Ah Guadeloupe – You’ve done it again!

Previously in Matt & Karen’s Soggy Adventure... (bugger it, read them yourself). So we checked in at Le Pelican and everything in Deshaies was as we remembered it (except Harold no longer was delivering bread, which is why we came back – fresh baguettes and croissants in the morning without leaving the boat – how civilised!) Anyway, there was not much we needed to see since we had been here before, so it was a relax station, with a dive thrown in.



So that was how it was. When we got back to the boat, Mike and Cheryl from Happy Times, whom we had met checking in, dropped by and asked us over for sundowners.... so the relaxing started. We arrived and met Mikayla, their daughter, and were introduced to Bob (a high school headmaster), who he ditched his sick wife Janice for the night and Johanna and Martin from Swedish Sailing Vessel Snowbird (you really need Cheryl’s Swedish accent to understand why it is Swedish Sailing Vessel Snowbird, not just Snowbird). We had a fun night, particularly when Bob described a real life High School Musical. I am sure that is why he left his job!

So after we got home and got some rest we decided we wanted to dive Jacques Cousteau’s marine park so we went and tried to book in at Blue Pearl www.bluepearl.gp run by Relio and Stephanie, but they were doing what they do – diving. But through the miracle of the internet we made contact and organized the dive. We couldn’t do Jacques’ place but on Saturday we dived the reef just off Anse Paul Thomas. The price was reasonable and all inclusive and Stephanie spoke English! When we arrived there were 2 other couples diving with us, but they went with Relio doing a Baptism of Diving and we got Stephanie to ourselves. The dive was fantastic ranged from 2-18m, although Karen didn’t have enough weights, so she hogged Stephanie and I had to try and keep up to see what she was being shown.  We swam with a hawksbill turtle, saw fish fighting, unique sea shells, heaps of vase coral of so many shades and colours. It was great. I managed to last 45 minutes before I blew my tank. We then hauled ourselves onto the boat, ate ananas (pinapple) and bananas (bananas) and drank planteurs punch (rum punch) before heading back to the shop and having more planteurs and finding out what we had seen. It was a great day. Highly recommend doing a dive with them!

After the dive we relaxed and then motored to Le Saintes at the southern end of Guadaloupe. We tried to check in here on our way north... you would have known that if you had read the blog... but it was too crowded. This time we headed straight for Pain du Sucre (sugar loaf) under motor. All was good until 10 minutes from the anchorage when the oil pressure alarm from the starboard engine came on... what the..!!!!

We motor in on the port engine and literally dropped the hook like a charterer! 30m and probably all in a heap. I had a feeling I knew what it was and when I opened the engine compartment, I was right. My oil filter wrench had scrapped the paint on the oil filter and it rusted, pin-holed and sprayed all our engine oil around the engine room! It was the quickest oil change I have ever done – no need to pump the sump – it was empty! I changed the oil filter, filled the engine with oil (or up to the full mark anyway for all the girls out there) and tested my work – all good! So I did the Heinrick Manoeuvre (Boofa – you know what I am talking about) on the anchor and found it resting on its side on the sand below. Time to re-anchor! We test the motor and reset the hook and relaxed for the night.

Next morning, we decided to move into Grand Bourg so up came the pick and we headed on in and decided to drop the anchor near the fishing harbour where Merengue told us to. As we were setting the anchor we look over and all the other boats in the harbour were on moorings. So the hook came up again and we moved over to mooring number 47, nice and shiney new and free until 1 July (apparently). They are everywhere in the harbour which is notorious for deep anchorages and poor holding to the north, so we were happy to be on the mooring! I have heard they will be €25 a night soon.

Anyway, after deciding to never do a fort again in the Caribbean, we set off the next morning to Fort Napoleon on an overcast but humid day. It was a reasonably easy walk and the views over the harbour were great.



I hate to say it, but the fort was in excellent condition and was well worth the walk.



It was then back to the boat with baguette in hand and back at the boat we met Terry and Julie on Melvin and talked about having drinks the following night and maybe staying for the fish festival on the weekend. Now I am sad to say, we have met a couple of pretenders along our travels (Boats flying the Aussie flag, but the owners having funny South African accents – obviously they have seen the light even tho’ one who will remain nameless still barracks for the Boks), the situation on Melvin is worse... Terry is an Aussie and Melvin is flagged with a red southern cross and no Fed star (Kiwi). I will work on him on the way south and see if I can straighten him out!

