Between a lack of internet, and an overactive imagination, I have been quite derelict in this blog lately. The internet thing is self-explanatory, but in my imagination, I have already written about 5 blogs... Sadly, they never made it onto the computer and I didn't realise just how far behind I am until today. {{sigh}}
Let's see, the last thing was Rodney bay and the ARC. We finished our finish line gig for the ARC (we welcomed in the last boat to finish), and met some very nice people while we were at it. We had one Norwegian/Canadian gentleman stop by because he saw the Canadian flag on the back of the finish line boat (it wasn't us, but that's okay). We had two German guys show up as we were settling down to enjoy our dinner, asking about when their friends were expected (uh, guys, they arrived a couple of hours ago), they came back the next day for some information about the Caribbean.
When we decided it was time to get going, we went to check on the status of Ken's shoes, the ones that were in the shop for about 3 weeks to get some stitching. It turns out that they were down in Castries, awaiting their turn, and waiting for the machine to be repaired - which was broken when I dropped them off. What?!? Nobody told us this? We managed to get them back that evening (we were leaving the next day and I had already checked us out with the authorities), and got our last beer from Antillia Brewing Company, located conveniently close to the shoe (dis)repair.
We had another good sail up to Fort de France, but we are becoming increasingly frustrated with our autopilot. Anything like a quartering sea and it drives like a drunk. I got so fed up I took the wheel for about half of the crossing from Rodney Bay to Martinique (about 2 hours of hand steering). Once we got into the lee of the island it wasn't a problem. Gee, thanks Otto. We managed to find a decent spot to anchor, then got moving. We were doing a short stop over to pick up a few things before pushing on to Dominica (we had a decent weather window to get north before it became uglier). We split up, me to get coffee beans (in the desperation of getting in my run, I ran 3 km back with about 15 pounds of groceries), Ken to get cheese, cookies and a baguette. We neded up staying a little longer, so we managed to get a few more things the next morning before going up to the St. Pierre area to stage for the jump to Dominica.
At our favourite anchorage just by St. Pierre, we ran into 'Day Dreamer', a family boat that we know well. As Lisa and I chatted outside, we witnessed a glorious rainbow that lasted, no exaggeration, about 45 minutes. The angle of the sun and the movement of the rain choreographed into a spectacular display of refractory colours. There was a double rainbow, and also double colours... it ran the gamut of rainbow splendor.
A little while later, Ken and I were settling in for a nap when we heard Peter from 'Day Dreamer' motor up and call us. I popped out into the cockpit to say hi, he asked us our policy on dragging boats. What? He chucked a thumb out into the open water where a small-ish boat was making its way towards Belize. Ken and I jumped into the dinghy with Peter (our outboard was on our stern rail) and chased after the runaway. We tied Peter's dinghy onto the hip of the approximately 8-9m sailboat where he proceeded to try to play tugboat. We realised that it was still attached to its mooring, so I decided to release the useless pile of weight, which increased our performance immeasurably. Rather than trying to anchor the boat in St. Pierre, there being a reason neither one of our boats being there, we dragged it over to our anchorage and dropped the hook there. Lisa contacted the authorities, who found the owner, and all was well in that corner of the world again.
Our trip from Martinique to Dominica was, well, crappy. We had more and bigger squalls than advertised, and at one point, while I was at the helm (Otto, you are a jerk) we had a squall come up with close to 40 knots of wind. All I could do was turn up into the wind, which wasn't easy. The seas were uncomfortable, and we had to hand steer until we got well into the lee of Dominica's protection. We wanted to get a mooring ball by Sea Cat's by Roseau, but the ball was in the middle of nowhere, and it was rather rolly. We dropped the ball and headed up to Portsmouth ("No point in paying to be miserable," was Ken's comment). We got to Portsmouth with enough time to get securely anchored. We went to Customs the following morning (a Sunday) where we went to the housing for the Customs officers to check in. With overtime of only $30 EC, it isn't a hardship.
I "follow" a couple of pages about Dominica on Facebook, and one is about hiking. Through it I found out about a waterfall about a mile from the anchorage, and the directions on how to get there. I ran there the first day, and had a "wow" moment. It is a waterfall that comes through a deep crevice in the dark rocks. The trail is groomed, somewhat, and goes through a gorgeous ravine with epiphytes and ficus roots hanging down, and an old cocoa plantation, so a snack was possible. This was one to bring other people back to! This we did with some other cruisers, including some who had never enjoyed eating the pulp from a cocoa pod, a.k.a mountain M&M's.
Christmas was special this year. One of my high school classmates, Ginette, invited us to her house for Christmas lunch, just a "little" get together of "only" about 35 people. She lives in Roseau, but knew we had the boat in Portsmouth, so offered us a room at her hotel for free. Between the luxury of a hotel room (what, lots of running water AND a kitchenette!) and a really lovely Caribbean Christmas lunch with a bunch of people, it was fantastic. We made new friends, and met some very interesting people. Ginette's brother-in-law is the Prime Minister of St. Vincent and the Grenadines, and he has a million stories. Venetta was there, too, and she made some excellent sorrel (a traditional holiday drink from a certain hibiscus flower). Funny, though, that I introduced the Dominicans to rum and coconut water, and rum and sorrel. They have a thing or two to learn from Grenadians about rum mixers! Ginette's mother makes a great Christmas black cake, and pouring cognac on it then setting it aflame was a new one on me; her hard sauce is divine.
Old Year's Night/New Year's Day was a party at another classmate's place. Juliette was hosting a "fete" that was not to be missed. For people who see 9:00pm as a viable bedtime, this was daunting. However, we arrived at about 11:00pm (Ginette's brother and sister-in-law were going to the same party and staying at the hotel, too, so we got a ride with them). No kidding that this was a fete, not just a party. Tents in the yard provided protection if one of Dominica's frequent rain showers should choose to attend (none did), and a DJ cranked out the tunes. The bar was hopping, and the food was plentiful. When we departed at 3:00am, people were still just arriving. It is not uncommon for Dominicans to go to church from about 10-2, then hit the parties. Party hopping is also common. Juliette saw her last guests out at 7:30 that morning. I have no idea what time Venetta stayed until.
Unfortunately, some kids that hung around the dinghy dock soured our stay in Dominica. They felt that using our dinghies as inflatable toys was acceptable, and messed with our security chain one day. When they messed with one of the yacht service/guides boats, though, then it became very serious. Since we chose to row ashore, going to another dock wasn't an option, so we either tried to pick our times to go ashore when they probably weren't around (this was during school holidays for Christmas) or one of us would row the other ashore and wait for the call to make a pickup. I think that they have got things sorted out now.
We also made another visit to Point Baptiste Chocolate to introduce others to Alan's fine products. He's expanded his production capacity!
We are now in Guadeloupe. A week in Les Saintes was a startling change from Dominica, as usual. We then successfully avoided the fish pots to anchor at Gosier, not too far from Pointe de Pitre.
With our wonderful, longer oars for the dinghy, I have had a stubborn streak of wanting to row as much as possible. In the last approximately 14 weeks, since we left Grenada, the outboard has only been on the dinghy for about 3 weeks, when we were in Rodney Bay and rowing in would take waaay to long. Otherwise, it has been the "other two stroke"; two oars, doing the rowing stroke.
Whew... that is a lot to remember!