend the day driving around the island. Tobago — the smaller of the islands highlighted in yellow in the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago How we got bogged down in the forest, how many waterfalls we found and why we did not swim in them, as well as photos of turquoise lagoons, a Swedish family and Pirate’s Bay — all in the next post. Wishing everyone warmth, whatever the weather! Sunset at the Store Bay anchorage, southern Tobago Rather high up, though Secluded Englishman’s Bay — coming in the next instalment 🙂