Bequia, Paradise Lost

For years, we had heard stories, read articles, and even listened to songs extolling the beauty of Bequia and its people. “Do you want to buy some fruits? I am your fruit man….(and I’m also stoned out of my mind and haven’t bothered to bathe in a week) No fruit? You want some smoke? How about for the nose? I can help you out.” If someone wasn’t wanting to sell drugs to our family out for a stroll, then our "Hellos" and "Good Afternoons" fell on deaf ears with hardly an acknowledgement.

The next morning I awoke at sunrise and went for a walk . I upon saying good morning to everyone, I got two responses. I think they were drug dealers by the look in their red eyes. The privately contracted school vans looked like something straight out of “pimp my ride”. They traveled at insanely fast speeds with 1000 watt sound systems reverberating through the hills long before you saw them. Gee, I wonder why Joey and Suzie can’t hear.

Around 11:00 that morning, when not 50 yards from out boat on shore we saw a female tourist and local man “wrestling”. When suddenly she really screamed and he took off running up into the wooded hillside with her bag. My God she was just attacked and mugged!! Now, I’m really lovin’ this place. We put out a “Pan Pan”, May Day, and anything else we could say on the VHF trying to call for help. Not one single local response. She sat their shaking with that stunned look in her eyes. Fortunately, all that her pack contained was a Lonely Planet Guide. I flagged down a local boat boy for help. He shrugged and said you’ll have to go to the police and fill out a report not bothering to offer his cell phone. Now that’s apathy. So there the perpetrator sat halfway up the hillside. When she went to the police, they had actually told her to come back at 5:00 p.m and give her report!!! Just go get the guy!!

At 5:00 in the evening we happened upon the victim giving her police report. We learned that the attacker had a cloth over his face and what she thought may have been mace or something. We let the policeman know how appalled we were at the lack of response from the Bequia community and authorities. You’re on an island of less than 3000 which means you know everyone by first and last name and you still haven’t figured it out who the bad guys are? The next morning I was in the tourism director’s office. We had a very long chat and she was truly appalled and frustrated. I suggested to her that the boat boys should “take care of things”; I didn’t go into the exact proportions of cement and water for the shoe mold…but after all, cruisers are their and many shop keepers’ livelihood. We provided email documentation of the incident and the toursim people were following-up, not the police.

Our final afternoon, Parker, Sabrina, and I taxied over to the “the Old Hegg Turtle Sanctuary” a place that preserves baby sea turtles until they juveniles of about 3-4 years old. The self made concrete tanks and facility were a culmination of this incredible man’s life work to help save the hawksbill turtle from becoming extinct. He gets no subsidies and relies solely on admissions and a few donations to keep his efforts afloat. I was appalled when a group of loud mouthed American tourists showed up and were demanding a discount from the $4 to get in. I suggested, in addition to paying the full admission price, they should also consider an additional contribution. They paid their proper way and the assistant quietly thanked me for “handling” the situation. He is trying to educate the local youth that it is not OK to eat the eggs and the turtles which is still customary in this part of the Caribbean.