Day 4 in Martinique began with the aft head (toilet) getting jammed. We have two heads on the boat because two heads are better than one—so if one is out of order, we have a backup. But the forward head is a vacuum flush, and requires a bit of fresh water for its electronic cycle. That reminds us that we’re getting low on water; Tom’s been trying to call a water delivery boat that we’ve seen, but no response. Now the new first priority on the day’s agenda is to fix the head, so Tom gets right to work (yes, I’m very mechanical, but the aft head is his head, so clearly the clog is his to fix). After 3–1/2 hours he conceded defeat—the plug must be in the hose that runs to the exterior, and we don’t have a snake or other means of attacking the problem, so we’ll need to go ashore to find help. I suggest we turn off the fresh water pump while we’re ashore, just in case our tiny leak causes it to kick in and the tank runs dry and the pump keeps running. Meanwhile, I’ve used the forward head and flushed, and whammo! The water tank ran dry and the pump kicked on and We Are Out Of Water! And now both heads are unusable, so it’s time to cast off the mooring and go in to the fuel dock for water…and fuel, while we’re at it. We tied the dinghy to the mooring and hustled to the fuel dock, and were only second in line, with three boats on the dock. You never know how long you’ll be waiting; some big boats might take upwards of an hour to fill huge tanks, especially if they let their passengers wander off in the meantime. But we were lucky, didn’t have to wait long that day, and were back on our mooring fully fueled, watered, and with a suggestion of where to try for the head repair—Caraibe Marine.

We went back to the marina building, to the tourist office, to pick up the laundry. While Tom was on the upper level doing that, I was on the lower level at a small laundromat doing one more small load of laundry. An English-speaking woman was there, talking to the washing machine about its inadequate instructions. Together we figured out, more or less, where to put the detergent, where and how to pay, and how to set the temperature. We got to chatting, of course. She’s on a friend’s boat for a couple months, and before this adventure she was in the Philippines doing humanitarian work. She grew up in East Germany, and realized after the fact that her best friend’s father was spying on her family. She was told as a girl that she wouldn’t be able to go to high school or travel the world—two things that she desperately wanted to do—and then The Wall came down. She became a software engineer, traveling the world to meet with, as she said, geeks and nerds. After 17 years she left that job and is now doing more traveling; when I suggested she probably wouldn’t have any trouble getting another job, she said google and amazon are possibilities in Berlin. I suggested she write a book about her fascinating life, but she said she’d rather tell her story one-on-one, because everyone hears it from their own place. A man in India said, “We’d heard about this, but didn’t know if it was true.” And to me she explained that those who spied did so because they were threatened—do this or lose your children. She felt like she’d lived the life of a refugee. “Not like the Syrians, or others of today, but still…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. It was a compelling story. Worth doing laundry!

Tom and I rejoined upstairs with our bags of laundry, and went to Numero 20, a nice tapas bar, to relax and use some WiFi time. We got a FaceTime call from Laura, wherein Charlotte grabbed the phone and gave us a racing tour of the ceiling of her bedroom, the bathroom, and Laura’s office, interspersed with Laura’s face. We managed some conversation, but cut it short because, after all, we were in a restaurant (even if it was pre-dinner hour). Shortly thereafter our 1G of wifi runs out. I switched to the ½ -hour of daily free WiFi we get as marina guests while Tom goes over to the Simply Market to see what provisions he can find. He returned, reporting that it’s much better than the Leader Price, and certainly much closer! We decided to grab a quick dinner at the Cocoarum Restaurant there at the marina before heading back out to the boat, but when the waitress came, she said, “Kitchen closed. Only drinks.” We’re so provincial! We think 6:00 pm is a reasonable dinner hour!

Back at the boat, we realize the laundry service has shorted us one bath towel and they used an awfully fragrant softener, and I’m nauseated by the smell of everything. Thus ends Day 4.

Day 5 in Martinique, Sunday, February 4. We reconnoitered the waterfront by dinghy, and found the Bichik Fuel/Snack/Laundry business that the Doyle guide said was the place to go for snacks, drinks, and conversation. Yuck! Not at all appealing. It was tucked in a corner of a large yacht yard/haul-out facility, Carenantilles. The yard had 80-ton and 400-ton travel lifts, several shops—rigging, electronics, fiberglass, etc., plus a restaurant, but it was all shut down on Sunday. Fortunately another couple was coming into the yard, as entry and exit was restricted by a locked gate. They told us the code, and we walked up to the Carrefour grocery store, which was very nice. The natural food store adjoining it was closed, but I had high hopes for it when we returned Monday.

