St David’s Bay, Day 1

As this is my last full day here before going back to the UK, there is lots to be done, the trouble is, there is no room to do it in.  Mike and I attempt to tidy up but with the cabin stuff all over the place it’s hard.  Trying to sweep around mattresses that are taking up one and a half feet of a three feet passageway is a bugger!

Mike goes ashore to make arrangements for a hire car for tomorrow.  We have decided that as we need some bits from chandleries (when don’t we?) and I need to get to the airport, it will be cheaper than getting a taxi.   While he is gone, I clean all four bathrooms, my favourite job.  Not!

After lunch we are still acting like headless chickens so we decide to do something constructive – the laundry.  We find the very clean laundry at the boat yard, two washers, one dryer and all in much better condition than anywhere else we have been, but it all takes so long.  Although we buy two drying tokens, we only have time to use one as Mike has to go off into St George’s to buy a temporary driving licence to be able to rent a car here.  So we cut the drying short, Mike takes me back to Jeannius with wet towels but dry bed linen then goes back to sort out the licence.

The towels have only been hanging out for about fifteen minutes when it starts raining and I have to dash out and bring them all back in.  At least the air conditioning is on so I hang them all out over doors to dry.  It’s just so typical.  It has looked like it was about to rain all day, then immediately I decide it isn’t going to, it does.

Photo:  Threatening rain in St David’s Bay

I have been worrying about how my clothes will fare while the boat is hauled out and Mike is away for two weeks.  My concern is I will come back to them covered in mould.  Jeannius is a dry boat, and as long as we dry her out even more using the air conditioning before Mike leaves we should be OK.  To make sure though, Mike buys a couple of packs of dehumidifying crystals to put in the wardrobes.  I do hope they work.

We have to take our bed apart to get at our bags which are stored underneath.  What a pain.  Then I pack, probably more than I need to but there is a chance I might go to Spain during my trip back to the UK with Johanne and Steve so have to take a few clothes just in case.  I think thermals will be needed for the UK!  Even if it’s not that cold, it will feel it to me.

So, that’s it from me for a few weeks.  Don’t expect Mike to write anything because he won’t!  Blighty here I come!!!

 

Photo:  Goodbye from Grenada

Dragon Bay to St David’s Bay, Grenada

How wonderful.  I slept through the whole night – boy did I need it!  My tummy is still uncomfortable but it didn’t disturb me during the night and is certainly no worse.   We have to check in this morning and have read in Chris Doyle’s cruising guide that we can do this in Prickly Bay.

First though, we decide to trundle around St George’s Bay, the bay which is home to the capital of Grenada.  To our amazement, a cruise ship is in port which really is an indication that we out of the normal hurricane belt.

Photo:  A cruise ship comes to town

Through the binoculars we can see a line of white Toyota people carriers – local taxis – with gleeful drivers waiting for the disembarkation of its load.

The boys are also in town, in the form of a Royal Navy Auxiliary ship, with a fancy helicopter on the back.  It takes off a couple of times while we are trundling, then comes back.  Probably doing some sort of exercise.

Photo:  RFA Fort George

Photo:  Navy helicopter about to take off

There are some very fancy resorts around the south part of St George’s Bay, as  well as what appears to be an eco house.  It is built into the ground with grass on its roof.  I am amazed to see one here.

Photo:  An eco house in St George’s Bay

We go around the corner, passing the airport, which like most of the islands, ends out to sea.  As we are watching, a Liat plane lands.  It’s probably late!

Photo:  Liat arriving in Grenada

We pass the enormous university and medical school.  What a view these students have.  It all looks brand new and from a distance I originally think that it is a resort.

  Photo:  Grenada’s university and medical school

We arrive in Prickly Bay, anchor and Mike goes off to check in.  Prickly Bay is a very pretty anchorage, with expensive looking houses along one side and a very fancy condominium development on the other.  It is crowded with boats although most of them see to be minus their owners at the moment, just laying there waiting for the hurricane season to finish.

  Photo:  One of the fancy houses in Prickly Bay

Mike comes back rather quicker than I would have expected.  “Were they at lunch?” I enquire.  But no, it was worse than that.  Although it is a port of clearance, you can only check out here, not in.  Apparently there were two bored looking customs officials with nothing to do.  Why can’t they do both processes!  So, it’s back to St George’s Bay.  Eventually we are checked in and legal, but by the time we get to St David’s Bay where the boat will eventually be hauled out, it is past 5pm and we have basically wasted a day.  What a bummer.  Mike will definitely be dropping Chris Doyle a line about that one.

