British Virgin Islands

Christopher Columbus, Sir Francis Drake and other privateers and pirates must have had the same view of these islands as we had. Columbus, seeing so many islands, named them after St Ursula and the 11,000 virgins slaughtered by the Hun. The others could hardly believe their luck in finding so many sheltered bays and caves in which to stash their booty. Sal Darago entered Salt Island Sound, crossed the Sir Francis Drake Channel and anchored in Road Harbour, Tortola on 1^st May.

Emily had posted 3 asthma inhalers on 11^th April. They had not arrived at the Post Office. Jeremy went up the mast in the bumpy harbour and found two broken wires at the base of the masthead tricolour. It was no easy task to reconnect the wires while standing on canvas ladders 42 feet up from the deck, needing to hold on but also needing 2 hands to do the job. His legs were like jelly when he finally descended, job done.

Kathy has a bath in the dinghy with rain water

 Blessed rain, as they say here, fell the next day. We collected 6 gallons. Jeremy measured the lazy jacks. These are strings slung from the mast to several places along the boom forming a cradle to collect the mainsail when it is lowered. Our old ones had gone rotten due to the effects of sun and salt water. We had a wet dinghy ride across Road Harbour to Golden Hind Chandlery, where we bought lengths of 3-ply line needed for the new lazy jacks. There was much splicing practice back at Sal Darago and then horror at finding a mistake in the measurements and joy that the new lazy jacks fitted – just!

Jeremy complete with waterproof torch prepares to enter a cave

We planned 3 days away from Tortola to visit some of the other islands. There was a fabulous, hidden anchorage called The Bight, on Norman Island. To our dismay it was filled with moorings that cost 30USD per night, leaving little space to anchor. Robert Louis Stephenson based “Treasure Island” on Norman Island, after hearing all the tales of pirate hideouts and hidden treasure from his sailor uncle. We found a place to anchor in Soldier Bay on the north side.

Under water at the Indians

The National Parks Authority had put down daytime moorings at many snorkelling and diving sites. The cost for a week was 50USD (or 150USD for a year) which entitled you to spend up to 90 minutes on any of their moorings. The next morning, quite early, we picked up a mooring at the Indians, almost vertical rocks that rise up from the seabed. The snorkelling was fabulous – lots of reef fish and a variety of colourful, soft corals. Soon afterwards, we picked up a mooring at Kelly’s Cove on Norman Island. We took a waterproof torch and snorkelled into 2 caves. One was so deep it was pitch black at the end. It was quite scary. I couldn’t see the fish. What was that touching my leg? There was an amazing cavern at the end with a high ceiling – a perfect hiding place for treasure.

Back on SD, we motored round Norman Island in calm conditions and anchored in Money Bay on the south side. There was no-one there except a lone, large bonefish, which I named Norman.

Calm anchorage at Key Cay

The next day we left Norman Island and snorkelled in calmish seas at Carrot Bay and Shark Point on Peter Island. We anchored in Key Bay for the night, south of Key Cay. Swell came in overnight and it was rolly by morning. We went ashore looking for pirate treasure amongst old, twisted trees, some with as many as 10 trunks, on a strip of land between the bay and a dry salt pond or mangrove swamp. We had thunder and lightning at night – all very dramatic. Jeremy was up at midnight collecting rain water. He filled our tanks.

Tete Anglais at Norman Island

We returned to Tortola on 8^th May. We were supposed to be leaving for Bermuda today. There were still no meds for me at the Post Office. So, we sailed off for a few more days. En route to Virgin Gorda we picked up an NPA mooring off Ginger Island and snorkelled in Alice in Wonderland. The name conjures up something more exciting than it was, but it was still an interesting place to be, close to cliffs, in clear water with lots of coral fans waving beneath us. Next stop was Fallen Jerusalem, an amazing island of giant boulders of the sort we saw at Belitung, Indonesia. 

We snorkelled around, between and, in Jeremy’s case, under the boulders, even landing on a secret beach where the surf filled our swimming costumes with sand. It was sticky sand too! Quite late in the afternoon, we picked up another NPA mooring at The Baths on Virgin Gourda. Most of the tour boats had gone. Dinghies are not allowed to stay on the beach so Jeremy took me ashore, put the dinghy on a mooring and swam ashore. We walked to Devil’s Bay through giant boulders, sometimes finding ourselves in vast caves, sometimes squeezing along narrow passages and sometimes clambering over the huge boulders assisted by wooden steps or ropes. It was fascinating. We managed to get lost twice (in spite of signs and markers) gratefully arriving at the deserted and beautiful Devil’s Bay. It was almost dark when we anchored at St Thomas Bay off Spanish Town and rain was threatening.

