Waking up with the sun is a nice idea. It's so hard to let the day begin without you when you're surrounded by such beauty in St. Lucia. All you want to do is be part of the day, even if you're not out hiking, swimming, exploring, or doing whatever else is available to you. We shared some coffee on the deck once again, called a few places to schedule a sailing trip and got ready to head to "our beach", Cas En Bas, again. It's beautiful, secluded and not even 5 minutes away; how perfect.
Jus' Sail, one of the sailing companies we called, were all booked for the rest of the week. We were particularly bummed, because their sailing experience seemed to be a bit different from the mega-catamaran group trips that so many other places offered. They focused on smaller groups, providing a more low-key, sailing-based experience. How novel: Incorporating actual sailing into the sailing experience, as opposed to loud music, watered-down drinks and forced dance parties. Because, really, how many timid random white people on vacation in St. Lucia want to dance with other timid random white people on vacation in St. Lucia? About 2 out of 40, would be my guess.
As we were heading out the door, the phone started ringing. It was James from Jus' Sail. He said that a slot had opened up, and that we could jump on it to do a private charter. The price was a little steeper than we were hoping to spend, so we sadly declined. We pointed out that we'd be willing to be as flexible as possible, in case another group/couple wanted to join forces to help split the costs for a full-day or half-day trip. Dejected that we wouldn't get to sit at the helm of a handmade wooden sloop, we defeatedly called the mega-dance party "sailing" group, and scheduled a cruise to Soufriere for Monday. At least we'd get on the water in some way.
We headed down to our beach, intent on taking some introductory kite-surfing lessons. We parked next to Simon's lean-to, and laid on the beach for a bit. When we saw that Simon was free, we started chatting with him, letting him know that we were ready to take some lessons. Simon was created to be a teacher. His confident, yet laid back attitude makes you feel like you can do anything with a kite while he's next to you, providing direction. He simply knows kite-surfing (not windsurfing, mind you. He didn't mind when we made the slip-up a couple of times, but I imagine it can ruffle the feathers of a more intense kite-surfer. Probably akin to referring to running as jogging). And he knows how to read people. He knows how to keep you calm and relaxed to "let the kite do the work", rather than tense up and muscle through everything.
He was just happy that he could teach a couple new people the sport that he loved, and told us he'd start setting things up for us. We'd be starting on the shore, with a small kite to get the feel of controlling a kite and hunting for wind. As we waited for Simon to set some things up, we noticed that there were a few more people at the beach today than the day before. It was a Saturday, after all, and a handful of locals had made it down to the beach to hang out in the shade. I guess that's the mark of a truly good beach: There are more locals than tourists. Sandals could have their manufactured beaches; this one they were keeping to themselves.
We began our lesson on a small, 3 meter kite. He taught us a handful of terms that we quickly forgot (power window?), but the concepts stuck with us. The clock analogy works quite well. 12 o'clock is complete neutral for the kite, sitting overhead, just hanging out in the wind. 12:00 to 3:00 is the area to "hunt for wind" when you want to turn right, and 9:00 to 12:00 is the area to hunt for wind when you want to turn left. He taught us to make tight aggressive figure 8s with the kite, starting with 12:00 to 1:00, using a push/pull motion with our hands to direct the kite. Pushing left/pulling right would direct the kite to the right, and vice versa. The more aggressively you push/pulled, the more aggressively the kite would dive. The goal was to make consistently smooth tight figure 8s, incorporating power, but in a controlled way. We each took turns learning the feel of the kite, and built up some confidence pretty quickly. Simon was very encouraging, and generally pleased with our progress, and moved us on to the harness stage. We'd still be doing essentially the same thing, but now the kite would essentially be hooked up to our body, and we could use our body weight to hold all of the tension of the kite, rather than letting it rest in our forearms. This would also allow us to hunt more aggressively, drawing more power from the kite. After another 10 minutes or so, Simon said we were ready for the water. This, even after Maggie accidentally got the kite stuck in a tree. I blame myself, though, as I told her to move to make way for a horse tour that was coming down the beach. She moved too far inland, and when the kite fell, it fell into a very hard-to-reach part of a tree. One of Simon's buddies offered to climb the tree to retrieve it as Simon prepped a larger kite (6m?) for us to take onto the water.
