Dear Readers,
We are writing to you from Guadeloupe, a French island that is actually composed of two islands separated only by the narrow water course, Riviere Salle (salt river). The two islands take the shape of a malformed butterfly, one wing larger than the other. The large wing is mountainous and volcanic, and is known for its waterfalls, national parks and jungle terrain. Oddly, this half is called Basse Terre (translation, Low Land). The other half of this island , the smaller wing on the eastern side of Riviere Salle is an older island. Its mountain peaks eroded long ago and it is a low lying mass with wonderful sandy beaches. Curiously, this part of the island is known as Grand Terre (large land). Mimi is now floating off one of those wonderful beaches on Grand Terre by the name of Ilet a Gosier. We don't understand it, but now that we have it straight, we're enjoying it.

In the past 2 weeks since our last entry, we have taken Mimi from the island of Martinique northward,
spending only 2 nights on the island of Dominica, then sailing on to Isle De Saintes, a tiny French holding that is grouped with Guadeloupe. The French take care of their islands and that said, Martinique and Isle De Saintes appear to be financially healthy with good roads, services (such as garbage cans and public bathrooms) good grocery stores and absolutely irresistible patisseries. Dominica, which sits right between the two, is quite a contrast with its poor infrastructure, scant services, (we don't even try to take garbage ashore) shoddy or nonexistent docks, meager grocery stores,persistent boat boys, obviously poor population and potential for crime. Surprisingly, something about it called to us at this year's stop. Maybe we'd spent too much time on easy-street ( Martinique). We had to move on though. Carnival was approaching. We stayed just 2 days but made plans to return.

This year we had our eye on Isle De Saintes for Carnival which fell on March 6,7 and 8....the Sunday, Monday and Tuesday prior to Ash Wednesday. Traditional celebrations take place on almost all the islands in the chain, each one with its personal stamp. We weren't sure what would take place at the Saintes, but it had been recommended by some cruiser friends who "knew Carnival".
Last year we had been in the large city of Fort De France for Carnival. Thousands of people marched in costume. Dozens of bands marched around the city. TheSaintes was more of a village setting. More like going to a 4th of July celebration in a small town (like Wausaukee!) and we thought we'd enjoy it.

The winds have been very heavy in the Caribbean this year. We have met cruisers who have crossed the Atlantic, sailed the North Sea and even one couple that have done the better part of a circumnavigation....all of which have been somewhat traumatized by the winds and seas in the Caribbean this year. No kidding! Our passage between Dominica and Martinique followed the usual pattern.....8 to 10 foot seas and winds gusting into the 20s......even though we had waited for a mild weather pattern. Transiting Dominica to the Saintes finally, after 2 months of waiting, delivered the idyllic goods and we had a passage much like we all imagine. Captain and I were happy campers (oops, I mean Sailors!) and got to the Saintes with smiles on our faces.

Isle De Saintes is so small that its history didn't follow the regular pattern of the other Caribbean islands. The islands weren't agricultural, so slaves weren't imported. The islands have stayed French since they were colonized. and today the main population is French speaking and a good part of the population have come from Brittany on France's northwestern coast. The people are a beautiful blend of French and Caribbean. Throughout the village the homes are cottage-like with darling shutters, covered porches and red tin roofs. The smell of baguettes baking waifs though the air. People sit on benches, chat and eat ice cream and little stores sell regional fabrics and other souvenirs. The commerce is fed by ferries transporting visitors from large cities on Guadeloupe and the only glitch in this picture is the propensity of scooters screaming by ceaselessly.....the renting of which is a super earner for many of the islands merchants. The water on the shoreline is clear and unless a north swell comes in, the anchorage is nice and still. There are several challenging walks on the main island of Terre Den Haut that can lead to beaches or vistas. Keith and I took several, the most challenging of which was to Fort Chambeau, at an elevation of 1500 feet above Mimi....oops, I mean above sea-level.
The views were awesome, but the muscle and aerobic strain were something else. We are glad we did it and we think it might have even help offset the caloric gain our bodies are trying to cope with from all the baguettes and pain au chocolat.

