Along Trinidad's North Coast

Not far from the Orange Suspension Bridge over the Marianne River is the Laguna Mar Beach Hotel, owned and operated by 82-year-old Gottfried Franz Zollna, aka “Fred”. The Cocos Hut restaurant is the only restaurant in Blanchisseuse and since it was time for lunch, we stopped. Blanchisseuse, by the way, translates to washerwoman and was so named because the local women did their laundry in the Marianne River.

The restaurant is located in a converted cocoa drying house. It's a pleasant venue with outdoor tables on a covered veranda, sheltered from the street by lush flowers and shrubs. Butterflies and birds flitted about as we drank cold beers and rum punch and made our choices from the menu. The lunch itself was nothing special, but Fred was a charmer. We spent a good portion of our lunchtime chatting with him about his colorful life from post-war East Germany to Canada to California to the US Marine Corps to Trinidad.

As planned, we made several stops on the return trip. The first stop was at the ill-kept Our Lady of Mount Carmel cemetery. Overlooking the Caribbean, it was a beautiful spot, but the gravestones were overgrown and crumbling.

We stopped at Our Lady of Mount Carmel church as well, a few miles up the road. It was a small, picturesque little country church with two bronze bells out front ready to beckon parishioners to Mass.

Simple, but lovely, the inside of the church was still decorated for Easter.

The best stop, however, was at Las Cuevas Beach. Las Cuevas, the caves in Spanish, was busy, but the wide expanse of beach accommodated everyone comfortably. The caves along the beach afforded great little nooks and crannies for people to seek shelter from the sun and set up their picnics.

As always, we were looking for the sameness in people as well as the differences. We observed parents carefully watching their children on the beach. Children made sand castles and played in the surf. Universally, covering up your brother with mud has always been a particularly enjoyable beachfront pastime.

We headed back down the serpentine road to Port of Spain and to Chaguaramas. Our friends on Wind Wanderer were leaving to head back to Australia and we wanted to wish them farewell.

Tomorrow we head out for five days of touring Trinidad. We're all packed and ready to go. Come along with us.

Arrival, Earthquake & the North Coast

Lin's flight arrived early, believe it or not, at the Piarco International Airport and we were there waiting to greet her. We whisked her away as fast as we could whisk in late afternoon traffic and before you know we were sitting comfortably in her little apartment on the waterfront at Power Boats, sipping wine and unwinding. Dinner next door at Sails was pleasant with a light early evening breeze that followed a short, but cooling downpour earlier. Mr. Melody, the evening's entertainment, “kareoke-d” old BeeGee songs and the greatest hits of the 70s & 80s. We enjoyed dinner and left before he came to our table with his microphone. We were up early the next morning and, while David chatted with Rawle about his day's work plan for Nine of Cups, I headed down to Lin's for a morning cuppa. We sat on the deck outside her apartment, chatting and planning the day when the deck suddenly started to vibrate and sway. We thought, perhaps, somebody heavy was coming up the stairs, but no, there was no one. Then, it happened again. An earthquake … a tremor really … to start Lin's first day of vacation in Trinidad. We found out later it was centered off the coast of Venezuela and registered 5.7 on the Richter scale. No damage done.

Trembling finished, we headed off for points along Trinidad's North Coast. Lin had brought a Rough Guide to Trinidad and Tobago with her and it provided a good resource for things to see and do along the route. We climbed up, up, up across the Northern Range along a circuitous, switch-backed, narrow road that seemed barely wide enough for one car, never mind two way traffic. Deep ditches lined one side of the road, perhaps handling run-off during the rainy season. The other side of the road was a steep drop-off to the abyss below with guard rails and curbs sometimes in place. Drivers are crazy here. They speed, tailgate and pass mercilessly. After a rather exciting drive, we came to the lookout at the top which provided outstanding views of the Caribbean Sea below.

A few vendors were selling sweets and we chose some to try. Our favorite was chip-chips … a dried coconut and brown sugar concoction that was sweet enough to last for a month. The spiced cherries and mangos we sampled were definitely not to our liking and after a gingery taste, they were discarded in the nearest trash bin.

We continued along the North Coast Road, the road descending steeply now to sea level. High cliffs gave way to thick foliage. We saw teak and old banana trees reminiscent of the plantations that once dominated the area. Stands of bamboo arched over the road. We caught brief glimpses of the sea and finally white sand beaches replaced the thick foliage and rocky coast. Spindly coconut palms dotted the shore and we were in Maracas Bay, one of the more popular beaches on the island.