He taught us the basics about getting a kite ready for the water. You need to lay the kite on the beach correctly, run the lines from the handles correctly (downwind, towards the kite), tie the lines to the kite correctly (after picking up the kite and walking it down onto the lines correctly), and have a friend ready to assist you. Launching a kite from the ground is a two-person operation, and requires a little bit of coordination. With the kite downwind of you, the handler, the kite-holder and the handler then have to walk counter-clockwise about 90 degrees to get the kite on the edge of the window, which is the easiest launch spot for the kite. Once the handler is ready, they give a thumbs-up to the holder, who will gently release the kite, turning the leading edge to the wind to help it into the air, as the handler maneuvers it up into the neutral, 12:00 position. Simon and his buddy did all of this for us, as it it not as easy as it sounds.
He brought us into the water, and had us to some more wind-hunting, waist-deep. Maggie went first. This kite was twice as large as our practice kite, and so the handling was a little more predictable. It was not as easily affected by sudden changes in wind gusts, since there was more kite to catch more wind. But it was more powerful, and there was an added element of power control that the previous kite did not have. Pulling the kite handles closer to the body give the kite more power (I believe it pulls the trailing edge of the kite down, letting more wind catch it), while pushing the kite handles away releases power (making the kite parallel with the wind, letting most of it flow through). Maggie hunted for wind with her figure 8s, and when Simon felt that she was ready to bodysurf, he told her to get off her feet onto her belly and let the kite take her. She hunted successfully a couple of times, letting the kite drag her, but the added element of power control proved a little too much, and she soon face-planted into the water. This kite could really draw some power (and it was half as big as some of the kites that the serious kite-surfers were using). She got back up, and walked back to a good starting point. Simon guided her once more through the steps, and once again she was off, body-surfing with the kite. This run was a little more successful, as she got pretty far through the water, and it ended with a slightly less painful face-plant than the last time. A few more tries, and Maggie was really getting the feel of things. She was loving every minute of it.
I ran through the same general motions with Simon, learning the feel of the kite, and trying to let it pull me as I body-surfed. I don't think I was quite as quick to pick it up as Maggie was, but I eventually got a good run through the water before face-planting myself. I'm pretty sure everyone's first few runs end with face-plants. Sort of like The Jump program in The Matrix. Everyone falls their first time, even Neo.
Simon gave us some more words of encouragement, and told us we'd be ready for the Jet-Ski for the next lesson. He'd take us out into some more open water, and let us ride downwind a ways, getting a lot of good water time in. Which sounds fantastic.
Our time was up for now, though, and we chatted with Simon before he was off to his next lesson, a 10 year-old, who was quickly picking up some serious kite-surfing skills. Turns out Simon is married with a 2 month-old, and his wife, Sandy, is also an avid kite-surfer. In fact, she was kite-surfing a few months into her pregnancy up until the doctor's told her she had to stop. And she was already back out on the water, 2 months post-giving birth, doing some serious aerial tricks. This island is just full of great people.
We laid in the sun for a bit, then decided to hike around the cove to spot some secluded beaches that we had been told about. It wouldn't be a long hike, but might not be the most clearly-marked trail we've ever seen. We headed for the start of the trail and were greeted by a younger kid, encouraging us to eat some food at Marjorie's. It's understandable. They are just trying to make some money cooking food and selling beers, so why shouldn't they approach everyone they see, in hopes of gaining business? We politely declined, and continued on our way.
The trail started at a dirt road that doubled as a horse trail. This was made obvious by the overwhelming stench of horse manure that had been laying in the sun for days upon days. We held our breaths and walked up the small, barely bushwhacked trail. It was pretty tough to get through, so we opted to walk along the rocks at sea-level that were exposed and dry because the tide was out.
