by chris ayres | Mar 2015 | UK to New Zealand
Pinney’s beach
Nevis Peak
Charlestown
a bar in Charlestown
I would have staid longer in Monserrat but the anchorage was so uncomfortable, very rolly and the noise of the crashing surf disconcerting, I had spent two virtually sleepless nights so it was time to go. A shame as I liked the island, mountainous and very forested with lots of wildlife, the pace of life seemed slower too a lovely place. Someday I may go back there and find better anchoring conditions. The course to Nevis passed close by Redonna an uninhabited rocky island and reckon I must be getting a bit soft or something, I couldn’t see how they would have landed let along got up the cliffs to mine the phosphate and build a post office! its so steep and looks so loose. I had a good passage and picked up a mooring in the afternoon at Pinney’s beach, just past Charlestown the capital. Lovely peaceful conditions and a good restful sleep was had. Formalities completed the next morning and after a look around Charlestown, its a small little place I went to lookup a fellow member of the Vancouver Org, Mark who lives on the Island, has a Vancouver 32 “Pearl of Nevis” and owns a bar/restaurant on Pinney’s beach. He made me very welcome I must say. Nevis is a nice place to stay, the beach is superb the swimming idyllic and the forest quite wild. I went for a walk hoping I might get to the top of Nevis Peak but the trail just petered out high up in the forest and it would have been all to easy to get lost if I pressed on. Mind you I did see monkeys which was good. Also at Pinney’s Beach is the renowned Sunshine’s bar and grill. All painted up in Jamaican/Reggae colours, music pumping out and serving the famous Killerbee punch – care needed!
by chris ayres | Apr 2015 | UK to New Zealand
I caught a bus up to Qualie beach which is at North end of the island, where I hired a bike and then rode right around the island. It is lovely with some bits like Herbert’s beach just fantastically beautiful – doesn’t sound with that name like it should be do it? But it is completely undeveloped, open to, but protected from the Atlantic by a reef. Very few houses at all in this part of the island. The book said the roads are relatively flat for cycling, but the writer of the book has obviously never cycled around the island. There was a big hill, Zion on the road up to Gingerland that was hard work in the hot sun but of course a lovely run down the other side back to Charlestown. Here I dropped in at the agriculture show – lots of stalls so had a good meal of rice and beans veg and baked chicken and lovely refreshing home made lemonade. Got a puncture going to Fort Charles, which was a bit of a drag but the bike had a spare tube and pump. Owner of bike hire shop, Winston was lovely happy guy and he gave me a lift back to Pinney’s beach. A swim soon washed off the sweat from the ride, probably eased the legs too before back to the boat.
After a few more days of relaxing, swimming, it was time to move on again. A short sail took me to Basseterre on St Kitts. Anchored off the town, it was very rolly and uncomfortable but went ashore for a quick look around, it will repay a further visit. I left there that same afternoon and went across to the southern peninsular of the island, about 5 miles. To anchor in White House bay,very little there, very peaceful.
The whole southern end of the Island has been bought by a rich American developer who wants to, has already started to dredge the salt pond for super yacht berths, build a golf course, expensive restaurants lots of condos all that sort of thing in what was a virtually deserted and unspoilt part of the island. Doubtless it will be all done in good taste but another bit of wilderness gone for good.
A few days with plenty of swimming and short walks ashore. I did visit Basseterre again but with bad timing as it was Good Friday and the place was virtually shut down, it is all too easy to loose track of time.
At White House Bay I meet another Brit on a lovely 37 ft double ender, we dined on each other boats and talked of this and that. It was nice.
Once more though perhaps it is time to move on, so many islands still to see and towards the end of the month I will have turn south to get out of the hurricane zone before June.
