Monthly Archives: February 2022

You’d think that after more than 65 years that I’d have just about used up all the stupid moves available to me.  

They say that “experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want”.  Ok, so I had yet another experience and I hope I learned. 

Well, two days ago I discovered that there is no reason to keep my wallet, with all my credit cards, insurance cards, driver’s license, a good amount of US dollars and other items in my with me at all times.

I wasn’t thinking about the fact that you can’t exchange Greenbacks for Euros here or that I had no need for my US drivers license…or that my various insurance cards are not valid here.  In spite of all this I went everywhere with all that stuff in my wallet.

I also never thought carefully about what would happen if I lost my wallet, which I did.  I have no idea exactly how it happened but I don’t have it anymore with plenty of US cash, about $150, and about $80 Euros, or my three credit cards and debit card, etc, etc, etc…

Where did I loose it?  Hard to say as Brenda and I walked all over the city, stopping at green grocers in the market, along with various other stops along the way.  Sadly, as Brenda did most of the credit card transactions that day, I have NO IDEA when I lost it as I can’t just think about the last time I used it.  None, nada…

It might have dropped out of my pants pocket, which I generally keep zipped closed and fallen in the water when we were heading back to Pandora in the afternoon or it might have dropped somehow when I was pulling my camera out of the wheelie bag that we were dragging everywhere.  I have no idea. 

Anyway, I spent several hours that night compulsively poking through Pandora, time and time again, hoping against hope that my wallet was stuck aboard somewhere weird.   They say that doing the same thing over and over and yet expecting a different outcome is a marker for insanity.  Fair enough…

At this writing, two days later, still no luck.  I also retraced my steps from that day and again, no luck.  Not that I expected anyone to turn in a wallet stuffed with cash and other valuable things, well valuable to me…  I even lost my membership card from the Antigua and Barbuda Royal Navy Tot Club.  

I called Bank of America and they said that as long as there are no weird transactions posted, that we can keep using the same cards (Brenda’s of course but the same account).    Dud I mention that I lost my wallet?  Thought so…

The nice guy at BOA also told me that they could send out new cards and we’d likely have them within about 5 days, allowing time for them to make their way through Customs in Martinique.

Anyway, so far so good, with no suspicious transactions.  Fingers crossed.  As you can imagine, I was really upset when I could not find my wallet and didn’t get a lot of sleep that first night.  However, after spending some time on the phone with the, ever so soothing, BOA rep, I felt a lot better.  He suggested that one option is to do nothing and hope that no weird charges are posted as that will trip the canceling of the card, which would be bad.

Not sure what I will do so for now, perhaps nothing, that’s easy, and I’ll just keep my fingers crossed…

So, back to Fort de France, where we are currently anchored.    The last time we were here was two years ago, less than two weeks before the pandemic shut down everything.  And, once again, this weekend, Carnival will kick into high gear, for the first time since our last visit.

Brenda and I are not certain that we will be comfortable with being in the midst of thousands but we will have to see how the week progresses.

The view from the harbor, with a modern city on one side and a French fort to the other, offers an interesting contrast of old and new with tropical rainforest in the distance. The city skyline is dominated by the St Louis Cathederal, constructed in the late 19th century, the sixth cathedral to occupy that spot.  It’s five predecessors, the first built in the 17th century were all destroyed by earthquakes or hurricanes.  This one is constructed of cast iron which has held up well for more than 100 years.  In spite of many old buildings there are also ultra modern office buildings to the north.And an ancient fort to the South.  Every morning at dawn, dozens of locals swim off of the beach, making their way about a half mile out to a channel marker and back.  The group seems to be overwhelming women that talk loudly as they make their way out to the buoy and back to the beach, clearly taking their time, chatting the entire way.  The fort dominates the southern side of the harbor and at the very end there are design features that look just so French.  I can almost hear a French soldier up on the wall tormenting the English, just like in the Monty Python movie, The Search for the Holy Grail.  It’s hard to believe that such a beautiful harbor is in the middle of a busy city and with water so clear that you can see down 25′.What harbor shot is complete without a photo of Pandora at anchor? And, with Carnival beginning later this week, it’s getting busier every day.  Most nights there are local groups practicing drumming, the constant beat that is so much a part of the celebrations.  Brenda and I went out on Sunday evening for a drink and watched as a truck holding dozens of huge speakers made it’s way past us.  The crowds were nothing like we will see when the celebrations begin in a few days.  As you can imagine, this sort of partying brings out all sorts of interesting characters.  How about this set of buns?  And, it is a guy.  I expect that many women would kill for a set like his.   He seemed to be having a great time showing his stuff.   I also saw a woman with screaming green hair and an outfit to match.  Sadly, no photo…There is plenty of skin on display here in the French islands.  The other night, while Brenda and I were enjoying a G&T in the cockpit, a couple motored slowly by in their dink, I guess in the midst of an evening harbor tour.  Perched in the bow, unconcerned was the women, topless.  Sorry, no photo. 

