January 21, 2012

Saturday, January 21, 1012

By 7:30 am we were in the dink and plowing our way through wind and waves to Long Island Breeze to meet Norma and Jay and take a days adventure by car.  The plan was to explore the Southern part of Long Island today and on Monday to explore the Northern part.  We rented a Ford Taurus for $50.00 a day and took off.  It wasn’t far up the road we decided to find the next (if there were any) gas station and clean all the sandy dust covered windows.  Gas stations down here don’t have window washing facilities and again, I realized this was another luxury in the US we expect but don’t really need.  The paved roads were long and narrow, and pretty much countrified if you know what I mean.  Goats, yes, the bleating kind, were about as abundant as deer running wild in the US.  It was advised before we left that a keen lookout was mandatory if we didn't want to hit one.  They are everywhere, and wild at that.  We also saw some sheep, but they must have been tame because they were hanging around unfenced homes eating the vegetation close to the houses.  Dogs own the streets as well, and seem to know that people here drive on the left side of the road and not the right as in the US.  ‘Pretty smart dogs’ I thought.  We also saw a wild boar standing in the street then rush to the bushes in hiding as we passed it.  I saw one donkey, wild in the middle of nowhere.  Life here on this island is pretty laid back and the people as well as the animals are perfectly willing in unison on this island.  It’s pretty neat.  There are a lot of empty dwellings, not like there are for sale or for rent signs allover the place.  They are just abandoned.  I suspect they may have the same tradition as Black Point….when people pass, their spirit live on in these homes.  I need to ask about that again and get a clearer description of that tradition.  I just wonder why families who have lesser means don’t move in to the nicer abandoned ones.  They are just perfectly happy with what they have.  We went to the museum to get a quick rundown of the Southern part of Long Island just to make sure we would not be missing anything important to the locals.  Churches are abundant here, and again, many are also abandoned.  This island took a good hit by Hurricane Irene.  Damage could not be overseen and repairs were still in process everywhere.  They don’t have the aid here as we have in the US.  And...take note...they are happy people.  My favorite stop of the day was Dean’s Blue Hole.  I have never seen anything like this and I was quiet with amazement and curiosity just how these things develop.  This is a very deep blue pocket of calm water that has been claims as the worlds deepest blue hole and the largest underwater cavern.  Divers have gone down as far about 220’ but it has been sounded as 660’ deep.  It was once a cave that eventually collapsed.  There were some guys from England who were there practicing for competition, and there have been competitions here before.  What amazes me is they can hold their breath for so long.  I wish I had timed them but I didn’t have a watch.  This is another Google search for info on my to do list.  I was just happy as a lark to be the one above taking pictures than in the water , much less under it.  I promise you this will never be on my bucket list.  As seen in the pictures I took, it starts out as a beach, pristine white sand that within feet of the edge of the dark blue sloped to a sudden 66’ drop off into the abyss.  There is a platform in the middle with rope attached, leading down below.  Tags are placed at certain depths so they can verify what depth they reached.  A diver never goes alone, always with a spotter because coming up it is quite common to black out and the spotter is there to make sure you make it back to the surface.  Also, when that deep, they say it is easy to get disoriented and not know which way is up.  That information was enough to keep me far from the waters edge.  Some dive off the cliffs above and climb up a ladder hanging into the water to get back to the top and do it again.  Mercy!   What a beautiful hole though.  We stopped at a few churches along the way including St Paul’s Church as well as Sts Peter and Paul’s church, both built by Father Jerome who was an Anglican  missionary and later converted to Catholicism.  Both were beautiful and both had hurricane damage also.  We climbed to the top of the left tower of Sts Peter and Paul’s church which gave us a spectacular view of Clarence Town.  Jay and Norma decided to climb down and climb the right tower so we could take pictures of each other.  I was glad they were the ones who changed towers because the trek up was narrow and scary.  In fact, Jay had to take off his back pack because it wouldn’t fit on the way up.  I too had trouble with just my camera around my neck.  By the time I got to the top I was convinced that only the young altar boys had that climbing job or that every must have been really skinny.  I would want to be in any race to the top, I was certain of that.  I gave a huge exhale as I came to the top balcony in a silent triumph joy that I made it, even with a bum knee.  The trip down was harder.  It was a touch a feel for the steps below one another.  I was glad I did it but would most likely wait below and be the photographer from land...up.  It was worth the experience.  It brought back memories of climbing the “Leaning Tower of Pisa” in Italy, when I was younger but I bet that climb had steps and not ladders and 1 foot landings to squeeze through to get to the next ladder.  Now, the “Leaning Tower of Pisa” is closed.  I have so many childhood memories I am grateful for, including that one.  Lunch was at the “Outer Edge Grill”, then off again.  The slave canals were pretty interesting, not in any books I read but told by a local as a must see. 