Herberts beach Nevis
Basseterre St Kitts
White House Bay, St Kitts
by chris ayres | Apr 2015 | UK to New Zealand
The morning I left St Kitts, Terry came aboard, gave me a St Kitts cap and a book, and we motored, it being calm, the 2 miles to Frigate Bay where we anchored. Terry thought I should experience a breakfast at Shiggy Shack, so we went ashore and had the full monty, that is full English breakfast. Seemed a bit incongruous eating a full breakfast on a Caribbean beach, was my first cooked breakfast for maybe 8 months and I haven’t missed them but this was nice for a change and proper set me up for the day. Back at the boat I had a gentle breeze so made sail northwards along the St Kitts coastline. I’ll go back some day to see more of this lovely island. Departing from the northern tip we had calm for a while but then the breeze was back and the shortish passage to Statia was made. The proper name for the island is St Eustatius but the locals call it Statia. Arriving of Oranjestad, the main town and port I anchored off the beach. It seemed that Easter holidays were in full swing as lined along the beach under the cliffs were sound systems, bands, barbecues, kids on the beach. They certainly like their partying do the Statians. Ashore next day all seemed to be shut up, the Port Office, the National Park Office so I couldn’t complete formalities. I decided to walk up the volcano, called the Quill which dominates the town, you are supposed to buy a hiking permit but as the offices were shut I decided to go anyway. The way up from the old town, situated on a narrow strip between the beach and the cliffs, mostly destroyed since its heyday in the 18th century, was up the old paved slave road which led from the beach up to the old slave market on top of the cliffs. One wonders what would lead western society to treat Africans in this way, and we called ourselves civilised.!!!! Passing through the outskirts of the town there was a huge tortoise in someones front garden, must have been a foot and a half long. Higher the track led through woodland, here were purple clawed hermit crabs, they used large snail shells for homes. We are used to thinking of crabs as seaside creatures not 800 ft up a mountain. Arriving at the crater rim you could look down into the crater itself which is full of forest, silk cotton trees and strangler f The morning I left St Kitts Terry came aboard, gave me a St Kitts cap and a book, and we motored, it being calm, the 2 miles to Frigate Bay where we anchored. Terry thought I should experience a breakfast at Shiggy Shack, so we went ashore and had the full monty, that is full English breakfast. Seemed a bit incongruous eating a full breakfast on a Caribbean beach, was my first cooked breakfast for maybe 8 months and I haven’t missed them but this was nice for a change and proper set me up for the day. Back at the boat I had a gentle breeze so made sail northwards along the St Kitts coastline. I’ll go back some day to see more of this lovely island. Departing from the northern tip we had calm for a while but then the breeze was back and the shortish passage to Statia was made. The proper name for the island is St Eustatius but the locals call it Statia. Arriving of Oranjestad, the main town and port I anchored off the beach. It seemed that Easter holidays were in full swing as lined along the beach under the cliffs were sound systems, bands, barbecues, kids on the beach. They certainly like their partying do the Statians. Ashore next day all seemed to be shut up, the Port Office, the National Park Office so I couldn’t complete formalities. I decided to walk up the volcano, called the Quill which dominates the town, you are supposed to buy a hiking permit but as the offices were shut I decided to go anyway. The way up from the old town, situated on a narrow strip between the beach and the cliffs, mostly destroyed since its heyday in the 18th century, was up the old paved slave road which led from the beach up to the old slave market on top of the cliffs. One wonders what would lead western society to treat Africans in this way, and we called ourselves civilised.!!!! Passing through the outskirts of the town there was a huge tortoise in someones front garden, must have been a foot and a half long. Higher the track led through woodland, here were purple clawed hermit crabs, they used large snail shells for homes. We are used to thinking of crabs as seaside creatures not 800 ft up a mountain. Arriving at the crater rim you could look down into the crater itself which is full of forest, silk cotton trees and strangler figs. Here too was a feral rooster and feral chickens, one rooster followed me to the rim, quite a bold beast would eat out of your hand. I went some down into the crater but the thought of the climb back out deterred me from going to far, beside I had left my full water bottle on the boat and was feeling a little parched.There were lots of little geckos too but I did not spot one of the Statia iguanas. Back at the beach the party was just warming up again and in the evening things were really hopping. The sound systems all blaring out vying with the bands and the motor bike boys revving their 1000cc bikes up to the full. Mind you there are not that many roads for a burn up on an island that is 4 miles long and 2 mile wide. Crazy crazy Statia, a lovely gem of an island. igs. Here too was a feral rooster and feral chickens, one rooster followed me to the rim, quite a bold beast would eat out of your hand. I went some down into the crater but the thought of the climb back out deterred me from going to far, beside I had left my full water bottle on the boat and was feeling a little parched.There were lots of little geckos too but I did not spot one of the Statia iguanas. Back at the beach the party was just warming up again and in the evening things were really hopping. The sound systems all blaring out vying with the bands and the motor bike boys revving their 1000cc bikes up to the full. Mind you there are not that many roads for a burn up on an island that is 4 miles long and 2 mile wide. Crazy crazy Statia, a lovely gem of an island.
