La Belle St. Barthelemy

It’s only about 15 miles as the pelican flies from St. Maarten to St. Barths, as we left Simpson Bay the island of Saba was shrouded in clouds off to starboard, Statia and St. Kitts were just barely visible further south in the hazy distance. The passage over was not the greatest, as we couldn’t quite lay St. Barths and were close hauled in 15-20 knots of gusty wind, punching into the 6-8’ lumpy and confused seas between the islands. It was a little like being stuck in a washing machine, Emmy began to look a little green and wound up “feeding the fish,“ as we motored in the last couple of miles.

When we arrived at Gustavia shortly before 5 PM we found the anchorages full of boats, both large and small, the wind whistling through the outer harbor with enough swell running to cause even the largest sailing yachts to rock like giant pendulums. We found a spot that was a little closer to a couple other boats than I’d prefer, but with not a lot of light left and few choices we dropped anchor and snubbed it up.

The next morning we put the dinghy in the water (we usually carry it on deck when sailing), and went ashore to clear Customs and reacquaint ourselves with Gustavia. It had been a year and a half since our last visit, but just as then the entry process was a miracle of simplicity and friendly helpfulness. We showed our passports and boat registration, filled out a couple of forms, and when I said I wasn’t sure how long we would be staying, the officer said to just come back when we wanted to check out, and wished us a pleasant stay…it’s nice feeling like welcome guests, and not some kind of probable criminal/terrorists!

We strolled down the quay and settled into a little restaurant right on the inner harbor for lunch, overlooking lovely classic yachts, with quaint red-roofed buildings and gardens covering the surrounding hillsides. Sounds pretty good, huh? Okay, here’s the bad news…two sandwiches, one cup of soup, one bottle of sparkling water, $70 USD. Gulp. St. Barths, especially in high season, is often a little tough on the wallet.

For “high season” the shops and restaurants seemed kind of quiet, and like every island we’ve visited so far on this trip, conversations with locals often turns to the difficult season, and the fact that there are fewer visitors and most of the folks who are coming are spending less freely. Not surprising I suppose, given the current economic climate, but interesting to see the widespread effects across the region. Even the dock setup for mega yachts was less than half filled during our stay.

The next day we took the dinghy around to the bay at Columbier, a truly lovely spot and a decided favorite, to scout it out with the idea of bringing Avalon over, but the swell looked worse than even in Gustavia harbor. We did see several big sea turtles (same as last visit) and later tracked down our old friend Yves and his wife Anne, and had a fun evening at “Le Select,” an infamous little bar where we had a surprisingly good (and affordable!) dinner of fresh fish and a few beverages.

A couple afternoons were well spent on the beach at Baie St. Jean, which we reached by a hilly walk from town (good for the legs!), that takes you through the narrow notch that airplanes must fly through to land at one of the most extreme airports you’ll find anywhere. With a super short runway that ends right at the beach, no jets at all are allowed, and you can’t help but stop and watch when a plane is coming in for a landing!

Probably one of the Caribbean’s “chicest” islands, St. Barths is home to lots of small electric cars, which have replaced the venerable Mini Moke as transportation of choice. There’s also a pretty strong emphasis on living a “Green” lifestyle, and a big shock to me, the French (at least here on St. Barths) seem to be changing their views on smoking a little, with a few no smoking restaurants, and smokers going outside to smoke. Amazing! Many stores and shops close for a couple of hours for lunch, which can be disconcerting at first, but you get used to it.

The weather forecasts indicate a slight moderation, so we’re going to head to St. Kitts next (approx 45 miles away), will send the next update from there - Au revoir

St. Martin/St. Maarten

St. Maarten/St. Martin has pretty much become ground zero for “mega-yacht” operations in the Caribbean, with several marinas inside the lagoon devoted to these 100’ plus sail and motor yachts. In order to get into the sheltered water inside the spacious lagoon one must pass through a drawbridge, and the parade of yachts passing through the narrow bridge is great fun to watch.

Right on the lagoon, and with their own docks are two large marine supply stores, and a great hardware store is just up the street. Good grocery stores are a short ride, there’s a movie theater, tons of restaurants and various shops, a bunch of casinos, banks, internet cafes, etc., etc. Not exactly a quiet, remote setting, but if you can’t get what you need here, you’re in trouble!

