Six weeks down island.
Antigua for three weeks, south to Guadeloupe and back north through to the Virgin Islands. It’s flown by. Yet what have we done? Not a lot! And with great purpose behind it. It’s been a time of rejuvenation as well as a reaping of rewards for getting down here, and seeing Caprivi do her thing in a stage of somewhat completeness. It feels oh-so-good.
It seems it can take a lot to get to a space when one feels like they can enjoy the simple pleasures. Finally. We’ve filled our days with coffee in the morning light; reading; hiking; a small boat project here and there; daily swims; making simple meals; tasting the local beer and a last dip as the sun begins to set. With the winter solstice reaching its peak, sleep was much enjoyed also.
It’s a freedom that feels good to us. One that we’ve had before, and one that ebbs and flows.
We’re currently in flow state.
Our first days in Antigua weren’t the ambush of land that one may assume – even what we assumed. It was the gradual stillness that was appreciated. A slow wave of finding our way in this new land with provisioning, currency, etiquette, sim cards et cetera. Like our often naked neighbour in the anchorage, we were just enjoying being here and on Caprivi.
Some northern swell was due in at the end of of our first week so we went north with plans to settle into the south once it arrived. We hoist the sails and pull anchor reaching through the five island group. Of course the wind piped up as we bear the gap, easing the mainsail to come back up. An hour later we get into Deep Bay, dropped the hook and swam to shore to check out the fort located on the small peninsula. We hike barefoot to the end, jump back in and circle back to Caprivi. Woah, haven’t done that much movement in a while – I think it was the swimming/breathing thing.
The winds were down with the unusual weather minimizing the tradewind energy. We slowly make it over to Bird Island for a day and then to Green via the narrow passage through the coral reef with waves breaking to one side – exciting! At Green Island we put all our chain out in the deeper section of water. Charter boats come and go into the shallower spots without much regard for their neighbours. It’ll take us a moment to be less uptight but it is curious to be in waters with people who are given large boats (chartering) without too many quams for theirs or the surrounding boats. To us it’s a responsibility with many aspects to cipher.
We stay a few days. We meet Nico a young German who sailed over from Greece in an 18ft sailboat. It took him a month. Interestingly his occupation is a paragliding instructor and he and a few friends ‘flew’ the South Island, Te Waipounamu, of New Zealand. They started from one end, hiked up a mountain with all their gear, tents and food, jumped off and rode the winds to the next, camp/rest and jump off again. Wow! If I recall correctly it took about three weeks. We share the last of our passage fish for dinner and sourdough the following day.
Once in English Harbour, we nestle down for a while. The harbour of Falmouth and English proved historically important for the repair of ships and a safe haven in summer hurricanes. Their protected bays are somewhat a rarity in this area of the Caribbean, and the island topography allowed significant oversight of oncoming ships by the various forts sprinkled about.
In modern times the harbour has become a favourite with large yachts basing themselves here for the winter season. It’s quite the spectacle. It’s helped by the beautiful location and UNESCO site of Nelsons Dockyard which encompasses the area. The 18th century British ships yard is where boats can now med-tie (anchor out with stern to the dock), and which they’ve restored to house modern businesses. It’s an attraction for sure and fun to photograph. Lord Nelson was stationed here for three years.
We enjoyed the hiking and managed to explore the tallest peak on the island with Renata from Key West, who is working on the beautiful schooner Columbia. We ventured around the island with another cruiser by car and got to enjoy the tropical curvaceous roads and knarly high curbs.
Our days were easy. Once we gauged our bearings and began to look into what the rest of the Caribbean might have to offer, we were dually figuring out what our plans for hurricane season would be as well. We had a few options and essentially needed to figure them out earlier on so we could position ourselves correctly when the time comes to move on. There’s quite a lot of logistics involved in having your home always on the move and at the mercy of the ocean, on top of the local regulations, recycling, dingy dock, weather, seabed conditions et cetera.