Next day we catch up with Happy Times and invite them for drinks, only to find Melvin has done a runner for Pointe a Pitre – they must of heard of my rum punch, so we delay drinks for the a day and I get to work on Debbie’s old donk. To fix the gears, the whole motor head needs to be removed, and after inspecting it, this does not seem hard. I remove all the visible bolts, spill engine oil over Karen’s nice white deck, but still I can’t get the motor off. Before I resort to a hammer, I do a web search on the problem which I find is very common. The solution was to hit it with a soft hammer, which I did and it worked. The engine is apart and next step is to fix the gear shift – but we don’t want to rush things so that can wait a while.

Melvin arrived back a couple of days later, and I told them that we had had drinks without them, but the fish festival was on. So Saturday it was off to Plage de Pompierre for the concourse de culinaire (or something like that). The bay, an easy walk from town, is beautiful so we found some coconut palms (which Terry checked out for dangerous appendages) for shade and sat down to listen to the music.



As they were still setting up the stalls, this situation didn’t last long, we hopped up and headed to a restaurant close by to have a cool drink, taking in the wildlife on the way.



The restaurant was packed with locals and the food looked quite nice, but we restrained and headed back to the fish festival – there had to be food there. And there was – fish no less! So we grabbed some fish skewers (and Karen went outside to the sandwich vendor for her cheese sandwich) and settled back under the coconuts and gorged ourselves – there is no such thing as a small helping in the Caribbean!



Sunday came around quickly so it was sails up and off to Dominica, with winds on the nose and seas on the side, but we made good progress with the  winds shifting to the north as we came into the lee of the island and we sailed on into Prince Rupert Bay with plenty of sun and Karen at the helm (for some of it at least)

St Kitts & Nevis – Not a lot to say...

In our task of ticking off as many islands in the eastern Caribbean before we head a little west later in the year, we motored our way south to St Kitts and Nevis in a manner that is not honing our sailing skills at all. Kitt’s is only about 22 miles or 3 ½ hours from Statia, but when you arrive at the marina and walk through the Cruise Ship terminal to customs and immigration, you could be light years away from the tranquillity and simplicity of Statia.

We anchored in Basseterre, just of the new marina in nice sand and a fairly gentle roll coming from the south west into the harbour. We were one of three boats in the harbour, so a nice easy anchoring job. We waited until we were sure the anchor was set before heading into Customs to clear in. Of course I continued the “we’re here beer” tradition passed down to us by Jackster in Venezuela before I left. This is one reason I don’t leave the boat before 2 hours after anchoring – a very good, safe and pleasing practice.

We arrived at customs at 3:00pm, just as the officer was stepping out and were told to come back in an hour and a half and that in the mean time we were free to wander around and have a drink if we so desired – so we did. When we got back we cleared customs, paid our harbour fees and were told to come back in the morning to clear immigration. So we weren’t really in the country just yet.

When we got back to the boat we found out our friends on Evergreen who were looking to catch up with us, sailed right on by with our new sheet and anchored in Whitehouse Bay without even waving. They took off the next morning for Guadaloupe so we had no time to catch them up!

Next morning we wandered around the town doing “Tommy Tourist”. The museum was very interesting and gave a good sight into St Kitts and Nevis history and slave trading in the Caribbean in general. Whilst that is perhaps a sad part of history, it is very definite that the Caribbean would not be what it is today without it. Particularly in the British Islands, the Africans are now the dominant population. As Boofa said, he now knows what it feels like to be a minority.

Basseterre is a quaint town and we wandered through the town and visited the Catholic church. On our way there we wandered through independence square, where all the school kids hang out (and make out) at lunch time. We were approached by a man you sought support for a program to take some local kids to the Special Games, which of cause we gave to, but it did bring me back to Antigua where I bought a very ordinary CD to support another disabled program...must be the current trend. Anyway...



By the way I had problems with the camera, so independence square is all you get.

After doing the sight-seeing, having lunch and buying some fresh food we decided that we should make our way down to Whitehouse Bay ourselves for some R&R. I t was an uneventful motor and we set anchor in amongst the local and transient boats. It was not picturesque, but tranquil. There is a dinghy dock and rubbish provided by the developers who plan to put a marina in somewhere nearby so it is good for a couple of days.



