Tomia is busy!

We are doing a dive course here in Statia, and studying some theory. Anthony says aaargh, he thought he would never have to do an exam again.

More to follow soon, including ash plumes from Montserrat, surge warnings, and mountaineering goats.

Different Voices - A Guest Blog

Different Voices – A Guest Blog:

With wonderful generosity, Celia and Anthony have been sharing their Caribbean island-hopping life with ourselves (Tim and Linda) for the last two weeks [mid December]. And now, with equal generosity and a trust exceeded only by that of letting us both loose at the wheel in a 25-knot wind, Celia has handed over the Tomia Blog to us as ‘guest contributors’.

Tim’s Guest Blog:

My goodness, what a responsibility, and how to use this 15 minutes of fame to offer some additional insights into the lives of the couple through whom we weekly live vicariously this Caribbean dream, and which Celia already describes so well?

Of course a regular subtext of the blog is that this is not a dream. It is a reality and, like most realities, has its share of drudgery and challenge. So the first thing to report as an interested observer is that, as anyone who knows them would expect, C&A tackle every aspect of their new lives with energy, determination and their habitual sang froid. Whether it is a blocked cooling inlet to the generator, a broken cog in the wind turbine, a misbehaving wind-scoop (to make the lives of their fore-cabin-sleeping visitors more comfortable) or the embarrassing ignorance of said visitors when it comes to the basics of ship-board life, they take it all in their stride.

But are the ‘they’ who do so the same two people who sailed away in 2008? Let’s describe them. Anthony, sans front tooth (see blog posted in Tobago Cays), with several days’ growth of stubble, tanned almost to the shade of Tomia’s newly re-laid teak decks, lean and muscular, is almost piratical in his Caribbean look. As I study the photograph of him and Celia taken before the voyage began, which is in the centre of the collage of pictures of family and friends on the forward bulkhead of the main cabin (home and family are always present), it’s true it is the same man. But I suspect that this – the one here now – is a slightly more sun-mellowed Anthony who, had he arrived on Dominica thirty years earlier, might well have slipped into the local life, hanging out with Moses and SeaCat and Pancho, the Dominican locals whose company he evidently enjoys, absorbing the music and whatever variety of rum punch is on offer (though not, we are sure, the ganja weed also continually between the lips of these friendly Rastas).

And how to describe Celia? No teak deck comparison here – only the finest shade of Caribbean chocolate, blended with local rum and applied translucently to any area not hidden by her very fetching and sea-bleached bikini. Blonde hair perfectly in tune with the sun-kissed life she is now leading and, if the look is now more wind-swept than ‘created’ by a London stylist, it is as appropriate to the outdoor life she now leads as any previous look was to her former existence.

In short, Celia and Anthony are clear proof that these days we all have the opportunity, should we seize it, of staying vigorously, sensationally and genuinely young in body (no thoughts of botox and plastic surgery, please) well beyond the prospects of previous generations.

Body and spirit – yes, that too. As the Reggae rhythms drift lazily across the water from the bar on the shore in Portsmouth (the Dominican one), so Celia’s tanned hips start to ... [here Tim got a bit enthusiastic, so, to paraphrase, I am well and happy, and can occasionally hula hoop for a few consecutive seconds. CM] Later in the week she also demonstrates spectacularly that she can ... [Ditto] I wonder if she will post the photo on the blog? [No way]

So have they become a Caribbean couple? That is more difficult to answer because, in their very British and thoroughly organised way, they have successfully packed an extraordinary portion of the Caribbean experience into just two weeks for Linda and myself and, in so doing, as they themselves admit, accelerated their own lives to about three times their normal speed. Personally I don’t believe that they are ever anything but well organised, (mostly) pre-planned, eminently practical, wholly sensible in their approach to the sea, thoroughly curious for knowledge as well as experience, and as much the perfect hosts as if we had been staying with them at Hemley Hall Cottages on the banks of the Deben. So if in both some element of a deep-seated Caribbean nature has been revealed over the past year, still good old British nurture holds sway. Could that change? Perhaps that depends on just how long they plan to remain here – and that is one of the few issues which from time to time rises I suspect above 2 (from 1-10) on the ‘dilemmometer’ scale for them.

Now, Celia has asked us particularly to report with ‘fresh eyes’, on all that they have been experiencing and she reporting over the last many months. What are the principal impressions? Before giving them, I have to go back to Celia and Anthony, because what is clear is that they invariably prefer the simple and unpretentious, the real and occasionally raw and the basic and unsophisticated aspects of Caribbean life. Not for them manufactured, manicured and molly-coddling marinas. Not for them islands of affluence and life with the jet set. Yes they have visited Mustique, but as soon as we started to make arrangements to come here it was clear that the Caribbean they wanted to share with us was very different from that of Princess Margaret and Noel Coward. And although we flew into Guadeloupe (officially part of France), they were patently not going to be happy if we didn’t fairly rapidly set sail for their favourite and much less developed island of Dominica – conceding to us a two-day ‘acclimatisation’ stop in the tiny Les Saintes islands just to the south of Guadeloupe.

This, in a nutshell, is what we have done: sailing, swimming, snorkelling, fishing, rainforest walking, waterfall pool dipping, flora and fauna-identifying, eating, sleeping, wandering, chatting, making music, reading, laughing, learning (about wood, rum, chocolate, coffee, Christopher Columbus and the battle of Les Saintes) – and then doing more of all the above at another small town or bay either on Dominica (8 days), Guadeloupe (2 days), Les Saintes (2 days) or sailing in between. And it has all been wonderful.

