Alone at Last St. Barthelemey, Feb 17-20, 2006

Sailboat | Voyages | Log

St. Barts: The French Riviera of the Caribbean A frog leg appetizer Maybe that's why the French are called Frogs? The beautiful bay of Gustavia, St. Barts You can see the outline of St. Martin in background With a broken watch band My watch has turned into a necklace Electrician tape is good reinforcer for band aids A Caribbean lunch of beer and ribs While scootering around St. Barts Loading the dinghy at Gustavia Check out those yachts in the background Karen preparing dinner in Columbier Bay, St. Barts Isn't she cute! As the first step in our passage south, we had a nice sail from Marigot Bay in St. Martin over to St. Barts. By the time we cleared customs, bought some French pastries, and checked out of the Fort Louis Marina, it was 11 am before we raised our sails to sail close hauled around the north end of St. Martin. Once rounding the north side of St. Martin, we sailed to the inside of the island of Tintamarre, closed hauled at 158 degrees, straight for St. Barts. It was about fifteen miles as the pelican flies, but due to some long tacks to get around the north end of St. Martin, it took us about six hours. Peter and Diane left in the nick of time. Their gentle winds and seas transformed into the more aggressive conditions typical of the Caribbean: 22 knot winds with five foot swells. We set two reefs in the main and two in the jib. The sail was more challenging than usual because we had to tack around the north side of St. Martin and dodge rocks and small islands on the way to St. Barts. Except for one mild glitch it was a perfect way to begin our trip south. Toward the end of the afternoon, as I was down below trying to use the toilet, I got instantly sea sick. I barely made it topside to empty my stomach overboard. How strange. After sailing over a thousand miles on the ocean, I get sick on a short one day sail. I was irritated to say the least. Perhaps it was rougher than I thought. Clearly, I had lost my sea legs. The good thing is it was quick. After a good barf, I was fine. Like life, sailing is full of surprises and unexpected twists of fait. The routine is never routine. We arrived at a small bay on the northwest end of St. Barts called Columbier about 5 pm, just in time to lasso a free mooring ball and tuck ourselves in for the night. No dinghies to mess with; we ate on board. We will clear customs in the morning. With no night life ashore to distract us, we watched a movie on Karen’s portable DVD player. In keeping with our nautical theme, we watched the first movie in a set of Horatio Hornblower movies, based on the novels by C.S. Forester. It is a rollicking high-seas adventure. Horatio began his career in the British Navy in 1793 in a war with France as a midshipman at the age of 17. He finds his sea-legs and marks himself as a future leader in the British Navy. I am using French weather forecasts as a vehicle to practice my French. They are challenging, because they use lots of idioms. To aid me in the process, I have loaded a monster unabridged French/English dictionary on my PC. Here are a few words you don’t see every day, unless of course you’re reading ocean weather forecasts: Alize - Trade wind Grains - Squalls Houle - Swell Large - Ocean, off shore Noeuds - Knots Nuages - Clouds Orage - Thunderstorm Prevision - Forecast Rafales - Gusts Temps - Weather Vague - Wave Vent - Wind Our second night in St. Barts was a little more stressful than the first. After spending the night in Columbier Bay, we motored over to the Gustavia, the port with the split personality. It is clearly French, but it has a Swedish history. In 1784, The French needed money and they sold the island to Sweden. Unlike the Louisiana Purchase, they managed to get St. Barts back in 1877. We found a place close in to anchor and took Two Pi ashore to clear customs and check out the town. After a pleasant uneventful day, we returned to Full Circle to find that the wind had shifted, and she had been bumping into the adjacent boat. By now it was getting dark and a squall was coming through. I decided to take a second anchor in the dinghy and drop it off the stern. Just as I was about to drop it in the water, the harbor master approached and asked me to move my boat, no he insisted that I move my boat. By now it was dark, raining, blowing, and very stressful. I motored Two Pi back to Full Circle, with the second anchor, and began the harrowing process of re-anchoring in the dark and the rain. Of course, now, in the dark, our hand singles were no longer effective, and we had to resort to shouting over the distance, wind, and rain. It was not a fun experience, but we did it. To avoid any unnecessary complications, we placed ourselves on the outside edge of the bay, making for a very rolly night. With our unpleasant anchoring experience behind us, we spent a beautiful day touring St. Barts on a motor scooter. We climbed mountain roads, discovered beach front restaurants, swam on pristine beaches, and collected shells for necklaces. All the unpleasant memories from the night before were erased and our mind was reprogrammed to the beauty of the Caribbean. We could easily have spent more time here, but Guadeloupe was calling. We stayed aboard our third night in St. Barts and watched the second episode of Hornblower. He sees battle with the Spainards off Gilbralter and matures as a leader. The next morning, we pulled anchor and headed for Statia, course 215 degrees, 25 miles away. Previous| Next