On a nearby small boat, another couple, and every afternoon, she is out doing chores in her birthday suit.   “Honey, can you help me reach this block?”  Boy buns, girl buns.  I need to be fair, right?There is a very long dock on the waterfront to tie up dinks to, it’s several hundred feet long, part of a waterfront park.   Adjacent to this is an extensive historic area with narrow streets and alleys.  Some of the buildings are scruffy but most very interesting to look at.  I enjoyed this café with loads of plantings.  It was Sunday when I took this photo when most everything is closed.I thought that this building had some interesting details.  Note the contrast of the modern office building in the distance.
There is also a large daily green market, likely where I lost my wallet.   I could have purchased a lot of bananas with all the money in that I was carrying.  I sure hope whoever picked up the cash had a lot of trouble converting those US dollars.As of today we aren’t sure if we plan on staying here in Ft de France for Carnival but I’ll admit that it is tempting.  I guess that depends on how confident we are that our two vaccine doses and booster will be in keeping us safe.

I have no idea where my wallet is but perhaps this photo of Pandora from our friends Stephanie and Jim on Hero offers a clue.  Nearby, at the end of the rainbow, perhaps?No wait, is it here aboard, at the end of the rainbow?There you go again Bob, betting on leprechauns.  Don’t forget, you are in France, not Ireland so it’s not likely.

Ok, ok, At least I won’t have to worry any more about loosing my wallet.

Live an learn.  I wonder what I will learn today?  I cringe to think…

One of the best parts of being in the Caribbean, aside from avoiding the FREEZING winter conditions at home, is the nightly show as the sun sets to the west.

Sunsets in the Caribbean are nearly always impressive and last nights was even better than usual with a local fisherman out for one last set of his net as the sun set to the west.  More about how these industrious fisherman practice their craft a little later in this post.Of course, as Brenda and I sit in the cockpit or up on deck with a glass of wine,  we wonder if we will see the elusive green flash, a momentary pulse of bright green as the sun sets below the horizon.  This phenomenon only happens when the horizon is perfectly clear and lasts less than a second.  Last night was one of those nights and while I sort of missed the “flash” by a fraction of a second, we got it, a green flash!  If you don’t see it in this image, I guess you just had to be there, and we were.

I put the camera on sports mode, taking photos about twice a second as the sun sets.  It drops fast enough that you can see it move lower and lower.And, that iconic flash that, I almost, caught.  I’ve done better but you can sort of see the change of color. It was beautiful and a perfect way to end the day.

Today, the day got off to an equally impressive start with a parade of showers rolling off of Mt Pele, bringing with it a variety of rainbows.   First a partial “bow” against impressive clouds. A bit later, a full rainbow.  This photo doesn’t really give a sense of the scale.  It was really huge. And the colors looked brighter in “real life”.  This close up gives a better feel for how bright it was. The streets in St Pierre, once the capital of Martinique, are a mix of old and really old.  In 1902, Mt Pele, in the distance, capped in clouds, exploded with little warning, leveling the city and killing some 30,000 in a brief moment as superheated gas and ash, in excess of 1,000 degrees, rushed down the mountain.
In the aftermath of destruction, not a building was standing, only charred ruins.  Some of the remains of these ruined buildings are left as a memorial to that fateful day. The destruction was total, leaving not a single building standing. Every person in the city perished except a single very lucky guy who happened to be in jail when Pele exploded, and survived.  Check out this three minute video of the story of the destruction of St Pierre and one man’s very lucky day.Following the eruption, the capital was moved south to Ft de France, which remains the capital to this day.   We will be heading there, I expect, within the next few days so stay tuned on that front.