Night approaches as we enter the fabulous Baths' formation

The cooking gas ran out that night just as the rain began and supper was half cooked. Jeremy changed the bottle. We stayed on board the following day. It rained all day. More water was collected and the day spent cleaning and doing jobs. The next day we went ashore for supplies at Spanish Town, weighed anchor on our return and motored a few miles to Savannah Bay, where we snorkelled the edge of a reef. It would have been secluded but there was a beach resort nearby. Thankfully, being the end of the season, it was quiet.

Duck or grouse?

On our way back to Tortola, we stopped off at The Baths and snorkelled from Devil’s Bay to The Baths. It was superb snorkelling, the underwater world mirroring the walk we’d done a few days earlier. There was no parcel for me at the Post Office back in Road Town. We went to the hospital and were directed to a pharmacy. They had budesonide inhalers combined with other ingredients under the brand name, Symbicort. I would have to take twice as many doses but it was the best I could do. We had to leave the next day.

We had a pre-birthday meal for me on 13^th May, cleared Customs and Immigration, had our gas bottle filled and topped up on fresh fruit, veg and meat. The next day we motored to Savannah Bay for one night and left the British Virgin Islands on 15^th May for an 8 day passage north to Bermuda.

Anguilla

 It felt good to be on British territory again. The only port of entry is Road Bay, Sandy Ground. Everyone was friendly, including Customs and Immigration. Having read that it cost 100EC dollars a day to stay overnight in the other anchorage at Crocus Bay and 15US dollars a day for daytime mooring at the outer islands, we decided to stay in Road Bay, where there was no charge. There were plenty of beach bars and restaurants. We sampled Ripples, Roy’s and Johno’s – all good. In addition, public toilets and showers were provided and you could help yourself to non-drinking water. The only drawback was the supermarket had closed and it was a two and a half mile walk to The Valley, the main town on Anguilla. A local guest house sold us a loaf of bread. We chose it, but it turned out to be a fruit loaf, which tasted just like hot cross buns – lovely on its own, not so good with ham and cheese.

Road Bay, Anguilla.

The next day we walked to The Village. There was little shade, the sun was hot and the traffic was surprisingly heavy but we were saving the taxi cost of 14USD each way. We were directed to the lovely, air conditioned library, where we were given a map of the island. Lakes World Supermarket is well stocked with everything and soon we were facing the return trip with heavy rucksacks to carry. With only half a mile to go, we were grateful when a BMW driver stopped to give us a lift.

Sandy Ground, sea to R and Salt Lagoon to L.

As you know, we like hiking so the following day we set off for the highest point, just 230 feet above Road Bay. Don’t laugh! The sun rose higher in the clear, blue sky and once again shade was hard to find. A local man called Maxwell, chatted to us and took us into one of his houses that he lets out. The view on his 40ft wide balcony straight out over the Atlantic Ocean was stunning. There had to be a short cut down to Road Bay and after a few failed attempts barred by prickly shrubs, Jeremy found a path which we later learned was used by locals to lead their horses down to the beach.

The view from Maxwell's house.

There are no public buses on Anguilla, so we hired a car for the day. Maurice is a taxi driver who also hires out cars, so we used him. We paid 35USD for the car and 20USD for a local licence. Actually, we paid in Eastern Caribbean dollars as this was the last country that we were visiting that used this currency. Our little Nissan had only one fault: the air conditioning was not working. Maurice had driven off in his taxi before we realised. Off we went with the windows open to the west end of the island. Here there are plenty of top end resorts with apartments right on the beach. Next stop was the beautiful Shoal Bay East, which we nearly did not see as there was a 5USD parking charge. We found another route down and walked on the pristine, white sand which fringed the turquoise water.

Shoal Bay East, Anguilla.

After we’d done an unscheduled circumnavigation of the cement works, we were close to the east end of Anguilla, where we found an undeveloped bay called Junk’s Hole. What a gorgeous place – a few coconut palms waving in the breeze, about eight other people, white sand, blue sea and Nat’s Beach Bar, where we had lunch. Our day ended with another visit to the supermarket to stock up with heavy stuff.

We spent our last day having lunch in Johno’s at Sandy Ground with four Britsh people from a yacht called “Low Profile”. 

Jeremy tries to move the front wheel off his foot.

The 90 mile overnight sail to Tortola in the British Virgin Islands was good. Our AIS was working well but our tricolour navigation light on the top of the mast was not working. Fortunately, we have an all round white light, which meant the ships and yachts could see us. Guess who’s going up the mast to repair the tricolour?

