On Monday, we depart Prickly Bay and travel four miles east to Petite Calivigny
Bay on the south coast of Grenada.  Petite Calivigny is home to La Phare Bleu Marina, which will be our home port for the next week as we prepare Cutter Loose for yard
storage during the summer and fall.

The process of decommissioning involves servicing the engine, generator and
outboard motor, pickling the water maker with storage solution, cleaning strainers, replacing filters, removing sails and cockpit canvas, polishing stainless steel deck hardware and thoroughly cleaning every square inch of the boat’s interior.  Summers in Grenada can be extremely hot and humid.  One of our
major concerns is the potential for mold and mildew.

At 12 degrees north latitude, Grenada is said to lie south of the hurricane
zone.  Prior to Ivan’s arrival in 2004, Grenada had been hurricane free for nearly 50 years.  Ivan was a Category 3 storm when it made landfall on Grenada on September 7, 2004. Prior to Ivan, many of the local boatyards and sailors had become complacent about
hurricanes in Grenada.  Ivan was nature’s wake-up call.  Hundreds of boats were lost in Grenada during this storm.  Now, most boatyards in Grenada utilize steel cradles, tie-down cables and other effective damage prevention measures.  There is no question that Cutter Loose will be in harm’s way during the coming hurricane season.  We will hope for the best, prepare for the worst and make sure the insurance premium is paid in full.

After enjoying the simplicity of the cruising lifestyle for 188 days, our lazy routine has been rudely interrupted by work.  Every day from 8 AM to 5 PM, we attack the extensive decommissioning checklist.  One of the benefits of a slip in a marina is access to shore power in order to operate the air conditioning system during the heat of the day.  Usually, the easterly breeze renders outdoor tasks bearable. By 5 PM, it is time for our daily cooling off period in the marina’s swimming pool.

La Phare Bleu is an altogether pleasant environment in which to prepare Cutter
Loose for summer storage.  The marina offers views of waves breaking on two reefs at either side of the entrance channel.  The staff is helpful and friendly.  Our friend Staron, the dockhand, is a polite and capable young man who visits several times each day to say hello and check on our progress.  Since this is the summer season, there are only 20 boats in the marina and fewer than 10 are live aboard vessels.   Life here is pleasant and ultra-quiet.  During our stay, one of our goals is to consume the remaining contents of the fridge and freezer.  There are two restaurants on site should we achieve this goal before the end of the week.

The signature attraction at La Phare Bleu Marina is Vastra Banken, a steel Swedish
lightship built in Stockholm, Sweden in 1901.  Lightships are frequently named for the area that they protect.  Her last official assignment was Vastra Banken at 60 degrees north, 17 degrees east.  The owner of La Phare Bleu found her through a ship brokerage in Stockholm.  She was refurbished in Germany and shipped here in 2006.  At La Phare Bleu, she functions as a bar and an upscale restaurant as well as the marina’s shower facilities and restrooms. The view of the harbor from the upper deck is superb.

On station in northern Sweden

By Sunday, our mission at La Phare Bleu Marina is fulfilled.  Cutter Loose is clean and shiny, both above decks and below.  She appears naked as a jaybird, being stripped of sails. We will wait one more day before removing the cockpit canvas.  Come Monday morning at 9 AM, she has an appointment with the Travelift at Grenada Marine boatyard.

On Thursday morning we arrive at the Immigration office in the Hillsborough Police Station shortly after 8 AM.  The immigration officer is perched on the sidewalk in front of the office.  He advises that the office is being cleaned and asks us to return in ten minutes.  With his permission, we explore the downtown before clearing Grenada Customs and Immigration. 

Shops and restaurants on Main Street are just beginning to open their doors for the day.  There are a few shops geared towards tourists, but Hillsborough is largely an unspoiled seaside fishing village. 

Today is the final inter-island passage of the winter voyage of Cutter Loose.  We depart Hillsborough on the island of Carriacou at 10 AM and set sail for Grenada, the Spice Island.  Our destination is St. George’s, some 32 miles to the south.   

Unlike most days in the Windward Islands when the easterlies are blowing 20+ knots, today is a day for relaxed sailing with 10 to 12 knot winds on the quarter.  It is as if we are seniors in high school during those last few easy-going days before graduation.  The exams are over.  Our college plans are set. We are coasting to the finish line making 4 to 5 knots over ground on a gentle broad reach…plenty of speed to make St. George’s by late afternoon. 

The anchor is down at 5 PM near Ross Point in the outer harbor at St. George’s.  Actually, this anchorage is more of an open roadstead than a harbor.  Our objective for the weekend is to become familiar with St. George’s so that we will be able to provision the boat next December when we return here to begin another season of cruising.  The wind all but disappears overnight, replaced by a slight swell from the north.  In the absence of wind, Cutter Loose is riding to the tide.  At mid-tide, the swell is on the beam, creating a rolly motion and some sleepless moments in the forward cabin. 

Herman, the Information Officer of Grenada

On Saturday morning, we take the dinghy into Port Louis Marina to explore old town St. George’s.  While walking along the waterfront, we are intercepted by Herman, a well-dressed and polite middle-aged gentleman who introduces himself as the “information officer” of St. George’s.  Walking with us, he asks if we are enjoying Grenada.  Within a few minutes, he is into full guided tour mode.  Herman never hints that there will be a fee for his services.  Unlike the boat boy in Clifton, Herman is warm and friendly and eager to please.  He leads us past the fort to the cruise boat shopping area.  But there are no cruise boats today.  The cruise boat season has ended.  Local guides must snare cruising sailors in order to put food on the table.

Herman treats us to a full-fledged tour of the open air public market and the fish market.  We pause for lunch at a cafeteria-style Creole restaurant where the cricket game on the television has captured the attention of patrons.  Herman corrects our misguided interpretation of the Japanese-financed fisheries complex on the waterfront in St. George’s.  Japan’s motive is NOT to purchase fish from local fishermen.  Japan financed this structure to gain Grenada’s support for unrestricted whaling.  Apparently, there is an international fisheries organization whose members determine where various types and locations of fishing are permitted.  By financing the fisheries complex in St. George’s, Japan bought Grenada’s vote in support of unrestricted whaling.  Our time with Herman comes to an end as we must move Cutter Loose to a more protected anchorage.  We compensate him for his services and bid him farewell.

The anchor is up at 2 PM for the short hop from St. George’s to Prickly Bay on the south coast of Grenada.  En route, we briefly cross below 12 degrees north latitude, the southernmost point of our winter cruise.  In the island vernacular of Jimmy Buffet, we have arrived in those “little latitudes”.

Prickly Bay is a southern suburb of St. George’s and a haven for cruising boats.  At the head of the harbor is Spice Island boatyard, Prickly Bay Marina, a few restaurants and a Budget Marine chandlery.  From here, it is a ten minute bus ride to Spiceland Mall in the Grand Anse suburb of St. George’s.  Several U.S. style grocery stores are located in or near the mall, as are several resorts and the long white beach at Grand Anse.  Learning our way around this shopping area will pay dividends in December when we return here to provision Cutter Loose from scratch.

A short distance from our anchorage in Prickly Bay lies the campus of St. Georges University (SGU) .  SGU offers degrees in medicine, veterinary medicine, public health, nursing and business.  With an enrollment of 5,000 undergraduates plus 8,000 post graduate students and an academic staff of 850, SGU is a major economic force in the region.  University buses transport students from the campus to the shopping district.

