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Date: 21 Dec 2007 03:07:07
Title: Philipsburg, St. Maarten
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18:01.167N  63:02.992W
 
We sailed from Virgin Gorda to St. Maarten as planned last Monday night (12/17), and arrived in Simpson Bay on the Dutch side of St. Maarten to check in to customs at 8:30 Tuesday morning.  The wind was moderate and coming from a direction that was less than ideal, causing us to trace a giant Z in the sea as we made our way south past St. Maarten, and then northeast back to the island.  The swell was only six or seven feet - just enough to make it a bit uncomfortable, and just enough to cause the boat to pound into the waves since we were headed mostly into the wind.  Fortunately, this time Bill wasn't with us, so when we sailed up a wave, got a bit airborne, and crashed down the other side, nobody unintentionally levitated while trying to sleep in the forward cabin.  The sunset wasn't bad (picture 1), the moon was half visible and the stars were incredible. 
 
Both Don and I had a scare on our separate watches when we heard a loud thump - like something hitting the boat.  In both cases, it was a flying fish.  Those buggers really do fly.  Don's flying fish bounced off the dodger and right back into the water.  My flying fish was not so talented.  It thumped on the deck just outside of the cockpit and floundered around.  When I finally realized what all the ruckus was about, I knew I had to get the fish back in the water before it suffocated.  Of course there was no way I was going to touch the thing, so I scrambled down into the galley and went for the tongs.  With those in hand, I sort of shoved the sad half-dead fish over the side through a gap in the toe rail.  In the morning we noticed a bunch of fish scales at the scene of the tong-fish-shove and wondered if the thing lived through the ordeal or not.  I hope so.  If not, imagine him telling his friends in fish heaven that he was killed by a giant pair of tongs.  They probably wouldn't believe it.
 
Along the way throughout the night there was pretty heavy freighter and cruise ship traffic (got to supply all of these tropical islands with tourists and then supply the goods to sell to the tourists on these tropical islands, right?).  At one point we had a cruise ship passing us on the right and another passing us on the left going the other way.  Both were within a mile of our boat, and given the way cruise ships are lit up at night, both looked a lot closer.  I was on watch and feeling pretty much like a cruise ship sandwich at that point.
 
We somehow survived the less than perfect wind, flying fish and cruise ship traffic and arrived in Simpson Bay where we anchored the boat and Don dinghied over to the customs office to check in.   The customs office is located next to the lift bridge that spans the channel into Simpson Lagoon.  We chose not to enter the lagoon (instead we went on around the south side of the island to Philipsburg), but the lagoon is certainly a popular spot, especially for mega-yachts.  The lift bridge that blocks the entrance to the lagoon only opens for incoming boat traffic three times per day, so the line waiting to get in was pretty long (picture 2). 
 
Once we got to Philipsburg, we anchored in the giant Grand Bay (picture 3 - our boat is just right of center), not too far from those cruise ships that tried to run us down, and have been here ever since.  We've found the people here to be quite friendly.  Yesterday when we dinghied in to see the town, we happened to arrive at the dock at the same time as a boatload of cruise boat people.  A bunch of vendors and people touting promotions for this and that were waiting just beyond the dock to accost the tourists, and when one of them accosted us, she was surprised to hear us say that we were there on our own boat and were not from the cruise ship.  'You're here on your own boat?' she asked us, seeming quite incredulous.  'You mean you sailed on the ocean to get here on your own little boat?'   When we told her yes, she grinned so we could see all of her gold dental work and said, 'I'm too scared to be in a boat over the deep water, I could never do that'.  When we asked why she would be so scared of the ocean, especially living on a small island like she does, surrounded by deep ocean water, she just kind of shrugged.  Then when Don went on to point out that she could just as easily drown in seven feet of water as she could in 3,000 feet of water, she let out a big belly laugh and reluctantly agreed.  Those damn engineers - they are so logical. 
 
We plan to leave St. Maarten tomorrow (Friday, 12/21) for Antigua, where we will spend Christmas and then New Year's with my sister Margy and her husband Rick.  It will be another overnight 80ish mile trip southeast.  Hopefully we won't run into any killer cruise ships or flying fish on the way.
Anne

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