Wave Hunting

Wind Charger
Bob and Elizabeth Frearson
Sun 12 Jan 2014 22:55
Fortunately the Giraffe restaurant (the one with the modern chairs and table mats like ours at home) had a table for 3 left, it was very busy, and we took our places for a hugely anticipated French feast after our disappointment with the americanised ones in the BVIs.  Bob went for the crudites again, Matt the marlin tartare that I had last time and I went for 3 things from the sea including a fish pate,delicious, a crab boudin, scrumptious and a small but delicious portion of their marlin tartare which I kept to last because it is so divine.  Bob then chose the steak with green peppercorn sauce it kept him absolutely silent until his plate was clean, Matt and I chose the dorado which came with a quintessentially superb creamy sauce.   We had to have a pudding just because the food was so good and Bob opted for his habitual creme brulee while Matt and I each spooned our way through sublime three chocolate mousse.  We all slept the sleep of the truly satiated.
Bob was the one protesting about an early start this morning but we managed to keep our appointment to collect the car that we had hired for 0930.  It was really ropy and rather small, but it was a car.  Charly, the owner didn’t speak a great deal of English and my French only went up to O Level but we understood the gist that we were to be driven by Charly to his home in the hills above Deshaies to do the paperwork.  This was undertaken but we first of all had a conducted tour of his downstairs flat that he rented out.  Perhaps he thought we wanted to rent that and not a car?  Paperwork sorted, we returned to another vehicle which had a lot more dents and a gear stick wrapped in gaffer tape, escaped without paying a week’s villa rental and left Charly with his personal use car.  Confusion over.
Our mission was to find some waves for which Guadeloupe is renowned in the surfer’s world so that Matt could fulfil his overwhelming urge to body board, he was getting withdrawal symptoms like any true addict.  We headed for Le Moule, driving through Grand Terre the half of Guadeloupe that is older and flatter than Basse Terre.  It was so incredibly civilised, giant Carrefour and three lane highways, that it could have been the South of France except with swathes of sugar cane and tethered cows.  We found Le Moule but only a stream of waves breaking over what looked like a number of wrecks or a Damien Hearst installation.  We tried further up the coast where we didn’t find any waves but did find a very nice little restaurant for a tasty lunch just as it bucketed down with rain.  The chaps had moules frites, what else would you have in Le Moule?  A nice older French woman tried to explain, she had no English, where we would find the waves.  We sort of got the gist and headed off the other way up the coast.  An excited Matt found the spot but the wind was in the wrong direction and excitement turned to despondency until a couple arrived with a couple of surf boards in their car.  They directed us to a classic surf spot at Le Helleux so we piled back in and continued our mission.  We found it, down a little side road, and came upon a nest of surfers all keenly skimming and falling over the waves.  Unfortunately the wind was still in the wrong direction but Matt eagerly joined them and swam out to some mountainous waves that were crashing and breaking on to some scary rocks and did some very impressive spins, turns and twiddles.  Miossion accomplished.  We tore Matt away and headed back crossing Basse Terre across the volcanic, rainforest clad belt.  Our ears popped several times it was such a climb and the dented jalopy struggled to get up the inclines. 
Eventually we returned to Deshaies.  Most of the restaurants looked rather closed, being Sunday, so Bob decreed that we would eat on board.  Cooks mind worked its way through the options and decided that what we needed was flour so that we could have Toad in the Hole but all the shops were closed.  A very nice man in a soon to be opened restaurant (one that we ate in some years ago and didn’t actually like very much so it was rather cheeky) very kindly gave us some farine.  We clambered into the dinghy, returned to Windy arriving just as the sun was setting.  Bob set about preparing the gin and tonics and kicked Gerry into action for  a power top up.  He ahemed, he sang, he grumbled to an abrupt halt.  Damn, he was doing so well.