In a Mini-Van With 19 of My Closest Friends

Welcome to Grenada, Frank!

Frank and Barbara at Fort George

Frank Willson has arrived on the island. A little background – Lisa, Frank’s lovely wife, gave Frank a visit to Astarte in Grenada as a 20th wedding anniversary gift. She did all the planning with Tom, Frank’s cool boss, Angela, his feisty assistant and us – keeping it secret from Frank. It’s a funny gift for an anniversary – sending your spouse away (or is it, hmmm???) But he arrived on Wednesday night and after a long flight from Columbus, Ohio and some time through customs in Grenada. There he was in his bright green shirt. He was handed a Carib beer by his host and we loaded into the car.

Frank has been a friend for a lot of years –and (so far) a darn good boat guest. He did come laden with gifts of Oreos, crackers, parts, mail, “duty free” liquor, etc. For the next few days, he’ll do the posts on the log – because it’ll be fun to see the island through his eyes – we do wish the weather would get a bit better so we can get some snorkeling in.

IN A MINI-VAN WITH 19 OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS.

Guest Post by Frank Willson

They called it a bus. A bus in Grenada is decidedly different than a bus in the states. First off the horn on the “bus” has a much more entertaining, catchy little tune. But from there it was a definite adjustment... more on that in a bit.

Michael and Barbara waited patiently for me as I cleared customs at Maurice Bishop Airport in Grenada. Customs went smoothly until they discovered the libations I purchased at the “Duty Free” shop in Miami (on which they promptly directed me to the side to pay “Duty” on my “Duty Free” libations). No big deal though.

The doors opened and there stood Michael, Barbara, and one of my best friends: a cold beer. Mike and Barbara had gotten friend Dave to drive us back to the anchorage in his swanky Nissan. Very nice car with one exception, it had no steering wheel! Wait a second. What the heck is doing over there? In my sheltered white-bread world, I haven’t been adventurous enough to be in a country that drives on the left side. After several heart stopping moments, I can assure you it’s not as simple as driving from the other side.

Night one was very nice. Astarte is gorgeous. The cabin is roomy and even my 6’ 3” frame can stand comfortably. Although we did laugh at Mike’s installation of what I coined “Frank Foam.” These were pieces of circular insulation that he placed in the doorways to keep me from knocking the noggin. (They’ve proved very effective as I’m as clumsy as Chevy Chase doing a President Ford impersonation.)

The first morning Michael and Barbara endured my addiction to Diet Coke. (Barbara has personally witnessed me drink approximately 1,345,603 Diet Cokes when I worked for her in the early nineties.)

After being properly caffeinated, sunscreened, AND HYDRATED (LISA), we set out into St. George’s for some sightseeing and shopping. Trip started with a dingy to the marina and then a short walk to the bus stop past a group of men with machetes (intimidating to say the least.)

The mini-van/bus pulled up and the sliding door flung open. The stereo blaring and the rhythmic horn echoed throughout the mountains Grenada. There were four people per row and 5 rows. Very tight but nothing compared to the ride home.

In town we had a great lunch at a local cafeteria. I had something called “Palau” which was a wonderfully spicy rice and chicken and a zesty coleslaw on the side (I’m sure that Grenadians have a more entertaining name for it than coleslaw.)

We hiked up to the fort where former leader Maurice Bishop was executed. We still don’t understand why they named the airport after the leader they executed but so be it. You can still see the bullet holes. A man named Paul introduced himself as one of many “historians” we met who will tell you everything about the island without being asked, and then ask for a small tip. We politely declined.

From there we bought some Red Snapper for dinner at a very cool open air fish market and some other supplies at the grocery. I got to spend my first “E.C.” the currency of the Eastern Caribbean. I discovered Mike and Barbara’s saying: “EC come… EC go…”

We headed back for dinner and a happy hour. We went to the bus station, crammed in again but this time there was a new addition. The gentleman loading the bus inserted cushions over the gaps of the seats. As we packed 20 people into a MINI-VAN we took off onto the narrow streets dodging cement trucks and people. To stop the bus you simply tap on the ceiling and the driver will stop. The problem was this large bald American guy (me) was blocking the way! Watching me pry myself out of the mini-van stop after stop had to be entertaining for the rest of the passengers. I felt like the jaws of life might be needed.

We came back, napped a bit, hit a happy hour at the marina, and came back for a wonderful dinner (of the fresh fish we bought) and a great end to my first full day on Astarte’.