If one ventures to get fuel from Rivere Sens one should be ready to jump down from the boat (not too hard since there is no wind), find a bollard to tie (harder, since there are only two, one at the dead corner of the dock, where a big fishing boat was tied almost next to the fuel dock. The other bollard was at the opposite end but inside corner.) Morevover, get ready for abuse from the attendants, who do not speak a work of English themselves, and think that all English speakers are idiots. If you can past the hurdles, diesel is the cheapest in the Caribbean; 1.00 Euro a litre.
Since our helm is on the port side and Al wanted to see what I would be doing, he turned around and approached the dock from the port side. Our cleat for the back tie is almost halfway down the side, which would not give enough space to clear the stationed boat, if I used it, so I pushed the line through the dingy cleat at the stern to tie the boat, to keep the back flush with the dock.
After securing the boat, Al went up to inform the attendant. He came back, and went through the motions as instructed:
(1) Release the nozzle of the left side of the left pump (located at the pier, three or four steps above the dock)
(2) Take the nozzle of the corresponding long hose coiled around the drum on the actual dock
(3) Press on the nozzle to fill your tank.
When Al pressed the handle nothing came out. Al remarked that the pump was not working. So he went up again, came back with a Frenchman (some customer trying to help). Two of them prodded here and there, looked at the other coil of hose, but everything seemed to be in order. The good Samaritan went back up, and still nothing happened. After Al's third request, the attendant could not help but come all the way down, throwing up his arms, rolling his eyes, and shouting " le gauch, le gauch, mon Dieu". Well we know, we got the one at "le gauch", but there was no power. Poor Al was saying "n'est pa electricite", to no awail. But after seeing that it was not our fault, he went back up and dealt with the start up at his computer. At last it worked for the port tank.
When Al took the nozzle to the starboard tank the same story, no go. I told Al that the pump counter had not cleared, hence not allowing a second usage. Another trip up and down, finally we filled the tanks, which took us more than an hour (ten minutes tops in any other fuel dock).
Ridiculous!
Monday, March 7, 2016
RIVIERE SENS - ONE WORD TO SUM IT UP: RIDICULOUS
There is a small anchorage at the mouth of the little hole-in-the-wall bay, which is completely occupied by the Riviere Sens Marina. In order to clear the vessel into Guadaloupe on the west coast, everybody has to stop there and use the computer of one of the restaurants located in the marina.
There were two boats moored, and one big boat on anchor close to the entrance of the marina when we came. We turned around the small indentation of a beach, which was quite deep until very close to the shore, while the wind was blowing from West - Northwest. Al was reluctant to go too far into the beach in that kind of winds, so we anchored about 20 ft of water, not too far from one of the moored boats. Before we anchored, I tried to connect to the marina to see if we could get a berth for one night, to replenish our fuel and water. There was no response from the marina, so we had to venture anchoring in deeper and too-close-for-comfort conditions.
We left Ruyam II a little after the noon hour, in a hurry to clear in, and dingied to the marina from the narrow channel. I spotted the fuel dock on the right side of the channel, right before the marina docks started, which were full to capacity. There was a seasoned French couple in a dingy in front of us so we thought we should follow them to the dingy dock. They went up to the launching pad at the far corner of the channel, and the lady got her oar in hand, getting close to the ramp. We shouted at them about a dock to tie, and she said "this is it". Whaat?
All the docks were connected to each other by bridges, so there seemed no way of getting into the marina. We went to the east wall (made of big boulders, sloping out) and came up to the bridge, which had a locked gate at the end. There were some guys loitering around the gate, so we asked if there was a dock for us. The young guy got hold of my painter, and pulled the dingy (hard) over the boulders, and tied it to the gate frame. He said "you're good to go". Again, whaat? We used the boulders to step on to get to the dock.
Four years ago we had passed through this place, while the marina was being built (by a Canadian company no less). We had been helped the same way out of our dingy by an islander at that time over the same boulders, although the bridges and docks were not in place. Later on, we had gone by dingy to the north wall of the marina, where a nice dock had been installed in front of the strip of restaurants.
This time, since we had been tied already, we thought to get to the north side on foot, and deal with the clearing in, instead of bothering with the dingy into the unknown. On the way, we passed by the Capitainerie, and tried to speak with the dock master about water/fuel. The glass door was locked, and the inside deserted. It looked like a posh hotel entrance, very clean and airy. No wonder, nobody seems to use it!
We found the restaurant which clearly advertised itself as the customs clearence site, however the lady attendant said in her broken English "impossible". We must have shown despair, since she reluctantly smiled, and showed a small sign, denoting the customs clearing time; only between 15:00 and 18:00 hours. Al almost started an argument, but I interjected and assured her that we could come back. Apparently, she had only one computer, which she did not wish to be meddled with. She was the one entering the information, so needed the noon rush at the restaurant to be over.
She had "reason" in her mind, understandable.
We had about two hours to kill, so we thought of dropping in the fuel dock to see if we could get fuel early next morning, before starting north. We then realized that the ridiculous fuel dock could be used for tying the dingy, but the space behind it was too close to the boulders at various depths of its wall. Scary, but we had to tie the dingy there, and walk up ten steps and some distance to the actual fuel station at the top to find a body. There was an islander attendant at the office, who informed us that they would be open at 6:30 am and would allow us to get fuel, but it was self serve. So we had to tie the boat ourselves, get the attendant turn on the fuel pumps, and do the actual filling ourselves.
Can be done. In the meantime, we asked if they were also selling camper butane bottles, since we had finished one of ours, but had not been able to fill it in St Anne. Al is always nervous if we do not have at least two spare at the boat. Anyway, the attendant said he only had two left, so we should hurry to get it. We rushed back to Ruyam II, got the empty bottle, rushed back, and grabbed it. Al was happy, at least one thing accomplished, and we had killed almost an hour. Win-win.
