Curfew on Carriacou

The 7:00 a.m. garbage run gives Peter a legitimate kayak excursion twice a week.  

The degree of quarantine and curfew are constantly changing bringing a bit of excitement and adaptation to an otherwise quiet existence on Milly.  Life here is, indeed, odd although we both find it quite pleasant.  We are still anchored in a lovely bay in Carriacou, a small island belonging to Grenada.  There are many boats here some of which are empty.  Probably about 50 boats with crew on board.

The main island of Grenada has 12 cases of COVID-19 and Carriacou zero.  This count has stayed stable for more than a week.  Strict government mandates have been made in an attempt to ensure no new cases for at least 14 days.  Carriacou is trying to prevent any cases from coming to the island by stopping ALL people movement onto the island.  It all makes Carriacou a good place to be from the point of view of staying free of the virus.

My last post took you up to March 25th.  Crews were not allowed to go ashore, not even a step.  Uniformed gatekeepers kept watch at many of the docks but, as far as I know, the boaters obeyed the law.  Many feared that scoff-laws would jeopardize the hospitality of the government and yachts and crew could be expelled.  This would be a dire consequence to wanting to stretch your legs - very few islands have an open border to yachties and arriving yachts are turned away.  Hence, we are staying on board while looking at many locals hanging out together without regard for a 6 foot space - may be another reason why cruisers are choosing to stay on board.

Our only guests in the past three weeks were laughing gulls.  They were uninvited but had a great time.

Because some Grenadians were not abiding by the 6-ft rule, on Monday, March 30, the government imposed a 24 hour curfew for one week for all citizens.  The curfew has recently been extended to April 20th.  No one is allowed out of their house except for groceries or emergency medical assistance.  No recreation.  Drones are being used on Grenada to monitor the roads and gathering places.  Over one hundred arrests have been made with fines and prison sentences as the consequences.  There are road blocks at parish boundaries with very limited movement of essential workers only.  On Carriacou, the police do the monitoring - I have seen cars quietly and slowly cruising the road during the night - and arrests have been made.  They are very serious about keeping the population virus-free which, of course, we appreciate but I have always been very privileged to live in places where I am free to wander when I want to and at will.  It is peculiar!

There was no selling of beer, wine or spirits for one week. Apparently, partying or liming is a major reason why the islanders have not been social distancing so with no alcohol there’s less reason to get together - I think that’s the logic.

A spiny lobster treat one night.  The poor beast sat in a bucket with neither of us keen to put him in the pot.  Gallant Peter did the dirty deed.  And then we enjoyed the sweet, tender tail meat of one enormous lobster for two meals.  So tasty that we are now motivated to add free-diving for lobster hunt to our "things to do" list.

On April 6, for the first time in two weeks, the ferry/cargo ship, Amelia, was allowed to make a cargo only trip to Grenada.  The anticipation of fresh produce was mouthwatering!  And even more exciting, was the lifting of the ban from going ashore for boaters, one person per boat and only for groceries during the three half-day per week shopping allowances.  No recreation/walking for pleasure.  We were very low on cash so Peter, decked out in bathing suit, t-shirt, blue and green scarf/mask, safety glasses and hat went to the ATM looking like a colourful hoodlum - wish I'd had the camera.  Many locals were hanging out in the parking lot without masks.  Hmmmm.

This was a special, maybe once a month, shopping experience.  The owner of the store sent 21 photos of inventory.  I scanned, made a list, ordered and she delivered.  Wow!  Even Kettle Chips.

Monday we also had a delivery of beer and wine - somehow the ban was lifted for these entrepreneurial providers - and lovely staples including four packages of tortillas, not found since Canary Islands.  And costing buckets of bucks.

On Wednesday we were allowed to shop, again one person per boat, with mask and glasses.  This time I was the bandit.  First stop, the veggie stand with very limited but ok produce.  Four plantains, two tiny eggplants, two even smaller tomatoes, two cucumbers, two papayas for $55EC or about $27CDN.  We are not spending on anything else at the moment so it's ok for us but I can't imagine how the locals without an income are managing.

Next, the grocery store.  This is new since we were last here four years ago.  A largish, modern store set back from the road with expansive parking lot - my size-related adjectives are very relative to the tiny island and 8,000 population.  I think everyone on the island was anticipating the bounty brought by Amelia.  The line-up was long, winding and exceptionally slow moving, only ten allowed in the store at one time.  I waited two hours in the shadeless parking lot with mask, sunglasses and latex gloves but no hat.  I, naively, had thought I'd be in and out.  It was a hot 2 hours but never dull.  Standing on land was a treat and the people watching and listening was endlessly entertaining.

As I approached the front of the line, I could see some bananas and melons through the windows.  Salivation. When I finally got in, the bananas were gone.  The honey dew melon that I quickly grabbed ended up being about $17CDN - I guess that's why they were still on the shelf.   

So here we bob.  I do 45-60 minutes of yoga, a longish swim across the bay and aquafit.  Peter was paddling every day but we’re not supposed to leave our boats in any extended way, even to kayak.  Occasionally, he sneaks out, the guilt interfering with the pleasure.  We both read, of course.  I am continuing with Spanish Duolingo and at some point will start drawing.  Peter will take up the guitar again.  And then we spend a great deal of time keeping up with friends, family and world news on the internet.  Our SIM card has become our most precious possession.

Sneaking in a paddle in beautiful clear blue water.

We have a radio net here for cruisers on VHF so can stay connected.  I have started coordinating a trivia game twice a week for those interested which is fun  - if you have any questions, send them along - and we all blow various sounding devices at sunset.  After four years, Peter cut the big conch shell another cruiser had given us.  We can make a loud low authentic honk every evening when lips are pursed just right.  Otherwise, it's a sputter.  It's incredible how these small acts of community become so meaningful - our only real connection to the boats around us.

Peter and I are grateful to be on a comfy home/boat with connections to family and friends.  We’re healthy and happy, albeit at tad restless as I'm sure most are in this strange new world.

The Super Pink Moon.  Large pleasures in a simple life.