Between reading, walking and swimming, Ben worked on increasing the strength of our second bow roller as the modified reaching-strut-turned-asymmetrical-pole had begun to bend the top roller since we’ve been using it for the spinnaker. We met some great people as well, including the founders of a substantial boatyard up in Maine and whom we had ties with from our time up there and Key West connections. It’s astounding how two degree the world is, especially when associated with the community of Key West. They have some inspirational stories of their 1.5 times circumnavigation and how they took the time to do it when they were young, even with a growing business. 40 years later they still have their boat and are getting after it with new hips and all. Of course, they spoke of New Zealand and how they thought of migrating there. I know how lucky I am, yet somehow I’m still in adventuring mode.
At anchor, around 3pm each day we began to notice three dogs swimming past the boat. At first it was random and we thought the one straggling behind might need some help. But each day their owner would drop them off in a skiff at one end of the bay and they would swim to her 20 mins later at the other end while she went snorkeling. We were here for a while and they almost became how we told time – except on Sundays.
After we settled into cruising and Caribbean-mode in Antigua, we dipped south to Guadeloupe for a couple of weeks before we were set to pick friends up in the Virgin Islands. We left at 0800 and had the Atlantic swell beating against our hull as soon as we were out of the bay. It was blowing 20-25 knots forward of the beam as we reached our way south and were reminded to pick better weather windows. The seas swept across the bow of Caprivi as we hid under the dodger speeding along at 8 knots. This was our tack for the next 5.5 hours to the French territory.
Our nav station book shelf had yet to be completed when our most dense books and glass bottles of olive oil flew across the boat and onto the floor. The glass bottle denting the mahogany table and galley wall along the way, but alas not breaking. Only in hindsight am I thankful as a week later Ben got out the walnut trim that we threw in the boat as we were leaving Key West, and finished trimming the border and strung a fiddle up from our old rod rigging that we saved from Maine. Now it’s my favourite shelf.
A few miles out from the bay of Deshaies we hear our friends on Channel 16 who were further down the coast saying they’re seeing gusts of 40 knots coming down the mountains. Thankfully by the time we got into the bay all had calmed and it was a welcoming sight with crystal clear waters and good holding, if in deep waters.
We exchange our Antigua courtesy flag for the French, hoist the yellow quarantine colour, blow the dingy back up and head into shore to clear-in. It’s important to note that we are now in the land of long lunch breaks and siestas, as well as super laxed customs procedures. So relaxed that the do-it-yourself government computer is located at the back of a tee shirt shop. Upon the 5 euro convenience fee and asking the shop attendee how long we could stay in the country, she shrugged.
Some cruisers in the bay invited us out for dinner. We were looking forward to some french cuisine. Our good friends who have circumnavigated the globe mentioned they had one of their most memorable meals in this town, specifically canard (duck), so we were eager to splurge on an outing.
It’s immediately apparent where we were – barely a lick of English was found and we quickly realize we’re hindered in our communications. It took a little while to want to go into a shop to buy some basic items. I wanted to get my head around the very basics of the language to aid my confidence and respect for where we were. I must admit I quite liked the challenge – even if I failed high school French (either quit or got kicked out, I cannot remember). After a couple of days practice, I felt a world of difference in the way I could carry myself. Cheap buttery chocolate croissants were also at stake.
We hike up the steep hill next to Caprivi, taking us to the golden beach in the next bay. The Chinese store provided good provisions in a clustered, if not well organized shop but we were told of a Carrefour supermarket in the next town over. A part of our initial desire to move south was to go grocery shopping in the cheaper, government subsidized stores where quality dairy and baked goods are essential. We’re glad we did!
