Martinique in May 2006 and April 2007

We arrived in St. Pierre, Martinique on May 20, 2006 in the late afternoon, after a very pleasant sail from Iles des Saintes of Guadaloupe; and anchored at 14.44.643N 61.10.710W. You should have heard about St. Pierre in your elementary history classes. This is the location of Mt. Pellee, the volcano that erupted May 8, 1902, and killed about 30,000 people. Every resident of the town was killed except one cobbler who was in his basement and one convict who was in a prison cell. Funny, I always thought Mt. Pellee was in Hawaii and Bill thought it was in Italy. It is really in Martinique. There was a jazz festival on shore for the evening. We ate dinner in our cockpit and enjoyed the music.

The next day we wasted hours trying to find the right place to clear into Martinique. We finally gave up. But it was a good walk and I think we managed to see the entire town on foot. Every place we went to had a sign on the door telling us to go to another address (in French of course, which neither of us reads or speaks). We finally decided that we had done more than enough effort to do the proper thing and that we would just leave. That afternoon we sailed south to another anchorage at Grand Anse D/Arlet and anchored at 14.30.070N 61.05.338W. Getting the anchor to set in just the right spot was a challenge. The anchorage was very crowded and by the time we let out proper scope for the anchor rode we would be lying too close to some other boat. After the third attempt we managed to end up in a suitable position.

Then well after sunset a chartered catamaran motored up and anchored way too close to us. We were worried that they had set their anchor over the top of our anchor. And they were swinging way too close to us. But, hey, it's just a charter boat and not their boat so why should they care? They proceeded to party hearty most of the night. Massive quantities of rum were consumed; the empties were in evidence the next morning. We got up very early the next morning because we had a good distance to cover that day, and Bill immediately grabbed our air horn to give 5 quick blasts because that catamaran was floating out to sea!! It had dragged anchor and was almost out of the bay when Bill noticed it. The blasts of the air horn awakened a couple of people who had fallen asleep (passed out?) on the deck. Took them a minute to realize what was happening. Then they turned on the engine and motored back into the bay just as we were motoring out to sail to St. Lucia. They went right by us and never acknowledged us in any way. Wouldn't you think they would have at least said thanks!

Our next visit to Martinique occurred April 14, 2007, after a wonderful visit to the island of Dominica. Again we arrived at Martinique at St. Pierre. But this arrival was more eventful.

Porpoises were all over the place on the western side of Dominica this morning. We passed three pods headed north as we were headed south. One of the pods had at least fifty porpoises! But none of them showed any interest in playing with the bow of our boat. Finally we came across one pod of about twenty that were headed south. These were the large variety of porpoise. They played with our bow for a while. It is very difficult to catch these swift creatures with our camera, and they show up very distorted in the photos of them under the water. More experienced cruisers have told us that when they come to play at the bow then you should clap and whistle and make a lot of noise. The porpoises supposedly like the noise and act more playful. Kind of hard to clap your hands when you are holding a camera and I can’t whistle loudly enough, so I am not very good at getting the attention of porpoises.

We had a rollicking sail between Dominica and Martinique. Lots of wind; heeled over 30 degrees; and lots of fun. We were watching a catamaran and decided that neither of us could stand that motion. Our monohull was heeled over and that does become tiring when you do it all day; but our motion was forward to back, like a rocking horse. That catamaran sailed flat, of course; they can’t heel over because they have no ballasted keels. But that flat sailing sure had a lot of movement going on! The cat had the same forward to back motion that we did, like a rocking horse. But the cat also had a side to side movement at the same time. This caused the cat to make continuous figure-eights. That figure-eight movement is what makes both of us seasick. But, to each his own.

As soon as we got behind the northern tip of Martinique, the wind totally died. So we furled in the sails and started the engine. Within a minute the RPMs dropped from 1800 to only 800. And we had no forward motion. Bill checked the fuel filters and the engine and immediately diagnosed that we had a fouled prop. There was no wind in that area but there was a lot of motion and current, and I did not want him to dive on the prop there. Without wind for sails and without engine for forward thrust, our boat started rolling so much it was hard to stand up. Just did not seem like a good idea to get beneath a rolling boat with a sharp knife unless you had no other choice.

We put the sails back out to try to limp to the nearest anchorage, St. Pierre. But there was not enough wind to get any forward motion from the sails. The current was moving us closer to land faster than the meager wind could propel our boat! This could quickly become a dangerous situation. Looked like we were headed broadside into the rocks on the shore. That shore was getting way too close for comfort!!