After putting the bottle safely in the boat, we dingied back to the marina, this time using the western most channel leading up to the north wall, and found a spot to tie on the dock, which was almost covered by big boats tied stern-to. Tying the dingy was one thing, getting out of it onto the dock was another. The new dock was built much higher this time, to accomodate big boats. Nobody cares about outsiders with dingies; maybe it is a safety issue.
We had half an hour to sit at the veranda overlooking our dingy, and have some refreshments. We had earned it running around like crazy. The lady got our clearance paper from Martinique, and some more information, and filled the thing herself. That was good. The best part of French islands is the ease with which clearing in and out can be accomplished. As a matter of fact it can be done at the same time, as long as you know which day you are leaving.
Al further asked her what was up with the marina office, and she said something in French (which we did not understand) and after deliberation she remarked that they were "lazy". Okey, makes sense. VHF does not work, maybe the "capitain de port" has cell phones, and open up the shop when needed. All those boats must have come to the marina at some point in time, although most of them seemed to be long term residents.
There were two boats moored, and one big boat on anchor close to the entrance of the marina when we came. We turned around the small indentation of a beach, which was quite deep until very close to the shore, while the wind was blowing from West - Northwest. Al was reluctant to go too far into the beach in that kind of winds, so we anchored about 20 ft of water, not too far from one of the moored boats. Before we anchored, I tried to connect to the marina to see if we could get a berth for one night, to replenish our fuel and water. There was no response from the marina, so we had to venture anchoring in deeper and too-close-for-comfort conditions.
We left Ruyam II a little after the noon hour, in a hurry to clear in, and dingied to the marina from the narrow channel. I spotted the fuel dock on the right side of the channel, right before the marina docks started, which were full to capacity. There was a seasoned French couple in a dingy in front of us so we thought we should follow them to the dingy dock. They went up to the launching pad at the far corner of the channel, and the lady got her oar in hand, getting close to the ramp. We shouted at them about a dock to tie, and she said "this is it". Whaat?
All the docks were connected to each other by bridges, so there seemed no way of getting into the marina. We went to the east wall (made of big boulders, sloping out) and came up to the bridge, which had a locked gate at the end. There were some guys loitering around the gate, so we asked if there was a dock for us. The young guy got hold of my painter, and pulled the dingy (hard) over the boulders, and tied it to the gate frame. He said "you're good to go". Again, whaat? We used the boulders to step on to get to the dock.
Four years ago we had passed through this place, while the marina was being built (by a Canadian company no less). We had been helped the same way out of our dingy by an islander at that time over the same boulders, although the bridges and docks were not in place. Later on, we had gone by dingy to the north wall of the marina, where a nice dock had been installed in front of the strip of restaurants.
This time, since we had been tied already, we thought to get to the north side on foot, and deal with the clearing in, instead of bothering with the dingy into the unknown. On the way, we passed by the Capitainerie, and tried to speak with the dock master about water/fuel. The glass door was locked, and the inside deserted. It looked like a posh hotel entrance, very clean and airy. No wonder, nobody seems to use it!
We found the restaurant which clearly advertised itself as the customs clearence site, however the lady attendant said in her broken English "impossible". We must have shown despair, since she reluctantly smiled, and showed a small sign, denoting the customs clearing time; only between 15:00 and 18:00 hours. Al almost started an argument, but I interjected and assured her that we could come back. Apparently, she had only one computer, which she did not wish to be meddled with. She was the one entering the information, so needed the noon rush at the restaurant to be over.
She had "reason" in her mind, understandable.
We had about two hours to kill, so we thought of dropping in the fuel dock to see if we could get fuel early next morning, before starting north. We then realized that the ridiculous fuel dock could be used for tying the dingy, but the space behind it was too close to the boulders at various depths of its wall. Scary, but we had to tie the dingy there, and walk up ten steps and some distance to the actual fuel station at the top to find a body. There was an islander attendant at the office, who informed us that they would be open at 6:30 am and would allow us to get fuel, but it was self serve. So we had to tie the boat ourselves, get the attendant turn on the fuel pumps, and do the actual filling ourselves.
Can be done. In the meantime, we asked if they were also selling camper butane bottles, since we had finished one of ours, but had not been able to fill it in St Anne. Al is always nervous if we do not have at least two spare at the boat. Anyway, the attendant said he only had two left, so we should hurry to get it. We rushed back to Ruyam II, got the empty bottle, rushed back, and grabbed it. Al was happy, at least one thing accomplished, and we had killed almost an hour. Win-win.
After putting the bottle safely in the boat, we dingied back to the marina, this time using the western most channel leading up to the north wall, and found a spot to tie on the dock, which was almost covered by big boats tied stern-to. Tying the dingy was one thing, getting out of it onto the dock was another. The new dock was built much higher this time, to accomodate big boats. Nobody cares about outsiders with dingies; maybe it is a safety issue.
We had half an hour to sit at the veranda overlooking our dingy, and have some refreshments. We had earned it running around like crazy. The lady got our clearance paper from Martinique, and some more information, and filled the thing herself. That was good. The best part of French islands is the ease with which clearing in and out can be accomplished. As a matter of fact it can be done at the same time, as long as you know which day you are leaving.
Al further asked her what was up with the marina office, and she said something in French (which we did not understand) and after deliberation she remarked that they were "lazy". Okey, makes sense. VHF does not work, maybe the "capitain de port" has cell phones, and open up the shop when needed. All those boats must have come to the marina at some point in time, although most of them seemed to be long term residents.
ON THE WAY TO ANTIGUA
After staying in St Anne, Martinique for almost two months, we thought moving a little would do us good. Everybody was raving about Antigua, which we had skipped while coming down from BVI four years ago. Antigua is almost accross the sea to the North east of Montserrat, which we had favoured at that time (and for good reason, it was amazing!).
