Leaving St Maarten.. On to pastures new

[Maryanne]I just wanted to comment, especially for those Gemini owners out there, that we managed to meet up with two separate Gemini boats and their owners here in St Maarten. This was great from both a social perspective, and also to share tips and ideas for Footprint modifications and potential future repairs. Having a boat model that is so popular sure makes cruising all the sweeter when you arrive in a foreign port and find a sister ship. In St Maarten, we met up with Fergus and Penny from "Tailwinds And Sunsets", and Chris and Christine from Gypsy Cat. We have been lucky enough to meet up with Gemini owners on our NE USA cruise too, and we are so grateful for such a friendly lot - thanks all!

[Kyle]After a long flight in a middle seat from work, I got to St Maarten and did what I always do when you leave a country - cleared in (me) at the airport and walked to marine customs to clear out (me, Maryanne, and Footprint)!

Maryanne and I still had some preparation to do for the passage, so rather than rush things, we decided to leave the following day, in the evening for an overnight passage to Virgin Gorda in the British Virgin Islands (BVI). I intended to sleep/nap as much as possible during the day, before we left, but the excitement and anxiousness about the departure kept me awake.

We pottered around as much as we could, tidying this and that, and eventually gave up and left for the fuel dock early to top up our fuel and water tanks. The Gemini is hard to fuel without overflowing the tanks, so we tend to calculate the expected fuel and Maryanne reads the pump output while I pump (or visa-versa). About halfway through the first tank, Maryanne reported that we were at 144L - we knew this could not be right as the tank only holds around 60L. I managed to avoid overfilling the tank by pumping slowly and paying close attention. By the time I started the 2nd tank, the attendant had reset the gauge in mid-fueling, so now we had no idea how much we'd pumped in. After fuel and water was topped up, Maryanne went to pay and I tidied up; she returned studying the bill and confused, it did not appear correct - we made some calculations and returned to the attendant to verify the numbers. If the reading was correct we had arrived with empty tanks (but by our calculations expected both tanks were over half full - more like 2/3rds full when we arrived). We returned to the boat and scratched our heads. The boat behind us was also questioning his fuel - he had been charged for more than his tanks can hold! I returned to the attendant convinced that I was now right - we too had been overcharged. It was not possible for us to have taken on that much fuel, unless others had been siphoning from our tank. He asked how much I thought I should have taken, and then with no further fight whatsoever, calculated the difference and handed me a $20 bill. One for the man! This (added to FKG - who have since requested another mystery $250) ensured that I would not be missing St Maarten!

As Darren (my brother) would say, that's a lot of words... Are you still with me?

One of the main reasons I was so anxious about our departure was the weather. The forecast was for NE winds of around 25kt. This was not technically unfavorable - the wind would give us a beam reach, but with large waves/swell from the N too, we knew it would be a rough slog. We could have waited, but we've managed these conditions before, we knew we and the boat would handle it, although we also knew it would be unpleasant sailing - it still seemed better than waiting in St Maarten for 2 more weeks.

We exited the Lagoon with the 5:30pm French bridge opening just before sunset and beat hard in the wind in the lee of Anguilla to gain as much the Northerly distance as possible and give us a better angle for the subsequent westbound sailing. Once clear of Anguilla, we turned across the wind. The weather was at least as bad as forecast. We saw sustained apparent winds in the mid 20's with gusts in low 30's, but were prepared with double reefed everything. The seas eventually reached 10-15 feet. The going was rough with the boat and contents being thrown around a lot, but we were making good speed, often at 9kt. I went off watch first (finally giving way to seasickness as Maryanne took over), but found it difficult to sleep with all the pounding for the remainder of the night until sunrise. Maryanne slept soundly on her off watch, but was also seasick once she'd taken over for an hour!

Miserable passage where AGAIN we should have used the enclosure.. I think Kyle has finally learned the lesson, he even declined my offer to take some of his watch (he was exhausted) and let him sleep for an extra hour since he was already wet - bless him
Before long, the sun rose, and the boat roared up past the north side of Virgin Gorda, I was exhausted and so ready for the passage to be over. We turned downwind to sail down the western side of the island, and this improved things dramatically (such a difference). Eventually, (after 2 failed attempts) we found good holding in the rolly anchorage of Spanish Town. We were both worn out from the short passage, that rather than clear in immediately, we just secured the boat and went to bed for a couple of hours of blissful sleep.

