Chilling in the Tobago Cays

The Tobago Cays lay about halfway down (or up) the Grenadine island chain, and conveniently mark (more or less) the southern boundary of the hurricane belt, as far as U.S. insurance underwriters are concerned. If Dafne gets damaged in a "named" storm anywhere north of 12 degrees 40 minutes north we will not be covered. This line runs more or less right through this little group of islands. So, since June 1, the official start of the hurricane season, I keep waking up at night thinking, "Jesus, we have to get to the Tobago Cays."

The other big draw that pulls up to 200 boats into this labyrinth of uninhabited islets ringed by a horseshoe reef, is that this is one of the more beautiful, nature-filled anchorages in this part of the Caribbean and has been set aside as a marine nature reserve. Lucky for us July is the low season; so when we arrived the other day there were only 20 other boats, mostly huddled around the central island—Baradel—which has been marked out as a sea turtle sanctuary.

Since Dafne only draws 3'9" (1.15m) we are able to pull into shallow areas, such as this 6-foot-deep section of sand behind the reef.

After a ho-hum experience in Bequia, which I'd extolled endlessly as the perfect anchorage to the rest of the crew, I've learned my lesson about talking a place up. Beyond a few words about seeing turtles I didn't make a lot of promises to the girls. As a result, they were overjoyed when we anchored in six feet of water over pure sand, just behind the reef, and nearly bumped nose-to-nose with a turtle when we jumped over to check the anchor. And two large rays.

Pulling Laurel, our dinghy, up on Baradel Cay. A moment later a baby reef shark came swimming along just a foot from the beach. The girls were thrilled.

There's no internet signal in the Cays, so Lani and I purposefully unplugged for a short vacation to focus on more important things like snorkeling.

After a little experimentation in Bequia I've learned that we can generate about 10% more electricity if we push the boom to one side or another. As well after several promises, I finally made good on my commitment to rig up a swing. As a result, just hanging on Dafne proved plenty of fun for most of a day. 

Cleo, tentative at first, got into the swing of things quickly.

Stella, ecstatic, now asks me to rig this daily.

Ok, I loved it too.

We connected again with Natalie and Michael, a German couple aboard Marlin, and their kids Lena and Maya, who were both born on the boat. They were in a more serious school routine than us, but also took off three days to simply relax and enjoy the surroundings.

We picnicked one afternoon on picture-perfect Jamesby Island. Best nap ever under this palm.

Our kids get along marvelously with Lena and Maya. They spent three hours creating a whole world (incomprehensible to me) on the beach, with complex rules and roles—half drama, half game. Completely inspiring.

Petit Bateau nearby hosts a large population of iguanas (and no French children's clothes).

Starfruit—called Five Fingers in these islands—proves a tasty lunch for my friend.

We spent one afternoon snorkeling around Baradel, the turtle sanctuary, which was within swimming distance of Dafne. Within minutes we encountered three large hawksbill turtles in about ten feet of water. They were totally preoccupied with munching the sea bed and let us swim with them for over 40 minutes. Our underwater video camera has kicked the bucket after just a month of use; so, we didn't get any footage. But take my word, it was completely magical, especially when a turtle turns around to check you out and meet eye-to-eye. Encounters with wild animals like this leave me completely stunned.

A few days later Jade worked on a series of turtle sketches, which I hope she'll post here soon.

Queen of the Tobago Cays. Stand back.

Stella fell into a great rhythm.

We lucked into a full moon during our visit. Well, "luck" should perhaps be qualified. The moon raised the high tides more substantially over the reef, which made the evenings—in particular one night when it blew 22-knots constantly—rolly and rocky in the anchorage. But it made for beautiful cocktail hours when we could hang out on the trampoline and watch the moon rise.

A short dance performance on the bow. The reef is just perceptible in the background (breaking waves to the left), while moon is up on the right.