We continued along the rocks for a while until we came across a small path that led to higher ground. I decided to check to see if maybe there was a path above the slippery-ish rocks that was easier to navigate. Indeed there was. We climbed the short incline up to the small trail, and continued on. The footing wasn't great, and at some points, the trail walked right along the edge of the crumbling wall, which made Maggie a bit uneasy. We weren't far from the end of the cove, though, and the trail seemed to get better, not worse. I convinced her to keep moving forward, and a short while later, we were at the tip of the cove, and could see some more hidden beaches. One of which, Simon would later tell me is called "5 Dollar Beach". Named so because a local who lives above the beach charges everyone $5 to use it. He considers himself the caretaker/owner of the beach, and makes sure its always in good condition ("He keeps it nicer than some of the resort beaches around here").
We snapped a few pictures on the windblown tip of the cove, and decided to head back. It was hot, and the tide would be coming in shortly, potentially stranding us. The short walk, not without some harrowing steps, was finished before the tide fully came in, and we were back to our beach spot quickly enough. We were tired, dehydrated and hungry, so we decided to head over to Rodney Bay to find a place to grab some Coke, at the very least; maybe some food as well. We wandered around the area, but nowhere seemed to open. We finally settled in at an open-air bar close to the strip mall. There was a soccer game going on that a lot of people were watching. We saddled up to the bar, and immediately felt awkward. Not because we were foreigners. Not because we were taking up precious bar spots while an important game was going on. We felt awkward because the chairs at the bar were way too low for the bar. We were physically awkward. We felt like toddlers sitting at table without a high chair. We could barely place our elbows at the bar. I wondered if the bar spots are just trick spots for foreigners, and then everyone could laugh as we fumbled around, impossibly trying to find a comfortable position. But no, there were some locals also sitting at the bar. I guess that's just how this bar liked to do things.
Maggie ordered her Coke, but the force-of-habit switch in me turned on (bar + sports = beer), and I ordered a Piton. I didn't want a Piton. I mean, I'd drink it. But I really wanted Coke and water. Oh well. I could struggle through a beer. I slugged the beer, finishing in what felt like seconds, and for some reason, ordered another. My brain was on autopilot. I needed to break away. I drank that one quickly as well, pretending to be intensely interested in the soccer game being shown. Not only did I not care, I couldn't even figure out what countries were playing. The scoreboard showed "BAY" and "BSB", which wasn't enough to figure anything out. The only BSB I know of is, ashamedly, BackStreet Boys. Halftime rolled around, and I learned that "BAY" was a club from Germany, but that's about all that I learned. I managed to break out of habit and order a coke. We finished our drinks and got out while I was still half-sober. It was too early and too hot to get smashed.
We walked around aimlessly for a few minutes, still in desperate need of food, and then Maggie had the brilliant idea to try the roadside restaurant that we've been passing for about 6 days now. Prudee's House of Roti. It was a very small house, but seemed like it might serve some honest-to-goodness great local food. We hopped in the jeep and made our way to Prudee.
Prudee (or the man we assumed to be Prudee) was outside, standing behind a bunch of buffet style pans, each holding some new glorious food treasure. We parked the car on the grass/sidewalk, and walked over. He was preparing a full dinner plate for a guy, and it looked amazing. Rice, Lentils, salad, potatoes au gratin, and choice of meat. Yea, this would do nicely. We said hello, and asked for two plates. He had fish and chicken left. Yea, this was a place where you ordered from what was available, and when it runs out, it done runs out. He had only 1 dish left after we were done, so we got there just in time. Prudee closes up shop whenever he sells his last dish or roti, so fortune favors the early eaters. We paid $39EC ($15) for both of our plates, and we were on our way.
We devoured every last bit of food, along with our rum concoction from the day before. Prudee should really charge more money. The food was delicious, and there was way too much of it. We still had some room for our rum concoction, and ended the night with some fruity rum in our stomachs.
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