A week had passed since our friends had departed, yet we were still in the same posy in Sainte Pierre, Martinique. I don’t have too much recollection of this time except for laundry and attempting a conversation with a local for far too long in no common language. We both persisted to impart some understanding but I don’t think it really mattered. The attempt was enough for a human connection. We had our home to ourselves again; it felt much larger, substantially quieter. The question now was:

Is it okay to take a rest after your holiday with friends, which in turn is your life?

cheap frills

Montage Pelee began to peak out from the clouds, showcasing herself to us – to no avail, we were comfy. Another cruiser heading north kindly offered their cruising guide to us as we didn’t yet have one for this area of the Caribbean. We began our bounce south, popping into the coastal bays for a day or two. We would check out the surrounding seabed, go to the grocery store and walk the town. In the case of Les Anses d’Arlet, we walked the trail via the peninsula to the next town over and hitched back. During this time Carnival was also happening. To no timing of our own we attempted to anchor in Fort de France – the capital – where one of the liveliest Carnivals would be over the next five days. As much as we tried, there was no space for us that we would be comfortable with so we moved south. 

We sailed on past the pronounced Diamond Rock and tacked our way upwind and east to Sainte Anne, near one of the largest hubs of chartering in the Caribbean. We attempted to get into Le Marin but the bay, again, was choca with boats of all kinds, so we headed back for the outer bay and turquoise waters. Naturally, this place meant boat parts and things to fix your boat with, cause you know… boats. This excites us. Can’t say I know why but this is how we’ve been getting our frills for a few years now. Among other things, we had hoped to find a new propeller for our dinghy but no luck. 

After a few days of provisioning, we connected with our friends on Principles who wanted to meet in Bequia Island, in the Grenadines. We woke at 4am to make the 90nm passage south in hopes to put down anchor before sunset. Light winds in the lee of St Lucia were encountered, so we motor a little to keep good time. Passing St Vincent, however, the winds switched from east to west and we were making way south on a starboard tack which felt rather strange! We milked what we could and tacked back when the island gave way to the Atlantic. With the relatively light winds, we pulled out our second-hand drone that Kayla and Ogi brought with them, and flew it for the first time while sailing. Upon landing there was definitely no yelling between husband and wife! Seeing our child from different viewpoints was very satisfying, so much so we flew it again at sunset before pulling into Bequia – another success! 

We arrive 15 minutes after the sun goes down and circle Principles who were waiting with rum in hand! We put down anchor at the back of the fleet and head on over to spend the evening with Andy and Alex whom we had met in Key West. They had spent a year or so refitting their schooner Principles, and which they purchased blind, during covid and had been damaged during a hurricane in the Bahamas. Now she’s the best looking yacht in the anchorage, with her classic lines and finesse.

the lovely bequia

Bequia, an island within the country of St Vincent and the Grenadines. We hadn’t thought we would get down this far but as time went on, we learnt this region was an area not to miss and this island in particular, was a favourite for a lot of people. It has a large bay in the lee, a relaxed island-life atmosphere mixed with locals and a few expats, it caters to cruisers with many dingy docks and easy provisioning, and with the use of the english language making it a great spot. 

Curiously, the island still has traditions in whale hunting. They’re allowed four humpbacks per year, which are taken by small traditional open boats and harpoon. No whales have been taken since 2019. I couldn’t imagine the juxtaposition this would pose in the next bay over – a modern, stark white catamaran surrounded by a sea of blood and the ordeal of a harvest. They have the last subsistence quota left in the tropical regions and whale bones decorate the island and compliment the architecture. 

navy 44’s

We hang out with Alex and Andy for the coming days, walking the island and dingy down the peninsula to see what else is going on above and below the waters surface. After they head back north, low and behold we decide to get into boat projects. We haven’t had the best luck with goop and sealant, so when the kind frenchman back in Le Marin said this particular tube was tres bein, we couldn’t argue – literally cause it was in French, and we didn’t have anything to loose. Ben gets to re-bedding the traveller as well as the dorade guards and miscellaneous fittings on deck. All said and done this took about two full days in the sun. 