Nat's bar at Junk's Hole, Anguilla. It was a nice lunch too.

St Martin/Sint Maarten

We knew the weather was going to change by the end of the week, so we cleared out of Saba on Thursday morning, 17^thApril. The wind was already gusting from 5-25 knots on the mooring at 7.00am, so we put a reef in the mainsail and left. It was 32 miles to Marigot Bay, St Martin, but we knew we would be in the lee of the island for the last 10 miles. The first squall hit us about half an hour after we’d left. Heavy rain belted down and visibility reduced to half a mile or less. The waves began to build and soon they were breaking over Sal Darago and drenching the cockpit. After a short while, the squall passed and weak sunshine tried to break through the grey clouds. Whew! We breathed sighs of relief and thought the worst was over. We should have known better. Within an hour the sky darkened again and Jeremy put a second reef in the mainsail. Once again, steep, breaking waves swept over us and Jeremy noticed that our dorade air vent on the roof was facing right into the waves. This means that sea water can pour down through the saloon ceiling and drench everything below. He went forward and capped the vent hole.

The view from Fort Louis over Marigot Bay and beyond

Only 6 hours after leaving Saba, we motored into the beautiful, turquoise shelter of Marigot Bay on the French side of St Martin. (The island is half French and half Dutch. Both sides have their own currency: euros for the French and Netherland guilders for the Dutch, although both sides accept US dollars. There are also several languages spoken including English.) I felt exhausted and shell shocked, but we were still in one piece and Sal Darago had taken the battering without damage. After clearing in, obtaining maps from Tourist Information and buying a few provisions, we could relax and sleep.

Jeremy claiming Fort Louis for Britain

The next day was Good Friday. Many places were closed so we had a planning and making lists day. The wind continued to be strong and heavy showers kept passing over all through the Eater weekend. On Saturday, we caught a bus to the Dutch side, compared prices at Budget Marine and Island Water World and bought a Standard Horizon VHF radio with AIS. For the non-sailor reading this, AIS stands for Automatic Identification System. All big ships have to have transmitters and receivers fitted, which give their position and course. Our AIS is a receiver and it picks up the signals from ships and other vessels giving us their name, course and closest point of approach. If a ship is going to pass too close, we can call it by name on the VHF radio. Hopefully, we can avoid any future close encounters. We decided to buy the equipment here as this island is duty free. We also bought a pair of waterproof binoculars, which have been on our list for ages.

How many cruise ships?

Jeremy spent Easter Sunday fitting the VHF radio with AIS and I checked all our tinned and dried food items before making a provisioning list. We walked up to Fort Louis just above the bay on Easter Monday. The next day we took our laundry to Shrimpys, a great facility for cruisers located in the French canal, just before the bridge into Simpson Bay lagoon. Here, I spent most of the morning catching up with email and posting the latest blog, while Jeremy made several trips filling up with diesel at the fuel station opposite and water at Shrimpys. We spent the afternoon in the supermarket.

Rent a brolly at Phillipsburg

It was time to have a look round St Martin/Sint Maarten, so we did our own island tour on the bus (well, three buses actually, total cost for the day – $12US). The traffic is heavy on both sides of the island. The Dutch capital, Phillipsburg, was packed to overflowing with tourists. SIX cruise ships were in the port, disgorging a minimum of 10,000 visitors. Avoiding the diamond shops and expensive restaurants, we eventually found three places we wanted to visit: the small, but informative museum, the Courthouse and the restored Methodist church. Our bus broke down on the way home; it boiled over on a hill. Fortunately, we were able to catch another one but this one nearly ran out of fuel and we had to wait on the bus while the driver filled up at a garage. We find travelling this way more interesting than “doing” the islands in air conditioned taxis and a lot cheaper!

Found a church at last

On a calm Friday morning, we motored the 15 miles to Road Bay, Anguilla, another beautiful, but flat island with stunning blue bays where turtles pop their heads up and lobsters lodge in coral crevices. 

Sunset at Road Bay, Anguilla

St Kitts, St Eustatius and Saba

St Kitts, official name St Christopher, has Basseterre as its capital, the same name as the capital of Guadeloupe. We had to go to Basseterre to clear out with Customs and Immigration. We chose not to spend a night in Port Zante marina and anchored for free near Deep Port, the commercial harbour. A week before our visit two local men in a small boat, who handle the dock lines for the cruise ships, were drowned when they were sucked into the bow thruster of a cruise ship. As there was a strong wind and large waves in the bay when we were there, someone official had deemed the cruise ship dock unsafe and “Thomson Dream” was tied up in the commercial port. We struggled to find a place to land our dinghy ashore, using a rope ladder to the Coastguard dock at first and then being told we must go into Deep Port to see Customs. We had a bag of washing with us as the laundry was just up the hill.

