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Seventh day, Thursday May 27, Salt Whistle Bay, Mayreau:

We were up at 7am eagerly awaiting our provisions and Mister Quality did not disappoint. He arrived as if by cue with a heavy loaf of warm banana bread steaming up its plastic bag ($35EC) and a 10 lb bag of solidly frozen ice cubes ($30EC). You just can’t beat the boat vendors for convenience! We paid him and raced below to slice up the bread. It was wonderful, and I’m surprised there was any left, but the four of us could not eat it all. Over coffee in the cockpit, Lisa with her eagle-like eyes counted mast-tops in Salt Whistle Bay, over 2 miles away, and declared that there were 9, or maybe10 boats anchored there. It was time to leave the Tobago Cays!

Wind Dancer weighed anchor at 8:45am and with Woody at the helm we traversed the anchorage north and exit around the north end of Petit Rameau. I prefer this to shooting the gap between PB and PR, but one must be cautious taking this route out. If you head directly for Catholic Island from the north side of PR, you will run directly over two shoals of approximately 5 foot depth. First you must head west towards Ten-Shilling Hill on Mayreau until you intersect a bearing of 323M to Catholic Island, and only then you can turn north-west. Rounding PR, we popped the big jib out into the balmy trade winds and motorsailed the calm waters down to the north end of Mayreau. The journey was short and sweet.

Soon we were furling the jib again, and arrived in Salt Whistle Bay about 45 minutes after our start. We were rewarded with a vacant front row spot and anchored in about 12 feet of water not far off the dock. It could not have been more ideal. In 27 years of cruising, this is one of the most beautiful anchorages I’ve ever had the pleasure to drop the hook in. Keen for immediate adventure, we left the dingy motor on the aft railing and simply paddled ashore, pulled the dingy up on the beach and tied it to a palm tree.

The sand was white, soft, and beautiful. There was little to no surf, and the water was cool and clear. Palm trees shade the beach, but let just the right amount of sun in. I was drawn to the clear water like a magnet and jumped in and dog-paddled around in sheer delight. It’s the kind of place you fall in love with immediately. I must go back.

Thirst for adventure is relentless and we soon found ourselves crossing the sandy isthmus to the east shore and found a rocky beach to the north, a wide expanse of sandy beach to the south, and a sweeping view a barrier reef and the Tobago Cays beyond. Here we explored and took pictures, splashing our feet in the cool water and searching for sea glass and other small treasures. Woody and Lisa made a bee-line far, far down the beach, but Barb and I were content to slowly wander and investigate anything that caught our eye. There were two huge logs on the beach. One encrusted with thousands of barnacles and the other weathered and cracked. I spend some time photographing both. In the rocks among vibrant blue tatters of heavy poly line we found a huge length of thick stainless wire rope glinting in the sun, the kind that shrouds are made of, and we speculated about the frightful events that may have lead to it arriving on this beach.

Soon the familiar pangs of hunger crept in and we all reassembled on the western beach at about the same time, somehow by magic; and paddled back out to Wind Dancer for BLT sandwiches and chips washed down by Hairoun beer in the shade of the wide blue bimini.

After lunch we decided to walk up to the settlement, but in retrospect a Taxi would have been smarter. Curtis can be raised on VHF 16 or by calling 784-527-8391. The noon day tropical sun baked us mercilessly on our long steep hike up to the top, and we took advantage of every small piece of shade offered to stop, rest, and drink from the 1.5 liter bottle of water in the pack. The island was parched and brown, in sharp contrast to St. Vincent, and the coming rainy season was sorely needed. As best I can tell it’s about 250 vertical feet up to the top. We were all drenched in sweat and two quarts low by the time we crested the hill at the schoolhouse, where a contingent of elementarily school children were playing cricket during recess. Their teacher bowled to the batsmen, and the rest of the kids were spread out in a wide circle around the centerline of the pitch. We watched them play from the shade of a large tree for a few minutes before pressing on into town.