SGU played an important role in Grenada history.  In 1979, a Marxist coup forcibly overturned the government of Grenada during which time President Eric Gairy was forced into exile in the United States.  At that time, the University was in its infancy.  All told, there were 1,000 U.S. citizens in Grenada when President Ronald Reagan launched Operation Urgent Fury in 1983.  The reason given by the Reagan Administration for the invasion of Grenada was the evacuation of American medical students at St. Georges University, four years after the coup.  Grenadians were amazed to witness air strikes and the arrival of U.S. landing craft on the pristine beaches of this tiny tropical island.  Apparently, the enemy consisted of a small number of Cuban soldiers clustered in a rural area of the island.  Many Grenadians still hold the United States in high regard as a result of Operation Urgent Fury.  Grenada is boat-friendly and fond of Americans.

The south coast of Grenada is a series of bays, each offering pristine protected harbors.  This is prime cruising territory.  Many cruising sailors spend the entire season on the south coast of Grenada.  From Prickly Bay, it is a 30 minute walk through a neighborhood of upscale homes to Secret Harbor Marina in Mount Hartman Bay.  The restaurant at the marina serves as the social hub for cruisers docked at the marina and anchored in the harbor.  When we arrive on Sunday, cruisers are playing Mexican train dominoes and talking about the schedule for live music at nearby restaurants during the coming week.  Many of them return to Mount Hartman Bay year after year. 

On Monday, we will move on to La Phare Bleu Marina to begin the process of preparing Cutter Loose for summer storage.  Before the work begins, we will enjoy one final night of relaxation on the hook in Prickly Bay.

Beach at Grande Anse

As it turns out, our anxiety about personal safety and security in Vieux Fort is unwarranted.  The only threat here was the squally weather that persisted for most of the night.  The anchor is up at Vieux Fort, St. Lucia at 6:45 AM on Sunday morning.  Our destination today is the small island of Bequia, about fifty miles to the south.  Bequia is part of the island nation known as St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

The island of St. Vincent lies directly on the path to Bequia.  Most boats sail past St. Vincent without stopping, due largely to its tarnished reputation as a place of unfriendly behavior on the part of some residents towards yachties.  For decades, stories about aggressive boat boys, dinghy theft, boat boardings and personal injury have persisted.  These rumors still circulate within the cruising community.  None of these warnings appear to be substantiated by fact, but who amongst us wishes to take the risk? To make matters worse, the St. Vincent restaurants and shops that advertise in the Windward Island cruising guide state that they patrol their moorings and dinghy docks to insure the safety of their guests.  This type of promotion further reinforces the existence of potential security problems.  As a result, our intended non-stop sail to Bequia is via the windward (east) side of St. Vincent, the shortest distance to our destination.

We have become accustomed to the reality that wind gusts will be highest and the sea state will be most confused at the northern and southern extremities of each island in the Windward Island chain.  Today is no exception.  Dark low clouds and drizzle remain from last night’s squalls, setting an ominous tone at the outset of today’s journey.  To add insult to injury, a two knot adverse current is seriously impeding our progress.  After an hour of battling the current, we opt instead to sail to Bequia via the leeward (west) side of St. Vincent.  This change in tactics improves our speed over ground dramatically while providing a glimpse of the harbors on St. Vincent’s west coast.  As predicted, there is not a single cruising boat at anchor in the harbors of St. Vincent today.  The island is steep, green, lush and gorgeous. How frustrating it must be for local restaurants, shopkeepers and other tourist related businesses to be unable to attract visiting yachts.  Hopefully, its image will someday improve to the point where cruising sailors feel comfortable calling at this beautiful tropical island.

Off to the Customs office in Bequia

Once south of St. Vincent, it is only seven nautical miles to Bequia.  Located in Admiralty Bay, Port Elizabeth is the principal town of Bequia and an official port of clearance for customs purposes.  Admiralty Bay is filled with cargo ships, ferries and cruising boats.  It is reassuring to be in the company of others in the waters of St. Vincent.  We opt to anchor in the less industrial part of the harbor near Tony Gibbons Beach, a decision we would later regret.  A local boat boy offers us the use of a mooring, but we politely decline.  We have heard that the private moorings scattered throughout the harbor are never inspected and that yachts sometimes are cast adrift from failed moorings in the middle of the night.  Under these circumstances, we opt to rely upon the security provided by our 88 pound Rocna anchor.  At 4:30 PM, the anchor is down just off the beach with the yellow Q flag hoisted to the spreader.  We will relax aboard Cutter Loose tonight and clear customs in the morning.

In the middle of the night, the wind subsides and a northerly swell materializes, seemingly out of nowhere.  In the morning, Cutter Loose, along with all of the monohull sailboats anchored nearby, is rolling from side to side.  Given the early start to the day, we are ashore in time for the opening of the Customs and Immigration office at 8:30 AM.  Bequia’s tiny Main Street is already humming when we arrive.  The open air market is filled with vendors and customers.  Taxi drivers are busy working the crowd at the ferry dock.  Even the local Pizza Hut is open for business at this early hour.

 Bequia is the northern gateway to the Grenadines and today is a delightful day for a sail to Tobago Cays, a National Marine Park located 25 miles to the south.  Clearance formalities and shopping behind us now, Cutter Loose is underway at 11:30 AM on Monday.  With 20 knot easterlies, it is a lively five hour broad reach past the island of Mustique (home to the rich and famous) and the island of Canouan, home to the Moorings charter boat facility.  Five miles further south is the island of Mayreau, the closest island to Tobago Cays.  Here, the navigation becomes more challenging as several separate islands give the appearance of being joined as one island until they are in close range.  Even with the electronic chartplotter, it is quite easy to become temporarily disoriented when attempting to discern which island is which from afar.  

Approaching Mayreau, we pass between waves breaking on Catholic Island and Baleine Rocks, then turn southeast towards the two small uninhabited islands of Petite Rameau to the north and Petit Bateau to the south.  Here we enter the National Park.  To the immediate east of these islands is Horseshoe Reef where waves crash furiously on the underwater coral.  Between Rameau/ Bateau and Horseshoe Reef is a small piece of heaven.  Anchoring inside the protection of a reef is an awe inspiring experience.  The unimpeded breeze blows steadily at 20 knots, but the water inside the reef remains relatively calm.  The constant howl of the wind taken together with the sound of waves crashing on the reef provides nature’s audio entertainment.  Despite the fact that the daytrippers and charter boats visit here from nearby Union Island and Canouan, the anchorage still seems wild and remote.  This is by far the most spectacular anchorage we have experienced during our winter cruise.  Regardless of the looming deadline ahead, we will absorb the beauty of this special place for another day.

As if to welcome us to Tobago Cays, a feathered friend joins us in the cabin for breakfast on Tuesday.  To celebrate our Tobago Cays anchorage, Pat has concocted French toast made with coconut bread.  Our  guest flutters through the companionway and proceeds directly to the galley where he/she perches on the rim of a bowl containing the leftover egg mixture.  All creatures on board Cutter Loose this morning are wildly enthusiastic about Pat’s creation.

This afternoon, we snorkel with green sea turtles at the turtle sanctuary near Baradel Island.  This area is marked by white floating buoys in order to prevent boats from anchoring in the sanctuary.  But in reality, sea turtles are visible throughout the Cays.  The turtles graze on underwater sea grass, then rise to the surface every few minutes to replenish their air supply.  Most of them have ID tags on their fins.  They mow the grass seemingly without regard to human intruders.  The water temperature today is perfect for snorkeling.  Unlike the Bahamas where the water can be chilly, we have not donned our wetsuits since arriving in the Caribbean.  Late in the afternoon, Mr. Quality comes alongside Cutter Loose in his skiff to inquire about our interest in purchasing a custom designed tee shirt.  Virtually all of the vendors operate under a nickname or alias, perhaps to create an identity for marketing purposes.  The vendors here in Tobago Cays are not pushy in the least.

Regrettably, we must leave this lovely setting on Wednesday morning to make southerly progress through the Grenadines.  The anchor is up at 8 AM. We retrace our steps to Mayreau Island, then turn south towards Union Island and the settlement of Clifton, an official port for customs clearance. 