While we were here we snorkelled the wreck which was pretty good – sorry no photos, you know the story – and took the weather window or no weather window to install our 5th and final solar panel! This gives us 695W of solar power and 400W of wind power (when Wally wants to work) which should have us diesel free at anchor in most situations!



As you can see it is a slightly different installation to previously, hanging off the back of the bimini (roof) and mounted on stainless steel brackets I got made by “Terry on the French Side” in St Martin. If you are looking for stainless work, he is good, quick and reasonably priced.

So anyway, the was no wind and no waves – perfect, and to appease the faint of heart among the crew, I decided to tie a rope around it as I was mounting it so it would not fall in the drink. We agreed roles and went to it. Karen would hold the rope and anchor the solar panel (even though it weighed as much as her and probably pulled her into the drink if it got away but don’t tell her that) and I would drill, glue (with our favourite body art material – 3M 5200 marine adhesive) and screw it. Well, perhaps I overemphasised the “Hold on and don’t let it fall in the water” instruction because for the next hour I struggled against Karen’s tight hold on the rope to try and get the solar panel out over the edge and into position. Once there it took 4 minutes to drill, glue and screw it down. This may be an exaggeration, but I do it only for illustration purposes as I had not camera or video. It did remind me of when Karen and I were renovating the bathroom and trying to lift 4m lengths of plasterboard (dry wall) up ladder and fix it in place near the ceiling!

After a couple of days relaxing, it was time to head to Nevis, a 5 mile motor from Whitehouse so not real exciting. We arrived on Saturday and were thinking about doing dinner in town, but when we realised that you could not lock the dinghy on we were less excited about it. Debbie had a new donk and we did not want to leave this hanging on a bowline in the dark. So we ate on board and decided we would hit Sunshines on Pinney Beach for Sunday lunch and a game of Bocce.



We met Sweet Pea, a local vendor shading herself in the outside area, who welcomed us to Sunshine’s and pointed us in the direction of the bar (like I need any help in that area) where we were greeted by Sunshine himself. He mistook me for an English chef who has his own show on the cooking channel (must be my slender physique) and showed us to a table. We went out on a limb and ordered the house drink – d’ killer bee rum punch, which must of been good as Karen had ordered a second by the time we finished lunch. I of course, being responsible, ordered the lower alcohol beer to play Bocce with. Ok Karen had blown all our money on the Shrimp Salad so I could only afford beer...

After my whipping Karen’s butt at Bocce with our new larger and much more slippery bocce balls like Merengue’s, we headed back to the boat. After the 2 killer bees, Karen took us of the beach with the new motor like a professional!



We spent the night umming and ahhing about whether we would stop in Montserrat. The website suggested that the areas that we would want to see by tour would be closed so we decided that Monday afternoon we would check out and Tuesday motor through the coral banks of Redonda and then try and sail into the wind past the Windward side of Monserrat to at least see the scenery of the volcanic plains.
Monday was a pretty simple day. We checked out with the port office, tried to find somewhere to hve a drink while we waited for Customs to open and gave up and walked to Fort Charles ruins and figured out we are done with forts in the Caribbean. We strolled back along the beach checking out before heading back to the boat for an early night, because...

At 0400 Tuesday morning we were on the deck, and dropping the mooring lines for our full day trip to Guadaloupe. We slowly made our way out of the harbour, with Karen on the foredeck spotting boats and buoys until we had rounded the long pier and dawn started to break at 0500. The buoys did not stop however until we were at Redonda! By the way – what a rock, it would hold its head high against Uluru (Ayers Rock) back home.



Karen, of course, maintained her navigational duties, studying her tools religiously throughout the trip



We tried as hard as we could but we could not get consistent wind in the right direction to sail (heaven forbid someone mention the word “tack”) but it meant that the planned 14hour sail was reduced to 12. The view of Monserrat was magnificent – clear until the very peak, with long volcanic slopes to the shore.



At 4:00 in the afternoon we were relaxing having a “we’re here” in Deshaies, Guadaloupe!

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Alison
DATE: 6/10/2011 5:12:19 AM
I just noticed the drop sided outdoor table - very snazzy guys!