We anchor a couple of times until we get it to set right then have our usual cup of tea.  There is a very good restaurant here so tomorrow, my last night, we will probably go out to dinner.  Tomorrow will be a busy day getting the boat ready inside so I will be glad of the opportunity not to cook.

We eat the last of our black fin tuna from the freezer in a tomato and coconut milk sauce.  Within minutes, my stomach, still not fully mended is rebelling.  I do wish I knew what was wrong.

Just before I go to bed I ask Mike to help me put the stern cabins back together so that I can get going in the morning doing the tidying and cleaning.  We refit the starboard side but on opening the cabin door on the port side, an ominous smell comes out.  Immediately Mike steps into the room, he knows the source of the problem.  The floor is hot, the smell is sulphur dioxide therefore the problem is the port engine starter motor battery.  We immediately turn the generator off to stop charging this battery as it is obviously not cutting out when it has enough charge, and leave the problem until the morning.  Mike is hopeful that we just need a new battery as it is quite old.  As we go to bed, the delightful aroma of rotting eggs fills the boat, just to add to the queasy feeling in my stomach.  Great!

5 Miles West of St Vincent to Dragon Bay, Grenada

While I am on my watch, Mike sleeps in the salon.  When I say sleeps, he actually just rests, ready to jump into action if there’s any need.  I entertain myself my having my mp3 player plugged into one ear, the other one ready to hear any unusual noises.

At 12.30am Mike tells me that there is only half an hour to go on my watch.  That half an hour seems like an eternity, and it’s certainly longer than half an hour as I discover when I unclip myself from the seat and go and peer at the time – nearly half past one.  I wake him up and he goes on watch while I climb into bed again and once more try to sleep.

I probably get about an hour this time and when he comes to wake me I am lying there waiting.  This time my watch starts around Canouan.  We have gone past Bequia and Mustique in the distance.  Again my watch is boring and uneventful.  I don’t even have my mp3 player this time as it is on charge.

Every now and then I hear a noise like birdsong or someone whistling.  It’s quite eerie.  I know it’s not a bird (and hope to God it’s not someone whistling) but is probably just wind whistling through some part of the boat.

The sky starts to lighten around 4.30 am and at long last I can distinguish the difference between the sea and the sky.  At 7am I go to wake Mike, stroking his head gently.  He is dead to the world, and having had as much trouble getting asleep as me, I decide to leave him to wake by himself, hoping it won’t take too long as my own eyelids are drooping and I now have a headache from lack of sleep.  He wakes around a quarter of an hour later and goes straight on watch.  Normally we would both stay up now but I feel so tired I decide to try and get some sleep.

As I crawl into bed for the third time, I hear a squall approaching.  No rain yet, just wind, and then an ominous wild flapping which I know doesn’t sound right.  I lie there for a few minutes, then as I am convinced that all is not well, I climb down from my bed and go up to see if Mike needs help.

“It’s just the sail bag flapping” he says, but as the squall is by now developing into something unpleasant, he asks me to stay and help roll up the genoa.  It is now throwing it down, and having just clambered out of bed, I am naked, cold and very wet.  As the genoa is furled away, Mike looks again towards the bow of the boat, and utters a row of expletives, unusual for him.  Although completely furled, the wind has managed to get into our recently mended and erected gennaker and judging by the piece of blue material which I see fly past, is in the process of ripping it to shreds.  We need to get it down, and quickly!

I turn the boat around completely and Mike goes to the mast.  He lowers it down onto the trampoline then disconnects it from the bow sprit.  As it comes down we can see that there is a six foot tear all the way down the side.  I hate the bloody thing with a vengeance and yell at Mike to stuff it in the bow compartment as I never want to see it again.

He does this, swearing at it all the time, then comes back to the safety of the cockpit and says we are not getting it fixed and will never use it again.  Thank God!!

I try to go to sleep after this as I am still shattered but unfortunately now wide awake.  After spending half an hour lying on my bed, I give up and join Mike.

The day continues with regular heavy downpours.  The sea is quite high and continually crashes over the bow of the boat, then the rain washes the salt off.  At one point we see three dolphins playing off the bows of the boat but nothing as spectacular as on the way to Nevis with Johanne and Steve.

We were going to check in at Carriacou but in the end continue past to Grenada.  We pull into Dragon Bay mid afternoon, anchor, have some lunch then go to bed for a few hours sleep.  Although Mike manages a bit of sleep, I don’t and eventually get up to make some tea.  We put the generator on and luxuriate in the pleasure of being able to have the water maker and air conditioning on at the same time.