The dinghy was on the stern davits and the outboard was mounted on the life rail for this passage. This is the normal routine for any passage. So we very quickly lowered the dinghy and managed to get the outboard down onto the stern of the dinghy. That mizzen boom and an electric winch make quick work of this chore. We have done it so many times now that it has become a routine that doesn’t even require discussion as to who does what; each of us knows what to do automatically.

Then Bill moved the dinghy and tied it to the beam of BeBe on the port side and I dealt with the sails. We cleated both the bow and stern of the dinghy tightly against BeBe. That 15 horsepower Mercury outboard was able to propel our 27 ton boat all the way to St. Pierre, about 5 miles away. At first we could only go 2 knots boat speed, but the speed slowly increased; and finally we were moving along at almost 4 knots. Still, it took hours to get to St. Pierre. Good thing that we had left Prince Rupert Bay, Dominica, at 5:50 a.m. today. So we had daylight to spare for this mishap.

The wind finally picked up as we entered the bay at St. Pierre. I put the mainsail back out and this time it did noticeably help increase boat speed. As we got closer to the anchorage area of the bay I furled in the mainsail and Bill reduced the power on the outboard. BeBe slowed down perfectly as we were now headed directly into 10 knots wind. We were able to maneuver BeBe to what looked like the best spot to anchor; Bill put the outboard into idle; and I waited for BeBe to come to a stop. I dropped the anchor – have to love having the anchor controls right at the helm! The 10 knots of wind was not sufficient to cause us to back down on the anchor to set it well, so Bill put the outboard into reverse and that did the trick. The guy on the sailboat anchored off our starboard stern was most interested in watching what we were doing.

Bill grabbed a snorkel mask and jumped into the water to check out the prop. It was plain as day that the prop was fouled by a big mess of fishing net. So we pulled out all Bill’s diving gear and got him kitted up. I helped do his buddy check and he had everything is the proper place, but something was wrong with the BCD; it was getting too much air and Bill could not seem to get the air to release properly. But he jumped in anyway. His dive knife wasn’t sharp enough to cut through the mess of net, so I gave him one of my Wustoff serrated kitchen knives. That one was sharp enough to cut through the tangle of net. Unfortunately, Bill lost his dive knife. He had put it back into the scabbard clipped to the leg of his dive suit, but apparently it did not click into place correctly because it was gone when he surfaced. Oh well, he needs a better one anyway.

That BCD must be replaced soon. It kept filling with air and would not release air correctly, so Bill had a very tough time getting down and staying down. He had this same problem the last time he did a dive on the boat. Now I am really glad that he didn’t try this dive repair out on that rolling point in open water. He could have been hit in the head by a 27 ton boat rolling over him – with him unable to get down below the boat and stay down. Much better than he did this dive with that malfunctioning BCD here in a totally calm anchorage.

After Bill surfaced and showered and rinsed all his gear then we started the engine and pulled the anchor. We only had out anchor chain for scope of 3:1 and we would never spend the night with scope ratio that low. We moved farther forward (practically on the beach because this harbor is very, very deep with a small “shelf” near the beach where you can set an anchor). We again set the anchor and put out 7:1 scope this time. Time to relax for the evening. Thank goodness we had leftover pork tenderloin, rice and vegetables so I didn’t have to really cook dinner tonight. We were both really tired after this day.

So we have been cruising on this boat now for almost a full year, and have now experienced our first fouled prop. I'm sure there are many more to come.

During the next couple of weeks we visited Fort du France, Trois Ilets (birthplace of Napolean's wife Josephine), St. Anne's and Marin. The most interesting place to me was H.M.S. Diamond Rock.

Here is a little history lesson, courtesy of our sailing guide: The Carib Indians called Martinique “Madinina” --- Island of Flowers. Martinique is the largest of the Windward Islands of the West Indies. Apart from a few short spells under the British, Martinique has been French since it was colonized; and it feels very much part of France. Almost no one speaks English. As mentioned earlier the Empress Josephine was born here and grew up on a 200-acre, 150-slave estate near Trois Ilets.

In 1804 Napoleon was master of Europe but the British still had naval supremacy and largely controlled Caribbean waters. However, ships were scarce and someone noticed that Diamond Rock on the southwestern tip of Martinique was just about where the British would station another ship if they had one. So they commissioned the rock as a ship. It was quite a feat to climb this steep, barren, snake-infested rock and to equip it with cannons and supplies for a full crew of men. But the British succeeded and for about 18 months the H.M.S. Diamond Rock was a highly unpleasant surprise for unsuspecting ships sailing into Martinique. Napoleon was furious. After all, this was the birthplace of his beloved Josephine. He ordered Admiral Villeneuve to free the rock and to also destroy Admiral Horatio Nelson while they were in the vicinity. Villeneuve slipped out under the British blockade in France and headed straight for Martinique. Nelson followed in hot pursuit; however, poor information led him to Trinidad. So Villeneuve was able to liberate the rock. He wisely returned to France, keeping well clear of Nelson.