On that fateful day there were many ships anchored off of the city and most were sunk in moments.   The shore drops off steeply off of the beach so today boats have to anchor as close to the beach as they dare.  This view from the center of the city south, is more peaceful than that day in 1902.   Pandora is anchored way to the south, near the point, as there is a fairly shallow shelf in about 25′ of water so it’s a better spot than near the center of the city.

The problem with anchoring near the city center is that the drop off is so fast that if you were to drag your anchor, even 100′, the anchor and chain would be hanging straight down as you drifted to sea.  There are many spots in the ruins in the city that offer a juxtaposition of old and older like this lovely courtyard.   Notice the sleeping dog near the back wall.  Happy Rover.
I particularly liked the way that this home was built into a stretch of old stone wall.  Nicely done. And, a view of the water over the rooftop.  I love steel roofs. A few days ago we visited what has become our favorite distillery, Depaz, built into the foothills of Pele.  The facility is the only steam powered distillery, I think in the Caribbean if not the world.   It sits on the edge of thousands of acres of cane fields. Heavy machinery is used to move the ground up cane into the crusher which extracts the juice. After the cane is crushed and juice extracted, the remainder is set aside and fed into the boiler that provides steam to the engine that powers the plant. If a picture is worth a thousand words, nothing can do justice to this wonderful steam engine like this little video that I shot of the machine at work.   At less than 30 seconds, it gives a real sense of this wonderful piece of engineering in action.   Enjoy…After extracting the sugar juice it is fermented for two days and then put into a distillation tower that gasses off and then collects the alcohol.Then the distilled alcohol is put into oak barrels and aged, in some cases for a decade before being bottled.  Each year about 10% of the rum evaporates from the barrels, an amount called “the angel’s share”.  As a result of this, a bit more is added each year to top up the barrel.  So, if you purchase a rum that has been aged for a number of years, some of the rum has been added on a yearly basis to keep the barrel full.  In some cases, the barrels that the rum is aged in are discarded Port barrels or other types from the US and Europe.  The use of old barrels gives rums a special taste.

These barrels are actually empty, waiting to be filled.  When they are full, they are placed on their side. The rum business has always been profitable as witnessed by this impressive manor home, once the home of the owners of Depaz. Nice view.  I can imagine Mr Depaz sitting on the front porch, perhaps sipping an old fashioned rum punch, feeling pretty proud of himself, master of all he can see and such.  The manor homes on these estates are always sited upwind from the factory.  As you can imagine, boiling sugar water and the near constant crushing of the cane gives off a sickly sweet smell of molasses.   Not something that you’d want wafting into your home, day and night.  Following lunch at the Depaz restaurant with some friends, Brenda and I opted to walk the 1.5 miles back to town.  Down hill all the way and rain showers kept us from getting too hot.  It was a very nice walk.  Brenda has a new straw hat that she has decorated with a lovely scarf.  I finished the ensemble with some fresh flowers plucked along the side of the road.
It’s always a treat to see what grows in people’s gardens and long the roadside.  How about a mix of orchids and bougainvillea?Ok, so back to the fisherman I mentioned at the beginning of this post.

In spite of the fact that the next piece of land to the west as we look out to sea, is probably Honduras, it’s fairly settled along this coastline.  However, before dawn each morning the rocking and rolling begins when the many small fishing boats head out to fish.

In many cases, they are fishing for pilchards, or large sardines.   These 8″ long fish are considered a local delicacy that is sold in the market every morning, fresh from the boat, along with a good variety of other options. Yesterday I purchased a good sized chunk of tuna.  See the tuna “mother” off to the right of this photo?  That was where the tuna I purchased came from.  It was yummy. Also in the market, a huge variety of local vegetables.  We are particularly fond of the tomatoes, very different from the bio-engineered tasteless variety that are available in the US during the winter. So, these small boats head out to fish, early in the morning, often very close to where we are anchored.  The boats generally have two fisherman on board.  First they toss bits of palm fronds onto the water which will bring the fish to the surface.

