Hard at work snorkeling.
We have arrived on the lovely island of Martinique, a sailor’s paradise. It seems they basically run amuck here - coming and going as they please and anchoring where they will. We reached Le Marin, a town on the south part of the island, by navigating through a narrow channel which opened up into a huge harbour brimming with boats as far as the eye could see. There were literally hundreds of sailboats, catamarans, and powerboats (Adam insists on breaking them down into at least these three categories) moored and anchored everywhere. We went ashore byway of a large dinghy dock that we tied up to without getting permission, keys, or giving payment. We were surprised to find we had free access to the dock, to the street, and to garbage cans along the roadside. And in an exciting twist they recycle here so Adam’s can sinking days are over! Checking into the country was a breeze once we were able to locate the marina office – a far more complicated task than seems right. We filled in a form on a computer, printed it out, and paid five euros to the front desk person. No one checked our passports, no one asked for ships papers, I just handed over the money and we were in. If you are looking to get into the smuggling business apparently Martinique is the place to do it.
After two days of being buzzed by dinghies at all hours we decided to leave the hustle and bustle of the busy harbour for quieter pastures. First we headed to St. Anne where we anchored in an area that Adam excitedly christened “Canadian Corner” as there were three other boats flying the maple leaf. Despite his best efforts no one spoke to us, although Adam is convinced that one of the men waved when his wife wasn’t looking. We decided that seeing a fellow Canadian in Martinique doesn’t inspire as much camaraderie as it does in the Azores or the Cape Verdes and so we tried not to take it too personally and decided to play it cool. We stayed one night before starting the slog north along the east coast a.k.a. the wild west of Martinique.
The guide books all said that the east coast would be empty but we assumed that someone else would be here. Everyone reads the same books but apparently we are the only ones who value great anchorages that aren’t over crowded. It is certainly harder to sail up the east coast but we weren’t prepared for how few people we would see. We hopped around from place to place and only shared one anchorage with another boat. We anchored in and around coral reefs in warm, shallow water filled with giant starfish, and only ever saw kayakers and little wooden tour boats. It seems that without knowing it we have become trailblazers, going where few cruisers dare. We are starting to feel like pioneers – well, pioneers mainly concerned with remembering to re-apply sunscreen and whose turn it is to mix the rum punch.
After two days of being buzzed by dinghies at all hours we decided to leave the hustle and bustle of the busy harbour for quieter pastures. First we headed to St. Anne where we anchored in an area that Adam excitedly christened “Canadian Corner” as there were three other boats flying the maple leaf. Despite his best efforts no one spoke to us, although Adam is convinced that one of the men waved when his wife wasn’t looking. We decided that seeing a fellow Canadian in Martinique doesn’t inspire as much camaraderie as it does in the Azores or the Cape Verdes and so we tried not to take it too personally and decided to play it cool. We stayed one night before starting the slog north along the east coast a.k.a. the wild west of Martinique.
The guide books all said that the east coast would be empty but we assumed that someone else would be here. Everyone reads the same books but apparently we are the only ones who value great anchorages that aren’t over crowded. It is certainly harder to sail up the east coast but we weren’t prepared for how few people we would see. We hopped around from place to place and only shared one anchorage with another boat. We anchored in and around coral reefs in warm, shallow water filled with giant starfish, and only ever saw kayakers and little wooden tour boats. It seems that without knowing it we have become trailblazers, going where few cruisers dare. We are starting to feel like pioneers – well, pioneers mainly concerned with remembering to re-apply sunscreen and whose turn it is to mix the rum punch.