Nights in Bequia

I have a penchant for shooting star trails on my Nikon camera and so when we finally had a rain-free evening, I set off up the hill to Hamilton Fort in darkness to try a shot. As a lone white woman, I felt a little apprehensive walking up barely lit small streets, but ensured that I exuded confidence.

Every house entrance was occupied by their residents, just sitting by the roadside and watching the world go by. The street seems to replace the front room, and why not when lighting is so limited and the weather is so pleasant? I heard a few radios playing Caribbean vibes, but saw no sign of computer games or televisions. Everyone knows everyone else and the street belongs to them.

Up at the fort, the darkness was complete and I set up. I was soon joined by a dark figure and tried to sit quietly and unobtrusively in the darkness. To my relief, it wasn’t a gang nor drug user, but a couple looking for the seclusion of the pergola overlooking the spectacular view of Port Elizabeth. I hoped they wouldn’t get ‘heavy’ before my shot was done, but they too were disturbed by a third chap making a private phone call. He acknowledged all three of us before retreating back down the hill to more seclusion.

Port Elizabeth by night

I lost my nerve part way through the shot and decided to head back for the lights of the bayside. On the way down, groups of burly lads passed me politely, and everyone had a “goodnight” to offer. I waited at the dinghy jetty for James with two ten year-olds. Their mum was waiting in the lobster restaurant so they sit patiently each night for her to finish. They entertain themselves – one was dumb but with an amazing imagination as he pretended to be Ussain Bolt at my starter’s orders, and was adamant we should gaze at the steel-barred lobster pen to look for the largest. The other was mature above his years, born on Bequia to Vincey parents, but with no ambition for his future above continuing life on Bequia as he knows it. They seem happy with us tourists passing through – I guess we provide the bulk of the income here, and there is no bitterness.

The next day we collected our trimmed genoa. It had been a monster job for the sail maker as the original sail was 300% the area we required. The job came in well over the quote, but we bargained hard (mainly as we didn’t have any surplus cash and the bank wouldn’t advance us more that day). Canvas is hard to obtain in Bequia and we were leaving them with enough to make two normal sails and all the hanks. Now we need an excuse the fly it to show the previous owner, Mat.