Al arranged Francis to pick us up to go to the airport, to wait for the two young ladies. One of them, Aida is the daughter of our dear friends Christina and Bahadir. She lives in New York, USA; the other is her friend Carolina, who is based in Den Haag, Netherlands. They both work for the United Nations, and spend most of their time in war zones like Afghanistan, Darfur, Sudan etc., etc. They had worked together in the past, and wished to see each other for a mini vacation. All they wanted was a place warm to unwind and do nothing. Ruyam II looked as the perfect place, and we were delighted.
We went to the airport around the modified landing time, but ended up waiting more than an hour for their arrival. At last people started to trickle out, but Aida was not coming out. After some time Al s cell phone chimed. I heard him saying just Ruyam II and Port Louis. Apparently the Grenada Customs Officer asked Aida where she was going to stay. When she mentioned the boat, what is the name, where is it located? After some discussions with the officer, they were able to call Al.
It was a breeze after they came out. The airport is not too far from the marina, so we got there in no time, and they got settled.
The marina is quite modern, since it is operated by Camper & Nicholson, a well-known name in the field all around the world. The marina in Cesme, Turkey along with many others elsewhere belongs to them. The facilities are impressive; girls especially liked the showers, which I have to admit were the best I have ever seen so far.
Next morning we returned to our place to anchor. The water looks pristine, but could be a little polluted from the debris floating away from the shore east of us or from the boats near us. The sea so vast and the current so strong at all times, I hope the impurities were dissipating by the time they reached us.
I do my aquatic exercises every day (without immersing my face). The girls mostly did the same. I urged them not to swim far away from the boat because of the strong currents, and they complied, thankfully. All they wanted to do was to get a tan without burning, so they were careful with their sun blocks, but spent most of their time on the trampoline, chattering away mostly in Spanish. Aida learned Spanish from her mother, and Carolina is from Colombia.
After lazing around for a couple of days, they were ready for a bit of sailing, so we sailed up to Guayave (pronounced Guave), located at close to the northern edge of the west coast, but could not anchor there for lunch. We were headed for the small beach, close to the fishing boats at the Guayave bay, but another catamaran in front of us attracted our attention and told us by vigorous body language that we should not go there. We could not understand why, but we complied. This was our second unsuccessful attempt to get to Guayave, the first was in last April, when we had a rental car. We went very close, but could not find the detour for the short stretch in the main road washed away recently. I am determined to get there one day, rain or shine!
Aida helped me undertaking captain’s orders while under sail, and I hope they had a good time. Carolina was a bit ticked off when both Al and I insisted on everyone wearing PDF s (life jacket). She was only off the hook when she promised to sit at the cock-pit and not move around. Carolina is a fearless dare-devil, and looked at me with surprise when I exhibited caution. She made fun of me a lot. I guess the work she does for UN kind of requires a sense of adventure and brashness, but I think she brinks on the reckless side a bit. I was impressed by Aida’s more down to earth and reasonable courage coming from confidence in herself. I have to give it to them that they did not argue with me, and endured my misgivings politely, realizing that any shadow of a risk bothered me, due to my sense of responsibility. Anyway, we were back at our spot early in the afternoon, and we all jumped into the water immediately.