St. Pierre, Martinique

The anchorage in the town of Saint Pierre always seems to be crowded. There's a big bay but only a narrow shelf where it's shallow enough for cruising boats to drop anchor, it drops rapidly from just 25 feet deep down to 80 feet or more. On our first try we ended up a little too close to another boat for our liking, so we tried again much further down the beach and got settled. Then we went into town to do a little sightseeing. Our first stop was the Musee Volcanologique, which houses artifacts and photos of the eruption of Mont Pelee in 1902. Before the eruption, Saint Pierre was a bustling hub full of ships importing and exporting goods. That all changed on May 8, 1902. The volcano erupted and it took just ten minutes to destroy the town, covering it with hot ash. Nearly 30,000 people were killed in those ten minutes. In "after" photos, it looks more like an atomic bomb was dropped -- twelve ships in the harbor sank and there were no buildings left, just some walls here and there. The museum was full of weird displays of ordinary household objects completely transformed by intense heat. There were nails and screws from a hardware store that looked like a surreal sculpture all fused together. Wineglasses and vases were melted like they were wax, and there was a large metal church bell that had been crushed almost flat. Despite all this destruction there was one survivor, Louis Cyparis, who was in a solitary cell in the jail when the eruption happened. He was badly burned but survived several days drinking water that leached into his cell. What was surprising is that his cell is still intact and you can go inside. We walked over to where the jail was and took a look. The walls of the cell are a good two feet thick. The foundations of the theater next door are still there, too, so it was really interesting to walk around and see what they had excavated. Most of the rest of town looks a little ramshackle, and part of that is due to the fact that they rebuilt using the walls left standing after the eruption. So everywhere you look there's evidence of what happened here a hundred years ago. Mont Pelee is still active but is closely monitored and hasn't had any major activity since 1932.

Of course when we got back to the boat another sailboat had anchored pretty close to us. We didn't say anything to them because it looked like it would be okay if the wind stayed steady and we all pointed the same way. But just before midnight sure enough the wind died down and the boats started turning in different directions. They started getting pretty close to us so we sat outside and watched for an hour. I guess they were awake, too, because they finally hauled in a little chain so they would be far enough away not to hit us.

Where we are:
Location=St. Pierre, Martinique
Lat=14 44.351
Lon=61 10.652

Anse Mitan, Martinique

Will the excitement never end? This morning we were still anchored over in Fort de France. I was down in the bunk still half asleep when Kevin shouts down, "Hey Amanda, are you awake?". I said, "Yeah, why?". "Because I'm going to blast the air horn in a second here and I just wanted to warn you." Ah, our good old trusty air horn, what would we do without it? "Wings", a sixty-foot boat that had been anchored several hundred feet in front of us, was now somehow forty feet behind us and moving away fast. No one onboard responded to the air horn because there was no one onboard. The thing was heading into deeper water and if someone didn't do something soon we knew it would drift merrily off on its way to Central America.

It was just luck that Kevin happened to stop reading and go upstairs to look around. It was also luck that "Wings" didn't hit us or catch our anchor chain. However, Kevin could see that there were several other cruisers just sitting in their cockpits watching "Wings" take flight and doing nothing about it. No air horn or shouts to warn us as it passed our boat, no nothing. But then again maybe they were hailing us on the VHF, which we did not have on, so I am going to give them the benefit of the doubt. Anyway we lowered the dinghy and sped over. A French cruiser whose boat had also miraculously been spared being hit by "Wings" also came out in his dinghy. The first thing was to let out more chain, hoping that the anchor would catch and stop the boat from dragging further. Kevin and the French cruiser did that while I tried to figure out how to start the engine. The guys got the boat to stop dragging just before it got to the deep ferry channel. Once the boat had stopped dragging, the French guy dinghied back to his boat while Kevin tried to help me figure out the ignition. Our boat starts like a car: turn the key and the engine cranks. This one was a much fancier boat -- we could see switches for the bow thruster, the electric winches, the various electronic equipment, but no key or obvious way to start the darn thing. There were three mysterious black buttons, all labeled "Push", and two unlabeled choke-type pull switches that looked promising. But pushing the buttons in various sequences (and all together) and pulling the levers produced nothing. We could not hear any engine crank or anything.

But at least the boat wasn't dragging anymore, so while I stayed aboard "Wings" Kevin dinghied back to our boat to get our handheld VHF (and a bra, since I had literally jumped out of bed and into the dinghy while in my pajamas). He also stopped by a French boat who issued a security notice on the VHF to warn the ferries (who were passing pretty darn close to "Wings" and waking the heck out of us). While he was talking to the French boat, an American dinghied up and offered to go ashore to look for the owners. Kevin came back to "Wings" and we decided to just stay with the boat and wait til the owners arrived. About half an hour later a dinghy raced from the dinghy dock and it was the hired captain, who thanked us profusely for stopping the boat and "saving his job". Apparently he dropped the owners off ashore and then went to clear in at customs, where someone told him that his boat was dragging. Since the winds were gusting up to 30 knots, Kevin offered to help him re-anchor. We were both pretty surprised that the guy (Greg or Gary, didn't catch the name) wanted to anchor in exactly the same place. That made no sense; if you know your boat didn't hold why would you pick the same spot? We didn't say anything but it was a really odd choice. The anchor got set and Kevin and I returned to "Solstice". In a few minutes he dinghied up with a bottle of Australian wine and thanked us again for saving the boat and his job. THEN he casually mentioned that he wasn't even going to tell the owners about how the boat had dragged and that if the owner noticed that they weren't in quite the same spot he would tell them, "well the boat dragged a little but I re-anchored". So THAT'S why he wanted to drop the hook in the same spot!

Now, he may have been joking and honestly, I hope he was. But as a boat OWNER, for him to joke about deceiving other boat owners after the serious situation their boat had just been through, well that didn't sit right with me. He wasn't kidding about us saving his job -- the holding in the anchorage was excellent and the boat had a huge delta anchor, so the only reason it dragged was that he hadn't put out enough scope and he probably didn't back down on it (he didn't back down when we helped him, either). The owners of that boat will never realize just how serious the situation was -- their million-dollar boat was truly drifting into the ferry and shipping lanes, and it was also bearing down on an 8-foot-tall metal channel marker. So it's possible that he didn't want to say anything to the owners of "Wings" in order to keep his job. But we didn't do what we did to save his job. We did it because we saw a boat in trouble and others have done exactly the same for us. It's too bad we didn't have a chance to run into the owners before we left the anchorage, we would've told them the story of how we were saved from dragging in Luperon and that it happens to everyone. So if anyone runs across a beautiful, blue-hulled, sixty (or so) foot monohull called "Wings" from Seattle (bound for Antigua), tell them we say hello and that Kevin says, "You don't need to have a professional captain to drag anchor, we've managed to do it all by ourselves!"

Where we are:
Location= Anse Mitan, Martinique
Lat=14 33.655
Lon=61 03.175

Fort De France, Martinique

Fort de France at Dusk

[Kevin's Rant]When someone tells you they live on a sailboat in the Caribbean, you probably think of beaches and rum drinks and the carefree life. You don't think about customs officials demanding large amounts of cash because your paperwork isn't entirely in order. Every island you pass through requires you to run the gauntlet of customs and immigration (sometimes multiple times as in Tobago) filling out forms in triplicate complete with carbon paper which has been used so many times that it is useless. More often than not, the officials are surly people who hate their jobs. This has always been a pet peeve of mine, these people are the first impression of their country to the tourist (and most of these countries have tourism-based economies) and with a few exceptions they are generally unfriendly, unsmiling and unaccommodating. I have traveled thousands of miles to visit their backwater little island and spend my money, you would think they would be singing show tunes as I fill out the paperwork. Today we were fined 300 Euros (about $450 thanks to Mr. Bush) because our US coast guard documentation expired 4 weeks ago. Except our coast guard documentation didn't actually expire 4 weeks ago. Our registration is current, it is just sitting in our mailbox in Florida. We cleared into Martinique last week and they didn't ask to see our passports, or our previous port clearance, or our boat registration. Nothing. Today we made the mistake of anchoring off Fort De France (the capitol of Martinique) and within 5 minutes we had a customs boat with 4 guys tied to us asking "Do you have anything to declare?". Despite the fact that we had already cleared into the country, they wanted to see all our paperwork and got really excited when they saw that our US Coast Guard Certificate expired Jan 31. Score one for the Martinique Customs force, major threat thwarted. God knows what sort of havoc we could have wreaked with our expired US Coast Guard Certificate! Apparently the threat is neutralized with a fine of $450. We explained to them that the paperwork is in the mail, and probably 3 of the 4 guys would have let it slide, but the head honcho decided to make an example of us. Viva la France. If the officials had actually been doing their job when we cleared in we could have gone back to St. Lucia and taken our chances with a fine in Eastern Caribbean dollars. (Switching gears, now I intend to rail against the US coast guard) Our new certificate was only mailed about a week before the previous one expired. Not much time for it to arrive, get to our FL mail service and get to us in parts unknown. We have owned the boat just under 3 years, yet somehow our 3rd year of registration is already 4 weeks expired. Why is this? If I renew my car registration I get another 12 months right? Well, not so with boats. You renew a month early, your registration expires a month early. Laughably, the renewal process is nothing more than a single signature on a one page form that you fold up on itself, staple and mail to the coast guard. Then they mail a certificate (easily duplicated in 10 minutes at Kinkos) which is exactly the same as the last year's except for the 8 at the end of 2008 is now a 9.

