Lavers blog, 4th 2008-2009 entry
January 13, 2009, Portsmouth, Dominica
Martin returns the repaired outboard.
Martin brings Igna over about 9:30. We agree that he cannot fix the motor on board, so they take it back to Igna’s shop. The motor is about 18 years old, so Larry fears the worst and begins to research how much a new motor would cost (too much!). We are relieved when Martin calls about 11:00 to say that Igna has fixed the motor and replaced the propeller as well. He promises to come about 1:30 with the repaired motor. This being Island Time, it is about 2:00 when Martin arrives with the motor, but it works like a top. Martin is unclear about what the problem was, but among other things, the old propeller casting was broken into several parts in the hub area. We head immediately into town to buy bread, milk and a few staples, then go to the ATM to get money to pay Martin. They are working on the ATM, but a seemingly disembodied voice somewhere in or behind the machine tells us that there is another one down the road at the medical school. We decide to stop for a beer at the Sisters Inn where we met the proprietor with Bengt and Lotta last spring. We have a long discussion about American and Dominican politics with the German bartender. She tells us how to get to the ATM at the medical school via the beach without having to talk our way through security at the gate. On our way down the stony beach, Larry trips and falls flat, crushing our 2 loaves of bread and hitting his hand hard on one of the larger stones. The hand hurts more and more on the way back to the boat. Fortunately, the combination of ibuprofen, ice and a good rum punch effect a miraculous cure (except for some severe discoloration). Spaghetti with sauce made from local vegetables for dinner, then Larry reads Stieg Larson until 1:00 a.m.
January 14, 2009, Portsmouth – Roseau, Dominica
Filling the water tank through a hose from shore.
Chris Parker’s forecast is for high winds and heavy seas between the islands for several days, then a very comfortable week next week. We set 2 reefs in the main before leaving the mooring. It is blowing 25, gusting to 33 in the harbor when we leave, and a least one of the four boats leaving about the same time turns back to reduce sail. But as soon as we round Rollo Head, the wind falls to almost nothing. We quickly tire of the game of trying to match our sails to the gusts and lulls – 3 knots to about 25 knots and back, and varying from NE to NW in the turbulence caused by Dominica’s high mountains. We roll up the jib and motor sail with the double reefed main – it looks pretty silly – to Roseau. We tie up at one of Sea Cat’s moorings, and with a combination of extension lines at the bow and stern, pull the stern near enough to his dock to get a water hose on board. Our tanks are almost completely empty, so it takes a while to fill them. Tony from Rogue, a pretty Swan 36, rows over to offer to help us pull back to the mooring. Instead, we invite him and Janey aboard for cocktails at 6:00. We talk for a couple of hours, then go ashore to the Anchorage Hotel for dinner. They are a delightful couple from Henley on Thames, and by the time we close the restaurant at about 10:00 we feel that we have made new friends. We row back in the dark and fall immediately asleep.
January 15, 2009 – Roseau
Larry is having an allergy attack, so we are a little slow getting moving today. We decide to put up our awning that was modified by A&F Sails in Antigua. The new zippers intended to accommodate the lines from the Dutchman mainsail furling system work well -- the awning is now easier to set up and provides protection from both sun and rain. We row into Sea Cat’s dock and walk into Roseau to shop for groceries and Whitchurch’s store. The town is as unappealing as we remember it. Two cruise ships are in, so there is a lot of activity. We retreat to Singoalla, stopping to buy fruit from a street vendor and bread from a local bakery. Larry still doesn’t feel so good, so he takes a nap while Elisabeth goes for a swim. Elisabeth prepares a big salad for dinner. Larry starts the second Stieg Larson book, but only reads a few pages before heading for bed.
January 16, 2009, Roseau, Dominica – St. Pierre, Martinique.
St. Pierre waterfront in the afternoon sun.
