On the Hard
Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou
12.27.165N
61.29.246W

Dale contacted Roy, the haul out’s manager, to make sure we were a go for being hauled today. Roy confirmed that the boat currently on jack stands in the yard (on the hard) next to the water would be returned by lunchtime and that we would take their place right after lunch. About a quarter to noon, we saw the travel lift ease the boat back into the water.

The rest of the morning Dale paced. He got lines out and attached them at various places around the boat. He arranged and rearranged fenders. He put a bungee on our wind generator and then both of us took down the SSB’s 23’ whip antenna and laid it along the deck. He tried to sit for awhile, then he got up and paced some more. Finally at about a quarter after 1, he asked if I thought he should call and advise them that we were ready. I asked him what arrangements had been made; he said that they were to call us when they returned from lunch. I suggested that we wait until 1:30, then call them; remember: island time.

At 1:30, practically on the dot, we were hailed on the radio and told to make our way to the haul out slip.

We wore our radio head sets to keep the shouting to a minimum and with Dale on the bow, we made our way around the reef protecting the slip (there are reefs everywhere!!). I read out the depth as we approached the slip. Ten feet, 9’, 8’, 7’, 6.5’ (we draw 5.5’) we gingerly edged our way in and came along the pier on our port side (per their instructions).

Roy and Edwin, the senior worker, grabbed our dock lines and then carefully pivoted us around our bow until we were starboard side to and then walked us back into the travel lift. They have obviously done this before.

The straps to the lift were carefully paced underneath Gypsy Palace’s belly and slowly she was lifted and backed out of the water to an area where her bottom was pressure washed. What few barnacles were still attached were scraped off (remember, we scrub down on the 1st of each month) and then she was moved to the outside section and placed on jack stands. Actually, the only place there was much growth, was on the very bottom of the winged keel. Roy was tickled to see our back and blue patchwork hull and teased Dale that he had only ordered black for our new paint.

We had previously told Roy and Susan that we wanted to stay aboard the Palace during the haul out time and they suggested waiting until the outside slot was available so that we would have the full benefit of the sun (for our solar power) and the wind (for air flow).

We closed off all overboard seacocks and I put bowls in each of the sinks and buckets in front on the floor to remind us not to send water overboard. The only thing we had to do differently, was buy block ice each day for the refrigerator and freezer. With holding tanks, solar and wind generation, and a 10 foot ladder, we’re a self contained unit. Tomorrow we’ll start the painting process.

Later, we dinghied to the Twilight Restaurant for a chicken dinner. We met George, Natalie and Antonia, their 7 year old daughter, a German family making their way to Venezuela for hurricane season. George is fluent in Spanish, English, French as well as his native German. Natalie spoke excellent English as did their daughter, who spoke without a trace of an accent and often back and forth between both languages in the same sentence. I would have liked spending more time with them but they are leaving first thing in the morning and most likely, will continue their journey around to Panama and over to the Pacific.

We watched bats fill the air at nightfall as we headed back to the Palace; a few minutes later, they were gone. It was really quite impressive. I made a mental note to make sure all of the screens were in place before we turned in for the night in case one got lost on his way back to the cave in the morning.

Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou
12.27.349N
61.29.254W

Today was much like yesterday, beautiful but with enough rain to keep you hopping up to either open the hatches or close them.

Dale and I watched the movie Finding Neverland and then all of the ‘special features’ they add to the DVD. We’d not seen the movie before and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou
12.27.349N
61.29.254W

Although today was another beautiful day, punctuated by the occasional spritz of rain, Dale had his nose poked in a Robert Ludlum book (The Sigma Protocol) and I had mine in a book called Life of Pi by Yann Martel.

People started telling me about this book before we left and many have mentioned it since, so in one of my book trades, I picked up a copy. It’s the kind of book that would be great read in a book club or literature class. Discussions regarding its meaning or hidden meanings, storytelling and writing style, would last forever.

Fortunately, I won’t bore you with a book report.

Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou
12.27.349N
61.29.254W

Today’s major project was locating a bank in which to withdraw some EC (Eastern Caribbean) dollars. We took the dinghy into the haul out facility where we met a couple of Canadians named Denis & Arleen off Tiger Lily II. They told us that the nearest bank was located back in Hillsborough; we’d need to take a bus. They also told us where to catch the local bus and that it would cost $3EC each to go to Hillsborough. We had just enough.

The “bus” was a bright red minivan (at least the one we got on). We asked the driver if he drove to Hillsborough on his route; he did. We asked if he knew whether the bank was open on a Friday; it was until 3:00. We had no idea what time it was or if we would have enough time to get there; he told us that it was 2:00 and that there was more than enough time to get there. So we gave him our $6EC and climbed in.

He drove the rest of the way down the “main” road in town and then through some of the smaller side streets. Some of the roads he traveled down were dead ends where he would have to turn his minivan around in the middle of the road and head back the way he came. People on the “bus” were dropped off at their doors. He tooted his horn as he passed people; some would ignore him, others would wave which would cause him to screech to a halt and wait for them to board the “bus”.

He stopped at a grocery store where there were four cases of beer stacked in front of it near the street. He loaded the cases into the back and continued our journey. He stopped in front of a group of men playing dominos. He sent one of the riders over to them with a fist full of money who would then run back to the “bus” with a slip of paper.

We made steady progress towards Hillsborough but we had many, many stops; being compulsive, I kept my eye on the clock. Eventually, we came to another grocery store where the cases of beer were off loaded. We continued on to another group of men, where the slip of paper was given to them. All the while, people were getting on and off the bus.

As we approached Hillsborough, at 2:50, I asked if he would direct us to the bank; he dropped us off in front of the bank and then told us that when we wanted to return, to go the next corner to catch another “bus”.

We crossed the street and entered the bank. Dale spotted an ATM in the corner and we were out within 3 minutes. We headed to the corner and caught the same “bus” for our return trip. Mr. Putty commented on how quickly we had completed our transaction. Dale told him that when you have no money, it makes it easy. We were directed to the back of the “bus”.

We were obviously in rush hour in Hillsborough as all of the school children in their uniforms crowded the streets with those who were apparently getting off work. Mr. Putty filled the “bus” in my estimation to capacity. Then he started adding seats between the benches and the single drop down seats and stuffed a few more in.

We wove our way back to Tyrell Bay dropping off one or two here and picking up two or three there. We stopped one time when a pack of dogs chasing a goat caught Mr. Putty’s eye. He stopped the “bus” in the middle of the road, hurriedly climbed out with another man and together they grabbed rocks, empty bottles or whatever they could to chase the dogs away from the livestock. This village not only watches over each other’s children but their livestock too. I was impressed.

As we approached our stop and then passed it, I suddenly realized, we didn’t know how to let him know we wanted to get off the bus. So I just shouted “Mr. Putty, we need to get off here, please.” It worked but later in the evening, we were told that you knock on the side panel. We were also told later that the “Mr. Putty” (clearly written on the back of his seat) was actually pronounced Pootee, not the way that I said it.

It was at the Lambi Queen, where we had gone for dinner, that we learned of our various faux pas. We had been told that on Friday evenings, the Lambi (the local word for conch) Queen had live entertainment which was well worth the trip in. We met Rick & Carolyn (two more Canadians) who were more than a little excited to be back in Carriacou. I suspect that they will eventually build a home here.

While we sat with them, they told us the backgrounds of the various entertainers. Carolyn definitely had her finger on the pulse of the town. The evening started off with a very talented acoustic guitar player and two drummers; one on a regular set of drums and the second on a large type of bongo drum. These musicians were joined by a German woman who used to belong to a drum corps in Germany but whose husband was now working here as an electrician, so she asked the bongo man to teach her how to play this type of drum. She was pretty good.

Another bass type of drum was added by a young man before Carolyn’s favorite, the stick dancer joined them. The stick dancer is a fisherman by day and by night (on the weekends), an incredible dancer/juggler/entertainer.

While the stick dancer took a break, the bongo man did his act which involved slowly folding his arms and legs into a fashion that the Circus de Ole would be proud.

All in all, very entertaining. And the barbeque chicken wasn’t bad either.

Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou
12.27.349N
61.29.254W

This morning dawned as another beautiful day in paradise. I’m disappointed that we are leaving the Tobago Cays so soon but since we are checked out already, we’d better start moving.

We threaded our way out the southern route through the Cays among the islands, reefs and coral heads. Not really all that difficult since everything was visible in the crystal clear waters. We pointed our bows south and headed to Carriacou; geographically a separate island but politically, a part of Grenada.

The sail was as perfect as they come. Fifteen to 18kts with flat seas and hardly more than a 5 degree list. We hummed along at 7+ kts. When we dropped down to 6.5, it felt as if we had thrown out an anchor. Fun, fun, fun.

However, this was the last day our little convoy would be together. When we left the anchorage this morning, we knew that if the conditions were right, DocNoMore, Foreclosure and Cloud Nine would continue on the leeward side to the south of Grenada to wait for a weather window to cross over to Trinidad and, like I said, you couldn’t get much better weather than we had today. Exit Strategy and another boat named Break & Run (who we haven’t met) came with us toward Carriacou but only planned on spending the night before taking a different route along the windward side of Grenada to Trinidad nonstop.

