Adventures on Beannacht

The view over Sapadillo Bay at the west end of the island of Provo. Beannacht is anchored behind the catamaran in the foreground.

Wednesday 15th April

The Turks and Caicos islands, a chain of eight large islands south east of Mayaguana, is our first stop outside of the Bahamas and we were both encouraged to arrive in a new country and get the sense that we’re heading south. We dropped anchor on Thursday morning after a smooth passage sailing, and at times racing, alongside Gaia, and went to bed for a while to recover. On Friday morning we cleared customs and learning that it was Good Friday and everywhere was closed – dates get a little lost on us – we spent the day working on the boat and had Mike and Alyssa over for food that evening.

On Saturday morning Kel and I headed into town to explore local life and get our bearings. We called past Gaia on our way as Mike was sitting in the cockpit. After a couple of minutes Alyssa came up also and realising that they were both on board but their dinghy wasn’t tied to their stern I asked if they had lost it. I was actually joking, but they both looked at the back of the boat and it dawned on them, it had been stolen in the middle of the night. Such a nightmare, and could so easily have happened to us as we hadn’t locked ours up either.

Kel and I decided we would attempt to find the marine store to check for dinghies for the guys, and that we’d come back at lunchtime and give them a lift to shore to start a replacement process.

We hitched into town with an American couple that worked on the island. They pointed us in the direction of a good spot for lunch and the main shops and we spent the morning walking around the downtown area. Until very recently T&C had limited infrastructure and only dirt roads across the island. In the last five years very rapid development has seen an increase in immigration, particularly from Haiti, which lies just 100 miles south of the islands.

Aparently the provos have associated as a police force and setup their own sports club. We haven't seen Gerry or Martin as yet.

After lunch I collected Mike and Alyssa and we motored to the pier at the end of the beach to tie up our dinghy. Normally I would just beach it on the sand and throw out an anchor, but after the theft I was feeling anxious about its security. At the pier we met Junior, a Jamaican who has been working in T&C for a few years, and what I expected to be a brief conversation about the dinghy turned into quite the adventure.

After Mike explained that their dinghy had been stolen the night before Junior offered us a couple of options for where we could try to find a new one, one of which walked onto the beach right at that moment, Captain Blood. Originally from Honduras, Captain Blood had been on and off T&C since the early 80s, and at the minute was stuck here due to a drunk driving collision that he was working to repay. The police, if his story is to be believed, had given him a small skiff to fish with in order to earn money to pay the fine, quite the restorative justice programme. Captain Blood knew where we could buy a dinghy, and a minute later the five of us were driving towards Five Cays in a two-seater pickup.

Hollywood started playing films in my mind. 24 hour news channels with ticker tapes stating three abducted in Turks and Caicos rolling across the bottom of the screen. The West Virginia couple who had drove us into town the day before had warned that Five Cays was very dangerous, a shanty town full of illegal immigrants where the police don’t visit often. Perhaps sensing my concern Captain Blood smiled a gold toothed smile and said to both Mike and I ‘you guys wouldn’t be safe coming in here on your own, but you’re ok with me’, and then moved on to describe his direct confrontational approach to conflict management and personal safety. Comforting.

We drove for 20 minutes and arrived at the home of Captain Blood’s ‘boss’, although it wasn’t entirely clear what the business was. Mike and Alyssa looked at the inflatable boat on offer and decided it was unsuitable. Not deterred, our hosts threw out a few new options between each other and we were on the road again, this time driving to the north side of the island. We arrived at a marina and Mike was ushered into an office to talk to another of Captain Blood’s connections. Again we drew a blank, but by this stage the comedy of the day was really starting to unfold and Alyssa and I laughed together about the unlikely source of help and the relative safety of travelling in the back of a pickup at speed, socialising with Captain Blood, or the general political situation in Turks at the minute.

The islands are a British overseas territory, but due to corruption and their prime minister maintaining an estate agency business whilst also being responsible for selling crown land to property developers. At the beginning of this year the UK suspended the government and reinstated direct rule, and according to Junior in the process many government employees, including the police, have not been paid since. Explaining in his view the lack of response from the police when Mike and Alyssa contacted them about the theft.