By early evening, I feel really quite ill.  My tummy is bloated and very painful but Mike is fine and we have eaten exactly the same over the last 24 hours (except he had a Guinness and I’m not touching that gloop).  It’s so bad, I skip dinner, which if you know me, means it’s very bad.  Mike fries some fish out of the freezer for himself while I watch the sun set as I can’t stand the smell of cooking.  A sunset booze cruise ship goes past.  It makes a pretty picture.

Photo:  Framed by rainclouds, a sunset booze cruise sails past

The rain continues to pour on and off all evening and into the night.  We go to bed early to make up for last night’s lack of sleep.

Martinique to 5 Miles West of St Vincent

We leave Case Pilote around 9am.  There are people around willing to let our lines go for us so Mike just takes off while I am still in the bathroom getting ready.  By the time I emerge, we are almost out of the harbour.  Some local fishermen are pulling in a huge net onto the beach but I can’t see what they’ve caught.

Photo:  Pulling nets in at Case Pilote

We are actually able to sail the course we want, although Mike takes us a little off course to start with in anticipation of the winds changing further down.  There was a technical explanation for this which I have now forgotten.

On the way, I decide to try out our new pressure cooker for something other than cooking bread.  I make a lentil curry which is good when on passage, and it takes all of three minutes to cook.  Well, we actually do it for four minutes as we have difficulty deciding when the little pressure thingy on top is rocking at a steady rhythm.  The seasoning needs correcting at the end – this is normally something I do as I go along – but basically it is good and we are pleased.  We will use a lot less gas doing things like this.  It’s quite amusing when I go to open the lid – we both stand as far back as we can get in case something has gone wrong and it explodes!

Photo:  Mike in usual relaxed pose at the helm 

The wind changes as we go round the south tip of St Lucia, but not in our favour.  It drops away completely and we have to put the engines on and put both sails away as they are just flapping around pathetically.

Photo:  St Lucia’s ‘Pitons’ in the distance

The late afternoon is very hazy, and clouds are everywhere.  The wind picks up a little though so we put just the genoa back out.

Photo:  Sunset between St Lucia and St Vincent

Mike takes the first watch – 7 to 10 pm – as we decide I will be the one most likely to easily fall asleep.  Wrong.  As the stern cabins are still in disarray, I sleep in my own bed and the noise of the very bumpy waves hitting underneath me keeps me awake for most of the time.  I know I must have slept for half an hour or so because I can remember the dream I had.  When I go on watch we are half way down the coastline of St Vincent.

On my watch, there is absolutely nothing to look at except lightening in the distance (which carries on all night).  There are no other boats at all.  There is a half moon which helps me see the horizon but it is very cloudy.  Mike put the rain curtains down as he thought rain was on the way, but it never arrives, just lightening, lightening, lightening every couple of minutes or so.

Case Pilote, Day 5

Philibert turns up to start work at 6.30 am.  This is quite a surprise although Mike has been up and on the PC since 5.15 am himself.  Hopefully this is our last day in port.  Not that Case Pilote isn’t quaint in its own working fishing port way, but I am so bored just sitting around and waiting.  I can’t even get the inside of the boat cleaned because two of the cabins are completely dismantled and all the stuff crammed into the third.

As always, the unexpected happens and there are problems putting the generator back together.  It’s not until nearly 12.30 that it all starts working properly.

The digger is still dredging away in the background.  I am very glad we are moored where we are on the opposite dock as the guys working there have loosened two unoccupied boats from the dock and they are just swinging slightly at anchor.  Every now and then, they swing back into the digger’s way and he just nudges them off with the big claw.  I don’t think I would be very happy if I were one of the owners especially as right now, as I look out of the window, the two boats are knocking against each other with not a fender in sight!

At last I find something to do, reorganising the second of Mike’s working cupboards into the new boxes which we bought in St Martin.  Well actually his stuff goes into the old boxes we had because, bloody typically, the new boxes won’t fit into the cupboard!  We failed to notice that the two cupboards were not of identical depth!  Ah well, it still looks neater and I know where everything is even if Mike doesn’t.

After lunch we borrow Frank’s car again and go into Fort de France so that we can check out.  We head back again in what appears to be a quicker route but due to road works miss our turning and head into the interior of the island, passing the less salubrious area of the capital.  It looks very poor, crowded and shabby, although I’m sure they all have marvellous views.