This is a tight harbor, filled with anchored and moored boats.  A boat boy (actually a grown man) by the name of Tiger approaches us in his skiff as soon as we enter the harbor.  He smiles and welcomes us to Clifton and asks if he can lead us to a mooring.  He explains that the moorings are free because the town wishes to encourage visitors to return to Clifton.   We politely decline Tiger’s offer.  The cruising guide warns that moorings in this harbor are substandard.  As we circle the anchorage searching for a spot to anchor, Tiger points to an open area near the reef.  Once our anchor is down, he maneuvers his skiff alongside Cutter Loose and requests compensation for services rendered.  We explain to Tiger that we did not engage his services.  Tiger now plays the guilt card, insisting that had it not been for his services, we would not have been able to find a spot to anchor on our own.  We politely disagree.  Tiger is outraged.  Now he is shouting at us.  He wants us to believe that some harm could come to Cutter Loose if we do not pony up with some cash.  Perhaps his outrage is not an act.  Tiger feels strongly that he is entitled to compensation.  We agree to pay half of the amount he requested.   He takes the money and leaves in a huff.  

Panhandling and harbor hustling are a way of life here.  Just saying a polite ”no, thank you” to a panhandler or a taxi driver is generally sufficient to ward off additional solicitation.  The boat boys and tour guides, however, are more subtle and persistent in their technique.  They spring into action without having been formally engaged, sometimes causing visitors to feel indebted against their will.

As a visitor, one can choose to allow the experience of being hustled become a source of frustration.  Alternatively, one can accept it as a challenge to extract value from the transaction, to gain insight into the cultural territory and to contribute to the local economy.  We now know at the moment of initial contact that, without a doubt, we are about to be swindled.  The only question is how the scenario will play out in the end.  These scams usually involve just a few dollars.  After a while, it becomes a game of chance to see if it is possible to outmaneuver the hustler or escape the con.  Admittedly, our success rate at this game is abysmally low. 

After clearing customs, we take a stroll along the sole street in Clifton, purchasing fruit and vegetables from friendly sidewalk vendors along the way. We always make it a point to spread our meager purchases across several vendors. This village and the people who live here are struggling economically.  Other than cruisers calling here to conclude customs formalities, there is little semblance of a tourist economy.

The anchor is up in Clifton harbor at 2 PM.  Cutter Loose is bound for the island of Carriacou, some 14 miles to the south.  During this leg, we depart St. Vincent and the Grenadines and enter the island nation of Grenada and Carriacou.

The anchor is up at 7:40 AM on Monday in Sainte Anne, Martinique.  Our destination today is Rodney Bay on the island of St. Lucia, some 23 miles to the south.   As has been our experience here in the Windward Islands, the trade winds are in our favor again today.  A broad reach in 20 knots of wind places  Cutter Loose in her slip at Rodney Bay Marina precisely at noon.  We are escorted into the harbor by a junior tag team of dolphin.

This is our first marina experience since February 1^st at Nanny Cay when we stopped to bid farewell to Caribbean 1500 friends Ken and Laurie of Adagio.  Cutter Loose is equipped to cruise for months on end without visiting a marina.  However, she is pampered with maintenance during her stay at Rodney Bay Marina.  After a thorough wash, her topsides are compounded and waxed and the stainless steel deck hardware is meticulously polished.  It is nearly impossible to stay ahead of the cumulative effect of saltwater on deck hardware.  The powerful rays of the sun here have faded her canvas and gelcoat.  The Caribbean exacts its toll on boats that cruise these waters.   On the other hand, we are spending more time sailing and less time motoring, resulting in a 33% reduction in engine hours for our Caribbean cruise compared to last year’s trip to Florida and the Bahamas.

Neighborly Helen from Common Crossing

Time passes rapidly here at Rodney Bay.  Boat chores and provisioning are accomplished by day while socializing begins just before sundown.  There is a community of sailors from the U.S, Canada and the UK that make Rodney Bay their home away from home.  With reasonable dockage rates, floating docks, excellent security and an abundance of available amenities and services within walking distance, it is little wonder that this marina is a popular stop along the way.  Within hours after our arrival, we are invited to an impromptu dock party to meet some of our new neighbors.   As luck would have it, Helen and Peter from the UK aboard Common Crossing are docked next to Cutter Loose.  We have crossed paths with them continuously since St. Martin, but never had the opportunity to become acquainted.  We enjoyed our time socializing with them and hope to see them again next season.

In contrast to Martinique, Rodney Bay offers some of the best grocery stores that we have experienced since St. Martin.  The downtown area features two shopping malls, three modern grocery stores, a casino and dozens of restaurants.  From the marina, a five minute jaunt in the dinghy takes us to an intown dock located within steps of all the action.

There has been a distinct change in the weather here in paradise.  Several times each day, squalls bring high winds and heavy rain interspersed with periods of sun and clouds.  This is a departure from the five minute variety rain showers we have experienced thus far in the Caribbean.  Apparently, a stubborn upper level TROF in the southern Caribbean basin is not expected to disappear anytime soon.  Marine forecaster Chris Parker warns that there is the possibility of squalls every day for the foreseeable future.  Locals tell us that this weather pattern is more characteristic of June or July.  In Dominica, recent flooding and landslides have resulted in the loss of life.  Hiking to Victoria Falls and Sari Sari Falls would be inconceivable under current weather conditions.

Pittsburgh friends Tricia and Mark arrive at a nearby resort on Wednesday afternoon.  Prior to their arrival, we receive a special request from Tricia via e mail.  She and Mark wish to renew their marriage vows aboard Cutter Loose.  She wants to know if we can accommodate.  Special orders don’t upset us, especially in places such as Rodney Bay where English is spoken and supplies are readily available.  With ceremony script in hand and flowers and champagne chilled in the fridge, Cutter Loose is underway from her slip in the lagoon en route to Rodney Bay where we anchor in the company of several cruising boats near Pigeon Island.  Bride and groom are dressed in wedding attire. The foredeck ceremony proceeds without a hitch.  After the couple seals the arrangement with a kiss and an embrace, the anchorage erupts in cheers.  Later that evening, Mark and Tricia treat us to dinner at the Edge Restaurant.  During their stay, we enjoy meals, conversation and time spent together.  We wish them a lifetime of marital bliss.

The tempo of our winter cruise changes dramatically after our stay at Rodney Bay.  Gone are the days when we relax for weeks on end at anchor in an enjoyable spot.  We now have a date with the silver bird.  There is a considerable amount of work involved in preparing the boat for hurricane season prior to our departure on May 8th.  Cutter Loose is on a fast track to Grenada.  Under these circumstances, our remaining stay in St. Lucia will be brief.

After clearing customs and topping off the fuel tank with duty free diesel, Cutter Loose is underway from Rodney Bay Marina on Saturday morning, bound for the town of Vieux Fort at the southernmost extremity of St. Lucia.  The sky is overcast with intermittent rain showers.  The busy port of Marigot appears to be quite interesting from the cruising notes.  Several cruising boats are entering and leaving this harbor as we pass by. We make a mental note to call here on a subsequent cruise.  Twenty miles south of Rodney Bay, there is partial clearing in the sky as we pass the Pitons…two huge volcanic projectiles dramatically rising from the water.  A mile offshore, a boat boy comes alongside Cutter Loose in his skiff, welcoming us to paradise as he offers a mooring for the night.  It would be delightful to wake up tomorrow morning in the shadow of the majestic Pitons, but we feel compelled to move further south today in order to make for a shorter sail to St. Vincent and the Grenadines on Monday.

