We departed Charlestown just after 0730 hours and motored for 45 minutes, as there was no wind on the west side of Nevis. When we caught the wind, there was a little too much south in it, not what was forecast, so we were sailing but heading west of Monserrat. I pinched up when I could. Pete made an early lunch and just as we had our chicken and bacon wraps in hand, the wind veered 35 degrees, then dropped and we hove to. We were in the wind shadow of Rodonda, a big rocky hulk of an island, which has the profile of a turtle covered in barnacles, from this angle. The engine went on and we motor-sailed for a while, changing direction frequently as the little bit of wind shifted according to the topography of the island. From the southwest side, Rodonda was a triangle shaped slope at about 45 degrees; probably a difficult climb for an expert in that sport. The place looks generally inhospitable and I doubt that it has any permanent human inhabitants. We arrived in Little Bay, the only remaining port of entry on Monserrat, at 1515 hours and had to anchor well out, in 12 metres of water, as a large catamaran was anchored in the middle of the bay and taking up most of the space. We rushed around getting the dinghy lowered and the outboard on so that we could get to customs and immigration before they closed at 4pm. We located the SailClear computer and completed our arrival notification. Usually we do this in advance but we hadn't had much wifi on Nevis. Next stop was customs and immigration, then a walk over to port security, where we paid our dues and then back to customs. We were done bang on 4pm and they closed and locked the door behind us. All had gone very smoothly and the people were friendly. It probably helps to be last minute, as they have an incentive to get you processed so they can go home. A taxi driver asked us if we would like a trip to the volcano the following day and told us where to find him if we did. We had a really bad night on board, rolling heavily from side to side and constantly up and down to check that neither we or anyone else had dragged their anchor.
On Friday, we were up at first light. Pete went to look for water, successfully and then we departed Little Bay, as we could stand no more time rolling around. We sailed on the foresail down to a bay just north of Plymouth, going straight through the exclusion area and anchoring off the beach, under the Soufriere volcano, with a clear view of the destruction it caused to Plymouth and the surrounding area, back in 1997. The volcano has been active since 1995 and the exclusion zones out to sea are due to continuing volcanic activity. We had read in Navionics reviews that access to the exclusion zone and the anchorages in the area is risk based and we assessed the risk to be very low given we had been offered a trip up to the volcano. We could also see helicopters doing sightseeing tours around Soufriere and Plymouth. The anchorage was lovely with the sun out but felt quite eerie when the cloud came over and the wind blew. We were completely alone; no other boats, no people on the beach and derelict and battered buildings on shore around the debris field. There was a massive rift through the rock, as if the eruption had split the land apart. At midday we were startled by a very loud, electronic tune coming from the land; the early warning siren being tested. Later in the day, when the cloud cleared briefly from the top of Soufriere, we could see smoke or steam coming from a fissure in the top. We spent the day relaxing and swimming. When the sun had set and darkness came it was absolutely pitch black; no moon, no stars and no light pollution from anywhere. We spent a peaceful night, swell free.