N13:58 W061:01 Marigot Bay

Wind Charger
Bob and Elizabeth Frearson
Thu 18 Dec 2014 22:07
We had another cosy evening in last night.  To be honest I wasn’t feeling at my best and we couldn’t face another evening slogging around town on an unfulfilling restaurant hunt.  (The visit to the Pharmacie has done little as yet to improve matters but was in itself quite amusing.  There was a real Bridget Jones moment when I was trying to describe my problem to the French only speaking pharmacist with much pounding on my chest, false coughs and trying to mime the expulsion of phlegm.  “Ah” she declared with understanding, and some astonishment, “Expectorant”.  How was I to know that it was going to be the same word in French). 
Instead of venturing out we “lit” the candles (the very clever battery operated ones that actually look very realistic and are far less of a hazard than the real thing) polished off the gin, ate spag bol sans beef and listened to the next hundred of Now That’s What I Call a Million with the naff Christmas tree flashing almost in time to the music.  We have rather given up on Martinique, not just the difficulty in getting anywhere and doing anything and anything being open but also that we need to get in touch with Rodney Bay to make sure that we can actually get a berth (the constant threat hanging over us) and Bob’s dual band mobile phone that “works anywhere in the world” does just that, except of course French islands.  Over dinner we decided to head back to St Lucia in the morning. 
We took off over a weedy sea ( not just very little in the waves department but also a lot of sargassum weed about), put up the sails but with not more than a mere puff of wind kept the motor running.  It does charge the batteries!  We slipped and slopped across contentedly, the sun continuing its unfailing sunniness, had a light lunch, watched a few dolphins in the distance busy on their own restaurant hunt and puttered into Marigot Bay at just past 3:00pm.  We were immediately surrounded by Santa, with only his hat to identify him, who is the best banana seller in the world, (we ended up buying a bunch even though we don’t need them), various other less successful fruit sellers and a chap offering a taxi service who we think may have been the infamous Bozo, but it may just be our fertile imagination.  We need Fran here to identify him.
We chose Marigot Bay with the thought being that if Rodney Bay won’t have us we could perhaps just stay here reasonably safely as a last chance, if all else fails, fall back position.  Not ideal but at least a cunning plan.   Our choice was, of course, nothing to do with the Rainforest Hideaway restaurant where we have always eaten like kings and queens.  Bob dinghied over, just 100 metres or so, to book a table and reported back that “they were totally full with a party or something”.  He added “Only kidding”only once I had fallen for this hook line and sinker.  I am patently not operating at my best!