Can you hear me now? YES, sort of. YIPPEE!
Here we are, hanging out in St Anne, Martinique, a charming spot that we enjoy visiting. It’s a very nice rural sort of village with a church that dominates the downtown scene.
To call it a “town” perhaps overstates things a bit. This is just about all of it and after dark, it’s even smaller when many of the businesses close. 
Saturday, yesterday, is market day, with all sorts of vendors showing their wares. 
The Caribbean is known as the “spice islands” and the vendors do not disappoint with a huge variety to choose from. 
The diminutive scale of the town is not proportional to the size of the harbor, perhaps the largest anchorage in the Caribbean, about 1.5 miles long and a half mile wide. Without a panorama to show all the boats, perhaps a shot of the town dock gives a feel for how many boats there are. You can’t see the other side, but it’s just as packed. In the distance, part of the fleet, several hundred strong. I’d guess that this view is about 10% of the total. 
Nearby, perhaps a 30 minute run in a dink at high speed, is La Marin, home to a huge marina with more than 1,000 slips. The number of charter boats is daunting. 
Just one of many piers lined with dozens, no hundreds, of cats and monohulls, standing by and ready for you to jump on board and head out on holiday.
Don’t want to head out for a week long charter? Not to worry, you can charter a motorized floating barbecue for a few hours. We have seen these in the past but never out and about. In the wind, nearly 20kts today, I can’t imagine that these would be a whole lot of fun with the umbrella propelling you along in a way that makes the tiny outboard useless. 
Don’t like the idea of a black umbrella in the tropical heat? There are other colors to choose from. Problem solved, or as some local T shirts advertise, “Pani Pwoblem”. I am trying to imagine what happens if the grill won’t light. “Roberto, just squirt more lighter fluid on those, sort of smoldering coals. ” Wooosh!!!! Run away! Run? On second thought, SWIM AWAYYYYY!
Anyway, St Anne is a nice place to hang out in a less commercial environment and yet still close enough to La Marin to be able to buy most anything you might need.
I’ve been reading about the price of gas in the US going up because of the Russian invasion of Ukraine and everyone is stressed by gas over $4.00 a gallon. Here in Martinique it’s a lot more expensive than that.
I purchased about 5 gallons of gas for the dink and our Honda generator, and the total came to over $50, about $9/gallon. So there, you spoiled Americans! One way to get energy gobbling Americans who seem to think that 15mpg is fine for their family car, would be to charge what the rest of the world does for energy. That would sell a lot of compact cars, PDQ. The folks that say they are fine with cars that get terrible mileage often say “I can afford it!” or “You only live once.” Perhaps they would feel differently if it cost $200 to fill that guzzler up every week.
Anyway, off of my soapbox and back to cruising.
On my way back in my dink from shopping and gassing up in La Marin, I passed these unique sailboats racing in the harbor. It seems that they are called Yoles boats and there is a very active racing fleet. These races draw thousands of spectators. Follow this link for a brief overview of their history. They have an interesting sprit rig. It looks like sailing them is pretty energetic with a large crew working hard to keep the boats upright. 
Note how they are steered. No fancy rudder, just an oar sticking way out the back. With all that sail way up in the bow, I expect that the boat has a lot of weather helm so having the long oar way out back will give it a lot of leverage. 
Better yet, check out this brief video that gives a pretty good feel for how exciting the races are.And finally, to the topic of this post…
A major focus of cruisers, for many years now, has been connectivity. The ability to get email and stay in touch with family and friends while “off the grid”.
This has been a perennial frustrati and while connectivity gets better each season, increased expectations always seem to outstrip progress. In the past, the first question asked by anyone when they arrived in a harbor was “where is the best wifi”. Now, not so much, with the advent of cellular service that can power a hotspot, offering fairly good access to all but the largest files. Having said that, the service quality can change hour to hour, sometimes amazing and sometimes less so…
In spite of things getting better it is still amazing how much data you can purchase for a reasonable cost in the islands. While fuel is hugely expensive, when compared to the US, data is a pretty reasonably priced. For about $45 we get 70 gigs of data for a month, more than enough for most applications with the possible exception of watching movies every night.