Anyway, we decided to spend the month of March around Antigua, taking our time going up and down, after which, it would be closing the season in and around Grenada. It is incredible how fast this year is going.
As always we watched the weather, which had been very stormy and wet for the last two months (where is the dry season?), but the weather started to calm down for about a week starting on the 27th of February, so we weighed anchor that day from St Anne at 7:00 am towards St Pierre, the North west corner of Martinique.
Selecting a mild weather to sail is contra-intuitive one can say, which forces one to turn on the engines to beat the waves. Even on the first portion of the way going directly west to the Diamond rock, the wind was not strong enough to push us through, despite having sails wing-on-wing. However, we reached our destination
around noon, thanks to our Volvo s.
The passage to Dominica was likewise light on the winds, but with high seas, which again compelled us to use the engines some of the way. Boo!
There was not much change in Rousseau, Dominica, except that Pancho is no more. According to SeaCat (the Greg and Beanie duo), maintaining mooring balls required one to dive, and Pancho was more into land affairs than swimming lately. We had a nice chat with Beanie instead.
Portsmouth (anchorage at the North west of Dominica) was likewise unchanged, but we detected fewer boat-boys, but more professional service from PAYS (the co-operative that maintain and protect the mooring balls). Cobra is likewise seemed to be into bigger things (good for him).
Passage to Guadaloupe was also luck-lustre and tedious with mild wind/high seas. When we reached Rivere Sens, at the South west corner of Guadaloupe, we were quite tired from the constant beating of the waves from 90 degrees.
Anyway, we decided to spend the month of March around Antigua, taking our time going up and down, after which, it would be closing the season in and around Grenada. It is incredible how fast this year is going.
As always we watched the weather, which had been very stormy and wet for the last two months (where is the dry season?), but the weather started to calm down for about a week starting on the 27th of February, so we weighed anchor that day from St Anne at 7:00 am towards St Pierre, the North west corner of Martinique.
Selecting a mild weather to sail is contra-intuitive one can say, which forces one to turn on the engines to beat the waves. Even on the first portion of the way going directly west to the Diamond rock, the wind was not strong enough to push us through, despite having sails wing-on-wing. However, we reached our destination
around noon, thanks to our Volvo s.
The passage to Dominica was likewise light on the winds, but with high seas, which again compelled us to use the engines some of the way. Boo!
There was not much change in Rousseau, Dominica, except that Pancho is no more. According to SeaCat (the Greg and Beanie duo), maintaining mooring balls required one to dive, and Pancho was more into land affairs than swimming lately. We had a nice chat with Beanie instead.
Portsmouth (anchorage at the North west of Dominica) was likewise unchanged, but we detected fewer boat-boys, but more professional service from PAYS (the co-operative that maintain and protect the mooring balls). Cobra is likewise seemed to be into bigger things (good for him).
Passage to Guadaloupe was also luck-lustre and tedious with mild wind/high seas. When we reached Rivere Sens, at the South west corner of Guadaloupe, we were quite tired from the constant beating of the waves from 90 degrees.
Monday, December 21, 2015
PROBLEMS, PROBLEMS AND MORE PROBLEMS
For the last month or so, I have been aware of an awful smell, whenever Al started pumping the head, even if just for water. As well, while sitting at the fore, I saw that refuse was coming out of a discharge hole above water. When I mentioned it, of course Al did not believe me, how is that possible? The discharge for head is under water. Well, I saw what I saw, and then, he saw it too! Odd, is it not?
It took us almost two months to put two and two together. First day free of commitments, Al sat on the toilet and started gazing at the system of valves which connect the discharge. The main discharge valve, which allows the flow from the head as well as from the holding tank through the sea-cock, was closed and stuck; that is to say, the pipe connecting it to the tank was full of refuse.
Last year, when Al opened that valve after the summer season, he had indicated that it was only half opened, but he had been afraid to force it open, lest he would brake the through hull fitting. This year, he said that he had no problem opening it, it was even too easy, and he thought it odd. Apparently he had not opened the valve, he just broke the handle and jammed the valve on that first day. After that, unbenownst to us, every time we used the toilet, we were pumping the discharge into the tank, without ever emptying it. When the poor thing was full, the refuse was over-flowing out through the aspiration line, the bulk of it getting concentrated in the holding tank.
First thing to be done was to empty the tank. So we looke in the Ti' Ponton (the register of all cruser related businesses in Martinique for easy access to sailors). Nothing about sanitation, pump out even no mention of plumbing. The only mention was of plumbing parts sale at Le Ship ( a chandlery in Le Marin). Even Doyle does not mention a plumber. However, a pump out station in St Lucia is advertised in his guide.
We discovered the problem late on Friday, and had to endure the week end contemplating and speculating. Should we buy a pump and long hoses, to clear the tank? They usually priced around 250.- to 300.- Euros. Go to St Lucia to use the pump out facility in Rodney Bay?
It was a long two days. Lucky we have another toilet on board. Early in the Monday morning, we set out to Le Marin from St Anne. First we took water from the fuel dock, and anchored at our usual place. Al started with Le Ship, and Marianne (the nice sales attendant who can speak English) who suggested that we should contact Le Marin marina. After a couple of calls, we were told to speak with the marina dock master through VHF, channel 9 (they do not bother with listening to channel 16).
The dock master told us to stand by, they were to get back to us as soon as they were able. Listening to channel 9 for two hours showed that they were really busy, so we waited patiently. Around 11:30, Al tried again, and was told to come to the fuel dock at 12:00. We did, and told to get tied to the slip at the back of the dock and wait. There was hope, so we sat there, looking around at the activity.
It took them two hours to get organized to operate the pump-out, which had been installed new during the extention of the fuel dock this year. Now four yachts can get tied at the same time, a big improvement, because the dock is always busy (except when the oil/gas workers are on strike, a few time as year).