Martinique Sunset

[Amanda's Post] Switching gears once again for those curious about the fate of the octopus who'd taken up residence in our commode, here is the brief conclusion of THAT saga: After two days Kevin finally decided to "flush" the guy reasoning that if he'd managed to survive being sucked through a tiny intake valve his chances of making it past the three-blade macerator were pretty good. For my part I would've let the guy live in the toilet indefinitely, but Kevin didn't want us eventually explaining to prospective boat buyers why there was a three-foot octopus residing in the bathroom. Anyway, I like to think he made it out alive and is posting a similar account on his octo-blog.

As for the evil French Customs boat and Kevin's rant, let me say this: our US Coast Guard paperwork was expired, and we knew it. It was a combination of bad timing, bad planning, and bad luck that we got caught with our pants down. We've bragged about how easy the customs process is in the French islands because they don't charge a cent or look at your papers, etc. But the reality is that they DO care about one thing and one thing only -- that the boat must be federally (not state) registered and have the paperwork to prove it. Again I say bad planning, bad timing. IF we had our mail sent while we were back in St. Lucia (we cleared into that country a mere two days before the expiration date)...IF we had chosen to anchor among the five HUNDRED boats at Anse Mitan instead of the FIVE boats in Fort de France...IF the customs agents had only come by the boat while we were ashore exploring the town...IF the fourth guy (the other three seemed eager to let it slide) hadn't been the boss...if, if, IF! The fact is, we broke a rule and they caught us. A very expensive lesson.

We were lucky one of the four guys spoke great English and was able to explain what was going on. We even got him on our side when we explained that we could have the current paperwork FedExed within two days...but his boss didn't budge. A third guy spoke Spanish and, while the English-speaking guy and the boss-guy were taking our money and filling out paperwork, he and I had a pleasant conversation about learning Spanish in school and traveling in Latin American countries. Whereupon the boss-guy started using HIM as a translator instead of English-speaking guy! THAT was a comedy of errors: boss-man says something...Spanish guy translates to me...I translate to Kevin...talk about playing telephone! It was definitely stressful. Finally I turned to English guy and said in French: "If it's possible, can we please just use English?!". Anyway, the English guy was as polite as could be and from what I could tell his boss was just a stickler for the rules. Which, honestly, we had broken. And now we've paid the fine for it. As they motored away, one of them made sure to snap a photo of "Solstice" for their records. The boat equivalent of a mug-shot. Fan-tastic.

In other news, later in the day we went ashore and explored the capital of Fort de France. Very European--lots of pedestrian walkways edged with boutiques, bakeries, and shops selling perfume and dainty women's shoes. We managed to find a supermarket and you won't be surprised to hear we bought four bottles of their cheapest wine. Oh, yes, we'll be drinking tonight...

Where we are:
Location=Fort de France, Martinique
Lat=14 35.953
Lon=61 04.137

Grand Anse D'Arlet - There's a what...in the where?

File this one under "O" for "Only On A Boat". I was sweeping the floor in the bathroom when I happened to glance over in the bowl of the toilet. I noticed an odd-shaped object in the water. (Refrain from juvenile jokes, please.) Remember that we have salt-water-flush toilets, which means that the water in the bowl is coming directly from the ocean. It's not unusual to have little bits of sea grass or the occasional brine shrimp come through the water intake. Now I know this is gross, but being curious I bent down to take a closer look at whatever it was. (Stop with the jokes.) I couldn't figure out what I was looking at, so I used the button to add a little water to the bowl and...the odd-shaped thing moved! First one leg twitched, then a second leg and I realized I was looking at a thumbnail-sized octopus! I stared for a second and then went running up the stairs to find Kevin, who was outside trying to bend back the metal piece for our broken bowroller. "You are NOT going to believe what I just saw!" I led him downstairs to the toilet, and of course we must have made too much noise or vibration coming into the bathroom because I watched as the octopus quickly jetted down the hole and out of sight, right before Kevin could see it. I'm sure Kevin was thinking something along the lines of, "Look I've got a broken boat here and apparently now my wife has gone off the deep end." But it was there, I swear! It's got to still be down there somewhere, so maybe if I'm patient enough the little guy will come back up to the surface for a look around. So, if anyone needs me, I'll be in the bathroom, staring at the toilet.

***12 Hours Later***
So no, I haven't been staring at the toilet all day. We left the thing alone, hoping it would find its own way out of its predicament. But just now, Kevin went down there and tried to figure out if the thing was still in there and sure enough it was. And with his own eyes he saw it crawling around down into the hole. No joke. So I am truly not making this up; there is another witness. Kevin is not completely convinced it's an actual octopus, but I still think it's something with eyes and a bunch of legs so if it's not an octopus it might be a squid. We aren't really sure what to do. We didn't want to flush it down the toilet because it has a three-blade macerator (like a garbage disposal) that will surely kill it, and to be honest I kind of feel sorry for it. I mean, the little guy is obviously having a really, really bad day. Kevin tried to fish it out with a disposable plastic spoon but it got scared and crawled further down. Yeah, I know "Ick" but what else are we supposed to do? This whole thing is too weird. I think Kevin has given up for tonight so we'll just see what happens in the morning.

Grand Anse D'Arlet, Martinique

Grand Anse D'Arlet

Thursday morning we motored three miles from Le Marin to Sainte Anne, which is one of the biggest anchorages we've seen: a huge stretch of beach, and water about 25 feet deep for about a mile outwards of the beach, all good sandy holding. What was great was you could probably have fit a thousand boats in there easily, but on the day we arrived there were only a hundred or so and everyone was well spread-out. Except of course for the one boat that came up a couple hours after we anchored and decided to anchor within 200 feet of us, then proceeded to have a loud shouting match with the husband yelling obscenities in French at his wife. Why we always attract the wackos, I'll never know. We did go ashore and hiked up the hill to get a good view of the anchorage. The town of Sainte Anne was quaint, like a weekend tourist town with lots of little souvenir places and restaurants.

The next day, despite the forecast of 20-plus knots gusting to 30, we decided to head to another anchorage. Our friends on Jacumba are southbound and we wanted to meet up with them before they crossed to St. Lucia. Because the wind was howling we decided not to raise the sails even though we'd be going downwind. As we left the Sainte Anne anchorage, the wind was literallly screaming at us. Specifically, it was screaming "Stay where you are, you idiots, can't you see the whitecaps?!" But we didn't listen, and we could literally feel the wind and waves propelling us (even without sails) at speeds upwards of 8 knots. We were surprised to be pretty much the only boat going downwind, which even in thirty knots is relatively comfortable compared to the fifteen or so boats we saw bashing to windward. We finally arrived at Grand Anse D'Arlet and had just dropped the anchor when a huge gust of wind pushed the boat back so fast that we yanked hard on the chain. We both heard a loud "PINGGG!" and watched in horror as a piece of our bow roller (which centers and guides the anchor chain) went flying through the air and landed in the water. We were able to get the boat situated and amazingly I found the piece sitting shinily on the bottom near some coral. One of the ends had sheared completely. Whoops. Guess we'll be looking for a machine shop while we're here, better get out the French dictionary.

But we did get to spend the evening catching up with our friends Mike and Renee on Jacumba, who are also from Phoenix, and are friends with Kevin's brother. We have emailed them but never met them in person, so it was nice to finally meet them face to face over drinks and appetizers.

Where we are:
Location=Grand Anse D'Arlet, Martinique
Lat=14 30.281
Lon=61 05.383

Le Marin, Martinique

We sailed (yes, sailed!) into Martinique yesterday afternoon. Wind was about 15-20 knots and seas were 5-8 feet, so at first it was a little choppy but it smoothed out as the passage went on. Our chartplotter gave us a maximum speed of 21.9 knots, which we know is not true since we were passed by a much faster-moving monohull while we made the passage. So the chartplotter must have got hold of an invalid data point somewhere. I'll just blame it on lousy programming, ha-ha.

We cleared in at customs and immigration this morning, which is usually a pleasure in the French islands. However, Le Marin is all modern and sophisticated and instead of filling out paperwork with something as archaic as a pen they require you to enter the data by computer. But there are only four workstations and there was a long line of people waiting. Making things worse was the excruciatingly slow rate at which all four people were typing. I say typing, but really every one of them was using the hunt-and-peck method, which is normally fine but when ten people are waiting to use four PC's it can be annoying. So it was finally our turn to step up to the plate and since I am the faster typist, I sat down at the keyboard. Qnd proceeded to ;istype qll;ost every word. Apparently French keyboards are not qwerty -- seems they have rearranged the thing to suit their own language, so 'q' is where 'a' should be and 'm' is hiding way off to the right with a semicolon taking its place. No wonder everyone was typing so damn slowly! But we finally finished and printed our form and were good to go. The customs official didn't even look at our passports or our St. Lucia paperwork. The French couldn't care less who you are or where you've been. Bienvenue a France!