Anchorage at Statia
Purple clawed Hermit crab
Quill Crater
Rooster
Gecko
Beach Party
by chris ayres | Apr 2015 | UK to New Zealand
The passage to St Barts was not enjoyable. I left the anchorage at Statia early and though I would go around the south of the island as it would give me a better slant on the wind to cross However tacking around the south of the island proved just too hard, winds too strong and waves big so after hour and half I had made little progress.Turned around and was back level with the anchorage in 15 mins! so up to the north tip of the island then across. A course almost hard on the wind should have seen me across, not like the passage notes in the pilot that suggest it should be an easy reach. What with leeway, the current and the waves all pushing me northwards it was soon obvious that I would have to go hard on the wind. The waves seemed unusually large considering the wind strength, just about 18 – 20 knots, sometimes a bit lower and arrangements down below got re-arranged., with stuff all over the cabin floor. As it was I entered up motoring the last miles as I had been headed by the wind and it turned into a race against the sunset, punching into short steep waves with spray everywhere. It was the sort of passage that makes you wonder why you sail at all! Oh and the sunset won, just so I anchored in the dark. Not too bad though channel buoy lights and other boats at anchor.
Here I am back on the mainstream cruising circuit and there are hundreds of boats. Unlike Monseratt, Nevis, St Kitts and Statia where there are relatively few yachts about.
I had had to anchor some way out and so it was a long dinghy ride into Gustavia to complete entrance formalities. It feels more like the Med here than the Caribbean, there seemed a surprising lack of black faces, the population seemed European, its very French, very smart very chic and expensive too. 5 Euros for a coffee. After a couple of day I moved just a few miles up the coast to Anse du Colombier. This was much nicer, a very lovely bay with turtles swimming about and a gorgeous beach. I walked along a nice coastal path to Anse de Flamades, saw lizards and iguanas. Back at the boat I spent some time diving under the boat scrubbing the bottom watched by some attractive fish.
Anse du Colombier
Anse du Colombier
Path to Anse des Flamandes
by chris ayres | Apr 2015 | UK to New Zealand
An easy downwind sail passing between the island of Ile Fourche and the rocks of the Groupers took me me to Sint Maarten. In coastal waters here past Great Bay the water was a beautiful turquoise but I am still finding it a little unnerving after all these months in the Caribbean seeing the bottom so clearly even at 20 meters depth. Anchoring in Simpson Bay I dinghied in to complete formalities. The guy behind me in the queue was a bit pushy and got a good telling off from the lady official, good one lady.
Next day I moved in through the opening bridge to the Lagoon, I fancied a quieter anchorage away from the constant ocean swell where I could get some jobs done more easilyand perhaps the best chandelries in the whole Caribbean are here. One job was to fit a stereo, iPods are all very well but the bit of music I wanted to listen to never seemed to be on the pod. The stereo I fitted could play the radio, music from iPod and also music from a usb device so I could have access to my entire collection – great.