Anyway, Al helped the agent, to use it the fist time. The twenty meter long hose, and it connectors were brand new, so Al had no scuples to assist. After waiting so long, the actual pumping out took ten minutes, the vacuum system being quite powerful. We pumped in some water, and were confident that it would be possible to dismantle the stuck valve without having a black shower in the bilge.
Next step to find a plumber. Our advisor in Le Marin, Levent the kebab man, asked around, and found out that there was one nautical plumber, Jean Claud, but he decided to hang his hat lately, and refused to work.
We went to the Carenage boat yard, thinking that they should have some technicians handy for the boats stored there. We talked to some people, and learned that only Caraibe Marine would have access to the repair guys. Caraibe Marine it is.
The attendant there, whom we know from our constant visits, indicated that he knew one plumber, and he called him. It turned out to be Jean Claud, who still refused to work.
What to do? I suggested Le Ship, since they sell plumbing parts. Lo and behold, Marianne listened to our plight, and declared that she knew one guy, who might help, but he was always very busy. When I asked if his name was Jean Claud, she said no, just Jean. Oh good, another plumber exists in Martinique!
Marianne called him, and indicated that he might pass by the shop the next afternoon, and she would call us as soon as he showed up. She reiterated that he was extremely busy, and did not speak any English. We assured her that we could manage to understand him, being armed with our reference book " French for Sailors". It is a must have for everybody.
Another day to wait, but we had other errands to run, and our place at the anchorage was not too bad. What else do we have to do. By the way, did I mention that the lock for the second head door was broken? It locks from the inside, but does not keep the door closed. Al dismantled it, and saw that one of the springs was broken. We had to order it on line.
The next afternoon, Marianne declared that Jean was not coming that day, but was going to come to the boat 8:00 am the next morning, and asked about the location of the boat. Had she mentioned how busy he is? It seems that one has to beg for service.
We had little hope that he would show up, but started to be on the look out around 7:30 am. He did come almost on the dot, he was a small but very intense man, and very agile. He took a look, and declared that the job was not easy. Thank you, as if we did not know.
The first thing to do was to clog the discharge hole, which was under water. He jumped into his dinghy, and tried the multitude of wooden clogs that came with the boat. He found the one that almost fit, and used a piece of "chiffon" (cloth) to make it tight.
Then he tried to unscrew the valve. No can do. He said that he needed electricity to cut the outer ring, and hopped into his dinghy to bring a portable generator, which he borrowed from a friend.
Since the work area is too tight, by the time he finished, he looked like a veteran of combat. He had multilple cuts on his forehead and arms, his white t-shirt had blood stains and black marks. It was a good thing that Al had the foresight of placing a garbage bag under the connection to the valve. As soon as the valve was dismantled, the refuse in the pipe came wooshing down (some of it to the bilge, but not much). Al used the other head to get rid of it, which had half filled the bag.
Al told him to close his eyes, and covered his face with antiseptic spray. But he refused to apply bandage to his cuts. He was a very humble and nice man, and lived through a tragedy in his life. Ten years previsously, he was a father of two, living as a jeweler in Bordeaux, France. Then his son died, and he, not abe to continue the status quo, started a new life in Martinique. He also mentioned that he was generally working as an electrician (much cleaner work), but since there were no plumbers available, he was taking that on as well. Well I tell you, it is a much needed service, and we were grateful.
Poor Jean fought for 4 hours, and asked for 160.- Euros. With some parts that he had to buy in the meantime, Al gave him 200.-. I think he deserved much more, doing such a dirty job, so we did not grudge him for it. God bless him.
Jean gave us his telephone number for any problems, but did not want us to advertise for him. He did not even made any business cards, fearing about more calls. He also made it plain that he would never work for the charter companies (who would need his services regularly).
It took us almost two months to put two and two together. First day free of commitments, Al sat on the toilet and started gazing at the system of valves which connect the discharge. The main discharge valve, which allows the flow from the head as well as from the holding tank through the sea-cock, was closed and stuck; that is to say, the pipe connecting it to the tank was full of refuse.
Last year, when Al opened that valve after the summer season, he had indicated that it was only half opened, but he had been afraid to force it open, lest he would brake the through hull fitting. This year, he said that he had no problem opening it, it was even too easy, and he thought it odd. Apparently he had not opened the valve, he just broke the handle and jammed the valve on that first day. After that, unbenownst to us, every time we used the toilet, we were pumping the discharge into the tank, without ever emptying it. When the poor thing was full, the refuse was over-flowing out through the aspiration line, the bulk of it getting concentrated in the holding tank.
First thing to be done was to empty the tank. So we looke in the Ti' Ponton (the register of all cruser related businesses in Martinique for easy access to sailors). Nothing about sanitation, pump out even no mention of plumbing. The only mention was of plumbing parts sale at Le Ship ( a chandlery in Le Marin). Even Doyle does not mention a plumber. However, a pump out station in St Lucia is advertised in his guide.
We discovered the problem late on Friday, and had to endure the week end contemplating and speculating. Should we buy a pump and long hoses, to clear the tank? They usually priced around 250.- to 300.- Euros. Go to St Lucia to use the pump out facility in Rodney Bay?
It was a long two days. Lucky we have another toilet on board. Early in the Monday morning, we set out to Le Marin from St Anne. First we took water from the fuel dock, and anchored at our usual place. Al started with Le Ship, and Marianne (the nice sales attendant who can speak English) who suggested that we should contact Le Marin marina. After a couple of calls, we were told to speak with the marina dock master through VHF, channel 9 (they do not bother with listening to channel 16).
The dock master told us to stand by, they were to get back to us as soon as they were able. Listening to channel 9 for two hours showed that they were really busy, so we waited patiently. Around 11:30, Al tried again, and was told to come to the fuel dock at 12:00. We did, and told to get tied to the slip at the back of the dock and wait. There was hope, so we sat there, looking around at the activity.
