So here we are.
It has been quite some time since we entered these "pages", our life continues to be an adventure.

Le Savonaire

Emmy and Bruno, the soap maker, in Ilse de Saintes. Bruno turned out to be a life saver and friend during our visit in Terre de Haute. We will see him again on our way back north.

Dominica Rerun

It’s a pretty long jump to make it from Fort de France all the way up to Portsmouth, Dominica in daylight (approx 68 miles), but it’s doable with favorable winds and an early start. So we were up and at ‘em bright and early, and were underway before 6 AM. We motored along the lee shore of Martinique 15 miles up to the northern tip of the island, and then struck out for Dominica, about 30 miles away. These inter-island passages can be easy or difficult, and sometimes conditions don’t seem to match up with the forecast as quite as well as you’d hope. This time around though things went according to plan, and it was a nice sail across.

Once across into the lee of Dominica the seas calmed down, and we stayed a few miles offshore, so we held onto some wind for awhile and were able to sail on for a few miles before we had to turn the engine on again. After a pretty long, uneventful day we were approaching the harbor at Portsmouth when we saw really dark clouds easing over the mountaintops towards us, and before long we could see heavy sheets of rain pouring down, and heading towards us, eventually blotting out most of the land.

So it was back to closely watching the chart plotter screen and carefully checking our charts as we throttled down a little and crossed our fingers that we wouldn’t have to anchor in a full-on tropical downpour. Just as we eased into the bay the skies brightened up a little and the rain tailed off (thank-you!), and we found a nice spot just off the “Purple Turtle” bar & restaurant to drop the anchor in the large smooth bay.

We’re trying to get some miles under our belt on the way back home to St. Croix, so we only planned on anchoring overnight, and didn’t go ashore. The game plan is to head over to Marie-Gallant if the weather in the morning is favorable, or back up to Les Saintes if the wind is blowing out of the east. We enjoyed a quiet dinner aboard, and settled down for a calm evening of rest. And then came a “whoomp.” Whoomp-whoomp. Whoomp-whoomp, whoomp-whoomp-whoomp. Hmmm…that sounds like the bass line of some sort of music…and it is Saturday night…I guess they may have some music at the Purple Turtle tonight.

And so it continued until 4AM! The craziest thing is that when I looked ashore closely around 2AM, there didn’t appear to be anybody at the bar, but the music was blaring across the bay at sonic boom levels. Sheesh. So we slept in a little and didn’t get quite the early jump we’d hoped for - the wind was whistling too, so it looks like Marie-Gallant will have to wait until another time, we’re on our way to Les Saintes. Goodbye Dominica!

Martinique Redux

The last time we were in Martinique there was an island-wide general strike underway, and we left the morning after we heard gunshots in the night, only to have a wild and wooly sail to St. Lucia, with the highest winds and biggest seas we’ve seen on the whole trip. We approached that same body of water with a better weather forecast and the knowledge that it can get a little crazy out there. This time as we slipped north from St. Lucia the wind and seas started to build as expected, and we saw a couple other boats going too.

Within half an hour of leaving Rodney Bay we were smoking along at eight knots over the bottom, with a double reefed main and about half the jib rolled up. The wind (around 20 knots) and seas (approx 5-6’) were just forward of the beam, so it wasn’t too bad, but the combination made steering strenuous, so I took over from Emmy. The next two hours saw more of the same, and the GPS showed we were making 8.6-8.7 knots, pretty quick for a forty footer, so it looked like we were enjoying a favorable current. St. Lucia rapidly shrank and then disappeared behind, while Martinique quickly grew in size and definition up ahead. My shoulders were starting to talk to me as we reached the lee of Martinique, where the seas and wind began to ease. We pulled into Fort de France after four and a half hours, and happily anchored under the old fort again, thankful for a quick and uneventful passage.

