When the French government established a penal colony on the Maroni River in French Guiana in the mid-Nineteenth Century, the authorities referred to the impenetrable mangrove forest and emerald jungle which dominates the flora of the area as the "Green Hell." If a prisoner escaped from the prison into the Green Hell he quickly realized that the iron bars and block walls of his former home at the Camp de la Transportation, was actually a kinder and gentler habitat compared to the hostile environment he quickly found himself in. The dense mass of submerged mangrove roots and razor sharp thorns that line the maze of fast-running tidal creeks, which serve as the only lines of communication in this impenetrable tangle of plant life, are a natural barrier to escape. Each day is dominated by oppressive tropical heat and humidity, yet the jungle is actually chilly at night - it saps the strength right out of a man. One of the wettest places on Planet Earth, the daily downpour of rain is said to resemble strings of spaghetti suspended between the forest canopy and the heavens. The eight foot deep tide inundates the mangrove forest, much of which is actually below sea level, ebbing and flowing twice every day. Moisture from the sky above and the sea below keeps everything wet, all the time. The odor of insidious decay overlays the jungle like a cloak of rich organic compost. As the land restricts an escapee's movements to a painful crawl, the fauna of the Green Hell watch and wait to compete to consume him. Back in Sainte-Laurent his jailers had been the rough French military guards, but now the prowling jaguar, huge slithering anaconda, stealthy black caiman, voracious piranha, fer-de-lance pit vipers lying in ambush, coral snakes more deadly than the feared cobra, and biting, stinging, insects by the endless trillions had him in their food chain. As the song goes, "They only come out at night!" There were people living in this harsh environment outside the settlement of the grim penal colony; several Amerindian tribes, and Maroon Bushmen villages - descendents of escaped black African slaves - lived in the Green Hell. But their disposition towards the Europeans who came from across the sea and took their land, or their former slave-masters, was not inclined towards kindness, but rather the elimination of an unwanted competitor for scarce resources. Every movement, every thought, and every moment a man found himself in the Green Hell was consumed by the instinct of desperate survival. To make matters worse, the French officials would hire the Amerindians to track down the few convicts who tried to escape, and return them, or their bodies, to the prison they would never leave. The keen-nosed tracking dogs made evasion nigh on to impossible, and the Indians' poison arrows seldom missed their mark. The inmates at the Camp de la Transportation, made infamous by the convicted murderer Henri Charrière (aka Papillon), and the eventually acquitted political prisoner Captain Alfred Dreyfus, were cross-threaded with the law of man, but it is the law of the jungle which rules this land beyond the forest wall surrounding the isolated village of Sainte-Laurent du Maroni. Today, in modern French Guiana, the reality of that Green Hell is much the same.

These were our thoughts as we sat well-fed, secure and comfortable in the cockpit of Spaceship Tiger Lilly, our safe haven in a hostile wilderness. We were enjoying the cool night breeze wafting down the Crique Lamentin; anchored on a bucolic creek deep in the Green Hell, about three miles off the River Maroni. We have the wonder of modern electronic charting and a GPS aboard Tiger Lilly to show us the way out, and the fierce Amerindian and wary Maroon bush people have been tamed and cajoled through their dependency on the French welfare system - but little else has changed with the flora and fauna of this place for hundreds of years - man's mark on the Guyane's hundreds of thousands of acres of tropical rain forest is but a scratch. An unintended positive impact of French social engineering is that the indigenous people do not have to work to survive, the State will take care of them; and there is a lot less destruction of the environment as the pressure to make a living is reduced. Earlier that same day Lilly had seen a scarlet coral snake swimming across the creek, heading for a dinner of tasty frogs in the thorn thicket on the point just to our south. That afternoon our French friends Jean-Francois and Anick, who shared the anchorage with Tiger Lilly aboard their aluminum catamaran, S/V Enora 3, very carefully removed two large piranha from their fishing net - not a good swimming creek, this one. At sunset, the howler monkeys loudly proclaimed just whose jungle we were in, as we watched a large colorful toucan fly across the creek to his high sleeping perch. The setting sun had ushered in the cool evening, and we were grateful for respite from the day's heat, and we welcomed a time of relaxed companionship, and quiet contemplation. But suddenly our reverie is broken - the quiet hush of the black moonless night is pierced by an overwhelming splintering, tearing, powerful crash, as one of the huge trees that tower over the jungle, and create its endless emerald canopy, crashes through the surrounding bush to earth - for no apparent reason. A stately giant of the forest has succumbed to the insidious forces of time, decay, and infestation by the real rulers of the jungle - her multitude of insects; and then finally, on this quiet night, in mere seconds, the force of gravity reclaims the tree's decades of stored energy in a cataclysm of sound. Nothing is wasted in the deceivingly sparse energy economy of the tropical forest, and the cadaver of this huge tree will be quickly recycled for the benefit of all. The death of this giant has not come quietly, and the striking interruption of the seemingly peaceful night brings thoughts of our own mortality - will it come creeping or crashing?

