22 December 2013 | Deshaies, Guadeloupe, 16’18.48N 61’47.84W – Portsmouth, Dominica 15’34.81N 61’27.73W via Pigeon Island, Guadeloupe
They say that the USA is the land of milk and honey and every street is lined with gold. It maybe possible to make a fortune in this country but real treasure cannot be found there. In Dominica the streets are not lined with milk and honey, but instead they groan under the weight of real treasure in the form of Grapefruits, Cocoa and every other exotic fruit under the sun. The only problem was that we first had to get to this land of Grapefruit and Cocoa.
The curse of Guadeloupe had been lessened in the previous days but the island didn’t want to easily give up its grip on us. As seemed to be usual for Deshaies the wind was howling and we slipped past the legendary raceboat Leopard. They seemed pretty impressed as our plucky little boat ventured out as they sheltered in the bay.
We stopped by Pigeon Island to stock up on the joys of French food and were then off south to Dominica. We setup for the fully windy wavy and stormy weather that was forecast. For the first time in 15000 miles the storm halyard was deployed and the storm jib readied. Fiona uttered the fatal words before we left ‘I think it’ll be miserable, but I’m sure we’ll make it.’
After 50 miles and 10 hours we entered Portsmouth harbour sporting better tans and a nice dry cockpit. If this was a miserable sail then we are really looking forward to a glamour one.
Dominica was everything that we remembered and more. Everyone here is so happy and full of life it is as if they have taken their lead from Obilex and had fallen into a big cauldron of happy potion at birth. The happiness had also rubbed off on some of the cruisers and we were lucky enough to have come into a bay where a fellow OCC member and amazingly Sadler34 owner was anchored.
Ever since we foraged for scallops and muscles in Scotland we’ve wanted to be educated in what we can find on the land and here we found some expertise. We were introduced to everything the island grows and how easy it is to simply walk along the road, find food, medicinal fruits, berries and leaves and even find a natural form of Viagra in case we went a bit ‘floppy’.
Along with walking through the forest and being educated on what we could and more importantly could not pick, we also ventured down into a ‘cold volcano’ and over to the iron ore deposits in the far east of the island. The cold volcano didn’t ooze the usual magma, but instead oozed the stinkiest gasses that make Iain’s bottom burps seem like perfume and the iron ore deposits created one of the few areas on the island where plants don’t grow rampantly.
Even with our new found foraging skills we still couldn’t be self sufficient but on this island of plenty it certainly helps. For everything we can’t find there is the market and the market here is something else.
Like all the best markets it starts before the sun rises and finishes not long afterwards. The early start didn’t remove any of the vibrancy that you would expect in an island like this. The sellers touted their locally produced wares to a backdrop of an 8 piece drumming band and outside the street vendors rocked to the vibes of Christmas reggae. Not even the machete wielding coconut seller was safe from the beat as his slashes chopped down in time to the music.
We’re now playing a waiting game as Serafina pushes their way north to join us in time for Christmas and we hope that the anchorage will fill up with friends that we haven’t yet met.
Goodbye windy Guadeloupe and Mike Slade’s Leopard.
You’ve got the right idea. Just chilling on rocks.
Whoa. It must be windy. That’s the storm jib deployed.
Sailing in the Caribbean doesn’t get any better. Err yes it does.
Sunsets in Portsmouth. Happy days.
And a few rainbows to boot.
There are some pretty big fish being landed in Dominica.
Ruffian happily at anchor somewhere that’s not howlingly windy.
You’d be amazed at what can be produced in a little ‘shack’.
Martin Providence, a fountain of knowledge.
Let’s hope that Iain hasn’t done bad.
Can you spot Ruffian? Prince Rupert bay from a high.
The earth was farting below our feet on the cold volcano.
Dominos, it’s just a game of counting but was way beyond Iain.
Another island. Another beer.
The windward side of Dominica. Not a place you want to anchor.
Some of Dominica’s soil is so rich nothing can grow.
Just what you expect to find in the middle of the jungle. An old rum distillery.