Napoleon was not pleased with Villeneuve because the British fleet was left in control of the high seas, so he ordered Villeneuve to report in disgrace. Villeneuve preferred death to dishonor, so he put his ill-prepared fleet to sea to fight Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar. Ironically, Villeneuve survived the battle (even though he wished to die at this point), and Nelson died.

We sailed by Diamond Rock enroute to St. Anne's and Marin. Those poor British sailors have our sympathy. That must have been a horrendous job to get cannons up to the top of that rock, and to be stationed there for 18 months before getting killed or captured by the French. The British Admiralty were such sticklers for rigid rules and tradition that I would like to know who came up with this idea of commissioning a rock as a ship. And, how did he get the Admiralty to go along with this most unusual idea.

Antigua & Nelson's Dockyard in March 2007

Antigua is not our favorite place for sailing. There are too many spots that are only 2.7 meters deep and our draft is 2.05 meters. You can be kicking along in 10 meters of water and suddenly it is 2.7 meters! I do not like that at all and even Bill gets a bit of pucker affect when the depth gauge suddenly reads zero. Our B&G depth gauge reads in meters, not feet; and is set to display actual depth under keel, not the depth from water surface. So when it reads zero, it does mean that there is something less than one meter water under our keel. When that happens it is very disconcerting! So we sailed out away from the island to get into somewhat safer water depths. (Note: Before we got to the San Blas Islands in Panama Bill set our Raymarine autopilot display at the helm to have the option of displaying the depth in feet. I like this so much better and use it any time we get below 10 meters depth.)

We sailed to Antigua in March 2007 after leaving St. Barths. We cleared in at Jolly Harbour and that took most of a day. Then we moved to Five Bays and anchored there a few days before sailing south and east to English Harbour. The seas on the southern side of the island are quite rough. Just not a good sailing area. We entered English Harbour and looked around for about 30 seconds before deciding that it was way too crowded for our comfort level. Looked like a number of boats were on permanent moorings or permanent anchors. So we turned right back out and backtracked over to the much larger Falmouth Harbour just west of English Harbour.

We found the perfect anchoring spot just inside the second green marker on the channel to the right side of Falmouth Harbour. Anchoring this far out means a longer dinghy ride to shore, but that is fine with us. In fact, it is even preferred by us. Would rather have a longer ride to shore than to be anchored up closer and more crowded.

Bill stood on the bow and put a buoy over our anchor while I lowered the anchor using the controls at the helm. This buoy serves two purposes: it floats over our anchor and marks where the anchor is actually set, and it also can act as a trip line in case we encounter problems raising the anchor when it is time to leave. Pierre on S/V Lady Annabelle told us how his anchor was fouled in Falmouth Harbour by old chain when he was here in January. Pierre had to hire a diver at a cost of $100 USD to get his anchor clear. So, putting a trip line is a good idea. Who knows how much crap is at the bottom of this harbor. After all, the British Navy was using this harbor as a hurricane hole as far back as the 1700s. No telling what kind of stuff has been abandoned underwater over the past 300 years.


March 19, 2007 Monday
Today we visited the Nelson Dockyard. We left the dinghy at the Cataraman Club Marina dinghy dock and were waiting on the main road for a bus when a very nice local man offered us a ride to the Dockyard. He said the buses don’t run regularly and we might have had to wait an hour or more. So he saved us the price of a private taxi. Much later in the day we found out that if we leave the dinghy at the Antigua Yacht Club Marina then it is just a very short walk over to English Harbor and the Dockyard. There are three little marinas here in Falmouth Harbour, two of which cater to the mega-yachts. There are some huge sailboats and motor yachts hereat the moment.

Which brings up something that has become an annoyance to me. These red anchor lights that the large sailboats are using are just wrong, wrong, wrong. Lights on all vessels are regulated internationally by COLREGS. Absolutely nothing in COLREGS states that a vessel can use an all-round red as an anchor light; it is supposed to be an all-round white light. There are other reasons that any vessel 20 meters or longer is required to also have an all-round red light (or two), but the anchor light is always supposed to be white. There are obvious reasons for the need for uniformity in lighting. For example, there are many harbors that have red lights placed on land that vessels entering harbors at night must line up with in order to follow the correct entry channel. This is true for English Harbour. There are three red range lights going up the mountainside that an entering vessel lines up with at they approach the very tricky entrance to that harbor. Well, when there are large boats anchored in the harbor displaying these silly red anchor lights then it becomes impossible to find the correct three red lights to ensure safe entry. These red anchor lights are dangerous and this practice needs to be stopped before it gains any further in popularity. Some people have told me that the red lights are a requirement for any mast taller than 100 feet for aviation safety. I'm not buying that theory because the FAA and internation aviation safety requirements for lighting have been around for decades. And these red anchor lights are a new fad. I am certain of this because we have seen some large vessels now sporting red anchor lights that we have seen many times in past years using white anchor lights; for example, the Sea Cloud--the yacht built for Emily Merriweather Post in the 1930s. Sea Cloud is now using a red anchor light on each of her 3 masts; and we know for a fact that in past years those anchor lights were all white.