We listen to Chris Parker’s 8:30 broadcast – we can’t get reception for the 7:00 session. He is definitely not encouraging. Rain squalls today, seas about 9 feet, although with a long interval meaning they are more ocean swells than steep waves, and the wind around 20 knots from 80 degrees, gusting to 30 in the frequent squalls. Rogue and several other boats depart going south. We decide that with so many boats on the move, and none of them turning back after passing the tip of the island, things can’t be too bad. Another 3 days in Roseau is not especially inviting, and we can always turn around if conditions are too unpleasant. By the time we get the awning down and are prepared to leave a big squall comes through that we wait out at the mooring. We finally leave about 11:00, and dutifully set 2 reefs in the main in preparation for the anticipated rough crossing. One other boat, Sayonara, is on the same schedule we are, but all the others are long out of sight. Elisabeth won’t let Larry set the Genoa until after we pass a fierce looking squall ahead. (You can see the squalls from miles away – the rain is gray and totally opaque, and they have well defined borders.) The wind turns out to be very light, and out of the SSE, so we are on a slow beat to nowhere. It doesn’t take much calculation to realize that we are not going to get to St. Pierre today if we continue to sail – even if we shake out the useless reefs. So we start the engine, furl the genoa and head more or less in the right direction. Our track on the GPS indicates that we must be drunk as we try to avoid the worst of the squalls. We discover an odd phenomenon in the 2 squalls we are unable to avoid – no wind! Usually squalls bring heavy gusts of wind from random directions. These have at most 15 knotsof wind, but copious amounts of rain. Progress is slower under power than we had anticipated under sail, particularly as we near the coast of Martinique. The ocean swells meet locally generated waves in a most irregular pattern, and at times we waste more energy bouncing up and down than in going forward. As we near St. Pierre it is clear that we will arrive after sunset, but hopefully before all light has gone. We decide to douse the main when we are still a couple of miles from town, but it hangs up part way down. We realize that the topping lift has somehow wrapped around the halyard or the shackle, We lose about 15 minutes going in circles to clear the halyard, which means that it is full dark by the time we arrive. At St. Pierre there is a very narrow shelf along the shore suitable for anchoring, then the depth falls away to over 1,000 feet very quickly. The bright lights along the shore make it very difficult to see the boats already at anchor – night vision goes completely to hell, and there are at least 35 boats at anchor along this narrow shelf. It takes us at least 30 minutes of wandering around and poking into spots that seem likely, but are actually 100 feet deep right up to shore, before we are able to anchor in about 50 feet. We are surprised to see that we are right next to Rogue. Dinner is soup, a sandwich and several glasses of wine. Sleep comes quickly, in Larry’s case before actually making it to the bunk.
January 17, 2009, St. Pierre
Boats at anchor in St. Pierre.
Maestro calls on the VHF, and we agree to meet ashore at 9:30. The Rogues are already ashore when we arrive. It is market day, not as colorful as Dominica but nevertheless with a good selection of fruits and vegetables as well as fishermen selling fresh caught marlin. Larry goes to a small café to clear customs via the internet while Elisabeth and Wendy go in search of an ATM. Both chores accomplished, Elisabeth goes shopping to replenish Singoalla’s food supply and Wendy goes to the local Laundromat. Afterward we go to a small restaurant whose elegant interior is totally out of synch with the shabby entrance on the dingy street. Café au lait all around, then back to the boats to stow our purchases. We decide to move to shallower water nearer Maestro, as we will be going there for dinner. We discover that 50 feet of chain plus the weight of the anchor is just more than the windlass can handle, so we need to help it by pulling the chain by hand for a few feet. It soon begins to perform as it should, but while we are getting the anchor up the throttle handle suddenly comes off in Larry’s hand. The bolt holding it on has snapped. Larry does a quick fix with a pair of vise grips, and we move the boat without further incident. Larry’s attempts to drill out the broken bolt fail, so we will have to drive using the vise grips until we can find a mechanic with the proper tools. Elisabeth begins sending emails on her Blackberry, and suddenly asks, “do you know what day it is?” Oh my, January 17th, oour 34th anniversary, which both of us forgot. Quick, into the dinghy, in to 8 a Huit, buy a bottle of champagne and back to Singoalla in time to clean ujp and head over to maestro for dinner of grilled marlin, rice, local salad and Wendy’s home baked cookies. Plus champagne, of course.