Photo:  Fort de France

Eventually we drive through some nice bits before finding somewhere to turn the car round and heading the right way once more.

Photo:  Eglise Montmartre

Back at Case Pilote, Mike goes to pay Frank for all the work.  When he returns I ask him if he wants to lie down in a darkened room, but he is so excited that everything is working he doesn’t seem to mind the €3000 bill.  It is exactly what he expected anyway.

On the boat we experiment with our new energy.  We put two air conditioning units and the hair dryer.  It is happy.  We have the air conditioning and the toaster.  It is happy.  Oh joy!

It is a spectacular sunset, mainly because there are no clouds on the horizon.  Mike warns me that it is going to be lovely, but I miss it as I am engrossed in the cruising guide to Grenada.  I get the tail end though.

Photos:  Our last Martinique sunset

We are having a leisurely start tomorrow to our 160 mile journey to Grenada.  Hopefully we will be there late Sunday morning, so probably no blogs till Monday when we next find internet connection.

Case Pilote, Day 4

Mike spends most of the morning doing admin stuff on the computer and then disappears outside to mend the gennaker where it split a couple of months ago when it was unevenly furled up in a gusting wind.  Since I am writing this the following day, and when in a marina/port like this, just hanging around, my brain seems to switch off in an overheated frazzle, I have no idea what I spend the morning doing.  I get really fed up on days like this though.  I am much better when I have something to actually accomplish, or at least nice scenery to look at from the cockpit.  Here, the only thing to watch is a digger which is dredging out the harbour.  Fascinating?  No.

Photo:  Dredging the harbour

We put together a list of everything we need to buy and/or fix before the start of the World Arc.  It is a very long list and I am sure we will keep adding to it over the next couple of months.  Putting the list together also sparks off a little research on the internet as I want a washing machine and spinner.  It will be no fun trying to wash sheets and towels in the small kitchen sinks.  Clothes I can deal with.  We will be after a small portable one, the type that people often buy for caravans.

In the afternoon we put the gennaker back up, unfurl her, then re-furl her again to take out all the kinks.  I leap off the boat to take a photo because under normal circumstances, we are sailing when she is out and you can’t get far enough away to get it all in the photo.

  Photo:  Jeannius with her gennaker repaired and flying

Once the gennaker is dealt with we disappear inside as the sun is scorching.  I decide to try making bread and cooking in the pressure cooker as the article Jo and Kev gave us said this was possible.  I have to say that making it in a bread machine is a hell of a lot easier but it did work out well.  It was a little ‘dark’ on the top and bottom but we knew it would be as we need to buy a flame spreader from a camping supplies shop.  It was definitely edible though, as is shown by the fact that we ate half of it straight away while still hot.  It means that we don’t need to buy a bread machine when we are in St Martin next month.

Photo:  Yummy bread – the first I have made on the boat

Philibert, the engineer, arrives to fix the cylinder head on the generator but eventually has to give up when it gets too dark for him to work.  He will be back in the morning.

We are so stuffed from eating half the huge loaf that all I cook is a small amount of garlic crab for dinner.  Neither of us had an afternoon nap either so, embarrassingly, we are both tucked up in bed before 9pm.  Mike goes straight to sleep and I read for just a little while.

Case Pilote, Day 3

Both Mike and I are awake shortly after 5am.  No reason.  Neither of us can get back to sleep so while I am semi content (semi because I would prefer to be asleep) to lie in bed, Mike gets up and starts to do all the admin chores associated with the boat hauling out in Grenada.  He thinks I have gone back to sleep, so after 40 minutes or so of waiting, I call out to demand my tea.  Naturally, he obliges.  Good man.

He wants us to start work on the rigging at 7am.  No way, Jose!  There are too many mosquitoes around at that time sitting here in the harbour, so we actually start after 9am.

We fit the new outhaul, pulling it through the boom by attaching it with tape to the old one.  We also re-run the two reefing lines.  Then we have to make sure the three lines through the boom are not wrapped around each other.

Photos:  Re-rigging Jeannius

Our engineer turns up to check the port engine and says it is now running fine and not leaking oil any more.  He tells us to run it for an hour which at least means that we will have hot showers tonight.  He says that the generator parts should be back from the machine shop late this afternoon and that he will fit them tomorrow, along with a new pump for the starboard engine then we can be off.  So it looks like we will head to Grenada, weather permitting, on Friday or Saturday.