Woody and Lisa seemed keen to explore the town some more and we took a circling route to the east, down, and then back west. The variety of structures was amazing… from tiny wood tin-roofed shacks and tents, to more opulent two story stone homes with terracotta roofs. Large black plastic cisterns, about 4 feet in diameter and 8 feet tall, were everywhere. There is no natural fresh water on Mayreau, nor is there desalination, so residents must collect everything they need from the rain. It has only been in the last 5 years that the residents have had public electricity. I soon developed a healthy respect for the gentle but hardy people that were scratching out a living on this mountaintop. As difficult as I know life must be there, everyone we talked to had a sense of peace and belonging about them, and seemed to be truly happy. I believe there’s a lesson here for all of us.

Barb and I spotted a bar on the hilltop, and that was it for us. We made a beeline for it, while Lisa and Woody explored the town some more, but it wasn’t long before they joined us for a cool refreshing coke on ice and the ever-present Hairoun beer. After some re-hydration we walked down the hill a ways in search of an open store to buy sugar and clothespins, but every step down was going to tiring coming back up, so Woody and Lisa split off in search of the store, and Barb and I started slowly back up the hill. It wasn’t long before thirst again got the better of us, and we stopped in Righteous Robert’s bar for another Hairoun. After we sat down Righteous himself came out of the back and we shook hands and started talking. We spied Woody and Lisa coming back up the hill and soon we were all getting a drinking tour of the Bar, including the private penthouse party room up on the next level that was still under construction. It was obvious that Righteous takes great pride in what he has built over the years, and given the limited resources of the island I find it downright amazing.

Soon it was time to leave, so re-hydrated and pain-free we started the long walk back down the hill to Salt Whistle bay. On the way down we met Righteous’ wife who was walking back up the hill from the restaurant. She stopped to talked briefly, everyone is so pleasant!, but she had to press on because she was on the way to get on the ferry… meaning she was going to walk all the way up the mountain and all the way back down again. That will keep you in shape!

Finally back on board I collapsed in the cockpit of Wind Dancer thinking I was done for the day, but Lisa has the energy and disposition of a two year old Golden retriever, and with her infectious mood she soon had me talked into dragging our snorkel gear over to the windward beach in search of fish. Back in the dingy and paddle to shore. We swam WAY out in search of a good reef, but sadly didn’t find much to look at. We did make it out to small breaking waves that we watched break over the reef from underwater and over our heads which was pretty cool. Then we spotted Woody on the beach and it was another race to see who could make it back to the beach first, and she beat me again. Woody had walked back out to the end of the windward beach with a knife to collect some fishing floats for his Tiki bar back home from a huge net that had washed up.

Then it was back in the dingy to Wind Dancer for some pre-dinner drinks, and then back in the dingy and to the beach (getting tired of paddling) at 7:30pm for dinner at the Salt Whistle Bay Club. Each dinner party gets their own table in a small private stone cabana with a palm roof. Very cozy. I wish I could remember what I ordered, but that brain cell is toast. I do remember that all of the food was excellent. The no-see-ums were there, but I had the forethought to bring some OFF towelettes and this kept them at bay.

What a long, tiring, and thoroughly enjoyable day! Nobody stayed awake for long after returning to Wind Dancer, and I was soon in the bunk dreaming of snorkeling at Mopian.

Welcome sign at Salt Whistle Bay



Salt Whistle Bay from Wind Dancer - Anchored about 100yds off the dock.



Salt Whistle Bay from The SWB Club. Wind Dancer is to the right of Lisa.



Lisa and Woody paddling the dingy.



Barb and Lisa check out the wares at the vendor right off the dock.
I bought a locally carved gourd with a whale, turtle, and dolphin on it.



Flotsam (or jetsam) among rocks and coral at the west shore beach.


Evening falls on the Isthmus. This is perhaps my favorite picture of the trip.


Sunset at Salt Whistle Bay. The best one of the trip.