We pulled into Hillsborough, Carriacou for an hour to clear customs into Carriaco/Grenada but then continued on to Tyrrel Bay where we heard that there was a fairly new haul out facility that could paint the bottom of our boat. Those who have spent some time in Trinidad and Venezuela keep telling us stories of rising costs and hard to get haul out dates, so this option was looking better and better.

Tyrrel Bay is another large open harbor with a sleepy fishing village feel to it. We dinghied to the haul out facility where we met Susan and Roy, the transplanted Floridians who manage it and made arrangements to have the boat hauled on Monday. We’ll be able to stay on the Palace while the work is being done or if we get frustrated, there are a couple of little air conditioned cottages that we can rent nearby.

With our business completed, we walked down the beach to a pizzeria where Agnes and Lloydia served up two tasty little pizzas. We also met Robert & Wendy there, two retirees from England, who have been living here for 17 years and had a nice conversation about why they had chosen Carriacou as their retirement home.

I feel good about this little village. The people are friendly and appear to like having cruisers in their presence. So, I look forward to spending the next week or so here.

Horseshoe Reef,
Tobago Cays
12.27.838N
61.21.427W

The front finished moving through last night bringing winds in excess of 30kts. The rains that came with the squalls really didn’t amount to very much. Still we felt as if we were hanging on to the tail end of a kite. Thank heavens, no one (that I’m aware of) dragged anchor.

This morning was still pretty blustery but the guys (Dale, Roger, Bob, Tom & Don) negotiated a ride with one of the boat boys to Union Island to check out, instead of all of us having to hoist anchor, move a couple of miles, set anchor, and clear out.

When he left, Dale had balked at my idea of taking his SOSpenders (an inflatable life jacket) but when he returned he said that he had been glad he had it. He described the ride as being another of Mr. Toad’s Wild Rides. The colorful little skiff only had two speeds - full throttle and coasting up to the dock. He said that at one point they hit a wave so hard that the emergency lanyard that connects the driver to the outboard motor pulled out. When they returned, all of the guys were telling of how they were holding on for dear life for fear that the skiff would flip if it hit a wave wrong. However, they were all glad that they had cleared out without a hitch and were back in record time.

While Dale was gone, I took the opportunity to remove all of the cushions and clean the cockpit. After we scrubbed the deck yesterday, the protected area was looking a little grungy. Between the two of us, there was enough hair in the corners to make a wig. Gross!

Once the sun came out in earnest, I wanted to go snorkeling again, but Dale declined saying that the winds and waves would have clouded the water to the point where the visibility would have been severely decreased. Needless to say, the Tobago Cays are on our ‘must-do again’ list.

We spent the rest of the day reading or in my case, writing. Tomorrow we’ll head to Carriacou. We’ve heard good things about the yard there but Dale wants to see it for himself before we commit to a reservation for a haul out to paint the bottom. If that’s the case, we’ll be breaking off from the rest of the group should we decide to stay, as they have more of a time constraint than we do.

Horseshoe Reef,
Tobago Cays
12.27.838N
61.21.427W

Welcome to the world, Heather Bryce Boyd, our newest granddaughter! We can’t wait to meet you! Congratulations Kyle and Veronica on the newest addition to your family. Valerie and Alayna, you two are so special to be blessed with a new baby sister.

We had started our day heading back out to the reef for another snorkel before the weather turned bad. We picked another location and, as yesterday, were mesmerized with the sights around us. I hit the books as soon as I returned yesterday trying to identify all that we had seen, so now I knew that it was green grape algae and watercress algae that was so bountiful in this area. A little 3-4” longfin damselfish took exception to Dale trying to reach a shell near its territory and would strike out against his glove. Have you ever heard yourself giggling underwater?

I started watching for Blenny and Gobi, the tiny fish that make their home in the coral. They come out of where they reside in the coral and perch themselves up on their pectoral fins looking out at the passing watery world. The Redlip Blenny was colorful enough to draw my attention. After that I started noticing that there were lots of different kinds of Blenny but the Redlip one with its orange fins and red lipstick was easy to spot.

I had followed Dale around for the first part of our trip and when it was my turn to lead, I started following some of the deeper paths so that I didn’t have to keep tucking my tummy up as we passed over coral that may have left a lasting impression should I make the mistake of touching the wrong one. I was wearing my magic dive gloves which, of course, make me invincible or at least braver when I have to reach out for something that might be yucky.

We passed a couple of small Permit, which according to my book, must have come in from the deeper water to feed on the crustaceans on the reef. I’m not sure how I did it but somehow I led us to the outside of the reef. Once again the wonder that was before us was beyond description. The colorful wall of the reef fell into a neon blue abyss. The scene was like those you only see in movies. We were awestruck again.

We followed it for a while until I noticed that Dale was trying to catch my attention; the foul weather we had been waiting for was approaching. I turned in the direction he indicated and tried to thread my way back through the reef but promptly realized that where I was, was too shallow to cross. I tried to turn and go back the way I had come but kept getting bashed by the breaking waves, trapping me where I was.

Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard spot, I didn‘t want to touch the coral and damage it but the larger waves were forcing me into shallower and shallower water. In seconds, it became obvious that it was me or the coral, I tried to keep from getting cut up by using just my gloved hands and finned feet while I made my way back through the waves by pulling myself along the coral (praying I didn’t grab a sea urchin along the way) but the sheer force of the waves would smash over me forcing me down into what I was holding onto. I felt like a rag doll. Dale saw what was happening and let go his purchase further away and came to my rescue. He had to time the waves so that he could dart in and grab me while I swam for all I was worth in his direction.. A couple of bruises and scrapes later and I was free. We swam back the way we had come and found the big hole in the wall to return to our dinghy.

We made it back to the Palace just as the winds reached 30kts and the rain came pelting down. What did we do? We grabbed our long handled brushes and started scrubbing with all of that fresh water of course!

We finished our afternoon between squalls by heading over to Doris & Tom’s boat, Exit Strategy. It was Tom’s 61st birthday and the 10 guests played Mexican Dominos for the rest of the day. Actually, a fun way to spend a rainy afternoon.

Horseshoe Reef,
Tobago Cays
12.27.838N
61.21.427W

We started our day listening for weather and information about the incoming tropical wave and heard hardly more than we had previously; arriving sometime on Tuesday and leaving Wednesday. High waves to diminish by Friday. OK, nothing new, let’s go snorkeling.

We took our dinghy out to where there were little mooring balls placed along the reef. We tied up to one, tugged on our gear, jumped overboard and into an aquarium. Fish, coral, sponges, algae, not the gunky kind but the kind that looks like watercress and strings of peas. It was beautiful; it was great; it was why you learned to dive or snorkel in the first place. Everywhere we looked there was something different and there were miles of it. It was if someone had taken my reference books on reef fish, sea creatures and coral and dumped all of it into one place. I even saw some of the Flamingo Tongue snails and anemones with purple tips. All of it in 4-8’ of water. I could have stayed out there all day but after a couple of hours, Dale was starting to look like a prune.

We headed to one of the little islands that bordered the anchorage next. Dale wanted to climb to the top of the hill so I headed back to the water with Don & Diane off Cloud Nine. The water around the island was pretty boring, just grass and sand. That is until I spotted a couple of turtles.

I had been hovering above hundreds of various sized squid when I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a hawksbill turtle. I approached from behind it and was able hover over it while it ate the grass below. Every couple of minutes or so, it would surface for air and then head back down to graze some more. I was there waiting. I stayed as motionless as I could without drifting away. After a bit, two more turtles joined in the feast. Talk about up close and personal. Wahoo! What a day.

At 4:30, there was a cocktail hour on the beach, so we headed back and cleaned up for that. We met several more cruisers heading either to Trinidad or Venezeula. We watched wind surfers flying across the anchorage and another on a board, parachute surfing. We talked until dark about where we had come from and where we where heading before wading out to our dinghies and returning to our boats.

I know I’ve said it before, but days like this, are why we’re out here.

Horseshoe Reef,
Tobago Cays
12.27.838N
61.21.427W

For the last couple of days, we debated where we wanted to pin ourselves down when the predicted tropical wave came through this area. The winds aren’t supposed to be particularly high but high enough that we wanted to be somewhere safe (forecasts have been known to be wrong).

So this morning, Foreclosure, DocNoMore, Cloud Nine and we hoisted anchor and headed towards the Tobago Cays. Foreclosure had been there before and assured us that although the only protection that we would have is behind a reef, there would be deep sand to set our anchors into, unlike some of the larger island anchorages where the holding is iffy at best. We’d also have the reef to dive for recreation waiting for the wave to pass instead of stuffing our faces in Bequia.
The sail was incredible. Eighteen - 20kts on the beam with relatively flat seas. At one point, we were streaking along at 8.7kts. although generally we were doing between 7-8kts.

The Tobago Cays are hardly more than oversized rocks protected by reefs on each of their windward sides. Once we arrived, we lowered our sails and turned on the engine to weave our way through to the anchorage. I was a little apprehensive at first due to the desert island appearance I could see. I could tell from the chart plotter that we were to enter a channel to pass between two islands and then curve right around one of the islands to pass between it and a third before entering the anchorage. However, from a distance, it all looked like one continuous island.