It took them two hours to get organized to operate the pump-out, which had been installed new during the extention of the fuel dock this year. Now four yachts can get tied at the same time, a big improvement, because the dock is always busy (except when the oil/gas workers are on strike, a few time as year).
Anyway, Al helped the agent, to use it the fist time. The twenty meter long hose, and it connectors were brand new, so Al had no scuples to assist. After waiting so long, the actual pumping out took ten minutes, the vacuum system being quite powerful. We pumped in some water, and were confident that it would be possible to dismantle the stuck valve without having a black shower in the bilge.
Next step to find a plumber. Our advisor in Le Marin, Levent the kebab man, asked around, and found out that there was one nautical plumber, Jean Claud, but he decided to hang his hat lately, and refused to work.
We went to the Carenage boat yard, thinking that they should have some technicians handy for the boats stored there. We talked to some people, and learned that only Caraibe Marine would have access to the repair guys. Caraibe Marine it is.
The attendant there, whom we know from our constant visits, indicated that he knew one plumber, and he called him. It turned out to be Jean Claud, who still refused to work.
What to do? I suggested Le Ship, since they sell plumbing parts. Lo and behold, Marianne listened to our plight, and declared that she knew one guy, who might help, but he was always very busy. When I asked if his name was Jean Claud, she said no, just Jean. Oh good, another plumber exists in Martinique!
Marianne called him, and indicated that he might pass by the shop the next afternoon, and she would call us as soon as he showed up. She reiterated that he was extremely busy, and did not speak any English. We assured her that we could manage to understand him, being armed with our reference book " French for Sailors". It is a must have for everybody.
Another day to wait, but we had other errands to run, and our place at the anchorage was not too bad. What else do we have to do. By the way, did I mention that the lock for the second head door was broken? It locks from the inside, but does not keep the door closed. Al dismantled it, and saw that one of the springs was broken. We had to order it on line.
The next afternoon, Marianne declared that Jean was not coming that day, but was going to come to the boat 8:00 am the next morning, and asked about the location of the boat. Had she mentioned how busy he is? It seems that one has to beg for service.
We had little hope that he would show up, but started to be on the look out around 7:30 am. He did come almost on the dot, he was a small but very intense man, and very agile. He took a look, and declared that the job was not easy. Thank you, as if we did not know.
The first thing to do was to clog the discharge hole, which was under water. He jumped into his dinghy, and tried the multitude of wooden clogs that came with the boat. He found the one that almost fit, and used a piece of "chiffon" (cloth) to make it tight.
Then he tried to unscrew the valve. No can do. He said that he needed electricity to cut the outer ring, and hopped into his dinghy to bring a portable generator, which he borrowed from a friend.
Since the work area is too tight, by the time he finished, he looked like a veteran of combat. He had multilple cuts on his forehead and arms, his white t-shirt had blood stains and black marks. It was a good thing that Al had the foresight of placing a garbage bag under the connection to the valve. As soon as the valve was dismantled, the refuse in the pipe came wooshing down (some of it to the bilge, but not much). Al used the other head to get rid of it, which had half filled the bag.
Al told him to close his eyes, and covered his face with antiseptic spray. But he refused to apply bandage to his cuts. He was a very humble and nice man, and lived through a tragedy in his life. Ten years previsously, he was a father of two, living as a jeweler in Bordeaux, France. Then his son died, and he, not abe to continue the status quo, started a new life in Martinique. He also mentioned that he was generally working as an electrician (much cleaner work), but since there were no plumbers available, he was taking that on as well. Well I tell you, it is a much needed service, and we were grateful.
Poor Jean fought for 4 hours, and asked for 160.- Euros. With some parts that he had to buy in the meantime, Al gave him 200.-. I think he deserved much more, doing such a dirty job, so we did not grudge him for it. God bless him.
Jean gave us his telephone number for any problems, but did not want us to advertise for him. He did not even made any business cards, fearing about more calls. He also made it plain that he would never work for the charter companies (who would need his services regularly).
GOING BACK TO ST ANNE
Forecast was 15 - 17 knots east-southeast, with gusts up to 20. A friend of ours had cautioned us that at least 5 knots should be added to the forecast in making the sail plan. Well, we had our reef in the main sail, and we boldly started at 7:30 am from Rodney Bay, two days after our guests had left.
Al was adamant that we should motor-sail along the north shore of St Lucia, before heading north, in order to gain wind advantage, sailing north east to St Anne. So we braved the choppy waves, going east, parallel to the shallower shelf underneath; however the wind was south-easterly, so helped a lot to motoring. We made record time reaching Al's way point before turning north. After turning, of course our speed increased as well, even with the reefed geoa. While sitting next to Al at the helm, the waves looked too unnerving, so I went (with difficulty) to my usual spot at the cock-pit table, looking out the back of the boat, which steadies my stomach (doesn't help if I am scared).
We made and average of 7 miles/hour, while flying through three rain-storms, and reached the calm of Saline Point in les than three hours. First time in our lives, we saw the eastern portion of Saline during our approach, so Al got his wish of getting the wind advantage, but set us into a mine field of the fishing traps in the shallows of Saline beach. I was on the look-out, to slallom our way into the Buccaneer's Beach, our usual anchoring spot.
Oh, home at last, but not for long, another visitor is expected on 3rd of January, 2016.
Al was adamant that we should motor-sail along the north shore of St Lucia, before heading north, in order to gain wind advantage, sailing north east to St Anne. So we braved the choppy waves, going east, parallel to the shallower shelf underneath; however the wind was south-easterly, so helped a lot to motoring. We made record time reaching Al's way point before turning north. After turning, of course our speed increased as well, even with the reefed geoa. While sitting next to Al at the helm, the waves looked too unnerving, so I went (with difficulty) to my usual spot at the cock-pit table, looking out the back of the boat, which steadies my stomach (doesn't help if I am scared).
