All's Well That Ends Well - Anchoring in Les Saintes

We did our homework and read up on Les Saintes, our destination between Dominica and Guadaloupe. We knew in advance that it is a very popular stop for cruisers. Unless you arrive before mid-morning, it is unlikely you will find a mooring ball to hook up. We weren't going to arrive in Les Saintes until supper time, so we expected to anchor and were prepared.

Our first attempt at anchoring with our new boat was back in Le Marin, Martinique. Our anchor chain is rusty and a little corroded, which makes it difficult to glide smoothly out the anchor "track." Our inspection noted this and we knew it would need to be replaced eventually. However, in Le Marin, we anchored without difficulty. 

Our boat is equipped with a windlass, an electric system which lowers and raises the anchor and chain with a press of a button or two. The 250 foot chain is thick and weighs a lot by itself, not counting the anchor, and pretty impossible to raise by hand. So it's really necessary to have the windlass. 

When we arrived in Les Saintes, we tried two or three anchoring spots before we were confident that our anchor had dug in and was holding. Each time we tried anchoring, the anchor chain gave us problems. It came off the main gear, jumped the track, and spilled all 200 feet of chain out into the water, without our being able to stop it. It was a very frustrating couple of hours and there were swearing and tears (Kent swearing, my tears.) We were so happy that we finally anchored successfully because the sun was setting and it got dark quickly. 

We enjoyed a nice BBQ fish supper on our stern deck, overlooking a 120 foot luxury yacht anchored a ways behind us. 

Then, About 10:00pm, we noticed that big yacht was Getting closer behind us! Our anchor had dislodged and we'd drifted back. Our drift happened very quickly. As we scurried to start the engines and take up the anchor, we could see the yacht crew come to the bow. They watched us as we scrambled to raise the anchor and move forward. 

We attempted to re-anchor several times. It was very dark with no moon, just stars for light. Each time we attempted to anchor, it jumped off the gear or simply dumped out entirely. And the anchor did not catch. Then, the worst happened. The chain had dumped and the windlass stopped working, meaning that we couldn't raise the anchor. We looked for a breaker and couldn't find it. 

So, at midnight, after continuous attempts to anchor with Kent at the wheel and me on the windlass, we had a decision to make and it had to be fast. We backed out of the bay into a larger body of water with islands around, dragging our anchor on 200 feet of chain. In rough waters and in the dark, I took the wheel from Kent and he gathered his tools: a large bolt cutter and a hammer. We'd made the decision to cut the chain at the top. It was a very tense and difficult half hour. Finally, the chain loudly slid off our bow and we were free of our chain and anchor. 

Our travails were not over. We turned the boat around and headed back into the harbor area. We had no anchor or chain, so we couldn't anchor anywhere. It was too dark to find the ferry dock or fuel dock, so we couldn't tie up. So, we circled around the harbor area in the open ferry way until 6am when we could finally see where we could go. We noticed a sailboat leaving her mooring ball in a nearby cove and we grabbed it. 

In the end, we were safe, our boat was undamaged , and our little dog was no longer terrified. But we were exhausted! We took an extra day and slept a lot. 

And we now have a brand new anchor and chain, with colored markings tracking depth, and we since learned where the breaker for the windlass is hidden. So all's well that ends well.

Les Saintes Islands - Skipped Prince Rupert Bay

Kent and I decided to sail beyond Prince Rupert Bay in northeast Dominica. We got an early start in the morning and if we sailed just a couple hours further, we could stay a couple of nights in the Isles Des Saintes. The Saintes are a group of tiny islands just south of Guadaloupe, after you've crossed the sea from Dominica. The only small town, Bourg des Saintes, is on the largest island, Terre d'en Haut. The Saintes are French with a strong link to Brittany in the north of France.

Les Saintes are different from many other Caribbean islands for several reasons. They are small, dry and steep with high cliffs and mountains reaching over 1,000 feet. There is no agriculture, no farming, no plantations. Slaves were never imported and inhabitants of African descent have only recently come to live there. The community used to rely almost solely on fishing for its livelihood and you can still see beautiful Breton-style fishing boats along the waterfront. Now, tourism is the main source of income.

The waterfront town is sparkling, colorful, and clean. From the water, you see red roofs, balconies, gingerbread-style details, and lots of flowers. Once you dinghy to shore, you find yourself on a narrow main road with lots of open-front boutiques and restaurants. There are sandy, white beaches. Ferries bring tourists to the dock from small cruise ships nearby, so there are times during the day when it gets crowded.

We had an interesting, very unpleasant, and exciting anchoring experience the first night we arrived there, but we'll save that story for the next post. But we really like Les Saintes and enjoyed our stay there.

Here are several pictures from our stay in Les Saintes...