We found the Maracas Bay Village to be more interesting than the main beach which was quite crowded with beach-goers, vendors and take-away joints, despite the fact it was a weekday. The village beach, though smaller, was picturesque with its brightly colored fishing boats and life guard shack.

A gazebo, apparently a new addition, adorned the pier and seemed to be the meeting place for young people. People fished off the end of the pier.

We walked barefoot in the sand along the beach, stepping over mooring lines that moved higher and lower with the surge. A committee of vultures (yup, that's the right collective for vultures) milled around the fishing boats, scarfing up old fish guts and whatever else they could scavenge.

We continued on the coast past several more beaches and through tiny towns, around sharp corners and over one lane bridges that forded the many small rivers and streams in the area.

Our destination was the Orange Suspension Bridge across the Marianne River at the end of the road in Blanchisseuse (Blahn-she-shers). We'd seen several pictures of the century-old bridge and thought it would be a great photo opp. Our plan after the bridge was to backtrack, stopping at places of interest we'd missed on the journey out. Lin's Rough Guide was a couple of years old and did not reflect the fact that the bridge had been condemned and replaced in 2012. The old bridge was left in place as a pedestrian bridge and historical site, but was not particularly photogenic despite its history. We took pics anyway.

Join us tomorrow as we backtrack along the North Coast Road, have lunch with an 82-year old German/American ex-pat and cavort in the Caribbean Sea at Las Cuevas Beach.

Back to Bartica and On to Trinidad

We splurged and took a taxi for the hour-plus long ride from Georgetown to the Parika Stelling where we caught a river taxi back to Bartica. We had thought we'd take a much cheaper mini-bus, but with luggage, full backpacks and some provisions, the thought of cramming into the mini-bus on a sweltering, muggy day was not appealing. When we arrived at the stelling, we were quickly ushered to a Bartica-bound river taxi … a marine version of the mini-bus with 30 people, their luggage and freight aboard. It was stifling.

Getting aboard, which included stepping from the old wharf onto the edge of a plank and then steeply down onto the bow of the rocking boat while negotiating luggage and backpacks, was no easy feat. The river taxis have no set schedule; they leave when they're full. We waited nearly an hour in our cramped quarters with backpacks on our laps and a suitcase wedged between our legs. I remembered I should have peed before I climbed aboard.

The boat finally left for Bartica. The ride was fast and bumpy. Wide, low windows provided relief from the stuffiness and heat, but offered no protection from being splashed.

An hour later, Mike from Hurakabra was waiting for us and helped us ferry our gear from the river taxi to the resort launch. Mike waited while we checked out with Customs and Immigration and got a few last minute provisions to use up the balance of our Guyanese dollars. Then we were back at Hurakabra aboard Cups and making plans for our next day's departure.

Despite what seemed a rush, we were getting antsy to leave. We really enjoyed Guyana, but the clock was ticking to get Cups to Trinidad. In the morning, we did last minute internet ashore, said our farewells to Mike and crew, hoisted the dinghy and we were off with the noonday ebbing tide, following our track back down the long and winding Essequibo River.

A short-lived 30-knot headwind and a torrential downpour was our send-off within minutes of our departure from Hurakabra, but it soon calmed and cleared. The ebbing tide did not afford us a long enough window to negotiate the entire 50nm downriver run. We stopped for the night just off Fort Island, thinking we'd visit the island in the morning. Our plans were thwarted by heavy morning rains. We caught the early afternoon tide once again, but made it only 15 miles before the afternoon headwinds beat us back. Getting down the Essequibo was proving more difficult than getting upriver. We had 20 knot head winds and with the wind against the current, the waves were short and choppy, making it slow going. Despite the help of the ebbing current, it took us two days to get down the river.

We anchored off Leguan Island in order to minimize our morning run to the Essequibo's mouth.   Not to worry …  the winds were predicted to be better and we preferred to negotiate the endless fishing nets in the daylight. Early on the third day, we hauled anchor with a bright crescent moon and a twinkling morning star looking down on us. It's good we started early. A Keystone Cops drama unfolded as I worked at removing sticky, thick, brown mud and clay from the chain and anchor. I had mud spattered everywhere...on me, on the deck and still some residual on the chain.  It took nearly 45 minutes to wash down and finally get underway.

Three hours later, we broke away from the brown Essequibo and we were back in  Atlantic, en route to Trinidad. The sky was blue, the wind was ENE at 15 knots and the current favored us. Once again, we're on our way. Come sail with us!