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.!

Saba Sidetrip – All Cruisers take ferries sometimes

During our one week stay in St Martin (which lasted 8 – the subject of another blog) we heard a lot of people talk about Saba and the alternatives for getting there. Very few people take their boats due to the unprotected nature of the harbour and the deep water. Saba has remedied part of this by putting deep water moorings down, but there ain’t alot they can do about the roll. The other option is to take a fast ferry across from St Martin on a day trip for about US$122 including taxes, lunch and a tour. After much deliberating about the cost and the fact that the ferry is known as the vomit comet, we decided that this was what we would do.

We rang the booking office (yes we have a phone in St Martin – when you are staying so long and buying half of America’s gross exports – you need one) and they said that they could only make reservations in person so next day off we trot to the office in the Pelican Resort and reserve our seats. The nice lady behind the counter instructs us very clearly and firmly to arrive before 0800 the next morning with our passports to finalise the tickets and the ferry would depart at 0900.

The day of the big trip arrives and we struggle up, get the dinghy down, splash through the bay and tie up at Simpson Bay Marina and walk to Pelican Resort. This is all pretty difficult to do when you’re half asleep (or half of you is half asleep) but we manage to arrive before 0800 to find the office door ajar, but a closed sign on it – it doesn’t open until 0815! Why make us get there before 0800 – is this island time thinking or what? Make sure the tourists get to experience waiting even though the office is efficient or something?

Anyway we get processed and wait....................... and then at 0915, our ferry is called (it is the only one of the day and, like the old Jewish ladies in the Elsternwick cinema, I make my way to the front of the queue dragging Karen behind as I want to get the best seat on the boat, and I come face to face with the Vomit Comet!

To say that the Vomit Comet (you can see I like this name) is an interesting boat or deserving of its name is an understatement. Check it out – ugly huh – like a caravan strapped on pontoons? And this was supposed to deliver us safely and swiftly to Saba...



Once we were inside and settled with our seats (with ventilation) the briefing by the captain gave me no more confidence. He explained that there were only 2 rubbish bins on the boat (fore and aft in the centre of the boat) and that the other 20 or so waste paper bins with liners were for personal use should the trip not agree with one’s stomach..... hence the name.

As it turned out the trip was fast and smooth, and if there had of been a good time to take the big boat to Saba, today was the day as there was no seas to speak of and when we arrived in Saba the mooring field was devoid of yachts almost completely. Oh well, this was our adventure.



As you can see in the above photo, Saba is not your palm lined sandy Caribbean island and is really inhospitable to human inhabitation, being steep to, few “beaches” and very mountainous. It is however a story of man’s pig-headedness in making harsh environments their own. The first hint of this is Ladder Bay, a small harbour with 524 steps up the side of a cliff, up which all materials bought to Saba where man handled until about the mid-1900s.



Now Saba is part of the Dutch Antilles (or was until recently and I am unsure what it status is currently), but in the 40’s they sought assistance from the Dutch Government to build a road across the mountainous island and were told it was impossible, so a local dude took a correspondence course in road building and over the next 20 odd years the locals built their road across the island using only hand tools and wheel barrows... The road up from the port gave us an idea how hard this would have been.



Anyway enough of the history, on arriving on the island and clearing immigration, we met our taxi driver, Gloria – the lady with the smile – and hopped aboard her taxi and commenced a very informative tour that showed us:

    1. The hospital
    2. The old people’s home (that is attached to the hospital and serviced by the same medical staff)
    3. The post office
    4. The two banks with their ATMs

And a host of other uninteresting stuff like :

    1. the church with the painted ceiling



    2. The glass blowing studio



    3. The Airport (another piece of tenacious engineering) The story goes that the locals hired a pilot from St Barts to find a piece of the island he thought he could land on, they flattened it and he landed and so began the construction of their airport!



    4. Before delivering us to Mount Scenery for the hiking part of the tour. We walked up about 200,000 stairs (ok maybe 200 meters and 50 stairs) before deciding that a trip in the downward direction was more to our liking so we sweated our way back down to town before lunch.

We thought that we would while away the time browsing through gift shops with local embroidery (yeah I’m really into that) and stroll through the museum but the museum was closed and the 2 gift shops took 10 minutes so it was off to the pub! (now that is my sort of tour). We scored the last table outside at Scout’s Place and enjoyed fish and chips in beer batter and a quite lager whilst advertising our friend Ricki’s bar in Grenada for those passing through.