We go for a nap after lunch as it’s too hot to do anything outside, and are dozing nicely when we are awoken by a group of local lads, obviously just out from school, jumping off the dock right next to Jeannius, and swimming and yelling to each other underneath us.  They have obviously discovered how nice it is swimming between the hulls.  I get up and peer underneath the stairs through the glass escape hatch and can clearly see them hanging off the drainage channels and doing pull ups.  They are doing no harm, but are just a bit noisy so I run some clean water out of the kitchen sink which falls straight into the sea near them and it does the trick!

Mike goes outside and comes back in covered in strange flies, a bit like flying ants, a plague of which just arrived in the port.  I shoo him outside and flick them off of him before he is allowed back in.

As the sun starts to go down, we finish the rigging and mend the sail bag as best we can.  It has numerous small tears and really needs someone with a sewing machine to patch it up.  We were quoted nearly $2000 for a new one which is completely out of the question.

The evening is spent on the PC as usual and eating even more strange things out of the freezer.

Case Pilote, Day 2

Today we need to go back to Fort de France to collect the laundry, but first I go to the local supermarket to get some washing up liquid.  Well, I say I go to the supermarket but actually I get 300 yards down the road and the heavens literally open and give us the heaviest downpour for ages.  Thank goodness there is a fisherman’s building with a canopy for me to shelter under.  The down side is that it is also sheltering hundreds of hungry mosquitoes, who view my unsprayed, bare legs as a late breakfast.  I wait until the heaviest of the rain seems to be over and dash back to the boat, stopping every few yards to scratch my ankles.  Little buggers.

We drive to Fort de France, the city of the crazies.  Honestly, I think all the ‘care in the community’ equivalents that live on Martinique, actually live in the capital.  I have never seen so many people talking, even shouting to themselves as they walk along the road.  It is quite disconcerting, especially when you cannot really understand what they are saying because their French is so heavily accented.

On our way back to the car, we wander into a shop which we think sells batteries, as Mike wants to compare prices against the ones we purchased in St Martin.  Well, they do sell batteries here, but the rest of the shop is dedicated to all sorts of weaponry.  There are 12 bore shotguns, handguns, wicked looking knives, knuckle dusters and cans of pepper spray, mace and cs gas.  And it is all so cheap!  There are shotguns for less than 400 euros.  And with all the local crazies around.  God, it makes you shudder.  I find it all terrifying and eye opening.  I don’t even know what some of the stuff is!

We pick up the laundry and something for Frank from Sea Services and drive back, doing some supermarket shopping on the way.  Inboard Diesel Services is bereft of engineers when we return and so is our boat.  We have no idea if our port engine is fixed so don’t want to turn it on – no hot shower tonight.

Mike has a nap in the afternoon but sleep eludes me and as we have a good internet connection I do some work on the PC and use Skype to talk to Victoria who is on her residential course in Kent.  I can’t wait to see her next weekend.

Frank returns towards the end of the afternoon and reports on today’s progress.  It looks like all the work will be complete by the end of Thursday.

We eat another strange concoction from the supplies in the freezer and watch a film which turns out to be complete crap.  Still, it passes the time!

Case Pilote, Day 1

An engineer arrives bang on 8am and starts removing parts of our generator.  This means that we now have no air conditioning and our batteries have to be charged by the starboard engine.  Frank comes to see us a bit later to explain what is going to happen, some of which will depend on what they find.  He explains that he can hook us up to some electricity so that we can run the air conditioning but our plugs will not work here and we need to make a new system with our waterproof cable.  He also gives us access to the internet through his system which is great.

I go off to find the local supermarket as there is some hand washing I need to do, but first I go for a bit of a wander.  I already know my way round Case Pilote as we were here just a few weeks ago, and as I walk towards the town square to see if it is any more lively than it was the last time (it isn’t) I am approached by a young man talking at me ten to the dozen.  I smile and say bonjour and go to walk past but that doesn’t do the trick.  He gently takes my hand and gabbles even more French to me.  In my absolutely worst schoolgirl French I say I don’t understand what he is saying and I am English.  He relinquishes my hand eventually and I work out he is saying welcome.  Unfortunately his antics attract the attention of his mate over the road who starts shouting “I love you, baby” as I retreat.  I don’t catch the rest, but as he is smiling I hope it wasn’t too bad.

After my wander I go back to the supermarket and get something which I hope is clothes bleach to try to clean Mike’s t-shirts then it’s back to the boat to give them a good soak in whatever it is I have bought.

