Jimmy of Bequia

our travels around the Caribbean bring us to many small and random places. One of the smaller, even by small Caribbean island standards, is Bequia, one of the Grenadines. It has a population of just over 4,000 living on seven square miles of land. The inhabitants are an improbable mixture of Black, Scottish and Indian- although no one is able to explain to me fully the peculiarly large Scottish representation. For a long time the place considered to be not worth colonising, and through the 17th century, it was populated by Carib and Arawak Indians, as well as occasional runaway slaves and shipwrecked peoples- supposedly a few Portuguese and Dutch slave ships on route to Sint Eustatius from West Africa reportedly shipwrecked on the reefs. In the 18th century, settlers arrived, and certain sectors, such as sugar, took off.

today, it is where you would go to hide from the world (if you cant afford nearby Mustique). Most of the beaches you can only get to by "water taxi," which is basically a random guy with a boat who stops and gives you a ride. Once you get to the beach, unless is right next to Port Elizabeth and there is a massive cruise ship docked nearby, chances are you might be just about the only person there, for Bequia is a pretty quite place. My father and I find ourselves in this position- we arrive by water taxi on a nearly deserted beach...but even it has something claiming to be a "bar," and as the sun reaches its mid day peak, my father seeks refuge in it. sure enough, a guy appears out of no where and manages to serve a nice cold local beer, while i go and get into the immaculate water. Later we take a walk through Port Elizabeth, which is the main city ("settlement" would be the better word really) on the island, it consists of only a few streets. i make the mistake of leaving my father alone for a few moments whilst changing camera lenses. By the time i got the right lens on and looked for him- he was gone. fortunately an old white man with a cane can only escape so far in a place like Bequia- and i soon find him in deep conversation in an open air food market, where he has in under 2 minutes befriended all the vendors. By the time i spot him, he is able to tell me where the vegetables on the island come from, and how much they all cost. We sit down with Jimmy, the market owner to discuss the island. I have loads of questions about things, but Jimmy is keen to make it clear he is not some provincial island bumpkin, and is soon giving us his views on Obama's foreign policy. it is truly amazing the things that my fathers price comparison obsession can lead to....