"Sunday School"

At 2pm we're tied up at the dinghy jetty, ready to meet Son-son and our new Canadian friends. But the arrival of cruise-sailship, "Sea Cloud II", complicates things. The cruise ship needs to land their passengers, some with canes and a bit wobbly, browdside with big launches. That takes just about the whole little landing pier. Especially difficult for all the sailors and their "umbilical-cords to home, the dinghys. The rough surf complicates things. We re-tie up, lock with a chain, at the near end, out of Cruise' way, and cross our fingers...

Son-son and his colorful Danish friend, a red flower in her black hair, arrive and off we go. We're heading for "Sunday School" in Buccoo.
But first we have some sights to see along the way. Same roller-coastal road, passing all the shack-shops planted smack-dab in the hair-pin curves:"Small Bite Caf'e", "Outlet", that also a tiny shed, "Dougie's Bar", among a dozen more.
First stop, Fort King George, in Scarborough. There are huge Saman trees, supporting vines and airplants, red orchids and flocks of chirping Mot-mots and tropical Mocking birds. the grounds, mowed grass, stone-paved walkways, are tidy in contrast to the jungle-y trees and the vine-covered stone or brick barracks. The fort was raised in 1777 by the British and was alternating French or British in the ping-pong waring they waged. The British were holding the fort when the treasuries were empty and no more gold was to be found. They named the fort after King George III. And now it's Trinidad and Tobago's elected officials that hold the purse strings. Mostly Trinidad, says Tobago.
And there, in one of the fort's big trees, we catch a glimpse of Tobago's turkey sized national bird, a Chachalaca, holding watch. The cannons at the rim command a spectacular view on the Atlantic side.
In 2006, a peaceful spot.

Next stop, Tobago Plantations. More birds. This is a bird reserve developed and owned by the Hilton Hotel here. We stop at the reservoir and watch big Anhingas standing like statues of angels, stetching out their wings. Comorant-style. Pretty Black-bellies Whistling Ducks are swimming on the pond. On the golf course white Cattle Egrets are "grazing".
There is a long and winding plank "boardwalk".into the Mangrove grove. The spaghetti of huge looping roots in the salt-water marsh is otherwise completely impassable. Spooky, all quiet. Just the still, dark waters, a brown tangle of roots, under a dark, green leaf canopy. The trees are busy desalinating their drinking water. Out at the bay, at the far end, we're on the Atlantic, the surf breaking white on the reefs outside. The hotel buildings also shining white in the afternoon sun.
It's late. Got to march on if we want to catch the hummingbirds: Adventure Farms, revisited. We see a fair collection of the tiny jewel-like creatures, whizzing up to the red sugar-water feeder. The Rufous-breasted Hermit is an unpolished rusty color. But the Black-throated Mango is a shining, irridescent green. As is the more rare White-tailed Sabrewing. And who should fly by, newly arrived from Venezuela, but the crown-jewel, Ruby-Topaz!

We have more forts with cannon-protected veiws to see. Now we're down past Crown Pt. and Pidgean Pt. at Fort Milford. Overlooking Store Bay and Milford Bay. Lovely mowed grounds with large, flat-roofed Almond trees. Great for climbing, we witnessed.
The sun sinks into Store Bay with a pink-orange splash and we head for our last stop before "Sunday School", The Mysterious Tombstone". On it is written:
"She was a mother but didn't know it,
She was a wife, but her husband didn't know it
But for her kind attentions to him".
In the grave lie a 23 year old woman and her child. So, it's up to you to interpret the text. And now, on to Buccoo and Sunday School!

We drive in about 7pm and the street is already crowded. We pass small wooden booths some with souvenirs, some with home-made roulette-ish gambling, along the way. There's smoke in the air from several barbecue areas. This is the little lane that hosts the famous street-party, "Sunday School". Every Sunday since... when? Son-son's known of it for over 30 years.
He also knows a fun, loud-mouthed Barbecue lady, Sasha. She laughs, teases, jokes and calls out to customers. As she stirs, fries, arranges the many dishes that go with the "fish or chicken?" barbecue.
Now we are seven, a new Danish woman, we've met in Charlotteville joins us. She's travelling alone and is staying here in Buccoo. Barbecue smoke over us, plates overflowing, cold rum punch or beer in paper cups, and a merry crowd- It's a good party!
The Buccoo Steel Band gets going abour 7:30pm in the adjacent open hall. They're of all ages, and include two young girls on pans.They do the regular steel band rythmns and some popular tunes. And they do Handel's Halleluja Chorus! Definitly the first time I've heard that on oil drums. Son-son and his Danish friend start the dancing, and soon the narrow floor-space between spectators and band is filled. About 10:30pm they pack thier drums. And high-decibel, even higher bass, disco takes over. Across the street is "Hendrix: Original Sunday School" where it all started. Inside it's unlit, but full of dancers and disco music. We start yawning and have had enough dancing, at about midnight. But Sunday School isn't over til sunrise the next day!

Back at Charlotteville we discover that some kind person has pulled our dinghy out of the boiling, low-tide surf and placed it on the pier. Forever gratefull!