We returned to the Carenantilles yard the next day, and while Tom talked to a mechanic (no, they don’t unplug heads, but they could change the oil... in another week), I proceeded up the hill to the stores. The natural food store had a meager selection, with the only gluten-free bread being individual rolls for about 4 or 5 euros each. I passed on those! Back again to Carrefour, next door, then we dinghied back to Bravo to deposit our purchases. Off again, this time to Caraibe Marine, but alas, they also do not fix toilets. They sent us to another person, but he only fixes outboard motors—he can’t even change our engine’s oil. Finally, Tom went to RM (a general services place recommended in the Doyle guide that I had suggested we try right off the bat…), which stands for Roberto Maxera. He says come back in 45 minutes—we have our man! He can do it all. Tom will meet him at 9:00 am, see the slip we’re to enter, then we take Bravo in for repairs. While Tom went to RM, I went to the tourist office to report the missing towel, intending to ask for the laundry’s phone number so I could call them. But the extraordinarily kind person in the office immediately picked up the phone and called the laundry. They’d look into it; I’ll check back.

While we’re ashore, we use more of our paid WiFi time (2G for 8€), have lunch, then head back to the Leader Price store, but this time by dinghy rather than the mile(s)-long walk. LP seems to have made a great effort to attract boaters, with a very nice dinghy dock, a paved walkway up to the store, and a covered cart return area by the dock. Before grocery shopping, we searched for the Digicel store that people said was right by LP, and sure enough, up the path to McDonalds, across another parking lot…we found it. So now we have an international phone number that we bought before we left home (372-8143-2119) and a Martinique phone number (0696-53 97 22). Back to LP for grocery shopping (it seems to have improved since we had to walk 20 miles to get there), and then home (a.k.a., back to Bravo).

Tuesday , February 6, Day 7 in Martinique, is the Unforgettable Day of Repairs. As arranged, Tom met with Roberto Maxera to reconnoiter the Med-moor slip we’re to back into. He warns Tom to be aware that the mooring ball is pulling from a concrete block, and we’ll need to swerve around that…in the 30-knot wind blowing broadside. We rig docklines and fenders and proceed to the appropriate marina channel, backing down it against the 30-knot wind, with me on the bow holding a line ready for a guy in an inflatable to slip into the mooring ring and hand back to me to secure. When we get to the head of the channel where the slip is, no one’s there to help us. Tom whistles, knowing they’re on a catamaran across the channel. No response, so we motored out of the channel and backed in again—with that amount of wind there was no way to remain stationary and just wait. Another whistle, but still no response. Back out, back in, this time with a blast from the air horn. No response. Back out. Backing in yet again, another air horn blast rouses the workers from the catamaran, but they’re not in position to help, so we have to exit the channel again. Final approach, the guy in the inflatable is still bailing furiously—he’s ankle-deep in water, and has to keep restarting his finicky motor, but he finally takes the line from me in the nick of time. Meanwhile, to quote Tom’s log entry, “So here’s the challenge—the ball (Med-moor ball) is roughly in the middle of our entry space. And that ball’s anchor line stretches farther across our entry—so I have to back into 30 knots of stern wind, overshoot the approach between two boats while having 30 knots on the beam as I aggressively power back into the slip with the RM guys shouting directions at bow & stern in French! Whew. A nice young man named Valentine and Tom worked together for several hours and the oil and filter were changed, the fuel filter changed, and then the big one…the head was declogged. Meanwhile I was on shore uploading a blog post and lots of pictures and blowing through another 2G of WiFi , so I bought another 2G. I also went to the tourist office for an update on Tom’s missing blue towel, since they’re now the official go-between. The towel can’t be found, but they’ll give us another one.

When the repairs on the boat were completed, Tom went up to the office to pay and requested a couple people to help us get out of the slip. They discussed the exit strategy, lines were adjusted, everyone was in place, and Tom hit the throttle so we could rocket out of the slip without getting blown sideways into the neighboring boat. Zoom! Slam! We went firmly aground in the mud. The depth sounder showed 5’2”. We draw 6’2”, as we told Roberto. Inflatable dinghies tried pushing and pulling. Bravo’s 76 horsepower won’t budge us. One of the RM people called the harbormaster, who zoomed in, took our spare halyard, pulled the boat on her side, and we were out of the mud. It sounds so easy in the retelling, but it was a nerve wracking experience. Back to the mooring, and fortunately our dinghy is still tied there!

Day 8 follows yet another windy, squally night—one after another, and this is the dry season! We go into the marina building for some WiFi time, and I checked the two car rental agencies, hoping we can get a car and drive to Genipa, where there’s a big shopping center including a big Carrefour supermarket, which I’m hoping might have gluten-free bread. Neither agency has cars—totally booked up. We go to the tourist office, and I said, “I have a real tourist question today!” They were pleased (still waiting for the blue towel replacement). We asked how to get to Genipa by bus, and they brought up several bus schedules on the computer, but not only is it not an easy thing to do, it’s apparently too late in the day to begin such a trip—one must start at 9:00 am. We went back to the boat and read.