Nelson’s Dockyard was interesting to us, especially since we have been reading Patrick O’Brian’s 21 book series about Capt Jack Aubrey during that period of British Naval history. (I finally read final book and will miss this series; wish it continued further but the author died.) The British began to use English Harbour as a hurricane haven as far back as 1671. They began to use it as a Naval Dockyard in 1725. Captain Nelson was made temporary Commander of the Leeward Islands Station for the period of 1784-1787, but the Dockyard was actually established in 1743 by Commodore Charles Knowles and it remained in use until the Royal Navy closed it in 1889. In 1951 the Friends of English Harbour formed a mission to reconstruct the Dockyard and it reopened in 1961. Now it is part of the Antigua and Barbuda National Parks Authority. This is the only Georgian Naval Dockyard in the world today.

Sunsail has a charter base located right in the Dockyard. They only had three boats docked there, so it is an exceptionally tiny charter base, but in a very unique location. And an expensive location. Sales tax is 15% here in Antigua, and that is in addition to the duty already added into the price of everything. There were a couple of restaurants in the Dockyard. We found that the least expensive place for lunch was the bakery located behind the museum. So we bought a couple of burgers and drinks at the bakery and sat at a park bench and enjoyed the beautiful setting under an enormous ancient tree amongst the old stone buildings.

We walked around the quay and admired the gorgeous large sailboats moored there, each one with a crew dutifully detailing those lovely boats. Watched one 50-ft sailboat trying to extricate his fouled anchor when he unmoored from the quay. Guess he didn’t want to spend the $100 to have the diver retrieve his fouled anchor. He turned circles while letting out chain and taking in chain, and it appeared that eventually he did manage to get the anchor free.

We took a taxi up the hill to the Interpretation Center. The guidebook recommended the multi-media video about the history of Antigua that is shown there. The guidebook also says that it would be a 15 minute walk up the hill to the Interpretation Center. Yeah; right! That taxi was worth every cent of his fee. If we had attempted this walk then we would have turned around after going less than 25% of the distance. The video presentation was okay but the real reason to go up there is the view. It does give a different perspective of English Harbour and Falmouth Harbour, as well as Indian Creek and Mamoa Bay and some of the eastern side of Antigua.

We were curious as to what the depth of the entrance of English Harbour was back in the 1700s, but the tour guide did not have that information. The entrance depth is 3 ½ - 4 ½ meters, and those old frigates and men-of-wars could not have negotiated that shallow. The harbor entrance was guarded by Fort Berkeley on the western side and Fort Charlotte on the eastern side. Fort Charlotte was destroyed in 1843 in an earthquake and it appears the submerged ruins of Fort Charlotte and silting resulting from storms over the past several centuries have filled in the harbor entrance. It must have been deeper 300 years ago or those old ships could never have entered this harbor.

We did not visit any more of Antigua during this trip. We found the Customs and Immigration officials very unfriendly and did not feel welcome. That attitude needs to change or it will eventually have a negative effect on their tourism business. And it appears that about the only thing this island has going for it is tourism, so they better change their attitudes and nuture that critical segment of their economy. After Antigua we sailed to Guadaloupe. We encounted many humpback whales during the sail to Guadaloupe. A fantastic experience when a few were very close to us.

Bequia in May 2006 and April 2007

Leaving St. Lucia it was a great beam reach and then broad reach sail until we reached the south end of St. Vincent; then we were close hauled, right on the bottom of the red, tight as we could get it until we reached Bequia. Winds ranged from 22 kts to 30 kts all day; seas 7-ft to 10-ft. Great day of sailing, at last. We arrived in Port Elizabeth on May 23, 2006, and anchored at
13.00.505N 61.14.355W . We had traveled 500 NM since leaving the BVI on May 12, with lots of island hopping.