The winter ground swells, caused by storms in the North Atlantic, plague many/most anchorages in the Caribbean at this time of year, so the relatively calm waters of the lagoon are a treat. On the down side, the major airport on the Dutch side of the island provides a steady stream of jets taking off right over the main anchorage throughout the day and into the early evening. Thankfully they don’t seem to have much in the way of nighttime air traffic!

We dinghied over to Marigot on the French side (only about a mile and a half from where we anchored) a couple of times for some coffee, pastries, shopping and people watching. We also found a little internet café in Simpson Bay (Dutch side), and got in the habit of stopping by once day for free wifi and cappuccino, and otherwise busied ourselves with little boat projects. One day we rented a car and drove around the island, sightseeing. The island has become quite built up over the years, and is pretty varied.

We met up with our friends Laura and Roland Richardson at their gallery in Marigot, and later had dinner at their lovely home along with their daughter Radiance. We were treated to an exploration of Roland’s studio, great food (prepared by the artist ), stimulating conversation (thank you Radiance), and a good ration of champagne. An evening of true Caribbean Hopitality (thank you Mrs. Richardson). We hope to stop and see them again on our way back to St. Croix in a few months!

After a week it was time to move on, so we joined the procession of yachts headed through the bridge at 0900 on 1/10/09, following “Princess Marianna,” that only had about a foot to spare on either side of the bridge, and is equipped with its own helicopter! On we go to St. Barths, about 15 miles away.

Crossing the Anegada Passage

Headed east, and crossing the Anegada Passage

After spending a couple of fun, but pretty windy weeks in Culebra and Vieques, (saw two green flashes at sunset from the boat while in Vieques!) the weather forecast started to sound just a little better a few days after Christmas, so we began the slog eastward bright and early December 29. First motorsailed up to the tip of Vieques, wind dead on the nose and kind of choppy seas for a dozen miles, then a nice reach up to Culebra, and sailed into the lovely calm harbor there.

We could easily have stayed in Culebra a couple days (it‘s a nice place!), but we knew fine weather had been a rare commodity for a few weeks, so we were up and at ‘em again the next morning, and had a nice mellow passage over to St. Thomas. The main harbor was pretty busy, what with seaplanes, ferries and cruise ships dancing all around us, but we bobbed and weaved, and found a nice spot to anchor between the Coast Guard dock and the new Yacht Have Grande. Dropped the dinghy in the water and buzzed over to the seaplane office to pick up our mail, which Valentina had sent over that morning (Thanks!), then headed to Cost U Less and Home Depot to pick up a few items on our list.

That evening we met up with Candela and Enrique, old friends of Emmy’s, and went to their house up in the hills overlooking the harbor, and met their new twins, Pedro Enrique and Aurora Dulce! Then we all went for a great dinner at Harbour View, and dragged ourselves back aboard a little later than usual.

The weather continued fine, so we got under way in the morning (mmm…perhaps a little later than the day before?), heading for Virgin Gorda in the BVI. We got lucky and caught a favorable current and wind, and by lunchtime we were only ten miles away.
I mentioned to Emmy that perhaps we should just keep going, and she said she was wondering the same thing! There were pros & cons, but we decided to go for it…and cross the Anegada Passage (more on that later) on New Years Eve! We got a few miles out, and while the seas were fairly calm I decided to do a routine engine check, as the last time we crossed the Anegada we had overheating problems with the engine. Low and behold I found a small puddle of what looked and smelled like transmission fluid (not sure what it tastes like) in a sump under the engine…hmmm….never saw that before.

I checked the fluid level in the transmission (not a easy task while at sea!), and it was hard to get a good reading but looked like it might be low. I looked in the locker where we keep oil, cleaners, thinners, etc., and…and…“Honey, where is that transmission fluid I got before we left?” Seems I’d forgotten it at home in the storage container L . Soooo, trying to err on the side of caution we turned around and went to the marina at Virgin Gorda as originally planned.

New Years Eve was full of whump-whump music and fireworks, so we didn’t exactly get a great night’s sleep, and the next morning found us a little groggy (again?). Swallowed some coffee, then carefully checked the transmission, and the fluid level looked pretty close to correct. Bought some transmission fluid for safety sake, topped off water and fuel, got some ice, checked the weather (good forecast, but expected to deteriorate the following day), so it was once again time to hit the big blue highway.

