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Cruising life in the Caribbean - Page 2

Martinique

Anse Mitan beach We spent most of our stay in Martinique anchored in the beautiful bay of Anse Mitan. This was a mile or so across the big bay from the main town in Fort de France, but the water was much calmer and the atmosphere much less hurried.
Nicky enjoys a reflective sundowner in a beach cafe, looking out at Rusalka and the other boats Sundowner
This was a thriving waterfront cafe a year ago......until hurricane Lenny sent waves of ferocious proportions through its walls...
A year ago, this was a thriving waterfront cafe. Cruisers anchored in the bay at Anse Mitan could bring their dinghies alongside the dock and step ashore for a beer or a meal. Hurricane Lenny did this damage in a few hours as ferocious waves a dozen metres high broke through and over the concrete, steel and glass. No-one has repaired it. We still use it as a dinghy dock, ignoring the dire 'Keep Out' warnings, but the echoes of the power of the sea are clearly to be heard among the twisted steel.Now, we still use it as a dinghy dock... and a place to think.
Jelena and Bertrand arrive to scrape and scrub our bottom To tell you the truth, we spent most of our time in Martinique with Jelena and Bertrand - long term live-aboards. We've known Jelena from years back in Jersey. We were too busy having fun and being normal to take too many photos of each other. Here, they arrive one morning on a surprise visit to scrub our bottom for us. They both snorkel and dive like native dolphins. We weren't much help, but we got in the water and did some easy bits!
Beyond the broken down dinghy dock, l'Anse Mitan is served by an attractive, modern tourist development. This is centred on the marina at Pointe de Bout. We found it delightful, especially the hummingbirds attracted by the nectar in all the flowers around the fountain. L'Anse Mitan is served by an attractive, modern tourist development
Hummingbird restingHummingbird, resting.

Dominica

Arriving in Dominica Dominica was easily the most unspoilt and the most friendly, truly welcoming island we visited in the Caribbean. It is also, clearly, the least developed and the poorest. As we sailed into the island's west coast we were struck by the scale and the grandeur of the forested mountainsides.
Dominica's Anchorage Hotel provides a superb welcome and facilities for the visiting yachtsman at very reasonable prices. Beyond Nicky lies Rusalka Mist and, unknown to us at the time, just to her right and slightly nearer is Plénitude. This is the yacht of our good friend the excellent French single-hander Gerald, not seen since Tenerife. Shhh, that's him just climbing up onto the dinghy dock now... The Anchorage Hotel, Dominica
The intrepid party look at a tree After the necessary greetings, Gerald invites us to join him and his two new friends (How does he do it??!!) for a hike into the rainforest the next day. Here we all stand in awe in front of our first real tropical hardwood. Left to right the backs of the heads belong to Nicky, Anabelle, Rosemary and Gerald.
The abundance and profusion of verdant growth was everywhere, from the forest floor... The forest floor
The forest skyline ...to the forest skyline. Some species were vaguely familiar as houseplants at home, but many shapes and silhouettes just take the breath away.
From the largest specimens to the smallest... Even the lichens and mosses were rich and lush and varied. A tree trunk
Nicky and Gerald take a breather during the climb Due to the mountainous nature of the landscape, we spent several hours climbing steeply. Here Nicky and Gerald stop for a breather amid the stunning surroundings.
Around mid-morning we came upon a local man, walking with his dog and his machette. He was very happy to lead us to his 'garden' (as he called the little area of the forest which he has taken to cultivating). There we were furnished with a fresh green coconut each. The water and jelly from this were more than enough refreshment for the climb. He would not accept a cent for these five nuts, insisting they were his gift. Grateful and humbled, we accepted his suggested directions and headed on up the track. Green coconuts, fresh from the forest
The ancient tusks of the forest - hardwoods The trail goes on and up and so do the trees - the venerable tusks of the tropical forest.
Early in the day we had heard the distant sound of a serious landfall high in the forest. The green coconut man was not surprised or perturbed by the news of this, saying we would be quite safe today. A major boulder had been stopped by this trail-side tree during some landslide of the past. We made plans to stand below the nearest tree at the first sign of any over-head rumbles. Landslide rock caught behind tree
Goat We came unexpectedly upon this goat tethered in the middle of the path. I think she was more surprised than we were. She nervously made plenty of room for us to pass.
Around another bend we came across this beautiful grove of bamboo within the forest. Mid-forest bamboo grove
Rosemary looks at tree... But it's the trees, really, isn't it? Here Rosemary looks at a tree and the tree looks at Rosemary.
As we neared the top of the climb, we could clearly see that we were at the top of the central 'spine' of the island, out of sight of Soufrière where we had started near the southern tip. The climb down the other side, to this village at Grand Bay, would re-connect us with public transport to get us home to the boats. The view from the top
Black-Eyed Susan Near the top, the damp air was a welcome few degrees cooler. The ground, where the cover was more open, was littered with these brilliant little flowers. Called Black-Eyed Susan, the depth of the black in the centre is only explained when you realise that it consists of nothing but a deep hole, right back to the stem.
On the way down the road to the village, we met and chatted to dozens of local people. We bought some fresh-picked carrots from one, marvelled at the Jersey bull another had on a chain (held at bay by the machette in his other hand!). We met the local school teacher and compared the merits of our island and his island. We declined any of the lorry load of fresh fish being advertised by loud drones blown from a conch shell. We could have spent all day with any of them. Indeed I felt we could have moved into the community that day and been amply looked after for ever onwards. Donkey


