After a pleasing four hour reach down island we tack our way into the bay of Portsmouth, Dominica. Elvis – a kind natured man – came out in his skiff to meet us and secured Caprivi with a mooring. This would be our first time paying for a place to moor her since leaving land-life. We ended up moving as the boat in front of us had an electrical fire a few days before and stunk us out. Now we were in boat boy country, where locals make it their career to help you where they can. We blew the dingy back up, managed to clear in the same afternoon and spent the evening checking out the town.

rentals and roads

By afternoon the next day we secured a car to tour the island. In the end it was the less shitty car over the really shitty car with cracks all over the windscreen, that we found. This wasn’t before seeing what our other options were. These said ‘other options’ were found by walking through the neighbourhood to the nonexistent car rental; meeting a local expat who called the known rental car guy, who also happened to be the local police officer, he showed up 10 minutes later with a swanky looking Suzuki Swift but it was quickly realised that this wouldn’t suit as we wanted to explore the island, not just around town. So we said goodbye to Lenny from London and got a ride with the cop to see if his buddy had any cars for rent at the tyre shop. He didn’t either since we needed a 4×4, which we later learnt may have been an understatement. We limp our way back to the original rental and hope that the less shitty car hadn’t been snatched up. Once that was organised, we took our half tank of gas and checked out a local waterfall before the day was out. It was only 17km away but once we left the foothills of town, the roads were another story. 

Dominica became independent from the Brits in 1978, and hence is left hand drive. It was only natural that I be given the driver’s seat – great! The narrow roads were hair pinned with steep drop offs and signs often saying ‘road edge failure’, as well as tanker trucks barreling down the hill taking up the entire road. Again it were the road ditches that were the most nerve wracking. They were deep, sharp concrete tunnels, mere feet from the tyres – one slip of the wheel, the car would be severely damaged and stuck in the ditch. This information was all acquired in the first 20 minutes. Ogi, who was technically responsible for the car and had the front seat, was vocally uncomfortable – I don’t blame him. 

It was soon apparent that you must use the local system and toot your horn before every corner to warn the oncoming traffic, and in the end this worked quite well. I did not envy the stress of being a passenger! After a much deserved late lunch at the local restaurant, we head back out and stop by the ‘chocolate factory’ which consisted of a chilly bin for fermenting, a bench for the cacao beans to sun dry, and a small building with a few machines to separate, melt and mix the chocolate while a lady handpicked the last bits out of the chocolate. We tasted almost every kind and purchased a few of the tropical flavoured bars which were excellent. I’m only a little bit of a chocolate fanatic. To get to this waterfall before dark, we move on and before we know it, it’s possible we’re on the worst road on the island? So with the car’s shitty torque, we full throttle trying to get up the dirt hill while avoiding sliding off the high rocky tracks with tall grass, a steep cliffside and rummaging goats. ‘How do other tourists get here?’ I wondered. They probably get a local guide to take them – that makes sense! 

The falling light was sublime and we got some beautiful views of the rainforest and villages. We get to the spot and walk 15 minutes down to where we think the falls are. As we veer off course a little, Ben makes it first and heads for the top. To see Ogi’s face light up as Ben leaps into the pool below was like a child on Christmas morning. We’re the only ones here and make the most of this adult playground before the light is through. Bombies galore! I love a good river. We manage to pull ourselves away and head for the fun drive back in the dark. Wow, what a first day! We were toast and yet have big plans for the rest of the week. A good start one would say, and already a great adventure. 

water everywhere

The next day we head to the valleys to the south of the island. It’s about a 1.5 hour drive but on decent roads, at least from our previous outing that is. We enjoy the drive, stopping when it pleases. One turn off leads us up to Dominica’s largest freshwater lake and hydroelectric source located at a chilly 2500ft. The short hike is muddy but surprises us with its beauty and dense tropical forest. Freshwater streams ooze around us; heliconia flora abound; and the ebb and flow of mist give way to views of both the Atlantic and Caribbean Sea. 

Next, we head back down the mountain to a waterfall. The hike says 45 minutes each way, and for some reason we decide to do it barefoot, throwing our jandals in the bush. I would say it was probably easier given the mud! Descending upon the falls, we could hear them before we could see them. The 200 ft drop makes Middleham one of Dominicas tallest falls. It was spectacular – magnific – along with its very refreshing pool to jump into. Before we head back for our drive north and home, we put eyes on the trailhead for the following day’s hike, and see what the fuss is about with the gorge nearby where a bunch of chatty foreigners had gathered. Yup – it was a cruise ship day. 

Titou gorge was used in the Pirates of the Caribbean film. It’s short, refreshingly cool swim led into a narrow walled crevasse. We swam into the deep waters with our flotation device, surrounded by curved rock walls and lush flora poking out from above with the natural light to guide us. At the end was a small but powerful waterfall.

