Dominica And Quelques Iles Françaises

The famed Diamond Rock in the background. Southern Martinique.

We left Frank and Diane at Antigua as they were busy decommissioning Utopia for a summer and autumn on the hard. They are flying back to New York, where they will rest up and spend some time with family. We really enjoyed cruising with those two and will miss them. We did a lot of exploring and crossed some potentially nasty stretches of water together. Hope we can catch up when their season resumes circa December.

Today, we are anchored in Le Marin lagoon in southern Martinique. We've been traveling in company with Larry and Debbie on the trawler Tropical Blend since leaving together (coincidentally) from Antigua en route to Guadeloupe. I say coincidentally, but really there's not much serendipity about such things -- everyone is looking at the same weather and when it looks good (on average about one day out of a week), most people scatter to the winds.

We seem to share some of the same interests and outlook with Debbie and Larry and under normal conditions their Nordhaven 43 and our Tayana 37 seem to make about the same speed whether we are sailing or motoring. So, it's a pretty good match all around.

On the Antigua to Guadeloupe run we were both struggling a bit against short chop. At one point on the passage, Noi turned around and noticed several of our plastic jerry jugs drifting off into our wake. Somehow they'd worked loose from what I thought was a foolproof tie-down system I had engineered before leaving Antigua. The conditions would have made it difficult and/or dangerous to retrieve them, so all we could do was get on the VHF and warn Tropical Blend -- about a mile behind us -- not to run them over. Debbie had already caught sight of them and remarked to Larry about how well marked the fish nets were, as normally they are little more than a couple of plastic water bottles lashed together.

We arrived in Deshaies and checked in. It was probably the simplest clearing of customs and immigration we have ever had. The whole thing was done on computer in a local souvenir shop amid women's swimwear, hand-made bracelets and various bric-a-brac. The proprietor/customs agent didn't even stamp our passports! Deshaies is a cute little town, "little" being the operative word.

We didn't get much exploring done in Guadeloupe, but hope to do so on our way back north in the winter. However at the next island, Dominica, we took a few tours and got to see quite a lot. It's simply spectacular -- lush with flora of every variety. In fact, Noi and I agree that it's our favorite spot thus far. We went up the Indian River, which flows into Portsmouth harbour, which was fascinating. Among other things, some of the scenes from one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies was shot there. We also took a driving tour with Larry and Debbie around the island, including the Atlantic Coast -- a trip which left us awed in the true sense of the word.

Post-card perfect: the stunning windward coast of Dominica.

When we arrived in Portsmouth, we got our first taste of the "boat boy" culture. As we approached the harbour, we could see a small yellow wooden skiff loitering at the edge of the bay and we were soon approach by Titus on Lawrence of Arabia. Titus offered to show us a mooring and to help with any arrangements for tours, as well as the daily necessities, such as water, ice, fuel, etc. Later that day as we dinghied back from clearing customs and immigration to our mooring (quite some distance), our tiny outboard quit and could not be restarted. I was fully prepared to row back, but when a man named Bonti in a black boat offered to tow us back, that suited me just fine. We offered him the equivalent of USD$5 for his trouble and inadvertently accepted a guided river tour from him. I suspected this was going to be a problem, and it was. Next we saw Titus, we tried to explain the arrangement, but he was having none of it. That's not protocol and Bonti was an usurper, he insisted. It finally got straightened out, but not without some hard feelings on Bonti's part.

Indian River, Dominica.

A few days after arriving in Portsmouth, I was sitting in the cockpit of Symbiosis when the most derelict-looking small sloop came peeling down the bay, expertly sailed between the moored boats by a scruffy 20-something in a straw hat. The 27' boat -- topsides streaked with black marks -- belonged to single-hander Sean. Sean, we later discovered, had sailed west from San Francisco seven years earlier and was now three-quarters of the way around the world. We had him aboard for dinner one night -- a likable enough guy, but at nearly 30 exhibiting the quirks we've started to recognize in the long-term solo sailor. Let's just say that reintegrating with "the real world" (whatever that is!) would be difficult for him. He doesn't seem to be in any hurry to do it, either.

Soursop. A peculiar but delicious fruit. Portsmouth, Dominica.

