"In The Bullseye Of A Hurricane", Part 4

In The Bullseye Of A Hurricane - Part 4 That night, as ordered, the Grand Princess was at full throttle, chopping through the churned up seas, winds whipping the decks, playing chicken with Hurricane Tomas. But by morning, on a deceptively delightful day, the storm had already won, cutting off our course, and forcing the captain to curtail his plan. Still a sea day west of Grenada and Barbados, the ship began meandering, stalling, and hoping the hurricane moved north.

/ Meanwhile, I was enjoying the good life on a luxury liner: eating and drinking too much, hot-tubbing and swimming, playing shuffleboard or trivia, dolphin-watching, and, among other activities, winning the Battle-of-the-Sexes Cocktail Contest. Ok, I lost my round, but I was up against a beautiful young lady! How could I win? But, in the end, the men did reign victorious. And by now, the day before Grenada, I had a ton of fabulous new friends. Tripping the light fantastic in the sky high disco was becoming a regular nightcap.

As we slept, in the wee hours of Halloween, Hurricane Tomas swirled northwest.

We were able to harbor safely at St. George's. Unfortunately, Grenada had taken a hit. Branches and debris were strewn about, and our driver regularly asked roadside friends if their homes and family were well. Fortunately, damage was superficial with no deaths. And, despite morning torrents of residual rain, Tomas didn't stop us from finding bits of paradise on the "Isle of Spice".

First, we drove into the jungle, and slogged through bamboo forests, sampling cinnamon bark or nutmeg seeds, before some cliff-jumping at Seven Sisters Waterfalls. For me, the monsoons made the rugged hike exhilarating. It was far more refreshing than spiking humidity and heat, although the famed Mona monkeys remained hunkered and hidden in the canopy above. It reminded me of home, the rain and rivers, the waterfalls gushing. I relished in the cool pools, with my new waterproof camera, recording "Super Butterfly", our guide and cliff diver who nimbly scaled the green walls before backflipping into the punchbowl, or triple-jumping across mossy rocks into a time-stopping dive.
In the afternoon, rain gave way to rainbows and sun, and we spent the afternoon lounging with local food and brews on a spectacular bay south of St. George's. As its nickname implies, the food in Grenada is amazing-a mix of fresh fish and veggies, rice and plantains, smothered in curry and spice. I highly recommend a dish of flying fish. But all too soon, it was time to return to the ship. Driving back, we passed more ports and forts, before a last stop in the duty free shop. Not only did I procure a rather strong bottle of local rum, but I found two bored bartenders and a toy dartboard hanging among the bottles in the port pub. Click!

With a "bing" I was back aboard. Another fun-filled night and breakfast buffet later, we were docked in Bridgetown, on day one of the Barbados Darts Festival, a big target on my darts hit list. I was here a year earlier, but failed to visit the Ship Inn in St. Lawrence Gap, the home venue and headquarters for the multi-site tourney and multi-day exhibition that starred Wayne "Hawaii 501? Mardle. I had contacted the organizer, Michael, and had tentative plans to meet in person. However, between the havoc of the hurricane, and the non-dart-based desires of my travel companions, it looked like I wouldn't make it again. Instead, we found a driver and headed for a good beach and a day of snorkeling.

By luck or fate, the beach we chose was closed by storm debris. Our driver recommended the next best beach.in St. Lawrence Gap, just three blocks from the Ship Inn! So, after sun and surf all afternoon, and an hour to spare before our return rendezvous, I set off for the venue, fingers-crossed. An interested friend and budding dart pupil tagged along, and we found the bar with a solitary worn dartboard. I checked out the bar darts, threw a few bulls, and bumped into two British players gearing up for the first night of play. We tried Michael's cell, and to my surprise, despite scrambling to deal with storm impact issues, he was near and we managed to meet. Talking at ticker-tape pace, we toured the primary venue, an open air restaurant filled with foreign flags. Michael and I gabbed about Barbados and this unique event, and we discussed how to attract more North Americans. Before a feverish goodbye and thank you by the street side curio stalls, I pledged that I and DATW would love to help.

Week one and halfway done, I not only had darts on a boat and more islands to explore, but I had the opportunity to help promote one of the coolest darts festivals in the world.

But at the moment, "bing", we were back aboard and in the hurricane's wake, praying for Tomas to have mercy on St. Vincent, Antigua, and St. Thomas, and offer sanctuary to our ship.

Over and double out.










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