In which Elsie rejoins us after her trip back to Scotland and we cruise slowly through the Leeward Islands.
At the start of December, Ruby Tuesday was at Jolly Harbour,
Antigua, with Lionel, Mads and Lotta (who had helped me bring her down from
Bermuda) aboard; Elsie was in Scotland, having decided against sailing that
leg.
The past couple of days had been
calm but, on the 1
st, we had a forecast for a sailing wind so we
rose at dawn, picked up anchor at 07:05 and headed south.
Overnight, a large swell had built up from
the west and there were breakers over a shallow, 2.5 metre, patch just west of
our track.
The forecast was for the wind
to be just north of east, 8 knots, by 08:00 veering and increasing through the
day.
The strength was correct but it started
ESE so, expecting it to veer, we sailed close hauled.
Of course, it went the other way, so we ended
up on
a broad reach but we did make good
progress and arrived Deshais at 15:20.
There was a vacant mooring ball so we initially tied up to that then
realised that, with the westerly swell bouncing off the beach it was rougher
her than further out so went back out to anchor.
Ashore, to book in at Le Pelican, have an ice
cream, a wander round, then a beer at the bar featured in ‘Murder in Paradise’.
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| Mads and Lotta |
On the second, we had another early start and motored the ten miles down to Malendure,
anchored, and dinghied over to Pigeon island to snorkel over Jaques Cousteau
and the reefs which featured so much in his 1960s documentaries.
There was a fair current running, which made
for hard work but it was worth it for the abundance of fish.
A swift trip ashore to get bread for lunch,
then another 12 miles down the coast to anchor for the night.
Storms over the island were sufficiently
strong to give us 10 knots of westerly wind so we managed to sail most of the
way, then had a much-needed shower to wash the salt off the decks and
sails.
Bringing in our towels etc to
keep them dry, Mads managed to drop Lotta’s new bikini bottom over the
side.
Fortunately, it floated long
enough for us to turn and pick it up.
We
overnighted at anchor off Marina Riviere Sens and had another early start to
sail round the bottom of Basse Terre and up to Pointe a Pitre.
Once again, the wind was less than totally
helpful, forcing us to beat for a couple of hours along the bottom of the
island, then veering to its forecast direction to give us a broad reach up the
east coast.
More showers on the way
washed the last of the salt away.
We
anchored in a not very scenic spot near the centre of town at 13:05 and went
ashore to check out busses etc. then, in the evening, I took the bus up to the
airport to meet Elsie who was re-joining after her couple of weeks away.
She had been travelling for 36 hours so it
was another early night.
Unfortunately,
she had picked up a virus on her travels and was feverish by the morning.
Mads and Lotta hired a car and toured the
island, I fiddled about with minor jobs and went ashore for a little shopping
and Elsie mostly slept.
On Thursday
morning, I ferried our guests to the marina.
Elsie was still unwell but I persuaded her to help me take Ruby to the
fuel dock for water in the afternoon.
We
tried to anchor on the other side of the but, for some reason, I couldn’t get
the anchor to hold so we ended up close to where we had started, the other side
of a boat with a dog, abandoned for the afternoon and night, which continually
barked and whimpered.
Not restful.
On Friday Elsie, though not up to full strength, was well
enough to move and we headed out at 0745 to sail up to the Isles de la Petite
Terre.
It was directly into a 15-18 knot
wind, so spirited but we managed it in 7 hours, taking on of the mooring buoys
with a bit of a fumble as I had under-estimated the current flowing through the
mooring field.
I managed to drop the
boathook overboard and made the instant decision to retrieve it.
Not wise as I could barely make way against
the current.
Fortunately, Elsie was
alert and threw the M.O.B. sling for me and hauled me back.
There were many tourist boats in and we had
seen a couple of yachts leaving but we were the only overnight visitors apart
from a small motor cruiser which appeared at sunset.
We wanted to get ashore before the hordes
arrived, so rose at six, only to find heavy showers.
These passed and we managed to get ashore
before 7 and strolled along the beach and round the lighthouse trail, greeting
the many iguanas warming themselves in the morning sun.
The first tourist boat arrived shortly before
9 so we returned to Ruby for a lazy day.
I did go for a snorkel swim but, even with fins on, I struggled with the
current and had to ask Elsie to stream our floating line in case I failed to
catch the ladder as I passed.
After
those exertions, we decided to spend the rest of the day not doing very much,
just another stroll ashore after the tourist boats left at 16:00. Walking along
the shore, we found a small shark patrolling his beat and christened him
Fergal.
