The type of transport that someone chooses can tell you a lot about their income level. In Chelsea, yummy mummies scoot around in cars the size of Wales protecting Tarquin and Jemima while in Korea a Honda Cub Moped is considered a large family car. In St Lucia the favoured from of water transport is a 10 meter rib with 2 300Hp engines on the back and as we got into the Grenadines a surfboard with a single paddle would suffice, no matter how far offshore you want to go.

We left St Lucia headed toward St Vincent in our usual mode of transport but instead of hurtling along at breakneck speeds, well walking pace, we were unduly slow. Looking behind us the reason for this became obvious. Our fishing line was bar tight and slewing all over the place. We’d either caught a monster of the deep or roadrunner had been reincarnated as a fishing lure.

Slowly we reeled in the line, but there were no flashes of brilliant Green, no streaks of silver, and no splashes as the monster leapt out of the water. This was unlike anything we’d caught before. We drew him alongside and he was a very unhappy ball of muscle with snapping jaws, a look of hatred on his face and a back covered in Yellow Fins. We’d caught our first Yellowfin Tuna. The hatred soon disappeared as Fiona aimed a spurt of alcohol at him and he succumbed to it like a teenager on his first big night out. It was now just a question of lifting the unconscious spaced out beast onboard.

At the worst possible moment he recovered his senses and came to the conclusion that things wouldn’t end well for him as a temporary crew member of Ruffian. He trashed about making the cockpit look like a scene from the Texas Chainsaw massacre and was only quelled with a final slug of rum but not before making Iain look like he’d was a victim in a slasher movie.

Coming into St Vincent we realised we were very much in a different country. The speedboats of St Lucia had been replaced by unseaworthy paddleboards where the occupant- had only a single paddle and with it was happy to venture far offshore. The biggest difference in the boat boys from St Lucia however wasn’t just their means of transport, they were also charming in everyway and as the boat nippers (younger versions of boat boys) played around Ruffian they seemed happier to have our attention rather than our money.

After skirting along the coast of St Vincent and being appalled at the etiquette of charterers (a beer time story only) we entered the sensational waters of Bequia where the hills are dotted with paths and there are viewpoints around every corner.

On land we took to our foot based form of transportation and went up into the hills seeking out the viewpoints. Walking about we were more amazed at the people we met than the views themselves, and the views were sensational. We felt adopted by everyone we met, from the lady who gave us lessons in picking Tamarinds to the ‘dude’ who saved us from our own stupidity.

Our stupidity was that we’d gone romping on a Sunday in the midday sun without a map and without enough water. We looked everywhere for a bar or a shop and everything was as shut as shut things. Finally we happened across a ‘dude’. He led us fully off-road, through derelict buildings and with us getting increasingly worried he became increasingly animated. Then there, in front of us was an open bar, full of likeminded ‘dudes’ all filling themselves with their quota of Sunday morning rum.

It seemed like we were the only white faces that had ever entered the bar and we felt like its mascot as we were petted by all the patrons. During the week all the ‘dudes’ were fishermen and across from the bar was their very active port. Even on a Sunday it was a hive of activity with fish being landed, gutted and prepped for lunch while kids foraged for the scraps. This was an experience that isn’t in any guide book but was so Caribbean and so the $1M question is what will the rest of the Grenadines give us in the days to come.


The fruit n’ veg man like you’ve never seen him before.


How did we ever sew things before the amazing gift of the sewing machine?


Panels off. Bimini down.


The iconic Piton.


Hey Terence (the Tuna). Thanks for dropping by.


The iconic Pitons.

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Whales and dolphins surround us.


Thankfully it was only the dolphins creating plumes in the air. The volcano remained quiet.


The Caribbean is famous for its ‘weed’, but not this sort.


They have sunsets in the Windwards too.


Beautiful Bequia.


It must get really windy here to need anchors to hold down trees.


The nautical theme is everywhere.


Ahh. The Grenadines.


Super steep hills, we have to traverse them.


The locals at their local fishing harbour outside their Local.


So very chilled out.


Ruffian rests.


That’s more like it. Much better than our efforts in St Lucia.


Storm clouds gather.