We made and average of 7 miles/hour, while flying through three rain-storms, and reached the calm of Saline Point in les than three hours. First time in our lives, we saw the eastern portion of Saline during our approach, so Al got his wish of getting the wind advantage, but set us into a mine field of the fishing traps in the shallows of Saline beach. I was on the look-out, to slallom our way into the Buccaneer's Beach, our usual anchoring spot.
Oh, home at last, but not for long, another visitor is expected on 3rd of January, 2016.
FIRST GUESTS ARRIVE
Our first guests, Laura, whom I know from the gym at MCMASTER UNIVERSITY, and her mother Nina was to arrive in Vieux Fort, St Lucia on December 3rd. In order to get ready for them, we left St Anne, Martinique on the 1st, and made the passage in four hours to Rodney Bay. It was quite pleasent, with moderate winds and small swells. We spent more time trying to anchor in the bay; it was a record of three times that we pulled the anchor in a row to find a sandy patch to keep us in place. The bottom of the northern part of the bay is very uneven and full of weeds and rocks. From 30 ft of water, all of a sudden you hit a shelf of 8 ft, and if you are not careful, the anchor gets pulled out with a jerk. Although there seems to be a lot of space, all the good spots were taken by a number of yachts, hense our struggle. Anyway, the fourth time we went quite close to the sandy beach, and dropped the anchor into a turquoise pool among the weeds, which seemed to hold. Afterwards, Al dove and saw that the anchor was barely holding, half covered in a thin layer of sand over the rock bottom. Oh well, it was not very windy, and we were to tie in the marina on the morning of the guests' arrival.
What was important at the moment was to find transportation to and from Vieux Fort, which is at the diagonally opposite end of the island, about an hour of driving. We had done it last year, by taking two busses, first to Castries, then to the airport, at the outskirts of Vieux Fort, on the way. We had engaged Elvis, the taxi driver, who was the neighbour of our Canadian/St Lucian friends Ken and Diane, to take us back to Rodney Bay with the guests.
Of course, the first person to contact was Elvis, to see if he was available. However, Al did not think that he was very keen on taking us on, so we thought we could test the numerous taxi drivers stationed at the gate of the marina. I figured that it is always a two way ride for the drivers, whether they start from the airport or the marina. Elvis lived in the vicinity of the airport, which was the reason for us to get there on our own. If we engaged a driver from the north, we could tag along for free!
We went to the taxi stand, where most of the drivers were playing cards and having a good time, but one driver, Linus was loitering around the parking lot. We approached him, and haggled down to the price of one way (US$80.-), our ride included.
The guests were arriving at 3:30 pm, and we started at 2:00 pm. Linus gave us a story about his sister coming on the same flight, and we had space for more people anyway etc. I had anticipated that he might try to squeeze more people in the car, which had a third row at the back, so we did not argue.
We arrived in good time, and welcomed Laura and Nina into the car. Linus was agitated and constantly on the phone. He first mentioned that his sister had one friend who could still fit, along with the luggage. After five minutes of waiting, Linus appeared with a long face, and declared that the sister became a party of four people, so they engaged a local taxi.
On the way back, of course Al had to deal with Linus' complaints about being deprived of his extra cash, which had to be compensated by us. Al was kind of firm, but ended up giving US$100.- instead, but I was not impressed. Compared to Elvis, who was a gentleman, Linus was too vulgar and greedy. Note to self, do not engage people off the street!
After arriving at home, the visit went on famously. As far as we were concerned, we had a very good time, constantly talked for five days, while doing some sailing around the island for short periods. Both mother and daughter were adventurists, but Nina was not a sailor, or even a good swimmer. So she had been a bit apprehensive about our sailing agenda. We put her at ease, and assured her that we had always been fair weather sailors, and we were to keep moving in the lee of the island anyway.
We spent two nights anchored in the bay after leaving the marina the first morning. Since we were close to the shore, she was able to swim around the boat without getting scared. Laura was an athlete and trapeze artist, so she was at home in the water.
The third morning, we put up the main sail, and headed to Anse Al Raye, a small fishing village, situated at the south of Marigot Bay. We reached the bay in a bit more than an hour, and approached the anchorage, which was close to the dock. However, Al found the bay too small, without much swinging room from the reefs at the sides; and turned around. Our rule is, if one of us is not comfortable with any place or situation, we change our plans. So we ended up in Anse Cochon, which is a favorite snorkelling spot, with mooring balls. It was a small bay, half of which was shallow with reefs to the north, south side deeper, where a few white mooring balls were installed. We took the last one, and stayed the night. It was a bit rolly, since Coshon is not as protected as La Raye, being a small indentation on the shoreline which is jutting out. These pear-shaped islands transport the swells along the shore.
The cliff on the south edge of the bay was taken over by Ti Kaye Resort, with numerous bungalows and two restaurants. We had lunch at the lower restaurant, which was serving Sunday brunch buffet (the spread was not what one expects in North America) for US$25.-, which did not include any drinks (not even water) and VAT and service charge. The food and ambiance were not bad, but was not worth the price, especially with our weak dollar. However, it was an experience.
This was our first time in Anse Cochon, and I liked it. However, our encounters with the locals are losing their charm. Especially the boat boys, who seemed to be younger this year, and they appear to have no scruples or sense of fairness. In the past, getting their help to tie to a mooring ball was 15.- EC. This year, the first time Al had to argue with an insolent boy who wanted 30.-. Now, Al declares that he is not giving a cent more than 20.- EC up front, and they say OK, but demand other absurd things when they finish; such as gas for the boat, or beer or smokes etc. It seems that sailors spoil them by complying, and they get greedier.
We were low on bread, and asked one of the boat-boys to bring us two loaves. He demanded 50.- EC, arguing that a loaf was 15.- at the market. No sense of propriety! I would rather make pancakes everyday, than give $25.- Canadian for bread.
