Wednesday, April 2nd
Got up early and thought I'd get a start on that tan, so headed down to the beach again....I dozed on a deck chair for a while and then went in to use the breakfast voucher. I wasn't really hungry but figured American OWED it to me...
Finally got on the plane to Guadaloupe at 12:30. It was a gorgeous, clear day all the way down and we landed at Point a Pitre airport at about 2:30. It was tres French...like being in France french! The best part was that were almost no typically ugly American tourists to distract from the pleasant French experience! I figured out how to change some dollars into Euros (1 Euro = 92 cents), and found a cab to take me to the Marina Bas de Fort. Dad met me at the dock. He looked great - full beard, tan, had gained a little weight since Christmas, but apparently Carol is a really good cook. Best of all, he looked relaxed and happy. First impression of Carol is that she must be made of steel to have put up with my daddy for almost 3 months, but she also seems vibrant, easy going and comfortable in her skin...and she does NOT look her age!
After I got my stuff put away, or "stowed" as they say in boat lingo, we walked around the marina a bit...it was hot and deserted, but we found a little cafe and had a snack. Carol had a crepe du fromage (cheese), i had some ice cream. Dad had a beer and bites of both. Then we went to the grocery store which was full of french things...the real cheeses, the exquisite pastries, the cool boxes and packages. Loaded down with the staples (diet Coke, Nutella and french bread), we headed back to the Sea 'Shak, and sat in the back of the boat - aka the "stern" watching the sun set. We are parked, or docked, as they say, next to a lovely Hans Christian, which dad and I gazed at adoringly. I was hoping the owner would be gorgeous, single and straight, but he never surfaced. On the other side were some Italians, but they weren't too social. Lots of other nationalities scattered up and down the quay...kids, dogs...it was like a floating Melrose Place.
For dinner, Carol prepared chicken piccata and gazpacho, which was really good when soaked into fresh crispy french bread! We sat around and talked til late in the night (7:30). There were alot of lights in the marina area, but you could still see the stars! It was time to hit the sack...er...berth, where I had no problem falling asleep.
Thursday April 3rd: Woke up at 4:30am to close the hatch and end the Chinese water torture from the rain storm that swept in...dropped off again and got up at 6:30....9 1/2 hours of sleep never felt so good. french bread and papaya made the perfect breakfast. When we were all coherent, we got in the dinghy and went around the marina into the main part of Point a Pitre. There was a lively, colorful market in full swing, with every kind of spice know to man...and some known only to beast, I am sure...there was also the usual un-american market assortment of fresh fish and exotic fruit, and we wondered how all these people selling the exact same things to the handful of tourists managed to stay solvent...There were no big fancy hotels, at least none I could see, and there didn't seem to be gorgeous fine beaches that would attract tourists. Nonetheless, I had a blast talking to all the people in french and understanding what they were saying. Dad and Carol were a little lost, I think. The only problem came when I ordered dad some interesting LOOKING fish stew. Turned out to be less interesting in taste...and when he pulled that tentacle out from between his teeth, I think he thought I was trying to kill him...hey, it LOOKED like red beans and rice.
After lunch we took the dinghy up the River Salee, which divides the two halves of Guadaloupe (imagine a lopsided butterfly, with the river going up between the wings). We motored all the way through, exploring a little side stream choked with mangroves. The wind had picked up, or maybe daddy was just getting more exuberant as we headed back to the 'Shak, but it was really bumpy and wet, and we were soaked by the time we got back to the marina. After rinsing off, we rode over to the little beach opposite the marina and collected shells. Dad found me a big conch and some other cool ones, and then while he got comfy with his baggie in some trees, me and Carol absorbed some sun, keeping the strange rasta looking dude in sight out of the corner of our eye.
Sufficiently scorched for my lily skin, we headed home, then me and daddy went to the store for more bread (yes, Virginia, man CAN live by bread alone) and some champagne to go with the creme de cassis Carol had found in town. We had some cheese and crackers and kir royales, which knocked dad and Carol right out, while I got cleaned up to go explore the marina - I had heard there was a disco and have you ever known me to pass up on a chance to dance?? I figured if dad and Carol weren't gonna have the french boy waiting for me in the boat, I would have to go find him my own damn self...BUT, there were almost no people at any of the restaurants, and not a one in the right age range...so I walked back and sat in the cockpit awhile, just listening to the sounds. This is "nice." I don't need much more than this, really, though some actual sailing might be a good thing, since I told everyone I was going SAILING, and maybe a white sand beach and some turquoise blue water to snorkel in...and then there is always that french boy....The Italians next door were having dinner and it was fun listening to them, picking out a few words. Fabulous warm night, una bella notte. I went to bed around 1030, with the moon over the top of my hatch, and Jupiter not too far away.
To be Continued
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