Soufriere turned out, largely, to be a
dissappointment. A new road is being built along the
front, so currently there's lots of noise and dust; it
is very much a shanty town (apart from a pretty big
Catholic church stuck in the muddle); the snorkelling
proved poor; there is no dinghy dock; and bars,
restaurants,'phone and internet facilities leave a lot
to be desired. Also, the people here in St Lucia seem
less friendly then St Vincent and the Grenadines and
of a different ancestory - they are probably descended
from different African tribes.
Anyway, we managed to 'have a nice day' yet again -
with all of us resting for the evening competition.
And what a contest this is turning out to be: Dennis
won for Canada, thus breaking the stranglehold of the
superpower and the motherland.
Talking about Dennis: his departure (on Saturday, not
Friday as I previously thought) is going to be a sad
occassion for several reasons. Firstly, disbandonment
of the International Chase the Lady Competition.
Secondly, he is truly, like the skipper, one of life's
gentlemen - they epitomise one of the great pleasures
of taking the risk of sailing with strangers (as
compared to Dave who reminds one of the opposite).
Thirdly, after 12 days with us he's nearly a fully
trained member of the crew - for instance, it was a
full two days ago that he fully mastered making tea
and coffee totally unaided - all that investment will
now go to waste.
We left Soufriere early yesterday morning for what
turned out to be a great day, with me, Coxy, winning
the prize back from Dave of Mollymawk Plonker - more
of that later. We started by motoring round the point
to Anse Chastanet, a small bay dominated by a swish
hotel of the same name - Dennis stayed here 20 or so
years ago so went off (in the dinghy, on his own, with
only the oars for propulsion - the growing confidence
of a nascent mariner) to revisit it. The rest of us
went for a snorkel, which turned out to be very good -
clear water, some coral, and lots of fish in great
variety. Would you believe that we can identify having
seen the following species of fish so far amongst
others: spotted moray, trumpetfish, sand diver,
squirrel fish - several types, coney, red hind, copper
sweeper, tomtate, yellow goat fish, cherubfish,
foureye butterflyfish, yellowtail damsel fish,
yellowhead wrasse, spotted parrotfish, smooth trunk
fish, spiny puffer, flying gurnard, sergeant major and
blue chromis: and of course several types of coral -
elkhorn, finger, brain, pillar, fire and common sea
fan.
Then off we went, at about 11.00 am, some five miles
up the coast to Anse Cochon, yet another superb little
bay with its own hotel - the rooms are pretty
individual chalets scattered up the hillside. Yet
another good snorkel, then an invasion by day
trippers. We had at one time three big catamarans and
a big old three-masted sailing ship for neighbours,
disgorging scores of happy (mostly white/pink/red )
people into the sea for their programmed 45 minutes
each. We are obviously entering the tourist area
bigtime here.
It was here I collected my plonker award. We (or
rather I, to be specific) had tied up to a bouy
(boo-ee), had eaten lunch (the last, thank god, of all
that tuna) and had settled down for half an hour, when
Dave announced that we had come adrift. We were
floating freely towards the rocks and had to motor
back to our previous position and tie up again. Now,
for my friends at the Fox and certainly my crew of
yesteryear, plus my new American friends who have been
avidly following these newsletters, this may seem a
reversion to my old ways rather than a momentary
abberation by a highly skilled and experienced
yachtsman. Well, you can think what you bloodywell
like - I've already had enough stick off dave the Yank
to last me a lifetime, and I swear that if he tells me
he saved the boat singlehandedly one more time I'll
throttle him. (As compared to the skipper: I can't
believe he took this so calmly.) I just wish to say
that throughout this voyage, either or both of me and
Dave have been at the ready like coiled springs to
deal with any eventuality and this was just one of
many - it so happens that this time we were 5 minutes
at the most from total disaster but that doesn't in my
book make it a big deal.
And then off we went to Marigot Bay, another 4 miles
up the coast which is where we now are. It is a truly
delightful anchorage - I can't think of a nicer one
that I've visited anywhere in the Caribbean. There a
loads of yachts here very close together, a charter
company's fleet (the Moorings), a hotel, some gorgeous
houses on the hillside, bars, shops and joy upon joy,
showers with hot water. (The only negative is that we
can't snorkel in here - it's too crowded/dirty.) As we
say in Birmingham, England, a pig in shit couldn't be
happier than me at the moment. After a lovely evening
involving a shower, drinks and a meal last night, we
are now all just lazing around. The skipper's playing
with a hole in the dinghy (well, he is 75), Dennis and
Dave are ashore, and it's only 9.00 am. What we shall
do to fill up the day I haven't a clue. But I bet it
will be hot and sunny again - although we have been
having a fair bit of cloud of late.
