Trinidad's Wild Northeast Coast

When we sailed along Trinidad's east coast last November, we sailed far offshore because of 1) the great number of oil platforms and associated ship traffic and 2) pirate warnings. We saw oil platforms and ships in the distance and luckily no pirates. We had heard, however, that the east coast was more remote and thus less traveled. For our land tour, this appealed to our “off the beaten track” attitude, so we booked in at one of the only resorts in the area for a couple of nights. Well, the hotel sucked, but the northeast area lived up to its wild reputation.

I won't go into too much detail on the Salybia Nature Resort other than to say, we got tired of complaining. Some of this can be chocked up to first world expectations in a third world country, but most of it was sheer negligence. In all fairness, the grounds were lovely and the pool was clean with a waterfall that worked intermittently. Most importantly, there was a swim-up bar which helped us forget how miserable the room was. The room was indeed awful … musty and ill-kept with lots of things broken or non-functioning, paint peeling and stained bathroom fixtures. A very tacky 3D picture of a lion and cub adorned the walls. The staff ranged from okay to marginal to surly. Hospitality was definitely not in their vocabulary. We never figured out why it was considered a “nature” resort because it certainly wasn't. Enough said.

It was the beginning of the leatherback turtle egg-laying season on this coast. Only night visits to the beach with permits and guides are allowed. We tried unsuccessfully to make reservations while at our hotel. We drove to the nearby Matura Beach to see what we could see ... which turned out to be absolutely nothing. The tourism infrastructure on this side of the island is minimal. Phone numbers and contact information are out of date and we were at a loss as to how to arrange for the tour and permit.

The coast in this area is rocky with big Atlantic swells crashing on the craggy shore. We drove up to Toco on the extreme northeast tip of the island to take a look at the Galera Point Lighthouse. Built in 1897, the actual lighthouse, surrounded by a small park and picnic area , was not accessible to tourists, but we'd seen it do its job when we passed by sea last autumn.

A couple of local cops were on the scene and we chatted with them amicably. They proudly pointed out that this was the point where the Atlantic Ocean met the Caribbean Sea.

They recommended the nearby Toco Beach for a dip. We beachcombed for awhile, collecting sea glass and interesting colored stones, but no shells were found.

We made our way further east along the rough route to Gran Riviere which is considered a key turtle-watching spot. Once again, narrow roads, potholes and fast drivers made for an interesting ride. We crossed several single vehicle, plank bridges and held our collective breaths as the planks strained and creaked under our weight.

Once in Gran Riviere, we found the permit office closed with no contact information available. A long trip for nothing. We asked around, but the few people we saw were unable to offer any information. We offset our disappointment with a cold beer and a light lunch at the small, but pleasant, Acajou Restaurant.

Once again, we retraced our route and ended up back at the hotel. Though the room was the pits, the pool was lovely. Previously it was crowded with daytrippers, not a lounge nor beach chair to be found. Today, however, it was nearly empty and we lounged and cooled off and swam up to the bar for pina coladas. Yum! We played cards and hung out till dinner. Dinner was ordinary with entertainment by Sir Natra, a Frank Sinatra lounge singer. I Did It My Way ... with a calypso flair.

The clock was ticking. We needed to head back to the west coast, regretfully without having seen the leatherbacks. Maybe next time. We're off to see the scarlet ibis of the Caroni Swamp tomorrow. Come on along.

The Blue View - Working in d' Trini Style

One of the tasks we wanted to accomplish here was to address some core de-lamination problems in the bulwarks of Nine of Cups. This involved cutting away sections of the fiberglass sheer stripe, removing the old core, replacing it with new marine plywood, embedding everything in epoxy, and re-attaching the fiberglass outer layer. Once this was all done, a layer or two of glass cloth would be applied, then the entire area would be faired and repainted. I did the same to several sections of the deck where our old teak decks had caused de-lamination of the deck core, and while the process took longer than I expected, the end result was a deck that was stronger than new. Since we were on a tight timetable, I thought I'd enlist the help of the Trini guy who had done such a good job painting our hull. To avoid any embarrassment, l'll call him Dewie.

Working with Dewie is both endearing and annoying. To begin with, he repeats everything at least three times, followed by "You unda stand me captn? You hear what ahm sayin?". These last two sentences will be repeated until I verbally acknowledge that I have, indeed, heard and understood him. Now in his defense, he is used to working with us old cruisers. Many of us are hard of hearing and aren't used to the Trini dialect, (nor do they always understand our accents and idioms for that matter) so if something important is being communicated, it is best to make sure everything is being understood. Dewie carries this to the extreme, however. "We work togetta, eh captn... it's easier to clap wit two hands than one. You unda stand me captn? You hear what l'm sayin?" Pause. "You unda stand me captn? You hear what l'm sayin?" . This will be repeated until I respond enthusiastically. If my response is less than enthusiastic, he will inform me that "It a lot easier to work wit someone who enjoy his work and not be in a foul mood all d' time".

