Contributing Source - Ron Reil

On the 7th of January, 1973, Fitz and I sailed Sea Dart into the anchorage in Bequia, W.I. We had come across the hundred mile crossing from Barbados, sailed around the north end of St. Vincent, and south along the lee side of the island. We spent one very uneasy night and day in Kingstown, the locals were very hostile to Americans, and then we sailed south across the Bequia channel to Bequia harbor. This was a world apart from St. Vincent. The locals were very friendly, and it was quickly apparent that we would call this little island home for a couple of months while we explored the southern islands.

The anchorage was wonderful. There was a beautiful, semi-secluded beach in the lower bay, Princess Margaret Beach, that offered protection as well as good skin diving. That was important since almost all our food came from the sea. I dove every afternoon to get our fish, lobster, or conch for dinner. Fitz prepared it with some of our ultra cheap rice which we had provisioned the boat with in Barbados. We had paid only $0.03/pound BWI for it. That was about 1 1/2 cent a pound US currency! It was crude but was wholesome. Once the trash was sifted out, the stones, etc., removed, it looked fine, even if it did smell like a fart when we cooked it. The smell soon earned it the name of "fart rice" aboard Dart.

The location had other merit as well. There were several nice "bars" available. One very nice one called the "Frangipani" was a favorite, even if it was a little expensive for yachtsmen on a $0.60 a day budget. Also, the bay was full of yachts at that time of year waiting for fair winds to sail to the Galapagos Islands after they traversed the Panama Canal. They would spend a month in Bequia before heading on to Panama. That month was full of parties and fun. Each night a different yacht would have a party on deck and everyone in the bay was invited. Sometimes the bigger yachts even had a steel band on deck. In the afternoon the yachtsman would row around the bay knocking on hulls to announce the party. The invitation always included the request to bring any musical instrument you might play. It was a wonderful time for everyone.

Fitz and I made the best of the island, exploring all parts of it on foot, barefoot at that. One wonderful place was a small bay called "Hope Bay" on the windward side of Bequia. The big surf breaking on the barrier reef offshore sent in waves that were perfect body surfing waves. We spent many hours enjoying the surf, and getting pounded into the sand when the ride didn't go right. We hiked over with Mary and George off "Sugar Creek", a beautiful double ender, and four other folks off of two Swedish yachts. It was interesting how the customs of Europe differ from ours. When it came time to change into swimming suits, the Swedish men and women just stripped down right there on the spot and changed, we followed their example, and that was that. I should add that the Swedish girls were very attractive.

There were several other interesting yachts in the bay too. Marty and Charlie Pit were sailing the very fine 55 foot yacht "Santana", which had belonged to Humphrey Bogart. Santana had almost been taken by the same giant surf in Barbados that almost claimed Dart. I had a wonderful evening on the yacht "Tiki", a 105 foot schooner that really put on a big party one night. One afternoon Simon Bridger off of the yacht "Circe" came over to ask for my help to rescue his anchor. It was fouled in 40-50 foot deep water, and he was told I was the only diver in the bay that could probably help him. After several warm up dives I free dove and managed to free the badly tangled anchor. When I went aboard Circe afterward, I discovered that Circe belonged to Tom Chamberlain, who had built her and now lived in Newport, Oregon. I knew Tom, so it was a warm reception I received on the Circe.

Life in the bay was not without its surprises and adventure. We had a storm that lasted over 24 hours, starting on the 18 of January, that had the entire bay taking full gale precautions. I set out a second anchor, my big danforth, and was very glad I did so when the winds increased to over 50 knots that night. Several big yachts drug anchor and ended up running their engines to try to hold against the winds while they desperately tried to get the hook to stick. There was action everywhere in the bay, as yachts in line with the dragging boats attempted to move, or fend off, the oncoming craft. I was fortunate to be out of the way, and only suffered loss of sleep, while I kept checking my anchor bearings to detect any slippage on my anchor system. We did have one big trimiran slide by within a few feet of us, but that was early in the storm when it was still daylight. We had several such storms while anchored in Bequia.

All in all, Bequia was a wonderful place to call home, for a time. There are many other stories to be told about this wonderful place, including the invitation I received to go whaling with the local whalers in the old "Nantucket sleigh ride" style whaling boats. I believe they were the only remaining whalers in the world still whaling in that tradition, handed down from their Yankee whaler forefathers who had jumped ship on the beautiful little island. Their heritage was apparent in the "old English" dialect that they spoke.

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