Key impressions? How compact yet complete life is on 43 foot Tomia; how rain here is a blessing not a pain; the friendliness of the Dominicans; the seeming acceptance and enjoyment of life as it is, without apparent yearning about what it might be; the very basic wood and corrugated iron-roofed shacks that for many are home to a whole family; the wonderfully vibrant colours everywhere; the speed with which the sun goes down; the clarity of the stars in the night sky; the podginess and pastiness of the tourists off the cruise ships in Roseau (and I fear of C&A’s two guests); the power of a 160-foot column of water as it hits the pool at the base of Victoria Falls (quite impossible to swim against, but glorious to try); the excitement of seeing a dolphin alongside; the exhilaration of sailing with a 20-25 knot wind on the beam; the blueness of it all, the variety and profusion of the fish to be spotted when snorkelling and the thrill of a wonderfully coral-covered stretch of rocks (tempered by reflection on how much bleached coral there is also); the fierce but happy and noisy style of electioneering here (the Dominican General Election was on at the time); the glory of the rainforest, with its profusion of leaf shapes and sizes and above all its extraordinary GREENNESS and WETNESS, equally intense; how phenomenal an experience a 60 metre diameter lake of boiling water really is (see Linda’s blog below); how ‘French’ and how much ‘easier’ Guadeloupe is than Dominica, with its own strong attractions but without the occasional ‘challenges’ of the latter (one senses that a larger number of people in Guadeloupe live ‘simply’ compared to a significant number on Dominica who live in or close to poverty). One could go on and on……


Linda’s Guest Blog:

I don’t have the depth of knowledge that Tim does about Celia and Anthony so I am not able to compare the couple with whom we have just spent two magical weeks with the husband and wife who set sail from Southampton all those months ago. These are some of my impressions of who they are now, and I trust something of what I share will make their life out here in the Caribbean real for those of you who delight in reading this blog. I feel privileged to have shared this time with them.

Tim has been around boats much of his life , which pretty much left me as the novice on this trip. Learning the essentials such as how to effectively flush the toilet, be economical with the shower water and how to find my way round the contents of the well-stocked fridge were all top priorities. Both Celia and Anthony from the outset encouraged us to get stuck in with many aspects of life on board. Rowing the dinghy from Tomia across the bay to the delightful French bakery at Les Saintes to get our daily supply of baguettes took me back to my teenage years on the waters at my local reservoir. A task I was readily able to embrace. But who’d have thought within days of this that I’d be at the helm of Tomia, attempting to steer a straight course (!) - Anthony’s concerned face popping up from the chart table at one stage said it all - in strong winds and cross currents on our sail from Les Saintes down to Dominica. This created a real sense of exhilaration and achievement as we felt the boat flying as effortlessly as the silver-tipped flying fish which kept us close company along the way.

If the sailing was something new and a challenge, when we reached Dominica I all too soon realised how my life in London had ill prepared me for what lay ahead. Celia and Anthony have honed and toned their muscles while they’ve been away. A sedentary job with the occasional game of tennis little prepared me for the rigours of climbing up steep, rugged pathways through the rainforest to see the Boiling Lake on Dominica –14 miles up and down and then up again, across bubbling sulphur pools, past tumbling waterfalls, all the while keeping an eye out for the elusive sisserou parrot, Dominica’s national bird! No parrot, but we did see a neatly coiled 8 foot boa constrictor sunning itself after a satisfactory kill. The skin was a subtle, surprisingly sensuous blue/black. While the snake scarcely shifted a coil, we all regrouped our energies and continued on our hike. The arduous climbs to reach the lake were well worth it, however, as we watched it roil in clouds of steam below us, the heat coming from volcanic activity some mere hundreds of feet below the lake. Enterprising locals a few miles away make good use of the hot water as they carry it via bamboo pipes to supply hot water sulphur baths where hikers can rest their weary bones.

We have been in search of the less travelled bays and Celia and Anthony have generously shared their favourite haunts with us as we’ve journeyed through Guadeloupe, Les Saintes and Dominica. They have made some good contacts along the way and it’s been heart-warming to hear them greeted by welcoming young men in fast motor boats, men who offer their services as guides, ferrymen for produce such as bananas, grapefruits and bread and, very importantly after a week on board, laundrymen for our sticky tee-shirts. One friendly guide, ever-present with a strong, helpful hand and a smile, was Pancho who led us on our demanding Boiling Lake tour and then on a river rock scramble up to Victoria Falls.

Days of activity have been followed by most welcome evenings of relaxation with rum punches (Macoucherie rum bought directly from a local distillery), sipped while sitting on board Tomia or on sandy, palm-fringed beaches watching spectacular sunsets. When horizons have been clear of cloud we’ve looked in hope and expectation for the elusive rayon vert. Anthony claims he’s seen the green flash as the sun’s rays depart to leave an inky black night, studded with stars.

Celia’s made sure our artistic side has not been neglected. She fell immediately on some new clarinet reeds we’d brought out for her and then promptly produced a treble and descant recorder. She and I enjoyed ourselves playing duets – not so sure about our captive audience! - while Tim practised his blues harmonica. I did wonder at what the nearby boats must have thought as strains of simple classical and more modern pieces drifted across the water to them.

Two weeks in close proximity can sometimes risk straining friendships, but we all remarked how well we’d got on. This was in great part achieved through both Celia and Anthony’s relaxed attitude and infinite patience with someone who was coming to grips with shipboard life for the first time. Every new day presented fresh Caribbean delights – diving pelicans, darting hummingbirds, the hint of dolphins ready to play, to name just three. Coming back to snow-bound London makes the sultry Caribbean seem much like a dream now. But Tomia, Celia and Anthony are still very much living that dream and I’m so pleased to have been able to share in their special adventure.