Frank lends us one of his cars as we have to go into Fort de France to clear in, buy some rope to make a new outhaul and some marine/shore plugs and take the rest of the laundry in for a service wash.  There are no self service places here and Fort de France is the closest place that will do it for me.

We go to Sea Services, do the necessary silly business checking in, and buy 13 metres of thick rope.  Unfortunately they do not have the necessary marine plugs that we need for the cable so after taking the laundry in, we drive the 37 kilometres to Marin, the only place where there is a wealth of chandleries.  The long drive round is actually quite beautiful once you are past the airport.  I wish I had brought my camera with me but I only expected to be going to Fort de France and found it difficult to find things to photograph there last time so I didn’t bother.

We don’t arrive until nearly 3pm and realise that neither of us have eaten since dinner last night so we stop for a croissant and a drink.  We also manage to get the marine plugs so the trip was worth it.

Back at Case Pilote, Frank shows us the results so far.  They have removed the cylinder head and it is obvious that one cylinder hasn’t been firing properly as there is black carbon on the valves and the top of the piston.  The cylinder head has been taken back to their workshop and they have removed the valve springs and the valves themselves.  The shaft of the exhaust valve from the defective cylinder has been eaten away and is no more than half of its original thickness.  If this had gone just a little bit further, the valve head would have come away and dropped into the cylinder, colliding with the piston and making a horrible (and definitely much more expensive) mess.  Tomorrow the cylinder head will be taken to a machine shop to have the valve seats reground.  And if you understand all this, you’re probably not female – Mike dictated this paragraph!

Photo:  Look at the difference between the damaged bottom valve and the one above it

The port engine has also had some attention.  It has been taken off its mountings in order to replace the corroded and leaking oil sump.  When it was removed they could clearly see that this has been damaged in the past, probably when it was dropped a few years back at TMM when it was being taken for repair.  Whoever did the repair didn’t put a gasket on when they reassembled the engine;  they just used a liquid gasket solution.  This is also probably a cause of the oil leak.  It is also apparent that the engine mounts are well past their sell by date as the rubber is now extremely soft so these have been replaced as well.  Also dictated my Mike!!

Mike and Frank make up the cable with the new plugs and hey presto, thank God, we have air conditioning once more.

Mike starts up the starboard engine to charge the batteries and notices that they don’t seem to be charging properly.  After firing off an e-mail to Per, the problem is identified, fixed and Mike has learned something else about his new electrical system.

We are now starting to eat up everything in the freezer in preparation for the electrics being turned off while Jeannius is out of the water in Grenada, so dinner is a strange fry up of onions, frozen peas and baby scallops with various seasonings.  Actually it was quite good!

Dominica to Case Pilote, Martinique

We leave Roseau just after 7am.  The sea is like a mill pond again and there is virtually no wind so we motor, although we have the main sail up in anticipation of more wind as we get out of the shelter of land.

Sure enough, towards the southern end of Dominica, the wind does pick up and we put the genoa up as Mike is convinced we can sail on that course.  As we leave Dominica behind us, the wind picks up to about 24 knots and just as we start to relax into the journey there is a terrific bang.  We both look at each other.  We recognise the noise.  Mike goes round the bimini to look up at the main sail only to find that yes, once again, the outhaul has broken and the back of the sail is flapping around in the wind.

This is so frustrating.  This is about the fourth time this has happened – there is a rough bit that has developed in the boom in the channel where the outhaul travels.  We can’t get to it and even if we could, we don’t have the tools to deal with it so it will have to wait until we get to Grenada.

In the meantime, we have to deal with the flapping sail, so first of all we roll away the genoa.  By now, with the increase in wind, and the fact that we are still in relatively shallow water, the waves are throwing us around as I try to hold Jeannius pointing into the wind.  Mike puts his life jacket on, hooks himself to the mast and puts a reef in the main sail.  Then we get back on course and put the genoa back out.

Unbelievably, a few miles north of Martinique, the wind drops completely and we have to take both sails down and motor the rest of the way.

Photo:  Beautiful lush green hills of Martinique

We arrive at the harbour in Case Pilote and manage to squeeze ourselves into a small space alongside the harbour wall.  I jump off and tie the boat up but the sun is blazing down on me and I can feel my skin burning with the heat of it.  While waiting for Mike to make some fine adjustments to the warps on the boat, I squat down in the shade of the harbour wall.  I must have looked very silly.  Mike pronounces our mooring up to be successful and I get back on board to make us both a drink. 

