Guadeloupe is shaped like a big butterfly. Where the body of the butterfly would be found is a salt water channel, called the Riviere Salee. This means that Guadeloupe is actually a combination of two islands, Grand Terre to the East, and Basse Terre to the West. Ironically, Basse (lower) Terre is actually much higher, with craggy peaks and volcanic activity. Grand Terre is a virtual pancake in comparison. For the educational part of this, there are also Desirade, Marie-Galant and the group of islands called the Saints that make up the rest of this French Department.
The Riviere Salee is navigable the length of the waterway, all 2.5 or so miles of it. Up until a couple of years ago, they had opening bridges so that sailboats could traverse the length of the waterway, and have an alternate route between the south and the north of the island. The bridges were closed for major work, and somebody in their wisdom figured it wasn’t worth fixing them for the handful of boats that passed through. Considering that the openings were in the dark hours of the early morning, it wasn’t like sailors were going to see anything as they motored up, and going around, while appreciably longer, isn’t that bad as there is lots to see and a couple of very nice anchorages.
We’ve wanted to explore this area since we discovered that Pointe-a-Pitre really isn’t such an armpit, after all. Since Ken’s punky back isn’t allowing long walks or bus rides, we figured that a dinghy ride might be an interesting diversion. A big advantage to dinghy excursions is that you can bring what you want, and not have to carry it in a backpack! A picnic lunch, a jerry can of gas (just in case), camera, soft drinks, sandals (again, just in case)… and all of it tucked around the dinghy. We were ready to go.
It’s funny how we have passed under numerous bridges when we went through the ICW, three times, and it really didn’t phase us, but pass under an active bridge in the dinghy and we both were a little creeped out. I suppose the lack of any covering between us and “whatever” contributed to my uneasiness, for Ken it was the noise. Regardless, we pressed on. There are only two bridges for vehicular traffic, and one older bridge dedicated to bicycle and foot traffic.
Once we got past the first, southern, bridge, everything calmed right down. We were out of the fetch of the bay, and protected from the wind. We were surrounded by mangroves. Egrets, in ones and twos, or in groups as big as seven birds, swooped along to their next destination. We saw a couple of pelicans gliding above the water. A couple of boats passed by in the channel, but otherwise it was us and the mangroves. Our noses told us when we passed close to a dump site, and we saw a small airplane come in for a landing at the main airport. The end of the runway is to the east of the channel.
Continuing north, we passed under the other bridge, which is larger and more modern. It still creeped us out. Besides the bridges and the bit of airport runway we could see, there wasn’t anything else but mangroves. Well, there was the occasional pink and white sign stating that this was part of the Guadeloupe National Park, and some navigation buoys, but that was it. To the west we could see the craggy peaks of Basse Terre; Grand Terre was hidden behind the trees.
We came out at the northern end, where if we had continued on for about 5 more miles we could have been out in the open ocean again. The area where the head of the butterfly would be found is quite shoally, with a couple of islands tucked in here and there. This is where the difference in the two islands really struck us. We could see the majestic mornes of Basse Terre, with their heads in their rainforest clouds, and to the East, nothing but flat land, created an eon or two before the sister island. There were clouds there, too, but they were typical harbingers of the possibility of rain.
We turned around and ventured back into the Riviere. We tried one or two side channels to consider a lunch stop, but ended up tying up to a navigation buoy. Chorizo, cheese, crackers and home baked cookies, plus soft drinks, were enjoyed in the open air in the dinghy. Of course, that is when it decided to rain a little bit on us. It didn’t dampen our spirits, and I still managed to top up the fuel tank in the dinghy; much easier in the calm of the channel than the potential bumpiness of the anchorage.
We are glad we took the time to wander up there. If anyone has kayaks and loves to explore, I would recommend bringing the boat down from the north end and enjoy the very protected channels.