Crossing to Dominica - Anchored in Roseau

In my previous post, I closed by saying we would head to Les Saintes islands next, but I had completely forgotten about the whole island of Dominica before we reached Les Saintes. We stopped overnight in Roseau, the capital, and planned to sail on to Prince Rupert Bay on the northeast side of the island the following day.

Not a great selfie, but here we are...still smiling after a tense bit of anchoring...

Our crossing from Martinique to Dominica was exciting and a great sail. We had beautiful weather, 15 to 20 knot wind, and 6-10 foot waves. We anchored off the waterfront at Roseau, too late to check in with Customs as it was a holiday. Dominica calls itself "the nature island" and has national parks for hiking, botanical gardens, and of course the famous Trafalgar Falls and Emerald Pool. Victoria Falls are the highest falls on the island and are said to be spectacular. It does welcome cruise ships, so there are plenty of tourists, but there are fewer resorts and is less crowded than some other places we've visited. However, we were so tired once we anchored and knew we were only stopping for one night, so we did not go ashore. We were also somewhat unimpressed with the shoreline where we anchored; it was not inviting and poorly lit. Very loud music blasted all night long from two nearby locations. We made ourselves supper on board, watched the sunset, and went to bed--oh, and we did laundry. The music did not stop until about 4:30a.m.

Even though we were tired, we did laundry and managed to get the sheets hung on the lifelines to dry, just before sunset.

Kent, below, making supper and mixing our favorite rum drink, Ti Punch, as he watches me hang laundry...

The following day, off to Prince Rupert Bay!

We've Left Le Marin - Off to St Pierre - Martinique

We've finally left Martinique. We were in Le Marin for about two months and while we would have liked to take off on our journey earlier, waiting gave us more time to learn about our boat's systems and make improvements. On Saturday, we filled our tanks, set sails and headed for St Pierre, at the northeast end of Martinique.

Au revoir Le Marin....

And hello, St. Pierre! St Pierre lies at the foot of the Mt Pelee volcano, not far from where European settlers wiped out the last of the Carib residents in 1658. Legend says that before the last ones died,
they uttered horrible curses, invoking the mountain to take revenge. Mt Pelee, as you would expect on Caribbean time, waited until Ascension Day, May 8, 1902. At that time, St Pierre was known as
the Paris of the Caribbean. The wealth of the island lay in the plantations and the richest surrounded St Pierre. Minor rumbles started in early April and the volcano spewed ash on April 23. In the meantime, thousands of people who had left their villages came to the capital thinking they would be safer. Evacuation was not an easy option: roads were primitive and ferries did not have the capacity. Once the volcano erupted fully, 29,933 people had died from ash, rock, mud, lava and boiling gasses. Twelve ships were destroyed in the harbor. Only two people survived: a cobbler and the famous Cyparis, a murderer in a stone cell.

Many ruins remain and supposedly, structures built after the disaster were built with a wall from pre-eruption. The town was ultimately rebuilt but the capital was moved to Fort de France, and St Pierre never regained its status as social, cultural and commercial center of Martinique. Here is a picture of the old fort ruins.

There is a beautiful church in St Pierre that still holds services and is open for visitors. Built in the mid-1600s, it was nearly destroyed by the volcano in 1902 but has been slowly renovated and restored. My pictures don't nearly convey how stunning it is inside, with its stained glass, carved wood, arches and inlaid tiles.

Our next destination is Les Saintes, the a group of very small islands north of Martinique and south of Guadaloupe!

On the Dock or On a Mooring Ball?

For the most part, Bangarang is moored in the middle of the harbor. That means we need our dinghy for transportation to and from land. In the picture below, who is dinghy Captain and who is the Admiral?

Our "parking lot" when we go ashore...

When we first got on our boat in Martinique, we thought we'd want to occasionally pay a little more for a spot on the dock. The extra cost buys you unlimited access to fresh water, electrical hookup, and ease of getting to shore. Then, recently, Bangarang spent a few days at the dock so that Kent could more easily clean and refinish our teak deck, stairs and deck table. He needed access to the water hose for that job. Our boat has a water maker and a generator, so water and electric is not an issue. But for the teak job, we needed constant unlimited access for just 2-3 days.

What we discovered was that being on the dock isn't so great after all  and may not be worth the extra cost unless you have need it for a boat project. In the U.S., harbor docks almost always have finger docks: docks that are built off the main pier between the boats, affording easy entry to each boat. In Martinique and in many places in the Mediterranean, there are no finger docks. Boats are backed up, stern in, so that you can enter and exit your boat easily. The bow is too high to allow access to and from the dock. No finger docks means that boats are right up against one another, separated and protected by fenders. There are about 300 boats at the docks. It's a lot more crowded, noisy, and less private! It's also much less breezy closer to shore, so that means a hot boat. 

So, as nice as it may sound to enjoy unlimited water and electric, we've decided we like our mooring spot in the middle of the harbor. Better views of town, the sunsets, and the boats coming and going through our channel.