FRENCH GUIANA CRUISING NOTES:

River Maroni - As we approached the River Maroni from the north, we encountered several Guyanese fishing boats, each with unlit multiple one-thousand foot long nets deployed; a pre-dawn arrival at the sea buoy could be very challenging. Once at the sea buoy, we followed the excellent French buoyage system regardless of what the charts showed, and we had no problems navigating the river. Follow the buoys on the way in - both the Navionics and the C-MAP electronic charts are off - a situation we encountered throughout the northeastern coast of South America. There are more buoys on the Maroni than are shown on the charts, and the channel has been dredged for small ships - so this is an easy river to navigate. The green buoys with even numbering are kept to port as we entered the River Maroni; but none of the buoys are lit, and we encountered fishing nets, and fish trap buoys inside the buoyed channel; again, this is not a place to try to navigate during the hours of darkness. The tidal currents run in excess of 2 knots on the river (the tide range is typically 6 to 8 feet at Sainte-Laurent du Maroni), so a low powered vessel such as a cruising sailboat with a small auxiliary diesel, may be better off taking an anchorage once inside Pointe Des Hattes at the mouth of the river and wait for a daylight flood tide; which is exactly what we did. During our stay in French Guiana, we found that we could anchor just about anywhere on the River Maroni and be comfortable wind and chop wise - and we did not encounter any security problems out on the river, or in any of the isolated anchorages on the creeks. After we reached the wreck of the Edith Cavell, just off the Town Landing at Sainte-Laurent, we cranked in an offset to our chart plotter as we passed close by the bow of the wreck (there is 30 feet right of water off the bow at low water), and this offset made our electronic charts more closely conform to the banks and the bends of the river - but not nearly as close to the shoals and channel.