We are a bit apprehensive about anchoring in Vieux Fort for the night.  There was an alleged incident involving forced entry into a pleasure boat in this harbor while the owner was dining ashore.  Since we have already cleared out of St. Lucia, we will not be going ashore in Vieux Fort.  Besides, the harbor is well protected from the easterlies and today’s weather is deteriorating rapidly.  We are pounded by yet another squall three miles shy of our destination.  In the interest of safety in numbers, our strategy will be to anchor in proximity to other cruising boats.  Upon arrival, however, there are no other pleasure boats in the harbor.  There is a definite industrial feel to this place.  A small container ship is being unloaded at the deep water port.  Cutter Loose is the sole representative of the cruising fleet in this harbor tonight.   

The area of the Windward Islands south of Rodney Bay in St. Lucia to Bequia in the Grenadines requires vigilance. Documented cases of theft and personal injury aimed at pleasure boaters are rare.  In the immortal words of Ben Franklin, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.  Since St. Martin, our standard practice has been to chain the dinghy to the boat and lock all ports, hatches and companionway hatch boards before retiring for the evening.  Besides, the weather tonight is dreadful.  Presumably, petty thieves do not operate in pelting rain and wind.  By sunrise tomorrow morning, Cutter Loose will be underway to St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

At this stage of the voyage, it would be altogether natural for one’s focus to gravitate towards the finish line.  After all, it has been 173 days since we departed our home port of Rock Hall, MD last October.  In the past six months, we have visited 19 islands including each of the six islands that collectively comprise the French West Indies.  One might believe that repetitive arrivals and departures and the novelty of discovering volcanic islands that jut abruptly out of the sea may have become passé at this juncture. Yet during the past ten days, Martinique has cast its spell upon us. 

What makes this island so compelling?  For starters, there are sufficient cultural and language differences to impart the feeling of being in a very foreign place.  The combination of small seaside villages, a vibrant metropolitan capital city, a major yachting center and protected anchorages all contribute to making Martinique a highly rated cruising experience.

After six days of exploring the Fort de France area, including Anse Mitan and Trois Islets, Cutter Loose is finally underway again.  A short distance south of Fort de France, the small village of Grande Anse de Arlet beckons as an overnight destination.  To our surprise, the harbor is filled with free moorings for transients.  Obviously, this community is hospitable to cruising sailors. 

Since the mooring balls lack a pennant, the foredeck hand (aka Pat) is now lying prone on the deck, stretching to thread a bow line through the ring at the top of the ball.  These contortions attract attention in the harbor.  Nearby, a female single hander on a French flag vessel observes Pat’s struggle.  Within seconds, mademoiselle is in her dinghy and has both of our lines looped through the mooring ring.  She is a woman of few words due to the language barrier.  Mission accomplished, she offers a quick smile and a welcoming wave before returning rapidly to her boat.  

Serendipity is one of the most rewarding aspects of cruising. Just the other day, a French skipper steered his vessel within inches of Cutter Loose as we were getting underway with a knot or two of boat speed from our anchorage at Fort de France.  Given his facial expression, he was obviously irritated with us about something.  Our knee-jerk reaction that day was to negatively stereotype the French.  Today, we become the beneficiaries of a random act of French kindness.  Cutter Loose is the only U.S. flag vessel in the harbor today.  Perhaps our minority status in this area of Martinique has evoked this casual but generous gesture?  We must learn not to judge an entire nationality or culture based on the actions of a single insensitive individual.   

Ashore, Grande Anse de Arlet features an excellent dinghy pier, a beach, a promenade along the water and a dozen restaurants and small shops fronting on the promenade.  Tourists frequently stop here for lunch and a swim on the beach during their rental car tour of Martinique.  

From the waterfront, it is a short walk to the trailhead for Morne Champagne.  Our objective is an afternoon hike to the neighboring village of Anse de Arlet, a few miles to the south.  Two hours later, we are still climbing uphill through a natural drainage swale.  Obviously, we have taken a wrong turn inasmuch as our destination is nowhere in sight.  After an about face to the familiar territory of Grande Anse de Arlet, we pause for a beverage at a beachfront café before returning to Cutter Loose. 

On Thursday morning, we are underway for our 13 mile journey to the village of Sainte Anne on the south coast of Martinique.  Diamond Rock, a gigantic volcanic protrusion from the water, marks our turn to the east.  In the early 1800s, British forces established a fort on the promontory of Diamond Rock from which they harassed French ships bound for Fort de France.  To this day, the Royal Navy still considers “HMS Diamond Rock” as being in commission.  When passing, HM ships are required to show due respect, meaning that personnel on the upper deck are required to stand at attention and face the rock while the bridge salutes. 

From Diamond Rock, the final nine miles to Sainte Anne is directly into the prevailing wind.  The harbor here offers crystal clear water and protection from the easterlies, which afford swimming opportunities as well as calm nights at anchor.  The small village of Sainte Anne is a tourist destination with several patisseries and clothing shops.  Adjacent to the town pier are bars and restaurants that front on the water.  Late in the afternoon, these establishments become filled with patrons who come here to witness an outstanding view of the sun setting over Diamond Rock.  It is a short walk from the town pier past the colorful cemeterie to the beach north of the village.  The beach is an entertainment district unto itself, offering a variety of restaurants and watersports facilities.  The highly manicured Club Med Buccaneer Creek facility with its light green colored roofs is located just beyond the town beach.  Cruising sailors come here to relax and enjoy the slow pace of the village and its amenities.

On Saturday, Cutter Loose is underway once again to the nearby town of Marin.  The well-marked entrance to the Cul-de-Sac du Marin is strewn with shoals and reefs.  Waves break constantly on the shallow reefs on either side of the entrance channel.  Once inside, the harbor is an inland sea of masts.  We find an open spot on the north shore to drop the hook.  While our anchorage is close to the Leader Price grocery store dinghy dock, it is a 20 minute walk to the marina complex from here.

Marin is the Annapolis of Martinique.  For French sailors, Marin is holy ground.  If you live in Martinique and own a sailboat, or if you are a sailor living in France, chances are good that Marin is familiar territory.  Marin’s waterfront is home to a dozen charter agencies, yacht brokers, a vast array of marine services and supplies, a 600 slip marina, condos and a variety of eating and drinking establishments.  There are another 400 boats at anchor and on moorings.  Some of the anchored boats are obviously unoccupied and visited infrequently.

Clearing customs in Marin

On Sunday morning, we hike through town to the office of the Captanerie for the purpose of clearing customs.  A dozen pale white French skippers are already in line to use the clearance computers.  They are recent arrivals in Marin, setting off on a charter vacation to explore the islands to the south of Martinique.

After 15 days in Martinique, we will bid a fond farewell to this picturesque and interesting island.  On Monday, we will set sail for Rodney Bay, Saint Lucia.

Abolitionist Victor Schoelcher

On Wednesday afternoon, the anchor is up in St. Pierre. Cutter Loose is bound for Fort de France, about 15 miles to the south. Since it is late in the afternoon, the decision is reached to anchor for the night in the town of Schoelcher, a northern suburb of Fort de France. Victor Schoelcher devoted his life to the elimination of slavery and an end to French colonialism. As such, he is a national hero. Slavery was abolished in Martinique in 1848. Statues and buildings named in honor of Schoelcher can be found throughout Martinique.

On Thursday morning, we move on to the designated anchorage area next to Fort Saint-Louis in Fort de France, the capital of Martinique. By far, Fort de France is the most highly populated area in the Eastern Caribbean. The population of the city of Fort de France is 94,000. Another 135,000 Martiniquais live in the outlying suburbs, which are extensively developed. The total population of Martinique is 409,000. To place this in perspective, the entire island of St. Thomas has a population of 51,000 of which 11,000 reside in the capital city of Charlotte Amalie.

