After a couple of days of what seemed like nonstop rain, we were able to spend a day walking throughout St George's. On this first (somewhat) clear day (after morning rain showers) we ventured forth and walked for miles and miles (only a couple times having to dodge rain by remaining inside a museum or a store). The town is quite busy with wet narrow streets and fast drivers. The children must be taught from the age of toddlers about the dangers of walking (as they all do) on the side of the road (no real sidewalks to speak of). We visited some interesting shops and galleries that featured island artisans. Along the way, we stopped into the tourist office and had a nice long chat with the representative there. We hoped to pick up a listing of the local bus routes and, while she did not have one immediately available, she instantly telephoned someone in a nearby office who readily walked over with one in hand. We talked about several island sights of interest and how best to reach them by local bus (our budget doesn’t allow for taxis!). Our tour throughout St George’s included the Carenage and hilltop fort, the Lagoon, and beyond to the expansive Grand Anse Beach. From there, we literally walked the entire distance back to the dock at Prickly Bay where we left our dinghy—probably some four miles or so.

After another couple of days of what seemed like nonstop rain, we managed to connect with the correct bus that would take us up the western coast to the town of Gouyave where we could tour the largest nutmeg processing plant on the island . Much of the country’s agriculture, including the prime nutmeg crop, was destroyed when hurricane Ivan hit Grenada in 2004. The evidence of that still remains within the processing plant as many of its drying beds remain empty and unused. Our tour guide told us that it would be likely another 15 years before the nutmeg crop matured once again to the level the plant experienced pre-Ivan.

The following day, despite a rainy start (the usual "morning showers"), we headed off to connect with the bus that could take us to the island interior and the Grand Etang Forest Reserve. The uppermost canopy of this rainforest was damaged extensively during hurricane Ivan, but it was very interesting to walk about nevertheless. From the information center, we hiked to the crater’s caldera now filled with water to form a lake.  With the time available to us in the daylight, after listening to the other hiking options presented at the information center, we decided to take the hike to Seven Sisters Falls .   We really enjoyed this hike, despite the mug slogging. We ARE in a rain forest after all! Dave brought his bathing suit along to swim in one of the fall's pools.

Throughout our island stopovers, we have relied on the local public bus system for intra-island transportation whenever available, and Grenada was no different. Regardless of which particular island we’re on, using the local buses is much cheaper than taxis and provides more of a local experience since we’re forced to immerse ourselves into the local culture and interact with the residents with the resulting unpredictable but rewarding outcome. That said, Grenada’s bus system was more of a challenge as it was more complicated and included more routes with a central hub to navigate. Figuring it out was a bit frustrating, but satisfying in the end. Similar to other islands, the buses consist of individually owned mini vans, with normal seating for about 15 close friends. Each bus is uniquely identifiable with the owner’s (driver’s) personal decorations or personal philosophy emblazoned on the exterior . “True Love” or “Equal Rights” or “All Free” are some examples. On Grenada, bus IDs are augmented by the route numbers and route colors. On our first visit to the bus “depot”, we could find no listing of the available routes and destinations. Fortunately, Grenada’s tourist office provided the answers. The fares are typically set by the government of the island and we knew they would be modest considering the distance being traveled at any time.

After a few rides, we pretty much had the system figured out. Similar to systems on other islands, the buses are really free-form group taxis, adhering to no set schedule and no specific stops. Their routes originate in a central depot in St. George’s and they do not depart until they are jammed packed full. To get on a bus outside of the depot you simply flag one down – they will stop anywhere as long as they’re not still full from the depot. Once aboard, tell the driver or “co-pilot” where you want to go, or just ride along and knock on the roof when you want to get off . On Grenada, each bus has a “co-pilot” who hawks riders from the left side window/sliding entry door; the driver hawks (or honks) from the right (right side steering). The co-pilot also collects the fares and hustles the riders into their seats, which can be a challenge. On one 15-passenger bus we were among 18 riders plus the driver and co-pilot. We weren’t kidding about getting immersed into the local culture! Best we can tell there are no speed limits. Due to the help of the co-pilot, the driver can concentrate on barely missing other vehicles and pedestrians, managing the loud radio, and operating the horn. Honking between vehicles and at pedestrians is a form of Morse Code – the number, sequence, and duration of individual beeps means something, but most seem to be greetings rather than traffic control.

Because we usually rode the buses in the morning and afternoon “rush”, perhaps we experienced a bit more hustle and bustle than normal. Regardless, we did get to ride with the school kids during these times as the public buses double as school buses . School kids ride free and get special treatment. As an aside, all the Grenada school kids dress in uniforms with the boys wearing ties and the girls all having ribbons in their hair. They are very adorable and polite to a T. In one memorable instance that revealed genuine Grenadian culture, the bus we were riding stopped abruptly in front of a pre-school. The co-pilot jumped out and stopped the bustling rush hour traffic in both directions and escorted a small boy (who looked about 3 or 4 years old) across traffic to the school yard –holding his hand and carrying his lunch bag and backpack. Once on the school’s premises, with a handover of the lunch bag and backpack and a gentle pat on the rump, the little boy began to confidently toddle toward the entrance balancing the backpack from one tiny hand held high and the lunch pail from the other tiny hand held high—looking somewhat like he was balancing the scales of justice on what was a somewhat upward climb – could this be symbolizing his future? Meanwhile the co-pilot jumps back on the bus which speeds off. A few rat-a-tat honks signify all is safe to proceed from the school zone and rush hour continues. No words are spoken, but all is understood.

We ended up spending a total of eight days in Prickly Bay visiting these shore attractions while mastering the public bus system and learning to accept the frequent rain squalls (which, we should be thankful, were not frozen). It rained every day, several times a day, in relatively short, windy bursts. One of these bursts arrived at 0500 in the morning along with 30+ knot wind from a slightly different direction than the prevailing NE wind and finally (after days of holding) dislodged our anchor. Donna was awake and watching our GPS anchor track, so we were able to respond right away before drifting too significantly. We started the engines and with the aid of our spot light retrieved the anchor bridle and anchor, repositioned the boat in a nearby spot, and were able to reset the anchor securely in the dark, driving rain. A nearby boat was doing the same. It's not all rum drinks and mangoes.....