Sainte-Laurent du Maroni - We really enjoyed Sainte-Laurent du Maroni, and we highly recommend this delightful little town to cruisers sailing the northeast coast of South America - what's not to like about HOT FRESH FRENCH BAGUETTES every morning? This former French Penal Colony was designed with three distinct areas: Le Camp de la Transportation (the prison), Le Village (where the local people lived and worked), and Le Quartier Officiel (the prison administrative offices and the residential area of the French Penal Officials and prison guards). The town's main draw is the Camp de la Transportation, and you can get an English speaking guide for a tour of the prison by prior arrangements with the Office de Tourisme at the Town Landing - which is where you buy your 5 Euro tour ticket. There is a town tram tour that departs from the Town Landing; but it is not a very good tour (and it is only in French) - we call it "LE LAME TRAIN." Save your money for croissants and coffee at Le Toucan. We enjoyed the 70 year-old Le Toucan sidewalk cafe and restaurant on Boulevard du General de Gaulle (across from the hospital) - it was our rendezvous ashore, our hang-out, and a place to see and be seen. The Tourism Office at the Town Landing has a great little free booklet entitled "Discover Sainte-Laurent du Maroni" with both French and English captions, and we are sure that walking the town with this booklet in-hand will be much more rewarding than LE LAME TRAIN. In fact, we enjoyed many aspects of this charming little town. French Guiana is an Overseas Department of France, and being here is in many ways like being in France, and the European Union - the taxpayers of which have spent a LOT of money on infrastructure and social programs throughout the area. The streets are well paved and well lit, and the tough Gendarmerie do a good job of maintaining law and order. The former Penal Colony's Le Quartier Officiel is called "Little Paris" for its restored construction and interesting classical architecture. We had not seen buildings so well-crafted anywhere in the Caribbean or South America. As we walked through this area, it was easy to visualize being back in France, and walking along the quaint back streets of the capital on a hot summer's day 100 years ago - which of course was the French engineers intent - and it was all built by prison labor. There is good shopping in the centrally located Town Market, and many stores around Le Village section sell European quality goods - but like Europe, it is expensive for a limited-budget cruiser. Most of the shops close-down after noon, and do not reopen until early evening - even the town dogs use the heat of the afternoon to get in a healthful nap. (Lilly sez: GET OUT OF THAT BUNK Tom-Tom, and get to work on our boat projects!) The Super U out on Rue J. Symphorien (on the newly paved highway to Sainte-Jean, thank you EU) is the best supermarket we saw south of Trinidad; and they accepted our American VISA credit card. There are excellent medical and dental facilities available in Sainte-Laurent, at modest cost. We were treated by Dr. Gerard Pascal (painless dentistry by a French schooner-sailor) at his excellent dental clinic located on Avenue Felix Eboue (the main street in town) at Rue Montravel, across from the bank. On our first day ashore, as we walked across the square in front of the Town Market, the very first person Lilly talked to - and she talks to almost EVERYONE (actually, accosted is perhaps a more accurate description) - turned out to be our new friend Dr. Gerard. It seems that Tom-Tom the Sailor Man had developed an abscessed tooth during the short offshore passage down from Suriname; and our first order of business was to get him to a dentist. When we asked this distinguished-looking man-on-the-street, who spoke perfect English, where we could find a dentist, he announced that HE was a dentist, and pointed to his clinic just a block down the street. He then took us to his clinic, which was closed for the afternoon, opened the door, and insisted that Tom get in the chair and open his mouth - and the fix was in! It was our new friend, and fellow sailor, Dr. Gerard who reminded us that there is no such thing as a coincidence. We also did some preventative medical treatment and Rx renewal at the medical office around the back of the Super U supermarket building, next to the pharmacy. For any sort of trauma, nurse Anick, aboard SV Enora 3 is the person to contact. She is the senior operating room nurse at the excellent local hospital. World-class bluewater-cruisers Jeff and Anick have postponed their cruising temporarily while Anick works at the hospital and they replenish their cruising kitty. In fact, we recommend that on the way into Sainte-Laurent du Maroni it would be wise to stop by S/V Enora 3 (anchorage listed below) and talk with Jeff and Anick to get the lay of the land - they speak good English, and you will love their company. The BFCAG Bank across from Doc Pascal's dental clinic on Avenue Felix Eboue has 2 outdoor ATM's, and this was where we made our cash draws of Euros (.75 Euro = one US Dollar). The French Postal System is reliable, affordable, and above all, trusted - we successfully sent a package all the way to Lilly's Peace Corps nephew Brian in Indonesia. The Post Office is in the Official Quarter, just below the tall communications tower you can see from the Town Landing towards the northeast. We came ashore with our iPad2 to check our email, and download the news, but our interrogatives concerning Wi-Fi were met with blank stares. That is, until we remembered that the French don't call it Wi-Fi, and they had no idea what we were trying to say - they call it WEE-FEE! Once we got the technical jargon correct, complimentary Internet access was graciously offered to us at Hotel La Tentiaire (just buy a drink) on Avenue Franklin Roosevelt, and also at Hotel Star on Rue Thiers next to the athletic field. If you stop by the Hotel Star, please tell the owners Lilian and Chris that Tiger Lilly said hello. There is a nice clean community swimming pool located along the riverfront just north of the dramatic convict statue at the Town Landing; the cost is 2 Euro per session (AM and PM), and ladies are required to wear a swimming cap. Be prepared to thoroughly enjoy the pleasant town of Sainte-Laurent du Maroni.

Yacht Services
Yacht Hardware - Although there were many general hardware stores around town, we did not find any store that sold yacht supplies.

