We seldom see the Grenada police, but the coast guard is
another matter. Lately we had many encounters with them and I am impressed.
Their main center in the south is at the Prickly Bay, next to the Spice Isle
Marina, where their various size powerful boats are stored.
The first time we
saw them in action, we were lazily lying on our front trampoline, reading and
looking around. A medium sized boat came near a mono-hull anchored almost in
front of us, which was owned by an older gentleman. The boat, Santa Lucia, had
a prominent Norway flag, and some other smaller flags, which we discerned one of
them to be Spanish, though not the others.
Anyway, two islander coast guards called out to Santa Lucia,
whose door was open. When they could not get an answer, they had a discussion
with another boat close-by, and left. We were kind of curious, and started to
examine Santa Lucia. Al noticed that the dinghy was tied at the back, but its
engine was dismounted and taken to the boat. Al thought that the owner was
probably getting ready to move away. We wondered why the coast guard would be interested
in that man, whom we had seen puttering around the boat alone and having drinks
with friends. About half an hour later the coast guards returned. One of them
started snorkeling and diving around Santa Lucia, and quit after half an hour.
The boat left, and came back with two scuba divers this time. They dived and
searched the waters for an hour more, but did not seem to find anything. In the
meantime, an elderly couple came to Santa Lucia, looking around and straightening
the inside of the boat, I presume. They stayed at the boat for several hours,
and left in the evening, after locking the doors and hatches. We learned
afterwards that the body of the owner was found a few days later, along the
east cost of the bay. Poor soul, he must have fallen into the water, dead or
alive, sometime in the morning. Unfortunately we were out shopping that
morning, otherwise we would have seen the incident, and maybe could have
helped? I really felt for the poor man; although he was alone, he had good
friends apparently, who must have alerted the coast guard, and looked after his
property after he was gone. The next day, coast guard came back pulled Santa
Lucia into their compound, awaiting the owner’s next of kin I suppose.
Then we spent two nights at the Moliniere Point, tied to a
mooring ball, and got a visit from the coast guard. The nice islander guard
reminded us that that area was marine protected, and charged some money for the
ball. Al told him that it was our third time there, but nobody had come before
to collect any fees. He did not comment. He also did not show up the next day,
so the fee was for the whole week- end. (They think they are protecting the
area, which is the outer portion of the bay, housing RUBIS oil storage
facility. The morning we were about to leave, an oil tanker came to the bay,
and anchored. While I was releasing the moor lines, I noticed the oil floating
on the surface of the sea. The tanker of course was the culprit, out of reach
of the law!)
We came back to Belmont and anchored close to an old
mono-hull called Twostep II. We know the name, the first boat of a Canadian couple,
the Shard s who went around the world and published their experienced in the boating
magazines, books and videos. I had read that they had sold Twostep and got a
bigger boat made to their specifications.
We saw the owner, another solitary elderly man, puttering
around on his own, and going around in his wooden dinghy, a smaller version of
the standard rowing boat. I could not ascertain if he had bought the boat from the
Shard s.
Next morning after breakfast Al looked up and saw that
Twostep was too close next to us. The wind was blowing really hard all night,
and his anchor had dragged. His dinghy, which was tied to his back, was caught
in our anchor snubber, and pulling the boat towards us. Al immediately asked me
to bring the boat hook to untangle the dinghy, and afterwards jumped into our
dinghy to help the man. He profusely apologized, indicating that his engine was
somehow not starting. We assured him that it was not his fault, but it was kind
of lucky that he stopped when he was caught up with us. Al pushed him with our
dinghy, a safe distance away from us, and dropped his second anchor to get him
stop there. After that day, we greeted each other while passing. The other day
Al saw the coast guard coming to his boat and taking him somewhere. Al
speculated that he must have asked for their help, and maybe they took him to a
hospital or something. His boat was deserted for a while, although his dinghy disappeared
and reappeared several times, but he was not anywhere to be seen. Last night
his boat was quite close to us again, but downwind from us, and I could not detect
any lights, although his hatches and door was open. This morning his boat looked
quite a distance from us, then we noticed that coast guard had come and pulled
Twostep II to a mooring ball, and tying it. The anchor must have dragged again,
and the coast guard was there in no time!
Our funniest encounter with the coast guard involved a young
man on a catamaran. While we were coming into Belmont the other day, we passed
by the catamaran, and saw that the young man was doing something at the
foredeck, buck naked in broad daylight. Al exclaimed and I looked, not for long
mind you. I guessed that he was European; they do not mind being nude on water,
neither do we. Anyway, we saw the man (wearing shorts) in his dinghy, having a
heated discussion with a couple on a mono-hull. Then he raised one of his oars like
a weapon, and started shouting for a while, then went back to his catamaran. I
saw the lady of the mono-hull jumping in her dinghy, and whizzing by towards St
George’s bay. A while later the mono-hull started to prepare to leave. At the same time the Coast Guard vessel came
to the anchorage slowly sailing around and checking out the boats there, especially
the catamarans, ours included. Then they sailed away towards Grande Anse. The lady on the mono-hull suddenly jumped in
her dinghy and rushed after the Coast Guard vessel. A minute later the coast
guard approached the catamaran with the nude guy, having its sirens on, and boarded
his boat. The guy rushed inside to put on his shorts, and came out to answer
questions (I presume). He went to the coast guard boat, then came back and
brought out a rectangular bag (his boat papers probably), and was taken by the
guard to Carenage, St George’s. We wondered if the coast guard was responding
to a complaint from the lady; however their response was swift and forceful.
later, they brought the naked guy back after a couple of hours. The problem was
not major it seems, but at least some form of law enforcement was made known to
the guy. A good thing!
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