Antigua

English Harbour, Antigua During the time that we were anchored in Falmouth Bay, Antigua, Classics Week wound up and Race Week 2000 got into full swing. We were not involved in the yacht-club jolly-hoo-hah that all this entails but it meant that both Falmouth Bay and this, neighbouring English Harbour, were full of an ever-changing variety of craft, ancient and modern. The dock-sides were a-bustle with vendors and organisers, local and foreign, trying to make the most of these precious, high-season weeks.
A silent cannon from the time of Nelson's Navy looks out over the carbon and kevlar which gathers for Race Week. From the battery at English Harbour
Turk's Head Cactus The forebears of these Turk's Head Cacti have seen it all from their lonely perch looking out towards French Guadeloupe. The Napoleonic Wars may be over but great contests for supremacy still go on out there.
On the narrow strip of land between English and Falmouth Harbours, the British Navy established a thorough and thriving dockyard at the turn of the 18th and 19th Centuries. The building on the left here was a mast and spar loft. The very small tidal range makes for beautifully easy access to the harbour. The mast and spar store
courtyard From inside the cool shade of the mast and spare store we look out onto a beautiful tropical couryard. The dockyard fell into disuse and disrepair as the 20th Century changed British military priorities. The people of Antigua began buying it up and renovating it, building by buidling to begin with, in the 1960s.
The Copper and Lumber Store has become a very welcoming and well appointed hotel. The bar and its bar-meals became a central part of many of our days exploring around here. The Copper and Lumber Store Hotel
The sawpit Tree trunks, floated across the harbour from the ship which brought them from some now extinct local forest, were carried the short distance up to the saw-pit building. Here two men, the unlucky one working underneath the log in the pit itself, wielding a handle each on a massive double-ended rip-saw labouriously hacked the wood into 2, 3 or 4-inch planks (50, 75 or 100 mm thick). This is the oldest building in the dockyard today.
While their ships were being careened to clean and repair the bottoms, repaired or rebuilt after skirmishes with the French or refitted after the ravages of time or the caprices of the ocean had taken their toll, the officers lived in a style to which, we can only imagine, they had become quite accustomed. Oficer's Quarters


On board Rusalka Mist: Preparing for the Atlantic again

Restitching the Mainsail, Falmouth Harbour, Antigua Meanwhile, time was running out for Rusalka Mist in the Caribbean. Last-minute repairs, including hand-stitching some minor damage on one of the mainsail's batten pockets, were starting to occupy our minds. Restocking our victual lockers was a priority too. We were getting ready for our second Atlantic crossing in the space of about four months. Our year was running out and it would soon be time to sail her home to the UK again.
Eventually, the last evening is upon us. All our stores are stowed. All our goodbyes are said. Nigel climbs down into the dinghy for the last time in Caribbean waters, and looks back up at Nicky. Once the boat is put away we really will feel like we've left already... Nicky, ready to leave for the Atlantic again
Nigel, ready to leave for the Atlantic again Nicky looks down as Nigel gets all the ropes, the oars and engine off the dinghy and ready to pass back up - as well as that last 30 litres of fresh drinking water. Tomorrow morning up comes the main anchor, and maybe a month from now we'll see land again - in the Azores.