AlexandrA comes home

Sorry about the delay folks, the pace has been a bit hectic and this is a catchup and a half unless you French is up to scratch. So make a cuppa or settle down with a drink and let me bring you up to speed.

Where were we? St Kits. Well this was our first real intro to the impact the cruise ship market has on the island economies. As we approached there were no less than three HUGE floating metropolises at the town dock. All these clones went through a sort of Disney Dock with gaudy souvenir shops all looking the same and trying to be unique.

We all agreed that we did need to actually look at the islands we were visiting so b what was booked an island tour in what was promised to be ‘special’. ‘Unique’ might have been a more truthful word for our Van was just that. First off to the sugarcane/tobacco/and everything else plantation where we inhaled our first whiffs of rain forest. On the way we discovered that indeed these islanders are very, very religious with not one or two churches, but hundreds as our guide pointed out each and every one. For those so inclined this would be a mecca of church viewing.

The scenery flashed past as did most other vehicles for we soon found our driver was related to almost everyone and had a deep binding need to stop were all the road vendors happened to have their stalls. Coincidence?

But in due course we arrived ad Brimstone Hill Fort, a bastion at times owned by the English and French. This imposing structure kept us entertained for many hours wandering through the well laid out displays. They deserve a big tick for effort.

Then we swung around the island and back to the boat with a better understanding of what island life was like.

Then started our ‘night starts’ leaving in the wee hours for our next destination. This gave those on watch at the time the chance to see dawn rise over the sea. We passed the sister island of Nevis without dropping in, too close, but maybe that was a shame in hindsight. But hey, you cannot do everything. Next stop Montserrat.

This volcanic island turned out to be something of an eye opener. The arrival officer looked most official even though his office and that of the Police Centre was no more than a shipping container. Again a trip was in order and the following day we went to witness the brutal force of nature in an island.

The north side of the island seemed to be enjoying a revival but, as we were to discover, it was only because the south of the island, the old centre of life and commerce, was now an abandoned and buried memory.

A few years ago the volcano erupted and literally smothered the township of Plymouth. Today as you approach it looks fins from a distance until you discover that all the houses are ruined shells. Ash buries many up to the second story. The Four Seasons hotel swimmingpool is now filled with an ash concrete and nature is slowly taking back the landscape. It is a sad but powerful trip to make and while we might not have enjoyed it, we would not have missed it.

That night Bill and joanne, (my wallet rescuers) turned up and we had more chats radio to work which gave us hope. Montserrat will always go into my memory as a place where people did not desert their homeland and started again to make it their own piece of paradise.

From here, another night start found us in Guadeloupe where Max proved is mastery of the boat and parked us perfectly in a treat for us all, a marina. We were surrounded by fine sailing ships all moored stern on to a boardwalk where people ambled and looked upon the rich and mighty and then there was us. Ah well, it didn’t spoil all their dreams.

The loos in this marina were what can only be described as a work of art with self turning off and on everything including self washing toilet seats! Extraordinary. A laundry too so everything got a good clean including AlexandrA.

We hired a car for this island as there were still repairs that needed attention and Remy drove us about as it was a French (again) island. After a few forays to find the right kind of shops we seemed to have purchased all we needed. Thus the following day we set off with a map to she what we could see. Once free of the city we were in winding hills and dales. Sugar cane, of course, and other farming activities gave way to rain forrest. We found a waterfall and other spots but eventually came across Deshaies (pronounced Dey Hey) which was just magical. It is a big island and our reconnaissance could not do it justice.

The boys continued to do their work until it came time to depart. Then the cat, remember him, well we ran over another. In sort order we tangled our anchor which led to the loss of the boat hook. Then we ran over a fishing net and put one of the engines out of order. This was followed by forgetting to wind in our lines as we approached a quiet sheltered bay. The net result was a need to dive and clear away the debris. Not an unpleasant chore I have to say.

That evening Mark and I walked over the hill to see the other side and the following day we took the boat over. A pretty island with simple but pleasant shops and hundreds of scooters.

Then it was on to our last Caribbean island of Dominica. By the way for most of this trip we had not had the best winds and were looking forward to turning west with following winds. Not yet however.

We sailed the length of the island and following suggestions in our ever faithful Guide Book, located Pancho, our boat guide. I wish I had a photo of him for he was a black version of Capt. Sparrow of Priates fame. He organized a place to us to anchor but it was in deep water which became an issue later.

He also organized another island tour which turned out to be the most disappointing so far. Sulphur springs that bubbled in a little puddle, a waterfall we could not reach and hot pools the required you to be a mountain goat to reach so were out of reach for all but Mark. All it did was cement our ambition to leave on the 7-8 day voyage to Colon.

However that night we dragged anchor and Pancho came to our rescue helping us find a bouy for the night. He earned his bonus and the kilo of sugar we gave him. The irony of it, the Cane Islands and yet there was no sugar in the shops.

So it was we turned our backs, on Monday at 5.30 and set sail, literally, for the sunset. We were all quiet in anticipation wondering how we would privately cope. By now the Radio was fully functional and we had a way to send emails and get GRIB weather reports. We had all we needed plus I had pre-cooked 7 dinners in case it got hard to cook.

We had great weather and had expected the winds to ease on the Wednesday. The opposite happened and the seas built to maybe 3 meters and a cross swell. Below, at night, you would thump around in the bed wondering is sleep would ever happen but it always did.

We got to a low grade storm force and at one point hit 18 knots which is extraordinary. During the day you would look out the back of the boat up to the wave crests and wonder if they would break. But as with all weather is dissipated and we were still going well with gull winged jib and genica. Lovely!

We cleared the trampolines of small flying fish each day and were visited by pod of dolphins. Mark even found one in his toilet (flying fish, not dolphin) straight through the window and bulls eye!

On the last night a tiny swallow flew into the cabin and roosted for the night on my hat, leaving at dawn as we closed with the land. Technology played an important role in the pre-dawn shift keeping clear of lighthouses without lights and ships. It all worked like a charm and in the early hours we slipped into the breakwater in Colon.

It looks like it will be a week before the boat can transit. We are now in the Agent’s hands so we shall see.

More as things happen. Signing off.

Brodie