I’m a sailor – get me out of here!

After Vicky’s visit (see last blog) we had a further three weeks or so in Marina du Marin. The wind wouldn’t stop blowing, the pontoon we were on (8) was full of seemingly derelict boats with similar occupants (nice enough though they were, it did seem that they had washed up there and lost their way in life somewhat).

We occupied ourselves with fitting a new anchor chain (sorely needed), which of course needed a new gypsy. Our gypsy was DIN and the chain out here is ISO – surely not we said, but yes it was. Still we have a nice DIN gypsy for sale which will make up for some of the horrendous cost. After that we tested our bilge pumps and made sure a few other things here and there were working as they should.

But, the wind wouldn’t stop blowing and the squalls kept coming. We were rammed in with boats either side rubbing against us – good job we had some fenders! At least the boat on our starboard side had a nice cat. The mate was pleased with that (we didn’t know the name of the cat but Skip heard the owner returning to the boat one day saying “ah, mon cherie” to the cat. Skip thought he was saying “ah, Marjorie” so henceforth the cat was called Marjorie! – Mate).

Then, one evening, it was hot, raining and windy (as usual) and the mate saw something that we never wanted to see onboard. I’ll mention it once as even the word sheds fear through us – a cockroach. Followed by another three over the next few days (pontoon 8 was crawling with them). Immediately we banned all eating onboard. Cleaned the boat in every nook and cranny, fumigated, killed, added insecticide in all possible places and walked around at night with a torch. We were so dispirited as we, of all people, take every precaution – we wipe down everything that comes onboard and shake our shoes and clothes off. We keep the boat pretty spotless at all times and even had plastic bottle deterrents to prevent things walking up our shore lines. But, as I say, pontoon 8 and its occupants were pretty grim…

Once we were satisfied that we’d done the best we could (the incident was a little over two weeks ago as I write and nothing since has been sighted – so we are starting to calm down, but are still vigilant) the mate hired a car. Martinique is the only place where we can buy proper food of excellent quality and the mate stocks up to the gunnels. £800 later (yes £800!) Stargazer was stocked with everything we could think off that we might need for a good few weeks. Except my lovely French wine stocks are diminishing already…

After that, we were off. We left Marina du Marin on Saturday 5^th July, anchored in St Anne outside the harbour for a couple of nights (to test out our new anchor chain - it was very nice to see Skip returning from the foredeck after anchoring and not being covering in rust! – Mate) and made our way south, via a night at anchor in Rodney Bay – destination Bequia. The channels between islands were hard work (but we did sail both of them, and in good time) – the wind and swell just will not stop this year and on the leeward side of the islands there is a calm where motoring is the only option to get you to your destination in reasonable time (and in daylight). As we were motoring down the leeward side of St Vincent (we regard St Vincent as too unwelcoming to visit, otherwise it would be a decent break in the journey from St Lucia to Bequia) there was a shuddering noise and the engine ground almost to a halt. Turning the engine off – we saw bits of fishing net flow out from the stern. Quick action was needed as the chart plotter showed us some 400m from rocks towards which we were drifting – albeit not quickly. The mate donned her snorkelling gear and cut the net and its line away from the propeller, shaft and keel (the rope cutter had done a pretty good job but bits of gear were still tangled – Mate) but the rudder would not turn. The mate couldn’t see a problem underneath; I donned the mate’s mask and snorkel and went to have a look – sure enough, there was nothing there. It must be the auto pilot. Working at super speed, we took everything out of the lazarette and I jumped in to disconnect the linear drive arm that pushes the rudder. The wheel turned normally and the relief we both felt was palpable.

We finally arrived in Admiralty Bay, Bequia (which is where we are now) around 2045 on 9^th July. As it was little dark we anchored out at the back and moved in the next day to a better spot. The pressure was on as it was the mate’s birthday on the 11^th and we had to check in and sort a few other things out first. Since then it has been – as usual – wind, wind, wind and swell, swell, swell.

SG at anchor in Admiralty Bay, Bequia (centre shot, out the back)

Bequia is all about the whales! 

There are places we like in the Caribbean, Bequia been one of them; Antigua, Martinique being others, maybe even Montserrat – so why the title of the blog?

We intended to sail the Caribbean and explore its islands. I’d read many books and various tales of people doing this; mostly written in the 90’s or early 00’s. It sounded a great plan. Last season (our first full season) seemed very windy with poorly protected anchorages and culminated in hurricane Beryl. Maybe we’ve got something wrong, we thought, so we stayed for this year with results already mentioned in previous blogs, but as a reminder – wind, wind, wind and more wind (we’re talking serious wind, not just high sailing wind) and swell, swell, swell – obviously the two are related but the anchorages of years ago are now so full of local (unreliable) mooring buoys and decrepit liveaboard craft  so you have to anchor so far out that the swell is often so bad sleep is almost impossible we would say up to 60% of the time. Popular anchorages, such as Falmouth Harbour in Antigua and many others that are more protected are now so full of charter boats that overcrowding is an issue, which, at least for us, adds further stress (ever seen a charter catamaran anchor? You’ll know why stress levels for boats nearby are high if you have).

So whilst some of the islands are pleasant, the conditions over the last couple of years have been testing to say the least. We both love sailing and being on the water – hence our cry – I’m a sailor, get me out of here…