La Savane

Fort de France is located in the northwest corner of an indentation in the west coast of Martinique that is nearly four miles from west to east and three miles from north to south. The Baie de Fort de France is a harbor with many sub-harbors, including a cruise boat terminal, a deep water container dock, islands, marinas, smaller suburban waterfront communities and resorts. All of these places are connected to Fort de France via ferry. It is not often that Cutter Loose is anchored in such close proximity to a major metropolitan city. Fort de France is quite accommodating to cruising sailors. There are no port fees and the huge dinghy dock is conveniently located next to a well-maintained and well-illuminated urban waterfront park known as La Savane. There is little wonder why cruisers are attracted to this area.

Headless Empress Josephine

In La Savane, there is a headless statue of Empress Josephine (wife of Napoleon) who was born on a plantation in the nearby village of Trois Islets. Martinique natives are not particularly enamored with Josephine since she was raised on a plantation that made use of slave labor. The statue was decapitated in 1909, but the head has never been replaced. Martinique officials fear that it would only be a matter of time before the new head would suffer the same fate as the original head.

The most visible form of development in the harbor is the new 20 story Pointe Simon waterfront condo/office tower, which is in the final stages of construction. Ashore, Fort de France is a mixture of old buildings in need of repair alongside new and renovated buildings. As is the case with all urban areas, some streets are downright seedy in appearance while other places are quite attractive. A multi-modal transit center on the waterfront functions as a place where ferries, buses and taxis converge.

Schoelcher Library

Schoelcher Library was built in Paris, disassembled, transported to Fort de France and reconstructed on a site next to La Savane. The former Hotel de Ville (City Hall) is being rehabilitated into a center for the performing arts. It’s courtyard connects to a popular intown shopping mall known as Cour Perrinon. Nearby, the French government is building a new federal appeals court.

Rue de La Republique

A pedestrian mall has been created on the Rue de la Republique which makes it an ideal location to pause for a café and a pain de chocolat while observing the passers-by. The bells of Saint-Louis Cathedral toll every 15 minutes and can be heard throughout town and across the harbor.

Fort de France is a vibrant city. Its narrow sidewalks are filled during daylight hours with vendors and consumers. Every night, there is some form of entertainment on the waterfront plaza. Sometimes the music is quite good. While cruise boats occasionally call here, the town’s economy is geared largely to local consumption. There are a few glitzy jewelry stores, perfume shops and t shirt stores near the waterfront, but most of the stores sell basic clothing and housewares.

There are several open air markets scattered throughout the downtown where fruits, vegetables and flowers are sold. Given the French emphasis on food and fresh ingredients, it remains a mystery that the three grocery stores in the downtown are amongst the poorest quality we have experienced in the Caribbean. We are told that the larger, more modern grocery stores are located in suburban malls.

With the help of the tourist office, we locate a bicycle repair shop in downtown Fort de France. The owner is a bon homme who speaks passable English. When he becomes lost in our conversations, he nervously summons the neighboring shopkeeper whose English is near perfect. There is no problem repairing the broken spoke and trueing the wheel. However, in order to reconnect the rear brake, a special cable is required which is not available in Martinique. He apologizes profusely as he jury-rigs a fitting for the rear brake. He explains that he is a professional and that he is disappointed with his work on the rear brake because it is below his high standards. He asks us to purchase a new brake cable when we are in the U.S. this summer and return to Martinique with the cable next year so that he can finish the job.

Fort de France bike shop

As is the case with most towns in the Caribbean, there is no public Wi-Fi in Fort de France. Internet service is provided by a handful of restaurants and bars where access is free with the purchase of food and/or beverage. This means that we routinely carry our devices ashore in a waterproof bag.

There is more English spoken here than in other areas of Martinique. Almost every shop or restaurant has at least one employee that speaks a few works of English. Fashion and music in Fort de France are decidedly more American than French. Shops gear their marketing and loud music largely towards the gangsta hip-hop preferences of the young men.  For mademoiselle, the emphasis is on day glow-colored, skin-tight clothing. Vive la difference!

Part of visiting new places requires a cultural adaptation to local toilette etiquette. For example, a trip to the rest room at the Cours Perrinon brasserie creates some anxious moments. In the traditional manner, there are two separate doors to the rest room…one for madames and the other for monsieur. However, once inside, both doors lead to a common lavatory area surrounded by a row of separate stalls that are used by both men and women. One’s initial instinct is to apologize and depart rapidly upon entering a rest room filled with members of the opposite sex. But here, the custom is to share and share alike. It is considered polite and appropriate to carry on cross-gender conversations at the lavatories.

On Sunday morning, April 7th, Erwan Tabarly (FR) crossed the finish line in Fort de France after 20 days and 22 hours to win the Transatlantic Betagne-Martinique single handed race. The Beneteau Figaro class race departed Brest, France on March 17th. Tabarly completed the 4,455 nautical miles with an average speed of 8.85 knots in his 33 foot one-design racing sailboat. The closest competitor arrived in Fort de France 35 minutes later. Gradually, the remainder of the fleet crosses the finish line, docking stern-to the quay at Pointe Simon. The accomplishment of these intrepid single handed sailors is nothing short of incredible. Yet their arrival in the harbor this morning goes largely unnoticed by Martiniquais.

Beneteau Figaro one design ocean racing machine

The real excitement today is on the beach near the dinghy dock where spectators surround a fleet of yoles. Yole racing is a national obsession in Martinique. Yoles are a traditional, round hull, wooden sailboat constructed from a hollowed-out tree trunk. They have no rudder and no keel. The boat is steered by a single rotating oar affixed to the stern. A total of fourteen boats are lined up on the beach for today’s competition. The colorful rectangular sail plan is rigged and ready to go.

Each boat has a crew of 12. Each yole is 30 feet in length and made of heavy wooden construction with hiking poles that extend outward on each side. Acrobatic crewmembers slide out to the end of the bamboo hiking poles to counterbalance the heeling motion of the boat. At the starting gun, there is abundant screaming and splashing on the beach as crew members engage in a concerted effort to launch their heavy boats.

At first, the fleet makes slow progress through the anchorage. As the wind fills the sails, the boats begin to move more rapidly and there is more shouting as the yoles weave their way through the anchored boats. After two windward legs and a downwind run, the final leg is a reach to the finish line at the beach.

Today, it is an exciting photo finish between the two lead boats. As the finishing horn sounds, there is a loud cheer from the winning crew and their supporters on the beach. After lunch, there is a second race. When the racing is over, the beach party begins and lasts well into the evening.

On Monday, Cutter Loose is headed south across the bay some three miles to the peninsula of Anse Mitan on the south shore of the Baie de Fort de France. Anse Mitan is a resort community with hotels, condos, a marina and a small, upscale business district with the usual collection of touristy restaurants and shops. As such, it is the Bainbridge Island of Fort de France.

Many cruisers prefer to anchor off the beach at Anse Mitan and take the ferry to Fort de France when the spirit moves. Bus service is also available from Anse Mitan to neighboring towns and Fort de France. A short bus ride away is the tiny village of Trois Islets, also fronting on the south shore of the Baie de Fort de France. Napoleon’s wife Josephine was born on the family plantation near here, now in ruins. We will resume our journey south on Wednesday. In the meantime, we will enjoy the pleasures of Anse Mitan.

Trois Ilets waterfront

The forecast calls for winds and seas to increase on Easter Sunday.  It would be fun to remain in Dominica for a few more days of hiking.  However, everything on the island will be closed until Tuesday.  In light of the weather, the decision is reached to leave Roseau and move on to Martinique in the Windward Islands.