When we arrived in Bequia, we were approached by a boat boy right at the harbor entrance wanting to "help" us with a mooring. We told him we were going to anchor. Then we tried hailing Daffodil's on the VHF to get a mooring ball in their area. We plan to have them deliver fuel to our boat tomorrow, so we wanted to be nearby. Daffodil's said they were sending someone out to assist us with the mooring. The mooring balls here do not have any type of pennant attached. Someone comes out in a small boat and takes your line and ties it off on the bottom side of the mooring ball. Anyway, some guy shows up in a dinghy and tells us that there was a mistake and that Daffodil's is full and doesn't have a mooring available for us. He told us to hail African on VHF channel 68 and get on a mooring on the other side of the harbor.

Bill spent several minutes trying to hail the guy called African. Several people answered and someone said that Wild Larry would be out to help us with the mooring at African's mooring ball field.

While all that was going on, another guy came up way too close to the side of the boat and tried to talk to me while Bill was on the radio. I told him to leave us alone right now. He then sped up and went in front of our boat, turned crosswise to block our progress, and came to a stop. I started yelling at him and turning the boat trying to avoid hitting him. Then he came back near the cockpit and tried talking again. I yelled at the top of my voice for him to "get the f**k away from our boat or we were going to be hit him." He looked really pissed off, but he finally left. Those of you reading this, if you know me, then you know just how loud I can yell when really pissed off. This happened while Bill was on the radio, so everyone in the anchorage heard me yelling on the radio. Maybe now the boat boys will stay away from our boat.

Wild Larry showed up in a bright pink "go-fast" boat and helped Bill tie off on a mooring ball. Bill just didn't feel right about the whole process; so when he saw a man with African on the side of his boat helping another boat moor near us, Bill called him over to our boat. Sure enough, we had been hijacked; the ball we were moored on did not belong to African. So we moved over to one of African's moorings. We are much happier because this ball looks much better maintained.

We then went ashore to the Whaleboner Bar for a cold drink, and a short walk around the beach bars. This is again an island that we have not visited in 20 years. It has changed quite a bit, but still the same lovely place that we remember.












The Whaleboner Bar has a huge whale rib bone forming the bar counter. The bar stools are made from whale vertabrae. The entrance from the beach is framed by 2 whale ribs. This bar has been here for decades upon decades. They are not making these type items from whales anymore, so relax.


Bequia has a strong whaling history. The men would go out in these tiny boats that they built locally. They would gather round and spear a whale and then tow it back to the island for slaughter. They used every bit of the whale; it was not over-kill like the Japanese still do. Bequia still holds a license that would allow them to kill up to 4 whales per year, but the skills are being lost as the older generation ages. They have not gone out to hunt a whale in a couple of years. Their long whaling history might now be finished.



Enjoyed the traditional lobster pizza at Mac’s on our first night here. Lobster season ended April 31, so the local restaurants were trying to use up all the lobsters in their live tanks. They are allowed to sell those, but they cannot harvest any more from the sea until October. Anyway, our pizza was thickly covered in lobster. It was delicious; we could not finish it all and hated to throw away that last piece. When we returned to Bequia in 2007, lobster pizza was no longer on the menu at Mac's. That was the end of an era. Lobster has now been so over-fished throughout the Caribbean that Mac's can no longer serve their famous lobster pizzas. At least we have our fond memories of this delicacy.

We next visited Bequia on April 24, 2007; and again anchored in Admiralty Bay. This time we sailed down the eastern (windward) side of St. Vincent on our passage from St. Lucia to Bequia. The waves were 10 feet and pleasant enough for most of the trip, but we got too close to land near the southeastern tip of St. Vincent and it was shallow. The waves rolling in off the Atlantic were large but comfortable in the deep water, but the waves were building one upon another in the shallower water and it became unpleasant. That lasted about 2 hours and then we were back to pleasant sailing. So we learned a lesson: keep at least one mile to two miles offshore if sailing on the eastern side of St. Vincent. At only one-half mile offshore you will experience nasty sailing conditions.

I trailed two fishing lines all day yesterday (54 miles) and never had a bite. Today I trailed two fishing lines most of the day (about 50 miles) without a bite. And then we had two bites within a minute! I went below to the head and when I came back into the cockpit there was Bill with my fishing line all over the place. Seems there had been a strike by something large on the fishing line being trailed from the port side. The entire lure was gone and the hand reel had actually exploded into tiny pieces from the pressure of the fishing line wrapped around it. All that remained of that gear was the bungee cord and the fishing line and the metal wire that used to hold the lure! And that was my brand new favorite lure!

Less than a minute later there was a strike on the fishing line being trailed on the starboard side. This time the line snapped right at the hand reel. The line was 100 pound test strength, so something quite large must have hit that lure. So, two fishing lures and 150 meters of fishing line, leaders, etc.--- all gone within a minute. And no fish to show for it! Bad enough to lose the fishing gear but I really wish we could have been able to at least see the fish that took my gear.

