The Ocean Slinky cometh.

Yes, we run trips in exotic places on sailing yachts. Yes, the places we swim while on these trips are stunning, and our guides are top-notch. However, the whole thing would fall apart without a great chef. Being a chef on a boat is probably the job that sounds the most glamorous while actually being quite the opposite. Galleys are tiny. Provisioning for American tastes in Caribbean grocery stores is a challenge. Equipment is very limited. If there’s an oven, it will have two temperature settings: surface of the sun, and off. Chefs have to chop vegetables and boil water in a boat pitching on rough seas, because meal time is always coming. 

I bring you Mallika. She’s from right here in St. Vincent. She taught herself how to cook at a young age, watching cooking videos on Youtube. Her ingredients are uber-local: she picks avocados from her backyard, brings them on the yacht and turns them into sauces and drizzles or puts them under sashimi from fish caught right here. Her jerk sauce is legendary. Her deserts are never too sweet. Anyone that works in this business knows what kind of unicorn we’ve found here, and we are grateful. 

We woke to a mischievous sea. I’m not sure how else to explain it, but sometimes the wind, the tides, and the sea life all collude to bring you some little surprises. We jumped in for a swim to the next bay south, just as some sargassum was floating in with the tide. We had tail currents then head currents then tail currents then no current. Heather got up close and personal with a jellyfish tentacle (we later rubbed a poultice of baking soda and seawater on it, she’s fine). At the same exact time, Miriam spotted a (currently) purple octopus.

Back on the yacht, Myssie spotted something strange in the water, a four-foot long pink tubular creature. Turns out it’s a sac containing thousands of diamondback squid eggs, sometimes called an Ocean Slinky. These are some of the largest squid on the planet, getting up to 5 feet long and weighing up to 30 pounds. Seeing this egg sac is a very rare thing indeed. What a thrilling way to cap off our morning. 

Here’s some video of our very rare Diamond Back squid egg mass sighting!! - HP

Mal crushed a lunch of tuna tartar on a bed of avocado in her peach socks - boom! - HP

When we anchor in the little bays at the foot of these tiny, picturesque villages, we are almost always offered help. A local guy in a small wood boat motors up, and takes a line to shore for about $6. Sometimes other guys come to sell us hand-made jewelry, fruit, coconut water, or fish. Today we bought some wares from Randolph in Walliabou Bay. A lot of the stuff he makes is from whale bone. St. Vincent is one of the last places on earth to harvest whales, which sounds repugnant to first-world ears, but when you see these communities relying on the ocean for survival, you get closer to understanding it. We saw a whaling vessel last week. It was about 24 feet long with 2 men aboard. These are not commercial harvesters. These are people using what they have, and using all of it. Let’s agree that it’s complicated. 

Our afternoon swim began by crossing under the rock arch, then through a coral field, where we once again encountered the bait ball of Caribbean Herring. It seems it has grown tenfold since last week, and moved in endless waves, undulating, changing shape, literally hundreds of thousands of fish all connected by what looks like magic, but is actually a biological synchronization from one end of the school to the other, which in this case was hundreds of feet long. 

Enjoy this mesmerizing video of our herring school…..WOW. - HP

We ended our swim at the little bay we call Paradise, climbed aboard Dlokoko, had a lovely journey to Chateaubelair as the sun set, and feasted on spicy grilled chicken and fish. New moon tonight, pitch black, a million stars, dreams of our salty adventures. 

Hopper