The town of Le Marin isn't anything great as far as tourist attractions go, but it is chock full of boat chandleries, sail lofts, mechanics, and pretty much anything you'd want if you needed to work on your boat. We didn't need any of that stuff so we headed off to the grocery store, which puzzlingly is simply named "Ed", not sure why. We didn't need any food but we did want to get ahold of some wine. French wines are cheap here (well cheaper than in the US anyway; there's no duty because we are technically in France) so we made a resolution to try a few bottles. Neither of us knows the first thing about wine so we formulated a brilliant plan: hang out in the wine aisle until some French-looking person wandered by to pick up a bottle and then just get whatever they got. The master plan was foiled by not one but two French matrons who each grabbed a box of wine (a la Gallo) instead of one of the many bottles on the shelves. Argh. Determined to return to the boat with something in a glass container, we ended up randomly choosing a white Bourgogne chardonnay and a red Brouilly (which I can't even pronounce since it has too many l's. Must be good, then.) Wonder which one will go best with pizza, since that's what I'm making tonight. Classy, I know. Bottoms up!

Where we are:
Location=Le Marin, Martinique
Lat=14 27.947
Lon=60 52.547

Rodney Bay - Pigeon Island

It's been a quiet couple of days here in Rodney Bay. Quiet except for the incessant jet skis, that is. There are several huge resorts along the beach and of course all of them have their own armada of beach toys -- hobie cats, banana boats, etc. I've come to tolerate the jet skis, but yesterday two yahoos on a hobie cat came a little too close to our boat; they almost didn't turn in time. I do wonder sometimes if there are ever any accidents.

Speaking of accidents, Saturday morning Kevin dinghied over to the fuel dock to fill our jerry jugs and watched two boats damage themselves while getting fuel. The first one was a catamaran -- the wind was blowing him hard onto the dock and instead of using his engines to maneuver himself off the dock he just put them both in full throttle forward and tried to power off the dock. Worked really well until he tried to turn the bow to the wind, his transom scraped pretty hard against the pilings and he got pushed back up against the dock. Ouch. Then a powerboat beat up his props trying to tie up inside the T-head where the water was too shallow for his boat. I guess we're just glad it wasn't us. When the wind starts pushing you around, docking can be a real pain in the butt.

That afternoon we decided to head over to Pigeon Island where we'd heard there was a good book exchange. So we took about twenty paperbacks and headed across the bay. We pulled up to the dinghy dock and a woman wearing a National Trust shirt asked us to pay the park fee of US$5 per person, even though we were just going to trade books at the bar. So we paid our fee, traded our books (at least the book swap was free), and decided to explore a bit since we'd already paid for it. Pigeon Island (not really an island -- a causeway built in 1970 links it to the mainland) has an interesting history. The first European to settle on St. Lucia was a Frenchman named Jambe de Bois (literally "leg of wood", yep a real live pegleg), and he used the island as a base for raiding Spanish ships. Later the Brits established Fort Rodney on the island, and even more recently the US used the island as a signal station in WWII. Imagine getting that plum assignment, instead of being shipped off to Normandy. Although the locals must not have been too happy about the outpost, since the interpretive display referred to it as "the US occupation", failing to mention that the US paid to lease the island and established the station to keep an eye on Martinique (a French territory) after the fall of France to the Germans. But who wants to split hairs? Anyway, after a bit of a hike we reached the fort which was high up on the hill with views of both the bay and the Caribbean Sea. Big kudos to Kevin for doing the hike with a backpack full of books.

Rodney Bay - The Mystery of the Weeping Mast

Weeping Mast

The last couple of days have been spent putting the boat back in order after having guests: doing laundry, putting gear back in the guest closet, etc. We were sad to discover that the Rodney Bay Marina didn't have a coin-op laundry, and their laundry service wanted an astonishing US$18/load to wash dry and fold. No way. So we gave all the big stuff (sheets, towels, etc) to a cheaper local laundromat called Sparkle that picks it up by boat and delivers it the same day for US$11. Still expensive, but not outright highway robbery. But we still had about four loads of laundry to do on the boat, so we spent our last day in the marina hooked up to shore power getting that done. It was late afternoon and we were sitting in the salon when Kevin noticed a drip on his arm coming from the compression post (the post directly under our mast). We looked and water was seeping out around the whole post. We were worried about that because it had been raining and the last thing we need is a leaky mast. So Kevin tore apart the headliner (ceiling) and discovered that it wasn't just the compression post but the whole fiberglass ceiling that was wet. The water wasn't coming from just one place, it was more like condensation instead of a leak. But we couldn't figure out why. The air temperature inside the boat was the same as outside the boat. So was the humidity. It was a head-scratcher. It finally dawned on Kevin and he asked, "When was the last time we washed -- and dried -- four loads of laundry on the boat?". Well, we never had. Usually we use the machine to wash and then hang stuff outside to air-dry, but it was too rainy so we were using the dryer. Which, as it turns out, was causing water to condense all over the compartments where the dryer exhaust was connected. Mystery solved! Elementary, my dear Watson.

We left the marina yesterday and are now anchored out in Rodney Bay just off Reduit Beach, waiting for good weather to make the 22-mile passage to Martinique.

Where we are:
Location=Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
Lat=14 04.504
Lon=60 57.450

St. Lucia - Playing Tourist

Diver Denny

We scaled the peaks one day and dove the depths the next. My dad, Kevin, and I all went for a two-tank dive at the base of the Pitons. Both dives were drift dives but the second one "Superman's Flight" was the best. We got to swim with a turtle and we seemed to "fly" over the bright corals below. So we definitely got the most out of our time in Soufriere. We headed back up to Marigot hoping to hit the Friday night Fish Fry in Anse La Reye, which Kevin really wanted to go to, but it wasn't meant to be. Not only did cabbies want US$80 or more (to go a mere 2 miles, mind you. For reference, a cab ride the whole length of the island to the airport actually costs less: US$70!) but also the weather was not cooperating. It rained right up until we made the decision not to go, and then sure enough it was clear for the rest of the night. So we hung out in Marigot instead and ate dinner at Chateau Mygo, where at least one of us was happy: the music they were playing seemed specifically selected for my dad (all Bee Gees, all the time).

For my dad's last few days in St. Lucia, we headed up to Rodney Bay where all the resorts and good beaches are. He and Suzie definitely got in some good beach time (those of you who know me well know that I'm neither a sun person nor a sand person, so I just hung out on a chair under an umbrella, cold Piton in hand). We also took a side trip to a small inland town called Babonneau to check out the rainforest. And the zip lines. I had never done a zipline before, but the whole experience was worth it. First we rode up in a "tranopy" gondola above the rainforest canopy while our guide Akim pointed out interesting flora and fauna. Then we got to zip through 10 different lines, flying high above the forest floor (we'll try to post videos in the next day or so). It was definitely a cool and different way to see the rainforest.

Ready to Zipline

On their last day in town, we headed into Castries, the capital of St. Lucia, to see the straw market. It's really more than a straw market; they have all kinds of handicrafts, clothing and souvenirs. It was bigger than the ones we'd been to in the Bahamas and Grenada, but just like those markets everyone is pretty much selling the same thing, so we can't really figure out how all the vendors stay in business. Most of the touristy "St. Lucia" T-shirts and Polos were about US$12-20. However, after we tired of the market we wandered around the downtown and found a Hobie outlet (where the locals must shop) and saw jeans, cute tops, and all kinds of good stuff for EC$10-30 (roughly US$4-11). I guess the ladies at the market sell one Bob Marley t-shirt to a cruise ship tourist and then go buy themselves a couple new outfits with the profits. Nice. If I ever go back to work, maybe I'll try to get in on that racket.

Where we are:
Location=Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
Lat=14 04.473
Lon=60 56.946

Soufriere - Gros Piton

At the top

When my dad arrived and said he wanted to hike one of the Pitons, we humored him and said "Sure, great idea" thinking that once he saw the size of the mountains he would change his mind. He still wanted to go, but we agreed it might be best to just go halfway up. We called ahead and made arrangements to hire a guide (the forestry department requires you to go with one) to hike Gros Piton. Gros Piton (2671 feet) is the more hikeable Piton. Although not as tall as Gros Piton, Petit Piton is very steep and at some points you have to climb on fixed ropes. So we met up with Mervin, our guide, and set off up the mountain. Somewhere along the way, the plan for only hiking halfway up turned into going for the summit. Round trip, it's a four-hour hike: two hours up and two hours to get back down. It's an elevation change of 1900 feet from trailhead to summit (compared to 1100 feet for Camelback Mountain in Phoenix). The last half of the ascent was extremely steep and we were all feeling it. Except Mervin, of course. He didn't even break a sweat. It was also impressive that he was hiking in what appeared to be women's shoes (plastic multicolored jelly sandals).

