Lepers and Lighthouses - Pt. 1

Exploring Chacachacare Island, Trinidad

Chacachacare Island is only 7nm from Chaguaramas, but it's a whole different world here. It's calm and quiet (at least during the week) and it's steeped in local history. In the past, the island has been a tobacco and a cotton plantation, a whaling station, a leper colony and a base for US troops during WWII. We explored the island with friends when we visited Trinidad in 2002 . We decided to take time from our task schedule (read that Marcie convinced the captain) to make a couple of early morning forays ashore and explore again. Our memories being what they are, it was a whole new experience this time.

From Nine of Cups' deck, we could see a dilapidated building that time, weather and vandals have nearly destroyed. A decrepit, old cement jetty, reputedly from the old whaling station, is now unusable except by a squadron of perching pelicans.

We dinghied ashore, picked our way carefully through the detritus, rubble and mounds of litter to check it out more closely. There wasn't much to see. A faded sign informed us that the Dominican nuns had established a leper colony on Chacachacare Island in 1924. The adjacent map was so faded, it could not be read. Any existing paths were long since overgrown. Incidentally, this was the leper's island that Papillon had escaped to … the nuns turned him in to the officials.

Through the dense jungle foliage, remains of other old buildings could be seen. A stone staircase climbed to nowhere. Piles of debris, plastic bags and bottles were strewn everywhere … it wasn't a pretty sight. But the gravel beach was a great place for finding smooth, colored sea glass ...mostly green.

Across the bay, we could see three large buildings straddling the hillside. Even from a distance, they appeared abandoned. These were the main buildings of the leprosarium and included the nunnery, a hospital and a chapel. We dinghied over, tied up at a small, covered dock and climbed up a steep, but well-defined, shady, stone-step path to inspect the buildings. Small lizards rustled in the leaves and skittered across our path. It smelled damp and earthy.

These buildings were in sad shape, too, but better condition than those across the bay. Graffiti covered the walls... inside and out. A sign warned us of asbestos, but honestly, there was more chance of the building collapsing on us than of contracting asbestosis. Floorboards were torn out or rotted; doors yanked from their jambs; the foundation and walls were crumbling.

We proceeded up the path to the chapel. It was quite ornate, especially for nuns, with some of the gingerbreading still in situ. When we were here last time, there were still small shards of stained glass in the windows. This time, nothing was left.

The plastered walls of the apse were disintegrating and leaves covered the concrete floor, but the graceful roof structure remained intact.

The hospital was not easily accessible. What the jungle had not overtaken, vandals had. We gave it a pass.

Further up the path, in a quiet, fenced area overlooking the bay, was the nun's cemetery. Above each of the ten stone-covered graves, a small plaque showed the name, birth-death dates and place of birth for each Dominican nun who had died on the island.

It's interesting, but eerie walking around in a place like this. As we descended the path back to the dinghy dock, a vulture perched on the top of the roof and eyed us furtively. Time to head back to Cups. Our next foray will be climbing the steep road to the lighthouse on another part of the island. Take a breather, have a cuppa and join us tomorrow.

Chores on Chacachacare

Our anchorage here in Chacachacare is paradisaical. The water is blue and clear. We see fish swimming by and bigger fish chasing them. Birds, especially pelicans, swoop and soar (we ignore all the vultures). There's a turtle that makes a regular appearance near the boat. It's been hot and humid, but tolerable with a light breeze. If we could just sit in the cockpit and veg out, it would truly be paradise. But, of course, we live on a boat and we're hauling out soon and catching a flight back to Boston soon after that. The list of chores is long, and so, we've been hard at work each day. We typically rise with the sun, around 0530. That's when we wake up, have our coffee, write and decide on the day's activities. Any foray ashore is usually done as early as possible while it's cool and calm, and we place a time limit on how long we stay. Chores really do come first when the days to accomplish them are few.

We decided that several of the saloon and galley lockers are long overdue for painting. I've been methodically going through lockers, removing all contents, discarding all outdated, never-used and gnarly-looking items and scrubbing out the lockers. When I've finished each locker, David comes along with sandpaper and masking tape to prep for painting as soon as we haul out. He plans to apply three coats and then we'll let it hard cure while we're away.

In order to remove and stow all the locker contents, I cleaned out several crates and bins from the forward cabin (lots more discarding) to make room. All the crates are now lined up on the port settee with seat cushions piled above them. It's absolute bedlam … my least favorite state of affairs on Cups … but all will be clean and sparkling when we return. Of course, we'll have to stow all that stuff on the settee again, but that's a few months from now, so no worries.