With Dale on the bow and both of us wearing our radio headsets, we dodged coral heads and what appeared to be shallow spots. We snaked our way through the channel and then turned right. There before us lay the most beautiful anchorage I‘ve ever seen. The water was the electric blue and teal color that we’ve only found in the Bahamas before. The anchorage itself was large. The 3 or 4 small islands that bordered the anchorage were deserted except for on their white sand beaches where we could see a few people here and there. A couple of turtles popped their heads up to see who the newcomers where.

There were already 20 or so boats inside with more than enough room to add a few more with plenty of room to swing. We snuggled as close to the reef as we dared and dropped the hook in 10’ of crystal clear water. Needless to say, it grabbed and sunk in quickly, giving the Palace’s bow that satisfying jerk that tells us that we weren’t going anywhere easily. We let out 10 to 1 scope, preparing for the worse, should it appear.

After a long day of sailing (you know how fresh air and exercise will kill you), we’ll save our exploring until tomorrow and just relax this evening.

Bequia, Grenadines
13.00.640N
61.14.553W

We spent most of today reading. What can I say, some days are slower than others.

We had spoken with DocNoMore, Foreclosure and Wayfinder about going into town for pizza. Foreclosure had invited Cloud Nine; the more the merrier we thought. We dinghied to the dock and hired “Junior” an 11 year old entrepreneur for $1 to keep an eye on our dinghy that we had locked to the pier itself.

We had reservations at a local restaurant for 6:30. At 7:00, Cloud Nine arrived with another 6 people. I though the only waitress for the establishment was going to have a heart attack. A couple of us started rearranging the tables to accommodate the group and we devised a system of ordering where the waitress could keep our orders separate. Within a few minutes, we were all organized and the waitress looked a little less stressed. We had heard other cruisers (mostly British) saying that the Americans were always organizing things. I’d rather say that Americans can’t stand inefficiency for too terribly long.

We sat next to Rick & Carey off Memory. He is ex-Navy who is 1 year post cancer surgery and most recently, a retired Delta pilot. We really enjoyed their company. Carey and I spoke of our love of New Orleans and Dale & Rick discussed the small world of the U.S. Navy.

For the next couple of hours, we had a great time talking with everyone heading south. Most were heading to Trinidad but there were those hell bent on going to Venezuela.

I grant you, this isn’t really a lot to write about but we met 3 more boat crews that are doing what we’re doing and we’re all doing it this particular season. That kind of makes us all part of a small community. Kinda cool all by itself.

Bequia, Grenadines
13.00.640N
61.14.553W

We’re learning that one of the most important prerequisites to cruising is your collection of books that you are willing to exchange. This morning on her way into town Angela off Seafari dropped by to see if I was interested in exchanging books. She had a bag full and I found one that I was interested in. I was able to exchange it with one that was written by the same author. We all seem to take off with an abundance of books and then trade along the way. It’s kind of an interesting way to meet people. I directed her to DocNoMore and Wayfinder who also like to read. She told me of a store in town that keeps a bookshelf full of books that are exchangeable.

She and her husband were leaving Venezuela and were traveling around before heading back to Trinidad for the hurricane season. They had first hand knowledge of some of the things that we had been hearing, so we asked if they would mind if we directed Wayfinder to them when they came in.

Once Wayfinder did arrive, we made sure that they were introduced and that Seafari could relate their experiences to them. Needless to say, things are deteriorating dramatically in Venezuela with regard to American tourists. I had the distinct impression that it was cruisers and the establishments that catered to cruisers that were being targeted. We wanted Wayfinder to know what they were letting themselves in for.

Later in the afternoon, Dale, Roger, Elaine and I went snorkeling in a spot called the Devil’s Table. Although the visibility wasn’t great, there was an abundance of fish, sponges and coral. We did see a couple of different filefish that we hadn’t seen before. I was really pleased to see the schools of silversides that I had always enjoyed in the BVI’s. There were also impressive schools of grunts and tang in the area. We saw a few more Christmas Tree worms that were fun to wave the water around and watch them withdraw into their shells and then re-emerge when the water action subsided and of course, there were a couple of juvenile barracuda to keep you on your toes.

Today was the first that we heard of a tropical wave heading in our direction, so we’ll be watching the weather a little more closely for the next couple of days as we plan to move to the Tobago Keys on Sunday.

Bequia, Grenadines
13.00.640N
61.14.553W

This morning about 7am as Dale sat drinking his morning coffee in the cockpit, Kenmore, the photographer that we had first seen yesterday, came by to drop off a proof sheet of the photographs he had taken together with one that he had enlarged to show the quality of his work. They were very good. We bought one. We believe that Bev is correct in her conviction to spend a little more money to keep those who want to work, employed.

About 8, Dale, Roger & Bob dinghied into Port Elizabeth to check us into Customs. A couple of hours later, Dale & I returned to walk along the town’s quayside, foregoing the usual trip to the local fort on the highest precipice around. I was surprised to find the town so small. We’ve heard quite a few cruisers who, until this year’s insurance changes, preferred to stay here through hurricane season.

It’s really just a cruiser friendly fishing village. The colorful skiffs that weren’t out fishing, were lined up under the palm trees. Some had “TAXI” painted on the bow; others would collect and do your laundry or had fuel to sell. In any event, I noticed that there is a talented artist somewhere about. All of the hand painted signs whether on boats or bars are very pretty. Even the one advertising the pizzeria had a sign with ocean scenes on it.

We located the laundry and garbage drop off (always high on our agenda) and then spotted the fruit and vegetable market. This is where you get the freshest homegrown vegetables and eggs around. I bought a bag of ripe tomatoes from ‘Princess’. Tomorrow as I‘m trying to figure out how to use them all up, I’m sure I’ll question my sanity for not getting them in degrees of ripeness.

When we headed back to the Palace, we decided to move over to the area we had originally wanted to anchor yesterday, since several boats had pulled out today. The three of us are in a tight little group in shallow water; 10’ the shallowest we’ve seen in ages.

Tonight we all got together for an organized potluck (you bring the salad, I’ll bring the starch) on DocNoMore, where we met Sandy & her husband off Caliente. The conversation tonight was more of the experienced guys telling us ‘newbies’ the ins and outs of staying in Trinidad. It sounds like a lot of fun.

Bequia, Grenadines
13.00.640N
61.14.553W

We hoisted sail at 5:30 am this morning and passed between the Pitons into the ocean just as the sun was rising. We had discussed our passage with DocNoMore and Foreclosure regarding whether or not we would stop in St. Vincent on our way south. We all had heard the reports of the occasional burglary or robbery of yachtsmen who had stopped in St. Vincent. For Dale and I, it was the cruising guides that made up our minds with the simple phrase of “predatory individuals”. Another guide advised that taxis could only be hired to go so far before they refused to go any further. We decided that we would just by pass the whole island.

This of course, made for a long day of sailing since the next island in the Grenadines was about 53 miles away across a stretch of water that was likened to that of the Gulf Stream. It could be a walk in the park or something that made you question your sanity.

As luck would have it, it was a walk in the park for us. Leaving so early in the morning allowed us to make it across before the winds really had a chance to fill in. Still the current was a good two knots against us most of the way across. As the winds filled in, we were able to turn off the motor and sail several hours before we came to the first mountain. Then we had to dodge DocNoMore who suddenly appeared to have stopped in front of us while we were still sailing rather quickly in his direction. As soon as we reached his position, we too stopped as if we had snagged a tail hook.

So . . . on came the engines again. While motor sailing along Bequia (Beck-way), the wind came from all directions. We finally gave up and rolled the sails in.

While still quite a ways out, we heard a shrill whistle and saw a little inflatable boat darting in front of us, to the side of us, off to the other side. Each time tooting his little whistle. Our cruising guide had described this, so we knew that it was “Kenmore” the local photographer, who risks his life each day to make his living taking pictures of the boats who come to Bequia. Today was rather calm, but it was reported that he is out in heavy seas just as readily as he was today. We knew that we would be meeting him in the next 24 hours.

We entered Admiralty Bay in the town of Port Elizabeth and began circling around the various anchorages. Since our friends on Foreclosure had been here on several occasions before, they gave us the heads up as to where to anchor. Arriving rather late in the afternoon, there was no room for us, so we ended up taking a mooring in front of an establishment with gingerbread along its roofline.

After each of us was settled, the guys decided that they would check into customs tomorrow and the ladies decided that we would have a quiet dinner on the boat. We are all tired.
Not a whole lot of excitement but definitely a full day.

Jalousie, St. Lucia
13.49.382N
61.03.878W

While I tried to access the internet to order Mother’s Day flowers, Dale & Roger went in to check us out. Two hours later, both of us were steaming. Dale for having to wait for island time to end and me because the internet kept dropping me off line every time I started to get close to finishing my transaction. I can’t tell if my mother is getting one order of flowers or 12.

After Dale returned, we hoisted anchor and exited the lagoon, passed the marina and eased out of the channel that led into our home for the past few days. We turned into the wind and unfurled our sails into what proved to be a great trip. The waves were hardly bigger than ripples and the wind was all over the place. Generally it kept between 10-15 kts but it would drop down to 7 and up to 28 depending upon where we were located in relation to the steep mountains.