Gros Piton Summit

Anyway the view from the top was priceless. There was a southern viewpoint where you could see St. Vincent on a clear day (too hazy for us), and a northern viewpoint with views of Petit Piton all the way to Martinique (again, not clear enough the day we went). I will say that the hike back down was excruciating for me, very hard on the knees and joints. It felt like it took forever but finally we got back to the village of Fond Gens Libre, where a nice lady was waiting with a cooler full of drinks, and of course a gift shop full of T-shirts.

Soufriere - Bounty of the Sea

We sailed from Anse Cochon down to Soufriere. The wind was gusty, there were times we were going 8.5 knots, and then the wind would die off and we would slow down to a crawl -- about 2 knots. But Kevin threw a couple of lines out hoping maybe the fish would like the fact that for once we weren't using the engines. It was worth a shot, but sadly there was no fresh fish for dinner last night. But Kevin did pull something useful out of the sea. After we picked up the mooring we all went for a snorkel and he found two full unopened beers resting on the bottom among the coral. Did we pull them out? You bet. They are chilling on ice right now. If we were French we'd call them fruits de la mer, but since we're not we'll just call them sea beers.

Where we are:
Location=Soufriere, St. Lucia
Lat=13 51.433
Lon=61 03.913

Anse Cochon -- Surprise!

Sorry for the lack of posts this week -- it has been a busy one. Back in January, my dad mentioned that he might be able to come out for a visit in February or March. I told him to keep me posted of his plans and let us know. We checked our SSB email the afternoon of February 6th and found a message with this subject: "I am booking a flight for Feb 7". What?!!? So for the next 24 hours the boat was a whirlwind of activity as we prepared for our guests. My dad and his girlfriend Suzie arrived in Marigot Bay around 11pm the next night. We caught up over a few Pitons (which for some reason, my dad keeps calling "Pintons") and got them settled in.

Marigot Bay Hike

The next day we hiked to a scenic lookout over Marigot Bay. We had to walk through Marigot Beach Resort to get to the trail. You know it's steep when the resort gives its guests the option of walking up 250 stairs or taking a mini-cable car. We took the stairs, plus the hike, and though my calves were sore the next day the view was totally worth it. Marigot Bay has more tourist resorts than Soufriere, so there is definitely more nightlife. We decided to do a pub crawl that evening. We started off at JJ's Cantina for happy hour, where we were approached by Christine, an island lady who braids hair. She gave Suzie a "gift" of two braids; she claimed she could braid "like a computer" and she wasn't kidding -- you could barely see her fingers they were moving so fast. (She was so good that Suzie actually had Christine do the rest of her hair the next day.) Our next stop was the Rainforest restaurant. Our guidebook said it was a fancy place, but we weren't prepared for the valet service at the dinghy dock. It was dark, and a well-dressed guy walked out with a flashlight and guided us to the right spot for the dink (in a small lagoon lit with underwater lights) and helped tie us up. Finally we headed over to the Hurricane Hole bar, where three of us had the lobster dinner and Kevin enjoyed the best burger yet in the Caribbean (our apologies to Chris and Barb -- the burgers down at the Oasis are a close second!). By this time we were all a little hammered, so we skipped the other two bars in the bay and headed back to the boat. My thanks to the makers of Piton for my killer hangover the next day.

Lesleen M Wreck

Yesterday afternoon we headed over to Anse Cochon and found some pretty good snorkeling. There is a wreck (the Lesleen M) lying in about 65 feet of water just a few hundred feet from our boat. The visibility was good and we could see the whole length of the wreck (165 feet). It was a freighter that was sunk on purpose to create an artificial reef. There were quite a few fish, a lot of sergeant-majors and we even saw a green turtle swimming around down there. Nearer to shore there was some excellent snorkeling as well. Today we'll head back down to Soufriere so our guests can get a glimpse of the real Pintons, er Pitons.

Where we are:
Location=Anse Cochon, St. Lucia
Lat=13 55.667
Lon=61 03.513

Soufriere - The Pinnacles

In St. Lucia, you are required to dive with a guide so we enlisted Chester from Action Adventure Divers. He picked us up in his boat and we set off for the Pinnacles -- four seamounts that begin more than 70 feet deep and rise to within a few feet of the surface. The pinnacles were originally volcanic but are now encrusted with a colorful variety of corals and sponges. Fish spiral around them and we felt like we were flying around underwater mountains. The colors were incredible, bright oranges and pinks along with neon greens. We will definitely do some more diving while we are here.

Soufriere - Holy Pitons, Batman!

Yesterday morning we woke up early and headed over to the Bat Cave area to pick up one of the moorings (without sails this time). Solstice is just a hundred feet or so away from the area's namesake -- a tall narrow cave loaded with bats. We can hear their high-pitched chattering all day long. Later in the morning we took a taxi tour to the main sights of Soufriere. Our first stop was the Diamond Estates Botanical Gardens, where we were shown around by a site guide named Alexander the Great. He had long fingernails, a few missing teeth, and a lot of energy. He claimed to have had special botanical training and we believed him. He knew the common and scientific names as well as the origins of every plant in the place. He must've told us about a hundred different plants in the space of thirty minutes. He was shouting and pointing them out at such a fast pace that it all became a jumble, but the flowers were gorgeous and the temperature was cool under the tree canopies so we weren't complaining.

Drive-in Volcano

After the gardens we took a taxi to the "drive-in" volcano, which is really just hillside covered in sulfur springs not unlike the ones you see at Yellowstone (the crater walls of the original volcano eroded thousands of years ago and there hasn't been any kind of eruption in three-hundred-odd years). The stink of hydrogen sulfide was overpowering, and Kevin shot a video of some of the bubbling pools of muddy water. The mudpool named "Gabriel's Pool" has an interesting story behind it. Apparently tourists used to be able to go right up close to the pools but about fifteen years ago one of the guides, Gabriel, was jumping up and down to demonstrate the instability of the terrain when the ground caved and he fell waist-deep into the boiling mud. (Not to worry: he narrowly avoided winning a "Darwin Award"; he survived and still has the use of his legs. He has, however, changed professions and is now a fisherman in Soufriere.) After the sulfur springs we hopped back in the taxi to view a small waterfall and then we called it a day and headed back to the boat. Kevin fixed the swim ladder and we had a snorkel off the boat -- there's a really good variety of fish and coral here. As the sun set we watched and waited expectantly for the bats to burst out of the cave in one big swarm but it didn't happen.

This morning we dinghied ashore and wandered around the friendly town of Soufriere for a bit before taking a taxi over to the Ladera Resort to have lunch at Dasheene restaurant. We found the food to be so-so but the view was breathtaking. Dasheene is nestled on a hill between the two Pitons (St. Lucia's famed steep coastal mountains) and we had the best table in the place, overlooking the valley and bay between them. During the meal we knocked back a couple of liquid Pitons (locally brewed beer) and enjoyed what is definitely the best view in all the Caribbean.

Where we are:
Location=Soufriere, St. Lucia
Lat=13 51.435
Lon=61 03.913

Soufriere, St. Lucia

Yesterday we spent an hour digging out our scuba gear in order to try to dive the Devil's Table. I say "try" because we weren't very successful. We finally got both sets of gear into the dinghy and motored out there only to find a very strong current and tide-driven surge. It was definitely unsafe for two people to dive on their own without a chaseboat; we would've drifted out halfway to St. Vincent! So we headed back in. Not to let all that prep-work go to waste, Kevin decided to don his gear in order to scrub Solstice's props and hull. Unfortunately it ended up being more of a hassle than it was worth (we usually just use snorkel gear instead of scuba gear) -- we were only in 6-8 feet of water and he kept stirring up sediment so that he couldn't see. And to top it off he got himself, his wetsuit, and his BCD covered in tiny brine shrimp (think Sea Monkeys). Ick. But then he tried to climb out of the water while still wearing full gear and he broke the swim ladder off -- what a fiasco! One of the brackets broke completely and the other one is bent and twisted. So now we can't go swimming. Well, we can go swimming but can't get back aboard the boat without getting smurfy blue bottom paint all over ourselves. We knew those brackets were chintzy so we do have two spares but Kevin didn't have time to fix it yesterday since we still had to grab some last-minute groceries and clear out of the country.

Approaching St. Lucia

We left Bequia at 4am this morning for the 55 mile journey to St. Lucia. We had our sails up but winds were very very light, almost nothing. In fact at one point the sea in the St. Vincent Channel looked like glass; it was a very strange sight to see in an area known for its steady tradewinds. So we motored with our sails up. We gave up and dropped the jib but left the main up (this will factor into the story later). We arrived around noon and had hoped to pick up a mooring in an area known as the Bat Cave, but as we headed into Soufriere we could see that all of those were taken. Plan B was to pick up a mooring ball in a different area, Malgretout, at the base of one of the Pitons. A boat boy came up in his skiff and offered to tie us up. (In the Malgretout anchorage, you pick up a mooring but then you also have to tie your stern to a tree on the beach.) Malcolm helped get us situated and then started giving us information about the area and offering to arrange a taxi to customs and possibly a tour for tomorrow. So after Malcolm left, Kevin went up to the bow to check on the mooring line and he just happened to look back and notice that our mainsail was still up. We had picked up the damn mooring, tied ourselves up broadside to the wind about 150 feet from the rock-strewn shore, and then sat there chatting for ten minutes! Which just goes to show how little we actually sail. Folks watching us pick up the mooring must've thought we were either total pros or total idiots, depending on their perspective. Thank goodness there was no wind at all and we were able to quickly and sheepishly take down the sail. I am still shaking my head in amazement -- who forgets to take down their sails?!? Proof that no matter how long you have been cruising you are bound to do something pretty dumb every once in a while.