Fort de France had a whole different “vibe” with the strike lifted, with lots of traffic on the streets and people crowding the sidewalks, and all the shops were open for business. Last visit we had some problems getting Customs and Immigration service at the commercial port, and after asking a few people and getting contradictory answers, we were very happy this time to find a “do-it-yourself” clearance computer at a marine supply store in town. I know it sounds crazy, but I just filled in the information about the boat, passports, prior and next port, printed the document and handed it to the clerk in the shop. She gave it a cursory look, signed it and handed it across the counter - we were cleared in and out of Martinique, without showing any documents of any kind!

After we completed Customs formalities we found a little patisserie nearby and had some quiche, tasty pastries and coffee, then Emmy went off exploring the shops in town while I shuttled jerry jugs of diesel to the boat from a funky little marina nearby. Fort de France itself seems a little past its prime, but is vibrant, alive and real. We didn’t have much on “the list,” but the open air market had a great selection of fresh local veggies and fruit, and it’s hard to be on a French island without picking up some fresh bread (baguette) and cheese. Oh yeah, we also needed another bottle of that ten year old Clemant rum! As we walked around we came to realize that there are a lot of strikingly attractive people here, and the Martinician people we met were quite friendly, and very forgiving of our pretty thin grasp of French.

Now that we’re getting into Spring the frequency and strength of north swell events has thankfully tailed off a bit, and it was tempting to stop off at St. Pierre on the way north, which would shorten the longish passage up to Dominica, but we were enjoying snooping around Fort de France so much that we opted to hang around there instead, and then make the 68 mile hop all the way up to Portsmouth. The forecast looked good, so at first light we bid au revoir to La Madinina (the old name for Martinique), and headed north…sigh.

St. Lucia North Bound

The passage from Bequia to Rodney Bay, St. Lucia was a long one (72 nautical miles), as we again decided to pass St. Vincent by. One day I would like to give St. Vincent a try though, it looks so unbelievably rugged, green and beautiful. We had a fairly good day of sailing, and then motor sailing along the lee of St. Lucia, but as sunset neared we considered stopping at Marigot. As we got closer though, we watched as a couple of boats headed into the narrow entrance only to come right back out a few minutes later. As we pulled abeam of the entrance we could see the reason why, as the entire harbor was full - no room at the inn - so we had to push on to Rodney Bay after all, a wonderful harbor but one we would have to enter at night, always an interesting prospect!

We had been in and out of Rodney Bay before of course, we had decent charts, and the electronic chart plotter showed good detail, but it was still a little nerve-wracking as twilight faded into darkness (no moon), and the lights on shore mixed with the navigation lights marking a few rocks and reefs. We talked through what we expected to see and do, and as the harbor opened up in front of us we could see the anchor lights of a couple dozen other sailboats. We eased in slowly, trying to make sure we didn’t run into any unlit boats, buoys or fish pots, and closely watched the depth finder. We found a spot that seemed pretty good, and dropped anchor after 14 hours underway. The bliss you’re filled with upon reaching a calm, snug anchorage after a long day at sea is hard to adequately describe, but believe me, it’s sweet!

The Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC) is an event that gathers together over 100 yachts from small to large, to sail together in the fall from Europe to Rodney Bay, St. Lucia. Then everybody sails around the Caribbean for the season, some race, some cruise, and then they gather back at Rodney Bay in the Spring to sail back to Europe. So you come across a lot of interesting boats and people here who have actually crossed the Atlantic, no mean feat in itself. As we discovered on our way south, there’s also a good marine supply store, laundry, grocery shopping, etc., so it’s a very handy place to take care of items on “The List,” There’s always a list. We had one, and started checking things off.

We also decided to rent a car and buzz around the island to do some sightseeing, because we never got around to that the last time we were here. We drive on the left side on St. Croix, so that part is pretty easy, to get used to, but here most of the cars have their steering wheel on the right side of the car, which is an odd sensation for both the driver AND the front seat passenger! Some of the controls are located differently too (I frequently hit the wipers when I wanted to use the turn signals).

