Still Northing the Leeward Islands

We feel lost in time as we wander from island to island northward. We stay in one place until something prods us to leave, sometimes weather, sometimes officialdom which defines our cruising time. We thought we had a year to stay in Martinique, but it was a trick of the different method of writing dates (month first) and we suddenly had to scurry to check out.

We provisioned well in Fort de France, Martinique (wasabi!), I got a chic, short haircut and, with some difficulty, kept myself out of the millinery boutique crowded with feathers, fancy ribbons and leopard trims (where would I put the hats I fashioned?)

Next stop was Portsmouth Harbor, Dominica, where the local boat boys are organized and professional. We hired a taxi for a day to tour the island, especially impressed with the Caribe village with descendents of the eponymous tribe of Indians who originally settled these islands, killing off indigenous peaceful Arawak Indians as well as proving fierce opposition to the European colonizers. The present day Caribes call themselves Kalinago, partly to avoid their reputation for being canibals. Tthe local manner of baking cassava bread was impressive , using a foot-operated grater to prepare the taro root that has fed tropical natives for millenia. The short, oriental-looking Kalinago baker mixed the grated cassava with coconut and sugar cane, then baked round flat patties on a section of old iron cannon he heated over an open wood fire. it was delicious.

Dominica is unspoiled and spectacularly beautiful with 7 volcanoes and 365 rivers. We were advised to arrive early for the weekly market on Saturday morning. Partying begins on Friday night, the farmers arrive from the countryside about 3:00 a.m. to start setting out their fresh produce on the closed-off streets, and the revelers routinely buy up the best greens before they head home for bed.

It was an easy day-sail north to The Saints, a group of small islands off the south coast and part of Guadeloupe, and we were back into the routine of French baguettes, croissants and a local specialty cake called tourmants d'amour--a 4" cake/tart with guava or passion fruit filling, delivered to our boat at 0700 hrs. daily. We rented motor scooters to tour the island, which we easily could have circled twice even stopping to swim at every beach. It was my first time driving a scooter and I felt like a tough Harley biker babe, until the iguana I stopped to admire by the side of the road reared up and hissed at my tire, only inches from my ankle making me squeek and careen away.

A week passed and we headed to Antigua (An-tee-Gah), breaking up the trip to sleep in Deshaies (Day-hay), on the NW coast of Guadeloupe. As we came into to the anchorage we admired a superyacht clipper-bow ketch about 100 yds off our port bow. It wasn't until we had covered our sails and jumped into the water that Bill noticed the name Islandia on her boom-- my (favorite) (only) Uncle Harvey's boat. She didn't answer our radio hail and we didn't want to bother inflating our dinghy--which Bill is adamant about not towing, but let's not get started on that topic-- so I donned bathing suit, snorkle and fins to swim over. I bobbed and yelled (you can't just knock on the hull of a 130' yacht and expect anyone to hear) until my uncle came out into the cockpit. He's deaf (85 yrs.) and it took several minutes to figure out who this crazy lady in the water was. It was a great surprise for us all and we enjoyed quality time together in a way we've rarely had.

The superyachts in Falmouth Harbor, Antigua left our jaws hanging. You can google Maltese Falcon and Elena to get some idea of our neighbors.

We enjoyed two very touristy things on Antigua: a "Rainforest Canopy Zipline Tour" and snorkeling with stingrays. Although Antigua has no rainforest and it wasn't really canopy, it was lovely woods and we had a grand time riding 9 ziplines back and forth across creeks and rocky stream beds. The tour finished with a ropes challenge course; Bill had no problem and I was pleased my body still has some grace and balance. The toughest part of the tour was having to wear real shoes (sneakers, but still...).

We moved north to Barbuda and are now ending a 2-week stay at Spanish Point on the isolated southern coast, surrounded by reefs, dolphins and wild donkeys. Fast, free Internet is courtesy of the all-inclusive Cocoa Point resort about 4 miles away, where you can relax on the pink sand beach in front of our boat for a mere $1,000 per night per person. We figure we've saved $24,000 during this anchorage, enjoying all the same benefits of snorkeling and swimming, although I had to do the cooking.

We're out of beer so we'll leave tonight for the French side of St. Martin. We have no plan for how long we'll stay--we want to scuba dive at nearby Saba, and pick up some boat parts. We want to get to the British Virgin Islands soon to haul-out for painting Act III's bottom. A few days at anchor and we have a veritable forest growing underneath, home to god-knows-what critters. Even though Bill scraped 80 percent of it off, Act III still provides enough food and shelter for lots of little creatures. We hear them chomping at night.

We think about everyone a lot, and sometimes we wish you were here; but this time of the year, we never wish we were there.