Fuel - There is a LOT of traffic back-and-forth across the River Maroni between Suriname and French Guiana - and it did not appear that there was much of an attempt at Customs or Immigration enforcement between the cross-border towns of Albina, Suriname and Sainte-Laurent du Maroni, French Guiana. In fact, most of the people in Sainte-Laurent go to Albina to shop and fill up on boat fuel because it is less expensive in Suriname. We took jerry jugs across the river with Jeff's Amerindian friend Jean-Marie in his big motorized canoe, and bought diesel fuel just before we departed for Brazil. (It did not seem prudent to flaunt the situation by anchoring Tiger Lilly right off the fuel dock at Albina, so we asked Jean-Marie to take us over.) In August 2013 diesel fuel in Sainte-Laurent up at the service station on Rue J. Symphorien cost 1.56 Euro per liter, and dieselfuel in Albina at the Texaco dock on the river cost 1.1 Euro per liter - and it is much easier to load jerry jugs at the Albina fuel dock.
Potable Water - We do not know where one can get safe water for drinking, except bottled water in the stores. The non-European locals drink water right from the tap, but none of the French people we met stationed in French Guiana would do so. While we were there in July and August, we were able to easily keep Tiger Lilly's potable water tanks topped-off with our rain-water deck-collection system.

Cooking Gaz - We were told that it is not legal to have a propane tank refilled in French Guiana (Doesn't make sense - but that is what they told us. EU restriction, Gaz company monopoly - who knows the reason?) We filled our propane tanks with one of the returnable cooking gaz cylinders available all around town - we use a European adapter fitting on the end of a pigtail which has a North American "probe" style nozzle on the other end. We decant from their tank to ours by hanging the full tank up-side-down from the boom above our tank sitting on deck overnight - and VWA-LAA! In it goes! The French cooking gaz (butane / propane mix that works fine in our Force 10 cooking stove) costs 21 Euro for a 12 liter returnable cylinder, and the refundable cylinder deposit was an additional 46 Euro - just make sure you get a receipt for the deposit, or they will not refund your cash (this policy keeps down cylinder theft). They have both blue and red tanks, of the same size and configuration, available; it took several inquiries and lots of sign language with the Chinese grocery store owner to find out that it is the same product, supplied by two different companies.

Laundry - There is a nice, clean, Laundromat located on Rue J. Symphorien between the service station and the Super U grocery store. With an abundant supply of rain water, we hand-washed our clothes aboard Tiger Lilly. (See our 17 January 2012 Blog post entitled "Holy Toledo There is a Lot of Water Out Here!" for a description of laundry day aboard Tiger Lilly)

Town Landing - We met an Italian single-handed cruiser in Suriname, who was passing out "Marina-Saint Laurent du Maroni" business cards (but has requested that we not use his name). He stated to us that he has plans to build a floating-dock marina at the Sainte-Laurent Town Landing. When Tom asked him who was financing the project, he was quite obtuse in his response - finally stating that he could finance the entire project personally, but preferred to have others partner up with him. When we arrived in Sainte-Laurent du Maroni we found the Town Landing to be a challenging place to land our dinghy, with 8 foot tides and a low gradient beach with many rocks and submerged logs - a floating dock would be a great addition to Sainte-Laurent for visiting cruisers. The good news is that our unlocked dinghy was never bothered - and good thing too - there is not much to lock a dinghy to at this landing. The fellow promoting the project talks like his "marina" is a real thing, but as of August 2013 when we were there the only thing that physically existed was a name on a business card. In an effort to market the project he has organized an annual cruising rally to the Guianas, and if they have another one next year that will be two in a row. We shall see how the interest runs amongst the Caribbean cruisers who are not known for attempting anything more challenging than beam reaches in boy's weather.
(Lilly sez: OH MY GOSH Tom-Tom, if I can sail down here, ANY of those Coco-Nutters should be able to survive a little up-wind sailing!)
We were told by local folks in-the-know that there is going to have to be a lot more cruisers calling at Sainte-Laurent for enough municipal interest to be generated for an expensive European Union approved facility to be built here (remember, this is part of France, and European Union construction codes and environmental regulations are strictly enforced) - but only time will tell if this project ever becomes a reality. We think it is a great idea. At a minimum we would like to see the wrecked community floating dock at Sainte-Laurent's Town Landing replaced; but in the mean time be prepared for a challenging dingy landing experience at the Sainte-Laurent Town Landing. We think that this destination is worth working through a little adversity - as are most interesting places we find while cruising off the beaten track. We anchored just south of the wreck Edith Cavell (with trees growing out of her holds, she looks like an island), just outside the shoal which runs parallel to the river bank. There is a lot of current in this anchorage, and it can be rough with wind against tide in the afternoon; but in the aggregate, it seemed to be the best anchorage available considering security, access to town, ambiance, and convenience.

