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.