We drove east across the mid-section of the island, up a winding road into the rain forest, with giant tree ferns and bamboo, and enjoyed some wonderful vistas. We then dropped down to the eastern coast and made our way south to Vieux Fort, and then started up the west coast towards the Pitons. If you’ve been following, you may recall we spent an awful, rolly night anchored at the base of the Pitons, and we didn’t get to see the famous Jalousie hotel ashore there…so we decided to make a stop by car! It’s another one of those places that’s difficult to adequately describe, a quintessential small Caribbean resort in an overpowering natural setting. Pictures can’t really do justice to the overwhelming sensation of vertigo you experience walking around at the foot of the sheer cliffs of these towering behemoths.

The resort itself “needs a coat of paint” and some TLC, but just building it was obviously a labor of love and an outrageous accomplishment, and very nicely done…let’s hope the new owners have the vision (and deep enough pockets) to bring it back. We got back on the coast road and headed north again. following its zigs and zags as it wound its way around dozens of cliffs, ravines and canyons. Many little shacks along the way had a table and chairs set out, and a sign proclaiming so-and so’s bar, hoping to entice travelers to stop for a drink and look out across the Caribbean. We did stop at a little craft shop run by a Rasta, that had a fantastic view and was filled with lots of pretty nice artwork and handicrafts.

One of the things that this trip helped remind me/reinforce, is how much French influence there is on St. Lucia, and on many of the “English speaking” islands in the Caribbean. Most of the islands changed hands numerous times in the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Many of the towns along the way have very French sounding names, and the local folks speak a patois in addition to the Caribbean flavored English. As the sun set we still had a few miles to go, when the gas tank reserve light came on, adding just a little more excitement to the trip…no gas stations on this part of the coast! We finally made it out of the mountains and found a gas station, then drove through Castries and on up to Rodney Bay. We stopped off at an Indian restaurant in the touristy/hotel part of town, and had a pretty tasty dinner.

The next day we dragged the sewing machine out and Emmy repaired the sail cover, bimini and restitched and reinforced the outboard sling (remember that?), while I scrubbed the bottom of the boat and worked on items on our list. All the while we monitored the weather, and after a few days things looked good for our departure to Martinque, so we got ready to go.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to all you wonderful souls who share a birthday with me.

From Blossoms

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the joy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

Li-Young Lee

The Tobago Cays

Wow! I’d heard for years that the Tobago Cays were special, and the photos I’d seen seemed to back that up, but gee whiz these little cays and the surrounding waters are beautiful. Just a handful of dinky little islands, surrounded by that crystal clear and shallow green water advertising companies like so much, a few perfect little white sand beaches, reefs teaming with fish and breaking the swell, so the anchorages are pretty calm…hard to ask for much more!

Okay, there are a lot of other boats here, but these days there are a lot of boats almost everywhere. I’m sure it was more pristine 30 years ago, but that was then, this is now. We’ve not been to a prettier spot anywhere in the Caribbean. As we jumped in the water off the boat, Emmy popped right back up and pointed to an Eagle Ray swimming under the boat. We took dinghy over to one of the little islets, beached the dinghy on a neat little cove, and hiked up to the top to catch a great view and take some pix. Hiking along the trail Emmy had a “Close Encounter” with a large Iguana, and I had to fearlessly drive him off by throwing pebbles at him…just like Iguana Jones!

Then we snorkeled along one of the large reefs, and saw lots of tropical fish, coral, sea fans and quite a few turtles. Emmy also spotted more “Flamingo Tongues,” a kind of mollusk, than she’d ever seen before. The whole area has been declared a National Park of St. Vincent and the Grenadines, so with a little luck they’ll be able to keep things in good shape.
There are no restaurants in the area, but licensed “Boat Boys” come by in the morning selling fresh French bread and ice, later in the day offering fresh fish and still wiggling lobsters. I don’t think words are the right way to communicate the essence of this place, so will let the pictures do the talking.

This marks the southern terminus of our trip, as we need to turn north now and start making our way home, but we’d love to return here in the future and spend some more time exploring the nooks and crannies in the Tobago Cays and the rest of the Grenadines. I think you could easily spend a couple months in this area without getting bored. We also didn’t make it to Grenada, so maybe we’ll add it to the list for next time too. For now it’s back to Bequia for a couple of days. The saga continues…