Multitasking? It’s yours for the asking
A versatile, broad-brush approach to work is a common feature on the islands of the Caribbean
Back ashore once more, and now stricken by nostalgia for those places we had visited and people we had met while in the Caribbean, I sought to ease my discomfiture by browsing through the hundreds of photographs I had taken over the preceding six months. A decade or so ago, mindful of both the film and subsequent processing costs, I remember myself as being downright miserly in the photographic sense. No longer. The digital explosion that has since emerged has blown away any restraints.
In short, I have become profligate in my use of cameras – to the extent that picking the gems from the dross and filing them where they can be retrieved has become an inescapable chore.
So, back at my desk, sorting through the assorted gigabytes lurking within my collection of memory cards, the image below leapt onto my laptop’s screen. Frankly, it took me by surprise, since it had slipped my mind that it existed. We had been anchored in Tyrell Bay on the island of Carriacou, 20 miles to the north of Grenada and part of its nation state. I had spotted this boxy form floating inshore of our position and had wondered what it was. But it wasn’t until we were chugging ashore in the inflatable that its secrets were revealed. Up close, we could see that it was a trimaran – 40 to 50ft at a guess, and almost certainly a sailboat in earlier life. But whatever the boat’s provenance, it had clearly been stripped of its rig and had since gained what appeared to be a monstrous barn on its deck.
Wizardry with metal
With my own memory hesitantly clicking in, I recall asking around to learn that it was now a floating workshop owned by Frenchman Dominique Webber and wife Genevieve. Dominique, I was told, enjoys an enviable reputation for his wizardry with metal. He builds dinghies out of aluminium, pulpits, biminis and the like out of stainless steel, and is involved in all sorts of repair work. Genevieve is equally well regarded as a sailmaker, repairer and – wait for it! – therapeutic masseuse.
Such a broad-brush approach is not unusual in these islands. Versatility is a common feature. For instance, Simon, a taxi owner renowned for his tours, also sells freshly caught fish (landed within an hour or so of you acquiring them) and very acceptable wines at prices the shoreside shops can’t match. David, a security guard at a local boatyard, is an electronic wizard who unlocked an old cellphone for me so I could install a local SIM card. Then, when my previous laptop’s motherboard surrendered terminally and I was on the brink of despair, my namesake Andrew – a restaurant manager – confessed that he was something of a computer wizard and scraped all the data off the hard drive for me so I could transfer the files and ongoing work to Chele’s machine. Paul of the Galley Cafe is an acknowledged expert on rigging and also an agent for Budget Marine, a discount chandlers with a large store in Grenada and many other Caribbean locations. You slip in for a cuppa, consult the catalogue, order whatever you need for the boat and it will be with you the next day via the ferry. That’s what I call service.
In these islands generally, it’s hardly surprising that the grapevine works so vigorously. Grenada as a whole has a population of about 100,000 – about the same as Basingstoke! Carriacou is home to around 7,000 souls, with Petite Martinique hosting perhaps 900. There are no major employers – certainly none on an industrial scale – so living there calls for ingenuity and adaptability.
And in this the locals are both helpful and generous. All you need do is ask, and the advice – sometimes conflicting – floods in. Chele needed some prescription medications replenished, so the word went out and recommendations flooded in. Reviewing the options, she accepted what she judged to be the majority preference and rode the bus into Hillsborough – Carriacou’s largest town. There she saw Doctor Freddie (who originally hailed from Cuba) before trotting up the street to a nearby pharmacy to pick up the pills. It really could not have been easier or, for that matter, more agreeable. We celebrated with a beer at a waterside bar.