When we arrived in Bequia we found Dennis and Allayne on AUDREY PAIGE, and Al and Joan on BREAK AND RUN. We are anchored between their two boats. Dennis and Allayne are friends from the marina in Trinidad last summer. We knew that Dennis and Allayne were in Bequia several weeks ago and hoped that they would still be here. We really enjoy their company. Great folks. We met Al and Joan in Guadeloupe when we shared dinner. Another guy, Richard (and Beth) on SLOW DANCING came by and introduced himself because he recognized our SSCA burgee and he is also a SSCA member. All these people plan to stay here in Bequia for a week or two or more, so hopefully we will be seeing them all several times.

FYI, we are now in the country of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. That is a rather long country name, so it is usually abbreviated to SVG. We opted not to stop at St. Vincent because there is too much thievery there. So our first stop in SVG is Bequia, which we truly love. Luckily, it is also a clearance port so we were not forced to stop in St. Vincent. Bequia has a special charm. All the islands that we will be visiting in the next few weeks belong to SVG – there are quite a few of them and we will be visiting only those that we prefer. We will skip a few of the islands that hold no special interest to us for whatever reason. We will clear out of this island chain country when we reach Union Island.

Bill had a bit of sticker shock when we visited the local vegetable market. I bought 4 small tomatoes, 2 medium cucumbers, and 3 carrots for a total cost $30 EC. Bill’s face was had an incredulous expression! That converts to $11.11 USD. Food is a bit pricey here on Bequia.

On Wednesday afternoon we took a taxi tour of Bequia with people from 2 other cruising boats. Our tour guide was a local man named Curtis. Curtis was born on the island and is about 60 years old. He said that his heritage is French, Scottish and Portuguese. His accent definitely had a Scottish tinge. According to our sailing guide, there were a lot of Scots brought to this island when it was briefly under British control. Neither of us remembers how or why the Portuguese came to this island. It was good to talk with a local resident for several hours; learn so much more than from the guide books.

Bequia has a strong whaling history. A whaling man named Wallace moved from the USA to Bequia during the 1800s and taught the locals how to build small whaleboats; they have been catching whales ever since. The IWC has granted Bequia the right to harvest 4 whales per year, but many years they don’t get any at all. Everything is still done is the traditional manner, no modern ships or conveniences. Curtis was lamenting that all the excitement for the islanders has gone out of whaling and he doesn’t think it will continue much longer. There are very few people still alive who know how to do this work. Plus, the whaling season lasts only February through April; so it cannot be a full-time job for anyone. BTW, 60% of the men on Bequia are unemployed. They and their families subsist pretty much on what they can garner from the sea and grow on their land.

In the very old days people would light fires on the island when they spotted whales from the hills. But this made the location of the whales known to the whaling ships from the US that were nearby, so the islanders eventually changed to using mirrors to signal whale sightings. The larger the mirror, the better. People would go outside and move their bedroom mirrors to glint in the sun to let other islanders and the whalers in the little whaleboats around Bequia know that whales had been spotted. They would move several steps while the glinting mirror to correspond to the whales’ movements---right, left, up or down to correspond with east, west, north or south---to guide the little Bequian whalers to find the whales. You could see mirrors glinting all over the island when whales were spotted. Eventually people got VHF radios and they changed to this modern method of communicating the locations of the whales. But Green Peace came down and would thwart the local whalers and caused dangerous encounters (remember, these local islanders only have very small boats with harpoons). Then they changed to cell phones; the method of whale notification used today.

The whalers harpoon a whale from these tiny whaleboats, and haul it back by rowing to a nearby tiny island where the whale is butchered. They used to butcher the whales at Petit Nevis, but now the whale processing is performed at Semplers Cay in Friendship Bay. Every resident on Bequia gets a share of each whale, but not everyone eats whale meat any more. Curtis said that he had not eaten whale meat since he was about 25 years old because he just does not feel comfortable about it. He thinks that the whaling should stop.

When we first visited Bequia while we were on a Windjammer cruise back in the mid-1980s, we bought some scrimshaw pieces. Scrimshaw is banned today. True scrimshaw was carved from the teeth of the sperm whales. Sperm whales are never killed any more; they only kill humpback whales. Humpback whales are baleen whales and do not teeth, so no more scrimshaw. (Okay, to our sons Trey and Aaron: do you have any idea where your scrimshaw necklaces are today? I still have mine.)