We pulled into a large bay to the outside of Petit Piton and with the help of a boat boy, snagged a mooring for about an hour to go snorkeling by the “bat cave”. Its been a while since we’ve snorkeled, so it felt good to get back into the water.

There was an abundant selection of coral, sponges, and fish with every color of the rainbow represented. There were several schools of fish; sergeant majors and others that I didn’t recognize. We saw foureye butterfly fish, blue tang, French grunts, parrotfish, yellow tail snapper, squirrelfish, flounder and the occasional porcupine fish. It was the first time for both of us seeing a spotted drum (a black and white fish with both stripes and polka dots). It was also the first time for me to see a squadron of to squid that appeared to be flying in formation around the reefs. No barracuda. No sharks.

After drying off, we slipped our mooring and circled around Petit Piton so that we were between the two Pitons, Petit and Gross. What a grand sight. There are hardly words to describe the majesty of these sheer mountains which appear to rise straight out of the sea. A few yards off shore, the depths dropped to over 200 feet. We grabbed another mooring at this location and prepared for our dinner ashore at a local restaurant called Harmony Beach, run by Benny & Marcelene and their family.

Little Ben came around in a skiff with the menu so that we could make our selections. Later he returned with some cousins to boat sit while he took us to shore to eat. What a treat. Since it is becoming late in the ‘season’, we were the only ones there. Marcelene prepared a wonderful meal for 6. Each of us had the entrée we selected but then she added just a touch of the island’s produce to each plate. We had a small amount of red cabbage, green cabbage and carrots, together with a slice of plantain, white sweet potato, yam, dasheen, and a couple more vegetables that I can’t remember the names of. This was in addition to the bowls of mixed vegetables and rice that were served family style.

When we paid our bill and prepared to leave, Marcelene and her daughter (learning how to wait tables), gave each of the ladies a grapefruit and a miniature clay pot made by the local artisans as gifts. The trickle down theory in action. They attract the cruisers with their restaurant but bought items from other locals to keep the money circulating in the community.

After dinner, Little Ben came back around in his skiff to take us back to our boats and retrieve the cousins. What a great concept. I didn’t question the need for a boat sitter, since the restaurant and the family came highly recommended. We all had a wonderful time and didn’t worry about a thing.

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
14.04.319N
60.57.157W

Today is our big day of touring St. Lucia. Roger & Elaine picked us up in their dinghy and we met up with Mike & Sara off Wayfinder, Buddy & Melissa off Indigo Moon, and Carol & Wayne off Take Time, outside of Scuttlebutts. Chris, our guide was delighted when his fare of 6 increased to a fare of 10. Our first stop was to pick up a larger minivan.

At our next stop, a look out over the harbor of Castries, Roger was attacked by all of the venders. For some reason or other, he must of looked like a soft target. None of us had an ounce of sympathy and egged the vendors on by calling him Captain. How he escaped without buying beads, t-shirts or a hat is beyond me.

After a couple of more look out stops, we toured a bakery that made cassava bread. Cassava is a root that is ground into flour and shaped into what looks like a thick 6” tortilla. Flavors such as ginger, cherry, apple-raisin, salt-fish, and peanut can be added. Then the bread is baked on top of banana leaves on an huge iron skillet over a wood fire. The end result was a heavy bread that only took a few bites to fill up on.

Some of our other stops took us to a look out over the fishing village of Soufriere, where colorful fishing boats were anchored along the shore. Another was along a banana plantation where the stalks of bananas were enclosed in large plastic bags to keep the sun, bats, and insects off them; after our years of living in Puerto Rico, I didn‘t know that commercial bananas had to be protected in such a way.

We toured a botanical garden which, although was very beautiful, paled in comparison to the two we had previously toured. However, this one had a waterfall that created the warm mineral springs that Empress Josephine used to bathe in. Chris has advised us to bring our bathing suits, so we were prepared to spend the half hour or so soaking in the mineral waters. Although they were invigorating, they didn’t reduce our age by the 15 years as advertised.

Our next stop was at a ‘drive through volcano’. We climbed out of the van, crossed over waterfalls where the water temp ranged from 80-100F. We followed the park guide to where the thick black sulfur water was bubbling up and huge plumes of steam rose over the bubbling pits of the ‘dormant’ volcano. The sulfur aroma was intense, to say the least. It was explained that as long as the gasses are being emitted, instead of building up under the crust, the volcano will not erupt and therefore, it is considered dormant. You already know my thoughts about that.

By this time, we were all ravenous and stopped at Ladera, a restaurant high on an adjacent mountain looking directly across to the famous Pitons of St. Lucia; great meal; better view. Since the restaurant is completely open, they had water pistols on the tables to discourage the birds from scavenging. With a group of 10 aging pirates on an outing, you can imaging where that led. I asked a waiter as we were leaving if they ever had water fights before. He nodded and said “everyday”.

It was about 4 o’clock and although the island of St. Lucia is only 24 miles long, Chris gave us the option of continuing on our circumnavigation of the island (which would take another 4 hours) or call it a day and head back (which would take 2 hours). We were all tired and called it a day.

On Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride back, several of the passengers concentrated on not losing their lunches to the switchbacks and hairpin turns. Since Dale & I were in the back, we only saw when we came within an inch or two of hitting other cars. Melissa, who was sitting in the middle of the second row had a bird‘s eye view of everything and at one point threw her hands up to cover her eyes since she was sure we were going to hitting somebody or something.

As he did before, Chris returned us to the marina safe and sound. A little woozy, some a little nauseous, but safe none the less. We all decided that we had had too big a lunch to worry about dinner. We grabbed an ice cream cone to settle our stomachs and called it a day.

Tomorrow we will once again head south to Soufriere, to the anchorage between the two Piton mountains we saw from the Ladera restaurant. The view should be spectacular.

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
14.04.319N
60.57.157W

Another quiet rainy day on the boat. We dinghied to the marina to scout out a Fed Ex store for mail and then dropped by and said hi to DocNoMore, Wayfinder, and Foreclosure on our way back to the Palace. Then Buddy and Melissa off Indigo Moon dropped by to say hello to us.

All of the boat crews from DocNoMore, Indigo Moon, Foreclosure, Take Time and Gypsy Palace got together on Wayfinder for a potluck dinner later. We discussed our plans of the around the island tour set for tomorrow (Foreclosure had done this previously so declined our invitation) and our eventual plans for heading south.

Dale & I finally received confirmation that we had reservations at a marina in Trinidad from July 1 through the end of September. Once we get there, we’ll be in a better position to decide whether we want to extend our stay or go elsewhere. DocNoMore and Foreclosure will be in a different marina but in Trinidad too. Indigo Moon, Wayfinder and Take Time are planning on heading further south to Puerto LaCruz, Venezuela. There was much discussion regarding the declining atmosphere towards American cruisers in Venezuela, yet our friends seem very determined to go. Dale & I have decided that unless a hurricane forces us further south, we won’t be going to the mainland of Venezuela at all, regardless of insurance boxes.

Roger brought up a very interesting thought. Because of insurance stipulations, everyone is forced into a very small area in the south of the Caribbean. From a risk management standpoint, if boats could spread through out the Caribbean, the chances of a catastrophic loss to the insurance companies would be less. With everyone forced into a limited area, should a hurricane hit, it would be disastrous.

In spite of the seriousness of our conversation, we had a good time and will be watching out for each other on our way south.

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
14.04.319N
60.57.157W

For some reason, today was a rather quite day. Roger & Elaine had gone on another hike in the mountains. Since I had a problem with the heat from our last hike, Dale and I elected to walk through town and out to the beach.

We dubbed one street as restaurant row. There was an Indian restaurant, two Chinese restaurants, an English pub, various bakeries, sandwich shops, a KFC (these are on every island) and finally an open air restaurant named Spinnakers, overlooking the beach.

Our morning’s entertainment came while we watched the driver of a pick up truck having his share of problems. He delivered a load of lumber to an establishment on the beach by driving his truck out onto the beach to drop it off. Then he got stuck. He tried driving parallel to the beach; he tried driving perpendicular. He tried driving almost the entire length and then he tried to run over a mother and her two small children playing in the surf. Finally, two other men ran out to him and somehow got him out. I don’t think it was 15 minutes later when he did it all over again with another load. At that point, the mother and her two small children left the beach. I figured Dale and I were safe behind the coconut palms, but I was prepared to jump and run if he came in our direction.

Later in the day, Mike & Sara off Wayfinder and Buddy & Melissa off Indigo Moon came in. We touched base with them and added them to our list of people interested in taking the around the island tour.

Diane, whom I had previously met on Cloud Nine, introduced me to Barbara, who was on her way north from Trinidad after her husband started having health problems. She was exchanging Trinidad & Tabago dollars for American dollars. I was able to buy a few but certainly not all that she had to offer. At least now we won’t have to run to the ATM as soon as we arrive to have the right currency for paying our customs and immigration fees.

Like I said in the beginning, not a real exciting day.

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
14.04.319N
60.57.157W

Happy Birthday James! We love you and miss you.

