Where should I start with this story......? Hmmmm. It is about an island..... should I write stupid in front of island or not? There might be some sailors slash travellers slash folks slash people out there, who really like this island and would be defended but this island didn't do much good to me.... should I write stupid in front of island.....? Well, fuck that, this is my story St. Lucia cost me a minor fortune.
Petit Piton is rising 2600 feet above sea level. Soufriere, St. Lucia, March 2010
It all started with two rocks sticking out of the water, The Pitons, I saw in a magazine. They looked really amazing sticking vertical out of the water and towering at 2600 feet and you could put down the anchor right next to them. There I had it, an island I really wanted to see. Kenneth and I flew from Amsterdam in early January and when the captain of the plane came to the Caribbean Sea, he flew passed The Pitons of St. Lucia. The magazine photos looked really good but from the the Boing 747 window, it even looked better, I had to go to this island, St. Lucia. We were preparing my sailboat Solitude in Curaçao when another Dane put his dinghy next to Solitude. We talked a bit about this and that and told the guy that we were going to St. Lucia. He laughed and said, why would you go there? There is nothing there to see. Now, in my world I don't travel on other peoples opinion, I want to see it with my own eyes and he was very arrogant about it to.
The island was getting closer and closer when we sailed towards Rodney Bay on St. Lucias north-eastern coast from Guadeloupe and I was excited. First try and the anchor was holding in 5 meters of water by a sandy beach with two story hotels all of the beach. The usual routine after a sail was taken out and the dinghy was in the water with my old Nissan 8 horsepower outboard engine on and we went into Rodney Bay Marina to check in with customs and immigration. On this island and very rare seen in the Caribbean, customs and immigration was in the same building, very convenient.
Maybe I should explain this for landlubbers, shore-huggers and other folks who fly around the world and don't have to go through all this stupid waste of time and paperwork . Every island you visit with a sailboat, you have to go to customs and immigration to check in, just like you are doing when you are travelling with a plane but in the airport, you don't have to look for it, they cattle you through customs and immigration. On some islands you even have to pay for a cruising permit, well that was they call it, I'm pretty sure all that money goes to a really nice Christmas lunch. Anyway, when you are leaving the island, you have to go back to customs and immigration and check out. Some places it is not in the same building as it was in Rodney Bay, so you have to walk, take a bus or a taxi between the two places. It may sound like I'm complaining about this and how long can it really take to do this? Well, you are absolutely right, I am complaining. I just can't see the fucking point of doing this, and think about the poor jungles that are cut down to this gigantic waste of paper. Why the hell don't they get a computer and put all the data into that? No, lets waste paper, put them into files, store them for fuck knows how long and then toss them into a bin... Brilliant idea!
Time. yeah, how long can't this little signing papers take? In this office, where customs and immigration was in the same building, actually it was in the same room, it "only" took 45 minutes. There were about 5 other sailors in front of me but the lazy bastards were so slow it looked like they were walking backwards. Finally it was my turn with step one, the custom officer. He kept asking me questions about the boat. Like, what size it was, what colour, how many engines were on board, things I had just filled out on the papers. No shit it took so long!
Next step, immigration officer at the desk right next to customs. I stood for a while with the copy she needed, and Kenneths and my own passport in my hand. She was writing something in a book, looked at me and continued to write in the book. After 10 minutes of standing around, sitting, coughing, sneezing, picking my nose, she was still writing in the fucking book. I went up to her, gave her the paper and said, is this the paper you want? She looked up and said, can I help you? What the FUCK do you think you stupid fat cow, I have been in front of you ugly face for 10 minutes now..... I was thinking and said, yes please. She found the stamp for the passports and the operation took less than 30 seconds. Dumb ass! Next desk, pay for a cruising permit or what ever they called it here. Downstairs Kenneth asked, where have you been? but he could see the smoke coming out of my ears and didn't expect an answer...
Back on Solitude we ate dinner, had some rum and beers and went into a bar with the dinghy and my old Nissan 8 horsepower outboard on. In the bar the locals constantly tried to sell you pot, cocaine or was asking to buy them a drink. It was a bit annoying but hey, it couldn't be like this everywhere on the island....
