- Mac’s father kept his goats at La’Anse Coite ( pronounced “Lans se Koi”) on the remote windward side of Bequia. The herd ran wild along the steep hills of the bay, and catching one for Momma to cook was a challenge to say the least! Everyone loved stew goat but it involved quite a bit of effort before the meat got to the pot.
I recall a time when Momma gave Mac the task of getting a goat for her, she wanted it on a Saturday to cook for Sunday lunch. I decided to go along with Mac, I had heard about but never seen Bluesy’s goats at La’Anse Coite and was curious. I was told to wear good shoes and long sleeves as we would be hiking through bush to find the herd.
Mac and I set out in Momma’s land-rover at first light in order to surprise the wild goats in the early hours of the morning. Momma had given Mac his father’s rifle, the first gun I had ever seen on Bequia, and I assumed he knew how to use it. Mac placed the loaded rifle in the back of the vehicle along with a bucket and we set off for La’Anse Coite.
We drove through the coconut plantation at Spring along a rugged track, then parked and walked when the road ended. We had to be silent as we hiked so that the goats wouldn’t be startled, and we followed a path through dense bush watching for signs of the animals. It was the dry season, and twigs were snapping under our feet as we walked, making it difficult for us to be quiet.
Mac stopped abruptly and raised the rifle, he had spotted a cluster of goats down the hill from where we stood. Wonderful! There were lots of them and they were close to us, lifting their heads as they sensed our presence. Before they had a chance to run away Mac took aim and fired. And MISSED. He took aim and fired again. And MISSED. By then the goats had taken off, running down the steep hillside towards the stony beach.
Mac took off in hot pursuit but there was no way he could catch up with the goats, they were far too fast and agile. To my amazement a figure suddenly leapt out of the bushes lining the beach and tackled one of the goats, slitting its throat with one swift stroke! It was Alick, a young man Momma and Bluesy had “adopted” and raised from the time he was a child. Mac and I had no idea that Alick had been hiding on the beach with a sharp knife, his presence was a complete surprise to us. I was happy that we would not be going back to Momma empty-handed but Mac looked decidedly woebegone, he had fired and missed his target twice and I think he felt somewhat cheated.
Momma in her wisdom knew that Mac couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a gun and had sent Alick as back-up. Alick gutted and skinned the goat, then placed it in the bucket Mac had brought. We drove the land-rover back to family hill to deliver the goat to Momma. With a glint in her eye all she said was, “knife?” Poor Mac, hunting was definitely a humbling experience for him!
Love it like all your stories
That is a fantastic story Judy!! Too funny!