It rained most of today, so we walked around the shops of Rodney Bay and the mall that is located off to the side of the lagoon where we are anchored. Neither one of us had ever had a roti before, so we ordered one for lunch. Turns out its a mix of beef and potatoes in a curry sauce rolled up into a tortilla. Yum!

Our original plan was to take a picnic dinner with us to the Jazz Festival but when we found out that Chris wasn’t going to pick us up until after 6:00pm, we decided to eat on the boat before we went.

Boy were we glad that we hired Chris. I don’t think Roger or Dale or any combination of the two would have been able to get us to that festival and find a parking place. The streets are hardly big enough for two cars to pass, but when you start parking cars along the sides it gets downright crazy.

Chris dropped us off at the door and told us that he would pick us back up again at the corner to where the park was. We entered what looked like a baseball field through a single door. We had to open our cooler to show that we only brought unbreakable bottles and leave Dale‘s pocket knife (all 1.5“ of it) with Ross, the big guy in the military uniform at the door. I had vacuum sealed our ponchos so I had to get Ross to open them for us. He was very nice.

We bought some over priced popcorn and headed to the top row on the bleachers. The jazz playing on the PA system was wonderful and we settled in for a relaxing evening of Jazz in the park.

Gus, the manager of the marina restaurant, had told us that the only thing that ever starts on time in St. Lucia is Jazz Festival. He wasn’t wrong. The only problem was . . . It wasn’t any type of jazz that we recognized. They advertised Nancy Wilson, Freddie Cole, (Nate King Cole’s brother), Babyface and some really big names in classical jazz. What we got was reggie (not bad), jump up (what?) socca (some sort of hiphop with African origins), and rap. Now I like some rap but these guys couldn’t sing on tune or speak understandable words. All of it was loud. Very loud. Dale likened it to reggie/rap crossed with a Richard Simmons exercise tape. Everyone was bouncing in place. Bouncing to the left, bouncing to the right. Bouncing up and down with the faint smell of marijuana smoke wafting in the air; at least that‘s what Dale said that it was.

After 3 hours, we decided we’d had enough. I thought Roger would blow a gasket since he is really quite the jazz aficionado but he just grumbled about his ears being numb and that it wasn‘t jazz. Dale & Elaine started jumping around and waving their arms; I just watched, praying that neither one of them would keel over with a heart attack. I collected our little knife from Ross as we headed out the gate and ventured outside and down to the corner. The place was swarming with people. A good number of them, I’d try to avoid at any time of the day much less 11:00 at night.

Thank heavens, as promised, Chris was waiting for us. In the minivan, two other ladies had come to the festival but upon hearing the music from outside the park, they decided they’d just stay in the van.

Chris deposited all of us back at the marina, safe and sound, with the promise that he would be back on Monday at 8:30am to take us on an around the island tour.

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
14.04.319N
60.57.157W

We met up with Roger & Elaine at Skuttlebutts, the restaurant/bar/grill located at the marina. We had met Gus, the manager, yesterday and today we sought out his guidance with regard to purchasing tickets to St. Lucia’s Jazz Festival. He directed us to Chris Joseph, a local taxi/tour guide driver. After a bit of discussion with Chris, it was decided that it would be cheaper and less stressful for us if we hired him to purchase our tickets for us, pick us up, deliver us to the opening day ceremonies in the next town and then return for us later in the evening than it would be for us to rent a car and negotiate these skinny roads on our own. With this task accomplished we were off for a morning hike to St. Lucia’s fort (every island has a fort).

We dinghied out of the channel and along the white sand beach towards Sandals, located on a spit between Pigeon Island and the mainland of St. Lucia. We tied up to the Park’s dock on Pigeon Island, paid our fees and started the climb to top of Ft. Rodney. I am not kidding you when I tell you that part of the hike was completely vertical. There was literally a ladder at the upper most portion of the mountain leading to the fort on top. We decided that it was better to use the majority of our energy climbing to the top and then take our time coming back down.

As with most forts we‘ve explored along our way, it had a great view. We caught our breath, snapped a few pictures, then started back down. There were a couple of lookout spots along the way where we stopped to gaze at the beauty of the islands and water before us. A lady passed by desperately calling ahead to her husband that she needed to stop for a cigarette break; for some reason, that cracked me up.

We descended about half way down the mountain and crossed over to another hill where there was a level spot that had once been some type of barracks; we snapped a few pictures back in the direction that we had come, before descending the rest of the way.

At the bottom of the mountain, one of the buildings still partially standing was the officer quarters. The Park Service has left half of the building in its natural state (a ruin) and the other half has been made into a museum that has a pretty good audio/visual presentation of the Battle of the Saints.

The rest of our walk was out to the end of Pigeon Island where the U.S.Navy had a tracking station during WWII.

After using up all of our energy for one day, we spent the rest of the day, relaxing and reading.

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
14.04.319N
60.57.157W

Do you remember when we were in Culebrita and I described where I pulled on the out furl before I pulled on the out haul, in essence unfurling the main in the mast? Thank heavens it wasn’t me who did it today. We had anticipated hoisting anchor at 7:00am but due to the complication, it was closer to 7:30 before we were able to inch out the sail, lift the anchor off the bottom and chase after DocNoMore who had left on time. Also, lucky for us, it was the only problem we had during the day. It ended up being a great transit. The winds were 12-15kts and the waves were 3-4’; making for a great romp across the passage between the islands.

About 4 hours later and we rounded Pigeon Island and entered into Rodney Bay, St. Lucia. The bay itself is quite large. There is a Sandals Beach Resort along the Pigeon Island side and a beautiful white sand beach running along the town side. With the aid of the chart plotter and the maps in the cruising guide, we were able to locate the tiny but deep channel leading to the marina and its lagoon further inside. From outside the bay looking in, it was rather difficult to discern the opening between the 2 rock jetties that overlapped each other, thereby obscuring the actual passage between them.

We entered the marina area and easily tied up to the fuel dock. We added 55 gallons of diesel to our tanks and prepared to leave when Dale noted that he was given a bill for $48 EC (Eastern Caribbean dollars $2.65=$1 US). After having just come from Martinique where the currency is Euros ($.75=$1 US), it took him a few seconds to realize that a rather large mistake had been made.

He returned to the cashier and explained that he bought 55 gallons of fuel not the 5.5 gallons she had charged him for. You would have thought she would have been a bit more responsive to the fact that he had pointed out the discrepancy but she just corrected the mistake and handed him back the bill with hardly a smile.

We threaded our way back to the lagoon and dropped the hook in 8’ of sticky mud. There are only 2 other boats in here besides us and DocNoMore, so we have plenty of swing room. Besides that, our view couldn’t be better. We are surrounded by beautifully landscaped 2 story duplexes and 2 & 3 story town homes lining the lagoon. The houses beyond them on the hillside appear to be well maintained too. In short, this island seems a lot more developed and economically sound than the other islands we’ve visited.

While Dale and Roger checked us into customs, Elaine introduced me to Don & Diane on Cloud Nine and Greg & Meg on Wet Bar. Both of these boat crews have been cruising for quite some time now and offered all sorts of tidbits on the islands further south to us first timers. When Dale & Roger came back, we promised to return later to continue our discussions.

This evening, the four boat crews got together for a potluck dinner and talked about anything and everything. One of the first things on our to-do list is to locate tickets to the 15th Annual St. Lucia Jazz Festival which starts this week.

St. Anne, Martinique
14.26.306N
60.53.186W

We, DocNoMore and Wayfinder took the dinghies over to the next bay to do some provisioning; we also heard that they had two chandleries that we had to check out.

We were amazed to find hundreds of boats in Marin Yacht Harbor. Fourteen charter companies operate out of the harbor; some we’ve never even heard of. We nosed our way in to the (very nice) dinghy dock and performed our customary inspection of the local chandleries. Dale actually found a shore power receptacle that he had been thinking of replacing.

We then dinghied over to the dock behind the local supermarket. How convenient! Another French or Martinique difference we found is that you have to pay to use a shopping cart. You need a Euro coin to obtain the cart, do your shopping and then you get your coin back when you return the cart. I guess that way the shopping carts are always returned.

We finished our shopping and then scooted back as quick as we could, since we could see that rain on the way.

In between raindrops, Dale swapped out the shore power receptacle. Looks like it was a good thing. When he started stripping the wire to attach the new one, there were burn marks going back several inches inside the casing. He says that he’s going to swap out the entire wire now, since he doesn’t trust it at this point.

Tonight, dinner is on the Palace. Tomorrow we and DocNoMore will head south again to St. Lucia. Wayfinder is going to stay here and wait for us to radio back as to whether they can bring their 3 dogs into the country. We’ve heard that as long as they stay on the boat and not get off, it’s alright. We just want to make sure before any fines are levied. Apparently, from here south, it gets a little tricky bringing animals with you. It’s why Wayfinder is heading all the way to Venezuela instead of stopping at Trinidad. Trinidad has a long quarantine, so they‘ll bypass it altogether.

In fact, we just found out today, that the two marinas in Trinidad that we were hoping to stay at are completely booked, so we might be heading to Venezuela with them. We’ve also heard that many boats have two and three reservations each just to make sure they get in. Then once accepted, they cancel the others. So we might get in yet. We’ll just have to check to see what’s available when we get there.

