27 Martinique
27 March 2017
We were nicely anchored in Fort de France and just settling down to our first evening in Martinique, dining al fresco with a nice bottle of red, when there was the sound of a boat engine directly behind us. This boat continued right alongside us and I had to fend him off as he dropped his anchor right on Morven's quarter. The lady of the ship was sitting on the foredeck but did nothing to alert the skipper of their proximity to our boat. The French do seem to have this knack of anchoring in very close quarters, and don't appear to consider the implications of swinging room with a wind change; but then, in our experience, the same can also be said of the Italians. He seemed happy with his placement though and promptly switched off his engine and navigation lights and went ashore with his good lady. At least he was behind us so wouldn't drag over our anchor.
Day dawned and off we went to check in with the authorities once more. We found the little office with rather a lively lady, dressed in national colours, and looking like she was ready to party. We weren't sure we had got the right place as it was also the fuel and water dock within a small boat- and service yard. This lady showed us to the computer and said all that was necessary was to fill in the form and print it, sign it and then we were 'free to go'. How different from our previous experiences in France. We've often been boarded by customs officials before even entering many French harbours, and have even had the boat searched on one occasion, so what a refreshing surprise this informal and friendly reception was, especially when she then informed us that it was carnival week; so that was why she was in 'fancy dress'. Interestingly Carnival (Mardi Gras) was not due to start for another week so she really was getting in the mood early.
The new bilge pump was next on the list; the shop had it in stock just as they had promised. Things were going very well. Back to the boat where the new pump was installed directly, tested, working, job done. All we needed now was to find a good bakery, which didn't prove too difficult as there are many, all selling tasty French products, although I wasn't sure I should be chewing on very crusty baguettes with my new front teeth so didn't attack it with such gusto as I might have done; Ian had no worries, and tucked into everything he could.
Once the formalities were over we turned our thoughts to exploring a bit of the island. On checking the weather forecasts, as is prudent if the boat is going to be left at anchor for any length of time, there were a few anomalies, and the meteo models certainly weren't in agreement so we decided to sit tight for a day or two and content ourselves with sightseeing within the city of Fort de France. The wind was forecast to become relatively light but erratic and could blow from any direction, quite a change from the regular easterly trade winds that should prevail at this time of year. No problem we thought, as we were anchored in good shelter, and if the wind should blow into the bay it was not forecast to blow at much more than 5 knots.
Next morning the wind completely died, before swinging round to the West (this is practically unheard of in this part of the world which is why all the 'safe' harbours are on the west coast of the islands) and increasing quite rapidly. In an instant all the yachts in the anchorage had swung round and were now facing directly out into the open sea from where a considerable swell began rolling in. Thus we found ourselves on a lee shore with the very solid stone walls of the fort right behind us. Not liking the look of it we decided to bail out before conditions got any worse and to head across the Rade-de-Fort-de-France to a small bay that we'd identified as looking much more sheltered. By the time we were ready to go the seas were bouncing us around like a trampoline. The anchor was coming up just fine, the only problem was that our French 'neighbour (well his boat) was now in front of us and lying over our anchor, and he was nowhere to be seen, as he hadn't been back to his boat for 3 days. This necessitated some rather nifty shifts between forward and reverse gear to avoid running into his stern while trying to drag our anchor out of the seabed beneath him. Thankfully this was achieved without collision and we were soon bouncing our way out into the deep water channel, and with a scrap of headsail set flew across the 4 miles to Les Trois Ilets, a beautifully sheltered area located behind a large promontory where the seas were flat calm, and not a sign of the westerly wind which had just blown us across the bay. Peace reigned; we were well dug in, and over the space of the afternoon we saw every other boat from Fort de France come into our shelter; we were even all anchored in the same formation with the exception of our neighbour - we guessed his boat was the only one left to weather what turned into quite a storm.
The wind eventually returned to its usual easterly quarter, but meanwhile we spent 3 days anchored close to the mangroves with a view over the golf course, enjoying the delights of this very small village, complete with fruit and veg market and a great boulangerie which also serves good coffee at very reasonable prices. Everyone in the village was in good humour as they were making ready for their own celebrations for carnival; apparently each village or town does its own thing, but the main event is definitely in the capital; so we therefore sailed back across the channel to see what Mardi Gras had in store.
'Carnaval' was programmed for 5 days and nights, and was an incredibly vibrant spectacle. Definitely the biggest show we've seen in any of the Caribbean islands, and it's all really for the local population. Everyone seems to come alive, don a costume and just enjoy partying in the streets. The local 'orchestras' are bands which primarily consist of drums in every shape and size imaginable, with the odd conch shell thrown in. The carnival plays out a satirical story over the period beginning with the inauguration of 'King' Vaval, moving through his marriage, and unfortunately ending with his sacrifice which involves actually setting fire to the huge statue, almost the height of a two storey building, that is paraded around on a cart for 5 days. All quite exciting stuff. Everyone dresses up, and follows the procession around the city, dancing and singing to the music, and grabbing food and drink from the many street vendors when needed. Each day has a different theme so it's essential to have a different outfit for each day. The local dress shops all seem to be displaying nothing but carnival attire, and this years' must have was a tutu of any colour, or every colour, with brightly coloured fishnet stockings, and that was just for the men. So for 5 days and nights the city was closed and everyone was out to party into the early hours. A magnificent show, but by the time Vaval was sacrificed I think even the most energetic revellers were relieved. I know my eardrums needed some relaxation.
We finally got to see some of the north of Martinique, in particular the small town of St Pierre which was originally the capital. This town lies at the foot of Mont Pelee, the great volcano of Martinique which erupted on the 8th of May 1902, and completely obliterated the town and every one of its inhabitants (almost 30,000 of them) bar one - a prisoner by the name of Cyparis, who was locked in a tiny stone cell. Fortunately for him his window faced away from the lava flow and so somehow he survived. Not sure how he ever got out of his cell if everyone else was extinguished, but he obviously managed it as he apparently joined a travelling circus as an exhibit! The town was eventually rebuilt, and today it is a fairly typical little French town complete with market, library and a few nice restaurants. It is also the home to the Depaz Rhum distillery. Obviously we had to go and see this, and sample some of the delights which were freely available, but at 10 in the morning it was a little early to imbibe too many varieties of rhum - especially as they offer it neat. Still it gave us a taste, and we bought the obligatory bottle to add to our collection from the other islands. There is a good museum here which tells the story with original footage. We tried twice to go in but it was closed, with no indication of when it might open again.
Well, we couldn't wait around for ever. After enjoying all the good French food and wine we needed some exercise so next stop Dominica and the hiking trails. Another early start along with a few other boats. Once again a reef in the main and genoa. The wind was a little stronger than anticipated and we were fighting the steering and the sea for a while; with a northerly swell and easterly wind driven waves the seas were somewhat confused . Eventually we reefed the headsail heavily and balanced the boat perfectly. We engaged the help of the Hydrovane to steer, and we sat and enjoyed the view. Once again we were taking waves over the bow, and the sails were salt-sodden by the time we arrived in Roseau, capital of Dominca.
We were none too dry ourselves, but the final straw was that with all the water over the bow, and the angle of heel being considerable, the anchor locker hadn't drained as it should, so we had a quantity of water now in the forecabin, in particular under my half of the bed. No real harm done, but we need to find a solution to this if we're to avoid mouldy cushions. We have an idea or two, but it will depend if we can find any of the materials needed to seal the inspection hatch on this very undeveloped island. If only we'd have known the problem existed before leaving Martinique, where parts and materials are more widely available.