Having spent yesterday communing with the boat’s engines and doing the laundry, we decided that it some enjoyment was well overdue! We knew that we would find it difficult to see the inland bits of Martinique by coast hopping on Watergaw, so we had concluded that hiring a car for a few days would be a good idea, when the boat was safe in a marina. Having failed to manage this at Marin, the marina at Pointe du Boit gave us a second chance.

We had been told that car hire could be difficult (high season here, and not enough cars top go round) but we struck lucky and found one – an aged Renault Clio, much abused but allegedly reliable – and set off for an exploration of the hinterland. Though it has its own mountains, Martinique is much flatter than St Lucia, with reasonable stretches of agricultural and well farmed land. The local cattle are pale and a bit bony, each with their own tame aigrette perched on their shoulder to groom them – it looks quite odd to watch the symbiotic relationship between two such different creatures. There is much sugar cane (for the rum), banana and maize growing, and the landscape seems more tamed than the wilds of their southern island neighbour.

The island has nearly 3 times the population of St Lucia (or Sainte Lucie as they call it here), and has remained part of France, probably to its benefit, though sometimes the differences seem greater than the similarities between the homeland and the Caribbean colony. People are friendly, everyone wears very colourful clothing, and the food is good. Tourism is clearly central to their economy, though perhaps less so than for St Lucia, and the majority of the visitors are French, though there are some German and Dutch folk around. 

We knew that it would be useful to stay away overnight to avoid excessive motoring (local drivers are completely mad!), so we made for the east coast and headed northwards. It is odd looking at the Atlantic eastwards, though it felt familiar - strong winds, big seas and hefty showers rolled in over the couple of days we spent there. We booked into an extraordinary hotel (not too many options around), built in the early part of the 20th century along the lines of an American colonial mansion. It was commissioned by the family who owned the sugar cane plantation that spans the valley and hills around Trinite and Tartan on the coast, and clearly no expense was spared. They did not have the local skills to cast the elegant columns that hold the balconies and floors up, but not to be put off, they had local carpenters carve them by hand! It is situated beautifully, looking down on their acres and over to the island offshore - which we could see when the torrential rain paused for a time! Now owned and run by a local couple as a hotel (a work in progress rebuilding it and kitting it out!), we had a great meal and fine evening.

This set us fair the following morning to see the volcanic mountain that dominates the north of the island, so we left looking forward to a hard scramble to the top (the last mile vertically and horizontally!). Unfortunately, the "Atlantic" weather remained in force, and the top of the mountain was shrouded in cloud with occasional rain. The legs breathed a sigh of relief, and we satisfied ourselves with a cup of coffee at the car park near the summit, before heading west and south.

One could navigate around the island by reference only to the distilleries that make rum from the cane fields. There are dozens of them, some pretty and some a bit run down and seedy as if they had over-indulged in their own produce. There must be a fair old market in rum, to sustain the number of producers here and elsewhere in the Caribbean...it can't all go into babas!

Watergaw

Ali will give you a flavour of the fauna later,