We got a bit drunk - anything else would be stupid in a bar - and continued to the bar-street in the dinghy. We had found a small dock near a shopping mall which was more convenient, and I had a padlock on my old Nissan 8 horsepower, a chain around the gas tank and a 10 mm stainless steel chain from the dinghy to the dock. Nobody dumb enough would try to steal this dinghy and by the way, the old Nissan 8 horsepower was really beaten.
Lots of beers later - I can not really remember what time it was - we agreed to go back to Solitude and stumbled towards the dinghy at the dock. I was focusing out of my left eye but realised it was shut and tried the right one but sometimes you don't want to know the truth. My old Nissan 8 horsepower, beaten, rusty and leaking, was gone from the dinghy. Some fucking idiot had taken it off along with the gas tank. I cursed the stupid island of St. Lucia and everyone on it and really felt like burning down all of Rodney Bay but that would not really help me getting back my old Nissan 8 horsepower outboard engine right now, and at least we still had the oars.
Drunk - is an understatement - we paddle from the inner lagoon towards the exit of the marina but span around too many times to ever make it out to Solitude. We stopped at the marina and passed out on a lawn under a palm tree.
Next morning we woke up with people walking pass us, grinning, shaking their heads and pointing fingers at us. My face felt like one of the papers that had been laying around for fuck knows how long, crushed and already in the bin and I was still drunk. The first couple of minutes I was trying to convince my brain that it all had been a terrible nightmare, however, the peanut of a brain swimming in alcohol, did not agree, the outboard was still missing from the dinghy and why the hell would I be sleeping on a lawn.....?
I was out of power, out of ideas and my brain didn't corporate so Kenneth went to the docks. When he got back he had sorted the first problem, we could borrow a dinghy from a Danish boat to get to Solitude and return it the next morning. Really friendly of them, there are some good people out there.
Back on Solitude we passed out for a while - a long while - and watched movies all night. Next morning we returned the dinghy with a bottle of wine and thanked the family of the Danish boat again. Now we had to find a new outboard engine. We walked around various workshops but didn't find any outboard that was worth buying and bumped into Naja. She told us a local guy had an outboard engine for sale and showed us where we could find him. Another guy in the workshop explained the outboard guy would be back in one hour and we went to a bar by the marina to have a beer. As predicted, the guy didn't show up with the engine when the hour had passed, and the brand new Mercury Sea Pro 15 horsepower engine at the chandlery Island Water World, sounded more and more tempting. Another hour passed with no outboard guy and we were running out of time to get a ride back to the mothership, Solitude. I decided to bring my bank account into a staggering minus and got the brand new Mercury Sea Pro 15 horsepower at Island Water World. It was a mission to get the outboard to the dinghy tied up at the Danish motorsail boat. Again I borrowed their dinghy to get fuel across the bay from the marina. Even here a local dude was trying to sell me pot and cocaine and ended up asking me for money, I didn't buy anything or give - what appeared to be the local village idiot - any money. With the new outboard engine on the dinghy we went back to Solitude anchored by the beach. A full day of searching for an outboard engine had ended and I guess I should be happy with the new engine but it didn't taste right. I was thinking about my old friend, the Nissan 8 horsepower engine who had taken me and the previously owner and builder of Solitude Bob, so many places. Where was it right now and what was it thinking?
We were watching a movie in the cockpit and could hear the local savages on the beach, yelling, singing, half naked with a wild look in the eye and spears in their hands, dancing around my half buried old Nissan 8 horsepower engine while a drum constantly sounding in a scary rhythm and bonfires lit everywhere. Or maybe it was just some people having rum.....
The usually things were done on the island, shopping for food, drinking a beer while watching a football match on TV, hanging out and doing nothing. We wanted to go to Barbados to visit two friends of Kenneth's, Lars and Bjarne but to sail there would be a beating against the wind and waves for two days and we decided to take the easy solution, buy plane tickets.
Solitude got moored up in a slip in Rodney Bay Marina, I was not to keen on leaving her at anchor. If the savages could steal an old Nissan 8 horsepower, imaging what they could get out of Solitude....
Rodney bay to the right in the photo and the marina in the middle. Rodney Bay, St. Lucia, March 2010
Barbados is very touristy but has some of the most beautiful beaches I have yet seen in the Caribbean. One day we went around the west coast in a speedboat, with a cooler filled with beer and snorkeled with turtles, not a terrible way of spending a day.