Our tour also included a visit to a pottery place located in an old sugar mill at Spring plantation. We enjoyed seeing the old building and the methods of production and the pottery was quite nice, but not something we need on a boat. Thought about buying some as gifts for relatives but storing it and hauling it back home would create problems. So, sorry everyone; no unique pottery gifts from us.

We wanted to go see Moonhole, but Curtis would not bring us out there. The road to Moonhole is terrible. Plus, you must make prior arrangements with a certain couple if you want to visit there. Moonhole is an isolated community founded by the late American architect Tom Johnson. The houses are really different. The houses grow out of the rocks without straight lines or right angles. They have huge arches. There normally is no glass in the windows, and there is no electricity. But the breeze is constant on that point of the island so the temperatures are comfortable. The houses have fantastic views and very nice patios. It is a very private place and is a special kind of vacation home for the right people. The original house was built under a natural arch known as “Moonhole.” It was abandoned when a huge boulder fell from the ceiling and crushed the empty bed. Jim and Sheena Johnson have a bar there and offer limited tours by prior arrangement only. Moonhole is on the hill overlooking directly onto the water but is not accessible from the water because it is too rough and rocky out there. I have no idea who supposedly frequents this bar since there is no way to get out there.

From Bequia this time we will go to Mustique, island of the ultra-rich and celebreties.

St. Lucia visted May 2006 and April 2007

We weighed anchor and departed D’Arlet, Martinique, at 0545 on May 22, 2006; and arrived in Soufriere at 12:30. Were able to sail the entire way; first time this trip that we have been able to sail an entire passage on this trip south this spring. We were close-hauled about 2/3 of the trip and then on a beam reach for last 1/3. We picked up a mooring at 13.51.384N 61.04.047W .

When we awoke, Bill blasted our air horn 3 series of 5 blasts to awaken the people on a Moorings 4200 catamaran. The cat was named “Bambi.” They had lost their anchor holding and were quickly moving out to sea. Good thing we woke up so early. That boat had arrived fairly late last night and they were partying hard. They had anchored next to us and Bill was further worried about our anchor; he was sure that they had anchored directly over our anchor rode. At any rate, their anchor didn’t hold and they were floating free. We were able to pull our anchor and we left without incident.

The trip down was a great sail. One freighter passed in front of us way too close for my comfort level; and we passed a boat towing a barge way behind it. That was also too close for my comfort level. Bill thinks my depth perception isn’t very good. I do,not like anything big and/or fast to be anywhere near our boat or our course. Don't know if I will ever relax about this.

At Soufriere, we moored behind another Amel Super Maramu, named Trade Winds from Road Harbour in the BVI. When we went in to clear customs, we were hit up by a local man telling us that for a small fee he would watch our dinghy. Bill asked him why we needed him to watch our dinghy. He said because a few days ago some kids had put water into the gas tank of a tourist dinghy; but for a small fee he would watch and make sure no one puts water into our gas tank. We asked the customs official what the normal amount would be to pay the local guy to not put water in our gas tank, and he just laughed. Said that was a new one; he hadn’t heard that story before. When we later returned to our dinghy, the customs officer was down at the dock with a policeman talking to the locals gathered around the dock area. Apparently, the officials don’t want the locals harassing the tourists.

We spent a very rolly night at Soufriere and were out of there way before first light to sail to Bequia in St. Vincent and the Grenedines. St. Lucia is gorgeous but it has never been one of my favorite places.

April 2007 found us again making a brief stop in St. Lucia. This time we picked up a mooring at
13.49.181N 061.04.000W which afforded a spectacular view of the Pitons on the southwestern tip of St. Lucia. Last year we moored in Soufriere Bay (just on the other side of Petite Piton) near the bat cave, and it was horribly rolly. So we wanted to try a different spot this time. It is positively gorgeous at this mooring field between the Pitons. The park ranger said that this mooring can also become very rolly if a swell comes from the south, but it is very comfortable and calm tonight. Would recommend this mooring area to anyone planning a stop in St. Lucia.

The sail from Martinique to St. Lucia this time was a calm beam reach. Just lovely. Only exciting thing that happened was that a small airplane buzzed us. Bill got a kick out of that. The plane approached from our starboard quarter, crossed our stern, buzzed really close and then banked off our port side and turned north toward Martinique. We couldn’t figure out what that was all about. But later we heard a VHF radio pan-pan-pan call about a missing sailboat on our same route, so maybe the French coast guard was looking for the missing boat and checked us out for that reason.

I saw a large creature that we assume was a porpoise. It was very dark colored and about 16 feet long. It swam perpendicular to our boat and dove right beneath us. About 5 minutes later I saw what looked like the same creature (same size and same color) well off our starboard beam. Porpoises normally travel in pods so maybe it wasn’t a porpoise. Bill thought it might be some sort of small whale. Neither of us saw the head clearly enough to identify it (or them).