Where we are:
Location=Soufriere, St. Lucia
Lat=13 50.632
Lon=61 03.787

Bequia - Music Fest 2008

Steel Orchestra in Bequia

On Thursday night, Bequia's annual Music Fest kicked off to a great start with the 13-piece Elite Steel Orchestra. Luckily for us it stopped raining long enough for us to dinghy in and meet up with Mike & Kylie from "Meggie". The music had already started by the time we got there and there was a big crowd of people dancing and enjoying the music. The steel band was very good, and played everything from Beethoven's "Fur Elise" to more recent stuff like Alicia Keys' "No One". We've posted some photos and will hopefully post a video as well.

Saturday afternoon we headed out in the dinghy to a good snorkel spot affectionately called the "Devil's Table". The coral was okay, nothing spectacular, but the reef was teeming with activity. It was late afternoon and all the reef fish were in a feeding frenzy, so there was lots to look at. We also saw a small group of two-inch cuttlefish, which looked like tiny aliens hovering in the water.

Lobster Dinner, Anyone?

And just before we got out of the water, Kevin spotted a big old lobster taking shelter underneath a coral overhang. We must've irritated the heck out of him, as we kept diving down and getting as close as possible trying to get the "perfect shot" with our camera. He didn't complain though; he was probably just happy we didn't take him home for dinner.

Yesterday afternoon, both "Lucky Dog" (who we met in Mayreau) and "Meggie" stopped by to let us know that there was a free concert on the beach. It was the last day of the Music Fest, and we had nothing better to do (except do our taxes -- hmmm...tough decision, there) so we headed over. The beach was gorgeous and there were people swimming, hanging out on the sand, and of course dancing to the music. We listened to a jazz ensemble followed by a reggae band and both were really really good. There was a fun festival atmosphere and at the beer tent they were giving away these lottery-type scratch off tickets for every Hairoun (local beer) purchased. Of course Kevin's ticket was a winner and he got to choose from an array of prizes. The only really appealing thing were these bright orange baseball caps bearing the "Vita Malt" logo. Now, we've seen this drink throughout the Caribbean but never actually tried it. It is apparently a non-alcoholic carbonated malty-tasting nutrition drink. Not something I'd be likely to order but now that my husband is a walking billboard for it, we'll have to give it a try sometime.

Bequia - Windswept

Windy Day

Well we are getting plenty of power out of the wind generator. For the past day and a half winds have steadily been up over 20 knots in the harbor. At least Admiralty Bay is well-protected so the anchorage itself isn't rolly. Just windy. Very, very, windy. In fact last night Kevin and I were sitting outside when the wind started to howl and within ten minutes we saw all these red and green navigation lights on in the bay -- the lights of boats who had dragged in the gusts and were now motoring around looking for another place to anchor in the dark. Our anchor is holding well so far and we've been lucky that none of the boats in front of us have dragged either (knock wood).

On Saturday afternoon, we walked across to the windward side of the island with Mike and Kylie from "Meggie". We met up with some friends of theirs, Alan and Liz, who have just bought property here near Industry Bay. Their property was amazing; it was on a hill overlooking beach/reef views, no other houses (or land) in front of them to spoil the view -- and for a second Kevin's eyes lit up when he saw a "For Sale" sign on a neighboring parcel. But we found out the price and it sounds too rich for our blood. Anyway, the nearby beach was lovely and there was a great beach bar with nice lounge chairs where we all sat and basked in the late afternoon sun.

Kevin and Amanda in Bequia

On Monday Kevin and I headed ashore for a leisurely lunch at the Gingerbread restaurant. I say "leisurely" because it always takes a while to get your order there, but who can complain when you are sitting on a terrace enjoying the breeze and views of the bay? Anyway it was fortunate that we spent such a long time at the restaurant because just before we got the bill, another group sat down at the table next to us. Kevin whispered, "Hey, look over to your right..." You may remember back on Mustique that we never did run into Mick Jagger or any other celebrities. Well, our luck had turned because seated not ten feet from us was Donald Sutherland, actor and father of Jack Bauer (er, I mean Kiefer Sutherland). His white mane of hair and piercing eyes were unmistakable but his trademark voice confirmed that it was really him and not just a doppelganger. He must have a house here on the island because Kevin overheard him ask his guests if there was "anything else on the island" they wanted to see while they were here. We looked around for Kiefer but after checking Yahoo News we realized he was stuck in California (having just been released from 48 days in jail).

Bequia -- Get Ready to Ruummmbble!

So we are settling in for a good long stay in Bequia, one of our favorite islands. We were dinghying into town the other day for lunch and noticed a familiar boat in the harbor. Mike and Kylie are some friends we met while in Grenada and their boat Meggie is a beautiful classic wooden yacht (can't remember the make). Kevin recognized it right away so we dinghied over to say hi. Seems like they'll also be hanging out here for a bit while the winds are blowing (20 knots plus for at least the next week). Luckily Bequia is a great place to chill out. Lots of great inexpensive restaurants, like the one we went to for lunch that afternoon -- delicious boneless chicken rotis (note to unsuspecting travelers: ordering boneless is key. The island chopping technique of breaking down a chicken means serious mouth injuries otherwise!) and drinks for two was less than US$10.

Last night we had the Meggie crew over for drinks and dinner. They introduced us to what is sure to be a new favorite drink: rum and ginger ale with lime. Very good, and no blender required! Plus, they brought a bottle of St. Vincent rum called "Sunset" which we found to be better than our typical stock, which is just whatever rotgut is cheapest at the store! Mike and Kylie are our age and have similar cruising plans for the next couple of seasons so it was nice to get to know them better, since I'm sure we'll be running into them in more anchorages along the way. We had a good time and hung out talking until 10pm -- which is a raging Friday night party by cruisers' standards!

So it's now Saturday morning and Kevin and I are getting ready to resume a task that we've been working on all week: tagging our mp3's by genre. Kevin has loaded all our CD's into our player (talk about eclectic) and we realized that when we put it on "shuffle" we get some seriously random tracks: classical, followed by disco and finished with a dose of funky soul (ahh...James Brown, HIT me!). So we decided to categorize everything so we could just shuffle within each category. Easy, right? Not so fast! You might be surprised to hear that opinions and tempers flared in our normally mild-mannered household. Who would believe that people could care enough to fight over whether Madonna belongs in Teen Pop or Electronica/Dance? Or if Michelle Branch should fall into the same category as Britney Spears? For the record, Kevin thinks Madonna falls into Teen Pop (eye roll) and thought I was crazy for thinking the other two belonged in the same category. The funniest part is that we were having the biggest fights over music we weren't even that likely to listen to! And of course Kevin throws out, "I'm just surprised that you are being so stubborn and opinionated." (Oh no you didn't!) When I pointed out that, in order to actually be having an argument, he was clearly being just as opinionated and stubborn he replied, "Well yeah, but I'm right." At this point we realized that we'd only got through three letters of the alphabet, so we laughed if off and called it a day. But Round 2 begins as soon as I'm done typing this so..."Let's get it on!" (In the Mills Lane boxing sense, as opposed to Marvin Gaye.)

Bequia, SVG

We've been in Bequia since Saturday, and plan to stick around for at least another week or so. On the way over we had a nice sail: 15-20 knots wind on the beam, with no waves -- we were doing nearly 9 knots until we had to turn upwind to make it into Admiralty Bay. We like Bequia; there are lots of restaurants and shops, and the water is flat and calm even in strong winds. We stopped in at one of the local boat chandleries where we picked up a replacement boat hook. We also went out for our anniversary dinner at L'Auberge des Grenadines, where we ordered some of the biggest and freshest lobsters we've ever seen.

Where we are:
Location=Bequia, SVG
Lat=13 00.652
Lon=61 14.611

Mustique - (Can't Get No) Satisfaction

Our guidebooks describe Mustique as an island hideaway for the rich and famous. We read that David Bowie has sold up and moved away, but Mick Jagger is still kicking around and in fact is on the island as we speak. (We haven't run into him -- yet.) The island is privately owned by the Mustique Company, and while they don't limit who can come here by boat they do charge a fee to anchor or pick up a mooring which means that some folks give the island a miss so the anchorage is not too crowded. Besides there are only three restaurant/bars on the island, and our wardrobes preclude us from going to two of them (Ties & jackets? Only if foul weather jackets count!). Basil's Bar is the most casual of the three and we arrived on a Wednesday, just in time for Basil's Wednesday night buffet and jump-up.