Carnival in this small village did have the personal punch of a local event. We hustled in on Sunday when it was evident from the drum beat that things had started. Happily we ran into friends Ron and Penny from the ship (really, their boat is a ship) Arctic Vixen. We had met them on this very island last year, had struck up an immediate accord, and this time around got to spend some really nice social time with them. Here is what the Carnival parade is composed of in Isle De Saintes: First in line - Big flat-bed truck with huge speakers on the back. Also at the rear of the bed sits a keyboard which will be marched behind by a most important, amplified keyboard player. The piano tone they choose is one that sounds much like an accordion. Next to the player marches one or two vocalists, loudly singing in French one of the 3 or so songs that make up their repertoire. Behind these fellows marches a Salvation Army Band of sorts with horns (trumpets and trombones) and then a happy, energetic hodge-podge of drummers and percussion players. Most of the drums are standard, but some of them are cut-off barrels. Everyone is super enthusiastic and most have a costume element to their clothing. Behind this group are a group of dancers. The dancers were absolutely charming with self-made tropical style hats and white dresses with full skirts. The first of the procession were a group of children. All of the little girls looked so darling in their hats and outfits and moved along with a choreographed set of steps. Behind them were their older counterpart, getting more aged as the group tapered off. Around the town they went stopping and putting on a show at different locations. The best seats in the house were the step of the Church. I hung out there. Ron and Penny followed the band around the town and Keith went back to the boat to work on some belt of filter (or whatever).
Toward the end of the event, Keith returned and we watched the action from the Church together. It was a great evening.
The next day of Carnival we hosted Ron and Penny on our boat along with 2 other boating couples, had drinks and puu-puus and then headed in for Pizza expecting second day of Carnival to start around 7:30 or so. We all went into town. We ate. We talked. Everything was quiet which was strange. Suddenly a huge group of 300 or so people marched by silently all wearing black and white. A man at a nearby table told us that a 13 year old girl from the island had died that day in a motorcycle accident and that Carnival was canceled. He was angry. He pointed to TV, drugs and the Internet being a bad influence. He obviously didn't like seeing the cultural change and felt it was detrimental to their lives. We were all taken with the solidarity of the island for the loss of one of their own. It was touching.

Wednesday things picked up again though several of the participants wore a black arm band over their costumes. This day the trucks, keyboard player and band were of the same ilk, but the dancers had changed costumes with gorgeous frilled long skirts and stunning headdresses. This time, marching behind the dancers were a jovial bunch of "men" dressed in black pants, white shirts and ties. Some had made themselves poochie stomachs. All wore full head masks which were portraying either Obama or (we think) Sarkosi. It was a riot, though we weren't sure what point they were trying to make. Some got together (a Sarkosi and an Obama) and did a close dance complete with pelvic thrusting. One of the Sarkosi characters would face the crowd and stroke his chin, then his nose in a thoughtful fashion. We were puzzled, but fascinated. Following this element of the parade was the show stopper of a massive lizard, Chinese New Years style, with about a dozen people within it making it slither through the town.
Thursday, Carnival behind us we moved northward to Guadeloupe.

The passage to Guadeloupe was fairly mild and we motored into the wind. As we approached the island, the depth shallowed to about 25to 50 feet. Finally we had a fish on the line without Doug on board. I slowed the engines as the Captain reeled him in... an awesome 3 foot barracuda. Barracudas are a large reef predator. It eats fish that feed on coral. Fish that feed on coral carry a very nasty cumulative nerve toxin by the name of ciguatera. As the barracuda eats more and more of these toxin carrying fish, it grows, and so does its toxicity. We had eaten a 2 foot barracuda that Doug had caught in the Grenadines. We have read that ciguatera is not prevalent in the islands south of St. Kitts, and we were well south of that island in the Grenadines, and somewhat south of it here in Guadeloupe.
If a person eats a fish that that has ciguatera toxins, they can expect some nasty physical responses, such as fever, achy joints, gastrointestinal disorders and an odd nerve response. Hot will feel cold and cold will feel hot! There is no throwing back a barracuda as getting the hook out of its throat while it is alive is nearly impossible. The barracuda has some really nasty long teeth. So Keith cut him up into gorgeous filets and minded my one request that we ask a local fish expert if we were smart to eat this fish. Ultimately, the answer was no...not over 2 feet in length even that this latitude. Out of the Tupperware and into the sea he went to be eaten by other predators. Such is the circle of life.

I had always been fascinated by the Riviere Salle having read that at the northern end the water was crystal clear, white sand bottomed and red starfish littered the sea floor. The recommendation was to get towed behind a dinghy and glide, flying-like over this magical terrain. Having anchored at Pointe a Pitre, Keith and I took off in the dinghy and motored northward through the 4 miles of mangrove lined waterway, nearly getting plowed over by a (jerk) powerboater. Unfortunately at the north-end, things were rough, stirred-up and likely we would have had to venture a few miles more to take in the idyllic scene the cruising guide described....and we suspected it was too rough to experience its special features anyway.