January 18, 2009, St. Pierre
Sunday. St. Pierre is for all intents and purposes closed. The French seem to take their Sunday’s seriously. We pick up the Maestro’s in our dinghy at 9:30 and go ashore. There we meet Dave and Jan from Deja Bleu, a very interesting and seaworthy appearing power boat we have now seen in several harbors. They built it themselves and, unlike most self-built boats, it has all the bells and whistles. Both Dave and Jan really know what they are about. Elisabeth sets off in a fruitless search for fresh croissants. She goes all over town and returns with a baguette and 2 sticky buns (yesterday’s, of course). We walk with Sam and Wendy up a steep road up the cliff behind town to the statue of the Virgin Mary that sits high on a point overlooking the harbor. Spectacular view! Sweaty walk! We return to town to check out the tourist office for tips. Closed, of course. We find an unprepossessing little restaurant on the beach across the road from the Laundromat that surprisingly is actually open. We have omelettes and pizzas that far surpass our expectations. We walk back to the town dock – which by the way was recently torn up by Hurricane Omar, and which has “no entry” signs and a big fence that everyone blithely ignores as they climb out on the remaining concrete structure to the only place in town where you can tie up a dinghy. We drop Sam and Wendy off at Maestro, agree to meet in a couple of days in the baie de Fort de France, and return to Singoalla for a lazy afternoon. Yes, even Elisabeth can have one of those occasionally. A swim and shower really feel good. Dinner is grilled marlin in the cockpit. We are entertained by the attempts of a couple of late arrivals to find suitable anchoring spots – reminiscent of our night-time arrival a few days ago. We decide we are too tired to watch a movie and fall blissfully asleep.
January 19, 2009, St. Pierre
Elisabeth performs her magic with stale French bread to make French toast covered with marmalade and sliced bananas. We wave goodbye to Maestro on their way to Trois Ilets, and take the computer ashore to update the blog. The Internet café is closed Mondays, so we buy fresh bread and take it and the computer back to Singoalla. We then walk up to the Volcano Museum to see pictures, newspaper articles and relics from the devastating eruption of Mt. Pelee in 1902 in which 22,000 people died. St. Pierre was the largest city on the island at the time, and was known as the Paris of the Caribbean. It is very moving, as is a visit to the ruins of the magnificent theater and the nearby police headquarters where one of the very few survivors had been incarcerated during the eruption. On a more uplifting note, we walk the 2 kilometers to the Distillerie Depaz, where there is a very interesting self-guided tour. We sample a few types of rum, buy an obligatory bottle, then eat lunch at the on-site restaurant. It is very attractive and we have an excellent roast chicken. On our way back we meet Michael and Jeremy from Splendido, a Beneteau 57 and one of the few US flagged vessels in the harbor. We walk back to town together, and they very kindly offer to bring over a book of local services available to yachts that they got from the tourist bureau. They join us on Singoalla for drinks. We are driven below by rain showers, and spend a pleasant couple of hours before they return to Splendido. We agree to meet tomorrow in Fort de France.
January 20, 2009, St. Pierre – Fort de France
Inauguration Day! We depart about 8:45 for Fort de France under full main and genoa. After an exhilarating departure at about 7 knots, the wind goes fluky in the lee of the island, so we roll in the genoa and motor sail (mostly motor) for about 6 miles. As the Baie de Fort de France opens before us the wind steadies and we sail the final five miles – a beat in flat water and 20 knots apparent wind. We are able to time our tack to split the difference between 2 rain showers and stay dry. We anchor a little behind Maestro who have arrived earlier. They are on their way into town to find a TV to watch the inauguration. We lend them our hand held VHF so they can call us when they have found a suitable place and we can join them. We go in for lunch at les Croisieres, which has a projection TV. Unfortunately, Obama’s speech is muted in the background and all we can hear is the French translation. With the noise of the other diners it is hard to follow the French, but we feel like we are a part of history anyway. It is fascinating to see the rapt attention of all around us – whatever race or nationality. After lunch we go to Sea Services to look for a replacement bolt for our throttle. No luck – they have only metric sizes, but we get the name of a mechanic who may be able to help us. Splendido has arrived in F de F and we run into Michael and Jeremy at Sea Services. They invite us all to dinner on Splendido. After Elisabeth finds a travel agency to arrange her trip home via St. Maarten, we return to Singoalla and read for awhile. A French catamaran anchors next to us, and we are worried that they are too close. They are not worried and happily get into their dinghy (after a very entertaining effort to get it off the davits and into the water), and head to shore for dinner. We row over to Splendido. They serve a very good shrimp and vegetables over orzo, which both Elisabeth and Wendy resolve to try soon. When we return to Singoalla, the catamaran is still next to us, still uncomfortably close, but at least we haven’t bumped.
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