Main Street, Mustique

The buffet dinner started late for us (8pm!), so we arrived a little early and hung out by the door keeping our eyes peeled for aging rock stars or any of society's creme de la creme. We didn't see any drunk socialites, but let me tell you the Euro-tourists were so entertaining that we weren't disappointed. The food was pricey but nothing special; we actually wished we'd skipped dinner and just paid the US$6 entry fee for the jump-up (translation: dance party) afterward. The band started out with a cheesy rendition of Lionel Richie's "Stuck On You", which is apparently more popular in other parts of the world than you think it is (or than it should be). But from there it proceeded to reggae and soca and soon the dance floor was crowded with tourists hilariously getting their groove on. Remember those Peanuts cartoons when the kids jam out while Schroeder plays the Linus & Lucy theme? Well this was like Charlie Brown on speed. Good grief! But we hung out and enjoyed the band until almost twelve (okay, you got me -- 11:15!).

Cotton House Lily Pond

The next day we took a walk across the island over to the Cotton House Resort, where we had drinks at the beach bar (their regular bar being one of the two more exclusive ones -- people wearing sweaty baseball caps need not apply). Again, no celebrity sightings to report but the drink prices at the beach bar were more reasonable than expected (we were hungry but quick glance at the menu revealed that a BLT was US$17, so we just stuck to the drinks!). Then this morning we wandered up in the direction of Firefly (the other one of the "dress code" bars) and at 10am it was empty so we ventured inside to see what we were missing. It was really posh and had stellar views of the harbor, but being hot and sweaty from our hike up the hill we opted not to spend too much time there. Afterward, on our way down the hill we walked along with a friendly (and chatty) local boat captain named Garnett, who filled us in on all the dish about the island and its residents. He's had the chance to ferry around some of the rich, famous, and royal (yes, both Prince William and Harry!) and in fact just a few days ago he saw Mr. Jagger himself. Well, we leave tomorrow and it's looking doubtful that we'll spot ol' Mick. But then again you know what they say: "You Can't Always Get What You Want".

Mustique - Man Overboard!

We spent a few more nights over in Mayreau in an anchorage on the windward side of the island. It was a much quieter spot; only one other boat anchored there during the time we were there. Troy and Winnie live aboard their trawler "Lucky Dog" with three cats and a German Shepherd the size of a small bear. We had drinks with them on their boat and we had a nice evening.

We then headed up to Canouan, which is the next island to the north. It's the base for the Moorings charter company, and it is also home to a huge Raffles resort. We spent the afternoon walking around the island, and the road along the windward side had some beautiful reef views. When we got back down to the bay we bought a couple sodas and "limed" with young guy named Martin and an old local sailor named "Sheriff". Sheriff claimed to have lived all over the world, from Norway to Taipei. Then he offered to sell us some of his land on Canouan, as he took a sip of his rum and juice. We couldn't tell if all his stories were true or not but they were interesting to say the least. The younger guy, Martin, was curious as to where our children were while we were living on the boat. We explained that we didn't have any and seemed pretty amazed by that. He advised us to start having some right away. This is about the fourth or fifth time that we've run into someone who was surprised that we didn't have a family. I guess in the islands most people our age would already have several kids. So I asked Martin how many kids he had. "None yet," was the reply. "First I got to find a good wife, then we have thirteen kids. Lots of kids." Wow. Ladies of Canouan, be warned!

Bent Boathook

This morning we got an early start and motorsailed up to Mustique. Britannia Bay in Mustique is a protected harbor and they prefer that you take a mooring instead of anchoring. Normally Kevin drives the boat while I stand on the bow and pick up the mooring with the boat hook. But these moorings didn't have pendants so that meant we'd have to thread our line directly through the mooring. It would have been easy if we hadn't given away our Happy Hooker (a tool just for this purpose, but that we had never used in nearly 3 years of sailing) back in Grenada! So Kevin suggested we switch: that I should be at the helm while he picked up the mooring. I was a little nervous because I rarely have the helm in these situations and didn't want to do anything embarrassing, such as run over a line or crash into another boat. So I very carefully approached the mooring, and Kevin bent over to thread our line. I watched in amazement as I saw his torso go overboard, followed by his legs. The big splash that followed was confirmation that my eyes weren't deceiving me. I made sure both engines were in neutral and just stayed at the helm, figuring that since he was in the water already he should be able to thread our line through the eye no problem. (I am nothing if not practical.) He finally called me up to the bow to catch the end of the line as he tossed it to me. As I secured the line I looked up and realized we had provided the morning's entertainment for the people on the boat in front of us, who were grinning as Kevin loudly announced that the next show would start at 1:30. Luckily Kevin was unharmed; I wish I could say the same for our boat hook. The aluminum pole was bent in two places and so badly kinked that it couldn't be bent back into shape.

[Kevin's Post]Hey, at least I got it on the first try!

Where we are:
Location=Mustique, SVG
Lat=12 52.738
Lon=61 11.347

Mayreau - I Like Big Boats and I Cannot Lie!

Saline Bay, Mayreau

Well we arrived in Saline Bay, Mayreau three days ago. When we anchored we could see a huge cruise ship over in the next bay. We watched as their two tenders ferried hundreds of people to and from the island's gorgeous beach. Rather than deal with the crowds, we just hung out on the boat. All the cruise ship passengers were back on the boat before sundown and we got to watch the boat literally sail off into the sunset (it was one of those cruise ships with five giant masts and a bunch of sails).

Then yesterday morning we were jarred awake by the sound of a very nearby, very loud ship's horn. We looked out the port window and an enormous ship (the daily mailboat/ferry) was sitting in the water about 50 feet to the left of us, honking its horn repeatedly because too many other boats were anchored near the town dock. We weren't in the way, so we just sat out in the cockpit and watched four or five boats scramble to pull up their anchors and get out of the way. Later yesterday afternoon we did go ashore, and we found a gorgeous landscaped beach and a sleepy little town. We hiked up to the top of the hill where there was a tiny but pretty church with a fabulous view of the reefs on the windward side of Mayreau as well as the Tobago Cays in the distance. We had a rum punch at the Combination Cafe and glanced at some of the souvenirs. It seems that most people's livelihood here is dependent on the tourist industry. Even though it wasn't a cruise ship day and there were only a handful of tourists on the island, all the local ladies still had hung up all their souvenir t-shirts and colorful sarongs and had their tables arranged with artwork and jewelry. The island only has a population of 500 people, so it's a huge boost to the economy when a cruise ship comes and drops 2000 tourists off for the afternoon. Cruise ship season ends in March according to the bartender, so it makes you wonder what they do during the summertime.

Sharing the anchorage

This morning we were again woken up by a loud noise. This time it was the sound of massive anchors being dropped by the cruise ship that decided to anchor right behind us. Literally. We peered out the back port and they had dropped their first anchor about 500 feet behind us (which is pretty far back for a normal-sized boat, but a little close for a cruise ship!) Anyway, I'm sure their tenders will be zipping back and forth all day, dropping people off at the beach, so we are planning to avoid the commotion and go anchor in another bay.

Where we are:
Location=Mayreau, SVG
Lat=12 38.013
Lon=61 23.926

Union Island - Feeling Great in 08

Happy 2008 everyone! Our New Year's Eve celebration was a little lamer than predicted; Kevin still wasn't feeling too great so we just had dinner on the boat and turned in early (but we did wake up when other people in the anchorage started shouting "Happy New Year", so technically we were awake at midnight). In addition to having a boring New Year's, we've had a pretty boring week so far as well. Kevin can't swim or dive due to his ear, so we've just been hanging out reading, surfing the internet, and in general being "cave dwellers" (a phrase coined by Chris on Moonsail, who noted that all summer we spent 99% of our time in the cool air conditioning on the boat instead of outside. Now that the weather has cooled off, it's pretty comfortable inside the boat even without A/C.) But Kevin's ear is finally starting to feel better, so we will be moving on to the island of Mayreau today, about 3 miles north of here. We've never been there so I'm sure we'll at least leave the cave (I mean, boat) for a few hours to explore ashore...

Union Island - Can You Hear Me Now?

No good deed goes unpunished. Kevin caught an ear infection from snorkeling last week. We think it started while we were at the sculpture garden, but Kevin jumping in the water to look at the charter boat's anchor probably didn't help any. So for the past few days he's been in pain and unable to hear out of his left ear. The Tobago Cays doesn't have any town or even any buildings, so for the first few days we just tried giving him some expired and not-quite-expired antibiotics from our medical stash. Not surprisingly, that didn't help much. After four days with little change we decided to head back over to Union Island where we knew there was a pharmacy and hoped there was a doctor.

We managed to find "our" anchor spot (we've been here three times now and this is the only spot in good sand, with decent wifi access and no moorings around to swing into) and drop the hook. Lucky. Not so lucky was the monohull on a mooring two boats away. A charter catamaran had anchored so that there was maybe two boatwidths between the two boats and the cat kept swinging wildly (the sillies didn't have the bridle on) and coming within 2-3 feet of bumping into the monohull. We watched this in amazement for about 15 minutes (there were people on both boats, both aware of the problem) but rather than wait to see how things turned out we decided to seek medical attention for my ailing husband.