St. Martin, Jan 24 to March 9, 2007

During our mad dash south in 2006 we had stopped at St. Martin for only a few hours. To be correct, we stopped at Sint Maarten; because we anchored on the Dutch side. St. Martin is one of those unusual islands that is home to 2 countries, like Haiti and Dominican Republic on the one island. St. Martin is the French side and Sint Maarten is the Dutch side. Each has its advantages and special characteristics, but we prefer the French side. There is an enormous lagoon shared by both French and Dutch. If you have a shallow draft boat you can enter the lagoon on the French side. But if your boat draft is greater than 6 feet then you must enter on the Dutch side. There are draw bridges and getting in and out can be delayed, so plan your egress carefully.

Most cruisers enjoy being anchored in the lagoon. Since we aren't like most cruisers; we, of course, do not like being anchored inside the lagoon. Sure, it is large and calm and has easy access to all the businesses; but it is also nasty looking water. I am sure all those boats are not using their holding tanks and that sewage is being discharged directly into that shallow lagoon. And they run their watermakers in there. Uh-uh. Not for us. We like the French side, anchored in the bay. It can be a bit rolly but is worth the occasional slight discomfort. We anchored at Marigot and could take our dinghy into the lagoon to go anywhere when we needed to shop or when we wanted a Mexican food fix at the restaurant/bar on the lagoon edge on the Dutch side. The French and Dutch don't care where you go on the island or by dinghy and no immigration controls are effected. But they do care if you bring your big boat from one side to the other, and you must officially clear out of one country and into the other if you move your yacht. The Dutch charge a minimal fee for being anchored inside the lagoon. The French also now charge a fee for being anchored at Marigot, although this is a new fee and was not in effect when we last visted in early 2007.

Shortly after Theo, Teresa, Lauren and Kristin departed from visiting us in the Virgin Islands, we sailed straight to Marigot. Whereas our passage in May 2006 was the worst passage ever, this time it was delightful. We intended to stay in St. Martin only a few weeks; but that turned into almost 2 months. Bill's brother, John Rouse, came to visit. Our friend Glenn Martin came to visit. And our friends Donna and Bruce Rill came to visit. Not all of them at the same time, thank goodness. That would have really been crowded accomodations on our boat. We enjoyed seeing them all and each is welcome to visit us again anywhere, anytime.

We ran into probably a dozen cruisers that we had met in Grenada and Trinidad the previous summer. A very nice surprise was meeting up with Pierre and Ellen on S/V Lady Annabelle. We had met them in Trinidad and did not know they were headed up this way. Donna and Bruce were visiting when we met up with Pierre and Ellen and the 6 of us went to dinner in Grand Case a couple of times.

Mardi Gras was celebrated while we were in St. Martin. This is quite a celebration in Marigot each year. They have elaborate costumes and parade through the streets. It was fun. First time we had been to Mardi Gras celebrations in St. Martin.

The Heineken Regatta was held while John was visiting us. That was also the first time we saw a Heineken Regatta. We didn't care a whit about the races, but the street party afterward in Marigot was lots of fun. We enjoyed watching a heavily tattooed guy we dubbed The Paella Dude. He cooked up enormous woks of paella on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant. Quite a character.

During the week leading up to the Heineken Regatta we happened to see The Maltese Falcon several times. Once it was anchored off the Sint Marteen and once it was sailing south down beside the island. That is one horribly ugly boat under sail. It is faux-square-sail-rigged with electrically controlled "square" sails that furl into the masts; not the yard arms but the masts. The sails are flat when in use and look for all the world like a bunch of window shades instead of sails. Can you tell I really don't like this boat? We have since seen The Maltese Falcon several times in French Polynesia. This is a photo taken in Rangiroa in the Tuamotu in French Polynesia in June 2008. The inset at the top left of this photo shows the people standing near the stern; so that gives you an idea of the true size of this yacht. And I still think it is an ugly boat, for all its electronic marvels. BTW, it is for sale if you are interested.

OTOH, S/V Mirabella IV is an enormous gorgeous sailing yacht. Mirabella IV was anchored in the outer fringes of Marigot Baie when we departed from St. Martin on March 9, 2007. I snapped a photo as we sailed past the stern. There was a woman sitting on the stern steps, which helped give perspective as to the true size of this yacht.












We thoroughly enjoyed our time in St. Martin and it was difficult to force ourselves to move on. It is one of those places where we could stay a long time before getting tired of it. Definitely going back there when we complete our circumnavigation.