On November 30th, 1924, S/S Edith Cavell ran ashore en route from Marselle to Fort de France with general cargo. The Edith Cavell was owned by H.E. Moss and Company, built in 1898 by Bartram and Sons, displaced 3,475 tons, her dimensions were 350 feet long x 46.5 feet on the beam x hull depth of 16.2ft, and she was fitted with a 298 nominal HP triple expansion steam engine. That is not much power for her tonnage, and considering the current on this river it would be easy to come to grief with that combination - which apparently she did.

Anchorages
Entrance / Departure / Staging anchorage 5-43.784N 053-57.363W (Just in the lee of Pointe Des Hattes / Pointe Francaise, with 16 feet at low tide, and 2-plus knots of ebb current.)

Customs and Immigration 5-29.559N 054-02.329W (Off the ferry landing and a floating small boat dock - this anchorage provides easy access via a pontoon to Immigration and Customs. The Customs Officer told us it is not necessary to clear French Customs if we were not bringing in alcohol or tobacco products for sale. Access to this government facility closes at 1800 - and this is not a good area to be walking around after dark. It is an easy walk right up the road to the Super U grocery store from this floating dock for provisioning at departure.)

Town Landing 5-30.470N 054-01.986W (We anchored southwest of the wreck of the Edith Cavell, and outside the shoal - this was our main anchorage at Sainte-Laurent. The tide really rips through here at max ebb. There is a nice park ashore, the tourist office and the Camp de la Transportation are here, but this is a difficult landing for the dinghy.)
Fish Market / Chinese Village 5-30.035N 054-02.119W (Local cruisers Jeff and Annick told us that this is not a safe anchorage for visiting cruisers. When we were anchored here, and while we were ashore during the day, someone took a small plastic fuel jug off the deck, and tried to take the small dinghy outboard motor - but thankfully the motor was chained to the stern rail. This was the first security mishap, as minor as it was, that we had experienced in the previous 4 months of cruising the northeast coast of South America.)

Paradise Amerindian Village 5-30.821N 054-00.965W (Experienced French cruisers Jean-Francois - called Jeff by most everyone - and his wife Nurse Annick, anchor their catamaran SV Enora 3 here. They are good folks to know, are enjoyable company, and they speak English. This anchorage provides access to an interesting walk-about ashore through the Indian community of Paradise Village, and a 30 minute walk into Sainte-Laurent.)

Crique Aux Baffles aka Crique Lamentin 5-33.544N 053-58.900W (Easy entrance, stay to the left or north at the creek entrance on the river, we carried 15-40 ft of water at low tide all the way up the creek; it is a very nice place to spend a few quiet days and experience the jungle.)