On the same day, our dinghy worked loose from a perfectly tied clove-hitch and started drifting out of the harbor. Noi spotted it and yelled instinctively "Get it!" Without thinking, I dived in and swam as hard as I could toward it, which for me is not very fast. But with the wind and current heading out, I soon realized it was a lost cause. When I saw a neighboring boat launch its sailing dinghy to recover our hapless dink, I turned back with some relief. Now, however, I was fighting the wind and current on the return. I barely made it back, grabbing a line Noi had thrown for the last few feet.

Jahn returned our dinghy and we decided to repay the favor with an invitation to sundowners. Jahn has been sailing the Caribbean islands for the past dozen years and turned out to have some valuable insights for us. He also has bought a small parcel of land on Dominica and, along with his wife (who returns to Germany for several months a year) expected to settle there eventually. He took Noi, Sean and myself out to see the land and we helped clear out some wild lemongrass for some new plantings.

From Portsmouth, we hopped down the coast with Tropical Blend to Roseau (pronounced ROSE-oh), the capital. En route to Roseau, just 15 miles down the west coast, we managed to rip our mainsail again, this time straight across -- a tear that encompassed the old repair and then some. It was my fault (Scott's). I released a cam cleat that holds a reefing line, but didn't notice that it had somehow reset itself while I was raising the main. When I felt resistance, I should have stopped cranking the winch, but I didn't. We've swapped it for our old backup main and are planning to have the repair down in St. Lucia.

After a few more days, it was off to the French island of Martinique. The best part about that passage from Dominica to Martinique was finally getting our Aries windvane self-steering to work! Sean and Jahn both had experience with windvanes and gave us a few pointers to make the linkage from the vane to the helm work. I (Scott) experimented with it and did some tweaking. After about 20 minutes of fiddling, it worked! It steered the whole way on a close reach. Here's a video of the Aries in action!



Before we departed Portsmouth, Jahn had insisted that St. Pierre in Martinique was a decent anchorage. But reading the reviews on Active Captain was not too encouraging. There is a very narrow shelf suitable for anchoring very close to shore and then a steep drop off into quite deep water. The reports of holding were only "fair" with caveats about dragging anchor. If the anchor dragged and fell off that steep ledge, it would obviously not re-set itself. Worse yet, it would probably be unrecoverable. But the good ship Tropical Blend was keen on going there -- it would make the trip from Roseau more manageable rather than going all the way to Martinique's capital, Fort de France on the southern tip of the island. So, we decided to try it. There was one report of the nearby beach being a better anchorage and while doing some research in other guidebooks, Larry also stumbled on this alternate spot at Anse Turin. It promised a much wider shelf with sand and mud and good holding. It turned out to be an excellent choice. The beach was not too far from the town and the holding was indeed very good. The only problem we had was on Saturday morning when some local fishermen asked Tropical Blend to move so they could run their enormous net out. Apparently Symbiosis was OK and Larry and Debbie just moved their boat over a few hundred feet.

St. Pierre is a charming town. It has gradually recovered since a massive and sudden depopulation in 1902, when a volcano (Mt. Pelee) erupted hot gas, killing all but two of the approximately 30,000 residents -- one of them a prisoner whose cell apparently saved him from death. There was little or no lava flow, however, so the volcano had the effect of a neutron bomb, wiping out the people but not the buildings. Now it is again a going concern. A bit sleepy for sure. "Quaint." The Saturday vegetable market is a great place to stock up.

From St. Pierre, we made another (squally!) jump down the coast to Grand Anse d'Arlet, a beautiful little bay with an abundance of sea turtles. From there, we rented a tiny Renault Clio with Larry and Debbie, and with yours truly at the helm, made our way into Fort de France for some major-league victualing.

"A real slog" from Grand Anse d'Arlet to Le Marin, Martinique. Photo courtesy Tropical Blend.

Then it was on to Le Marin. We expected it to be a short, easy passage down the coast, but it turned out to be a real slog. Steep and confused chop, wind and squalls. But we finally made -- wind on the nose nearly the whole way. We hope to depart from nearby St. Anne on Sunday or Monday for the 25 nautical mile passage to St. Lucia.