We thought we may have missed something so after lunch we headed back out into town and after 20 minutes of searching we were again back at Scout’s Place enjoying the magnificent scenery and another cool lager.

Gloria arrived abit after the allocated time but hey, we are on island time and we were sure that the Vomit Comet would wait on us…. We hoped.

We arrived back is St Martin safe and sound after a quick trip back, and while I may sound a bit sarcastic in this blog, we had a fantastic day on the island and the tour was very enjoyable. If I was to do it again, I think I would do an over nighter so we could maybe fit in a dive as well.

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Janette Boluch
DATE: 5/18/2011 11:52:05 PM
Loved your blog

COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Silke
URL: http://www.la-palma-sailing.com
DATE: 5/19/2011 12:02:35 AM
It's early (very early :o)) morning here on the Canaries, just wanted to shutdown the old computer and got stuck with our post. Just great! Thanks a lot for keeping us updated, loved to hear your voice after such a long time the other day (thanks Skype - even though connection was poor). Anyway looking forward to meeting you next year on Cuba.....Keep on going with your blog. Big hugs Silke XX

Ah Barbuda At Last!!

*Author’s note: There has been a delay in posting this blog for two reasons:
1. Since leaving the deserted island of Barbuda with it’s excellent wifi , we have been in St Marteen, one of the most developed islands in the Eastern Caribbean that has no wifi unless we take the computers into McDonalds and there are only so many Macca Breakfasts I can handle; and
2. We promised a fellow cruiser who provided directions for us safely navigate the wreck and reef strewn waters of Barbuda that we would tell no-one of the true beauty of Barbuda so others would not follow and ruin the tranquillity that is Barbuda.... so you will have to judge for yourself whether I am telling the truth in this blog or just dissuading others from following...
After much nail biting and “discussions” on which parts of Barbuda I was allowed to take Where II (Coco Point in, Spanish Point is out, Low Bay is questionable or so the missus thinks) we were ready to head north to Barbuda. We spent several hours pouring over the charts and Doyle’s guide chartlets to define a safe (read very safe) course to Barbuda. This was not easy as no two charts agreed, however we had been told that Doyle’s charts were pretty much as good as they got. WE were concerned that they did not show a large submerged rock close to where we wanted to anchor in Coco Point that was on our Navionics electronic charts, but as they say, your eyes are the best navigational tool so we set sail with a little bit of trepidation (Of course I try and hide mine so Karen doesn’t realise that I don’t really know what we are getting ourselves in for, but what the heck – you only live once and we have survived the rocks once before in our rock solid cat!)

The sail was uneventful with the sails up 45mins after we left Dickenson Bay getting ever closer to those reefs until about an hour from our destination we turned to wind and dropped the sails for the motor in through the rocks and reefs (okay – there weren’t that many but we didn’t want to add to the 300 odd wrecks that are scattered around the Barbudan waters. The motor in was also uneventful, keeping close to the route we had set. We saw some of the reefs, but never those submerged rocks so we thought Doyle must have been right and the rocks displaced in a hurricane (we have since been told that they are there so I am glad we didn’t anchor too close!)

Coco Point is just stunning – a long pinky white beach with coconut palms (planted around the two resorts) and nothing else but the hint of the private airstrip that services the one working resort (Coco Point Resort – such imagination with the names). Once anchored I did the Heinrick Manoeuvre (diving on the anchor to see that we were set – naming of this manoeuvre is another long story that I won’t get into here) and relaxed to check we were set and of course got out the wifi antennae and hooked up to the world while taking in the glorious surrounds, with only 2 other boats at anchor.


 
There was a prediction of northerly swells a couple of days out that could possibly turn Coco Point into an untenable anchorage that we needed to watch but other than that it was relaxing in Paradise, until...
Just as we were settling in to this beautiful bay, a new Leopard 46 arrived and I couldn’t believe it, it turned directly in front of us, stopping what seemed a couple of boat lengths away, dropped the pick and started backing up on us. “Bloody Frenchmen” I thought as I picked up my bitch wings and headed to the bow.... But no! It was an Aussie flagged boat!!! After I picked up my jaw from the deck, they looked back (I am sure with a smile on their face) and picked up their hook and moved. “Must have been taking the mickey” I thought giving them the benefit of the doubt...