South we sailed for a couple of hours, handling the katabatic winds as they came. We dropped hook at Plage de Malendure and watched as French tourists kayaked over to Ilets Pigeon, even when it was blowing 20 knots out. Here we cobbled our dive equipment together. I was in charge of making sure we had everything we needed for two sets of gear before we left Florida but failed. After going through it all we realized we had about a 1.5 set up. Between us, we kept a moderate couple of dives and enjoyed the Jacques Cousteau Underwater Reserve in the clear waters and had our list to get our equipment back to more than functional.
A quiet Christmas was spent here, with casual phone calls back home. I shouted myself the use of a washing machine, but still dodging the spurs of rain for drying. We decided to head inland over the mountain of Basse Terre towards Centre de Commercial to find a sim card for our phones. We took three buses and hitched twice to get there and back, and found the most impressive grocery store with crepe stations and bustling delicatessens. Enough so that we may return and hire a car to do a large grocery shop in a few months. We didn’t find the sim card we were looking for as it was too convoluted and figuring it out in French was difficult enough. All in all, seven hours later we returned home, meeting some friendly locals along the way who had picked us up. An adventure in itself and one of the unintentional struggles and/or joys of boat life.
New Years Eve we cleared out of the country and were asleep by 9pm. We set sail the next evening en route for the Virgin Islands to pick up friends who were flying into St Thomas in a weeks time. Leaving the bay upon darkness we head northwest. Early the next morning we heave-to outside the volcanic island of Nevis, and watch the sunrise before carrying on past St Kitts and Statia while enjoying being in the leeward waters.
As we near northern St Kitts, we review our route. Not surprising to Ben, I change our plans and with that, the country we’re headed to. In Ben’s mind, he also would like to test out our new-to-us working staysail to wind so we pretty much beat our way at 40 degrees apparent into St Barts with the sun bearing down on us the entire way. We dropped anchor amid the plethora of boats in the lee of Gustavia, only slightly stressed from a day’s worth of sun, as we head directly north. For a few hours on this tack we had three yellow-footed boobie birds following us, using our disturbance to dive for fish in the waters. They were fun to watch.
New Years is apparently a big deal in St Barts for the wealthy, and in normal times. We forgot this aspect as we changed course. It was a sight to see for sure with the multi-million dollar yachts anchored in the harbour. It wasn’t as offensive as I would have thought and I kind of enjoyed the ridiculousness and splendor of the place. We were able to clear into the island before closing, and once again Ben marveled at having to use the French keyboard to enter all of our information. As always, we hit the local grocery store and grub on some goodies for our efforts to get here.
The next day we venture about and enjoy the tight, decor stores and streets; small hillsides with bay wide views, as well as the boutique high-end speciality grocery stores. One must note by now – I enjoy provisioning, always have. I like the search for a deal and also getting to know what’s local and available. I also like to eat. Amid the sections of luxury knives, slivers of salmon and cavier that were held in glass displays, I found a gem of a deal – a 3L metal canister of Greek extra virgin olive oil for $27. Stoked! Even if we’re on a budget and I’ve had to curb my snobbery for high quality food, olive oil is not one of them.
On the budget note, this includes spending money at the local marine chandler, it’s just a part of the deal with boats. We purchase two-stroke oil, lead weights and hooks to finesse our fishing game. Our walks take us to a scenic and hectic round-about where we watch planes coming and going from the island. During siesta we picnic on home-made baguette sandwiches under the pavilion while waiting for the town to reawaken by 4pm.
After a few days of waiting out the windier trades they call Christmas winds – which consistently blow above 20-25kts – we clear customs, close out with some excellent gelato, and stop by Ticonderoga and enjoy a lovely meal aboard the 72 foot classic sailing yacht with captain and crew.
Directly west for 120 nm, we roll downwind in the 5ft swell wing-on-wing with a double reefed main and genoa, under moonlit skies towards the U.S. and the island of St. Thomas.
We’ve now picked up our friends and have headed back south to the Lesser Antilles and eventually the Windward Islands. I will continue in another blog.
Love you blog! We keep sharing. It with our friends and they love it to! Love Mom and Dad C