For any boating folk reading this, Erika's Marine Services is one of the friendliest and most helpful local businesses we've come across in the Caribbean. Their main mission is to help cruisers, whether it's with internet access, shipping or receiving mail, laundry, or a free book exchange. In our case they were able to give us the mobile number of the local doctor so that we could make a phone call. Sure enough the doctor was in and could see Kevin right away. The clinic is on a hill overlooking the bay and probably has the best views in town (see the photo we posted). We were greeted by a friendly lady and saw the doctor within five minutes. He was a pretty young-looking guy, but knowledgeable, and he took the time to explain what he saw (yep, the ear was infected, no surprise there). He gave Kevin a prescription for some unexpired medication and some antibiotic eardrops. He explained that there was only one pharmacy in town and gave us typical Caribbean directions: "Down de road. Ask anybody, dey show you where it is".

So we walked back into town, inquired at one of the mini-groceries, and were escorted to the pharmacy by a nice-mannered kid. Despite the shelves lined with Nerve Tonic and Heart Elixir (kidding about the Heart Elixir, not kidding about the Nerve Tonic) we found the pharmacy to be first-rate and the lady pharmacist explained the medications to Kevin in hushed tones while I studied the shelves of island souvenirs. So now hopefully Kevin is on the road to recovery! Over lunch in town we decided we'll probably spend New Year's here; the weather forecast doesn't look great for getting to Mustique like we'd hoped, and we've already been invited to a tempting buffet bash at one of the local restaurants. By the time we got back to our boat, the monohull and the poorly anchored charter catamaran were gone, hopefully both were unscathed.

Where we are:
Location=Union Island, SVG
Lat=12 35.777
Lon=61 24.799

Tobago Cays - A Caribbean Christmas

Merry Christmas, everyone! It's been a quiet couple of days on the boat. In the anchorage there have been a few other boats with Christmas lights on at night, so it's been nice to sit outside in the evenings with the full moon and the twinkly lights on. The weather's been great -- hardly any rain and not too hot during the day (low 80's). The so-called "Christmas Winds" have kicked up so there's a good breeze all day long, and we are getting plenty of power from the wind generator, which has been spinning like crazy for three days.

Santa Claus brought Kevin some flashy fishing lures and Stephen Colbert's book "I Am America (And So Can You!)". I received some cooking DVD's (Iron Chef America, Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations") and a Sansa ipod-type thing. It is the size of an eraser (the square pink ones that gradeschool kids use) and holds 2GB of music, about 300 songs. In the course of contemplating what to put on it, I've been thinking about what music I'd bring if I were on a deserted island. After all if you ignore all the other sailboats, and the boatboys, and the day-charter tourists, we are kind of all alone on a deserted island (three or four islands, in fact). So if I could only pick, say, ten songs to put on my mp3 player, what would they be? Definitely the Beatles' "We Can Work It Out". Also "Train in Vain" by the Clash, "Dancing in the Moonlight" by King Harvest and "Come Dancing" by the Kinks for sure. Possibly Big Audio Dynamite's "Rush". But from there everything falls into a gray area -- there are too many good songs out there! Would I rather have Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" or "Driver 8" by R.E.M.? Decisions, decisions. This may call for some audience (email) participation: if you were stuck on a desert island and could only pick ten songs to listen to, which ten would you pick?

While we were opening presents, we had "A Christmas Story" on in the background. "You'll shoot your eye out, kid." I was tempted to put the DVD on in repeat mode, a la TBS, but you can only watch Randy eat like a piggy so many times before you get a little grossed out. Speaking of eating, we had a semi-traditional Christmas dinner: stuffing, mashed potatoes, and roast beast. Actually just kidding about that last part. The IGA was fresh out of roast beast when we shopped last week. So we barbecued up some hickory-sauced baby back ribs instead. Mmmmm...Christmas!

Tobago Cays -- It Pays to Be Nice

Motoring into the anchorage at the Tobago Cays, we could see that the spot we'd taken when we were here six months ago was unoccupied. We were surprised that the anchorage was a lot less crowded than we expected, maybe 20-30 boats here -- about 60% charter boats and the rest cruisers, although most of the cruisers we know are in Bequia, or Clarke's Court (Merry Christmas Chris & Barb!), or in Antigua (Merry Christmas Linda, Steve, Paul & Ginette!). So we dropped our hook next to the same derelict trimaran (that has been there so long it shows up on Google Earth) and let out the chain. We were in maybe 10 feet of water, far enough in front of all the other boats that there was nothing within a 300-foot radius of us. Nice. As we prepared to back down, we saw a man on the bow of the Moorings charter catamaran behind us, scowling. (We assumed he was scowling; he was too far away to tell for sure but his body language spoke volumes.) We have occasionally needed to use the old "stink eye" when someone anchors too close, so we recognized it right away, regardless of the distance. We were totally puzzled as to why he'd be upset; although we were anchoring in front of them we really were a pretty good distance away. But soon he was joined by a woman and they both began to make angry gestures and shout about their anchor. We couldn't hear them since we were upwind of them, so we waved our VHF around and asked them to call us on the radio, which they did. The man was very upset and informed us that we had anchored "right on top of his anchor". Kevin eyeballed the distance between our boats again and calmly noted, "hmmm, we are about 300 feet in front of you; I'd be surprised if your boat has that much rode" (charter boats usually have minimal equipment, including minimal anchor rode). But the guy persisted, saying that it looked more like only 150 feet max and that he'd let out a lot of rode because last time they were here the wind really kicked up. So Kevin generously offered, "Tell you what: I'll jump in with the snorkel and take a look, and if we're on top of it, we'll move." (If you can tell, we've been infected with the Christmas spirit. Actually we are hoping to be on Santa's "nice" list this year.) So we finished backing down, put the bridle on, and Kevin jumped in the water and started swimming towards the other boat.

It was a long way away. By the time Kevin finally got over there, I'd stopped paying attention. Besides I couldn't hear anything anyway. But Kevin found their anchor about 60 feet in front of them (meaning 250 feet behind us). He hovered over it and signaled to the guy that that was the location of the anchor. Poor guy was incredibly embarrassed and apologized profusely. Kevin very kindly reassured him that sometimes it's hard to gauge distance when there's nothing between you but water. (Are you getting all this, Santa?) Turns out Ron and his wife are from Connecticut and here on charter for Christmas. They chatted for a while and then Kevin swam back and said how sorry the guy was. It was an honest mistake if you are not used to anchoring (and being anchored in front of) every day. Anyway the couple felt so bad that later in the afternoon they dinghied by with Christmas presents: some snacks and bottles of juice from their provisions. Pretty nice! (Thanks, karmic Santa!)

So despite it being 82 degrees and sunny, we are trying to make the most of Christmas. Last night we watched the "Rudolph" tv special (My favorite line: "Eat, Papa, eat!") and played Christmas music while I baked some oatmeal cranberry chocolate chip cookies. "Eat, Kevin, eat!"

Where we are:
Location=Tobago Cays, SVG
Lat=12 37.771
Lon=61 21.362

Petit St. Vincent - SVG

On Friday we motorsailed up the coast of Grenada to check out the new rigging before leaving the country (it was a successful test, meaning that the mast is still standing so the new rigging must be doing it's job, right?) We anchored in Grand Mal Bay which is just south of the Moliniere Bay underwater sculpture park. We took the dinghy to the park and there was already a dive boat there. We saw two moorings, a big white one and a small red one. We headed for the smaller one and as we got close we realized it was moving and was attached to a group of divers below. Oops. With a sheepish look at the guy captaining the dive boat, we tied onto the white mooring. Anyway, the sculpture park: a few years ago an artist came to Grenada and made a bunch of sculptures to be installed underwater. Over time the sculptures change as different varieties of coral and other sea organisms grow on them. They were pretty interesting, the most impressive was a huge circle of people standing and holding hands. We also saw an enormous stingray "guarding" one of the sculptures and eyeing us warily. Anyway, it was nice to do one last bit of sightseeing before we left the country.

Saturday was a long day. We were up at six and made it to Union Island (part of St. Vincent and the Grenadines) just after lunch. While I stayed with the boat in the crowded anchorage, Kevin went ashore to pick up our mail and clear us into the country. There was a wifi hotspot so I also uploaded a few photos and a video of our snorkel adventures from Friday. Then we upped anchor and motorsailed over to Petite Martinique to top up on fuel and load up on duty-free liquor (Kevin even picked up a bottle of champagne for New Year's). Finally, we motored over to Petit St. Vincent and anchored off the resort beach (the whole island is owned by the resort). Kevin fixed pina coladas and we watched the sun go down. As we fell into the bunk, exhausted, we could hear the strains of steel pan music coming from the outdoor restaurant at the beach. Not a bad way to end the day.

