Port St Charles – derrickjknight

A Knight’s Tale (135: Time For Celebration)

We stayed in Port St Charles for several days after Sam’s arrival at the island. This was because we had had to guess at his arrival time. It was also helpful for us to see some of the other competitors into the harbour.

Sam, in particular, wanted to be at the docking area to welcome Pavel Rezvoy, who had become a friend. In the event, this meant a night-time vigil as the 65 year old Russian disembarked during the night.

Sam, the youngest, and Pavel, the oldest, had been almost neck and neck across the Atlantic. Because of the distances involved, they were unaware of each other’s progress, but we had been able to follow them on the internet. Suddenly, for two days, Pavel’s boat was stationary. His satellite phone was not working so the trackers could not even be sure he was still in his boat. This became quite a worry.

In fact, my son completed his journey two days before his friend. Pavel, a most resourceful gentleman, had lost his rudder, and spent two days making a new one out of bits of his boat.

The pair came in first and second places of the solo rowers. Each evening, fuelled with with rum punches that certainly packed one, we joined the Ocean Rowing Society’s administrative team celebrating in the hotel bar.

Tatiania, Pavel’s ex-wife, had kept the Russian Press supplied with reports on the race. Their take on the story was a contest between The Young Gun and The Old Grey Wolf. The rowers themselves hadn’t even known they were competing. They were just happy to complete the challenge.

Here they are with Tatania and another man called Micha, whose role I cannot remember.

An interesting fact which should be apparent from these photographs is that these two rowers, both in very good shape, were the only ones who had allowed themselves a full night’s sleep. All the others, who arrived in pretty sore, tired, condition, had operated on a two hours on, two hours basis, thus, I imagine, ensuring that they were always tired.

These are views of the luxurious development, that is the holiday resort where the race was completed, that can be seen by those poorer folk outside.

Overlooked by luxury apartments, the rowing boats lie among others in the docking area.

Pavel Rezvoy, in the black T-shirt, stands beside Tatiana. Sam’s boat, Pacific Pete, is on the right. Workers on the roofs in the distance demonstrate that building continues.

Here, Sam is interviewed by Dixie Dean for the official film of the race.

I cannot identify the owner of the avian eye apparently fixed on me from the Port St Charles shrubbery, whilst mine were observing a team of roofers putting finishing touches to the luxury apartments of this rich person’s playground.

They certainly needed their varied headwear which presumably offered some kind of protection from the strong, hazy, sun, scorchingly hot despite the occasional clouds.

The next month a post Atlantic Row celebratory dinner was held in London. Beginning with the top row from left to right Frances, Sam, Heidi; Fiona, Elizabeth, Michael; Chris, Jacqueline, Louisa, Derrick, Jessica; Becky, Matthew, and Tess are seated on these stairs.

A Knight’s Tale (133: The Official Welcome)

At last Sam arrived into Port St Charles and

successfully brought his boat into dock.

He sat aboard for a while, preparing himself for his first touch of land for two months.

Sam, Dixie, Ken Crutchlow, Louisa5.04138

Then came the official welcome of Ken Crutchlow, Secretary of the Ocean Rowing Society, filmed by Dixie,

Before doing anything else Sam was required to report to border control. This involved walking along a narrow quayside to present his passport to a man in a little office. As he was rather wobbly, he needed my assistance to reach this point. It was, of course, a great privilege to be selected to provide such support.

Jessica, Louisa, Sam, Ken Crutchlow and Derrick 5.04146

After this we lined up for group photographs. Here Jessica, Louisa, and I join Sam and Ken.

Here, I relayed the result to the Nottingham Evening Post.

Before repairing to the bar, Sam caught up with me, his mother and his sister.

Here he is in the beach bar.

Each evening for the rest of our stay, we began with potent rum punches in the main dining area upstairs. After a few of these, Ken would always cry: ‘Samson Knight. Who named that boy?’

We were to learn in particular how the voyage had not been without its narrow escapes.