One of many beaches on the west coast of the island. Barbados, March 2010
Captain, Kenneth in the back with Lars and Bjarne to the right. Barbados, March 2010
Beautiful water in front of the beach. Barbados, March 2010
The speed boat we were cruising in. Barbados, March 2010
Captain crusing along. Barbados, March 2010
The local beer is called Banks, Lars at the ladder and Kenneth feeding the turtles with his breakfast... Barbados, March 2010
Four days later, a bit more poor and with a screaming liver, we were back on my watery home.
The Pistons I had seen from the Boing 747 and in the magazine was getting closer to the bow of Solitude and what a sight, it was really amazing. 1 nautical mile (1,852 km) of the coast local dudes in small boats, came out to ask if we needed help getting a mooring ball. They kept asking and asking and finally got the message after 14 no thanks, and went over to another approaching sailor to ask the same questions.
We picked up a mooring ball in the bay of Soufriere. Just 50 meters from the shore it was around 30 metres deep and when you anchor, you are multiplying the depth with 4, that is how much chain you have to put out. I "only" have 80 metres of chain and it was easier to pick up a mooring.
Petit Piton with a flock of birds. Soufriere, St. Lucia, March 2010
Soufriere, St. Lucia, March 2010
Local woman doing laundry. Soufriere, St. Lucia, March 2010
The town was a real Caribbean beauty but the locals attacking us with questions on the dock about watching our dinghy, took all the beauty out of the village. Every local person you were walking pass was trying to sell you the usually drug, asking for cigarettes or money, it was super annoying. I have been travelling a fare bit and experienced it before but this was just too much right now. We went back to the dinghy dock where about 7 local dudes followed us to the dinghy asking for money for watching the dinghy. Maybe they didn't have much money and why could we not give them a little bit so they would survive....? Well, fuck 'em! They were so rude and annoying! At the end we gave a guy some change, around 2 dollars US but he kept asking for more money and at the end he threw the change into the dinghy.... We had it with this stupid island of St. Lucia and their local idiots. It would have been a really nice island if it wasn't for the people living on it.....
All night at the mooring ball, it was rolling like crazy, raining and the mooring ball was banging on the hull of Solitude, a little present from St. Lucia to the two sail bums on Solitude. Next morning, rather tired from a sleepless night and still angry, we changed mooring closer to town and way less rolly but then the rain came again. We ate breakfast and sat around waiting for the rain to stop, but it didn't really happen. Going over all possibilities and reasons why we should stay here in Soufriere, we found none, took the line from the mooring and sailed down to Vieux Fort, the town we needed to check out from.
Kenneth and skipper with foul weather gear on, sailing towards Vieux Fort. St. Lucia, March 2010
The 3 hours sail was a bit rough at the end but we been through worse weather and anchored in the bay of Vieux Fort. Customs and immigration was not in the same building as Rodney Bay, a matter of fact, immigration was all the way in the airport. At the customs office I had to fill out the exact same paper as in Rodney Bay, only different was a cross with my pencil in outbound instead of inbound, fucking pointless!
And the guy asked questions about stuff that I had all ready put on the paper. Only highlight was, when he asked if I had any pets onboard - which I had answered no to on the paper - said, only my friend, everyone was laughing.
The walk to the airport only took 20 minutes, or so we were told by another of the bright locals. 50 minutes later, sweating like pigs, we were in the well hidden immigration office at the airport. However, here in Vieux Fort no one of the locals were trying to sell you anything so I guess that was a positive thing about this island...... Oh yes, another positive thing , the busses were cheap!
We took a bus back to town and did some last minute shopping in a supermarket. We meet a couple from New Zealand slash Australia - Chris and Cathrina - who I bumped into at the customs office. They were sailing tomorrow morning at 5 o'clock, just like us, and we decided to make a race out of it to Bequia in the Grenadines, our next island. The result of that race need no mentioning in this forum but right now we are anchored in Admiralty Bay on Bequia - pronounced BEGWAY by the way.
A sunset over Admiralty Bay on the small island. Bequia, Grenadines, March 2010
