Les Saintes come rolling in

Irie
Tue 7 Apr 2009 23:33
Position 15 52N 61 35.2W Terre de Haut, Les Saintes
Tuesday 7th April
 
Looks like the censor managed to intercept the picture of Pascal showing Jan his gourds on the last update - see below, so as to speak. Anyway, still on the way north, but now with a break for a few days in Les Saintes. We've been here before and really enjoyed it. As a reminder, the little group of islands were originally colonised by Breton fishermen, so the population is an interesting mix, and the architecture very French, but with a distinct Caribbean wash. The only drawback is that the main anchorage is a little rolly.
However, back in Rodney Bay with Geoff and Val, we spent a great few days anchored off Pigeon Island. The snorkeling was good, with far fewer irritating nasties, and walking in the little National Park, fort and museum provided ample entertainment, not to mention a pleasant lunch at the Jambe de Bois restaurant. Another high spot of the trip happened Sunday. It started innocently enough with a stroll along the main beach in the bay. It's about a mile long and at the far end, away from all the hotels is a little, shack like bar, so the key objectives were a walk, followed by a refreshing drink and then a walk back and a swim. The bar was already occupied by a few locals when we arrived, it was exremely hot and the first iced Piton flew down. Steadily, the day developed, firstly talking to Chris, a local, turned GI, turned boatman, turning serious rummy, but engaging and increasingly effusively pleasant. Then Birgita arrived, a Swedish lady of indeterminate age, a replacement hip and vividly piercing Scandinavian blue eyes who came here to live with her husband some years ago. Regretfully he died the day after they bought their house, but she stayed. She was followed shortly by a substantial American lady, name unknown, but with a little terrier called Tipee, and finally the bar's owner arrived in the person of Anne Marie, very local and the seeming matriarch of half the beach. Being Sunday, this part of the shore was full of locals, many of them children and yoofs, playing cricket or football, swimming in the sea and havin' a good time. More locals materialised at the bar, wood was collected,  barbecue ignited, veg and fish sliced. Part of the preparation involved our hostess addressing the hide of one of the kids with a long stick, till he vanished onto the tin roof. In a few seconds, a rattling from above presaged a shower of tamarind seeds fresh for the pot. We stayed for lunch. One of the drinks on offer was called 'Spice'.This turns out to be very strong rum, decanted into huge bottles in which various herbs, spices and potions are prepared.  The result is remarkable - delicious and very strong. It comes in two varieties, one for ladies and one for men, both with special properties the effects of which Anne Marie strongly hinted at, backed by vociferous endorsement from the bar's populace. The lunch was excellent, the company outstanding, and finally, around four, our sojourn came to a natural end, we settled the minute bill, escaped with only two additional complimentary drinks apiece and a recipe for green sauce and toddled back along the beach whence we came. A remarkable and very warming day.
Monday we hauled the anchor, refuelled in the lagoon, and headed for the marina. On Tuesday, we had a final swim off the beach, a small reprise at the special bar, and then at three thirty, Geoff and Val boarded 'Flight's' taxi for the airport, deviating only to drop us at the cricket ground to look for tickets for Friday's One Day Test. All too soon Irie's final visitors to the Caribbean vanished towards Castries. In just over two weeks we didn't rush, but still covered plenty of ground, saw stunning places, enjoyed great weather and particularly had a really good feeling for the people in the islands we visited. A really good trip.
 
Pascal and his remarkable calabashes
 
 
Piton refill, please
 
 
The Tamarind harvest
 
 
Anne Marie in good form