St Bart’s – The big boats, the big brands and a new donk for Debbie!

We finally escaped the clutches of St Marteen / St Martin and dragged the anchor up after 9 weeks anchored in Simpson Bay (yes we are a bit unusual in that we never went in through the bridge to the lagoon with the big boat, but enjoyed the bay and suffered the roll and the fees) and headed east to St Barts. We were on a mission... All the brands are in St Barts, Hermes, Cartier, Ralph Laurent, Yamaha etc etc. Yes you heard right Yamaha. We had ordered a new 15 HP outboard to replace Debbie’s 6HP Suzuki donk that has started to seize up in places you would not expect.

We arrived in St Bart’s and anchored outside in Gustavia harbour, but were surprised when we went in to clear in to find that no matter where you anchored from shell bay to effectively the Columbier Bay, you were up for harbour charges – effectively about €19 per day – more than we had paid in St Marteen for a week! We had plans so we checked in and paid for 4 days and made our way round to the Yamaha dealer Chez Beranger (chezberanger@wanadoo.fr), introduced ourselves to Marie-Marcelle, with whom we had been dealing with over the past two weeks to secure their last 15HP engine, and made arrangements for the delivery of the outboard in the morning. We did pick up the harbour authority’s magazine that should have given us a clue to the prices – it was a publication that looked at home on any Toorak coffee table.



We then went back to the boat mumbling our discontent and settled in for the night or so we thought. When we got back the wind had shifted and we had swung within a boat length of the bow of a French Boat (huh - got them back!). The owner emerged as I was looking around the anchorage for somewhere else to anchor and suggested politely we were too close so we moved and re-anchored next to the channel marker and hoped like hell we didn’t drag into the channel in the middle of the night.

After a night of numerous anchor watches by captain and crew, we arose anxiously awaiting our new purchase – the new donk. We made our way in slowly and took delivery of the new motor, unpacked it on the dock and reverently lay the new Yamaha 15HP Enduro motor onto Debbie for the slow trip out to the boat. We then spent the day changing the motor, reading the manual (yes Karen now forces me to read all manuals before I can play with my new toys), figuring how to mix 2-stroke oil and getting familiar with the run in instructions. Finally it was ready to go.



Well almost, it had to run on fast idle for ten minutes before we did anything else! So we waited....
And finally it was ready to go ... slowly... for the next fifty minutes we ran it just above start trying to get it up to 50% throttle, but it went so fast that we had trouble getting there. That’s when we wondered how we would get it to full throttle for stage three, we asked our friends Guy and Christine on Princess of Tides and Guy’s recommendation was and I quote “Get Karen a Snoopy the Red Baron leather hat and goggles, sit her in the bow with 6 cases of wine and let it fly!” But I saw only one way – Karen would have to leave the dinghy and Evel Knevel here would have to do the hard work on that himself.

Anyway enough about the engine, what about something for the girls you say. Ok shopping. Our first trip with the new motor was in to do some shopping.  If you are reading this Andy, you would have loved it – all the big names in about 100 yards.



And boys, you would have been proud of me – all of those expensive shops and my wife wanted to hit the chandlery and the hardware! How well have I got her trained? In fact, she had to grab me by the arm several times to stop me drooling over the €26,000 watches!  We walked along the harbour to the Industrial Zone, found the champagne shop, decided not to buy the Tattinger and then found numerous homeware shops and the hardware, but as it was after 4:00 and this was France most things were shut so we took the scenic route back to the harbour (up over the hill) and had a magnificent view of the bay from the lighthouse.





Next morning we were up and did the historical tour of Gustavia, taking in the museum (not worth it), the old fort (nice view over shell beach), shell beach and a very nice bar there where we stopped for a breather, the churches, the old town hall and basically everything in the brochure and that was before lunch! We stopped at Le Select for a cool drink before Karen decided it was shopping time again. You guessed it, back to the chandlery, hardware and home shops where we bought new coasters and a beach umbrella and anything else we could think of – it was after all over a week since we had left St Martin.

We paid another day to anchor in the crowded harbour and then, after watching the Maltese Falcon unfurl her sails and sail off into the sunset, we took off north to Columbier to relax (and not spend anything) for a week.



We had planned to do a couple of jobs like install the new inverter, while we were up here, but we read the park guidelines and found we could not work on the boat. This did not however stop us from employing some of the locals to clean the bottom of the boat – and they worked for food alone!



Columbier is a beautiful bay at the north end of St Barts and a popular overnight stop between St Martin and Antigua, but we got hold of a buoy there and stayed a week. We walked up to the hills surrounding the bay and did a bit of exploring.



We did however get stopped by the gate with “Beware of Dogs” sign before we got to the old Rockefeller house



I also amazed Karen with my culinary skills making fresh roti for dinner!