It was during this clear, bright afternoon that a sail boat motored by and yelled out to Ben, asking if Caprivi was a Navy 44. This astonished us as no one knows what our boat is but always asks. As it unravelled, Walter had just purchased one at the recent government auctions, and was currently refitting her in New York. There are only 20 of these model boats that were specifically built for the US Naval Academy for offshore racing and training. Funnily enough, we had been in touch with his daughter Emma who hosts a sailing podcast, about Flirt and their refit, and seeing if there was anything we could help with. 

Walter knew a little of our story with Caprivi and pictures of our refit through Emma. It was serendipitous that we ran into him on his month down in the Caribbean. We spent the next day finishing re-bedding and then the evenings with Walter and his friend Chris. Although their refit and intention is quite different to ours, I can’t imagine having the ideas (and what not to do’s) from a mostly finished refit in plain sight. 

foraging

We end up spending two weeks here. We free-dive the wreck near by, always trying to advance our skills. The wreck had plentiful colour and life bound to it’s structure. On another outing, we head back down the peninsula by dingy to check out a small shipwreck up on the rocks with the idea of salvaging some material. We anchor the dingy, with tools loaded in the dry bag and Ben swims across to the small breaking ledge and to the wrecked boat while I have a snorkel around. Underwater I could hear the multi-tool buzzing away as Ben cuts a few 2×4 foot sections of fiberglass from it’s hull. As humorous as it was, he swims back to the boat with partial hull in hand. The costly material may come in handy at a later date but hopefully not. 

a common accent

It was in this particular bay, three kiwi-flagged boats came and went. Since leaving New Zealand seven years ago, I’ve only spent two months back home – sorry mum! We had only seen one other kiwi vessel before and unfortunately (or fortunately for them!) they weren’t home when I decided to dingy over with my huge NZ flag attached to our boat hook. Ha! I do realize the level of enthusiasm may not be reciprocated. This did not stop me from yelling across the bay trying to get each boats attention and then lifting my flag on the bow of Caprivi with a big smile. Free beers do usually follow, or a cup of tea.

The first boat had been stuck in Grenada since covid and the freshness of kiwiana was ripe and I loved it. A few days later the second boat arrived, I pull out the binoculars to confirm my prey and to make sure it’s not an Aussie flag. The name of this boat was Tu Meke – what was great about this is that this maori word is Ben’s most commonly used Te Reo word. It means ‘too much’ but as in ‘well done’ or expressing respect, and less so in the literal sense – which may be when Ben uses it the most, and towards me!

Lastly, we had a great ol’ time with Bunny and Henk on their expedition sailing boat, Tiama. They built this steel beast in Auckland in the 90’s and took people down to the sub-Antarctic Islands for twenty-odd years. Now, they’re enjoying their retirement on her. Inspiringly, they are long time activists with Greenpeace and were formerly crew on the Rainbow Warrior when the French Secret Service bombed the boat, killing their friend. The vessel was protesting nuclear testing in the Pacific Islands at the time. Henk was a huge resource for our interest in possible higher latitude sailing – especially after a bottle of rum! 

kites and bugs

We pull ourselves away from this cosy place and have a speedy three hour sail to Mayreau Island. A northern swell was due in so we decide to try out the windward side of the island that is protected by reef. It’s unusual to have the easterly trades blowing with the land to our stern. The next day we wake to a few boats around catering to kite surfing, and we watch as they zoom all over the show. With the reef directly in front of us, we go see what it’s got to offer and dingy over the most turquoise waters we’ve seen in the Caribbean. 

