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Sorry about this.  I keep thinking of things i've forgotten to mention.  Looking back at a few photos helps me remember.

Did i mention that in Puerto Rico, at the marina, there were two open air (with roof) domino pavilions?  Really.  And there was a name on their shingle, like “The Ramon Suarez domino pavilion.”  Boy, HE must have been a good player.

I forgot to mention – after driving in Virgin Gorda – they have speed dips instead of speed bumps.  Our theory is that the dips may direct the water from torrential rains off the pavement better than speed bumps.  And they’re good at slowing traffic down too. 

Then there was Jolly Harbor in Antigua, where we rendezvoused with Jessica.  (how can one not go to a place named “jolly?”)  Antigua was where we caught up with some maintenance – fixed a leaky faucet, checked the jib halyard sheave at the top of the mast, patched the dinghy (again and on-going)…and sent an e-mail to Sandra and Barry to expect us a day later than first planned.  Catching a ride into town for parts, i recalled the saying, "you haven't really visited a foreign country until you ride their public transit."  On Antigua, the better of the transits are all the mini-vans.  The busses?  They sit at their terminal in town and wait until they are full before they get underway.  I'm not very good at waiting.  

From there we beat some more to make our way to historic (not commercial) English Harbor.  Admiral Horatio Nelson based the Caribbean English Fleet out of here around 1800.  So we walked the same cobblestones he and his navy walked.  Akimbo's anchor dug into the same mud Nelson's anchor dug into.  We feel like we are part of history too now.  Which we all are, y'know. 

 

On Terre-de-haut (the largest of the Guadeloupe islands in the “five saints” island group) there are very few cars while there are very many scooters.  Very French, oui, oui.  Jessica and i rented one to get to Fort Napoleon. 

The standard of living on the islands that are “dependencies” of European countries is “higher” than that of the independent islands...  The financial benefits are obvious tho i’m sure it doesn’t come without some costs too.

On the British isles…the unhappiest people were the uniformed bureaucrats working at customs and immigration.   Consistently so.  While at the “French” islands…arriving at Guadaloupe, i felt lucky to find the customs office.  But there i found a page taped on its door, in French and a little English, directing me to “The Pelican” gift shop on 81 Main Street.  There i found a smiling civilian rather than a frowning uniformed bureaucrat.  He had a couple of computer terminals in a corner of his store.  $6 later, he printed out and stamped a page and told me to enjoy my visit.  Now that’s progress. 

More camera chaos…it got dropped.  It took a few more shots but soon quit working.  If i add more photos to the blog, they will come from my crew or else another new camera. 

Our visit to Guadeloupe was delightful.  We snorkeled at a Natural Reserve named for Jacques Cousteau.  As we left the Saintes…a 183’ square rigged ship came in.  Nice surprise.  We made the 20 or so miles to Dominica (pronounced Domineek).  As we approached Portsmouth we met one of the famous Dominican “boat boys” – Alexis.  See, Dominicans are relatively poor.  And years ago they recognized that the yachts stopping by represented a LOT of money.  Inequity being what it is, they got aggressive about getting some of that money…and scared away the yachties.  Next evolution, they organized to eclipse their desperation.  Now they welcome yachts, direct them to anchorages where the boat boys will patrol to keep the truly desperate at bay.  Alexis knew where to take me for customs and immigration…in his skiff (i didn’t even have to use Sea Cow).  He knew where everything was and had “all the answers.”  Still it was an almost hour long process, during which we found Sandra (our next new crew member).  The “boat boys” is a term of respect here.  And they hold a barbeque on Sunday nights, $20 per ticket, to fund their patrol.  Luck had it that we arrived on a Sunday.  Oh boy!  So that night we met a lot of other yachties.  Jim and i pumped them for all the local knowledge we could get…and got full bellies and a little drunk in the process.  (I hope Sandra doesn’t expect a party every night).

We made the south end of the island the next day.  Jessica, Jim, Heather and Sandra went ashore, did some reprovisioning and found a cab driver/tour guide to give them a ride to some  waterfalls (apparently this little “impenetrable” island has 300 rivers).  I did boat chores and prepped pasta putanesca for dinner.  Yum!  So Sandra got to acclimate to this adventure with an easy day’s sail and adventuring with new friends ashore.  Perfect. 

The next day she experienced a day of sailing that had five sail changes (including the “iron genny” for a few hours) over 48nm to Fort de France in Martinique.  A metropolis!...the difference between where we came from and where we got to was huge.  Shortly after we dropped anchor i heard Akimbo being hailed on the vhf radio.  Barry was calling from the nearby customs office.  As soon as Sea Cow was ready, i picked him up and we welcomed him aboard.  The next morning we all split up and were tourists.  Fun but exhausting…as opposed to our next idyllic anchorage only 10 or so nm away. 

After that it was 20 nm to the yachting capitol of Martinique – Marin.  Which is where Jessica departed Akimbo (thank you again for your help and enthusiasm) and where i sit while i write this entry.  As we make our way here, i wonder what views i am seeing that my brother saw when he backpacked here in 1968 or '69.

And somewhere in between, i got tired of my longer than usual hair.  Heather helped me out with the clippers.  

I have never seen such a density of yachts as there are here in Marin.  Combine ALL the marinas in Puget Sound…and still there are more yachts in Marin.  So there are services to take advantage of here.  The stop solenoid on the engine failed recently.  We were pulling a jury rigged string to stop the engine.  I am proud to have traced it to a corroded relay – which a store here had in stock.  Still, i know “chaos never sleeps.”  The jib is worrying me a bit, as much wear as it is showing, but we are here on the weekend and the lofts are closed.  I wouldn’t want to be without “my favorite sail.”  So i’ll try to add some stitches here and there and hope it makes it thru the trip. 

From the crew:  awesome rum, yummy boulangeries, butchering a foreign language, great stylish European clothing in the boutiques (this from a woman who prefers goodwill? even she is tempted), nice nice people – fond memory of the boat boys’ barbeque, great snorkeling…  The Carib weather is being kind to us.  Yes, it is hot.  But the tradewinds (now on our beam) make it tenable.  And a couple times a day a squall cools us with some rain.  Did i already say what i am feeling?  I don’t know why i am grateful but i am grateful to “see” this corner of the world.  As every place is, this one is it’s own, it is unique.  As are the people who inhabit it.  Is there something holy about each time and place and person?

We are warned that St. Vincent has more crime…yet we have to make a rendezvous unwittingly made for that island.  So we’ve made a plan that will minimize our exposure there and take care of meeting and departing.  So far…so good.