Sailing - the rest of the trip

Saturday April 5th
We spent the morning exploring more of Basse Terre. We walked back into town and found the market - same stuff as in Point a Pitre, and then we wandered up and down the crowded streets. We tried to get the public bus back to the marina but it never came. A school bus stopped and picked up some kids and I asked the driver (en francais) if he had any clue as to where the public bus was. He didn’t, but invited us to hop on and he took us back to the marina - who says the locals won’t help Americans??

It was then time for more sailing, so I took my little pink pill, and we headed north along the coast. I managed to enjoy most of this trip sitting in the stern of the boat. The coast of Guadaloupe is incredibly green, dotted with little white houses, colorful roofs and a lighthouse here and there. There are no gorgeous white sand beaches, but that is because the island was created by the Soufriere volcano, which is apparently still active.

We arrived at Pigeon Island around 3:30 and anchored in the bay...the lurching and heaving, or "swells" were horrible!!! We tried to get to shore in the dinghy, but it was too rough, so we went back to the boat and gazed wistfully at the shore with all that fresh french bread out of reach. The boat was REALLY rocking, which did not make me too happy, especially since I could see the other anchored boats and how far over THEY were rocking...ughhh. We had some spaghetti for dinner with a huge helping of stargazing for dessert - no marina lights tonight, at least! Sleep did NOT happen. Between being worried we would roll OVER, or that we would drag anchor and end up as driftwood on the crashing rocks, I just did not have a good night...

Sunday, April 6th
Needless to say, I got up tired and cranky. I am not a morning person, to say the least. We took the dinghy over to Pigeon Island and snorkeled in the Cousteau Underwater Park. I hadn't snorkeled in probably 8 years and it was just amazing. There were lots of blue and yellow fish swimming around in the coral, but we didn't stay nearly long enough – maybe it was just me, but I did not want to go back to that pitching, rolling, lurching, heaving boat...but we had more sailing to do, and as far as I was concerned, anything had to be better than another night anchored here, so North we went.

We arrived in Deshaies around 2pm. We anchored in the calm (by comparison) bay and took much-needed naps. We were woken by kindly strangers who didn’t want us crashing into their boat…We had dragged the anchor so Carol and Dad reset it, then he took me and Carol to the dock. She and I walked around the boarded-up, locked-down, sidewalks-rolled-up town for an hour or so, wandered through the circus grounds, pitying the poor lion in his tiny cage, then went back to one of the beach cafes where it was (mon dieu!!) too late for lunch and too early for dinner...so we settled for a pina colada...Dad picked us up around 5 and we scavenged the galley for food...no fresh bread, wahhhhh. I think we ate nutella straight out of the jar!

We watched the sun set...not too spectactular - no "green flash" or anything, but still, the idea that I am a zillion miles from my world - physically and even mentally - for a while there I hadn't even thought about work! We played gin for a while and I was so relaxed I even won the first game!

Monday April 7th
We had a long trip (40 miles) ahead of us, and we planned to get an early start. Some big swells had come in around 2 am, turning our calm bay into a stewpot, then the roosters in Deshaies made sure we were up and at ‘em by starting their screeching at 4*&%(#:30 am...and then something THUDDED into the boat around 5....sleep was not an included option apparently on this vacation package...so we were on the road, or the high seas, as it were, at 6am. It was a long trip and despite the pink pill, I spent a good portion of it prone in the cockpit. It was a gorgeous day, and I did manage to wolf down a plate of scrambled eggs that stayed with me!!

At one point, the dinghy decided it wanted to stay in french territory, and some how untied its own rope, or "painter," so we had to turn around and fetch it. Shortly thereafter, dad's hat decided it was time for a dip and flew off his head....it had barely touched the water when three dolphins jumped up and grabbed it...needless to say, we let the hat stay in the water.....

We arrived at English Harbour, on the south side of Antigua around 2pm. Carol checked her and daddy into the country...I was left to fend for myself, wandering around the dockyards, arranging a cab to take me to the airport the next day, and almost having a heart attack when I saw that the boat was a good 200 yards from where we had left it. No, they weren’t leaving me…apparently, we had been in a channel and dad had just gone out to move it. So then we sat in a tiki bar with some fine pina coladas. We got all decked out for dinner and ate at the Admiral's Inn - a real tasty snapper, pumpkin soup and some bread, which was NOT french...sigh...I was definitely tired and cranky from the lack of sleep, plus I was itchy from the humidity, not to mention sunburned, but even so, I was not at all anxious to be going home the next day.

Tuesday April 8^th
Time to go home...Dad dinghied me over to the dock, and the cab was there as planned at 7am. I hated to say good bye to carol and daddy.....I would have liked to have actually learned a little bit more about the mechanics of sailing, and my tan was just starting to look more like a tan and less like a burn! The cab driver treated me to an island tour - apparently all roads lead to the airport, but none are in a straight line from English Harbour. I will say there are lots of wealthy banks with well manicured lawns, in Antigua, and a few places i wouldn't mind retiring too...just gotta find me a sugar daddy!

I had some 'splaining to do at customs when it was discovered that I had never really "entered" Antigua...or left Guadaloupe for that matter...but it was cleared up - guess I have an innocent face - bwahhahahahahahhaaaa, and I was en route to San Juan at 930am. Since I hadn't checked any bags, I got an earlier flight to Dallas, and an earlier one back home to Tucson....and was all unpacked, doing laundry before the news came on to tell me about the stuff I had not missed while I was gone...It was GLORIOUS not having television or newspapers to tell me what to think for an entire 7 days!

....and that was the end of a wonderful, unforgetable week in the Caribbean.....3 days later, I was skiing at 11,000 feet.....but that's another story....