The Customs office is located at the ferry dock on Roseau’s waterfront.  There is a question as to whether the office will be open on a holiday weekend.  The good news is that Customs officials are working on Saturday morning due to ferry arrivals and departures.  The bad news is that we are not permitted to enter the office until hundreds of ferry passengers have disembarked and cleared Customs.  The ferry is filled to capacity with inbound passengers that are visiting with family and friends over the long Easter weekend.  The streets near the terminal are packed with taxis and private vehicles awaiting their passengers.  There is a slow trickle of inbound passengers through the exit turnstyle, emerging one at a time from Customs, laden with suitcases, packaged gifts and household items.  Taxi drivers are busy hustling the crowd, looking for work.  Family members embrace as they are reunited, then scurry off to waiting vehicles.  After watching this scene unfold for nearly two hours, we are finally given permission to enter the office.  Customs officials are jovial, knowing that soon they will be able to kick back and enjoy the holiday weekend.  Within ten minutes, our clearance papers are stamped.  We are free to depart.

Cutter Loose is underway from Roseau at 1 PM.  Our destination is the small town of St. Pierre on the northwest coast of Martinique, a journey of 40 miles.  We must make rapid progress to St. Pierre in order to arrive before dark.  The wind does everything in its power to oblige.  Under a reefed mainsail, we are treated to yet another rollicking beam reach in 20+ knots of wind.  Cutter Loose is in her element.  She responds with boat speeds in the 7 to 8 knot range. From a pure sailing standpoint, it doesn’t get much better than the Eastern Caribbean.

Martinique is another volcanic island.  Mt. Pelée on the northern coast is clearly visible from a distance of 25 miles.  Once inside the lee of Pelée, the wind becomes fluky.  Now motor sailing, St. Pierre is visible in the distance as the sun falls below the horizon.  Water depths in the harbor are in excess of 200 feet.  Anchored cruising boats and local fishing boats are clustered together on a narrow 20 foot shelf along the beach near the dinghy dock.  Many of these vessels are unlit, as are the buoys in the harbor.  This situation calls for the braille method of anchoring, with Pat and her searchlight on the foredeck, warding off contact with moored fishing skiffs.  Maneuvering slowly in darkness, we drop the hook in 25 feet of water to the south of the dock.  It will be interesting to see our surroundings in the light of morning.

Given the holiday weekend, the Customs office here in St. Pierre is closed until Tuesday morning. Easter Monday is a national holiday.  All offices and other places of business are closed.  This is a time of private gatherings at the homes and restaurants fronting on the beach.  The music is loud.  Children play in the water while the adults eat, drink and converse.  Not to be outdone, Tom and Cary of Dragon’s Toy join us for Easter dinner and a game of Mexican Train dominoes aboard Cutter Loose.

Technically, we are not permitted ashore until Customs are cleared.  The French islands, however, are flexible on this rule.  Easter Monday is the perfect time to explore the town, given the absence of traffic. 

At 4800 feet above sea level, Mount Pelée looms over St. Pierre.  The peak of this volcanic mountain is almost always obscured by clouds.  On May 8, 1902, Mt. Pelée exploded, sending a giant fireball of superheated gas into St. Pierre.  Some 30,000 residents burned to death in this disaster.  The local scuba shop offers dives on the twelve ships that happened to be at anchor in the harbor during the tragedy.  The town has been largely rebuilt on the footprints of buildings that were destroyed by fire.  Vacant and charred foundation walls are still in evidence throughout the town, reminders of that fateful event.

The waterfront plaza near the dinghy dock has been refurbished as a public market.  The narrow one-way street pattern in St. Pierre remains intact.  The vibrant business district is filled with shops, restaurants and bars.  Despite the constant arrival and departure of cruising boats in the harbor, tourism is not a major industry here.  Some shopkeepers know a few words of English.  Our command of French is even weaker than their rudimentary English.  However, we have learned several key French terms that enable us to clear customs, find a Laundromat, ask for a Wi-Fi password and purchase groceries, drinks and meals.  Necessity is the mother of invention.

One of our favorite establishments is the restaurant, wine shop and Wi-Fi hotspot L’Alsace.  The proprietor is from Strasbourg, France.  His English is passable and the German food and wine served in his restaurant is quite good.  On the walls of his shop are poster size photos of Strasbourg, including river scenes and buildings with Tudor architecture.  From this depiction, Strasbourg gives the appearance of a place that deserves a visit.    

On Tuesday morning, it is time to clear in at the Tourist Office in St. Pierre which involves completing the now familiar one page form on the Customs computer.  Then it is off on a rental car tour of northern Martinique, including the mountainous, twisty roads around Mt. Pelée and the villages of Precheur and Morne Rouge.  The scenery in the mountains is attractive, but not quite as dramatic as that of Dominica.  Late in the afternoon, a stop at Distillerie Depaz provides further insight into the events of May 8, 1902. The entire estate of the Depaz family was destroyed by the eruption and rebuilt in the same location.  This facility gives the appearance of a manicured park rather than a distillery.

DePaz Estate in the shadow of Mt. Pelee

Wednesday is devoted largely to laundry detail.  One might ask, “how is it possible to devote the better part of a day to such a simple task”?  It is a 15 minute walk to the automated Laundromat from the dinghy dock.  Three loads of laundry require the equivalent of 30 U.S. dollars in Euro coins, but there is no machine on the premises to make change from bills. Three blocks away, there is a bank.  It has only one teller. I am 10^th in the queue to speak to the teller.  Each customer seems to have a personal relationship with Madame teller.  The conversations are lengthy and lively.  After 45 minutes waiting in line, I am told that the bank has no coins.  I am told that in order to obtain coins, a visit to a bank in Fort de France will be required.  A fellow customer overhears the conversation and directs me in rudimentary English to a different Laundromat on the opposite side of town that accepts Euro bills and provides Euro coins in change.  After returning to the original Laundromat, it is off to the alternate Laundromat with laundry bags in tow.  Sure enough, this facility accepts Euro bills and provides change.  About two hours are required to wash, dry and fold three loads of laundry.  By this time, it is midafternoon…time to pause for an espresso, purchase a baguette and check e mail at the local Wi-Fi hot spot.  From here, it is back to the dinghy dock for the return to Cutter Loose, just in time for a sundowner to replay the humorous events of the day.  Being on cruising time, we are rarely rushed to do anything.  Time here in the Caribbean is a less valuable commodity than in the U.S., the dividend of which is reduced stress and anxiety and the ability to enjoy unforeseen events.  Tomorrow, we will move on from St. Pierre to continue our coastal cruise of Martinique.

After a three day stay in Portsmouth, the next stop on our journey is Roseau, the capital city of Dominica.  The clearance procedure in Dominica requires a visit to the local Customs and Immigration office at the commercial port prior to our departure.  Here, we obtain a coastal cruising permit.  Customs officials explain that we will need this permit should Cutter Loose be boarded by Dominican authorities.  There is no cost for the permit, but it cannot be issued until our departure date from Portsmouth is imminent.  No one has an explanation of the intended purpose of the permit.  Since we have already cleared into Dominica, local officials already have a record of our arrival.  We are simply told that it is an official requirement for cruising boats.  For what it is worth, we are now in compliance with this requirement.

Today’s journey covers 18 miles along the dramatic western coastline of Dominica.  With 20 knots of breeze on the port quarter, it appears that we will have favorable sailing conditions for the short trip to Roseau.  However, the downdrafts on the lee side of a steep volcanic island are fickle.  Constant change in wind speed and direction are the norm.  Eventually, we abandon the headsail and motor sail under mainsail alone to the harbor in Roseau.

Just south of the cruise boat dock, we are intercepted by Pancho who comes alongside Cutter Loose in his skiff.  Pancho owns several moorings south of town near the Anchorage Hotel where the roll from the southwest swell is minimal.  His primary objective is to sell us a land-based tour to one or more of the island’s attractions.