St. Anne, Martinique
14.26.306N
60.53.186W

Today was field day on the Palace. While Dale scrubbed the bottom of the boat, I scrubbed the inside. Not very exciting.

Later, we dinghied into town and walked to the end of its main street, up to the local church, across to the cemetery, along the quayside and then back to the dinghy dock. We could see the Club Med further along the beach and commented that most people who come to the resort probably never see the little town right next to it. We bought a couple of baguettes from the local bakery and returned to the Palace.

This evening, we and DocNoMore were invited to visit on Wayfinder, a 47’ Nordhaven trawler. The nickel tour had both of the sail boat crews drooling over the full sized refrigerator, stove, oven, microwave, and the apartment sized dishwasher and washer/dryer. They also paid twice to three times as much for their boat as we did ours and still have just as many problems on their boat as we do ours They said that in the long run, their boat was made in China. I’m glad that they’re nice people and willing to share their air conditioning with us. We enjoyed their company.

St. Anne, Martinique
14.26.306N
60.53.186W

We hoisted anchor about 9 am and together with Wayfinder, moved on down to St. Anne, the last anchorage on Martinique heading south.

I’m not sure why I considered today’s trip a challenge. We had the normal 15-18kts of wind. We had the normal 4-6’ waves. We had the normal katabolic winds around the mountains either stopping us dead in our tracks or knocking us on our ears. However, after a few hours of all these normal conditions, I was tired.

We rounded to the inside of Diamond Rock before crossing the bay into St. Anne. Diamond Rock is a tiny island with an extraordinarily tall peak rising out of the sea a couple of miles from shore. The English were so taken with its position that they commissioned the rock as a ship, the H.M.S. Diamond Rock, equipped it with cannons and enough supplies and water for a full crew of men for 18 months. This, of course, incensed Napoleon. (Empress Josephine was born in Martinique) So the little dude sent his Navy out to take back the rock.

After seeing this infamous rock for myself and the bay that it guards, I’ve decided that in the late 1700’s early 1800’s, the French and English would fight over anything.

St. Anne is a straight on shot; you just cross the bay and sail on up to where you want to drop your hook. Thankfully, it is 15-20’ deep for quite a ways out. There are probably 50 boats here with plenty of room for more.

It was good to meet up with DocNoMore again. We introduced them to Wayfinder and they introduced us to Chez Freddie and Island Spirit. We all got together for a potluck on DocNoMore and exchanged stories well past our normal bedtime of 9:00.

Ft. de France, Martinique
14.35.977N
61.04.151W

This morning at 9:00am we stood in front of the statute at the park just across the street from the dinghy dock waiting for our tour guide/driver. The only thing we knew for certain was that he would be driving a mini-bus and wearing a black hat.

So when Pedrick, came around the corner and asked for us by boat name, we knew we had the right person in spite of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a hat or driving a mini-bus. However, he assured us that the small car he suggested we all shoehorn ourselves into came with air conditioning. So off we go, 5 of us stuffed into a Peugeot; the air conditioning? All 4 windows rolled down. In spite of the shaky start, we ended up having a great time and Pedrick was a wonderful tour guide and spoke English fairly well, at least considerably better than our French.

We snaked our way up the mountains to the Eglise de Balata, a twin to the famous Basilica de Sacre Couer, located in Paris (that‘s a church to you heathens). We weaved our way through the valleys to the Balata Garden (botanical gardens) where I snapped a few hundred photos and came away with a list of names of the 200 plants that grow there. We stopped for a dip of the toes in a river of cool water descending from Mt. Pelee; drove up Mt. Pelee’ as far as we could in a car and finally toured the Bienvenue a’ la Distillerie Depaz, a rum distillery. No tour is complete without a rum tasting. This particular distillery was one of the two that was destroyed when Mt. Pelee’ erupted in 1902. Obviously, it has been rebuilt. The family that owns the distillery still maintains their lavish mansion to the side of the distillery; too bad we weren’t allowed to tour that.

We stopped for a bite to eat at the restaurant located at the distillery and thank heavens Pedrick was there to translate the menu for us. In fact, some other boaters we’d previously met in other anchorages asked to borrow our guide so that they could order too.

I ordered a rum punch with my meal thinking that I would get the normal fruit juice with rum. Instead I was given a bottle of rum, a small bottle of syrup, and a small glass with a stick of sugar cane in it. Pedrick showed me how to pour the sugar syrup into the glass, followed by a shot of rum, stir the mix with the sugar cane stick and then sipped. My first sip sent shivers up and down my spine to the point where I ordered a soft drink, any kind soft drink, that I could water down my “fruit punch” with. I ended up leaving most of it sitting on the table. I think I’m getting soft in my old age. Either that or the family rum is rot gut.

We finished the day with Pedrick taking the coastal route back while we sat catatonic after a big meal, transfixed by the scenery before us and a long day.

Ft. de France, Martinique
14.35.977N
61.04.151W

Today, we moved further south to Ft. de France along with Wayfinder. As compared to St. Pierre, Ft. de France is a bustling city.

Mike & Sara and Dale & I were making our way through the crowded streets to an ATM when a man, having a bad day, not quite totally sane, or both, started yelling at us that we Americans cannot take up the entire sidewalk. He told us to walk in a straight line. Everyone at the ATM started laughing (I guess because he was a crazy person) and we started laughing because he was one of only a handful that we found in the entire city who could speak English. So for the rest of the day, we’d walk in a straight line everywhere we went. It looked crazy but we did it just in case they all felt that way about Americans (and because we‘re silly).

A Tex-Mex restaurant was listed in our cruising guide and with two couples from southern California having guacamole withdrawals, we searched it out as soon as we had Euros in our pockets. Perhaps we should re-qualify the description--it was Tex-Mex with a definite French flair. Items such as burritos and fajitas were listed but everything in them was listed in French. No matter how Mexican the décor, the waitresses were French, only spoke French and our smattering of Spanish didn’t do us a lick of good. We resorted to pointing to pictures and then tried to convey the difference between beef, chicken and shrimp. (Two fingers by the temples = beef; brock-brock = chicken, and shrimp . . . we just gave up on, since it really isn’t a fish) In the end, the nachos were pretty good but the burritos were little square bundles whose flavor somewhat represented the real thing. Everything tasted good, just not quite the Tex-Mex we were looking for.

Right across the street was Sea Services, a marine chandlery. Of course, we were obligated by virtue of being boat owners to do a walk through. That’s when we learned that not only did we have to be buzzed into the two banks we went to, but we had to be buzzed into this establishment as well. I don’t know if it’s a French thing a Ft. de France oddity, or they saw us coming and locked the doors. In any event, they allowed us in. I don’t think we bought anything but since the proprietress spoke English, we asked her dozens of questions about the city, tours, etc.

She supplied us with maps, gave us the telephone number of a taxi driver that spoke English and when we tried to place a call to the English speaking taxi driver and couldn’t make the French operator understand us, we went running back to her and she actually placed the call for us setting up the tour of the island for us. Sea Services does a lot more than sell boat parts.

So, if you’re still wondering what we do all day. . . Think about it this way, it took 4 people to sort through the coins among us so see which one the telephone took, another hour to find a public telephone that worked, and then we ended up retracing our steps to find someone who understood what we wanted to say in the first place. That was just to make a telephone call. Imagine what it’s like when we’re trying to actually get something done.

St. Pierre, Martinique
14.44.436N
61.10.665W

Today is Dale’s birthday. So we celebrated it by hoisting our anchor at 5:30 am (without any complaint from me about the early hour) and easing out along the south coast of Dominica.

A Nordhaven powerboat named Wayfinder passed us in the morning while we were motorsailing, but when the winds filled in and we turned off the engine, we sailed faster than we could have motored and passed it later on.

They hailed us on the radio to ask how fast we were going since he guestimated that we had to be doing 13 kts. We told him no, that we were only doing about 8kts but once in awhile we’d inch closer to 8.5-9kts. The winds were 15-18kts and the seas were relatively calm. We left him in our wake. (That doesn’t happen very often.)

When we pulled into St. Pierre, Wayfinder had caught up to us again and anchored nearby. We dinghied over and met Mike & Sara from California. They’ve been cruising for 3 years now; first going to Alaska and then south through the Panama Canal. They told us that they cruise at a steady 6-6.5kts regardless of conditions.

We all headed in to check into customs at Martinique. While the guys filled out the paperwork, Sara and I headed to a museum that was dedicated to the eruption of Mount Pelee’ in 1902.

History tells that the volcano started making rumblings a couple of months prior to the eruption destroying two plantations on two separate occasions. If I remember this correctly, the mayor wanted to evacuate the city but another higher up politico persuaded him not to due to the upcoming election that was important to the island as a whole. As a result, on election day, it exploded sending rocks and poisonous gas the strength of an atomic bomb into the city of St. Pierre killing 20,000 of its 30,000 inhabitants. The once capital city over 250 years old was now completely destroyed and layed in smoldering ruins. A few days later, the volcano erupted again sending tons of ash down on the remains of the city. Photographs showed what looked like a bombed out city.