Deep Port, Basseterre, St Kitts

We clambered up rocks and boulders and Jeremy secured the dinghy to the remains of a wrecked dock. At Customs we were told that we had to go to Port Zante for yacht clearance. As we could not go in the dinghy the Customs Officer took us there in her car. Well we could hardly ask her to go to the laundry first, so that was how we ended up carting a bag of washing around with us while we cleared Customs, did some food shopping, ate lunch and walked about a mile or two back to Deep Port. It was now too late to have the laundry done the same day, so it was carried back to Sal Darago. We spent a rolly night at anchor and left at first light.

Cruise ship versus cargo ship

ST Eustatius, commonly known as Statia, this island is part of the Netherlands and has two currencies – the Netherland guilder or florin and US dollars. We chose US dollars. We motorsailed the 18 miles from Basseterre and picked up a marine park mooring off Oranjestaad. The port authority charged us 15USD and Senapa (the park authority) charged 30USD for using the mooring for a week. Yachts are supposed to use the moorings but they are allowed to drop a stern anchor to keep the bows into the swell. This we did and we were much more comfortable.

Kathy on top of the Quill

Oranjestaad has a lower town and an upper town. The laundry was even higher than the upper town where the original hospital had been built. Jeremy carried the bag all the way to find the laundry closed, although it was meant to be open. Fortunately, we had a phone number but our phones would not work on Statia. A kind man working nearby telephoned for us and the laundry owner drove over and took our bag. It was Friday and we could collect on Monday.

Jeremy showing the width of the roots of a giant silk cotton tree

Over the weekend, we hiked to the top of the Quill and went on a self-guided historical walking tour.  We climbed up to the rim of the dormant volcano from sea level, about 500 metres up. The path trifurcated: one into the crater 240 metres lower, one to a viewpoint 100 metres higher, but near vertical and the last one to the peak at over 600 metres and quite a bit longer. We chose the viewpoint and had a fantastic view of the north of the island complete with runway, and just before we descended a plane came in to land. 

The replacement underwater camera is working well

As it was still early, we decided to go to the base of the crater and this also was a scramble. There were several series of rocks where ropes had been placed to assist ascent and descent. The bottom was jungle with among other things snakes and huge buttress trees. We were back in town for a local lunch of goat stew served outside the defunct theatre by a women’s group for $10US each. We took our takeaway boxes to a point high above the harbour and ate our lunch gazing out to sea. By the way, it doesn’t taste like chicken!

The next day it poured with rain half-way through our tour. All the same, it was interesting to see the variety of historical buildings and the restoration that has been done.

Heavy rain turns the road into a river

SABA

Our departure to Saba, only 17 miles away, was delayed by the laundry. The owner would deliver it to the Senapa office within the hour, she said.  We know about island time, so we were grateful to receive it only 2 hours later. Saba is another Dutch island. How it was ever settled beggars belief! All the villages are way up in the mountains and until the port was built the only way for goods and people to land was at the Ladder, where 800 steps were cut into the rock. It’s still something of a challenge to land. Because the island is surrounded by a marine park, all visiting yachts have to pick up a mooring or anchor off in the designated area. Then you take your dinghy into the harbour. Nothing too unusual about that, except the south anchorage is open to the trade winds and the swell. Sal Darago was bucking like a rodeo horse. Somehow, Jeremy got the outboard on the dinghy and we wore our lifejackets to go ashore in Fort Bay. The harbour master charged us 20USD, Customs and Immigration were free and the marine park office charged us 12USD for 3 nights on their moorings and 5USD for a hiking map. Once safely back on Sal Darago, we motored two miles to the only other anchorage and picked up a mooring in much calmer Well’s Bay.