Oh I forgot to tell you something which I'm sure will
interest you. We've had an outbreak of diarrhoea (see,
I can spell when I put my mind to it) on board. Cause:
unknown, although Dave did present us with tuna stew
on Tuesday night. At 4.30 am this morning I had my
latest attack and found at the appropriate point in
the necessary proceedings that there was only 6 inches
(2 squares) of loo paper available (the rest of the
stock residing under Dennis's bed). (Do you ever have
the presence of mind in such circumstances to check
loo paper availability before proceedings start
proper?) I supplemented this with paper towel from the
galley and then had the presence of mind not to throw
that down the loo as it would for sure have blocked
the dreaded flap valve.
Two major disasters avoided in one day - I'm pushing
my luck.
Friday 22nd February
2.00 pm It was after lunch yesterday that we decided
to sail up from Marigot Bay to Rodney Bay, our last
stop in St Lucia, only a few miles up the coast. This
is a big and handsome bay, and we headed straight for
a berth in the marina - and there aren't that many
marinas yet in the Caribbean. The ultimate in luxury:
we can just step off the boat to hot showers,
telephones, internet, bars, laundry, shops any time we
individually like. I've had two showers already.
After a meal last night we had yet another round of
the International Chase the Lady Competition. However,
I am going to say no more about it because the intense
level of competitive rivalry that it has generated is
becoming counterproductive to teamworking on the boat
and even worse embarrassment for the skipper. (And if
this makes you think Dave won so I've lost, that's
your own unsubstantiated conclusion.) The same goes
for for the 'current plonker' award - except to say
enigmatically that after what occurred yesterday I may
not still be the holder.
This morning we all caught a taxi and visited Castrie,
the capital of St Lucia. We spent 1 hour seeing all
that there was to see, Dave and I dived into the
nearest bar and the skipper and Dennis went back to
the boat. There are in fact two memorable points.
Firstly, today is the 23rd anniversary of St Lucia's
independence (from Britain) and Dave and I went up to
Cultural Park to see the colourful ceremonies being
conducted involving beautifully and brighty dressed
schoolchildren. Geoff will remember that last year we
visited Grenada's equivalent - to be exact, on 8th
February 2001 (it's still marked in my Sailor's Guide
which we are using). Secondly, that Castries boasts
two Nobel Prize Winners, after one of whom the main
square in the town is named - Derek Walcott (he
received it in 1992, the same year independence was
granted).
We went to a lovely little bar for lunch run by Andrew
from Leamington Spa, just 20 miles from where I live.
He is apparently an ace fisherman and like me just
could not believe that Dave hasn't caught a fish yet.
He analysed his technique and suggested that Dave try
tying an elastic band on to his line next time to keep
the lure below the surface. So Dave is on to a loser
both ways now - if he does manage to catch anything,
it will all be down to the advice given by my fellow
Brit, and if he doesn't it's continued superpower
incompetence.
As I type, Dave is asleep (he's not much company most
of the time) and the other two have gone off on a trek
to Pigeon Island National Park - including its fort.
Those two 75 year olds certainly have stamina.
Tomorrow marks the start of another chapter in our
voyage. Dennis leaves us for home, and we sail off to
Martinique some 25 miles away. Martinique is part of
France, so we'll have to get used to spending Euro's
and perhaps talking a bit of French to the natives.
In the meantime we shall enjoy chilling out in this
marina - must go and collect the laundry, ring Peg,
etc etc.
Finally in this newsletter: to cheer you all up a bit
back in England and northern USA: it rained heavily in
the night, it is cool (by Caribbean standards) and
cloudy - but our bodies can do with a bit of a rest
from the heat and the sun.
Saturday 23rd February
6.30 am STOP PRESS: My cup overfloweth: for Den's
farewell dinner, we went to the Razmataz, a Balti
Indian restaurant. (For my American audience: Balti
curries were invented in Birmingham England.) Checked
pedigree of chef: he came from Manchester - close
enough. Good meal - and we've brought enough back in
the doggy bag for another. Played final of
International Chase the Lady Competition and after
some realignment of the teams, I can divuge that the
final score is: USA 3, British Commonwealth 4. Bad
luck Dave - you must learn from the masters how to
make friends internationally. Post game: Dave and I
had a few drinks at the bar where kareoke was in
progress - have you ever seen someone trying to do
karoeke rap? Highly amusing. Must be off to Martinique
now. End.