DAYS 13-14........UNION ISLAND......Happy Islands

Every time I have been to The Windies, and this area, The Grenadines, I have made the trip to a place of stunning natural beauty, The Tobago Cays Marine Park. This is accessed only by boat, a day trip usually from Bequia, including snorkelling opportunities, photographic panoramas, good food and booze. This time the trip was shorter and we went by Catamaran not the Friendship Rose Schooner. Jim of course had never been so he especially was looking forward to it. Words cannot describe the natural wonders at The Park, the many shades of aquamarine, the sea life, turtles, stingrays, puffer fish and a myriad of other unknown species of marine life, apart from that little fishy chap from Finding Nemo. Brilliant . And this time the food was better, the Cat was great, the trip was shorter even under sail, Trish didn't feel like throwing up at any time and we called in at some other equally fab islands before arriving at The Cays. Stunning. And the best bit of all, thirty quid cheaper!
However, there is another island worth visiting in these here parts.

Let's get things in perspective. Out here in paradise life is tough for a great many of the inhabitants. True, they live in places where even the most ungreenfingered idiot could grow enough grub in this fertile volcanic soil to eke out a basic existence without the aid of charity from tourists. The weather, admittedly at times extreme, is generally pleasant with no need to huddle round a fire made out of anything that will burn whist watching the snow fall outside the circle of warmth. But still, there are a lot who live basically in makeshift shelters, shacks and tumbledown brickwork..

One such was a geezer called Shante, from Grenada who decided that action was the name of the game, to raise himself from nothing, to make something of himself. Instead of relying on others, he arrived on Union island, took one look at the natural reef that protects the harbour from the more serious battering force of the Caribbean waves, the resulting calm harbour of Union, and decided to build an island. An island he made from conch shells and concrete and then painted it bright red, green and yellow. Two Palm trees added to the overall decor, followed by a bar and outside bar b q area, then some speakers and a sound system and finally a name 'Happy Island'. And once built it quickly became established as the word spread that Rasta hatted Shante's bar was 'd place to be'. Water taxi drivers heartily agreed, charging tourists for the pleasure of being shuttled to and from Happy Island, five minutes easy motor from the mainland.

It was rude not to become one of the many hundreds who have paid his doubled up prices. And so we found ourselves aboard one of the local rickety wooden rowing boats, equipped with a powerful yet ageing, rusty outboard motor, making light of the one mile to Shante's mini paradise. The 'Captain' of our vessel was amply rewarded not only by us but also by Shante, who gave him, after we had disembarked, a cigarette the effect of which made our skipper drive his boat around the island in speedy widening circles until it was time to pick us up. Shante, meanwhile, a male lookalike of Whoopi Goldberg, plied us with rum punches (Jim's favourite drink out here) and free chicken, which Merlin attempted to pay for! The more we drank, the more we drank, words, which, as we were ferried back from Happy Island by our grinning fool of a pilot, I am sure I saw daubed on the roof of his bar, beneath his solar panels and satellite dish. It's a simple life.....but it don't have to be!