The ability to do a blog post from the boat or a zoom meeting with family, all without worrying constantly about running out of data, is a real improvement over years past.
A standout, and not in a good way, on the data front for us, was when we were in Cuba in 2016 and there was no way to use our cell phone or even have access to wifi any kind for the entire two months that we were there. Being in Cuba was a wonderful experience overall, but it was hugely tempered by being nearly totally isolated from family for the entire time.
Here we are, a little over 5 years later and we can talk to family every day, sometimes more than once and even use video in some areas. It’s a huge change and certainly one for the better.
In spite of the vast improvement in connectivity, it can be very frustrating as service quality varies greatly from hour to hour and place to place. In some areas we can easily watch videos and download the current issues of the NY Times, Wallstreet Journal and Times of London to keep up on the latest news. In other areas, not so much.
As an example, for this post, I did a search to learn more about the Yoles boats and previewed the video that I embedded above. A few years ago there was no way that I could do that from aboard Pandora. Now I can.
Yes, being aboard and cruising for the winter involves accepting that we are not nearly as well connected as we are in the US but after years of searching for Wifi ashore to get even access to email, it is a huge improvement to be able to do most everything we wish from aboard, albeit in moderation lest we run out of the allowable data before the end of the month.
Who knows what the next few years will bring but I am sure that it will be great. The big question will be if the reality will fall short of our ever expanding desire to remain in touch.
For now, between my Google Fi phone and the Digicell data plan, at least we feel more connected than ever. I can only imagine what lies ahead and hope that we are still cruising to enjoy what will come.
Besides, when temperatures drop to the low double digits at home, it’s nice to be here, spending time swimming and visiting Tiki bars to watch the sun go down, like this one, a few steps from the dinghy dock.
I think I’ll have another Lorraine and make that a 50cl grande. See, I can speak French after all. 
For now, we are making the best of what we have and are enjoying sharing video calls with family, especially our three grandchildren Tori, Rhette and Emme.
It’s so great when we ask, “can you hear me now” and they say YES! Well, at least some of the time. It’s better than it was and for now so I’ll take it.
Yippee!
Of course,
Our time in Fort de France was punctuated by constant rolling by passing ferries so it’s nice to be away from that.
A particular highlight of this area is that there are loads of turtles. Yesterday I was swimming under Pandora and saw one, perhaps 20′ in diameter, munching away on grass under the boat in about 15′ of water. I swam down and was able to touch, more like pet him on his/her shell. He didn’t seem to be particularly alarmed by my attention and slowly swam away. It was quite thrilling, I’ll admit.
There are also a number of pretty amazing boats here, including two restored French fishing boats. Biche, is the last surviving traditional tuna boat. She was brought back from an abandoned hulk a number of years ago when she was restored in France. She’s quite impressive with her unusual yawl rig. 
We had seen her sailing in Les Saintes a few weeks ago. 
She is accompanied by a smaller and not quite as well maintained cousin, on a nearby mooring. 
Of course, Pandora looks ok herself, framed by trees on the beach. 
There are a lot of folks snorkeling in the bay with dive boats heading out multiple times a day. Some are heading far afield with others just bringing folks to nearby rocky beaches. Yesterday, when I was talking photos of those two classics, I saw a group on the beach nearby, waving wildly to a dive boat and. A short time later a rescue chopper appeared. 
They hovered over the beach and dropped two EMTs while an inflatable launch ran up on the beach at high speed, delivering a patient.
The chopper continued to circle around the area, kicking up sand and spray before landing in a nearby field.
The took the stricken swimmer up under some trees and for what seemed like way too long, they worked aggressively to revive him with a series of techs applying CPR.
Eventually, an ambulance arrived but there didn’t seem to be any urgency at that point to transport the patient to the hospital. I am guessing that the outcome wasn’t good.
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. 
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.