On Sunday morning, we found him
again, together with Fiona. Surprising, to us, they wee prepared to share their
very narrow patch.
After our morning
walk, we let go, hoisted sail and headed to St Louis on
Les Saintes.
We alternated broad reaching and goose-wing running in the ENE’ly F4 and
managed to grab a convenient mooring buoy close to the dinghy dock.
Elsie was still feeling poorly so stayed on board on Monday. I took the laundry ashore and got a service
wash done for 20 Euros at the office of Le Saintes Multiservice, who also
provide the mooring balls, together a little shopping, including bread and croissants.
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| Grande Anse, Les Saintes |
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| Shower over the mooring field |
I had checked anodes in Bermuda and they had ample metal
remaining. On my afternoon dip today, I
was alarmed to see that the one on the propeller was down to a sliver. We had a joint walk ashore on Tuesday
morning, over the hill to the Atlantic beach and back. Later, I replaced the prop anode, just using
snorkelling gear. This is just about at the limit of my ability so I was
pleased that it went smoothly. On Wednesday, I made a quick bread run, then
we set off back to the mainland. The wind
was forecast to be Easterly F4 so we left one reef in. There were frequent showers, however, so we
put a second on in before reaching the bottom of Basse Terre. A good decision as there were 35 knot gusts. A French yacht, just ahead of us failed to
put enough jib away and it flogged horribly as they had to unload it. By staying a couple of miles offshore, we
managed to keep wind for a further 10 miles but then had to admit defeat and
motor the last ten up to Pigeon Cove, anchoring in a little bay where there was,
allegedly good snorkelling and a hot spring.
Elsie was again tired so I went for a swim by myself. While there were some quite nice reefs and a
few turtles, the water was very cloudy and the ’hot spring’ was a pipe with
warm water enclosed in a ruined structure with a precarious entrance. Not inviting.
On Thursday, we took the dinghy into the little fishing
harbour, remembering to take a stern anchor to keep it off the rocks while we
were ashore, walked the length of the town and back and did a little
shopping. Then, up anchor and motor the
last 10 miles back to Deshais. The
intention was to continue the following day up to Antigua, so we checked out,
had an ice cream and hauled the dinghy back on board. On Friday, however, Elsie was again not
feeling up to strength so we just had a lazy day on board watching other boats. A large sailing passenger ship arrived, giving
a bit of elegance to the harbour. They stayed
all day, leaving just before sunset with all sails out and a couple of tenders
buzzing around. They circled until last
light, possibly getting pictures for next year’s brochure. We had spaced ourselves nicely from other
boats on arrival but there was an influx of new ones in the afternoon trying to
squeeze into gaps that were only just there.
The problem was made more interesting by the wind swirling round the bay,
giving little clue as to where existing anchors were laid. A Belgian boat laid theirs just a bit too
close and the crew dashed ashore.
Fortunately, on their return, they had spotted a vacant mooring and they
moved to that. Their space was taken an
hour later by a yacht registered in the BVIs but with a Russian name which
managed to just be the couple of feet further away to make it acceptable. Strong gusts, accelerated down the surrounding
mountains, that night had me watching to make sure no-one was going to drag
down on us but, happily, everyone seemed to have set their anchors
properly.
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| Passenger ship leaving Deshais at sunset. |
It seemed that we might have problems checking into St Kitts
on a Sunday so, on Saturday, we had to decide whether to kill time here or off the
Antiguan coast. Purely on the basis of
better bread, we elected to stay put, even though it meant launching the dinghy
again.
I decided to leave it in the water that night to get one
last baguette on Sunday morning and it was as well that I did. As we were finishing supper, about 8 PM, we
heard shouting and whistling. A small
Swedish boat, Alma, which had anchored inside us the previous day, was dragging
and was almost hitting a large French catamaran. We knew that the Swedish boat had only one
man and a young, maybe 6 year- old, boy on board and wondered how they were
going to manage driving the boat and picking up the anchor. It soon became clear that they weren’t. As soon as the owner left the helm to try to
raise the anchor, he lost control and the French started shouting and whistling
again. I quickly donned a lifejacket,
started the outboard and headed over.
Was quickly designated driver, while the owner headed forward. At first, I over-controlled the unfamiliar
boat especially the engine which was almost inaudible (and I never did find the
tachometer). Together, we managed to
raise the anchor, move to a new spot and re-lay it. It dragged again. And again, and again. Eventually, we headed into the mooring field
to see if there were any vacant balls. Fortunately, there was one and we
managed to tie up with no further incident.
