Fair Winds

This was the longest leg of the journey – over 50 miles to Rodney Bay in northern St. Lucia. Just time to grab a cup of coffee before hoisting the sails at 7:00 am. No squalls today. Blue skies … winds were a constant 20-25 knots… we had nothing to do! Watched the catamarans trying to deal with the big swells … dipping, wallowing and corkscrewing … bet there are some seasick passengers!

Amy asked if anyone wanted to go out onto the bowsprit … 6 volunteers, 2 at a time. Glen was in the second group. Me? … I was happy to be photographer. Well somebody should do it.

It was a long day … and darkness was drawing in as we anchored just outside Rodney Bay – the lights twinkling in the distance. No shore dinghy tonight — it’s too far. Just one more night aboard!

Next morning was a mixed bag of weather … sunny and hot one minute, downpour the next … but it meant more rainbows. We’ve seen so many this trip … wide, double ones, high arched, and today the lowest rainbow anyone had ever seen.

As the call came to haul in the sails, the the wind picked up, the skies opened and everyone was immediately drenched. Wet ropes were horrible to handle, and remarkably slippery if one happened to step on them. With everything secured … Alex and Amy looking like drowned rats from climbing the rigging to lash the sails, we all gathered inside for a well-earned cup of tea and the last of Sebastian’s kuchen. So far we’ve devoured, lemon, chocolate, coconut, pistachio, vanilla and ginger.

Just before dinner, a gathering of ship’s company and guests was planned to toast the voyage, but everyone dived for cover as yet another tropical shower lashed through … huddling under the canopies mid ships to avoid the worst. Enjoyable never-the-less.

Dinners throughout the trip just kept getting better and better, but this evening Sebastian surpassed himself. An appetiser of perfectly cooked bacalao sitting on a bed of pureed peas and cream sauce, followed by a salad, barbecued ribs and smashed potatoes drizzled in butter and parsley, … then finished with sweet little dough balls. Beer and wine flowed, as did memories of the trip … there will be a group photo tomorrow before everyone departs.

Next morning we gathered aft beside the helm … tall in the back, short in the front (although why our young lady from USA decided to bury herself way in the back, is a mystery) Several attempts were needed as Moritz’s phone kept toppling onto the deck at the crucial moment! Hilarity and derision ensued!

Passports were returned, baggage hauled up on deck and those catching ferries, planes etc. were shuttled over by Alex in the dinghy. We weren’t in any great hurry as we couldn’t pick up our car until noon. Just as well, because we saw the new Captain arrive. All most of the crew knew was that he had mutton chops … and that he did. Standing in the dinghy’s bow like a figurehead, he hoisted himself aboard and took stock of those aboard. Unruly hair secured with a woven headband, glorious whiskers and a piratical left-eyed squint. Introduced himself to us (Pitt), greeted old friends with hugs and disappeared into the Captain’s cabin for de-briefing. Our dithering co-passenger, immediately put his foot in it by referring to him as “Skipper” and Eye-of-the-Wind as a boat. “Boats are what ships carry, and Skippers are only found on fishing boats, pleasure craft and those ‘orrible white plastic rubbishy things!” replied the Captain, succinctly. He had been told! <grin>

Our turn came. We climbed over the side for the last time into the waiting dinghy … there should have been five of us, but the usual suspect was missing … apparently he asking the new Captain’s advice on a future tall ship voyage. I wonder if he’ll make it the the car hire place before it closes??

We trundled our way along the uneven sidewalks in a rather circuitous route … shorter would have been along the beach but the suitcase wheels wouldn’t have been happy. A typically impersonal French clerk behind the Budget Rental desk … was disdainful that we actually had enough insurance, but in the end knocked off 35 euros because we picked it up in town as opposed to the airport. We’ll take it. The fellow behind us was from Quebec … he’d sailed all the way down the US eastern seaboard, and would be around the Caribbean until September when he’d sail home – this time single handedly.

Careful photos all around the car, noting previous damage … and we were off.

First stop would be a grocery store … a supermarche or an epicerie … Oooh look, there’s a boulangerie and patisserie right next to a fruit and veg shop. Well … we had to try out our Duolingo French, didn’t we? Une tarte au Citron et une almondine, s’il vous plait. Deux baguettes (one never lasts) … et un sandwich avec jambon et tomate. Everything showed up as asked. Yes! Just as I placed these lovingly on the back seat, thunderous rain drummed on the roof and I ran for the veggie shop.

The sandy beachfront area was lined with canopy-covered restaurants all seemingly advertising Lagostine platters for exhorbitant prices … but there were some toilettes handy, which were greatly appreciated. As was our ham sandwich on brioche bun, which we munched in the car.

Groceries procured we went in search of our apartment. The rain continued … not a great start to our time on Martinique. At times the road became a switchback, climbing round one hairpin, then another. Lush vegetation in every shade of green … “Bet those views are something on a clear day” said I, wistfully.

We were still too early for entering the apartment (at 4pm) so stopped at a pretty fishing beach in Les Anses d’Arlet just along the road … and as the weather brightened, we went for a stroll. At 4pm precisely, the apartment driveway was located … and what a driveway it was. Mountainous, almost … bisected by an automatic gate, which at this point was firmly shut. No response to the buzzer … no reply to our What’s Ap … Hmmm. Ten minutes later a personage appeared on the balcony and waved us in as the gates majestically swept open. We took a run up the slope and squeezed into the postage-stamp-sized spot allocated (there were two other cars already there). How we’ll get out again I have no idea.

Jocelin and Marie seem very nice, but once again our French was tested as they had no English. Coffee, Water, jam, butter and fruit had been left for us — “keep the bananas in the cupboard or the birds will eat them!” … but oddly no washing up liquid, a single, slightly diminished toilet roll and only two towels – no hand towel. Oh well. A What’s App query brought Jocelin over with dish soap … and a dish of homemade accra (deep fried cod balls) … a National snack here on Martinique. Tasty.