All the filled-to-capacity trash bags, and the quantity of them keeps growing, are piled up in the cockpit at the moment (so they don't get sopped when it rains), ready to be discarded as soon as we get to Power Boats. I hope their trash bins are empty when we arrive because we'll be offloading at least 100 pounds of “stuff”. Just watch our waterline rise.

I've stowed gifts and souvenirs in various and sundry hidey-holes as we've sailed along and now I'm finding them and putting them in yet another crate in preparation for packing for the trip home … something I've given absolutely no thought to as yet. David has hauled out the duffel bags from under the forward bunk, but they're now hidden somewhere beneath the sail bags in the aft head.

Since we'll need winter clothes (what's that?) for our trip to Boston, I've gone through lockers and I've been airing out jackets, slacks and sweaters that we plan to take home. They smell like … well, they smell like “boat” … a mix of salt, sea, diesel and probably a bit of mold/mildew. They need airing, believe me!

Using up open and fresh stores has been a current preoccupation of mine. We have cheese, butter, eggs, bread, potatoes, onions ... beer/wine … that need to be consumed before we leave. All menus lately have taken these ingredients into consideration and we're making a dent in the larder (some items more than others ;-). So … what goes with a nearly outdated can of spinach (really? did I buy that? where?), outdated UHT cream, a chunk of cheddar, olives, two small potatoes and marinated squid? I'm sure it's a frittata or omelet or quiche of some sort … I'll figure it out at dinner time. Hmmm...maybe not the squid.

Do I sound as if I'm complaining? Perish the thought. There's work … 9 to 5, at the office or the shop, every day … and then there's “our” kind of work. Everything is getting done, but it's in Carib time. Clean out a locker...take a coffee break and watch the turtle for awhile, then clean out another locker. Repeat as necessary. Replace the bilge pump and get all sweaty and filthy … take a cool swim and wash off. Find all the souvenirs and stuff we want to take home (it's like a scavenger hunt) … take another coffee break. Write a blog … time for a beer. Fix the snaps on the dodger cover … time for another refreshing swim. Make dinner … have a glass of wine, watch a movie. Nah … I'm not complaining.

Unwinding at Chacachacare Island

Customs and Immigration are pretty strict in Trinidad. They require a tie-up at the Custom's dock (though they don't inspect the vessel) and immediate check-in upon arrival. We were all secure and tied up at the dock at 0845 and standing in line at 0900. The lines at Immigration and Customs were long and slow. We filled out all the requisite forms in duplicate and triplicate, using well-worn carbon paper that Columbus had no doubt used sometime in the past. The waiting area had lots of seats and a movie was playing on the TV. When we were finally called to the front counter, the Immigration officer was pleasant and informative. An hour later, we headed to Customs. We filled in several more forms providing all the same information we had provided to Immigration, paid our TT$50 (~US$9) and headed back to Cups. We dawdled long enough to pick up a SIM card and a data package for Internet, check with YSAT for a mooring and say hello to Sharon Rose and Jesse at Members Only, the SSCA Cruising Station Hosts whom we'd met on our last visit to Trinidad in 2002. YSAT had no moorings available and observing the crowded anchorage on our way in was discouraging. What to do? We remembered enjoying the anchorage off Chacachacare Island back in 2002. New Customs rules required a permit to go there. David went back to the Customs office to ask, and amazingly, the officer provided the permit within minutes.

We threaded our way back through the madding crowd of masts and frenzied boat traffic, past all the marinas, past Gasparillo Island and out of Chagaramas Bay. Just 7 nm away was a calm, beautiful paradise. We dropped the hook on the north side of Chacachacare Bay in 15' of clear, we-can-see-the-bottom water. Not another boat was in sight.

First things first … we considered this the end of our passage from Cape Town to Trinidad and Neptune was due his tot of rum.

We had a long list of chores and things to accomplish before we hauled Nine of Cups, but we had a few days to complete them and after several nights with minimal sleep, we opted to take the rest of the day off. No work … just relaxation … and a little planning. We had a late afternoon lunch and sipped cold beer, then took a refreshing dip in the cool, clear water. We watched some brown pelicans sitting on an old cement pier watching their cousins swoop and dive and soar gracefully inches above the water. Vultures circled overhead, but they weren't waiting for us. We had our work schedule and lists all planned, but tomorrow is another day.

Chacachacare Island, by the way, is quite an historical place. Over the years it has been a whaling station, a leper colony, a cotton plantation and, during WWII, an American military base. We can see an abandoned building ashore and other abandoned buildings across the bay. Midst the planned work schedule, I'm sure we'll do a bit of exploring. Hmm … I'd better let the Captain know.