At days end, I asked Keith to take me around the corner in the dinghy to scope out the Old Town of Point a Pitre. Here we discovered that they were celebrating the last night of Carnival that evening. It is amazing the things you discover through dumb luck. We went back to the boat, cleaned up and headed in, dressed in our best black and white (the theme of the night). Several bands blaring horns and banging drums marched by with a casual crowd of dancers. We ate from the food stands (Bokit and crepes) and excitedly watched as the traditional statue of the symbol of Carnival was rolled out on the wharf for ceremonial burning. Certainly we thought, they would float the huge plasticized statue out into the water for the effigy. We hung out. We waited. We thought, "hmm, isn't that awfully close to our dinghy?" Suddenly the flames roared up....at the same time, our stomachs turned. Nope. Vaval (the name of the fellow who symbolizes Carnival.......and by the way a serious look alike contender for the masked Sarkosi fellow in the Saintes parade (we are still confused by that) was not pushed out into the water and was torching up right next to where we had tied out dinghy. Sparks flared, flames shot upward, and smoke billowed. Luckily, by the time we got to survey our little boat we found that she was only coated with soot and ashes. No burn holes, thank goodness. An exciting fireworks show ended the evening and we headed back to Mimi having had a great day.


Our next stop on this Southeastern shore of Guadeloupe was Ilet a Grosier, which has a sand lined shore and boasts a sweet little palm dotted island about 1/4 mile offshore which is capped off with a historic lighthouse. As we motored into the bay I checked to make sure that Keith saw the 4 different swimmers crossing from the island to the town shore. This was the beginning of an amazing observation. During the two days we stayed in this very nice anchorage we must have seen at least 100 locals swimming at various paces from the shore to the island and back. Some were lifeguard quality, but many were just relaxed swimmers making their way back and forth, some stopping for a chat. On shore, we noticed an inordinate amount of people running back and forth on the shortish beach front. We don't know if it is something in the water, a challenge from Weight Watchers, or just what it is, but we were amazed by the quest for fitness that went on in this town. We laughed about the movie "Cocoon" and pondered the possibilities.

Note: We were able to return to this anchorage for our very last night before heading south to the Saintes. Two male swimmers, on a long course to the island passed close to the boat. They sensed me watching them and raised their heads at which time I asked if either of them spoke English. Yes! So I queried, "what is all this swimming about? So many people are out swimming to the island every and also running on the beach. Is there a race coming up? " The answer, a big smiley "no!" Swimming is very peaceful and beautiful. It is the Guadeloupian way!" We are still amazed at the masses of people out doing their daily machination. Captain and I suited up, swam to the island, swam back to the town beach, then after a fast stroll down the shore, swam back to Mimi. If we move to Guadeloupe, this is the town we will live in!This was a very good spot to leave the boat while we rented a car for some touring. Yesterday we got a little Peugeot and headed for the "Carbet Chutes" the highest waterfalls in the Caribbean. Here was a place to prove our muscle. We strapped on our hiking shoes and headed for the highest possible climb. I won't go into all the gruesome realizations of our aging knees, hips, ankles, backs and glutes, but I will say that we took a 3 1/2 hour hike that escalated from nifty wooden walkways to rock studded passages, to slimy mud treks through boulder strewn mountainsides, ending in a lovely view of a waterfall. I could barely walk today and suspect that I will never knowingly take another hike like that again at this stage in my life. Simultaneously, I am proud that we made it.........however I am tired and crabby as a ...________.well, I'll let Keith fill in that blank.

March 13, Sainte Francois
We are almost sitting on the tip of the butterfly's wing at this point. When casting our eyes East, there is a real feeling of looking out into the vastness of the Atlantic ocean. The water is crystal clear (or "gin clear" as the Captain likes to say) with a turquoise hue while the sky is true sky blue with billowy white clouds floating by. We are anchored behind an exposed reef. Locals, this Sunday, have come out in there little pleasure crafts to hang out, walk on the reef and languish in the shallow gorgeous water. Never failing to review his engines, the Captain has found that one of the bolts anchoring the alternator is stripped. Further exploring is to be put on hold. We are headed back to Point De Pitre to a well qualified mechanic (it is a blessing to have one so close by).

March 14
As we were leaving Sainte Francois this morning, the port engine didn't want to start. Another clue that heading to the mechanic is the right thing to be doing. Two kayakers drafted off of our stern for the first 1/2 mile out of the harbor. As they detached and headed off we were reminded of dolphins.

My apologies for such a long and overdue blog. The trip this year has lacked some of the fantasy that prior years dished up. Maybe it is the "done that, been there" syndrome, or maybe not. Maybe I'm just getting lazy and more at home in this part of the world. For those of you who worried for our safely, many apologies, once again.

We are exactly one month from returning to Santa Cruz. Better kick it up a few notches. Friends Sandi and Dave Moore are due on board in just over a week and we will take them through the Grenadines which will be a hoot in itself.

Write when you have the time. We love hearing what is going on at home............We did hear about the tsunami! Holy cow! Hope everyone is OK!

'Til next time,
Love,
Captain and Crew,
S/V Mimi