When they see a promising school of fish, they power in a large circle, paying out their purse net over the side. This boat did their work right in front of anchored Pandora. After securing both ends of the long net together, they pull on the draw string that closes up the bottom of the next, trapping their catch.  Notice the guy on the left who is beating the water with an oar, to scare the fish back into the middle of the net to keep them from escaping under their boat before the net is fully secured.  They then pull one end of the net back aboard, slowly closing in on the school.The net gets smaller and smaller as they draw it aboard.As the net is brought back aboard they carefully pull the individual fish and toss them into a basket.It is an amazing process to watch these fisherman pursue their craft.   I expect that with the exception of using outboard motors, not much has changed for generations.

St Pierre has a long history and it is hard to imagine the horror of that day in 102 that captured the attention of the world.

We aren’t sure how long we will remain here but for now Brenda and I are enjoying spending time in St Pierre, what was once called “The Paris of the Caribbean”.  It’s still lovely and a nice mix of not to shabby and pretty chic.

That’s about it for now as Brenda and I are heading to a local Gauguin museum with our friends from Higlander.

More to come…

It’s hard to say what the best part of being in the French Islands this winter.  It might be the fabulous cuisine, or perhaps the wonderful assortment of fine foods in the markets.  Gone are the rows and rows of junk food that you find in American markets.  Who needs hundreds of yards of chips, soda and sugary cereals.  Here are rows of fine chocolates, cheeses and pates. And, don’t forget about all the great wines and rums to choose from, all at prices that are unimaginable in the US.

Perhaps it’s the simplicity of clearing in and out of the French islands.  Yesterday when we went ashore to clear into customs in St Pierre, we were greeted warmly by the customs officer.  We filled out entry forms on a freshly sanitized computer.  After a few minutes, I printed out my papers and had them stamped.  When I asked what I owed, the official pointed casually to a donation cup, seeming to say  “pay what you want”.   In Deshaies, Guadeloupe the fee was 3 Euros.  I’ll pay that.

I guess the French just want us to spend money on wine, cheese and pastry.  I’m all for that.

Are the sunsets that greet us each evening while we are enjoying a “sundowner” what makes this so special?  Sure, they are great but in the interest of fairness,  sunsets are fabulous at every island.  Perhaps it’s the magnificent scenery of the tall cloud shrouded mountains looming over the quaint villages that make visiting here so special.  We won’t think about the more than 30,000 that died in 1902 when Pele, this peak and still active volcano, blew it’s top and wiped out St Pierre in few scalding moments.   Is it the near hourly rainbows that we see in the mornings and late afternoons as the showers in the nearby rainforests pass through the anchorage?Those short lived showers are a great way to keep Pandora salt free after a sporty run between islands.  We buddy boated with our friends on Highlander to get here a few days ago from Les Saintes.Everyone wants a photo of their boat under sail and I got a few great ones of Highlander.  What’s not to love about a view from Pandora of St Pierre in the late afternoon light?
Or, perhaps the passing of a classic Cornish Crabber as she sailed into the harbor in Les Saintes.Or, the view of the harbor from Fort Napoleon. Ok, perhaps it’s the turquois waters of the nearby reefs that makes these islands so special. Or a visit to a nearby beach.   Ok, the view to the left was sandy but not quite a dramatic.  Complete with swaying palms.  Admittedly, it was, as Brenda woud say, “blowing a gale”. If you like spying local color, look up and see a hefty iguana, feeling pretty proud of himself seeming to say “hey, what you looking at buddy?  You can leave now!”But, the best part of all, and what makes visiting most any island, is time with fellow cruisers, fellow Salty Dawgs, that hang out much of the season together.  “everybody into the pool!”
Whatever it is that makes cruising in the Caribbean great, it’s surely better in the French islands.  Ok, it’s at least as good as most any place other than enduring the cold up north, here in the French Islands.

And, al0ng with great food, wine and terrific scenery, is the rum.  Today, off to nearby Depaz distillery for a tour, tasting and a great lunch.  Yup, cruising with al the basic food groups with the Dawgs.

So, that’s my report and I’ll wrap this up so I can head to the market to buy some fresh tuna for dinner tonight.  Perhaps a baguette too.

It’s all this and more that’s “best” about being in the French islands this season.

When we first visited Les Saintes a number of years ago, Brenda’s reaction, when she saw the brightly painted homes with red roofs, was “this is the prettiest place I have ever seen”.   And, like the other French islands we have visited, the food is great too.  Beautiful scenery and great food.  That was on our first year cruising the Caribbean and we still feel that way, years later.