As our week of swimming snorkelling, reading (I polished off 5 novels in a week) and relaxing came to an end, it was time to put Debbie’s new donk to the test – dinghying down to Gustavia to check out. Fortunately I, for some reason, had the foresight to put the boat papers in the waterproof bag, for when we turned through the dinghy channel we saw that this was probably going to be a rough trip. It only took twenty minutes, but we were both wetter than if we had swum to town! The donk went superbly, still yet to get it to full throttle but it was an exhilarating ride none the less!

We did the last chandlery run (in case we had missed anything) bought some fresh food and it is on to St Eustatius tomorrow!

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Boofa
DATE: 5/29/2011 11:06:04 PM
Congrats on the new Yamaha Matt. I know you've had HP envy for quite a while.

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Janette Boluch
DATE: 5/30/2011 12:11:53 AM
As usual a great blog Matt. Wish I was there. JB

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Mum
DATE: 5/30/2011 10:13:32 AM
Loved these pictures Matt. Looks a beautiful part of the world.

St Eustatius – Statia for those who can’t spell big words

Our plan all along was to make it north to Barbuda, across to St Martin, West to the Virgin islands and then back down through Saba, St Eustatius, St Kitts and Nevis and then back to Guadaloupe for our trip south – well that was one of the plans anyway when we decided not to go north this year. And we pretty much did it, with the exception of Anguilla and the Vis so we were pretty pleased with ourselves when we arrived in Statia. According to Doyle there may or may not be mooring buoys when we arrived and after tooling around the anchorage we decided to go with the option of No buoys as they all looked light weight and private so we dropped the pick in nice clean sand just off the old wharf ruins. The anchorage was picturesque with the fort and village decorating the cliffs above Low Town.



We checked in at the main port, paid for 3 days at the port office and mosied on down to the park office to pay or marine park fees for a week. The whole island is a marine park so no matter where you anchor you are up for the US$30 ($10 a night or $30 a week). We then thought we would take a short stroll up the old slave path to town to have a look around. Well those old slaves must have been pretty fit ‘cause that path was steep and both of us were blowing by the time we reached the top. Perhaps we should spend less time reading and relaxing and more time exercising – yeah right!

We wandered around town, which was quaint and marked with history, but we took only a little of it in as we strolled and decided that tomorrow would be our historical tourist day so we headed back on down to low town to have a sundowner at the old gin house. We took a detour half way down the Slave Path at some stairs and we caught a glimpse of a young Green Tree Lizard – I think one of the prettiest reptiles I have ever seen – greens, blues and aqua – the photo really doesn’t do him justice (and this is the best of 5 shots.



Sitting at the Gin house, watching over the bay, we decided that we should check out the diving here. Although we have been gathering diving gear since the Canaries, the only time it has been used was to repair or clean the bottom of the boat. Karen and I hadn’t done a recreational dive for almost 19 years. Unfortunately by the time we left the bar (only one and a half drinks each – ok I had 2 , Karen had 1) the dive shops were closed so it was back to the boat.

Next morning we got up at a leisurely pace (as we do these days) and then headed up to town to explore properly. We started at Fort Oranje and visited the tourist office that explained a bit about the islands history and gave us a pack including a very interesting and interactive CD. The Fort itself was in excellent condition and from here, in 1776, the first official acknowledgement of the US as an independent nation in the form of a gun salute was made. The decision to do this by the then Governor de Graffe was unfortunately a career ending one for him, but placed him in the annals of American history.



We then toured the museum, housed in an old plantation house that dated back to about the same era (prior to 1775).



There was also interesting archaeological info on the Carib Indian inhabitation and believe it or not an early Jewish Synagogue dating back to 1739. Apparently the Jews were persecuted here as well with the population being exiled after the British invaded expecting great riches from the merchants, but found none. That was until they found a lot of funerals occurring and the riches were being buried in the coffins!
During the tour of the town, we were joined at first by one dog, and then a second, who no matter how hard we tried stuck to us like glue all day. We even tried locking ourselves in a cemetery, but somehow they found a way in. We stopped wrote postcards and they just lay at our feet then followed us as we left.



No matter where you go in Statia, the dormant volcano is dominant in the background, so over lunch we decided that the next day would be a hiking day – yes you heard right – Karen agreed to hike up to the crater of the Quill!



After a day on the go we stopped at Scubaqua and spoke to Marieke and explained our experience (6 dives 19 years ago)and that we wanted to do a nice easy dive with a dive master very close. Marieke was very understanding (I mean she didn’t go “You want what?” or “ How long?” or “ I wasn’t out of diapers then” or “How was it diving in those brass helmets?”) and said that they could do that and put a dive master right next to us the whole time, and the price was reasonable. We also stopped at the other dive shop and there solution was a bit more complex requiring reintroduction type course and hence was a bit more expensive. We decided that night we would go with Scubaqua.

Next morning I donned my x-country thongs (flip flops not underwear) and Karen put on her deck shoes (for the first time since she went home) and we took off for the hike. I have by this time learned how to get the dinghy to full throttle – but it is not a thing Karen enjoys, but it was a good way to start the day. We stopped by at Scubaqua and booked our dive and headed up the track to The Quill (music should go in here – Da-na-na-na... try and imagine it please).