Back to Ruby for a well-earned beer.
On Sunday, we sailed up to the SW tip of Antigua, with an
easterly F5 giving us a nice beam reach. We anchored in Johnstone Bay in time
for a late lunch and had a lazy afternoon.
We continued our journey the following morning, lifting the anchor at
0600 and heading to the narrows between St Kitts and Nevis. The wind was forecast
to be from North of East, giving us a broad reach but it decided to alternate
between East and ESE so we were in the no-mans-land and had to alternate between
broad reaching and running. Adding to
the entertainment were frequent showers, with gusts to 30 knots so there was
plenty of playing with sails. Through
the narrows, the wind finally behaved and we had a nice beam reach up to
Basseterre. We tried to contact the
marina at Zante for a berth but they were replying neither to radio or
telephone so we anchored outside and dinghied in. The dockmaster, when found, thought that he
could offer us a berth so, after booking in with some of the most pleasant
officials I had ever dealt with, we settled in for a rolly night. On Tuesday morning, I went ashore to find the
dockmaster and was told to try again at mid-day. I did, with no reply but, on my 3rd
dinghy trip in, I managed to find his boss and we finally got in at 16:30. The calm was very welcome but it was carnival
time with loud music into the not-so- small hours, so we didn’t get our full
sleep. On Wednesday, we caught a local
bus to the top of the island, had a little walk, and caught another bus down
the other coast back to town. Just as we arrived, we saw a supermarket that
we hadn’t noticed before and got some much better food than that available in the
centre. Thursday was another lazy day
with just a walk along a not-very-scenic shore to a chandlery to buy a couple
of things. We booked out on Friday morning
and motored the 5 miles to Christophe Harbour Marina where we knew we could get
cheap fuel and topped up our tank.
The marina is a complete contrast to Zante, which caters for local
fishermen and cheapskate cruisers, is very informal, rather untidy and full. Here was quiet, immaculate and efficient,
with 3 staff helping to tie us up and pass the fuel hose. It was also a little
reminiscent of ‘The Prisoner’, with each staff member having their own radio
and identification number: “Number eleven, this is number six. The captain of Ruby Tuesday is coming to the
office to pay for fuel”. “Roger, number
six. I will let you know when he is on
his way back to the fuel dock”. Fuelling
done, we headed just outside to anchor for the afternoon.
The forecast for Saturday gave ESE’ly winds 12 – 14 knots,
clear skies, ideal for a nice broad reach up to St Barts. Elsie suggested that it would be slightly
shorter to head up the Western side of St Kitts but I poo-pooed this – much
better to be out in the clean winds on the Eastern side. As we picked up the anchor, at 07:00, the
wind was gusting up to 20 knots, so we left the second reef in. We motored the couple of miles to the
Southern tip. Wind, light NE’ly. We motored through the narrows. Wind light
Southerly. We motored right up the
coast of St Kitts, with the wind boxing the compass, anything from 5 – 25 knots
with frequent showers. Finally, with
about 20 miles to go, it steadied to forecast speed and direction and we
arrived off Gustavia at 14:30. The anchorage
was fairly full and we were surprised to find a vacant mooring ball and grabbed
it quickly. Then ashore to check in and
do our Christmas shopping. No, not
presents but lovely food. St Barts is a
billionaires’ playground and even the pleb’s supermarket has 20 types of cheese
and fridges full of smoked salmon and fois gras. We restrained ourselves to one basket but it
was rather full. Back to Ruby for
sun-downers and, once the airport closed for the evening, a quiet night.
On Sunday morning, after a bread run, we let go and motored
the 3 miles up to Anse du Colombier, a lovely bay with a string of little
islands protecting it from the South, which was relevant as the wind was due to
veer over Christmas. We were pleased to
find several mooring balls vacant and grabbed one. Within an hour, later arrivals were fighting
over the last one but several of the late-comers were day trip boats and there
is also room to anchor. We settled in
for a lazy few days with just the odd bit of light maintenance and snorkelling to
break up the sun bathing. We did venture
ashore with the dinghy early on Monday morning, before the day trippers arrived, but the access area is fairly small and, with a bit of a swell rolling into a
steep-to beach, the landing was ‘interesting’ so decided we probably wouldn’t
bother again.
On Tuesday, we were woken at 04:00 by a loud bang. We both rose rapidly to try to discover the
source. Was it something falling? Or a
mooring line parting. Despite searches,
we found nothing untoward and returned to bed.