French Guiana Attractions - There are many other interesting things to do, and places to go, in French Guiana: The European Space Centre is located at the town of Kourou, on the Kourou River, and can be reached by yacht. The anchorage, and the town at Kourou are unremarkable, and perhaps a rental car from Saint-Laurent is a good alternative to visit the Space Centre; The Iles du Salut (Ile Royale, Ile Sainte-Joseph, Ile du Diable) were part of the penal colony (infamous Devil's Island) and are located some eight miles off the coast at the mouth of the River Kourou. We were told that yachts were welcome to call there after they checked-out of Immigration at Sainte-Laurent, as long as they did not go up the river to Kourou. There are no Customs or Immigration officials at the Iles du Salut, just a contingent of the French Foreign Legion providing security for the European Space Centre's offshore range. There are mini vans (called buses) going to the capital of Cayenne each day (about a 2 1/2 hour drive) but the cost is pretty high. Alternatives for visiting Cayenne, which we were told does not have a suitable harbour for visiting yachts, is to check popular commuter ride-sharing Internet sites, or to rent a car in Sainte-Laurent. Le Camp de la Relegation at Sainte-Jean, previously a labor camp for banished prisoners, is about seven miles further up-stream from the Edith Cavell Town Landing anchorage. Our charts did not extend that far up the River, but Jeff and Annick (S/V Enora 3) can give you instructions to navigate the river to Sainte-Jean. It seems to us, having previously cruised both the River Mahury (south of Cayenne) and the River Kourou (north of Cayenne), that the best place to take a yacht in French Guiana is Sainte-Laurent du Maroni.

