Follow link to read the published article: Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice. When the end of the cruising season in the southern Caribbean was upon us, we did what a majority of Caribbean cruisers do: We sailed south for Grenada. We delayed as long as we could, knowing the hurricane season was upon us but not wanting to be forced south. I had but one impression of Grenada, and that was of rotting boats and retired sailors.
It was a cruisers graveyard, or so I thought, and I was far from accepting an end to our sailing days. Grenada is the southernmost group of islands in the Lesser Antilles archipelago as well as the name of the main island within a cluster of eight smaller islands and about a dozen smaller islets and cays. The only thing I knew of its geography prior to arriving was that it was one of the few island groups in the Caribbean far enough south to be considered out of the hurricane belt.
It was with supreme irony, therefore, that we had to shelter in the mangroves on our first day in country from a category 1 storm. Little did we realise that this interconnection would be representative of our Grenadian experience.
Safely through the storm, we disbanded and spread out to explore our new surroundings. The south coast of Granada not only provides the most settled weather, it is riddled with about a dozen safe harbours from the dominant easterly swell.
Some stay for hurricane season, some use the island as a base for a few years, some retire from active cruising and either settle or sell. One thing was certain, though: Grenada was far more than the end of the line. We stopped at Petite Martinique, the third and smallest of the three main islands, and enjoyed the rugged, rocky beaches, side-stepping clusters of goat grazing the green rolling hills as we hiked up Mount Piton for panoramic views of the surrounding islands, and climbed down into the Darant Bay Cave for framed views of the same islands at sea level.
