Saint Martin: Saint of Broken Boats

Sint Maarten's Bridge across the Lagoon dressed in Christmas Best

Somehow almost 3 weeks vanished.  Simpson Bay Lagoon must be the Caribbean’s answer to the comely bird-women whose charming voices lured ships and sailors to an untimely end.  We didn’t end up on a rocky shore but rather too easily filled the time doing routine chores like food shopping and laundry, including a challenge to spend well above our lifting limit in Island Water World.  And then, there were the inevitable boat repairs.  We found Mike the electrician again, to help with AIS and VHF radio stuff but compensated by making a special effort to dine regularly at Lal’s – for the best Indian curries & garlic naans this side of India.  We marvelled at the gathering crowd of superyachts, then commented on the challenges for them.  It must be de rigueur to have at least 3 bunny ears (satellite domes) in colours to match the hull and a crowd of staff (also dressed to match) to wash acres of windows and keep a stable of water toys in good working order.  Too much work…give me one cranky Cap’n any day!

Yes, we are really leaving Sint Maarten, for now...

Eventually, a suitable weather window opened for a comfortable ride across to the BVI.  We paid our dues, refuelled, and then make the 10.30am bridge lift to once again meet this season’s swell out in the real world.  Our plan was to anchor for the night on the French side in Marigot Bay, then at some ghastly early hour, up anchor and make for a daylight arrival at an anchorage off Prickly Pear Island.  Serious coral reefs lie off Virgin Gorda (the Fat Virgin – thank Columbus for that name!) and are best negotiated in daylight. 

We had some sun but a stiff breeze to traverse the BVI's

We didn’t linger in the BVI, though made a detour to take in the famous Foxies Soggy Dollar Bar on Jost Van Dyke, but didn’t stop.  Not only was a cruise ship anchored off, but the bay was cluttered with mooring balls, reputed to cost 30 to 40 USD per night.  Indeed, the BVI generally has tuned into mooring fields to accommodate growing numbers of charter fleets, mostly catamarans.  Cheap cruisers (like us) now need to search hard for suitable anchorages.

Made the anchorage in Culebra just on dark.  Luckily it wasn't busy!

Culebra, in the Spanish Virgins, and a favourite laid-back anchorage, was in our sights.  Thank goodness, it was true to form and we settled in for a few days to recover from our crossing of the 2300m deep Anegada Passage with it’s mean reputation.  Thankfully, it was a pussy cat for us – this time!

The gathering of the fleet for an after-caroling party. 
It was really nice to see some sun too

We arrived in Culebra’s Ensenada Honda on Christmas Day and were pleased to find it near deserted; just a handful of cruisers and a few local boats on moorings in a calm and well protected spot.  Mr Resident Turtle swam by so we took that as a sign of approval.  After a few days rest, we made (well, changed) plans.  Rather than take the more direct 4-day route from Culebra to Turks Caicos, we’d skim and day hop Vieques and Puerto Rico’s southern coastlines ending in a short stay in Puerto Real Marina with time perhaps to explore ashore (Walmart then old San Juan for GS and West Marine for the Cap’n).  The marina is on Puerto Rico’s west coast and, with easy access through the tricky Mona Passage, we could take a day off our sail plan to Turks Caicos.  That was the theory, anyway!

That settled, we prepped for an early morning departure.  Locals though, had other plans.  It was Sunday and we were woken very early (4.30am) to a rousing chorus of Christmas carols, Latino style, at a boat dock by the foreshore.  Eventually, GS went to find out what was the go!  The dock was filling with local craft all decked out with Christmas lights and decorations.  A party was well underway.  Jet skis buzzed about looking like floating slippers.  At 5.30am, with carols and the hum of boat engines ricocheting round the harbour, the fleet assembled in line and the Christmas Boat Parade took off for a very leisurely, if somewhat unsteady, round of the bay.  Not a neighbour or house seemed to miss out on a personal round of Feliz Navidad (Jose Feliciano from the 1970’s).  So simple, yet such an inspiring event full of neighbourly bonhomie.  

Culebra's 2mile deep harbour is well protected by surrounding reefs. 
Remind me.  Why are we leaving?

As we were now up early anyway, we up-anchored and headed off for Vieques with the sounds of Feliz Navidad ringing in our ears.

(Photos to follow, we are trying to share one working computer.  I knew we should have stopped at Walmart...)