A full day complete. Our foot muscles strengthened, bodies clean once again and now a lengthy drive back north to Caprivi with hopes of an extra early start in the morning. 

a get away night

This crew isn’t good at early mornings, and by that I mostly mean our Alaskan visitors. This paired with packing for a night away; it was a feat that we left by 730am. The dingy quickly loaded with all things we modern humans need for a night’s sleep and away we left. Now – the road familiar to us – we begin our day’s hike by 930am back in the south. We were on the trail to the boiling lake, second largest to that of Frying Pan Lake in Rotorua, New Zealand! And yes, it’s a lake that visually boils. We pass guided groups on our way to the Valley of Desolation. Once at the top of the ridge, you descend down into this sharp, steeped valley covered in virgin forest. It’s quite the sight especially with the steam from the lake and it’s tributaries rising from down below. 

We get to a bottleneck of slippery mud and steep sections having to use all four limbs while teetering on the edge of the cliff with valley gusts pushing us around. Once at the bottom, we get in front of the groups of other tourists to continue down. Most people here have a local guide which is advised, however, one guide didn’t mind letting us know that it was most definitely mandatory. It’s not, as per the sign at the beginning and on the National Parks website. We understand that it’s helping the economy and definitely something to consider. The few guides that get upset must know there is a place when one should be allowed to be self-sufficient and not have to rely on green paper, and simply allowing ignorance to precede. It will do them more good to accept it than try and control it. I’m sure there were some things we missed and that’s okay. 

The valley continues, we ebb and flow over creeks and rocky ridges until we finally ascend upon the high edge of the caldera. Mist embeds the lake, yet in a moment it’s blown away revealing the boiling water 150ft below, the lake itself roughly 200ft across. It’s soon realised that you’re on the edge of a volcano’s mouth, with hot magma heating the bubbling water. 

finger jewelry

In anticipation for this trip, Ogi had reached out to say that he had finally purchased a ring for Kayla and wanted to give it to her at some point. This was the point, and what better place. The usual confident and unfiltered Ogi had dimmed. Here we were moments from getting the ledge to ourselves, Ben and I climbed the hill to stage for pictures as Ogi and Kayla posed below. Having to time it with the mist, in a matter of seconds Ogi gets down on one knee and pulls out the ring in front of a confused Kayla. Ben and I had barely gotten the camera to come on! The mist returns and it all happens in a blink of an eye. They have their romantic moments and we embrace the occasion. Kayla and Ogi are already married and have a unique tale and this just adds to the icing on the cake for their love story. We are so happy for them and to be a part of it. 

As we begin to cool down, we turn back. Before we climb up the steep valley we boil the nine eggs we had carried to snack on. After a few attempts at finding the hottest patch of boiling water in the small flowing creeks, we crack ’em open and take pride in our efforts of boiling an egg in this remote environment. Six hours later we’re back at the trailhead and go straight for another swim in the refreshing waters of the gorge. Our bones are soaked, clay war-paint removed, one ring finger occupied and we’re revitalised for the evening ahead.

With a few hours left of daylight we head into the city of Roseau and get caught in its madness of traffic and one way streets. We find our way south to the quieter and spectacular coast of Soufriere and Scotts Head, and scout out a camp spot to sleep. Kayla and Ogi get their romantic night in the car rental and Ben and I, outside in our now somewhat, crunchy two-man tent. There’s always a little nostalgia and every time we feel cosy sleeping on the ground under this piece of nylon. We’ve likely spent upwards of a year in this tent – it feels like home. The day is ended by a sunset dinner at the water’s edge. 

SCTLD

Waking at sunrise with the surrounding waters of the Atlantic and Caribbean Sea, we pack up and go to the dive shop for cappuccinos, multiple cappuccinos. We’re out of luck on the Lionfish sandwich. Local divers and tourists are getting ready for the day ahead, as the four of us slowly continue waking up. We met one diver who started diving at around 65. And now at 83 has over 1000 dives logged. Wow! 

One volunteer has been diving everyday on the reef for over a year, with syringes containing amoxicillin mixed with marine epoxy and administering it to the reef. They’ve been treating Stony Coral Tissue Loss Disease (SCTLD) which first appeared in 2021. The disease, regarded as the deadliest coral disease ever recorded, is said to kill the soft tissue of at least 22 species of reef-building corals, killing them within months or even weeks. Interestingly, SCTLD showed up in the Florida Keys in 2019 – but this was the first I’d heard of it. Most likely to our ‘head down’ approach to living at that time – time to take a look around. 

twin falls

Sufficiently caffeinated and inspired from a lovely morning, we compliment it with a dip in the ocean swimming along the coast to where hot bubbles form beneath the reef and dissipate into the clear waters. Champagne reef they call it – a  pretty cool phenomenon to see. Next up is the long line at the local KFC! For some reason the crew decided this would be a good idea. Full as a bull we head back up the valley to the waterfalls of Trafalgar. The parking lot, empty. 

