7/2/2020
Martinique was a relatively quick stop for us as we made our way north from St. Lucia. It would be our last stop in the Windward Island chain before continuing our Caribbean island hop northwards to the group known as the Leeward Islands, encompassing everything from Dominica up through Anguilla.
We needed to be in Martinique specifically by the 31st of January, AKA Brexit Day (FINALLY!). To make a somewhat confusing and very boring story short, Florence currently has tax-paid status in the EU. Given there are still a lot of question marks around what the tax status for UK-flagged vessels in the EU will be post Brexit, we took advice that it would be prudent to ensure that Florence was physically in the EU on Brexit Day to give her the best chance of being grandfathered into EU tax paid status once Britain has officially left the customs union. Are you asleep yet? Thought so. Anyways, Martinique is part of France and therefore in the EU, so we made the roughly 5-hour sail from Marigot Bay in St. Lucia to the town of St. Anne on the tip of Martinique to get the official stamp proving that Flo was in the EU when the UK left the union. OK, dull tax story over. You can wake up if you so wish (though I can’t promise it gets any better).
Martinique was a bit of a mixed bag for us. We sailed to 4 different anchorages over the course of 4 days. Some were fairly charming, others less so. I think our biggest frustration with the island was that it seemed to combine some of the more annoying aspects of both French and Caribbean cultures. It had all the aggressive bureaucracy of France but without the efficiency, with places often not open when they were supposed to be and locals having a tendency to be a bit unhelpful. Thank goodness I speak French, or we wouldn’t have gotten anything done. The most egregious example happened when we went to provision at a supermarket. When we attempted to grab a trolley, we were quickly accosted by a member of staff who insisted that if we wanted to use a trolley, we would have to relinquish our passports to him until we returned said trolley. We thought he must have been joking… He wasn’t. Suffice it to say, we didn’t use the trolley.
We did manage to get a flavour for the island: we saw a lot of sea turtles and went on a couple of nice hikes. All in, Martinique was a pleasant stop, but not necessarily a highlight. We did manage to find a sports shop that stocked paddle boards, so we have finally added that amazing piece of kit to Flo’s arsenal. Long overdue. I am so looking forward to sunset paddles around beautiful anchorages over the coming months.
We checked out of the EU early in the morning and continued our journey north towards the wild island of Dominica. Stephen and I have both been really excited to explore this small island-nation. It seems to be a favourite among cruisers, with many saying this is one of their favourite stops in the Caribbean. It was about a 40 nautical mile sail from the north of Martinique to what is really the only proper harbour in Dominica on the north side of the island. The island itself is formed of 9 volcanoes and is as you would imagine very steep, making anchorages hard to come by as the island largely plunges deep into the sea. Winds were strong, which made for an exhilarating sail, and the scenery on approach to the island was just stunning. Dominica's dramatic volcanic peaks were exactly what you’d expect a relatively untouched part of the Caribbean to look like.
The island is largely undeveloped, with over 90% dominated by lush, wild rainforests. There is little tourism on the island other than yachting traffic, with no real hotels yet other than a new speculative Kempinski property, although we hear a few are being built. We’d heard Dominica is not necessarily the best place for a resort beach holiday, but that it is hands down the best island for long hikes through the rugged and largely untouched beauty of the island’s interior. Stephen and I were pumped to get there and see what it was all about.
When we reached Portsmouth Harbour on the north side of the island, , we were pleased to discover a wide and inviting bay. Most of it was quite deep and it was relatively crowded, so we had to weave our way among boats and mooring balls for a while before finding a spot that looked big and deep enough to drop the hook.
Before we’d even started dropping, we had 3 different boat boys circling us on their tenders trying to sell us different goods and services, etc. While that’s appreciated and we like engaging with and doing business with locals, I’d prefer if they waited until we were anchored first, as it can be very distracting to have them whizzing around your boat hawking their wares while you are trying to get the anchor dug, which is an involved process and an important one to get right.
Once anchored though, we spoke to a boat boy named Alexis who offered to dinghy us to Customs the following day to check in and perhaps take us on a tour of some of the island’s waterfalls the following day. Great. By this time, the sun was about to set, so we figured we’d hunker down for a night aboard. We spent the evening in the cockpit listening to music while watching the sun set over the horizon. I attempted my first paddle board excursion, which didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. First of all, I didn’t read up or watch any YouTube clips on the actual technique, so it's safe to say I had no idea what I was doing. Also our paddle was apparently far too short and the anchorage far from calm, with a decent amount of chop and current. Poor Stephen was stood on deck watching me basically just drift away into the distance while I paddled away furiously likely looking like a right tit. Amateur hour for sure. I did manage to get back to the boat just before dark.
We were up early the next day. After Alexis took us to check in at Customs, we declined his offer to take us on a tour of Victoria Falls and the boiling crater lake on the south of the island, as it would apparently involve over an hour drive there and back, and there seemed to be plenty to explore on the north side. We’d be keen to do the boiling lake with him the following day. Alexis drove us to the starting point of part of a trail hike I’d read about that runs through the rainforest up to the very northern tip of the island. It’s called the Waitukubuli Trail and was meant to be wild and luscious. Alexis reckoned the hike would take about 2 hours, though he caveated he hadn’t been on the trail since Hurricane Maria wreaked her devastation on the island 2 years prior so couldn’t attest to its state. We probably should have been more nervous about that proviso, but keen to get going, we hurtled ahead, in flip flops no less, which Alexis rightfully thought was asinine. “Good luck, man,” he said, and with those parting words, he left us in the jungle.