In the middle of this, Frank, the owner of Inboard Diesel Services brings his boat into the harbour and points to the space on the other side of the harbour which he has reserved for us.  Bugger.  He says that we don’t need to move but he can’t provide us with electricity for the air conditioning once the generator is removed if we don’t.  No contest.  We go back out to sea so he can move into our space, take the fenders and lines from the ports side and put them on the starboard side and start all over again.  In the heat.

As the sun starts to go down we sit and watch some local kids diving and throwing each other into the sea off the new dock.  Playing with my new camera allows me to get some amazing high burst action shots.  The young lad looks like he is flying!

Photo:  I just love my new camera!!

All the local men arrive to start fishing from the harbour wall, and the sun gradually goes down.  Tomorrow the expensive work begins.

Portsmouth to Roseau, Dominica

At 4.30am we are all awake as Johanne and Steve are getting ready to leave.  It’s not a tearful goodbye this time as Mike and I are both going back to the UK in a few weeks so will see them then.

Mike takes them across to the dinghy dock by the Purple Turtle and the taxi turns up on time a few minutes later.  Phew.  That was their main concern – missing the first Liat flight.

Mike and I were going to head straight off for Martinique but he has a really nasty headache so instead he takes some tablets and we go back to bed for a few hours.  Waking up again around 8am it means that we won’t have time to make it to Martinique today.  Instead, we will go to Roseau, towards the south of Dominica, and set off for Martinique early tomorrow morning to make it by nightfall.

Before we leave, Mike attempts to get internet connection using the $10 worth that he has paid for.  It is absolutely useless.  We get a signal then it goes almost immediately.  The signal strength is brilliant but the connection has problems.  It is so frustrating.  While he is fiddling with it, a boat boy arrives on a surf board and just hangs around outside until Mike eventually gives up and goes outside to see him.  He offers to take our garbage away for a fee.  We agree, somewhat reluctantly, and just hope that it ends up in the right place and not dumped on the beach somewhere.  We were going to do it properly yesterday and ask Albert, but forgot.

Photo:  The Fort at Cabrits

It takes us three hours of motoring to get to Roseau.  There is not a breath of wind and the sea is absolutely flat calm.  The only people out on the water are local fishermen.

Arriving in Roseau, a boat boy arrives, and we are pleased that he is one of the reliable guys mentioned in the cruising guide again.  His name is Pancho and he is a real charmer with a twinkle in his eye.  We tell him where we want to park Jeannius and he advises us not to go there but to go further down the shore to an area called (appropriately) Anchorage.  Apparently there has been some trouble around here with yachts being robbed, but he says if we go where he advises we will be safe as we will be moored between his house and Sea Cat’s house (another reliable guy) and they will keep an eye out for us.

He takes my lines, one at a time and ties Jeannius to a mooring buoy, nearly being garrotted a couple of times by the stays on the bow sprit, but eventually we are on safely.  I actually couldn’t have done it without him as the eyelet on the buoy had sunk right down – I wouldn’t have been able to grab it with the mooring hook and I sure as hell wasn’t about to dive in for it!!!

We pay him $40 EC – 30 for the mooring fee and 10 for his help, and shake hands.  He’s a sweet chap.

When Mike and I nap in the afternoons, we usually leave the main doors open, but here, unfortunately, I feel the need to lock ourselves in.  It’s not good for business when robberies happen.  The locals suffer as, understandably, tourists don’t want to come back if they have a bad experience.

When we get up, the light over Anchorage is beautiful.

Photos:  Sun setting over Anchorage houses

Photo:  Anchorage sunset

Mike cooks us some of our lovely tuna for dinner and we watch a film.  The door and hatches are firmly locked tonight.  What a pity a few have to go and spoil it for the rest of the locals and tourists alike.

Marie Galante to Portsmouth, Dominica

We set sail around 7.30am to go south to Dominica.  There is absolutely no wind but Mike puts the main sail up in the hope that enough wind will pick up to help us on our way. 

After about an hour, we put the genoa up too as there is a little more, then a nasty squall develops on the horizon and the wind cranks up to 25 knots.  We take the sails down as it looks like four different squalls are lining up over the port side.  Then they all just disappear, one after the other leaving us with no wind again so we motor the rest of the way to Dominica.

