After
four days in Portsmouth, we weighed anchor at 0630 and sailed out of
big Prince Rupert Bay, leaving the island of Dominica in our wake.
Conditions for the passage were mild, and we sailed under headsail,
mizzen, and single-reefed main. Winds were variable, and we
occasionally fired up the “iron genny”, our trusty old Yanmar
diesel workhorse, particularly for the last few miles, as the wind
had by then shifted to just west of north, right on our nose.
After
50 miles and 9.5 hours, we dropped anchor in Anse Deshaise, off a
charming and picturesque little French fishing village. The small
scenic bay, surrounded by mountains, was absolutely packed with
yachts, but Ken was able to get petite SD securely settled between
two German boats.
At
0730 the following morning, as we were enjoying our coffee in the
cockpit, a dinghy arrived alongside, with a young mademoiselle
offering fresh-baked croissants and baguettes for sale. Zut alors!!!
We purchased a croissant, a pain au chocolat, and a baguette, and
then we died and went to heaven.
Ken
rowed us to the tiny town dock at 1000, and we found ourselves in a
totally new cultural sphere. It was as if we has stepped into a
little fishing village in France, perhaps on the coast of Brittany.
Tiny streets were lined with colorful little shops and a few market
stalls, and a big church sat in the center of town with a tall bell
tower that chimed on the hour. A handful of restaurants sat along the
waterfront, making the view of the yachts and bay part of the
delightful ambience. Truly a French town, very few people spoke any
English, and all of the signs and menus were in French. Local
currency is the Euro, although some merchants accept US dollars.
We
found a wonderful restaurant called L'Amer, which opened onto a
breezy covered dining area on the waterfront, with tables covered in
brightly striped tablecloths. They offered free WiFi, so we ordered
coffees (cafe crème) and checked our e-mails while the servers began
setting up for lunch, putting wine glasses at each place setting.
(How French!)
We
managed to do a bit of shopping, using the few words of French we
knew, and adding a few hand gestures for clarification. But it was
nice to find that our hostess at L'Amer spoke very good English, with
a lovely musical accent. We decided to stay for lunch, and each had a
rum punch (okay, okay) to “alert the palate”, as they say. For
lunch, we shared plates of “tapas trio” and an assortment of
pate's with toast rounds, all excellent. By now the tables were full
of diners, and we hung around after our meal, people-watching and
sipping a glass of rose', as what the French term a “digestiv”.
Besides people-watching, we watched plates of dessert items
being shuttled to the nearby tables, so we finally gave into
temptation and ordered a crème brulee to share. The silky crème and
thin crunchy burnt-sugar crust were the perfect finales to a very
memorable meal. We both agreed that it's a good thing we're only
planning to stay here one day, or we'd be fat and broke!
At
0720 the following morning, the little “boulangerie bateau” came
alongside, and after our croissant and baguette purchase, we weighed
anchor, bound for the island of Antigua. Motor-sailing away from the
crowded anchorage, the engine alarm light came on. Ken suspected a
temperature problem, so we shut the engine down. No worries though,
as we were sailing in a nice easterly breeze, close reaching in 15-18
knots of wind. With full mains'l and headsail, SD was heeled over on
starboard tack, scooting along at an average of 6 knots, despite the
choppy 5-7 foot seas. We completed the 43-mile passage in just over
seven hours, and dropped the hook in Falmouth Harbour, just a few
steps from historic English Harbour.
English
Harbour is the most famous of Antigua's natural havens, and was once
under the command of Britain's most famous naval hero, Admiral Lord
Horatio Nelson. Nelson was first stationed here in 1784, under the
command of Sir Richard Hughes, who, our guidebook reports, had
recently blinded himself in one eye while chasing a cockroach with a
fork. Seems like a can of Raid would have been a more user-friendly
weapon, but I guess you make do with what you have.
Under
Nelson's command, Antigua became one of the major British naval
assets in the West Indies. But he managed to make himself unpopular
with the governor and the local merchants when he insisted on
enforcing the Navigation Act, which meant that the port was closed to
trade for all but British ships. Nonetheless, the dockyard today
bears the name “Nelson's Dockyard”, in memory of Britain's
favorite hero.
Ken
managed to sort out the engine alarm problem as a failed impeller,
several little rubber “wings” of which had disintegrated. So now,
in addition to exploring our amazing new surroundings, we have a
“to-do” list. Ken needs to check the engine's cooling system to
see if the bits of impeller are lodged somewhere in the system,
presenting a recurrence of the cooling problem. Out little old
outboard has decided it doesn't want to run for more than a brief
period without dying, and our headsail has opened a 6-inch seam on
its luff and needs that re-sewn, and we noted several other areas of
imminent thread failure.
But
there is plenty to look at here, both ashore and on the water. These
harbours are home to many, many sailing vessels – cruisers, racers,
and multi-million dollar sailing yachts and motor yachts. Some of the
mammoth sailboats have masts so tall that they are required to have
red lights atop their masts at night so that airplanes won't run into
them! Jaw-dropping stuff, for sure.
So
we've lots to see and do, and plan to spend at least a week here
while we're getting our work done. Besides, there are 6-9 foot swells
out there right now, and the yacht club's second story open-air
restaurant has nice views of the harbour, a good table for us to play
dominoes, and they also serve a very respectable rum punch. So we'll
work a bit, tour a bit, relax a bit, and catch up with you later.
To
see where we are, click on the SHIPTRAK gadget.
Cheers
and beers!
KandK
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