Dominica is a hiker’s paradise.  The interior of the island is filled with mountains, canyons, rainforests, rivers, waterfalls and hiking trails.  Cruise boat passengers who have a limited amount of time in which to explore the island flock to nearby Trafalgar Falls.  The real scenery of Dominica lies beyond Trafalgar and requires more time and effort.  Based on the Hiking Guide to the Caribbean and the recommendation of cruising friends that have already visited here, we select Victoria Falls and Sari Sari Falls for our excursion.  Both of these are rated “3” on a difficulty scale of 1 to 5. Fortunately, there are eight other cruisers in the harbor that are also interested in this all-day adventure.  This reduces the cost to $75 EC (Eastern Caribbean dollars) or about $32 per person which includes transportation and a hiking guide.

Victoria Falls is probably the most impressive waterfall on the island.  The trailhead is near the Village of Delices, which is an hour ride by excursion van from Roseau on the southeast coast of the island.  Before commencing this hike, our tour guide reserves a table for lunch at the nearby dwelling and organic farmette of Moses, Jr., a gentle, relaxed Rastafarian mountain dweller in his late twenties.  This entire valley has been owned by Moses’ family for generations. 

The trail to Victoria Falls requires a one hour strenuous hike (one-way) through the rainforest along La Rivierie Blanche (White River).  A total of five river crossings are required to reach the falls.  At the very first crossing, we are immediately waist-deep in white water.  The current is quite strong in places. Unfortunately, I neglect to remove the camera from my shorts pocket.  It is soaked and inoperable.  Between river crossings, the hike is an exercise in boulder climbing and negotiating tree roots.  There is no defined path to the falls.  We would never be able to find the river crossings or the falls on our own without a guide. The absence of trail signage contributes to the local economy by keeping guides employed.  The rocks are wet and slippery from the abundant moisture in the rainforest, making the footing treacherous.

We are rewarded with a breathtaking view of the falls.  Surrounded by volcanic rock outcroppings, a river of white water plummets 300 feet from a cliff above into an emerald pool at the base of the falls.  It is windy and noisy here.  The air is filled with mist.  Our small group of rainforest trekkers admires the falls in silence before retracting our steps to the trailhead.

Lunch at Moses’ Rasta kitchen is a hearty meatless stew made from ingredients grown in his organic garden, including yams, plantain, dasheen, peas, carrots and lentils.  Lunch is self-serve. Just pick up a calabash bowl and a coconut shell spoon from the counter and fill your bowl from the huge pot on the burner.  Leftover stew from lunch will feed Moses’ family for the remainder of the day.  Within the Rasta community, a vegetarian diet is thought to contribute to longevity.  One recently deceased local Rasta woman lived to the age of 128.

After lunch, a thirty minute shuttle in the van takes us to the village of La Plaine and the trailhead for an afternoon  hike to Sari Sari Falls.  The hike begins with a steep descent to the floor of the Sari Sari River valley on steps carved from tree roots.  From here, it is a gradual hike in the river, up, over and through boulders to the falls.  Our guide is of the opinion that the hike to Sari Sari Falls is more difficult than the hike to Victoria Falls.  We’re still not quite sure if he is correct.  Although it is smaller in height, Sari Sari is equally as impressive as Victoria Falls.  At 6 PM, we return to Roseau, tired but fulfilled.  Stretched out in the cockpit of Cutter Loose in anticipation of sunset, we replay the events of this very special day in the tropical rainforest.   

From our mooring south of town, it is a 30 minute walk to downtown along a busy, dusty street with few sidewalks. Roseau is the primary port in Dominica for cruise boats.  The renovated waterfront dock is an expanse of open space with a few shops that cater to tourists.  On a bluff at the end of the waterfront opposite the cruise boat dock and the ferry terminal is Historic Fort Young which has been converted to an impressive hotel with several restaurants and conference rooms.  On cruise boat days, the waterfront is saturated with tourists, taxis and aggressive tour guides competing for business. 

Inland from the waterfront is the public market where fishermen sell their catch and mom and pop farmers display their fruits and vegetables.  The markets and grocery stores in downtown Roseau are crowded on Holy Thursday as Dominicans prepare for the Easter holiday.  All shops are closed on Good Friday, but re-open on Saturday morning. 

A contentious public policy debate is brewing in Dominica during our visit.  Apparently, the Chinese government is financing a $27 million public works project in Roseau that involves the construction of a a new state house.  When completed, this building will house many of the functions of Dominican government.  One of the stipulations imposed by the Chinese is that the building will be constructed with Chinese contractors using Chinese employees.  Many Dominicans are outraged that their government accepted these terms and conditions, since unemployment is such a major problem.  Other Dominicans feel that the need for a new hospital and new roads transcends the need for a new state house.  There is no shortage of strong opinions on this subject.

We have enjoyed our time here in Dominica.  The Dominican people are warm and friendly.  The scenery in the mountains and the rainforest is incredible…akin to spending a week in Jurassic Park.

An increase in wave height and wind speed is forecasted for the period Sunday through Tuesday.  The time has come to move on.  Saturday’s weather appears to be ideal for a sail south to Martinique.

The anchor is up in Saint Louis on the island of Marie Galante at 10: 30 AM.  Our destination today is the town of Portsmouth, Dominica, some 26 miles to the south.  Sailing conditions today are sublime, made possible in part by the wind angle between Marie Galante and Dominica.  Winds are in the 15 to 20 knot range out of the ENE…slightly abaft of the beam.  This is Cutter Loose’s sweet spot.  She powers through the wind-driven chop making 7 to 8 knots over ground.   Today is one of the best sails since we arrived in the Caribbean.

Approaching Portsmouth, the wind becomes swirly as we are greeted by Lawrence Roberts (aka Lawrence of Arabia) who brings his colorful skiff alongside Cutter Loose to offer us a mooring in the harbor.  We cheerfully accept the offer and Lawrence escorts us to our mooring.   Ironically, Lawrence now collaborates with another guide by the name of Uncle Sam.  Uncle Sam was our boat boy back in 1996 when we visited Portsmouth with Pittsburgh friends Chuck and Jeanne Berrington aboard IP 40 Relationship.  The boat boys are now middle-aged men, proudly carrying on the tradition.

Thus far on our journey, the notion of boat boys is a novelty.  Here in Dominica, it is customary to utilize the services of a guide.  Actually, it is more of a courtesy than an absolute necessity…a method of gaining insight into the local culture while supporting the  economy.  Lawrence and other legitimate guides here in Portsmouth have organized themselves into a type of cooperative called PAYS (Portsmouth Association of Yacht Security).  PAYS controls all of the moorings in the harbor and offers them for rent at a reasonable cost of $10 per night.  PAYS members take turns greeting new arrivals and providing security in the harbor at night.  For those boats that wish to anchor, the guides help them find a good spot outside of the mooring field.  A mooring or an anchorage is the first item on a menu that offers a full range of optional services, including guided boat tours of the Indian River, laundry service, water taxi service to the Customs office and a variety of inland taxi tours.

Lawrence whisks us off to Customs at full throttle in his runabout.  Since it is Saturday afternoon, the office is officially closed.  But Lawrence knows how to track down the Customs officers after hours.  We have obviously interrupted them from their leisure activities.  With the entrance formalities behind us, Lawrence takes our bag of dirty laundry and agrees to return it the next day, washed and dried. 

At 7 AM on Sunday morning, Lawrence arrives for our guided boat tour of the Indian River in Portsmouth.  With the engine off and Lawrence manning the oars, the only audible sounds in these early morning hours are the green herons squawking, an occasional fish surfacing for food and the lapping of water against the hull.  For two hours, we are guided through this watery tunnel with dense vegetation along the banks and overhead.  Lawrence points out every species of plant and animal down to the termite nests.  He explains that the Carib Indians once used this waterway as an expressway from their inland villages to the sea.  When the water becomes too shallow for navigation, we disembark for a brief tour of a rustic bar carved out of the jungle.  The bar is closed this morning, but refreshments will be served to river tour passengers that arrive later in the day.