We are on a mooring very close to an active ferry dock.  Hundreds of tourists, mostly from France, arrive daily from the big island of Guadeloupe, overnight bags in tow.   It makes for a rolly harbor during the day.  Not great, I’ll admit.  Off to the north is the big island of Guadeloupe and the view is pretty spectacular in the late afternoon.  This morning I was greeted by a partial rainbow.  It was very windy overnight with a series of strong squalls moving over the island. The first thing that comes to mind when I arrive here is that it looks like a seaside village in the Mediterranean, well at least what I imagine that would look like, as I have limited experience with such places.  Having said that, it feels quite French.  Last night Brenda and I went out to a favorite restaurant.  She had duck breast and I had octopus.  They were both quite good followed by crème brulee.  Yum. This archipelago of islands is only about 20 miles from Pointe de Pietre and yet has a very different feel.  As lush as Guadeloupe is, this island is very arid, more so than most of the others in the area.  The islands are just not tall enough to wring out much rain from the trades.

I am struck by the color of the water.  We’ve been here for a few days already and aren’t sure if we will leave soon for Martinique, about 70 miles from here, or wait until the next weather window, perhaps by next weekend.

Unlike other areas that we visit, here we take a mooring as the area near the town is quite deep and unless you are willing to anchor far out, it’s really the only option.  They seem to be well maintained and even though the water is nearly 40′ deep, you can clearly see the bottom.

The islands, and there are a number of them, ring a large harbor or bay, that is fairly well protected from the ocean swells.    This are is controlled by France and back in the day, when they were duking it out with the English, each nearby hilltop had a fort or lookout.  Yesterday a number of cruisers hiked to the top of one of the highest peaks.  You can see the tiny fort on top of the hill in the distance.  The group hiked up a well paved road that got steeper and steeper as we gained elevation.   The view of the harbor below was amazing. If you zoom in Pandora is in the middle of the harbor. Off to the right of the harbor are many local colorful fishing boats.  The light blue along the edge is shallow water.  It’s very clear water.  On the eastern or windward side of the island, not so placid, with waves crashing on the rocky shore. Zoom in and you can see the beautiful textures in the rocks and foam of crashing waves. Our friend Mark, from Roxy, takes pictures with his iPad and I could not resist getting a photo of him concentrating on the perfect shot. While I was looking at the local color, they were busy watching me.  Goats are a scourge on most islands, eating everything in sight.  As a result, many native plants can never gain a foothold so much of the island is defoliated.  So, here we are in a charming harbor, unsure about what’s next.  But hey, what’s the rush?

Perhaps I’ll go ashore for a baguette.  Brenda had some leftover from her dinner last night so lunch will be duckbreast and cheese on a baguette.  Double yum.

As I made my way south to Antigua back in early November, I realized that I really didn’t want to make the run north this spring, only to turn around a few months later to make the return run again next fall. 

The fact is that we really don’t use the boat all that much during the summer so sailing more than 3,500 miles round trip, just to let the boat sit for months, doesn’t make much sense.  And, frankly, when I get back in the spring, I am ready for a break.   Additionally, we have big plans for the house this summer, we are having the kitchen remodeled and I’m redoing the third and final bathroom that I will have done personally since we moved there a decade ago.  That’s a big job so not having the distraction of Pandora will surely help.  We are also planning some traveling which won’t leave a lot of time for using Pandora. 

When I first became involved with Salty Dawg, the group that does the rally, I wondered of the boats that make the run, how many do it year after year and how many just opt to leave the boat in the south for the winter, avoiding thousands of miles of ocean passages every year.   For many, I have learned, it’s a one way trip until they are finished cruising the area and head home, sometimes years later.

So after asking for advice from friends and speaking with a key vendor in Trinidad, the plan is to leave it south and see how it goes.  That’s a big change for us and we will have to see how it goes.   The advantage, beyond the wear and tear on me and Pandora is that there are excellent services in Trinidad so just about anything that I need to have done can be handled there.

This year, the list is long, including painting the decks and now fixing some really nasty scratches that someone put on the boat a few days ago.  I can’t prove it but suspect it was some kids on a small catamaran from a local sailing school.  There are a lot of them sailing around the harbor and it really looks like one of them smashed into the boat, not once but three times.