Mike returned to the pickup again without success and we headed to Kingston, even by Captain Blood’s admission the most dangerous place for us ‘whiteies’ on the island. Junior and the Captain are two very different personalities, and at this point Junior put his foot down and said that he was not prepared to risk our lives by driving into Kingston. He parked at a petrol station just outside the entrance and Captain Blood set off to see a man about a dog, or in this case a dinghy. While he was gone Junior explained a little about Kingston and said that he wouldn’t go in there himself. The majority of the drugs bought and sold, as well as used by the sound of it, on the island of Provo originate from Kingston, and Junior literally thought that even driving down the main street with us in the back of the pickup would have put us at risk.

Again Kingston drew a blank, although Junior explained to Alyssa in the front that he secretly hoped it would as in all likelihood they would have been buying a stolen dinghy from that particular source. On the way across town I asked Captain Blood whether there was any possibility that we could buy Mike and Alyssa’s dinghy back from the thieves, but he thought the dinghy was probably on its way to the Dominican Republic or Haiti already.

Our dinghy hunt took a minor detour by the IGA supermarket so that we could stock up on provisions at this point. There are over 3000 British ex-pats living in T&C and we were all amazed by the quality and cost of the supermarket. Security weren’t so keen on the Captain and requested that he keep watch outside, so Junior and he waited for us to finish up. One of the things that Kel and I have missed most about the Bahamas was fresh fruit, so I took the opportunity to pick up a few mangos and bananas. Maybe it was all those bikini clad Bounty ladies on the tele when I was younger, but I definitely arrived in the Caribbean with the impression of lush island vegetation and loads of fresh fruit. To date the islands we’ve visited have been low lying and barren, and all of the fruit and veg has been flown in from either the states or the Dominican Republic. That should change with our arrival in Haiti and Dominican Republic at the weekend, and we’re both very excited about market shopping.

Groceries in the bag, we jumped back in the truck for three final stops in the search for the boat. Firstly to the marine store where Mike and Alyssa looked at a new sailing dinghy and priced outboard engines. That’s where the reality of their loss started to set in, their dinghy and outboard were probably worth in the region of $5000 to replace, and even a rowing boat without a motor would cost about $1500. If Kel and I suffered a similar fate it would literally come close to finishing our trip immediately. 

Next up was a dodgy beer shop where Mike bought us all a round of drinks for our trouble – although of course it really wasn’t any trouble for me, just an adventure and a free ride to the grocery store – and we drove down the hill back into Five Cays for our last stop. Again Junior was concerned for our wellbeing and took the long road in and out to avoid driving through the middle of the area. Even Captain Blood said that he had to assert himself in order to be safe here, apparently threatening to break someone’s neck on your first visit is the ticket.

After establishing that Junior’s friend’s shop was closed we jumped into the truck for the last time and drove back to the beach where the adventure began. Mike and Alyssa delayed making a decision on whether to buy the boat at the marine store, and we agreed to hook up for dinner that evening on their boat to catch up and laugh about our day.

I was really grateful for this insight into life on Provo. In particular Junior who was both really considerate in terms of our safety, but also very honest about the current social and political situation. One of the really interesting things about the political life of T&C is the percentage of the population who have no right to vote. Of the 30,000 people living in the islands only 3,000 are ‘belongers’ or citizens. The rest are non-voting ex-pats or illegal immigrants. With so few people actually involved in the process of selecting the government it makes it difficult to see how the development of the islands can take account of the needs or desires of the residents.

One final comedy experience at Provo is the morning cruising net at 7.30am on channel 18. Simon, the owner of Southside Marina just round the bay from where we’re anchored, maintains the net, and we’ve come to know him affectionately as Major Simon. He’s an English ex-pat and by his tone and demeanour must have risen to at least the lofty heights of major in the British army. He also appears to have a hearing problem because most communications with Southside elicit a response that includes directions to the marina, an invitation to their weekly BBQ on Thursday evenings and a ‘Southside standing by on 16′ – regardless of what you’re asking for.

Every morning he does a radio tour of the various anchorages and marinas in the area checking who’s tuning into the net – it’s a bit of a name and shame thing. On our first morning I called in and gave our name. Could you spell that please? Roger. Simon then proceeded to call us the ‘other boat’. Yesterday I tried ‘ban sounds like pan oth sounds like cloth’, to which he chuckled ‘Roger, that’s very helpful’, and then proceeded again to call us the ‘other boat’. Today I asked whether any boats in the area had visited Haiti recently and could advise us on the security situation, to which the Major replied ‘great, Vesper Light is in the marina at present and are also heading south at the weekend. Come to the BBQ tomorrow evening and you can plan to travel together’. I decided to give that one a byball and persevere, and this morning I even coaxed a ‘cool’ out of him when he was responding to one of our questions – very funny.