The greater the difficulty the greater the glory

(Cicero, 106 – 43 BC)

We left St. Vincent quite early, around 6ish. The town was still asleep, only a few roosters were attempting to rouse people. We tied down George (our dinghy) and headed for the open sea and the 53 miles to St. Lucia, our resting place for the night.

Bye bye St.Vincent

God effect

B-e-a-utiful

 Rodney Bay, the main bay for boats in St. Lucia, is on the northwestern side of the island, making for a protected area for weary yachts people to take a well-deserved break. It was 30 miles across the channel between the two islands, and 20 up the St. Lucia coast. We set out, wishing great, green St. Vincent a warm farewell. Whilst waiting for Dad’s dental crown to be mailed from France, we moved north, up the coast of St. Vincent, and stopped in a small anchorage called Petit Byahaut.

The Headland of Petit Byahaut

Beautiful beach, with the remains of a tent camp.

Just stunning

To our back

 It was a tiny heaven, ensconced by two large headlands and surrounded by crystal clear waters; we tied a rope from our stern to a tree on shore and relaxed in paradise.

Little brother fixing the stern line for us to a tree

Swim!

I just love my life.

Tadaa

 Jabez and I swam ashore to a black sand beach and sat on the stove-like sand, trying not to roast ourselves on the fiery beach. After a while we decided to go check out a cave, a bay and a half away, known as… wait for it… The Bat Cave! So we took our dinghy, and our GoPro camera, and set off. Once at this so called Bat cave, we tied ol’ Georgie to a handy mooring and hopped into the water. Above the entrance were very interesting geological formations in the rock, like a kind of wavy pattern.

Into the depths we plunge

 Large underwater boulders guarded the entry to the passage way and it grew steadily darker as we progressed, swimming, deeper into the cave. Finally we were in the back of the cave and there was a squeaking and chirping noise above our heads that wasn’t quite deafening, but pretty darn close. At one point, I took my mask off to look up and got this wave of bat fertilizer. The only time I smelled something this bad was when I was at my grandparents in South Africa and their neighbors spread guano on their flowerbeds. We couldn’t open the windows for a week! Anyway, we saw the bats flying back and forth on the ceiling and then a pinprick of light to the left. We swam in that direction, trying not to get smashed against the narrow walls of the tunnel. After 3 meters, the bottom dropped down and all I could see was just an opening, of clear, deep blue water and the walls of the underwater tunnel going downward. We came out of the cave and into the ocean, then doubled back to the dinghy again. I think it was more fun swimming there than back. If you stop in St. Vincent, do yourself a favor, swim through the bat cave, and enjoy it, but don’t disturb the bats!

Back to our passage from St. Vincent to Martinique….

The funny thing is just about every short passage we do, once we set out, I get really tired. Dad says it’s a side effect of being seasick, but I don’t get seasick anymore. HA!! Take that, person who decided people should get seasick. (I don’t know who you are, but I will look for you, I will find you and I will slap you in the face!) Well, I was kind of in limbo between sleep and not sleep and at one point heard Dad calling Mom shouting, “whale, whale!” But I really couldn’t be bothered to haul myself out of the lovely soft bed. Too bad for me, because it wasn’t a whale, it was a massive turtle as big as our cockpit. For those of you who don’t know, that is freaky big. Later, I researched the largest species of turtle and found out it is the Leatherback turtle, genus Dermochelys Coriacea, named that because it doesn’t have a bony shell, instead it is covered by skin and oily flesh, that has hardened to form a kind of shell-ish. Eww. Oh well. After an hour or so I kicked my butt out of bed (well, who else was going to do it?) and went outside.

On our way, St. Lucia in the distance.

The Grand Pitons

Piton Anse

 I took the steering wheel and sailed the boat until we were within 2 miles of the Grand Pitons, sailing the channel between St. Vincent and St. Lucia. Majestic peaks soaring into the clouds, green rainforests covering much of the island, I can understand why it is one of the most visited islands for tourists, but it always seemed a bit bland to me. I don’t know why, just a feeling. We pulled into Rodney Bay and had the hook down, holding fast and the grill going before 5 o clock. After a dinner of chicken on the grill and couscous we hit the sack. Once again we rose early after a decent night’s sleep and started up the last 20 miles to Martinique. Jabez started hand steering for the first 5 miles or so,

Yeah, thats right pretty boy, smile.

Arr Captain!

 while I went downstairs and took an half an hour nap. After that refreshing reposo I took the wheel and set a record on the speed for that trip, 7.8 knots and nobody topped it.

Although there are times when I dont like to be wakened 

Really beating into it.

Nicely heeled over

Its not all smooth sailing in light winds!

 We were sailing about 60 degrees off the wind, and gaining nice headway. At about 13 miles to go, everyone was outside in the cockpit, and I was steering, when Dad said, “Look, look!” I turned to look off the bow, and saw this massive splash 200 meters off. I was a bit disappointed, but then it breached again, clear out of the water! A pilot whale, we determined, though not a huge one, but still, not something you see every day, and not something you forget easily.

We arrived in St. Anne, Martinique, after 3 or 4 hours of good sailing, and dropped the anchor. Jabez and I donned our swim gear and snorkels, and Dad handed us some cable ties to mark the chain. You know, it’s really kinda hard to pull yourself foot by foot, 4 meters down in the water having to come up every 40 seconds or so to breathe. Later in the day Mom and Dad took Bear Necessities, our optimist sailing dinghy, to shore to clear us into France. They returned loaded down with the bountiful yumminess that was two fresh baguettes, creamy brie and goat cheese, cold salamis, and a pot of pate de vollaile. This is Anneleize signing off for now.

Viva la vida loca