Iles des Saintes to Marie Galante

When we wake up we decide that we are going to walk up to the Napoleonic Fort at the top of the hill, but looking at the sea from the calm of the bay, we change our minds and head for Marie Galante instead.  Immediately we leave the bay, it is the same situation as yesterday.  The wind picks up right on the nose and the sea gets rough, but it’s not quite as bad as yesterday so we persevere.

We head towards Grand Bourg, the main town and yacht clearance.  At this point we have still not been able to check in to the administration area of Guadeloupe.  We couldn’t in Deshaies.  We couldn’t in Bourg de Saintes.  Mike is concerned that if we cannot make our presence legal by checking in we might be in trouble when we get to Dominica in the morning.

This concern throws a bit of a dampener on the journey and we are all a bit quiet.  This is not helped by the cruising guide section which says that the customs office often isn’t open and even when it is, the customs official often isn’t there as he doesn’t have regular hours.  Obviously there is no contact number for him given in the cruising guide.  That would be just too helpful.  Jesus.

We arrive in the marina at Grand Bourg.  There isn’t much room to anchor even though the diagram makes it look like there is.  Mike immediately gets in the dinghy to try to find customs and Johanne and I make lunch.

A huge ferry comes in right behind us and we are worried that we might be slightly in his path, but he easily finds his way round us.  Mike returns and asks if we noticed which direction the ferry came from because if he came from Dominica the customs official would need to be there at the dock.  He heads off again, just in case, and this time comes back jubilant as he found the customs guy sitting in his car outside the office, having just (presumably) returned from his lunch (the ferry had been a local one after all).  He wasn’t at all concerned by our failure to check in over the last few days, just shrugged his shoulders in that Gaelic gesture that only the French can do, spread his hands and said ‘these things happen’.

As Grand Bourg doesn’t look very enticing, we motor five miles to the north to St Louis, having lunch on the way.

We pass some beautiful beaches on the way.  Deserted and narrow, they are only really accessible by foot or boat.

Photo:  Deserted beach just south of St Louis

Photo:  Steve and Johanne relaxing on one of the trampolines

We anchor in the bay and go ashore to explore but unfortunately that doesn’t take long.  At 4pm in the afternoon, the place is deserted and most of the shops are shut.   Apart from the local nutter on the beach, who shouts to us while having one hand firmly stuck in his groin (nice) and continues to shout long after we have passed him, no one is around. Looking around it is obvious that not as much of our EEC money is spent here!

  Photos:  Deserted streets in St Louis

Photo:  St Louis war memorial

Photo:  You know you are in France when you see a ‘pissoire’

I am sure that Marie Galante is beautiful, and I am really not giving it a chance here, but I have to say I am a little disappointed by what I see.  From what I have read, the interior of the island is beautiful, but the towns are nothing to write home about.  Anyway, we notice the rain clouds rapidly approaching so make a beeline for the dinghy.

Photos:  Dramatic rain clouds over Guadeloupe and The Saintes

 Photo:  Johanne and Steve before the rain hits!

In terms of rain, we escape very lightly, especially when we can see what is on the horizon over the rest of the islands.

We eat marinated tiger prawns with mango mayonnaise and coconut rice for dinner.  Unfortunately, something goes drastically wrong with the coconut rice.  It ends up very sticky and undercooked.  I have done this countless times and it has been fine.  I think that it is because I used a whole can of Coco Lopez, just for the four of us.  (I have been trying to get through the stuff so that I am not tempted to make any more of the hugely fattening BBCs!)  We eat the rice anyway but it is a major disappointment.  We watch the Gavin and Stacey Christmas Special for our entertainment.

Over the last few days it has been a joke between Johanne, Steve and myself to imitate the name calling in Gavin and Stacey.  Johanne is Jolar, Steve is Stevlar, I am Jeanlar and Mike is Skiplar (being the skipper).  It’s all very silly and Mike absolutely refuses to be part of this.  As she goes to bed, Johanne leans over Mike and says “Come on, Mike, say goodnight Jolar”.  He can’t.  He splutters and giggles until tears come into his eyes.  By this time we are all practically crying with laughter too.  He just cannot do it.  Eventually, with a deep breath, in his best Liverpudlian accent (rather than the Essex one required) he manages to blurt it out.  You had to be there!

We had just about calmed down when he looks Johanne up and down and says “I’ve got a t-shirt the same as that, but it’s a different shape” not acknowledging the fact that the reason it might be a different shape is probably something to do with the size of Johanne’s ample charms.  We roll around laughing again.  That has to be the quote of the holiday!