This is like a little Bahamas. Ironically, Ben and I happen to be having a small tiff about nothing but we hop in and take our first dives as the other holds the dingy. One minute later we’re buzzing as we spot the biggest lobster/crayfish/bugs we’ve ever seen. Down at 45 ft two giants were walking around on top of the reef like they owned the show. We couldn’t open our palm wide enough to get a grip around their girth-ly carapace. Before you know it, they realise humans are about and find a hole to hide in. This is a marine park and is a no-take zone, so we suffice. Subsequently, we forget what we were annoyed about. We check back in with them the following day, still prancing about the reef.

Once the northerly swell had subsided, we head for the lee and hang out on the relaxed and quaint island of Mayreau. One steep hilled road with friendly stray dogs and goats ruling the hangout by the church grounds. The next day was National Heroes Day and the island celebrates with cricket and a BBQ. We meet the end of the events as the kids are playing tug of war, and when the second round of food came out. 

Around the corner is a well known area named Tobago Cays. The marine park is known for it’s beautiful waters and horseshoe reef for protection. We have a sporty, short sail over to the anchorage, passing the motoring catamaran in the windy conditions. As we put our anchor down five different turtles pop their head up to say hello. We’re only here one night as they now charge for being in the park, so we make the most of it exploring the small islands, the outer reef and simply pondering in the shallows. I couldn’t get enough of the gorgeous waters.

Midday we pull anchor and reach the genoa out for a lazy downwind sail, due west and without the mainsail. The southern channel isn’t as bad as the guide says and the reef is easy to identify. Another 1.5 hr sail, we get the drone out again and get some shots. At one point Ben thought we had a technical difficulty and would have to turn the boat around to go get the drone from the middle of the sky! But he figures it out. 

Union Island. Here we watch as kite surfers do their thing in the trades, while wishing we had equipment to learn. We stay a few days anchored near Frigate Island. Walking two miles into town, we get adopted by Jim, a local stray that walked all the way back to Frigate Island with us. The area has infrastructure of an old marina that began being built in the early 90’s but was then abandoned. We meet some more neat folk, including the crew of Tu Meke and another kiwi boat whom we gate crashed the birthday party; no flag this time though. The owner of Nikau had spent 18 months travelling Africa in a large truck with nine others back in the 80’s, sleeping outside or under the truck when it rained. Woah!

a schedule

During this time of excellent cruising and island hopping, Ben’s dad had finally booked flights to come sailing with us. We now had a date to be somewhere – we also had a connection with the U.S. and it’s inventory. So we spent quite a bit of time organising things that we needed and getting them sent to Ben’s folks place. Down here supplies can be quite limited. Thank you Mike and Brenda for dealing with everything that came in and to Mike for hiking it to Guadeloupe!

By the time this was all said and done, we needed to get moving north. This was certainly a turning of events, knowing our time down here is coming to an end. Even though we will be here for another month or so, the magic has slightly dissipated as we now start to think beyond these winter waters and prepare ourselves for the next voyage with the changing seasons. 

---

I dive down to retrieve the extra line Ben had placed on the free mooring, and we release ourselves at 0740, bound for somewhere north as we begin our island hop to Guadeloupe. For lunch I make a PBJ sandwich and Ben’s crown falls out! Great. We look at the guide book to see what dentists were nearby. Initially, we were thinking the capital of Martinique but no one answered the phone and did they speak english? We pull in early for the night in a secluded bay in the south of St Vincent. 

Continuing north, after a shitty sail (wind is all over the place), we decide to drop into Rodney Bay, St Lucia as we had managed to secure a dental appointment the very next morning by phone. We didn’t think we would stop in this country as there were recent attacks on cruisers as well as a bad reputation for dingy theft. That, and the fact that you can’t see everything. After dodging the downpours, we clear in with customs an hour before Ben’s appointment. The dentist was excellent, and his crown was back in place in no time. I celebrated with the best gelato I’ve had in a long time. Again, we check out the chandlery and grocery, and in the end decide to clear out the same day. We likely could have dismissed clearing into the country all together!

