Guadaloupe, a little taste of France

After the amazing island of Montserrat, we sailed south to Guadeloupe - the butterfly island.  We call it that because it is shaped like a butterfly with two wing shaped islands joined in the middle.  When we left Montserrat, we were a little worried that we would not be able to sail the whole way to Guadeloupe - the winds appeared to be coming from the South East, and we needed a heading pretty much a little South of South East.  To be able to sail this boat, and most any boat come to that, the wind can be coming from almost any relative angle to the heading you want to make, except head-on, and about 45 degrees either side of that.  When you sail with the wind at a small angle to your heading, and in your face, it is called close to the wind.  You can turn the boat gradually towards the oncoming wind until a point when the boat won’t sail any more - the trick is getting just to that point, but not beyond it, for maximum efficiency - sailing close to the wind.  Anyway, we thought the wind angle might be too small and we would end up motoring all the 43 miles of open sea down to Guadeloupe, but in the event, after we cleared the bottom of Montserrat where the winds wrap around the island and become a little confused, we saw more or less an easterly wind and it was perfect to sail a port tack close reach - one of our fastest and favourite points of sail.  The wind was 20 knots with occasional gusts of 23+ and the sea state was fairly lively due to the consistent winds.  The sun shone, our clothes came off, and we had a glorious sail for several hours relishing the exciting ride - up to 10 knots of speed at times - we were really moving!

Our arrival point in Guadaloupe was a small, quaint fishing village on the tip of the left hand butterfly wing, called Deshaies.  It lies within a small natural harbour between the plunging mountains all around.  We were able to go ashore to the local Police station and make our check-in, buy baguettes and croissants and generally feel French for the day.  The tiny town is very old with some quintessentially French architecture and it could have been anywhere on the Brittany coast.  We actually both felt very much at home here, being very familiar with all things French - the wines, food, customs and way of life.  We both speak French - Dara probably a little better than I having lived amongst the French in St Martin for all those years - which makes things way easier.  In some of these remote French outposts, English is not always guaranteed to be spoken by the locals.  We found the local Supermarche just down the road from the Police Station so popped in to buy the French staples - baguettes, pate, caramel flans, cheese and local rhum - some of the best rhums in the world are made in the Caribbean islands and each has its own particular blend and style.  We were tickled to find rhum available in a three litre box - how very convenient when you drink it like water!  

We spent three nights here relaxing and enjoying the beautiful view and hospitality.  Our general method of making tracks has been to sail down the leeward (Western) coasts of the islands, since this is where most of the protected anchorages are, and also where most of the local populations prefer to inhabit due to the better weather.  And so it was here in Guadaloupe also, the next stop being Pigeon Island about halfway down the left hand butterfly wing.  This spot was part of the Cousteau (remember Jacques?) National park so we were excited to snorkel and explore the area.  As expected the snorkelling was good, but I would have to say I was a little disappointed having watched all those JC films when I was a lad - full of amazing sea creatures and colourful fish - it was a little tame by comparison but none the less, beautiful.

Next stop - Basse Terre - the capital of Guadaloupe.  Although you would think this is the place to be, we spent a quick night here, and didn't even go ashore.  One of the promises of this sailing life is that one can go to places difficult or impossible to reach by any other means, and we are becoming a little spoiled by the beautiful remote places we are starting to see, and the prospect of running around a 'touristy' town like Basse Terre is a little less appealing now.  In any case this was a perfect staging spot for our next stop at Les Iles des Saintes - exactly the remote spot we wanted to see.  We sailed to the island of Terre de Basse, the western most island of the group, and ironically the highest and most mountainous (terre de basse in French means 'low country').  On the way into our anchorage in the pretty little bay of Grand Baie (again ironically named 'Great Bay') we had a moment when we saw a fishing line (read yellow 3/4 inch polypropylene rope) stretched across in front of us as we motored at about 6 knots.  It had come adrift from a fishing pot somewhere close by and was just floating ready to catch unawares sailors by surprise.  We saw it at the last moment and had no choice but to slam the motors into neutral to avoid the line catching in the props - a potentially disastrous scenario.  The boat ran over the line with our forward momentum and I ran round the deck looking to see where it would emerge.  At this point we had stopped and the line was floating out to the side of the boat, clearly caught on something under the waterline.  I was able to grab it with the boathook, pull it up and cut it free from the long part, so we just had a relatively short length attached to the boat.  We slowly made our way with the starboard engine only to the anchorage just a few hundred feet ahead and immediately dived under the boat to untangle the line.  Luckily it had snagged on one of our hull anodes ahead of the keel and was easily removed.  Panic over.  In all the islands, especially close to land, but sometimes not, you come across all manner of home made fishing pots and FADs (fishing attraction devices) scattered all over the place.  All you might see is a plastic jug, or maybe even only a clear water bottle used as a float so the fishermen know where to retrieve them, and it becomes a slalom dodging these death-buoys.  To get a line tangled in one prop when motoring means that you will lose propulsion on one side, and potentially damage the prop/saildrive/engine.  To get the line caught in both props means you lose control of the boat.  If you are close to land, rocks, a reef, or shallow water, this could mean being blown onto that rock, reef or shallow and losing your boat.  We read about a real life case of this just recently.  One of the sailing vlogs we follow showed a brand new monohull that was leaving a South Pacific atoll in darkness in early morning, and it fouled a dive buoy that they didn't see in the exit channel and lost their only engine.  They had reef on either side, just a few yards away, and not having time or space to sail out of trouble, they were blown onto the reef and the boat was a total loss.  Scary stuff.

This small bay on Terre de Basse was a pretty spot with some good snorkelling but only good for an overnight stay.  Just a couple of miles away on the other main island of Terre de Haut (means 'high country' but again, it's the flattest island lol) was the main town of Les Saintes. When I say town, I mean large village.  This was one of the prettiest places we had stayed yet - rolling green hills, small, quaint, colourful houses with quiet beach, ancient fort on a hill overlooking the town - just beautiful.  We stayed a couple of days, and took a short hike up the steep road to the fort, built in Napoleanic days and named after him as Fort Napolean des Saintes.  Napolean spent a lot of time in the Caribbean as the French navy tussled with the British to take control of the various islands up and down the leeward and windward chain.  His mistress Josephine herself was in fact born in Martinique.

Still very much aware of the threat of hurricanes, and not yet being far enough south to completely avoid them, we stay long enough to take in the essence of these islands, but move on briskly when we are rested.  And so onto our next island - Dominica.  More or less due south, and just a short sail and a new blog away...

The view of the bay at Deshaies from the restaurant

Deshaies

Another beautiful sunset

Catching dinner

Seine fishermen in Basse Terre

Des Saintes

On the way up to the fort Napoleon

View from the top

The bay from the fort

A big rock