The hike was amazing .Alexis was not wrong in suspecting the trail had likely suffered since Maria. It was for the most part very overgrown, with many large felled trees across it that required some climbing. It was muddy, hot, slippery, wild, steep, and utterly fabulous. Proper jungle bushwhacking shit for sure, and exactly that kind of adventure Stephen and I had hoped for in Dominica. There were very few signs along the trail and more than a few junctures at which Stephen and I weren’t entirely sure which way was which, and by the time we’d been hiking for well over 2 hours, we still didn’t seem to be nearing the end. As time crept on, I got increasingly nervous, assuming we must have taken a wrong turn at this waterfall or that felled tree or something, but Stephen insisted we were still on the right course and should keep plowing forward. The trail itself was for the most part quite steep – definitely not for the faint of heart! I’m not particularly afraid of heights, but on more than a couple occasions I found myself scared to look down as we wound our way around cliff edges on narrow and slippery terrain. That would be a long way down should we misstep! We’d been going about 3 1/2 hours when the path finally seemed to widen and flatten out. This had to be a good sign. The path eventually dumped us out into a clearing where we saw a sign marking the end of the trail. Phew! I didn’t fancy being the next unwitting contestants in a reality TV episode of Naked and Afraid – Dominica Edition. We found a local bus to hop a ride back to Portsmouth and decided to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the waterfront.
While a lovely and rugged island, Dominica is also a poor island, with very little investment and not much in the way of tourism. It was also severely damaged by Hurricane Maria back in 2017, and the wreckage from that disaster is still readily apparent. Many buildings still don't have windows, and we saw more than one rusted out car tangled in a treetop where it had been blown by the storm. We found the locals on the island to be incredibly friendly and helpful, and despite the sometimes rundown-looking surroundings, we felt safe everywhere we went. We ended the day exhausted from having hiked over 20 kilometres, but were excited to explore either Victoria Falls or the famous crater lake the following day.
Mother Nature however had other plans. Frequent showers the day before turned into heavy rainfall that lasted through the night. It’s a strange sensation to be in bed below deck when the boat is getting absolutely pelted with water. It feels a bit like being in a car wash, and Stephen and I each end up getting up several times throughout the course of the night to double and triple check that all windows and hatches were sealed tight. Like the idiot that I am, I seem to have not properly closed the hatch by my side of the bed, and I awoke at one point to find my Mac Book sitting below the window in a small puddle of water. I’d managed to do it again! That makes two Mac Books ruined by water on this trip so far. And surprise surprise, I didn’t learn my lesson from Mallorca and hadn’t backed up my work, so I again lost all my blog writing, photos, and videos I hadn’t yet posted (another excuse for why the blog is once again backed up). Sigh…. 1,000 Idiot Points awarded to Abby. Moving on.
The following morning, it was still absolutely bucketing with rain. Dominica it turns out gets roughly 350 inches of rain per year, making it one of the rainiest spots on the planet. We spent the morning hoping it would ease up, but if anything it only got heavier. It looked as if we’d have to resign ourselves to a rain day on the boat. As you might imagine, there aren’t a million things to do when confined in a 55 foot space below deck for a prolonged period of time. You need to get a bit creative. We played some card games (always interesting when you pit two overly competitive people against each other in a confined space), did our best to make a gourmet lunch out of the dregs we could find in our refrigerator, watched a couple episodes of the Wire (best show ever), and then attempted to go for a swim in the rain, which turned out to be a questionable idea, as the current was super strong and we had to battle to get back aboard. The storm finally let up just in time for sunset when our cabin fever was palpable, so we dove into the dingy and went ashore for an evening walk. We ended up walking a good couple miles down the bay, ending up at a little beach bar frequented by sailors where we had a really interesting chat with a couple of sailors from Greece and Belgium who were getting prepared to cross the Pacific together. Chats with fellow sailors are always entertaining. Although you don’t know each other, your shared lifestyle immediately gives you so may points of commonality, and I find sailors tend to have the best stories. We’ve met so many interesting and wonderful people along this trip. They really do inspire you to think outside the box and consider just how big and wonderful this world is and how varied your options can be if you are willing to consider the path less trodden. Life is what you make it. And as far as I know, you only get one, so I intend to live it!
This morning we are up early and heading north again, this time to Ile de Saints – a small archipelago just south of Guadeloupe that we’d never heard of until a couple weeks ago but has since come highly recommended by multiple cruisers. It should be a short and fast sail, as we have 20+ knots of wind on our beam. As I watch the peaks of Dominica grow smaller behind us, I do wish we could have spent some more time exploring the natural beauty of her interior. Our short stint here has been a highlight. Dominica is a definitely must for nature lovers! Though I would caution you to bring your wet weather gear, you will need it…
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