Well by the end of the day there were about 15 boats at anchor so I don’t feel so bad about telling people about Barbuda, because obviously a lot know.

Next morning we went and visited the jokers on their very nice “Scolamanzi” and found the second joke they pulled was their accents. The Queenslanders, Henriette and Johann invited us aboard with very noticeable South African accents. And despite having been in Aus for over a decade, Johann inexcusably still barracks for the Boks....

After a tour of the boat (which resulted in an order for a Intervac central vacuum by the cheese and kisses as a result of BE – boat envy), and discussions on the weather (which resulted in Scolamanzi upping the anchor and heading to Spanish Point to avoid the northerly swell) we headed into the beach for a stroll and swim. The swell was a bit unpredictable but we did manage to put ashore near the K Club (now defunct, but apparently Princess Di’s favourite resort, which Karen tucked away in the gossip filing cabinet) and enjoy the beach. As we approached the other resort, the resort security approached us and explained we were welcome to enjoy the beach, but could not enter the property above the beach line. I am not sure the photos do it justice, but the beach is beautiful, with a tinge of pink from the broken shells.



We continued down the beach to the point and looked across to Spanish point to gauge (or at least I was) how difficult it would be to navigate the reefs safely if required.

Back on the boat and another check of the weather confirmed that our options were to bug out of Coco Point for Antigua, or buzz round the corner to Spanish Point to hide from the oncoming swell. Well after a lot of discussion, a quick call to our new friends on Scolamanzi and some very detailed work on the charts, we agreed that next morning we would become experienced reef navigators and head into White Bay at Spanish Point! (See I knew I would get my way)

The sun was up and the sky reasonably clear the next morning so at noon we upped anchor to head round with the sun almost directly above and moving behind us. We had a very detailed route on the chart plotter and a very nervous reef spotter on the bow and an only slightly less nervous helmsman as we motored around the corner.

We slowly and carefully worked our way around the point and zigzagged our way through the reefs, Karen very competently spotting all the reefs and Bommies (coral heads) with ample time to ensure we safely manoeuvred towards the reef (her very dry mouth made competent communication of these facts a bit more difficult but flailing arms and nervous steps can say alot). As we were nearing White Bay, I made a mistake, instead of following our route, I decided to head towards Scolamanzi, despite a couple of “obstacles” on the chart. These ones were actually there, but as I approached, my spotter kindly indicated my error, and with an “all Astern” I backed out of the reef with no contact at all – luckily as I would never have lived it down, nor been allowed to go within 100 miles of a reef again!

We dropped anchor exactly where we planned, but with rocks close by the next 24 hours was a bit nervous as we constantly monitored our track and watched how we swung in relation to these “Navigational Hazards” in the photo below – things looked the same from all sides of the boat!



Well it seemed that the northerly swells were set in and we were stuck in White Bay with strong winds, lots of sun, waves crashing over the point and clear, clear azure waters. We were in about 15 feet (yes I have succumbed to talking in the ancient imperial measurement system due to the abundance of North Americans down here) and you could see the ripples in the sand from the deck! (You may need to look very closely at the photo tho’)



We spent 11 days in this delightful place – no shopping, no bars, just beaches, reefs and water. We caught up with some friends from Grenada (Hummingbird, Act 3) and met new ones as we enjoyed a impromptu pot luck on the beach one night, dinner on Scolamanzi and drinks aboard Hummingbird. We met the owners of a Canadian 42 PDQ catamaran that had designed his own hybrid system using Fischer Panda technology (including litium Ion batteries worth $25,000). It was a different design philosophy to the Lagoon , but he loved it even though it did take him two attempts to get the system to work properly on a cruising catamaran.

We snorkelled, walked along the beach, played bocce (although the beaches in White Bay were narrow and you had to watch out for the donkey poo obstacles) and of course worried about when the swell would drop and how we would get the hell out of the reef obstacle course. The island is interesting in that it is small and inhabited by only 1600 people who effectively live in one village, Codrington, and the rest of the island is uninhabited so you could go for walks and be totally alone with only the sounds of the waves.