We have an excellent 33nm sail into Fort de France, Martinique averaging 7.5kts. Midway we spot two whales ahead and have to veer upwind of them at the last moment, as not to run into them. Not great after having read of the recent sunken sailboat in the Pacific via whale. 

walking high with pastries

Our friend Gordon was in the anchorage so we have dinner on Caprivi. We clear in two days later on the Monday and decide to wake up with coffee at the local Patisserie and walk around the bustling city, picking up some spices at the market while we’re at it. Midday we continue north for two hours back to Saint Pierre. Another great sail as we pass motoring boats, however, finding a place to anchor was another story. We had spent two weeks here prior and knew the winds would spin us around, and now the skinny shelve was packed with boats. Eventually we drop hook but not after an hour or so of testing out the best spot. 

The plan was to finally hike to the top of Montagne Pelee, the volcano that killed the whole city back in 1902. In the literal sense, it’s one of the deadliest volcanoes on earth and still active but officials apparently have a better eye on it these days. We wake at 5am with the early vehicle traffic travelling along the coast, in my midst of waking I get sense of being back on land and having to go to work. I come-to and realise our efforts are to go climb a volcano – that’s much better.

Gordon picks us up, we get some espresso before catching the 7am bus. Hitchhiking didn’t work for the first two miles to get to the trailhead, so we pushed on. The trail was directly up and into the clouds. A few hours later we hit the top and hang out while we get only glimpses of a view as the clouds come and go, and dine on our much deserved baguette sandwich. On our way down we walk the rim of the caldera but it’s more a large sink with pasture, and resembling nothing that was active and/or dangerous. The descent is always the worst part, and we hadn’t done much hiking since Dominica so our legs were feeling it. Of course it wasn’t until we were back down at sea level sharing a beer when the peak decides to clear from the clouds and showcase herself! Fun nonetheless.

A quick check of the weather, and it’s either we leave the next day or wait a few days for the stronger winds to subside. So we get going and spring off for Portsmouth, Dominica – a nine hour sail. These trade winds really make the Caribbean a great place to move by sail. Mostly, the winds are on the beam as you head up or down the islands. When they’re not, thankfully Caprivi exceeds at sailing up wind – we’re constantly stoked. 

The sargassum is present but we still put the fishing line out and catch a small mahi but put her back. This was literally the first fish we’d caught in the Caribbean. We hope Mike brings his fishing game with him. We push Caprivi a bit, having been lazy not setting up the staysail. Light winds prevail as usual in the lee of the island as we stay a few miles out.  At this point we’re tempted to put the asymmetrical spinnaker up but luckily the winds come back after a quick dip in the vivid blue water. 

squally and complete

The next day, we leave the calm anchorage in Portsmouth and continue on to our final destination of Pointe a Pitre, Guadeloupe. We were anxious to get here to have enough time to get some things done before Mike flew in. Mainly reorganizing things around the boat; find a welder for the windvane; do some engine maintenance and in general getting her looking good. Mike has spent a lot of his time working on Caprivi over the years; likely months at 10 hours a day (his own drive). But this visit we want to make sure it’s all about pleasure, adventure and seeing Caprivi do her thing.

We dodge a few squalls that creep up on us, one seeing more than 35 kts. Naked, I grab the helm and run with the weather trying not to gybe while Ben quickly reefs the mainsail. It’s pouring, I’m drenched and Ben finally takes over after getting his rain gear. It’s always curious how fast things can change; it puts a lot into perspective. 

As we now sit on anchor outside the city of Pointe a Pitre, the boat has exploded with all of our stuff and Ben is deep in compartments tightening screws, organising and sealing seams with his new French goop. Another job to get done while we’re here is to do a major food provision having access to French goods at relatively cheap EU pricing. But we’re most excited to pick Ben’s dad up from the airport and spend ten days sailing up to Antigua! AND attempt at doing not one boat project with him – wish us luck.

I’m finally caught up to real time, thanks for being here!

Ka kite.