By the time we had made it up the cliff track we were perspiring (me) and glowing (Karen) and the pace was set for the walk – slow and hot. The track was well marked and had informative signage along the way as we searched for the Killi Killi Kestral and other exotic wildlife. The best we saw was a lot of hermit crabs, a blue throated dove and a Red Bellied  Racer Snake of which we saw three.



Now, those of you who know Karen know that she is a city girl right? You can take the girl out of the city but not the city out of the girl – hence her desire to shop and her fear of snakes. Well, the first snake she saw, she observed inquisitively, but the second- for some reason she went all girly and jumped around squealing etc – very strange, but on the whole she did well in the bush – but more on that later.

After about an hour we made it to the rim of the crater and relaxed for a while, while some American tourists took photos and seemed to talk really loudly. I took some photos but the size of the crater really could not be captured by my lens. So I took a shot of Karen instead (She respectfully ask that you not look too closely at this as it is not her best shot).



From the rim of the crater, it was a 45min walk down into the crater .... with a warning....



...So of course I, not being a city boy, leave Karen at the top and head off down the trail. Well down the nice steps with the railing that started the trail, then when it got a bit steeper, I thought I had better do the right thing and go back to my wife and protect her in this wild place.

The Americans headed back the way they came, and in a bout of madness and a desire for tranquillity in this beautiful spot, I convinced Karen that I would be just as easy to branch off on the round the mountain path and work our way back into town from the other side – besides it would be a well marked trail, just like the one we came up....

Wrong!!! About 2 hours later, I found the fork in the trail which was marked sort of, after climbing over rocks most of the way down with City Girl, complaining of sore feet. We gambled and took the fork even though we could make head nor tail of the way the signs pointed and finally came to a fence, an overgrown field and what looked like a road beyond. Karen wanted to jump the fence and make straight for the road (trespassing I say and most houses here have dogs...) so the Harry Butler in me opted for divining my way through the field, what looked like lantana and finally I found our way to the road! The Leyland Brothers would have been proud!

Fortunately there was a park bench about 20 m down the road where we were able to stop and rest for a while (have the obligatory cigarette to clean the lungs of the fresh air), ‘cause by now, not that I mentioned it to Karen but my feet were hurting as well. Here we were guarded by the friendly tree, so we were safe and sound!



We took off the shoes and x-country flip flops and strolled back to town and past a bull grazing on the road. He kept a good eye on us until we came to the end of the long paddock and turned left. I thought it was a bit odd, until I realised the whole time we were walking past him and on down the road, I was waving a bright red Digicel bandana around (red rag to a bull and all that).

We made it back to the boat, exhausted, hot and sweaty where I found out that perhaps there was some basis to Karen’s complaints about her feet – blisters and most amazingly blood blisters under both her big toe nails – these shoes are really dangerous implements!



Next morning, after wondering whether Karen would be able to put flippers on, we hauled our dive gear up to Scubaqua ready for our first dive. Marieke was was replaced by Mike as our dive master and we explained again our situation. (I thought maybe Marieke had wized up to us and palmed us off to an unsuspecting newby, but it turned out Mike was one of the owners of the business and very patient as he explained how he was going to approach the dive and the rules. He then checked our gear and one of the hoses on my octopus burst and Karen’s BCD was self inflating. So we hired some gear for the dive.

Diving was everything I remembered, anxiety as we sat on the side of the boat ready to flip into an almost raging sea (2ft wind chop) and then the exhileration of being able to breathe underwater. Mike was fantastic (for a one handed diver – his second hand belonged to Karen and she wasn’t letting go of it) and coaxed Karen down the mooring line until we were on the bottom at the humps – a volcanic outflow and reef to the south west of Statia. We both adjusted our buoyancy and Michael continued to show us the sights including a young trumpet fist and snails. We lasted 40 minutes before I had blown my tank and we had to surface.  Mike had managed to pry Karen from his arm and the last 10-15 minutes we swam by ourselves. I am sure Mike will be nursing his arm for a while. You should check out their website http://www.scubaqua.com particularly the photos and video of the humpback whale that visited them recently and if you get to Statia (Patrick and Silke, I am talking about you at least) stop by and dive with them.

After 4 full on days we decided to spend the weekend in Statia and relax so in the end it was a six day stay in one of the nicest islands in the Eastern Caribbean!

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Patrick & Silke
URL: http://www.la-palma-sailing.com
DATE: 6/1/2011 6:41:06 PM
Great post - again! Well so plans are meeting you in Cuba next year and go for a scuba dive together, right?! We'll love it and are looking forward to meeting you again. Meanwhile we'll leave for Azores next week....just to keep us trained sailing wise (will try to do a blog)
HTTP://quetzalsailingblog.blogspot.com/
as well. Big hugs!!! -----

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Mum
DATE: 6/2/2011 1:01:05 AM
Wonderful blog, really enjoyed it and the photos. Great to see you are so adventurous and still safe.!