We saw lots of evidence of wildlife, past and present in the form of the above mentioned donkey poo, vacated land tortoise shells, interestingly coloured conch shells and other stuff. We were a little disappointed in the snorkelling as the reefs appeared a little dead compared to other islands we have visited.





Apart from enjoying the beauty of the island we also to a stroll to windward side to the surf beaches and were absolutely amazed at one low swooping white sandy beach. From a distance it looked stunning and very inviting – and we had it all to ourselves. However, when we got up close and personal, it became obvious, that all was not as it seemed.


Garbage Beach
Strewn along the beach was more garbage than I had ever seen – gin bottles, rum bottles, old buoys, crates and all manner of flotsam – all apparently wash up from being discarded or washed overboard from passing ships – it made us vow never to throw any rubbish overboard. It also instigated our cruising garbage collection system – now we use my finished 1.75l rum bottles (there are an abundance of those aboard) to collect all our packaging material. You would not believe it but in that one little bottle I fitted over 1.5 weeks of garbage, excluding organics and recyclables! We also did our bit and took away what we could carry (ok it was two nice packing crates that fit nicely in our front locker).



After 11 days it was time to say “Hasta la Vista” to White Bay no matter how idyllic our surrounds we, and following our track in (except where that little mistake was made) in reverse,  we slowly made our way round Coco Point and headed north to Low Bay for a couple of days (an unfortunately short stay as beers were running low).



Low Bay is another 16 mile pinkish white beach with a couple sparse resorts on in (one near Codrington and one at the southern tip). We anchored near the Light House Bay resort and again got good wifi!



We spent the afternoon relaxing, watching the anchor track and of course taking advantage of the wifi – Karen even rang home on skype. We also organised to be picked up the next morning to visit the frigate bird rookery. We were in two minds if it would be worth the US$50 but thought it would probably be one of those things that other people would rave about and we would be disappointed if we didn’t go.

Next morning we were up  early and went to meet our water taxi on the strip of white sand south of the resort.... have a look at the photo and imagine that beach went on for 16 miles then you tell me where you think we were going to meet him.... Well it turned out to be easier than we thought, another taxi driver was on the beach on at the resort and he called us in and then pointed us in the right direction and our guy appears on the beach and helps us haul Debbie up the beach to the fence.

Our guide, organised through George Jeffrey, was a professional power house operator who did tours and water taxi work part time to make ends meet. He was very informative about the island and the frigate bird rookery. In fact we learnt more about frigate birds than anyone really has the right to know!



The blokes do all the hard work, puffing up there bright red neck to attract the female. After she has checked him out and decides if his bright red neck is sufficiently large, his real estate, nice enough and he won’t embarrass her with her friend’s, she sends him out to gather building materials and build the nest. If he does a good job, he is rewarded with sex (does this seem familiar to you guys). She then gets up the duff and sends him out to get the food.



This story does have a familiar ending though. After about 2-3 months of this the bloke gets to leave for another colony and the girl has to stay behind and look and he gets to do it all over again!



After the tour we headed back in to Codrington to clear out.



Now checking out in Codrington is not something you want to do by yourself. Yes, it is a safe place and the people are friendly, but it is complicated and it is very difficult to find the customs and immigration offices. Customs is near the airport, in a house and I could not see the sign until it was pointed out to me by our guide. After about 1 ½ hours, all was done and we just needed to do some shopping for fresh and beer (I had run out!) and we were done. Unfortunately I forgot to tell the taxi driver I wanted beer and we missed that stop and not much fresh in the supermarket so not much shopping done.

The taxi driver suggested if we wanted a beer, we could stop at the resort before heading back to the boat which we did. It is a beautiful resort with the bar overlooking Low Bay and Where II.



In addition to the US$20 beer and juice, the manager gave us a tour of the resort rooms, which were fantastic. Full suites with huge bathrooms, a full kitchen (with wine chiller but no cooking facilities) and large bedrooms. At $1500 a night, I suppose it is what you would expect as I have never and will probably never pay that for a room, but all food and drinks are include at that price and if you stay 3 nights you get a complimentary one way helicopter transfer from Antigua!

After that it was back to the boat to prepare for tomorrows trip to St Bart’s and onto St Martins the next day. We tried to sort out our Gennaker but had no luck so it looks like it is a motor sail west for us.