What a contrast Dominica is to Martinique.
After motoring most of the 30 miles from Martinique to
Dominica and with our all-over tans nicely topped up,
we were met as, at 2.00pm, we approached the mooring
buoy immediately in front of the Anchorage Hotel,
Roseau (the capital), by Pancho in his water taxi, and
set up a trip for the next day to a couple of tourist
hot spots - Trafalgar Falls and Emerald pool. We were
only yards from the dinghy dock of the hotel, so it
wasn't long before I'd paid 10 EC Dollars (2.5 pounds,
4 US Dollars) to use the hotel's fresh water pool
(these are pretty rare sights in the caribbean) and
loos. Such luxury - better than actually staying in
the hotel, having one's luxury yacht tied up outside
it.
The tourist trip was superb. We were at the 80 foot
high Trafalgar Falls by 9.00 am before anyone else and
all of us enjoyed a great frolic in the pool - fresh
water again, this is becoming a real holiday. Then off
to Emerald Pool - yet another waterfall, falling into
a large and, yes, emerald coloured pool - yet another
frolic in cool fresh water. And of course our driver,
Batman, showed us all the spices on the way - nutmeg,
cinnamon, lemon grass, tamarind etc etc - enough to
rival the spice island Grenada's range.
Then back to the yacht, back to the hotel, more fresh
water, lazing around the pool - wow. Dave joined me
here and we met Inga from Greenland! - she thought the
pool was cold, would you believe. Then we met an Inca
from Peru (can't remeber her name but she was
gorgeous) - it turns out that there's a major
conference on for indigenous tribes in Roseau and
tonight was their party night. As mongrels from
America and down-town Birmingham, England, there's no
way we could gatecrash that event.
So we finish up our time in Roseau with a meal on
board and a couple of drinks at the hotel before
setting off the next morning up the coast some 20
miles to our second and final stop in Dominica -
Portsmouth, in Prince Rupert Bay at the northern end
of the island. The scenery we pass is breathtaking -
this island has 7 volcanoes, 365 rivers (they say),
and the whole lot is covered in dense vegetation,
mainly rainforest.
Having motored all the way on the calmest sea yet, and
with our suntans topped up again, we arrive at noon to
be met by Albert in his water taxi and book him for
the next morning to take us to yet another tourist hot
spot - the Indian River. But before that: it's an
afternoon stroll (i.e a masochistic treck in the heat
up a big hill and back) to Fort Shirley on the north
of the bay. Loads of historical interest here - the
English built it, the French tried to attack it in
1805 but were turned back etc etc.
And so to yesterday morning, Friday, for our trip up
the river. We saw humming birds, herons, egrets, land
crabs, red crabs, mullet - but none of the island's
native parrot - with so many varieties of manggroves,
ferns, etc that our minds were a blur before long.
(Well, mine's a blur most of the time anyway.) Lovely
unique trip.
Yesterday afternoon we had nothing planned, but as
soon as the skipper said 'I think there's some
painting to be done' Dave and I immediately decided
that we would go for a snorkel from the beach round
the corner despite the fact that it was raining and
cloudy and that the sea didn't look too clear. Off we
set for the two mile walk and soon alighted upon what
looked like a roadside rum still. It turned out to be
a bay leave oil plant in what looked like a totally
delapidated state but Joseph, the owner, explained the
process to us and it was amazing to behold: there is a
furnace boiling water, the steam from which gently
lifts the oil from leaves scattered on a sieve, and
the resulting emulsion/vapour travels down a
water-cooled tube into a resevoir, where the oil
seperates out on top and the water below travels over
a swan neck to waste. The smell was very aromatic - I
bet Joseph never gets a cold.
By this time thirst was becoming a priority and the
sea was far too murky for swimming so off we went to
this tiny wooden-with-corrugated-steel-roof roadside
grocers cum bar. We had a ball! The 70 year old granny
Jemima (she lives in the tiny back room with her
grandson staying with her) served us to rum and
ice/coke, her 68 year old friend came in and joined us
to make up a foresome, and the lad from next door
brought a couple of green coconuts in so we all
switched to coconut milk and gin. Then: how to get
back two miles to the boat to help the skipper with
his painting (we are in no fit state to walk it by
this time)? No problem - another lad rides up on his
50 cc 150-year-old motor scooter and gives us a lift
back, one at a time of course. Unfortunately the
skipper had finished painting by the time we returned
- and in any case it was already time for our
pre-prandial gin and tonic before setting off for
chicken and chips at the Turtle Dove cafe.
Over this sumptuous supper, I decided, as editor in
chief of the Mollymawk Caribbean Newsletter, to
interview the skipper and Dave on the subject of: what
is it that each of us, strangers only some 6 weeks
ago, would like to record are the things which have
really annoyed each other in the intimate space called
a 40 foot luxury yacht, as I know our readers spread
over half the globe would be interested to find out?
I was
expecting that first off against me would be my
smoking - there have been times, I feely admit, when
the deck has looked as though one of the many
volcanoes round here had spewed ash all over us. And I
do know that I can be a pain in the arse (that's butt
in American) sometimes But no, our lovely skipper
spoils the whole article by saying that 'if there are
problems I like to deal with them on a one-to-one
basis; minor things don't - and shouldn't - register;
he was slightly concerned by the Brit-US banter at one
stage but he realised over time that it was all in
good fun (which Dave and I wholeheartedly endorsed);
and that he's only ever had a problem once and that
was with two women crew members.
Dave chips in to say that the only incident for him was when I skipped
lunch at McDonald's, and I have to round it off by
saying it's been a pleasure all the way for me and
thanks for the toleration. How's all that for bloody
boring.
It's 8.00 am Saturday, Dave and the skipper have just
gone off to do some last minute shopping and we'll be
setting sail for Guadeloupe very shortly.
So: that's Dominica, with a fair bit to see and marvel
at, with such lovely friendly people again that
Martinique will hopefully prove to be just an unhappy
one off. But: we still have another bit of France,
Guadeloupe, for which we will set out tomorrow, in our
path before we reach Antigua.