The next morning we motored to the Pitons, which is a must see in St Lucia. The weather was overcast, and the mountain of the Petit Piton generated its unusual winds and currents, so it was a different experience for our guests. Laura ventured into the water with me, and we had a life-line in hand, so that the current would not carry us into the ocean. Let alone swimming, staying put was a workout, so we had a good time.
The visit was short, five days passed quickly, and it was time for them to return to Canada. Early in the morning of the 8th, we started the last leg of our trip, from the shouth west corner (Pitons) to Laborie on the south shore of St Lucia, halfway to Vieux Fort. Our guests saw the open ocean the first time, and experienced the waves coming at us, while we were struggling towards east. It took us 2 hours to cover 8 miles.
Another first; we had heard about Laborie from Ken and Diane, but had never ventured to get there. Other than being a safe place close to the airport, it is not a yacht destination. It is a small fishing village, but the people are nice and friendly, unspoilt by the outsiders.
The west side of the small bay is covered with high reefs, almost visible, but the east is sandy bottomed and shallow. The entrance is marked by two buoys, so navigating in is not hard, however staying there is debatable, since it is quite rolly in easterly swells, and untenable in south easterly. Best time for it is northerly swells, but this year they had not started yet, probably due to El Ninjo.
The only other yacht in the bay was a catamaran tied to a private mooring ball. So we anchored next to it, and went to shore to find a taxi, to take our guest to the airport later. There was a high dock, with a lower portion for the dinghies, but it was not well maintained, and seemed flimsy at places, and exposed to a lot of surge. Getting out of the dinghy was a bit tricky, but our guest had become pros by that time.
We walked on the main street, peeked into the church, which had a commanding view of the bay on an incline, and the door open to the east, taking in the constant breeze. Natural air conditioning.
On the main street, there was a line of minibuses awaiting customers for Vieux Fort. If we could not find a taxi, minibus could be an alternative; but a separate bus was to be had from there to the airport, which is at the other end of the town.
While walking around, I stopped at a clean looking eatery/bar called Mama Rosa's. It was not yet lunch time, so deserted, and a nice looking young islander was in attendance. I told her that I needed some information, and asked for a taxi driver she could recommend. She told me to follow her, and found Wilson, probably a relative of her. He promised to pick our guests from the dock at 2:00 pm, to reach the airport two hours before departure.
Wilson turned out to be a nice guy, and punctual, who charged 50.- EC for the drive to the airport (40.- EC is the minimum). Wilson is our future driver if we get to Laborie.
What was important at the moment was to find transportation to and from Vieux Fort, which is at the diagonally opposite end of the island, about an hour of driving. We had done it last year, by taking two busses, first to Castries, then to the airport, at the outskirts of Vieux Fort, on the way. We had engaged Elvis, the taxi driver, who was the neighbour of our Canadian/St Lucian friends Ken and Diane, to take us back to Rodney Bay with the guests.
Of course, the first person to contact was Elvis, to see if he was available. However, Al did not think that he was very keen on taking us on, so we thought we could test the numerous taxi drivers stationed at the gate of the marina. I figured that it is always a two way ride for the drivers, whether they start from the airport or the marina. Elvis lived in the vicinity of the airport, which was the reason for us to get there on our own. If we engaged a driver from the north, we could tag along for free!
We went to the taxi stand, where most of the drivers were playing cards and having a good time, but one driver, Linus was loitering around the parking lot. We approached him, and haggled down to the price of one way (US$80.-), our ride included.
The guests were arriving at 3:30 pm, and we started at 2:00 pm. Linus gave us a story about his sister coming on the same flight, and we had space for more people anyway etc. I had anticipated that he might try to squeeze more people in the car, which had a third row at the back, so we did not argue.
We arrived in good time, and welcomed Laura and Nina into the car. Linus was agitated and constantly on the phone. He first mentioned that his sister had one friend who could still fit, along with the luggage. After five minutes of waiting, Linus appeared with a long face, and declared that the sister became a party of four people, so they engaged a local taxi.
On the way back, of course Al had to deal with Linus' complaints about being deprived of his extra cash, which had to be compensated by us. Al was kind of firm, but ended up giving US$100.- instead, but I was not impressed. Compared to Elvis, who was a gentleman, Linus was too vulgar and greedy. Note to self, do not engage people off the street!
After arriving at home, the visit went on famously. As far as we were concerned, we had a very good time, constantly talked for five days, while doing some sailing around the island for short periods. Both mother and daughter were adventurists, but Nina was not a sailor, or even a good swimmer. So she had been a bit apprehensive about our sailing agenda. We put her at ease, and assured her that we had always been fair weather sailors, and we were to keep moving in the lee of the island anyway.
We spent two nights anchored in the bay after leaving the marina the first morning. Since we were close to the shore, she was able to swim around the boat without getting scared. Laura was an athlete and trapeze artist, so she was at home in the water.
The third morning, we put up the main sail, and headed to Anse Al Raye, a small fishing village, situated at the south of Marigot Bay. We reached the bay in a bit more than an hour, and approached the anchorage, which was close to the dock. However, Al found the bay too small, without much swinging room from the reefs at the sides; and turned around. Our rule is, if one of us is not comfortable with any place or situation, we change our plans. So we ended up in Anse Cochon, which is a favorite snorkelling spot, with mooring balls. It was a small bay, half of which was shallow with reefs to the north, south side deeper, where a few white mooring balls were installed. We took the last one, and stayed the night. It was a bit rolly, since Coshon is not as protected as La Raye, being a small indentation on the shoreline which is jutting out. These pear-shaped islands transport the swells along the shore.
