Jeff’s log continues with the entry for Saturday 14th February 1998
Saturday 14th February 1998
No Valentine card for me today, however I created one for Les to give to Rene and she was like a castrated glowworm—delighted. We had an unhurried breakfast before being hailed by Gordon. The Coastguard had asked him to get us to move. Looks like they’re up to their old tricks again of ‘Keep the Yachtie on the Move’. We had been anchored in the same spot for four days. Now they decided to move us because we could be in the way of the ferry. That would not have been so bad but we later discovered that there were no ferries running on Saturdays. We anchored twice before ending up almost in the spot that we vacated but uncomfortably close to “Chancy”. Stella and Gordon said that they would be on board all day so not to worry ourselves and go off as planned.
It was an hour later than we had intended that we arrived at the bus terminal. Here we found that most of the public transport did not operate on Saturdays, only the two services that we had already used. We elected to go back to Crown Point and look about the area. There was half an hour to kill so we had a look round the colourful local market with its excellent vegetables and food. There were a few kiosks selling hot food and I tried to get a sahina each for Les and Rene. They were all sold out today. In the end we settled for corned beef pies. They were unsweetened dough filled with a corned beef, hot sauce and shadow bene mixture that is then deep-fried. It was fresh, different and not unpleasant.
The drive to Crown Point was uneventful though run at a speed more often found on the racetrack of a Grand Prix circuit. We walked to a spot in the grounds of a small guesthouse and sat on a bench that had a peaked palm thatched roof. After a little while, looking out over a gorgeous view, I became restless and Les and Rene said they would sit and enjoy the view whilst I took a stroll. I did not see much of interest but managed to expend some energy. When we met up on my return, we thought it might be an idea to walk to Pigeon Point and set off to that end.
Nearing our goal we came across a small shack selling hamburgers. We sat there to eat one each and Donna and Darren walked up. They had been on the beach until Donna’s back became blistered from the fierce sun. Now they were going back to “Chancy”. They are both on the plump side and had resolved not to eat much on this holiday but the aroma and sight of our hamburgers weakened their determination and they ordered one each. We enjoyed the chat and finally left to get to the beach as Les and Rene had to get their return ticket on the ferry for tonight. As we had alighted from the bus we had met Simon and Anncilla, now we saw them yet again. Simon said that he would pick us up and bring us to Scarborough in about half an hour. We walked to the beach where it was much the best one we had seen here.
A young chap (another Simon) spoke to us when we admired his shack from which he sold batik and woodcarvings. It was marvellous with interesting and distinctive woodcarvings on all the uprights and whenever they lent themselves with the natural shapes of the timber framing.
On the way back, Simon dropped Anncilla and ten minutes later picked up another pretty girl, Tracey. Then we dropped Les and Rene in town in order that they could pick up their return ticket and it was not until this point that we found there was no ferry operating on Saturdays.
I ran Tracey and Simon to “Chancy” and had a couple of beers with Gordon whilst the others chatted outside. Then I collected Donna and Darren from shore too.
Finally Les and Rene put in an appearance and told me about the ferry. I was livid to think that those damned Coastguards had got me to get out of the ferry’s way when there was not one running today!
I was very touched when they handed me a bottle of scotch for giving them the outing to Tobago. It was very kind and must have bit deeply into their pockets.
During our absence, two other boats had departed and there was a very good anchoring spot in the middle of the anchoring area. We raised our pick and dropped it here. Now, no matter from which direction the winds comes, we should be able to swing without fear of striking any object attached to the land or another vessel.
Dusk was now falling and I set about preparing dinner. Moussaka.
End of Saturday 14th February 1998