The other job was to complete the hull cleaning, with being in the water a full year now there was a certain fuzziness to the bottom. I rigged a rope under the boat fastened off side to side by the stanchions and with its aid could dive under the boat and bracing my feet against the keel , scrape off the bottom. It cleaned off easily.only trouble was there is only so much you can scrape with one lung full of air so it took some time and was quite tiring. From time to time the rope had to be repositioned but eventually after several session it was done.
I didn’t much care for the Dutch side of the island at Simpsom bay somehow, all ribbon development along the busy roads, so I went around to the French side and anchored off Marigot. Seemed a nice little town this, I could have stayed longer but I had it in my head that it was time to turn around and head south. The forecast for the next week was good lighter winds and easterly looked ideal.
The new stereo
by chris ayres | Apr 2015 | UK to New Zealand
I knew it would be an uphill struggle to get back against the wind to St Barts, didn’t quite figure that it would take all day, hard on the wind , lots of tacking and a wind and sea state that belied the forecast. However I got back to Anse du Colombier before sunset and picked up a mooring in time for a swim, good after a head day.
First light the next day I slipped the mooring bound for St Kitts, I knew it would be another long day Close hauled I could hold the desired course and rounded the north end of the island in good time but then a long succession of beats down the coast took ages until a race against the sun setting took me to White House Bay to anchor.
Monseratt was the next destination, first I had to sail past Nevis then it was hard on the wind, 20 25 knots of it – what was this about light winds in the forecast and there was some south in the wind too so with that and punching into the waves i couldn’t hold the desired course. I had thought of anchoring off Little Bay but was pushed too far south and in late afternoon a quick mental calculation of miles to go with tacking and time before sunset it was apparent that I wouldn’t make it. The course I was on would clear the south of the island so be it, a night passage to Guadeloupe it would be. I did give me a fairly close look at the ruins of Plymouth destroyed by the volcanic eruption 20 years ago and yes the volcano was still smoking after all these years.
Ruins of Plymouth Monseratt
It was a long night, catnapping was difficult due to the number of ships about , none came close but I like to keep tabs on them. I had shortened sail before dark – it was blowing 25 knots mind, preferring comfort to speed but probably overdid it and when the winds eased later perhaps should have set more sail. It was a slow passage and dawn found me still mile away from Guadeloupe. Things were not helped by rain squalls which blotted out all visibility. I had though to make for and anchor at Deshaies but had been pushed to far south so settled for making for Pigeon Islands and anchored in the bay there early afternoon. Time for a nap. Waking I wasn’t quite happy with the anchorage here, the wind was shifty, swinging room was limited by other boats and holding not too great so I up anchor and moved 5 miles down the coast to Anse du Barque – much better. and had a very peaceful night here.
Raising anchor the next morning was hard as in swinging the chain seemed to have wrapped itself around a rock but eventually I got it up and was of. But what was this A southerly wind of 20 knots and I wanted to go south down the coast. I am never ever going to believe in weather forecasts ever again. It has been wrong every day. Plan A had been to make it to Dominica, scrapped that go the Les Saintes instead, this lies further East so more tacking but not so far to go and from there should give a better slant on the wind for Dominica. Plenty of vacant moorings in Bourge les Saintes.
I remained here the next day, it was cloudy with rain but I fancied a stretch of legs ashore. I walked up to Fort Napoleon , very well preserved and lovely views and I also saw Iguanas – fantastic animals, wouldn’t mind a couple in my garden.
Bourge les Saintes from Fort Napoleon
Net mending Les Saintes
Beach picture
Iguana
Iguana
Onwards then to Dominica, but so much for a favourable slant of the wind which had gone to the SE. Then halfway across the wind died. I slopped about in the residual swell for what seemed like a decent interval then resorted to the motor. Anchoring in Prince Rupert Bay I noticed that Harvey and Rita’s boat was here, I’d seen them last in Antugua, and later bumped into them ashore at the Blue Bay Bar. Barely ashore this, you land on a slightly wobbly wooden jetty and the waves lap at the front of the bar terrace, a nice spot.