They are long canals leading from the shores into flatlands to let salt water in and then dammed up.  This water is allowed to dry and then the salt is removed and the process is repeated.  I don’t know how long the process takes because these salt flats were once owned and operated by Diamond Crystal but have since closed down the operation, again, I don’t know why but I did see the salt flats.  I asked if I could go and get salt from them but I was strongly advised not to because the walk there through the crusty surface smelled like sewer and they promised me I would be sorry later on in the day and it lingers on for days in your shoes.  I passed on getting fresh sea salt and wondered why anyone would want any after knowing that story.  I’ll continue to buy my sea salt at the grocery store.  I always thought salt mines were the only way to harvest salt.  Now I know different.  We continued on to Gordon’s beach at the end of the island and it was wonderful.  We didn’t spend much time there but a milestone on my bucket was unexpectedly achieved.  I found two small Scotch Bonnets.  I have been looking for one of these for years as it is the state shell of North Carolina and I refused to buy one.  The only owners I know in NC who have one, bought theirs.  I don’t know one person who ever found one and still wonder why it is the state shell.  We decided it was getting late and headed out for the Hamilton’s Caves but didn’t make it.  Had to stop at one more beach.  The maps here are not like outs, and the legends are even worse.  We took a road that looked like the best because the lines were the biggest.  We did get lost a few times but I kept telling them not to worry, this island is only 4 miles wide and the main roads run East to West so we were safe, as long as we didn’t drive into the ocean.  Gosh, what a trip, the roads became narrower and narrower.  Yes, I laughed not believing we ended up in this situation, and even took pictures because I was sure no one would ever believe this road was a big line on the map!  We were advised when we rented the car to stay away from the narrow roads with pot holes but they forgot to tell us they were dirt roads and absolutely no room to turn around until the end was reached.  Jay strongly suggested we make sure we pulled out all the branches attached to the car as well as the bottom grasses.  Then we hit something.  Jay thought it was a rock but was pretty sure whatever it was, we didn't need to remove anything from the bottom any longer as it was probably cleaned off by the rock or rocks.  The grass in the middle of the dirt road was at least a foot tall.  I don’t think the wild goats had discovered this area yet this year.  We made it, and I think I finally found my sundowner conch horn at this beach.  I’ll hold onto it just in case I find one with no hole on it, which is better but hard to find.  There were conch shell everywhere and I am sure I could have filled the trunk of the car with these, but only took one big one.  I am sure that made Fred very happy.  One is too many for his boat.  We went to Max’s Conch bar and had a diet coke and some breadfruit chips, something I have wanted to try while in these islands.  They were good but breadfruit is something hard to find.  Gary, the owner, told me there were 6 breadfruit trees on this island and he has 2 of them.  His were damaged by Hurricane Irene so I feel fortunate to have been able to try them.  He also gave me a tour of his unique gardens made mostly of conch shells.  He gave me some seeds of type of lily I have never seen, some other plume flower seeds and a start of his variegated split leaf philodendron plant which was about 30 feet high, making it’s home in a huge tree.  We shared garden stories, a fun man to chat with.  When we came back to the tiki hut, he told me I needed to try some of his conch salad as a salsa for my breadfruit chips.  I looked at Fred, knowing that was one thing on my do not try raw seafood of any kind here but I bit the bullet as he proudly spooned a heap on my plate.  Darn stuff was wonderful.  Now I can’t say I don’t eat conch.  I am not sure I even tasted the conch because the ingredients were pretty prevalent which to my pallet had white and red onion, hot peppers, green peppers, tomatoes, lime juice and orange juice and I am sure some type of spice.  The conch was chopped to nearly a pulp.  I tasted all the above but not the conch.  But...I would eat it again!  It was dark by the time we returned to Casa Mare’ and we shared a pressure cooker full of popcorn and called it a day.