On making my morning coffee, I found the culprit. A bottle of maple syrup, not used for a few weeks,
must have been gently fermenting and had exploded in the beverage cupboard,
making a very sticky mess with lots of broken glass embedded in it. Still it
could have been worse as the mess and flying glass was contained in the
cupboard. Restored by coffee, I took the
dinghy the 2 miles or so back to Gustavia for daily bread and a couple of other
grocery items routing via the small boat passage inside the islands. It was far shallower than shown on the chart
and, with swell now coming from the south, quite rough. The whole main anchorage was also getting
quite rough so we were very pleased to have bagged our spot. As well as cruising
yachts and day-trip catamarans there had been one or two larger motor yachts in
‘our’ bay. It now rapidly filled with
those of the 100 – 150 ft size who were choosing also to escape the swell. . One of them, Lulu,
made an ambiguous radio call tat afternoon, suggesting that he might be dragging
his anchor. He picked up and moved further
in, so we assumed that he just wanted a better space. At 03:00 on Christmas morning, I was woken by
an air horn being sounded. I rose to see
that Lulu had dragged (again?) and was now resting on the bow of an OCC yacht,
Wild Bird, on the mooring next to us. Gayle,
from the latter, had gone aboard Lulu sounding the horn to rouse the crew. Guests appeared first and then the crew who
eventually manage to get her clear, but not before punching a hole in Wild Bird’s
bow. After that, Christmas day passed
quietly. We had our traditional listen
to ‘The Messiah’ and slobbed around before having an, almost, traditional dinner
of duck confit with roast vegetables.
On Boxing day, the wind was forecast to veer to the South
West, then North West, which would not be comfortable, so we let go our buoy
that morning and motored back round to Gustavia to check out. We tried to pick up a couple of mooring buoys
but both had tangled ropes, so we just anchored for the hour or so required,
then picked up and sailed, under genoa only, downwind to St Martin. We considered going initially to a bay on the
East coast but the North Westerlies were now expected to be light so went straight
round the West coast to anchor off Marigot, on the French side. A quick nip in to register – no charge, and
settled for the night. On the 27th,
we took the dinghy through the lagoon to the Dutch side, dropped off the collar
for the mainsail lazy bag, to see if a new one could be made. From there, we took a bus to the big supermarket
and Cash-and-Carry searching for bargains, which we found enough of to load us
down for the return trip. In the
afternoon, we dinghied into to the local supermarket, stopping off to say hello
to Nicky on Blue Velvet on the way, for some fresh food shopping. The following day, I went Dutch again, to get
parts for our deck shower and stereo. I
thought that I had done well until I returned and found that nothing
fitted.
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| Marigot anchorage from Fort Louis |
We rose early on Sunday and managed to get ashore before it
got too hot to climb up Fort Louis, the fortification the French put in to
protect Marigot from the bloody English.
From here, we took a low-level walk across the bridge to Sandy Ground,
where the less-well-off locals live. We
had heard that there had been riots here a few weeks before but were surprised
to see so much evidence. The road was
littered with burned-out cars, some of them with diversion signs painted on,
which, presumably, the locals were insisting or remaining to re-enforce their
grievances (dating back to the hurricanes of 2 ½ years before). A good visit to the supermarket and back to
Ruby for lunch.
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| Residue of riots at Sandy Ground |
On Monday,Elsie woke feeling ill again. She was shivery and nauseous. It seemed that we had regressed a couple of weeks. We reckoned that her diet the previous day might be to blame and she should try to cut out dairy and wheat for a few days. She was a little bette
r after, a very light, lunch and I made another trip to the Dutch side to return the Speakers I had bought on Saturday, getting instead ones that would fit; remembering to buy a boat hook and collecting the propane bottle. I stopped at the fuel dock on return to get a couple of cans of water but it was unavailable today. On Tuesday, I did some local shopping and fitted the new cockpit speakers. Elsie was a little better but turned down the offer of joining me on a walk ashore as she didn't trust her digestive system to be more than 100 metres away from a lavatory.
It was New Year's Eve and the locals had plenty of fireworks to celebrate. Unfortunately, they let them off at 10 minute intervals from random locations, so we heard a lot of the bangs without seeing many of them. We followed our usual practice of staying up til midnight (U.K. time) before having a nightcap and retiring to bed.
Monthly stats:
Over ground: 363
Log: 410
Annual stats:
Over Ground: 7323
Log: 7524
