Moorglade's Voyage - St Martin - a schizophrenic island

St Martin - a schizophrenic island

Moorglade's Voyage

Ted Wilson

Mon 9 Jan 2012 14:46

Our position is 18:02.081N 63:05.188W

Oh dear – how easy it is to get so relaxed that one finds it impossible to leave a place! When we sailed off the mooring in Ile Fourchue on 3 Jan we had hoped to arrive in Simpson Bay in time to catch the 11.30 bridge opening into the lagoon. However the best laid plans....The quietness of Ile Fourchue conspired against anything other than a very slow start in waking up. This was followed by a dead run to St Maarten in lighter winds than we had experienced to date and which we were slightly under-canvassed for. As a result we arrived at 11.50 and the bridge was tightly closed. We dropped anchor in the bay and dinghied into the lagoon to check in and establish contact with the Island Water World marina, where we were hoping to stay for 3 days. This would give us an opportunity to charge everything up with shore power, fill up with water and take advantage of the on-site chandlery when undertaking all the little maintenance jobs that always arise. We also arranged for a day trip to Saba on the ferry, as the pilot book stressed the difficulty of the anchorage there in any sort of swell.

St Maarten/St Martin is an island with a bit of an identity crisis as it is half Dutch and half French. Legend has it that a Frenchman and a Dutchman, primed with wine and gin respectively, walked to meet each other from opposite sides of the island and where they met the boundary was decided.. As gin is stronger than wine the Frenchman covered more ground and the French side is bigger in area, if not activity, than the Dutch side. It is more expensive to check in on the Dutch side so generally people prefer to go to the French side, but the French bridge that has to lift to allow entry into the lagoon is broken so the only way in is through the Dutch bridge.

The anchorage seemed to be immediately under the flight path for the airport that was on one side of the bay so the peace of the day was regularly shattered by big jets passing overhead at what felt like masthead height. As the main ship’s radio wasn’t working and the handheld was only transmitting and not receiving we were unable to tune in to the exchanges that accompanied the opening of the bridge at 17.30, but we joined in the procession and responded to the encouragement from the swarms of small dinghies accompanying the big motor yachts in order to help them moor up in their marina berths, to keep moving and not allow gaps to arise between the entering vessels. The balcony of the St Maarten Yacht Club was packed (drinks are 2 for the price of 1 on Tuesday evenings) and we received a big cheer as we passed through the open bridge, (presumably because we made a nice change after the big motor yachts!) The buoyage in the lagoon is not at all easy to follow – buoys seemed to be scattered randomly everywhere and none in accordance with the only chart we had in the pilot book. At one point we were down to 0.2m under the keel but in no time we were tied up satisfactorily in the berth we had identified earlier in the day. Luckily for us the inhabitants of adjoining boats were there to help as the marina staff had all gone home for the night.

Wednesday was designated as a jobs day. I worked and Ted started to try and fix the radio. We also chatted to Glen, an American on a nearby boat who was flying home the following day. Hwe was interested to hear about Antigua, where he was hoping to go next and we wanted to pick his brains about the New England coast. We ended up eating together at the St Maarten Yacht Club. While we were there it rained heavily and, as we had left our hatches open, we returned to wet beds. Even so we slept soundly and were able to get up early the next morning to catch our ferry to Saba. (This trip is covered in a separate diary entry)

On our return to the boat after the trip Glen had departed for home, but Alison and Richard on Vulcan Spirit had arrived in the marina, also with the intention of carrying out running repairs before heading into the Pacific. Ted had met them previously in Antigua, when I was back home, and as they had spent the summer in the USA we were anxious to find out all we could from them about the coast there.

Friday had been the day we originally planned to move on to Anguilla, but all the little problems with the boat were a long way from being fixed so we decided to stay another 2 days. Ted gave up trying to fix the radios – the boat radio received but wouldn’t transmit, and the hand held transmitted but wouldn’t receive so I thought we could get away with using them both at the same time – and decided instead to replace them. (The guy we consulted said it really wasn’t worth the cost of getting someone to look at them as replacements were relatively inexpensive). While Ted fitted the new one I took the dinghy over to the other side of the lagoon on a fruitless expedition to buy stamps and toothbrushes. This failed as everywhere was closed by the time I got there. On the way back I dropped the sponge overboard and had to retrieve it and the engine ran out of fuel (fortunately I had some with me and could refill it) so it was with a great sense of relief that I arrived back at Moorglade in time to entertain Richard and Alison to ti-punch and gherkins (supplies were a bit low as we hadn’t made it to the shop).

Saturday morning was taken up with a major shop at the new supermarket near the IGY marina. We bought so much stuff they gave us the 5% discount I thought was only for super-yacht provisioning, but at least we weren’t scraping about in the bottom of the fridge any more to find something to eat. After that it was back to jobs, with a break to drink tea and eat doughnuts with Alison and Richard on their lovely Halberg Rassy. How I long for a boat with a fitted washing machine, particularly after spending Sunday morning doing our laundry, while Ted fixed the boom and the holding tank gauge. Sunday afternoon we took a dinghy trip to Marigot on the French side of the lagoon. Like all the French islands it was very reminiscent of the France we have visited so often – pavement cafes and street markets and a complete contrast to the brash Burger King, MaccyD, hotel and casino packed Dutch half of the island.

It really is very cosy though, tucked away in our little corner and the days keep slipping by. We are now resolved to move on early on Tuesday (9am bridge opening) so Monday must see all jobs finished and full advantage taken of the good internet connection. Watch this space.................