As it turns out, our two hour tour of the Indian River occurs during the clearest weather of the day.  Off-and-on morning sprinkles turn into a steady afternoon shower.  We spend a relaxing afternoon aboard Cutter Loose, refreshed by relief from the heat and intense sunshine of the topics.  On Sunday evening, the social event is the weekly barbeque at the PAYS shelter on the beach.  This is yet another way for us to support the PAYS organization and to become acquainted with other cruisers.  After dinner, a DJ transforms the event into a dancing extravaganza.  It seems rather incongruous to be here in Dominica watching 60-something cruisers from around the world singing and gesticulating wildly to the sounds of YMCA by The Village People.

Portsmouth is another one-street town in a state of decline.  It is lined with vegetable stands, bars, restaurants and businesses.  There is simply an insufficient number of employed residents to support a vibrant business district.  The bulk of employment is in the tourism sector of the economy.  Walking the street, we are approached by a variety of taxi drivers and tour guides, some of which appear to be unstable. 

The most recent form of investment in town is the new fisherman’s dock financed entirely by the Japanese government.  Presumably, this is a way for Japan to insure a steady supply of seafood from around the world to meet the demands of the Japanese people.  When we lock our dinghy to the fishing pier, we face the wrath of a fisheries employee who informs us that locking a dinghy is forbidden.  He informs us that dinghy theft is not a factor in Dominica as it is in other islands such as St. Martin.  This may be true, but we are taking no chances.  The rule amongst cruising sailors in the Caribbean is “lock it or lose it”.

The beauty of Dominica lies not in its towns, but in the interior of the island where steep mountains with lush vegetation and tropical rainforests abound.  On Monday, we share a rental car with buddy boat Dragon’s Toy for a self-guided tour of northern Dominica.  Traveling north and east from Portsmouth, the first stop is in the seaside village of Calabishie where we stop at a small bakery to sample their wares. 

Past the settlement of Marigot on the Atlantic side of the island, Pagua Bay comes into view thousands of feet below.  Beyond Marigot is the Carib Territory, where Carib Indians sell their woven baskets and other wares at roadside kiosks.  Turning inland, our drive takes us along the Pagua River through the Central Forest Reserve which offers outstanding views of the volcanic mountain tops and lush valleys below.  The return to Portsmouth from Saint Joseph is along the west coast highway.

After a long day traversing the highways and byways of Dominica, dinner tonight is at Tomato’s on the campus of U.S. based Ross University School of Medicine in Portsmouth.  This is a small slice of the Americana right here in Dominica.  ESPN is on the TV. The menu features predictable Italian-American favorites.  Faculty members and students are engaged in academic-speak over drinks on the patio.  For a few hours on the eve of our departure from Portsmouth, it feels as if we have never left the States.  Tomorrow, we will sail south to the town of Roseau, the capital city of Dominica.

Marie Galante is a small, relatively flat island to the south of Guadeloupe and lying 15 miles due east of Iles des Saintes.  Just when it seemed that our easting for this voyage had been accomplished, Cutter Loose is motoring east into the wind and waves once again.  Marie Galante is off the beaten path of cruisers.  There is nothing even remotely touristy about this island.  As the British would say, it is unspoiled.  Yet there are a dozen or more cruising sailboats anchored in the harbor at St. Louis when we arrive.  Ferry service connects Marie Galante to the mainland of Guadeloupe.

Marie Galante was discovered by Chris Columbus on his second voyage in 1493.  He named the island in honor of his Caravel, one of the smaller, lighter, faster and more maneuverable vessels designed and built by the Portuguese for long distance exploration.  Today, 12,000 people inhabit Marie Galante.  Politically, it is part of Guadeloupe.

St. Louis is the most protected harbor on the island for visiting boats.  All of the essentials are covered in St. Louis inasmuch as a patisserie/boulangerie is conveniently located at the end of the ferry dock. There are a handful of restaurants on the beach.  No English is spoken here.  In fact, the local residents seem downright curious about suntanned Caucasians strolling about town in floppy hats. 

In a chance encounter, we strike up a conversation with a group of bilingual French cruisers whom we meet at the dinghy dock. Apparently, U.S. flagged vessels are a rarity at Marie Galante and they are curious about why we are here.  They are a group of brothers with spouses here on a charter boat to celebrate the 70^th birthday of a sibling.  Some live in Guadeloupe, some are from Martinique while others reside in the Bordeaux area of France.  One is a dentist, another is a medical doctor and another is an agronomist.  As it turns out, their mother was Creole and a teacher of English.  They enjoy visiting Marie Galante because of the absence of tourism and because of the friendliness of local residents.  

Our first visual impression of St. Louis, however, is less than positive.  The streets, sidewalks and buildings in the port area are in disrepair.  We decide to withhold final judgment until we have the opportunity to explore other parts of the island.  One of our reasons to sail to Marie Galante is to bicycle its rural network of roads.  Thus far, narrow roads with heavy traffic have been the rule rather than the exception in the Caribbean.  The French, however, put money into their roads, which are in good condition. 

Non-descript entrance to Customs office in Grand Bourg

On Friday morning, the Bike Fridays are assembled bright and early for a ride to Grand Bourg, the largest settlement on the island.  The Customs office in Grand Bourg closes for the weekend at noon on Friday. We are told by others to arrive before 11:30 AM if we intend to clear customs out of Guadeloupe before Monday.  Since it is only five miles from St. Louis to Grand Bourg, the logistics should not be a problem.  En route, a broken spoke on my rear wheel impedes our progress.  Arriving in Grand Bourg at 11 AM, the challenge now is to find the Customs office post haste.  Fortunately, an English-speaking woman of Dominican birth comes to our aid, personally accompanying us to the Customs office. It is hidden on the second floor of a non-descript building on a back alley.  There is no sign or any official-looking indication of a Customs office.  She rings the buzzer and speaks in French to the Customs officers.  The door lock clicks open.  We ascend the stairs, entering the office at precisely 11:30 AM.  Ten minutes later, we exit the office with clearance papers in hand.  Without the help of this English-speaking Good Samaritan, we would still be searching for the Customs office in Grand Bourg.

Similar to St. Louis but on a larger scale, Grand Bourg also has its share of derelict buildings.  Several examples of Creole architecture remain, but most have fallen into disrepair.  After a sandwich at the patisserie and a stroll around town, we begin our return to St. Louis.  Much of the land here is used for the cultivation and processing of sugar cane, so traffic is light.  The French also seem to respect cyclists.  They honk politely, wave and give us a thumbs up when they pass by.

Along the way, we pause for a visit to Habitation Murat.  This is the site of a sugar cane plantation, now in ruins.  With its 207 slaves, it was considered in 1839 to be the largest sugar cane plantation in Guadeloupe. The windmill (minus the sails) is the dominant architectural element of the site.  A few miles further is the Plage de Trois Ilets, a magnificent beach.  Today it is deserted.

On Saturday, we pay an early morning visit to the patisserie before our departure for Dominica.  Several of the French brothers that we met the day before on the dinghy dock are stocking up on pain and baguettes for their sail to Guadeloupe.  They are as enthusiastic as ever, greeting us with smiles and firm handshakes.  We exchange boat cards and promise to stay in touch.  We find ourselves beginning to understand and perhaps even share in their perspective on Marie Galante.  It is certainly not a glamorous place that would fulfill the expectations of those seeking a glitzy Caribbean resort vacation.  It is a working class island with towns that reflect working class values and struggles.  As such, our visit to Marie Galante has provided an insight into every day life on an authentic, tourist-free Caribbean island…the essence of travel.