We arrive around noon and check the horizon for the usual fleet of ‘boat boys’ that normally rush to greet you.  These can often be found as far as a mile offshore, where they wait, ready to ambush you if you show any signs of coming into port.  Today, only one arrives.  I have to admit that I am a complete wimp with this type of situation.  Dominica is a very poor country and arriving in a boat, either as an owner or a charterer, I am the same to most of its residents.  I am seen as rich pickings.  I know these guys are only trying to eek out a living, and good for them, but I feel full of guilt for having comfort in my life when so many people have so little.  The fact that I have worked hard for what I have is irrelevant.  Anyway, I am relieved that only one guy arrives, and even more relieved when he turns out to be one that is recommended in the cruising guide book – Albert .  He welcomes us to Dominica and is professional and polite.  He asks us if we want a trip up the Indian River, but Mike wants to get the check in palaver over with and says we’ll decide later.  Albert says if anyone else approaches us we are to say that he is looking after us.

We motor over to the customs office at the far side of town and Mike goes ashore to check in.  As our paperwork from Marie Galante is all fine and dandy, there is no problem but Mike is told that he also has to go to immigration which is at the police station in town.  This is because two of our crew are leaving the boat – Johanne and Steve are flying back to the UK tomorrow.

He has read that duty free diesel is available from the Cubrits fuel dock and as we are nearly out, we head over there.  Albert trundles over with us and sorts out a taxi for Johanne and Steve for tomorrow morning at 5am with his mate, Max.  Unfortunately the fuel man is at lunch so having moored at the dock, we have lunch.  Steve has been good trying, and liking, things that he normally says he doesn’t like (mainly prawns) that Johanne says she will try tuna.  I fry up some of our black fin but she isn’t convinced and finishes off the crab meat instead.  Mike goes off to the police station and comes back just as Steve is filling the tanks with fuel.  It is the cheapest fuel we have bought anywhere so he is very happy.  We move the boat once more to its night anchoring spot. 

We agree to go with Albert on a river trip and tell him to come back for us at 4pm.  He arrives bang on time.  We check with Albert if there are any security issues before leaving the boat as there are no security patrols in the off season.  These patrols have been necessary over recent years as the yachts are tempting for some of the local thieves and crack heads.  He says our dinghy will be OK during the day but we need to pull it up tonight.

We set off.  Portsmouth used to be the capital of Dominica but this was switched to Roseau some time in the mid-18th century because of the amount of swamp land surrounding it.  The infrequent hurricanes which have swept through the area have put many ships onto the shore here, and they still lay, rusting and rotting with plants growing out of them as it is too expensive to dispose of them.

Photos:  Views of Portsmouth waterfront and the wrecks that line it

There are so many wrecks that the entrance to the Indian River is completely hidden by them.

  Photo:  Bridge over the entrance to the Indian River

All tour guides have to be certified, and their knowledge updated every three to four years.  Albert proves that he certainly knows his stuff but I have to say that I have forgotten all the names of the trees, plants, flowers, birds and other creatures that he points out on the tour.

Photos:  The Indian River Trip with Albert Lawrence

Parts of the Indian River were used in the filming of “Pirates of the Caribbean 2”.  Albert points all these points out.  It is so much cooler on the river;  it narrows within a few hundred yards and becomes completely overhung by huge swamp bloodwood mangrove trees on both sides which provide a canopy.  Albert explains that they get their name from their sap – when the bark it cut, it oozes red like blood.  The canopy helps to block out any noise and the trip is almost slient, eerily quiet and magical at the same time.  The roots of the bloodwoods are amazing.  They are massive and spread out along the banks, above and below the water, twisting and tangling into wavy designs. They also help stop the soil erosion which happens during heavy rains - the river can rise by as much as five feet in one day.  These roots are home to many creatures, including the huge white crabs, one of which is shown above.  The river is also less ‘buggy’ than I expected although I liberally coated myself with noxious chemicals before leaving Jeannius.

Eventually the river narrows too much to progress and it is at this point that a bar has been built, so we stop for a drink.  The bar is run by Kent, a lovely young man who works and lives all alone in this semi remote location.  He makes us noxious and strong drinks which are … interesting … shall we say?  Steve, who sticks to beer, is the only one who goes for a second drink.

Photos:  Pretty flowers (and Johanne) allow me to practise with my new camera

The whole trip takes us about 2 hours and cost $160 EC.  It’s probably more in the high season, and I can highly recommend Albert.

The sun is setting as we head back to the boat.  Yet another sunset opportunity.

Photo:  Sunset and rainclouds in Prince Rupert Bay, Portsmouth

Johanne and Steve spend the evening packing while I prepare the last supper, scallops in Swahili sauce.  We watch some comedies on DVD as it’s a bit buggy outside, then turn in for an early night as they have to be up at 4.30am to get their flight.