Where we are:
Location=Petit St. Vincent, SVG
Lat=12 32.076
Lon=61 23.125

Grenada - Moliniere Bay

On the way out of Grenada, we stopped at the underwater sculpture garden at Moliniere Bay. It was very cool and worth a stop. There are bettery photos at the artist's website: http://www.underwatersculpture.com

Grenada Farewell

If all goes well today will be our last full day in Grenada. The quick haulout for the survey went well yesterday -- we were in the slings at 9am, Bob the surveyor was able to do his thing, Kevin scraped the unwanted barnacles off the hull, paid the bill for hauling (yay -- cheaper than expected!), and we were back in the water and anchored again by 10:30 am. A half-hour later the owner of the rigging shop came by to quality-check the work Wayne had done. He made a few small adjustments and said to come by the shop for the bill after lunch. Which we did, and were again given a bill that was cheaper than quoted -- score! Although maybe it was compensation to Kevin, who spent two days working almost as hard as Wayne, hoisting him up and down the mast. (Usually the rigging guys work in teams of two but since we wanted the job done as fast as possible, Kevin had to pitch in!)

Today the plan is to clear out of customs and immigration. Then tomorrow we will leave early and head up to Union Island to clear into St. Vincent and the Grenadines in time for the holidays. We're looking forward to being on the move again.

Prickly Bay, Grenada - We're outta here

[Kevin's Post]Before we leave Grenada we thought we'd squeeze in one more haulout (that's #6 for those of you keeping track). And let's replace all the rigging too. Actually neither of these were by choice. Our insurance company informed us when we renewed that we needed to have an out of water survey before 2/28/08 (the 3rd anniversary of our last survey). I knew they required a survey less than 3 years old to renew, but I figured since ours was less than 3 years old at renewal time we were good until the next renewal. I was wrong. oops. Sure would have been nice to take care of this a couple months ago while we were out of the water for 3 weeks. I had a surveyor come out last week and begin the survey, tomorrow we haul (at the other Grenada boatyard - take that Grenada Marine!) so he can inspect the bottom. He said our rigging was too old (the wires that hold up the mast) and that he couldn't sign off on it. So he suggested I have an independent rigging inspection. I had some rigging guys come out and the rigging guys agreed with the surveyor that it should all be replaced. Oh good, everyone agrees I should spend more money. Replacing the rigging on a boat is one of the most expensive things you can do short of replacing an engine, but fortunately it is a heck of a lot cheaper to do down here than in the US. So when I got the estimate, my only question was "How fast can you do it". We moved the boat from the marina to Prickly Bay this morning so we could anchor right off the rigging shop and Wayne the rigger has already been up the mast 5 times today (more times than I have in the past 3 years). Replacing the rigging while in the water is an exciting process. Basically they remove one shroud at a time supporting the mast with halyards. Then the riggers dinghy the wire back to the shop to reproduce it. They bring the new one to the boat and install it. They've already replaced the headstay and shrouds (3 of the 5 wires), tomorrow they will replace the diamond (the other 2) and then it's done and we can get outta here. The cost of 5 wires: $2850.

Where we are:
Location=Prickly Bay, Grenada
Lat=12 00.035
Lon=61 45.837

Grenada -- Drive on the LEFT!

Seven Sisters

In preparation for leaving Grenada (yeah, I know it seems like we never will but Kevin tells me we are leaving and he's the captain, so...) we rented a car so that we could stock up here at the great IGA supermarket. We wanted to pick up things that we aren't likely to find in any of the mom & pop shops on some of the smaller islands -- things like Frank's Red Hot (mmm...chicken wings), and fancy stuff like hearts of palm, capers, and dried shiitake mushrooms (I have no idea what I'm going to do with them, but what the heck -- put them in the cart anyway!) After taking the bus everywhere, driving a car here was a bit of a shock. As we left the marina and started to turn onto the main road, Kevin hit what he thought was the turn signal. The windshield wipers went berserk (turn signal is on the RIGHT side of the steering wheel in Grenada!) and we sat there on the wrong side of the road with a jeep bearing down on us while I gestured frantically to the left shouting "That side, THAT side!". No harm done, Kevin got the wily wipers under control and fortunately that was our only mishap while driving despite the multitude of obstacles that Grenadian roadways present. It could be a video game -- "Mario Kart" meets "Frogger". Two things to keep in mind while playing the game: 1. Always drive on the left, and 2. Be prepared to slam on the brakes at any moment. You drive along narrow, curvy roads avoiding small elderly women, wandering goats, men with machetes, and every once in a while the car in front of you will hit the brakes and slam it into reverse to pick up a passenger, say hi to a friend, or just to mess with the carload of tourists behind them. (This happened no less than four times today). It's a fun game, really.

Cruise Ship in town

We rented the car for two days and got all the errands out of the way yesterday so today we had planned to explore the Grand Etang National Forest and do a little hiking. Unfortunately about 1000 other people (it was a cruise ship day) also had the same plan so we arrived at Grand Etang and were surrounded by aging British tourists standing around sipping $10 cups of juice and being hustled by 30 spice merchants all trying to sell them the same necklace made of nutmeg. We explained to the lady at the admission gate that we'd been living in the country for five months and happened to pick the wrong day to come enjoy the scenery. She just laughed. But we hopped back in the car and headed up the road a ways to Seven Sisters Falls where we had a much more secluded (and strenuous) hike down into a gorge with two good-sized falls (the other five were a longer and even more strenuous hike away, so we just saw the first two). We had the waterfalls all to ourselves. Well, pretty much to ourselves. A local kid and professional "jumper" (see our Annadale Falls post) was there to give us some information about the falls (but primarily to jump from the heights for a small "donation", which we gladly gave). Cliffon the Cliffjumper seemed to scale the sheer face of the rock before jumping the 35 foot first fall, and then he took a running jump off the second fall (take a look at the videos, but don't try this at home. If you have a waterfall at home, that is.). Kevin swam in the pool (too cold for me) and the hike back was grueling -- it's always easier to hike down to the waterfalls than to hike back up to the car. Anyway, it was nice to get out and see something of Grenada other than the marina bar and the grocery store. Although after our hike we did stop at the grocery store for a few last-minute items. Oh, and we did hang out at the marina bar for karaoke night.

Grenada - Back on Board

I've been back in Grenada for two days now. Meanwhile my baggage has been on a bender in San Juan Puerto Rico -- doing tequila shots, dancing to salsa, and downing way too many margaritas. For me the trip back to the boat was uneventful but long. I was originally scheduled to fly through O'Hare on Tuesday morning but Ice Storm 2007 put the kibosh on that, so I was rerouted through Dallas where I spent the night. In San Juan the next day I arrived at the gate only to hear that the flight was "overweight" and they were asking passengers to voluntarily give up their seats for a $350 credit and a seat on the next Grenada flight. There's only one flight to Grenada each day so they didn't get too many takers and the next step was to bump people. I was fortunate to already have a seat assignment, because out of 60 or so people booked on the flight, only the 43 with seat assignments were allowed to board. After the plane landed, I filled out a missing baggage form and headed to the marina, where Chris, Barb & Kevin were hanging out waiting for me and watching "Deal or No Deal" on satellite. It's now 9am on Friday morning and my baggage just arrived in a taxi, looking bedraggled and hung over but none the worse for the wear. I'm gonna let it sleep it off before unpacking.

Grenada - It's beginning to look a lot like . . .

[Kevin's Post] This will be our first Christmas on the boat, so I wanted to do it right. I bought a bunch of lights while I was in Phoenix and carted them all the way to Grenada. These are LED lights and draw almost no power, its great. We have 3 strings of lights up and all of them combined are 12 watts. That's less power than our anchor light consumes. So we'll be able to run them at anchor which will be fun.

Kazakhstan

[Kevin's Post]I was enjoying my last night in a real bed back in phoenix when I got woken by a call from the Citibank credit card fraud department. It's not unusual for me to have charges from several countries at the same time on my credit card so I get these calls all the time. The recording asks you to verify your last 5 charges, and they have always been my own. But this time one of the charges was for $950 at a bakery? I think I would have remembered that one. So I punch the button that takes me through to customer service. The nice lady with customer service asks me if I have been traveling. I tell her that I have. Then she says that there were two charges of about $950 each from a bakery in Kazakhstan. I tell her I buy my bread locally. She suggests that the charges might be fraudulent. I tell her that I think she's probably right. So she cancels my card and now the people of Kazakhstan need to find a new way to fund their sandwich supplies.

I'm back in Grenada now after 24 hours of travel and 4 plane rides. My flight from Dallas to Puerto Rico was diverted to Atlanta due to a medical emergency, but miraculously I still made my connection in San Juan with about 10 minutes to spare. Even more amazing, is that my bags made it too. I still don't know how they managed that. It took about an hour for me go through customs in Grenada and they actually looked through my bags this time. They charged me 5% of the value of the items as best they could figure out ("No, sorry I don't have a receipt for that either. I think it was about $10."). This was the "duty free" rate since I had boat paperwork to show I was bound for a yacht in transit. Back at the marina I was pleasantly surprised to find that the bar was still open and decked out with Christmas lights. I enjoyed a frosty Carib with Chris & Barb (Moonsail) before lugging my bags back to the boat and collapsing in bed.