Thursday, February 8, Day 9. Another windy, squally night. That means frequently being awakened to open or close the hatch over us. If we leave it closed, it’s stifling; if we leave it open, well… We go ashore to catch the 9:00 bus for the first leg of our trip to Genipa, but we’re confused as to where to go. There are different types of buses—community and regional—and they stop in different places, and I wasn’t sure which bus we were supposed to take first…or second. So we went into the RM office and asked the very nice lady in there, and she convinced us it would be very complicated, many stops, and many hours of travel. She called a taxi, but that would cost 120€ there and back, with a wait. Neither mode of transportation is easy to use here, which is why all the rental cars were gone! Nice Lady then called a friend who sometimes taxis people (while she’s on the phone Roberto and others come in, greet us warmly, much chattering in French and some English about our experience leaving the slip), and the friend can do it for 40€ but not until the next day. We decide this has become too much bother and abandon the plan. One last run to Leader Price for groceries, then back to the boat where I color a greeting card to give as a merci/thank you to the tourist office the next day. They’ve bent over backwards trying to get our missing towel issue resolved!

Day 10 in Martinique. Another night of open hatch, close hatch, stifling, raining. We go ashore to deliver the card to the tourist office, and the woman who first helped me and whom I consider to be the boss is there, and is touched by the card. But no replacement blue towel! She calls them again. We shrug and move on. Check out of the marina, use up our WiFi time, Tom got some antifogging spray for his snorkel mask, another run to the Simply supermarket, and Tom went back to the tourist office one last time. They tried calling the laundry; he waited; they called again, and just as he was about to leave, the young man came in with a bright turquoise towel…reeking of fabric softener. We let it hang on the rail through a couple rain showers, and it calmed down.

We departed Marin for the long voyage ( a mile? Two?) to Sainte Anne, where we anchored, went ashore and found the boulangerie, Cherie Doudou, with free WiFi. We found a 2015 Salty Dawg compatriot and had a good chat. Passing the church in the center of town, it looked like there might be a pre-carnival event, because everyone looked so festive in black and white, but it was a funeral. A festive funeral! Back at the boat, although the water here is clean enough for swimming, a rain squall was threatening, so we showered below, as we’ve had to do while being in Marin. Again, it was a wild night of squalls, but now we listened to the sound of the anchor rode groaning and squealing.

Saturday, February 10, Day 11 in Martinique was so windy and rainy we stayed on the boat all day. We’re surrounded by boats from France, of course, Brazil, Germany, Sweden, UK, USA, Canada, Switzerland, and others. Many have small children—more than in 1989 when we had our kids aboard. We’re delighted to see them, because we believe it’s the best learning experience you can give your kids.

Monday, February 12, we tried to find the man who delivers water to boats. He’s got a bright yellow craft with a big tank, and although we’ve seen him motoring through the anchorages, we’re unable to reach him by radio or phone. We walked a very long way to his place of business, but he’s not there. We’re too low on water to mess around any longer, so after one more rain squall we up anchor and head back to Marin. The fuel/water dock isn’t busy, so we’re able to tie up promptly, and because there are no dock hands to help, a fellow sailor, Tony Burn, gives us a hand. Turns out they’re from Buffalo, but are members of and hail from the Youngstown Yacht Club! I grew up at that club, my father was commodore in the 60s, and Tom and I sailed out of there. And their Oyster 53 is named Spindrift, which was the name of one of my parents’ boats. Back to Ste. Anne, and an even better spot to anchor, a bit closer to shore. We had cocktails on Pandora with Bob and Brenda Osborne, our 2015 Salty Dawg compatriots, and had a great time. Brenda is a fiber artist (my friends will appreciate that—her blog is www.argoknot.com).

February 13, Day 14. Yet another squally, windy night, but the anchor is holding fast. It’s Carnival, and around 4:00 pm a band on a truck—with great amplification—went back and forth through town, playing nonstop for three hours.

February 14, Valentines Day and Ash Wednesday—what a combination! At6:30 the drums start in town. We went into town to the boulangerie for WiFi, and the place was mobbed with people having lunch—the space is shared with a restaurant. We found one unused table, worked until our batteries died, then back to the boat. Tonight is the end of Carnival, with a battle of bands, a bonfire, and big crowds along the shore.

Thursday, February 15, Day 16 in Martinique. The wind has moderated a bit, and squalls are less frequent. On our morning trip to town we saw Carnival decorations and the stage being taken down, and the central square being swept. We first went to Snack Boubou to check out on the customs computer there, then back to Cherie Doudou for our WiFi fix. We had a farewell lunch there, which wasn’t worth the price, but we had sometimes used their WiFi for free. In the afternoon we took the motor off the dinghy; put the route to Marigot, St. Lucia, in the GPS; and mentally prepared for our voyage the next day. Bonnie and Earl McKenzie from Islesboro stopped by, and we invited them aboard for a good chat. They’ve been “doing” the Caribbean for 20 years, so they gave us some good advice about places and people. At 6:55 pm a fellow cruiser announced on channel 68 that the international space station could be seen overhead, and sure enough…we saw it! A great finale to our visit to Martinique.