Caribbean Two-Step

Simpson Bay Lagoon Bridge (an escape hatch)

On a very quiet Sunday morning in Pointe-à-Pitre in Guadeloupe, and with a ready source of wi-fi, it seems an appropriate time to write up our trip from St Martin.  Although we had great plans, this crazy summer weather put paid to all that.  Will those trades (winds) ever ease?  After our release from Simpson Bay Lagoon, first stop was back to Marigot Bay (French side) offering better protection to (hopefully) raise the main sail, bagged since Turks Caicos, back into its rightful position.

The following morning, an early rise gave us sufficiently settled conditions to achieve our task.  And was it so good to have that powerful main back in use!  (Lack of it, we realised, explained our feeble crossing effort from Turks Caicos! )  Hey ho!  And round the north side of St Martin we go – something we’ve not done before.  The north side is much drier and home to many beautiful sandy beaches and a jumble of seaside resorts.  The little island of Tintamarie looked like a parking lot.  It was Sunday after all and locals were certainly out & about in their boats.

Ile Fourchu ahead, Cap'n

Rounding St Martin to the north gave us a good heading on our planned stop at Ile Fourchue, a tiny private island and wildlife reserve with moorings.  The Cap’n had plans to snorkel over reefs and brush up his fish-speak.  It was not to be.  The bay was filled to the brim with vast catamarans.  Is it compulsory for all catamarans to be over 50 feet these days?  Miffed, we moved on to St Barts and settled in at the very protected but equally busy Anse de Colombier.  Here, the beach is clothing optional, so you’ll be pleased to know, that bino’s in hand, the Cap’n viewed and discussed the architecture of avant-garde cliff top dwellings with GS.  (Oh, sure!!)

Oh look, Mike Nelson's found St Barts!

We left with the birds early next morning for the longer trip to Nevis, where we’d planned to stay for a couple of days.  From St Barts we had a good run down but couldn’t maintain our course for the north side of St Kitts, so floated into the passage between St Kitts and Statia, marvelling at the green and pleasant fields surrounding the high peak of Mt Liamiuga, wearing as it regularly does, a quaint cloud cap with obvious Caribbean panache.  

Near St Kitt’s southern salt ponds, we made a brief stop at White House Bay, to check the weather.  We were expecting a nasty front with high winds, forecast for about Thursday-ish, and wanted to check on the system’s position in relation to our own.  A decision was quickly reached to skip Nevis and make for much better protection offered in Deshaies, Guadeloupe.   

Looking back at St Kitts

Accompanied by a family of Brown Noddy’s and pods of dolphins, sliding behind the islands wasn’t too much of a challenge, however by now, the seas were well up and rolling through the passages between them.  We were also obliged to stay clear of Montserrat as its volcanic state imposes an exclusion zone extending on land and off shore. This pushed us out into some mean seas.  Deshaies then “welcomed” us with a rather nasty front, offering squalls over 30kts.  After settling onto a mooring in the harbour and calming down with a shot of something sustaining, we both agreed that the conditions between Montserrat and Guadeloupe were very similar to the gale we experienced mid-Atlantic on the way to the Azores in 2011. 

Windjammer then remained on her mooring, strengthened with additional lines, to ride out this coming system.  Katabatic winds regularly rolled down the steep hills surrounding our little harbour hide-away, so if it wasn’t for the rolling swell, we would hardly have noticed any increased wind state when it did eventually strike.  Deshaies township itself was in “off season” mode so finding anything other than a rather nice pâtisserie open and rationed internet, we cut short our stay. Besides, we had no working knowledge of the French language and no euros.  (It should be noted here that the Marina manager and the Customs/Immigration official were both exceptionally friendly and very helpful.)

Deshaies under rain & cloud cover

On a bright sunny morning we slipped our (€25 a night - eek!) mooring and headed for Pointe-à-Pitre.  The seas were calm and turtles came out to play as we chugged our way south.  The island appeared green and very lush, plenty of cultivated farms sat amidst rugged peaks – all a picture, oh so tropical!  Carefully, we picked our way into the main harbour; a busy shipping port indeed and it seemed like half the cruising community were in town and on anchor.  The old mooring field has been moved and expanded, however the Cap’n considered it too exposed, so we snuggled in with “the regulars” in a spot just off the rather flash new Museum.  Now we really could talk architecture. 

Still, it was good to be safe and sound and much further south, as the end of June loomed closer and hurricane season swings in.  The old rhyme goes: June too soon, July stand by.  So, now we are seriously keeping out a weather eye. 

Modern Museum in Pointe-à-Pitre, Guadeloupe