We quickly learnt that there was a water shortage for the whole of the island, not just the marina. However, the marina had a pump problem which was taking its toll not only on visiting yachts, but the businesses associated with the marina. How can you run a laundrette without water?....
We had work to do and the boys spent a whole day running between the chandlery and Trilogy, working on the spluttering feeble flow of water from the Trilogy tanks. The main water pump has been an ongoing issue for Trilogy, perhaps having 4 replacements since taking delivery in 2012. After all day with their heads stuck down a tight space, a sizeable amount of well hidden blue plastic material was found in the pipes, that would have been there since the initial installation of the pump. The marina water issue was still not fixed but at least we had enough water on board to manage.
The girls definitely knew there was no point in hanging around the chaos on board, as the interior was completely upended to work on the problem. Having a haircut sounded a much better idea, followed by some supermarket shopping and coffee. We had all agreed that a ferry trip and tour of Barbuda Island would be a good idea for the following day, as we had hoped to sail to Antigua via Barbuda, but the winds were not favourable. Barbuda, like Anegada, is a low flat island, highest point being 60 metres and a population of 1500. It is a dependency of Antigua, separated by 25 NM of sea. We were promised an interesting day and we were looking forward to some more beautiful beaches, for which the island is known.
We were up early and the rain was very steady. By now we had learnt that things can change quickly with the weather, so we pushed on with getting to the taxi by 08:15. We had been told that would allow plenty of time, but alas, half way there, we encountered a traffic problem, allowing no movement of traffic in either direction for about 15 minutes. Our driver turned the taxi around and found his way through the back streets to get us to St John's ferry terminal by 09:00, but as with all things in the Caribbean, timing is never exact. In fact, the ferry didn't leave until 09:30, because of an engine problem. With all 30 passengers on board, we sat and waited while the engineer kept disappearing down into the engine bay and popping up again. The boys, of coarse, couldn't resist taking a peek down the hole and instantly got engine bay space envy! Finally, the engine sprang to life, and we were off, at first at moderate speed to clear the harbour and then full throttle. The ferry was called the Barbuda Express and that's what happened...express all the way, the twin hulls ducking and weaving through the large swell. For an hour and a half we were blasted with loud reggae music and tossed in every direction. We enjoyed the mix of old and young locals on board but were glad to get there.
We were met by our host for the day, John (born and bred Barbudan) and his offsider Orlander (a young Jamaican recuperating from a motorbike accident). We headed across the Island to visit Gun Shot Caves, which is where the original colonists, the Codringtons, used their slaves to light fires at night to trick pirates into coming into the island waters, only to be wrecked on the surrounding reefs. All the pirate bootie would then belong to the Codringtons when the wrecks were salvaged by the slaves. The Codringtons are also said the have benefited enormously from slave trading, as the native Barbudans were tall and strong, with highly desirable physical characteristics. We climbed up through the cave system to reach the top of the cliff face for an excellent view along the wild coast. Other caves further up the coast are special because there has been archeological evidence found of the first Ameridian people.
Next stop was the Codrington Lagoon National Park, which harbours the largest Caribbean colony of Magnificent Frigate birds on the outer edge of the Codrington Lagoon. In an open, high speed skiff we were whisked to the mangrove nesting area in the shallow protected water. Unfortunately it was not the mating season, for that is when the glossy black males put on spectacular mating displays with inflated red throat pouches. The males clack their bills, which resonates through the inflated balloon and makes a drum like sound, in an attempt to attract a choosy female for mating. The girls take to the air and when one hears and sees the handsome male of her dreams, she comes to his side. For us, we were treated to the fabulous sight of the young progeny, 1-2 years of age, as they still could not fly. Some brown feathered adult females were present overhead, but there was a multitude of youngsters precariously sitting in the mangrove tree nests waiting for their mothers to return with food for their youngsters. Only two black feathered males were spotted, as the males had mostly taken off for distant islands.
The final part of the trip was through the township of Codrington and a little further south to the pink sand beach for a grilled lobster lunch with our toes in the sand. The pink sand is due to small fragments of pink coral washing up on the beach and giving a distinct pink hue to the beach, but at this time of the year, the pink was less apparent. There was more to Barbuda than what we saw but the mostly dirt roads were badly pot holed and progress was slow on every leg of the trip. To our amazement, the local burly policeman pulled Orlando over to inspect the registration papers on our car. With great seriousness, the policeman questioned John and Orlando about the current staus of the registration, which was all in order. It seemed really strange that the policeman would do this, as surely the man must know every car on this small island and know that it was a tourist vehicle, with tourists on board....not welcoming or impressive! We later joked with Orlando about visiting him in gaol!
The trip home was exhilarating to say the least. The swell was over 2 metres and the wind strength had increased. The skipper was pushing the boat hard at around 20 knots of speed and he was having to work the wheel incessantly in order to angle across the swell and stop the boat from flipping. The reggae music was blasting and the 28 passengers were bracing their bodies for the entire trip. Thankfully only one person was seasick and we later noticed a large plastic container full of seasickness tablets being carried off. All the locals, young and old, joined in a song called 'One Day Christ-i-an', tapping their feet and singing along. The song refers to those who only turn up to church on Sundays. It was really quite a hoot!