I wasn’t aboard but the fact that there is a small sneaker print on the hull certainly suggests that a kid pushed off with a salty shoe as they bumped down the hull.

I spoke to the director of the school and he came out to the boat only to say that because I didn’t see it happen…  Additionally, he says that he spoke with the instructors and they did not witness anyone running into Pandora.

I guess I am on my own.  Add that to the list for Trinidad.  Good thing that the company I chose to oversee all of the work is called “Perfect Finish” as I am going to need it.  Another year, another perfect finish.   Well, at least until another small boat crashes into Pandora again.   Another season, a few more boat dollars…

Setting aside the fact that just about every season someone in a small boat bumps into and scratches Pandora,  we have been visiting some really wonderful spots over the last few weeks since leaving Antigua.

As we moved down the coast of Guadeloupe, on our way to Pointe de Pietre, where we are now, we stopped at Pigeon Island, a Jacques Cousteau marine sanctuary.  It’s quite charming and is in the lee of the tallest mountains on the island.  The mountains are topped with clouds all the time.  As a result, there is a constant parade of rain showers, carried by the easterly trade winds.   As the winds move up the eastern side of the island, the steep rise in elevation cools the air, the dewpoint drops and it rains and the showers are carried over onto the western side of the island.  The rain is very light but perfect for forming rainbows all day. As we moved down the coast, early the next morning, on our way to Pointe de Pietre, the water was glass calm in the lee of the island, with a row of clouds marching into the distance.  The moment reminded me of a little steam train chugging it’s way over the horizon. Pointe de Pietre is the largest city in Guadeloupe and while it is a popular stopping point for cruisers, the water isn’t all that clear as it is a very industrial harbor.

Yesterday a group of us decided to rent cars and head into the mountains to visit a popular waterfall.   The roads on the island are very well maintained, generally two lane divided highways but take an exit and you are soon on narrow winding roads. As you climb higher and higher up the mountainside, the going gets a lot steeper and much of the time it’s first gear all the way.   As you get higher up, the roads are barely wide enough for one subcompact car and the switchback turns are sometimes a 45 degree pitch and the car can barely keep going, even in the lowest gear.

It’s wonderful to watch the vegetation change as you climb higher and higher, becoming more lush as the kilometers roll by.

Once you are perhaps 2,000′ above sea-level, the air is noticeably cooler and huge tree ferns are everywhere. 
The near constant rain means that there are rivers and streams flowing in every valley. This particular park has the tallest waterfall on the island, a series of three falls with a total elevation of over 1,000′.  It’s so tall you can see it from the ocean as you pass by.   This shot is from the entrance to the park, an overlook that shows the two largest cascades on the island, perhaps in the eastern Caribbean. The walk to a spot where you can view the falls closer takes about an hour as a well maintained walkway meanders through the rainforest.   There are a lot of steps, up and down both ways.   Some are wood and others carved out of the rocks.    There is water dripping everywhere and all surfaces are completely covered with plants, small and large, competing to grow.    Some are tiny mosses on wet walls. Others, tiny ferns growing from every crack and crevice. Everywhere you look, mossy green.A riot of green everywhere. There are certainly orchids in the upper story of the huge trees but most are not in bloom this time of year.   I did spy some delicate orchids, not currently flowering affixed to branches in the clearings, where sun could penetrate.  In the dense forest, there isn’t enough light near the ground for most orchids to grow properly.  There were a few orchids in bloom like this delicate bletilla. Along the way there are a number of overlooks.  Brenda and our friend Lynn were enjoying the view, while taking a rest.
This day we had rented three cars and traveled together for much of the day.  We only got lost once or twice…After our walk in the rainforest, we stopped at a lovely spot for lunch and after that, a distillery where we were treated to a number of tastings.   It’s hard to say if it was the rum or the presenter that was the most entertaining.  She was quite a character and after listening to her share thoughts about each rum in her wonderful French accent, none of us left empty handed. It was a long day, nearly 12  hours, and the driving up in the mountains, with it’s twists and turns was tiring.   However, it was a great way to spend the day and it sure beats snow.

Guess what?  Snow at home AGAIN.  Better them than me.

So, Trinidad this summer?  That’s the plan.  For now, cruising with friends, especially in the French islands, perfect!

At least that makes the newest scratches in Pandora more bearable.