A Knight’s Tale (128: Waiting On Barbados, Part 1)

During the few days waiting for Sam to arrive in Port St Charles, Barbados, and afterwards, I took the opportunity to roam the Island with my camera.

Jessica, Louisa, and I began our stay in an hotel on the southern tip of the island, some miles from the finishing point, but soon transferred to join Chris, Frances, and Fiona in one in the luxurious developing holiday playground.

This area presented a stark contrast to how the rest of the inhabitants of Barbados lived. Our hotel was surrounded by a compound patrolled by armed guards to keep out people like a coconut seller seated on the wall outside. His produce looked unappetising and he charged fairly optimistic prices.

Some distance away, a young woman, seated on a rugged outcrop gazing out to sea, was persuaded to rise to her feet.

Port St Charles (Speightstown on the map) lies on the Caribbean Sea to the north west of the Island. To the east storms the Atlantic ocean. The two bodies of water meet at the northern tip of the Island. Rowers need to navigate this point with precision. Too wide and the current would would carry them to Cuba, too near and they would be smashed on these rocks. The competitors rowed in pairs or solo. One of the pairs hit the rocks, and had to be rescued.

These seascapes are of the more gentle Caribbean.

Much less inviting was the dark, violent, Atlantic that, on the last couple of days, swept my son so fast towards his final destination that he dropped his anchor to slow himself down in order to arrive in daylight. Not for him, Cuba or the rocks.

Meanwhile, I traversed the island.

Cacti flowered profusely;

I learned later that this is a calotropis;

this is an hibiscus;

bougainvillea grows everywhere on the island;

as do coconuts.

A lone stork stands out from the long grass by the sea,

on the coast of which expensive holiday homes contrast with

the traditional wooden chattel houses.

I was surprised to see a horse lurking in the hedgerow, but have since learned that racing is a popular pastime, dating from the colonial years.

This is possibly a grackle, or a Barbadian Black Bird.

The iridescent blue tinge on the neck of the Zenaida dove is intriguing.

I expect there were plans for this rusting drum.

I have seen graffiti in many forms, but only on Barbados has it been carved into succulents.

Travel Challenge Reveal

The 10 day travel challenge required no explanation of the chosen pictures. Now is the time to elaborate a bit.

Day 1 featured a splendid toyshop in, I believe, Monpazier, one of southwest France’s Bastide towns, which I visited with friends Maggie and Mike in September 2003. More about such towns, with photographs, appears in https://derrickjknight.com/2018/01/13/more-bastides/

The woman in the red cardigan clutching her handbag appeared on Day 2. In September 1982 she paddled in the seawater on Bréhec beach in Brittany during a holiday Jessica, Sam, Louisa, and I took with friends Ann and Don. More can be see here: https://derrickjknight.com/2016/09/26/going-for-a-paddle-2/

On Day 3, Jessica stands on Place Fell in Cumbria on 18th August 1992. More images of this trip are found in https://derrickjknight.com/2017/03/12/i-felt-more-than-somewhat-queasy/ with evidence of the reason for my title.

The sunset appearing on Day 4 lit the Atlantic Ocean off Barbados in March 2004 while Sam was completing his epic row. A group of us were following Kilcullen, a support boat for the Ocean Rowing Society’s annual race, first featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2016/02/22/atlantic-sunset/

Further images from that trip and something about the race appear in https://derrickjknight.com/2015/12/02/the-young-gun-and-the-old-grey-wolf/

While on holiday at Instow in Devon in the summer of 1985 we took https://derrickjknight.com/2016/09/04/a-day-trip-to-mousehole/ where the photograph appearing on Day 5 was produced. Sam leads Louisa and Jessica up stone wall steps.