Dewie also likes to share his Trini knowledge with me. Some of his tips and "tricks" are well worth knowing. I've learned a lot from the various tradesmen I've encountered around the world, and I try to be open minded and receptive to new ideas. Dewie must think I'm the village idiot, however, and finds it necessary to explain how he does the simplest tasks. When we were setting up a scaffolding to work on the sheer stripe, we needed to round up some additional planks. Dewie informed me that "the captn on dat catamaran is gone for a long time - we can use his planks. Let me show you d' trick for carrying dem. You pick up one end and I pick up d' otter end and we carry it just so. You see my trick? You unda stand me captn? You hear what l'm sayin?" Now if I were to foolishly respond "gee whiz - that is clever...I thought we'd put the planks between our legs and hop over to Cups", all I'd hear for the next hour would be his muttering "It sure is hard working wit someone who always be in d' foul mood."

Dewie was used to working with epoxy, but I knew he had never replaced the core of a deck before. It was important to him that he didn't appear to lack knowledge on the subject, however. "I done dis work plenty of times, captn, but everybody does it diff'rent. How do you like ta do it?". So I explained 'how I like ta do it'. As we were cutting the plywood to fit into the first section of the sheer stripe, I was numbering each piece of wood to make it easier to figure out which piece of ply went where. Dewie insisted this wasn't necessary - "I can figure dis out jus fine when we gluing dem in", so I stopped numbering them. When it was time to place each piece of ply, we had a few miscues, and while we eventually got everything in its place, it took longer than necessary. The next day, Dewie told me he had a little trick to show me. "We should number each piece of timber like so. Dis is how we do it in Trinidad. Dat way, it's easy to figure it out when it time to glue the timbers in. You unda stand mah trick captn? ..." I wish I had thought of that.

Early on it the process, when we were cutting and grinding the old fiberglass, Dewie came attired in a full Tyvec suit and a respirator. I commented on how I was happy to see he took his health seriously. He said "Yah captn, dat fiberglass is nasty stuff. I try not to bree'd it or any of dem bad chemicals. Mey'be I live to be as old as you, skippah!". I think he was smiling inside his respirator.

Working with Dewie really has been fun and a positive experience. He works hard, always shows up when he says he will, and his work is good, which is more than I can say about most of the guys I've worked with in dozens of other places. His paint work was first rate and we were quite surprised to find it all done on our return to Trini.

Now, if only I can keep from being in d' foul mood all d' day...

More Asa Wright & Then to the East Coast

We woke early to the distinctive call of oropendolas. Their nests, suspended from a tree just outside our door, hung precariously and swung gently in the morning breeze. Lizards crossed our path as we made our way down to the main lodge just after dawn. Bird song filled the air. Flowers bloomed profusely and the scent was a sweet morning wake-me-up.

We were looking forward to our morning cuppa and an early morning feathered-friend extravaganza. We were not disappointed on either count. Oh, my … I wish I could put into words the thrill of seeing so many beautiful birds flitting about so closely. We could hear the high-pitched squeak of the hummingbirds and feel the whir of their wings as they dove into the nectar feeders for breakfast. I want to reiterate here that we were never serious bird-watchers in the past. It's only since we've lived aboard the boat that we've developed an interest. Being this close to them, brings out the twitcher in everyone.

We observed for more than our hour, alternating a sip of tea and a click of the camera, until the breakfast gong chimed. We likened the gong to a Pavlovian response as all the twitchers filed obediently into breakfast (perhaps some were salivating, we didn't notice). The talk at the communal tables was all bird talk until they learned we'd just sailed around the world … and then they were interested in birds we'd seen during our travels.

We were invited for a guided morning walk on the Discovery Trail. There were just the three of us and Natalie was a knowledgeable, pleasant guide. She pointed out flora as well as fauna. It was hot and tropical rain forest steamy. Cicadas buzzed. We spotted several birds and heard the extremely loud and vocal bellbird long before we saw him. He did, indeed, sound like a bell.

There were several huge anthills in our travels … leaf cutter ants. We watched them for a bit as they did their thing. Industrious little fellows, Natalie told us this hill served just one queen, was estimated to be 12 years old and went 30 feet deep.

We spotted a hummingbird nest with mama snuggled tightly into place. A wonder she fit!

Then the tour was over, it was time to check out and we reluctantly left Asa Wright. We retraced our serpentine route down the hillside and back to Eastern Main Road. The road narrowed and became rougher the further east we traveled. David swerved back and forth avoiding major potholes. In some cases, the road disappeared altogether with old, small signs warning about “landslip areas”. We finally left the steamy inland and reached Trinidad's rocky east coast.

We stopped en route when we saw a “Shark Oil and Honey” shack. Quite the combo and we were curious! Lin negotiated a local honey purchase. We passed on the shark oil and drove on.

We finally arrived at Salybia Nature Resort, our big splurge for two nights. From the outside, it appeared to be heavenly … but looks can be deceiving.