Today, there are only 5,000 inhabitants of St. Pierre. Houses are constructed using what was left of the stone buildings that remained standing. They just built upon the old without tearing it down. So now, you have a building with 2 stone walls and the rest with more modern construction. You also have a building where people are living or conducting business right next to a shell of a building destroyed 100 years ago. Really kind of bizarre.

We walked back through town with a hankering for pizza but nothing had opened up yet. So, we picked up some veggies at the outdoor market and went back to the boat and made dinner. We’re learning that most places on these French islands don’t open for dinner until after 7:00; way too late for us since we like to be back on the boat before dark.

Portsmouth, Dominica
15.34.905N
61.27.821W

Again we started our day with fresh warm bread brought to the boat, (it’s a tough life but someone has to live it.)

We were hoping that we could be paired with at least one other couple, possibly two to take the waterfall and rain forest tour. Unfortunately, Andrew never could find anyone else that was interested and we weren’t prepared to pay the entire cost ourselves, so we ended up reading the entire day.

Tomorrow, we’ll head on to Martinique.

Portsmouth, Dominica
15.34.905N
61.27.821W

Last evening, we dinghied to Big Daddy’s Restaurant for dinner and while waiting there, another cruiser on a boat named Attitude came in who we recognized as being anchored near us in Les Saints a couple of days before. Since he appeared to be eating alone, we invited him to join us. Larry Higgins is a retired Army test pilot single handing his cruise south. We discussed families, military stations, and the best places to lay low over hurricane season over dinner.

At the end of our dinner, the manager of the restaurant came by and sat with us for awhile. Jon had sailed into the bay after coming over from Germany, loved the place and decided to stay. He had suggested to the owner about bringing internet to the restaurant as a means of enticement, as well as offering fresh bread in the morning. He also organized the women who offer to do laundry and now the restaurant is pretty much a one stop shop.

So as a result, we started today with fresh, warm French bread delivered right to our boat. We took our laundry to the restaurant by 9am, knowing that it would be returned to us by happy hour this evening. I also knew where to get DSL internet connection at a reasonable price.

So while I camped out in the internet section of the open air, thatched roof restaurant (some places are just more conducive for working than others) for the next couple of hours, Dale walked around town to get the lay of the land. He didn’t tell me until later that twice on this walkabout, he was offered ganja. I told him that the pony tail was going to have to go. Nice English ladies speak to me, potheads speak to him.

We returned to the boat for a quiet afternoon and at 3:30, Andrew came back to take us on our Indian River tour. Simon and Christina from another boat were already in the skiff. When we reached the dock leading to the River, we switched to a longboat that had to be rowed. They are trying to maintain the River in its most natural state so that is how we proceeded up the River.

The River itself is though the bottom of the rainforest with all of the natural vegetation coming right down and sometimes across the River and out to the sea. We learned that one of the scenes in the movie, Pirates of Caribbean Part II, was filmed on a small corner in the River. The film crew brought everything in and carted everything back out again. The only thing remaining was a bit of Spanish moss dangling from a tree that was inadvertently left behind.

The blood wood tree roots were phenomenal. They were quite large in some places which twisted and turned into intricate wavy shapes the further up the River we went. When we reached a bend in the River where rapids started and where a large thatched covered bar was located, we stopped. The claim to fame here was a rum punch called dynamite.

Of course, we all had one. It was a brown syrupy liquid served in a small glass. My first sip about set me on fire but by the time I finished sipping it, it wasn’t too bad. Of course, by then we all started talking and becoming friends.

As chance would have it, Simon is a gynecologist from Cyprus. He also co-authored some of the textbooks Dale studied in medical school. Christina, from England, is assigned to the British Embassy in Cyprus and James, the skipper of the boat they were on, was the Army attaché assigned to the same Embassy. In Cyprus, Simon was the one with the boat. Now that James is retired and sailing here, they arranged to take their vacations in the Caribbean with him.

We all had dinner together at the Purple Turtle and had a great time watching Christina eating the lobster she had to have before the end of her vacation. Unfortunately, they were on a time schedule and had to return to Antigua to catch their planes, so were leaving in the morning. I think if they had stuck around longer, we would have had a blast together. As it is, they will be fondly remembered here in our log.

Portsmouth, Dominica
15.34.905N
61.27.821W

Finally! We were able to check into Guadeloupe through the Saints. While I readied the boat for departure, Dale went in one last time to see if we could actually check in and out of the country. He filled out the proper documentation and turned it in only to be told to have a seat. Twenty minutes later, they came back and said that everything was set. He said that he thought they ended up faxing the information to Guadeloupe and that they stamped the documentation then faxed it back to the Saints. Whatever works! We’re administratively pure.

As soon as he was back and the dinghy brought up, we were off. We kept a reef in the main sail as we anticipated the strong winds previously encountered when coming out of the lee of an island and directly into the path of the trades but let the jib out fully.

We slipped between the last of the small island comprising the Saints and out into unprotected waters. It was a little rough with the normal 4-6 waves with 15-20kts of wind. We had no sooner turned off the engine when kapow! The dinghy fell. Two of the four clips holding the dinghy up broke at the same time.

Dale grabbed the jib lines and started bringing in the sail while I turned the engine back on and brought us into the wind to take the pressure off the sail so that he could finish rolling up the jib. Then I did my very best to keep the boat pointed into the wind for the next half hour while he went below to get the tools he thought he needed to effect a repair and then while he ended up jury rigging another way to hold the dinghy up.

This time the cables didn’t break but the clips he used to hook the cables to the eye-bolts on the dinghy itself. He ended up threading some lines though the lines that run along the sides of the dinghy used as handholds to drag it up on the beach.

It reminded me of the time that Fred & Geri and Dale &I went through the same thing when we chartered a boat out of Burnt Store Marina on the west coast of Florida and the dinghy fell. The ride was about the same too. It wasn’t so much keeping the boat pointed into the wind as much as keeping it into the waves at the same time.

This time, the majority of the waves were 3-5’ tall but every 7th or 8th set would be 6-7’ tall. Those had a tendency to try to swamp the dinghy before he was able to get it higher out of the water. I didn’t dare take my eyes off the waves in front of me so that when I saw the larger ones coming I could turn into them a little more and keep the rocking to a minimum. It didn’t matter, there was some pretty salty language when the Palace’s rear end would ride the trough down and dig in while riding the next wave up. Every few minutes or so, I’d steal a glance to the side to make sure that we weren’t being blown back down on the islands and reefs we had passed by on our way out.

Needless to say, we motorsailed the remainder of the way to Dominica so that we didn’t list as much, putting more of a strain on the lashings than was absolutely necessary. I was pretty concerned that the side ropes were fraying and wouldn’t hold up the entire trip. Thank heavens they held just a bit longer.

We arrived at the entrance of Portsmouth, Dominica, where the harbor is about 2 miles wide and a 1 mile deep and were immediately met by our first boat boy who came zooming out of the rocks to heartily welcome us to Dominica. We knew that eventually we were going to have to deal with the ‘entrepreneurs‘ so I guess that today was as good as any to start learning how to manage the situation. He motored along beside us long enough to tell us his name and that he was an official Indian River guide and would be glad to assist us once we were anchored.

With the harbor being so large, it took some time to actually get to where we could drop the hook. By the time we had found a spot that we liked, we were surrounded by 4 colorful skiffs buzzing around us with the ’boat boys’ yelling out their names and that they were there to help us in any way possible. Dale thanked them and told them that we needed to anchor and check into customs before we did anything else. Thankfully, they backed off a few feet and quieted down. By this time, I had referred back to our cruising guide which had actually listed the one who had come out of the rocks as being one of several who were recommended.

We anchored in 25’ of water and dug in quickly. Then they moved in to complete their bids. Dale did most of his talking with Andrew on Sea Bird, who filled us in on what was available and who did what. He directed us to another ‘boat boy’ by the name of Christian, who delivered fruits, vegetables and fresh bread in the morning. With our business completed and the remaining skiffs streaking off for the newer arrivals behind us, we untangled the dinghy and headed for Customs.

Unfortunately, this was one of those times when the location outlined in the cruising guide was wrong. Lucky for us, a local taxi driver saw our dilemma and pointed us in the right direction even further around the bay by the commercial docks. So off we went again. We locked our dinghy to a metal post and climbed up to the commercial dock to start looking for the customs office. While walking towards what looked like an official building with the island flag out front, a friendly English voice called out to us and beckoned us in her direction.

Helen, from England, married a local about a year ago and together they run the dive shop. She told us that we didn’t look the type to be buying bananas by the stalk and directed us to the customs office around the corner. While we were actually filling out the paperwork in the office, she came in and we had a very nice chat. During that chat, she shameless flirted with the customs officials, who thoroughly enjoyed every minutes of it. Once they started smiling, even they started to share their local knowledge with us. It was the most informative check in we’ve encountered thus far.

On our way back to the boat, we stopped by the local bank to withdraw some Euros and tied up to the Indian River guides dock. While there, Helen showed up again and once again, we had a nice conversation. She told us when the best times were for taking the River tour and suggested limiting our waterfall tour to the ones in the north and which restaurants were best for lunch and which were better for dinner. The River guides standing along the dock joined in with their own comments and once again, we obtained better local knowledge than ever before.

Being so well informed this time, this should be a great stop.