We were motorsailing again, because the light winds on the nose would have meant a looooong slow sail to St. Maarten. A little about the Anegada Passage: it’s infamous as one of the more cantankerous stretched of water in the whole Caribbean. Big, choppy and confused seas are common, along with strong & weird currents and eddies. Lots of foreign ship traffic too. We had about 80 miles to cover to reach St. Maarten, and I didn’t want to lolligag out there. I really hate making an unfamiliar landfall at night (too many poorly charted, unlit rocks, reefs, wreaks, boats, floating junk, fish traps, etc.), and based on boat speed there’s just no way we could get to St. Maarten before dark if we left in the morning, so it would be an overnighter for us.

We didn’t use a formal watch schedule as such - Curious George our autopilot was behaving well steering the boat, so we took turns keeping watch and napping throughout the night. The sky was overflowing with stars, and the broad smudge of the Milky Way stretched over us like a canopy, while the sails shone moonlit, the engine rumbled under our feet, with our wake streaming behind us lit by phosphorescent plankton. Several satellites passed overhead, and by 10 PM the loom of St. Maarten was obvious on the horizon ahead. These days you can usually see the reflected light of populated landmasses way out to sea, one more thing that’s changed a lot in the last 30-40 years.

Only a few other boats were out there that night, and while we didn’t have any close encounters, keeping an eye on them did help keep us awake! The wind and seas started picking up a little as they funneled through the area between Anguilla and St. Maarten, but we made good time, and arrived at Simpson Bay around 8 AM - Yay! Nice having this jump behind us.

The Plan

The basic idea is to spend a couple of months getting Avalon (and ourselves) ready to go, then start with a little “shakedown cruise” to Culebra and Vieques for a couple of weeks to push the boat around a little and see if any weaknesses pop up and check how well recent changes are working (i.e., CNG/Propane switch, new SSB radio, autopilot rebuild, etc.). Then start heading east - if we need to return to St. Croix, or stop in St. Thomas or Tortola to straighten something out, no problem it’s right along the way.

Weather will be a primary consideration for us for the whole trip. I’m confident in the boat and the crew, and if we run into some bad whether when we’re out there, okay, but we won’t be departing on any of our legs without at least a decent weather forecast. Another factor of course is the boat - if she’s broken or not right, we’re going to fix her. And lastly, there’s the human element. We need to be healthy to make this safe, and it’s supposed to be fun…if we get sick, tired, or just aren’t having fun, it’s time to stop and reconsider.

All the above leads to the jump across the Anegada Passage, between the BVI and Anguilla/St. Maarten/St. Barths, one of the more notorious parts of the Caribbean. Famous for big, confused seas, and foul and weird currents, there’s about 80 nautical miles of water to cross, and I very much dislike making night landfalls (I‘ve seen too many disasters), so we’ll be making the crossing at night.

We don’t plan on calling on Anguilla on this cruise, but instead will aim for St. Maarten, and will probably stay a week or so, then head to St. Barth’s, one of our favorite’s. I imagine we’ll be there at least a week before heading further south (again, depending on weather) towards St. Kitts and Nevis, then probably Antigua. After that comes Guadeloupe, then a tiny chain of islands I last visited 30 years ago, Les Saintes.

Next is Dominica, followed by Martinique, and then St. Lucia, St. Vincent, and then the Grenadines (sort of our southern goal) and finally Grenada. Hard to say how much or how little time we’ll spend in these islands…but we’d like to be back to St. Croix around the first of April. We may find that we really want to spend a little more time at one spot or another on our way back north. I’d really like to stop at Barbuda, as I’ve only seen it in the hazy distance while taking off from Antigua (and the beaches and diving are supposed to be fantastic).
So that’s it. “But why?” you may ask? Well, the world is changing pretty fast, we all seem to be getting older pretty fast, we’re both interested in exploring the real Caribbean as it is today, and it seems like a pretty cool adventure! No, not the Amazon or Patagonia, but it still feels pretty adventuresome, and of course there’s the old, “If not now, when?” question. The timing seems right, and Lord knows if we’ll be given another chance like this in the future. Would it be safer to sit home and watch CNN and Oprah? Sure. Are there risks? Yup, but there are risks driving our cars.

I seem to remember reading somewhere that many older folks spend a lot of time thinking about the things they wish they had done when they were younger and more able, and surprisingly little time thinking about the mistakes they made in their lives.

Here we go!