Twin falls, side-by-side, and wonderful in their own right. At the viewing platform a local ‘guide’ told us that we could not go closer due to a flood warning. He stated that when this one rock is submerged that means there is danger. We took in what he said and questioned his reasoning. No one else was there and we continued to enjoy the view, so he took his change of clothes and simply left. With caution we took off to get beneath the falls. We maneuvered over the large boulders trying to find the path of least resistance. Finally we managed to get there and dipped into the refreshing waters. The best part of these falls was the hot spring merging with the cool waters descending from the gorge above. The sulphuric acid tainting the rocks orange. One could sit in the super hot waterfall and then dip into the cold pool. Along with the 270 ft drop, this place was simply stunning!

Back at the trailhead we mentioned what the ‘guide’ had said to the people in the facilities. They laughed saying that that was ridiculous and were glad that we had continued on to enjoy the falls. Apparently he was actually an official guide (maybe one slightly on the downhill), so we reported him to the officials so that no one else would be discouraged from experiencing this majestic place. It’s likely he was baiting us, so that we would then ask if he would take us safely down the falls for a fee. 

a break

Back home on Caprivi, we still have a few more days with the rental. The past four days had been too much excitement for Ben and I and we decided to stay home. I suppose our life is an adventure in itself and this is too much to handle! So with that Kayla and Ogi repack the car and head off for another two days of fun. 

We relax, do the usual tidy up, look at weather and organise our lives a bit and replenish. After dark we check out the beach party and BBQ but sadly only after they ran out of food! New friends pull into the bay and we share an evening on Caprivi, followed by a potluck on Stephens boat the next. Prior to dinner, Ben hunts the seafloor for Lionfish and I spot him in the dingy with a bucket. He also checks the surrounding mooring lines out of curiosity – some strong, some not-so. I make a salad, saute some cabbage and Ben fillets the four Lionfish. A meal barely for two but we share it for appetizers with friends. Yum! 

Later that evening Kayla and Ogi arrive back from their excursion. Ben picks them up and they join the party. Kayla and I head in early, the boys not returning til 3am! Our final day with the car we return to the first falls for some more bombies. Ogi gets in a front flip from the highest point. We take in our last shower in nature and Kayla does some laundry. A perfect ending. 

south to saint pierre

0730 departure from the pleasant and placid bay of Portsmouth, bound for St Pierre, Martinique. A 56nm sail. This would be Kayla and Ogi’s final port. We had light winds to begin with motoring for an hour but picking up wind further south;  20-25kts from the east. With Dominica in our wake, her mountains and sheer cliffsides of the southwest coast were dramatic and it felt like we were leaving behind an adventure and a half. Wai’tukubuli – her indigenous name, meaning ‘Tall is her body’ – was beautiful. 

1630 we arrive to the long but thin shelf of St Pierre and find a place to put our anchor in the south. We clear in the following day, again without a lick English. Luckily, it’s done mostly by computer.  

The still active volcano of Mount Pelee billowed from our bow among the clouds. What a story in history this place tells. Lying not far from Caprivi in the depths are numerous shipwrecks caused by the 1902 eruption that killed 29,000 people in a matter of minutes and leaving only a couple of survivors. The apparently incandescent gas descended upon the town at more than 100mph suffocating and burning all in its path. The details leading up to this catastrophe are surely intriguing, and yet the town is again bustling away, inhabiting the original infrastructure that was left standing. One famed survivor was placed in a poorly ventilated jail cell the night prior. Historians state he later joined the circus. 

farewell

Our final two days with Kayla and Ogi on board were chill. We spent time in the water on the shallow wreck nearby and below Caprivi; checked out the town and its historical sights; ate baguettes and kwa sonts; walked to the local rum distillery and that’s about it. Ambitions to climb the mountain were lost to simply being on Caprivi. They were heading back to winter in Alaska and so I think the norms of boat life were being cherished. I know Ogi could go on about the nuances of this way of living but I also know those are the things he will miss. 

To spend a month with four people on a 44ft boat is a small feat. There aren’t many people who we could share such a small space with. I commend Kayla and Ogi for embracing all aspects and really, they fell into the flow of things like naturals. Even if Ben sniffled once or twice at certain water usages, we were just getting used to Caprivi’s systems taking on four humans. She did well. 

I will miss our extra slow mornings; our underwater adventures; not doing boat projects every day; Ogi having the best days ever; making baguette sandwiches on the streets; seeing boat life through new eyes; our charming conversations; our relatively internet-less month; and simply spending time with good friends who became even good-er by the end. Love yas!