Enn at the wheel as we cross to Les Saintes. We were too far from our provider to get an Internet signal, so the next morning WW and I carried our computers with us when we went ashore. The Eager Crew wandered the picturesque main street and informed themselves about ferries to Pointe-a-Pitre while we communed with electrons.
Then it was off up the hill to Fort Napoleon. I've described it before, and it remains marvelous. I was a bit disappointed to find one of my favourite exhibits in the little museum had gone missing. It was an English print presumably produced sometime around 1782, when Sir George Rodney and his fleet captured or destroyed a French fleet of roughly equal numbers. The print showed the gleeful Brits clobbering their cringing foes (I am sure they didn't actually cringe, just nasty gloating by the winners) . At its bottom was a bit of scurrilous doggerel, not kind to the enemy. But funny. I think someone must have told the museum's bosses what it said. It is no longer there.
We descended into Bourg for lunch but, sadly, the French have fixed notions on the correct times for eating and shopping. The siesta is alive and well and living in the French West Indies and we were looking for food at, sacre bleu, quarter to two. It seemed everything was closed until we finally found a small place where very good sandwiches were to be had and I had accras--salt cod fritters...I am an addict.
The anchorage was, in addition to too far from the Internet provider, rather rolly. We'd experienced this in the past, so we upped anchor and moved into the lee of Ilet a Cabrit where we suffered almost no motion and the holding is very good.
Next day, we explored. The Ilet is essentially uninhabited. A potter/fisherman has a small place there. He makes little wall-hanging planters in the shape of whimsical faces. A sign tells you to leave 5 euros if you would like to take one away. Also on the island are an army of goats, some cats, and Fort Josephine, gazing longingly across the straits to Fort Napoleon on the far side.
Fort Josephine is crumbling but beautiful, up at the top of the westernmost part of the small island. We wandered the ruins for some time and enjoyed the antics of some extremely new kids.
Some locals visiting the Fort Josephine ruins.
Fort Napoleon seen from Fort Josephine.
Back on Django and with heavy hearts, we returned to the Bourg anchorage to see off our Eager Crew. They were going to Pointe-a-Pitre and thence to Dominica. At least, that was the plan. The first part went off fine, but their subsequent adventures were less successful.
We decided to go back up to Deshaies, leaving bright and early the next morning. Well, early. It wasn't bright. It was pouring. And first we needed to get water. The water at Bourg is supplied through a very long hose that runs from shore out into the harbour. It's location is marked by a large EAU buoy. With WW at the wheel, I took up my spot on the trampoline. Before I'd got the bridle in, I was soaked to the skin. We motored the short distance to the buoy and I picked it up and got the hose aboard. It continued to rain heavily. WW tried to raise the chap to turn on the water on our radio. No reply. In the end, he had to take Boffo in and gesticulate. Apparently our radio isn't broadcasting, only receiving. It's on the list.
Once we'd filled our tanks, we set course for Deshaies. About midway across the channel between Guadeloupe and Les Saintes, and demonic squall hit us. The wind was blowing 25 knots with gusts over 30. Seas were, thankfully, not to dreadful. The rain was like a wall. Visibility was to the bow. WW had be go below and take regular notes of our course and position in case it all went pear-shaped and we had to radio for assistance. He closed the lower have of the door in the salon companionway and I peered out at him in his foul-weather gear as he peered ahead at the murk.
Very very wet.
The squall lasted probably half and hour and then, as these things do, it just...went away. The rest of the run up to Deshaies was uneventful. The following morning we fled up to Antigua as the weather for the next several days was promising to lock us into Deshaies if we didn't.
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