Bourg des Saintes
Les Saintes
15.52.019N
61.35.165W

Today is Sunday, so we started the morning with pancakes before heading into the village of Bourg des Saintes to walk along their streets. It’s really hardly more than a fishing village with colorful little boats lining their waterways but there are a couple of touristy shops tucked among the bakeries and restaurants that line the main street.

We started our walk toward the home of a local doctor that is shaped like the bow of a ship jutting out into the water; complete with portholes and a large chain cascading down as if attached to an anchor imbedded in the harbor. Someone with a sense of humor undoubtedly.

Then we turned and walked down the main street through the town. Church was just getting out and they were apparently dedicating a new bell as everyone was taking turns having their picture snapped with it.

We were surprised to see that the main mode of transportation, besides walking, is scooter. Scores of scooters were parked in front of the church on the street which seems to have been barricaded for that purpose. I was amused to watch ladies, young and old alike, dressed in high heels or sandals, delicate fabric dresses or cotton pants, who would come out, kick start their scooter into action, hop on and off they’d go.

I supposed we shouldn’t have been too surprised since the streets were very narrow. The hand full of cars that we did see had to pull off onto the sidewalk in order to pass another coming its way.

Again, I was pleased to see how clean they kept their village and the flowers that spilled out of the gardens into the streets and pathways we walked. Every house door and window had heavy wooden shutters that were thrown open to catch the trade winds for cooling. No where did I see any sign of air conditioning. It was if we had stepped back in time and things were simple and efficient.

We walked to the end of the town, went up a block or two and then returned to the center of town where we sat in the town square for a while and watched the people come and go on a Sunday morning. Being French, they greeted each other with a kiss on each side of face while talking non-stop the entire time.

We made our way back to the boat and the rest of the day we spent reading and watching the world go by.

Tomorrow, we’ll try to clear customs but if they aren’t there, we’ll head off to Dominique and hope they let us in.

Bourg des Saintes
Les Saintes
15.52.019N
61.35.165W

While I tore the boat apart looking for coffee I knew I had packed, Dale camped out on the doorstep of the Customs office bright and early this morning, hoping that we’d have more luck today. He did meet the cleaning woman who indicated that the office was closed and didn’t know when it would open (or didn’t know what he was saying, we’re not too sure which).

On his way back to the boat, he dropped by Indigo Moon who said that they had heard from some of their friends about another office located in Les Saintes (part of the French protectorate) that was supposed to be open. Since we had wanted to spend a day or two there, we decided that it would be better to keep moving than to get hung up for the entire weekend waiting for a bureaucrat that would never show.

So about 9:30 am, we hoisted our anchor and headed south to a group of islands called Les Saintes. The trip was exciting. We either had no winds to speak of or up to 30kts coming from around and down the mountains and out to sea. We knew to expect some pretty intense winds once we cleared the island from those being diverted between the two mountainous islands. However, as we rounded the tip, we also saw a squall line approaching. I grabbed the cruising guide and plugged in a waypoint to guide us to before we were lost in the rainstorm while Dale ran around closing hatches and dropping down the side curtains.

The rain cleared once and then another squall moved in behind it. By the time both cleared, we had made the crossing and were at the entrance to the harbor of Bourg des Saintes. Again this is an extremely deep harbor surrounded by mountains. We circled and circled but the shallowest we could find to drop our hook was in 35’. Many boats are anchored in 50’ or more. So far, we seem to be staying put.

Dale took the dinghy in to see if we could check in but, you guessed it! They were closed. Well, at least we can walk around the town tomorrow as there are no car rentals and try to check in and out on Monday.

Deshaies, Guadeloupe
16.18.477N
61.47.871W

Since we were still in the same spot as when we went to bed last night, we figured that it was safe to go ashore and see what Guadeloupe had to offer.

We knew from our reading that historically, the island has always been French but were somewhat surprised to learn just how few people speak English, unlike the other French islands that we have been to. Luckily, we had a map from our cruise guide and could pretty much find our way to the Customs office up the hill. Since they called it something else, and the office we found was closed, we had to ask around to make sure that we had indeed found what we were looking for. We had; it was just closed. We knew that there was another Customs office in a town further down the coast and since we wanted to tour the island a bit anyway, we took our documentation with us to rent a car so that we could complete the formalities later in the day.

During our LeMans tour de France, my initial impression of the island is how clean it is. The towns are small and quaint and the streets are two lane but everything is very tidy and well kept.

Our first stop was at Jardin Botanique, the local botanical gardens. This was quite possibly one of the most beautiful gardens that I have ever seen. An incredible variety of tropical plants from around the world together with an impressive display of orchids growing in a natural environment were artfully showcased along 12 acres of beautifully manicured grounds. There were also koi ponds, flamingos, parrots with loads of fountains and water gardens tucked in for good measure. A couple of hours vanished in the blink of an eye.

We continued on our drive by heading south along the road that rings the island. An hour or so later, we entered the port city of Basse-Terre where another Customs office is supposed to be. We had our trusty guide with a description of where it was located but had absolutely no luck in locating it. I’m not sure if it’s a French custom or if it’s an island custom, but they close for 2-3 hours for lunch and everything grinds to a halt. Of course, that’s the time we were trying to track down the office. We heard that there was another over at the commercial port and we tried that one as well but of course, it was closed too.

After wasting a couple of hours searching for offices that were either not open or we couldn‘t find, we decided to continue on our journey and hope for the best. Dale enjoyed the twisting and turning roads through the mountains and along the coastline. The little Renault actually registered 45 at one point, so he was having a blast pretending that he was racing in the LeMans.

When early afternoon hadn’t found us very close to the turn off for the waterfalls we were looking for, we decided that it would be best to return the way we had come because we certainly were going to make the full circle around just our half of the butterfly.

We tried once again at the Customs office in Deshaies but it was still closed. We did meet Buddy and Melissa off Indigo Moon from New Orleans camped out on the doorstep. We’d seen their boat in English Harbor the day before. They’re on their way south as well, so we exchanged boat cards and promised to get together soon.

As for Customs, we’ll try again tomorrow.

Deshaies, Guadeloupe
16.18.477N
61.47.871W

Since all matters move on island time, it took a bit longer to clear Customs than Dale would have liked but we still managed to hoist anchor before 10 am and make our move to Guadeloupe.

The winds and waves had calmed since our arrival to Antigua and we motorsailed south until the winds filled in about noon which allowed us to turn the engine off and travel the remaining distance under sail alone.

When we climbed to Shirley Heights a couple of days ago, you could see Guadeloupe and Monserrat in the distance. Today, however, there was a haze that enveloped Guadeloupe and kept it hidden until we were practically on top of it. Monserrat’s volcano maintained a constant plume of smoke over it the entire time we were on Antigua and with the wind out of the south a couple of the days we were here, we had an incredible amount of ash and dirt covering us. We welcomed the rain that came last night, hoping that it would wash the majority of the grit away.

Guadeloupe is shaped like a butterfly and is actually quite large. It is also very mountainous and green with deep harbors. It took a bit of scouting around before we could find a place shallow enough to anchor in. We eventually found a spot in 20’ that did the trick. Deshaies (day-hay) is hardly more than a fishing village and there appears to be only one dock we can tie our dinghy to. As the evening winds whipping around and down the mountains have already begun, we’ll stay aboard tonight to make sure we remain where we dropped our anchor.

Antigua
English Harbor
17.00.259N
61.45.596W

We dinghied to the chandlery this morning to pick up a gallon of muriatic acid for the de-scale job we had planned. After that, we scooted over to the other side of the harbor to see if our mail had arrived and then decided to kill some time until it did at the Nelson Museum.

It was actually pretty informative, particularly since I really don’t know much about the English hero. As I mentioned in an earlier post, he was stationed in English Harbor when he was a young captain. He met his future bride in Nevis, a small island near St. Kitts, and his best man was the future king of England, who’s ship was also stationed in Antigua.

The museum detailed his career and his personal life with pictures and relics, as well as that of the English military in general during that time frame. It was really very nice to be educated in such a manner.

When our mail finally arrived, we went back to the Palace and got down to work. Dale had saved bits and pieces of hoses and managed to concoct a method of cleaning the condenser with the least amount of fumes inside the boat itself.

Since I can’t smell anything anyway, I volunteered for the initial pouring into the hose up in the cockpit which led through a window, down into the area where the compressor is stored. Then Dale would either allow the acid to flow out or block it inside the unit for a few minutes to ‘bathe’ the unit. I’d pour a small amount into a plastic glass, which was more manageable that the gallon jug, then pour that amount into a funnel stuffed into the hose leading to the condenser. I was only mildly alarmed when the liquid started to smoke when I poured it into the glass. Dale assured me that it was just cleaning the glass. Once I got the hang of how much to pour into the funnel without it bubbling back up on me, the remainder of the cleaning process went smoothly.

We ‘bathed‘ it twice and then rinsed thoroughly. The refrigerator does seems to be working better, so we‘ll see how long this lasts.

Now that we have our mail, we‘ll be moving along to Guadaloupe tomorrow. We were talking with Sue and Robert on Sunday‘s Child when we realized that we had neglected to clear out already, so Dale will be making a quick run by Customs before we leave to make sure our papers are in order.