The cliff on the south edge of the bay was taken over by Ti Kaye Resort, with numerous bungalows and two restaurants. We had lunch at the lower restaurant, which was serving Sunday brunch buffet (the spread was not what one expects in North America) for US$25.-, which did not include any drinks (not even water) and VAT and service charge. The food and ambiance were not bad, but was not worth the price, especially with our weak dollar. However, it was an experience.
This was our first time in Anse Cochon, and I liked it. However, our encounters with the locals are losing their charm. Especially the boat boys, who seemed to be younger this year, and they appear to have no scruples or sense of fairness. In the past, getting their help to tie to a mooring ball was 15.- EC. This year, the first time Al had to argue with an insolent boy who wanted 30.-. Now, Al declares that he is not giving a cent more than 20.- EC up front, and they say OK, but demand other absurd things when they finish; such as gas for the boat, or beer or smokes etc. It seems that sailors spoil them by complying, and they get greedier.
We were low on bread, and asked one of the boat-boys to bring us two loaves. He demanded 50.- EC, arguing that a loaf was 15.- at the market. No sense of propriety! I would rather make pancakes everyday, than give $25.- Canadian for bread.
The next morning we motored to the Pitons, which is a must see in St Lucia. The weather was overcast, and the mountain of the Petit Piton generated its unusual winds and currents, so it was a different experience for our guests. Laura ventured into the water with me, and we had a life-line in hand, so that the current would not carry us into the ocean. Let alone swimming, staying put was a workout, so we had a good time.
The visit was short, five days passed quickly, and it was time for them to return to Canada. Early in the morning of the 8th, we started the last leg of our trip, from the shouth west corner (Pitons) to Laborie on the south shore of St Lucia, halfway to Vieux Fort. Our guests saw the open ocean the first time, and experienced the waves coming at us, while we were struggling towards east. It took us 2 hours to cover 8 miles.
Another first; we had heard about Laborie from Ken and Diane, but had never ventured to get there. Other than being a safe place close to the airport, it is not a yacht destination. It is a small fishing village, but the people are nice and friendly, unspoilt by the outsiders.
The west side of the small bay is covered with high reefs, almost visible, but the east is sandy bottomed and shallow. The entrance is marked by two buoys, so navigating in is not hard, however staying there is debatable, since it is quite rolly in easterly swells, and untenable in south easterly. Best time for it is northerly swells, but this year they had not started yet, probably due to El Ninjo.
The only other yacht in the bay was a catamaran tied to a private mooring ball. So we anchored next to it, and went to shore to find a taxi, to take our guest to the airport later. There was a high dock, with a lower portion for the dinghies, but it was not well maintained, and seemed flimsy at places, and exposed to a lot of surge. Getting out of the dinghy was a bit tricky, but our guest had become pros by that time.
We walked on the main street, peeked into the church, which had a commanding view of the bay on an incline, and the door open to the east, taking in the constant breeze. Natural air conditioning.
On the main street, there was a line of minibuses awaiting customers for Vieux Fort. If we could not find a taxi, minibus could be an alternative; but a separate bus was to be had from there to the airport, which is at the other end of the town.
While walking around, I stopped at a clean looking eatery/bar called Mama Rosa's. It was not yet lunch time, so deserted, and a nice looking young islander was in attendance. I told her that I needed some information, and asked for a taxi driver she could recommend. She told me to follow her, and found Wilson, probably a relative of her. He promised to pick our guests from the dock at 2:00 pm, to reach the airport two hours before departure.
Wilson turned out to be a nice guy, and punctual, who charged 50.- EC for the drive to the airport (40.- EC is the minimum). Wilson is our future driver if we get to Laborie.
Friday, November 27, 2015
BACK TO MARTINIQUE
As soon as the attendant came in the morning (7:30 am), we paid for the water that we filled our tanks, and got underway. We hoisted the sails with a reef, and started our three day treck to Martinique.
It was the usual route with stops in Bequia, in the Grenadines; Jalousie at the Pitons, St Lucia, and our destination St Anne, Martinique. Starting every morning around 6:00 am, stopping around 3:00 pm, get beaten by waves and wind in between. Quite tiring when there is no respite, but this year we were in a hurry to come to St Anne, because we have to go back to St Lucia to meet my friends coming from Hamilton, Canada. We will spend the week together there, since it is not worth sailing back and forth in such a short time. We will go on land to explore together, and maybe sail to different anchorages around the island to have fun. Making a passage and back within the week is too stressful, especially if weather does not permit. We shall see.
Isn't this uncanny, that after four years of not even seeing a cocroach in the boat, we should encounter two kinds of pests inside, and one outside at the same time? (The outside crustaceans are actually helping, not a pest I think, but still.) This season is marred with problems it seems, I hope it will not continue. Being a Turk, I can only think of the evil eye! In Canada we talk about our life on board with everybody, it sounds like boasting most of the time. Well everybody, you can see that it is not always a picnic, so please do not wish us evil!
It was the usual route with stops in Bequia, in the Grenadines; Jalousie at the Pitons, St Lucia, and our destination St Anne, Martinique. Starting every morning around 6:00 am, stopping around 3:00 pm, get beaten by waves and wind in between. Quite tiring when there is no respite, but this year we were in a hurry to come to St Anne, because we have to go back to St Lucia to meet my friends coming from Hamilton, Canada. We will spend the week together there, since it is not worth sailing back and forth in such a short time. We will go on land to explore together, and maybe sail to different anchorages around the island to have fun. Making a passage and back within the week is too stressful, especially if weather does not permit. We shall see.
Isn't this uncanny, that after four years of not even seeing a cocroach in the boat, we should encounter two kinds of pests inside, and one outside at the same time? (The outside crustaceans are actually helping, not a pest I think, but still.) This season is marred with problems it seems, I hope it will not continue. Being a Turk, I can only think of the evil eye! In Canada we talk about our life on board with everybody, it sounds like boasting most of the time. Well everybody, you can see that it is not always a picnic, so please do not wish us evil!
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