Day 6 features a disused slate mine outside Cerrigydrudion in North Wales where Matthew, Becky, Jessica, Sam, Louisa and I stayed in the summer of 1983. There is more on https://derrickjknight.com/2016/05/21/before-gaeddren/

My uncertainty about Monpazier mentioned at Day 1 shows that my knowledge about where I’ve been can become a bit hazy when I haven’t kept notes. My Day 7 picture is a case in point. I needed an alert reader to point out that this was my first visit to Mousehole, made on honeymoon with Vivien in March 1963. The significance of this photograph is explained in https://derrickjknight.com/2014/05/02/not-lost-after-all/

Day 8 features Port St Charles, Barbados, in March 2004, where Sam is mooring his boat, Pacific Pete. In the background can be seen building work. This is the relevant original post: https://derrickjknight.com/2016/01/22/port-st-charles/

During the years I travelled to London to visit my friend Norman I regularly walked across Westminster Bridge where, in July 2013, I was approached by the five women who were on holiday at Day 9. The encounter, and others, is described in https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/17/that-was-worth-fighting-for/

Jackie and I enjoyed our honeymoon in Ockley in March 1968. In Day 10’s photograph she looks down on the Surrey countryside from the top of https://derrickjknight.com/2015/02/16/leith-hill/

I am aware that this series may present some confusion to more recent readers who may not have read https://derrickjknight.com/2014/01/05/my-branch-of-the-family-tree/

The Official Welcome

It is clear that William Shakespeare was an Englishman if only because of his song, ‘When That I Was And a Little Tiny Boy’ from ‘Twelfth Night’, the refrain of which is: ‘For the rain it raineth every day’. He knew our weather.

Becky and Ian returned home this afternoon, managing safely to negotiate the still disrupted A27.

Afterwards I scanned more slides from Barbados, March 2004.

Sam successfully brings his boat into dock.

He sits aboard for a while, preparing himself for his first touch of land for two months.

Then comes the official welcome of Ken Crutchlow, Secretary of the Ocean Rowing Society, filmed by Dixie,

After this we lined up for group photographs. Here Jessica, Louisa, and I join Sam and Ken.

Before repairing to the bar, Sam caught up with me, his mother and his sister.

Here he is in the beach bar.

Each evening for the rest of our stay, we began with potent rum punches in the main dining area upstairs. After a few of these, Ken would always cry: ‘Samson Knight. Who named that boy?’

This evening there was plenty of last night’s Spice of India takeaway left over to feed Jackie and me. I finished the cabernet sauvignon, and Jackie abstained.

Crossing The Line

Our new granddaughter’s name is Poppy, which we rather like.

Although the weather was warmer and sunnier today, Becky’s photograph of Scooby sunning himself in my chair, illustrated the general lack-lustre mood of the still recovering party.

It was therefore another good day for scanning colour slides from May 2004, and incidentally reducing the tension with which readers were left by the cliffhanging ending of yesterday’s post. That first rate storyteller Bruce Goodman ( Weave a Web ), for example, was forced to speculate about whether Sam ‘made it’, or was foiled at the last minute.

Sam continued along the western shore of Barbados, on his route to the finishing line,

which was an imaginary one stretching from port and starboard markers.

Of the reception committee Chris wears a blue shirt; Fiona a white T-shirt and black trousers; Jessica, a blue and white sun dress; Louisa, a dark top and grey mini skirt; and Frances waves the flags. Dixie records a video for the Ocean Rowing Society.

Having crossed the line Sam aims for the Port St Charles dock into which he is required to manoevre his boat. I imagine this must be rather like coming off motorway and finding a berth in a municipal car park.

This afternoon, Helen and Bill visited with a bottle of prosecco, with which to celebrate Poppy’s birth, and a sweet little outfit for us to take when we make her acquaintance.

For our evening meal Spice of India delivered another excellent takeaway. I drank Lion’s Gate cabernet sauvignon shiraz 2014. As for the others, Jackie says ‘we’ll all drink whatever we like. It’s none of your nosey business’. Naturally this was received in the jocular spirit in which it was intended. Given that everyone knows what she drinks, I don’t think that really matters.