Windwardside from the top of Mount Scenery

On  Tuesday 15 Apr, we tackled the dormant volcano, Mount Scenery. It is 877 metres high and does not have a recognisable crater. The island goes vertically up from the sea and there are four centres of population. Nearly all buildings have red roofs, white walls and Saba green shutters. It is very Legoland. We took a taxi to Windwardside (a town) and started from there. This meant we only had to climb 477 metres, much of which is uneven steps - 1064 of them. We set off at 0900 and were quickly puffed! However, Cable and Wireless had provided some shelters with a bench for our recuperation. At the inevitable fork, one could follow the defined path to a telecom tower and viewpoint or stretch your legs over a quagmire path to the summit. We chose the summit first. It was very slippery and the final crawl was through a tight tunnel covered with mud from previous grasping boots. The view from the top was misty, but just, occasionally visible. After our descent, where I jumped and banged my knees together painfully, we set off for the telecom tower. Once again the view of toytown below was spectacular. Jeremy found a water tank near the tower and we both washed some of the mud off ourselves.

The intrpid duo standing on the trig point, Mount Scenery

Back at the join in the path was a bench where we had a sandwich and met with a couple who appeared to be an advert for GAP clothing (she being the obligatory bright orange with new, immaculate trainers). We explained about the path to the summit and they decided not to take it. 

Jeremy proves we were there

Setting off down the path with about 1000 steps left to go, I slipped and fell over. Fortunately, I only scraped my hand and was able to enjoy lunch in a restaurant at 1240 hours. We then decided to walk all the way back to the harbour, having forgotten that the road did quite a bit up as well as down. As we finished our ice creams in The Bottom, and started our final precipitous descent by road to the harbour, the heavens opened and we were soaked.

Kathy taking a tumble

So now we’re off to do some snorkelling in this world class diving paradise. We’ve already seen 2 turtles and a huge lobster and swum through a tunnel. Exciting stuff. Tomorrow, we leave for St Martin, the French side (back to Euros). Happy Easter everyone.

Nevis

Surprise, surprise! I bet you didn’t expect another post so soon. First of all some news. Our house in Lancashire was sold on 4^th April. We have mixed emotions about this – happy that the months of waiting are over, but sad that our family home of 34 years is no longer ours. We are now homeless and Sal Darago is the only roof over our heads that we own. Don’t feel too sorry for us, because we are in the Caribbean, after all.

Passing Redonda

The wind was light when we left Montserrat for the 34 mile passage to Nevis. We flew our sails but we had to motor as well. Our route took us close to uninhabited Redonda, which reminded us of Ailsa Craig in the approaches to the Firth of Clyde in Scotland.

The Bath House Hotel, Nevis

We cleared in at Charlestown where the three offices of Customs, Immigration and Port Authority are right next to each other, upstairs in the old cotton ginnery. Anchoring is not allowed unless all the moorings are taken, so we paid 160ECD (approx 40 pounds)to cover the cost of entry and mooring. No further charges are made in St Kitts, as both islands are one country, but we have to report to Customs in St Kitts 24 hours before departure to St Eustatius. The dinghy ride from the nearest moorings to Charlestown takes 15 minutes and it can be a wet one.

Approaching Nevis

We tried unsuccessfully to buy a dongle SIM at the Digicel shop so we’re still relying on free wifi and internet cafes. We did find time to visit the museums of Horatio Nelson and Alexander Hamilton.  Nelson married a local widow called Fanny Nesbit, whose family had a plantation in the north of Nevis. Hamilton (no connection to Nelson’s affair with Lady Hamilton) was born on Nevis, went to America and became the first Treasurer of the United States. Some think of him as one of America’s founding fathers.

We refused several offers of taxi tours round the island and took the local bus instead. The north going bus took us almost halfway round to Butlers, where we had lunch in an inexpensive local bar and restaurant. I tried conch water, a delicious stew of conch and vegetables. We walked a mile or two visiting the ruins of some sugar mills on our way to Zion. Here we caught the south going bus back to Charlestown. The cost of transport was 9ECD each, about 2 quid.

Eden Brown's Sugar Mill

The next day was Sunday, so off we went in Sal Darago looking for the moorings further north. We didn’t find any and almost went aground twice going too far inshore in our search. At Oualie Bay, we picked up an ex-park mooring and stayed the night. The wind was gusting up to gale force and there were plenty of wind waves but not much swell. We went ashore to a bar and restaurant called the Gallipot. It’s owned by an Englishman from Kent. We had Sunday lunch – lots of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, veg and gravy. This was our first Sunday lunch since last November and it was very good. The beers cost 6ECD each. On our way back we decided to have a beer at the Oualie Beach Hotel. After all, we were using their free Wi-Fi. Here the beers cost 11ECD each, the most expensive in the Eastern Caribbean, so far.

New River Estate

Now we are in St Kitts, only 3 miles across the Narrows. We spent last night in the calm and peaceful Shitten Bay (honest) and snorkelled in Bug’s Hole. Both are lovely, unspoiled anchorages, so don’t be put off by their names.