We were involved in one minor international incident while we were in French Guiana. The good Doctor Gerard Pascal, a two-fisted schooner-man who single-hands his Goelette Anthea (46 feet on deck, and constructed of the most exquisite wooden maritime craftsmanship) in the Mediterranean from the South of France, invited us to his apartment overlooking a sweeping bend of the River Maroni for a dinner of French Cuisine. Dr. Gerard shares the apartment with his colleague, longtime friend, and business partner, Dr. Daniel. Now, these kind men of letters are both really distinguished French Surgeons of Dentistry, highly educated men of influence and means (in France a Dentist qualifies first as a Medical Doctor); they are, and rightly so, very proud of their Gallic Culture. As a hors d'oeuvre, they very proudly produced a pate de foie gras for their American yachtie visitors. Now, one must appreciate that these polished men wanted their dinner guests (Tom, an ex Navy salvage officer and deep sea diver - whose German mother used to send him to school with goose liver and onion sandwiches, and Lilly, an ex jock who typically blows her nose on the street by pinching off the opposite nostril with her thumb, and forcibly ejecting the contents of her nasal passage with a guttural HAAAWK!) to fully appreciate the gastronomical delicacy that was put before them. First, they went to great efforts to explain just how the goose, who apparently dedicated his entire life to the liver we were about to consume, was force-fed a specially prepared mash to produce a fatty liver. The PETA folks would NOT appreciate this procedure, especially the rubber tube part, but when it comes to matters of the palate, our French cousins certainly do not let goose rights or political correctness get in the way of good taste. Then the good Doctors elucidated on the difficulties of living and eating properly on the tropical frontier and cultural wasteland in which they choose to practice dentistry. A really high quality pate de foie gras, suitable for entertaining international visitors such as ourselves, was difficult in the extreme to obtain. It seems that it is unthinkable to subject this delicate substance to the heat of a ship's hold - it just doesn't "travel well" as they say. Who in their right mind would even consider eating the common pate consumed by the Great Unwashed Public, and sold in the local Super U? It seems that in the interest of good living, and the retention of French Culture in the face of capitalistic international trade agreements, one of them (un-named, of course) had concealed this particular can of the highest quality French pate on his person to slip it by the Agricultural Inspectors and Gendarmerie who patrol the international gates of the Aeroport de Cayenne for heinous infractions of EU animal-rights regulations just such as this. Unfortunately, and this part is hard to believe - BUT WE ARE NOT MAKING THIS UP - the common way to package this expensive and hard-to-find delicacy is, by what appears to the untrained eye of an American fast-food consumer to be, a common tin can. However, we can only imagine the special handling procedures, proprietary interior coatings, and certificate of Region of Origin required by the Republic of France to bring such a valuable commodity safely to market and to the discriminating table of Citizen Connoisseur. Now, for all their polish and letters, and of course it goes without saying, dignity and panache, these two characters (Doctors of Medicine and Surgical Dentistry, and products of refined domesticity, both) were living in a sparsely furnished bachelor pad in a land overseas, and working long, hard, hours in their clinic. Although the locals spoke the Mother Tongue of France, of a sort, and the citizens of this Overseas Directorate were of course granted all the rights of a Frenchman - one must realize that the local men of the bush were Frenchmen by the letter of the law, but certainly not the spirit of being truly French to the core - not at all like the good Doctors before us. Unfortunately, our host Frenchmen were, so to speak, living in a self-imposed isolated river of uncouthness; as their lithe and elegant wives, cool cellars full of fine wines, and imposing chateaus remained on the Continent. So, who could blame them when they unthinkingly took the valuable contents of this can of the very finest French pate de foie gras (which good breeding and French Naval Regulations call for presentation on only the very finest William Dalton Cherbourg lead crystal) and up-ended the contents onto a plain white Corelle flat dinner plate with an unceremonious plop? Now, who among us has not similarly opened a can (tin to our British cousins) and seen the familiar mark of the can's strengthening rings, in relief, on the otherwise smooth side of the gelled contents - perhaps in the loving act of feeding Fido, the trusted and revered family pet? While all this was going on, Madam Tiger Lilly's attention span had been predictably diverted by something before her on the screen of our iPad2: which was no doubt related to either some pimply-faced teenage boy (personally known to her acquaintance), loudly running a motorcycle around a dusty motocross track at life-threatening speed with decals of Monster Energy drink plastered all over his person and his motor-bike, and a can of Skoal in his back-pocket; or perhaps she was absolutely enthralled by the story of a rap music maven who had been dating a famous Hollywood movie star, and who had cheated on her (that scumbag) with an albino trans-sexual member of a European royal family, and was photographed by the paparazzi topless (the transvestite, that is) on a secluded beach resort on a private island at an undisclosed location in the Caribbean - germane matters of import, to be sure. At any rate, when called to dinner, Lilly cast the iPad aside and plopped herself down at the table, hungry as a bear - without the benefit of the good Doctors preamble relating to the delicacy before us. She then inelegantly carved off a HUGE gob of the unknown stuff (to her), smeared it on a cracker in a single barbaric swipe, and woofed it down in a blurred motion, difficult for anything other than stop-motion digital photography to capture - as she is want to do. The faintest inclination of her upper lip belied her otherwise benign outward expression, and gave an indication of some level of inward sensory revulsion; and then she forced a side-ways sort of slip-swallow, while staring at a Gagon print of a bare-breasted Polynesian princess on the far side of the room, and a critical look came on her face - that would be Lilly's face, the impressionistically depicted Princess seemed quite unconcerned, as far as I could tell. Both of our hosts sensed a setback, and winced concurrently, but refrained from immediate comment. Tom-Tom the Sailor Man unobtrusively tried to reach her with a KICK under the table, and climb into a hole and disappear at the same time - knowing all too well what was coming. After a pregnant pause, one of the Doctors lit the fuse and asked, "So, Lilly, how did you like that?" She shifted her gaze to the partially-consumed cylinder of very high quality French pate de foie gras on the plate before her, gave a sniff, noticed the relief of the can's strengthening ribs in the otherwise smooth-sided brownish, grayish, purplish, cylinder of nondescript gelled meat-like substance, thought for 1.326 microseconds, opened her mouth, and blurted out, "It tastes like DOG FOOD to me!"
I have absolutely no way of understanding what happened next - but these two refined gentlemen simultaneously burst out laughing and guffawing so hard that fine French wine was spurting from their nostrils in veritable streams of breeding and class. And that is pretty much the way our distinguished French Cuisine dinner party went for the remainder of the evening. Great food, interesting discussions, and a FUN time was had by all!

That is Tiger Lilly's take on French Guiana's Sainte-Laurent du Maroni. We hope you will get down here someday and see what a delightful little town this is - perhaps our favorite spot in the Guianas; and if someone offers you a bit of pate de foie gras on a cracker - think of Tiger Lilly, and ENJOY! We have posted several pictures of our visit to French Guiana in the PHOTO GALLERY on this blog. If you click on the PHOTO GALLERY hyperlink in the upper right corner of this page, and follow the logic tree: Main / Ports of Call / South America / French Guiana, you will soon be walking the streets of Sainte-Laurent du Maroni with the crew of Tiger Lilly. See you there!