We were still groggy and unmotivated when we awoke later, but knew we needed to clear in - so we forced ourselves out of bed and prepared for the trip ashore.

Our passage was nothing compared with this boat - SV Wasabi - Jeez!
Spanish Town View

Fortunately, the customs folks were very friendly and helpful; and after the short clearing in process we took a stroll around the small Spanish Town to gain our bearings. Spanish town is mostly a ferry dock, a marina, and a few streets of homes and the basics - very small. At the marina, we saw a boat with a broken mast, (SV Wasabi) and we had to feel for the guy. Maryanne remembered a note about a place called The Rock Cafe, worth walking to just south of town, so we headed in that direction. We found the Cafe, and although too early for dinner, we were made welcome to take a look around; It looked impressive from the outside, a huge stone built structure with a rooftop restaurant area. Once we entered, we realized it extended into gardens at the back. The gardens are a beautiful setting with stairways leading to secluded decks nestled within huge boulders - very stunning. The proprietor was very nice and we decided to have a couple of drinks before leaving - for $20!!!!! (Gulp!). No, thank you very much, we won't be eating dinner here, but you do have a very beautiful restaurant! If you are not on a budget, (or if you just want to treat yourself) a visit to The Rock Cafe is worth it for the setting alone


Rock Cafe and Piano Bar, where Kyle gets to meet Obama Face to cardboard Face... Those in the know will recognize the pose
Still not fully recovered from the passage, we called for an early night, and headed back to the boat and Maryanne's delicious (especially for the price) cooking.

St Maarten - Serious Fun!

[Maryanne]At last, I've time to relax and explore. I'd delayed really doing much, hoping Kyle would be able to join me, but his schedule hasn't worked out too well, so off I go on my own!

As part of a grocery trip, I cycled from the Dutch side to the French side. I crossed the border (no border control), and found a Rastafarian veggie farm; I also stocked up with inexpensive, but reasonable, French wine (well, as much as I could carry in the backpack on my bicycle).

French/Dutch Border marker in St Martin
Before I could go out sightseeing proper though, I'd volunteered to help with the Heineken Regatta this week (their catch phrase this year is "Serious Fun" - hence the blog title). This volunteer opportunity (for me) entailed helping cut some DVDs for the press one evening (while being filmed for a "behind the scenes" thing they are planning to put together on the web), and serving breakfast two days of the regatta (starting at 6am!!). In exchange for this, I got two free t-shirts and a really cool heavy duty dry-bag (things inside stay dry if the bag is dropped in the water! - perfect for me), and best of all I got to meet with some really interesting people.

Helping out at the Heineken Regatta, Maryanne with Perin, a kindred spirit who was kind enough to entertain Maryanne even after our obligations at the Regatta
First stop on my sightseeing tour (after serving breakfast on Thursday) was Philipsburg, the capital of Dutch St Maarten. I took the bus, and the ride from Simpson Bay to Philipsburg is really nice, with hills and great views en route!

I'd not been especially looking forward to Philipsburg. It is where all the cruise ships stop over in St Martin, full of casinos and jewelry stores and other duty free shopping. My (Lonely planet) guide book says very little about the capital except "There are some older buildings, but overall the town is far more commercial than quaint.", so it was quite low on my enjoyment expectation. However, when am I next going to be here? I figured I should make the effort and go, and I'm so glad I did.

Now let me remind you that Simpson bay around the lagoon is really tatty, and dusty, and not really a pleasant place to walk around at all (bad traffic and no where safe to walk), so I guess Philipsburg would be hard pressed to let me down compared to the lagoon area.

The capital is basically made up of 3 streets running parallel to the beach with narrow streets and alley ways linking them all. There is also a boardwalk along the beach. At the "back" of the city there is a lagoon, so the beach and the lagoon together keep Philipsburg long and skinny). All the streets have nice wide sidewalks/pavements, and of course the boardwalk is pedestrian only. I started at one end of the boardwalk. Immediately, was asked if I wanted my hair braided.. Oh, no, here we go I thought; I declined, but smiled, and I ended up chatting for 20 minutes with the lady (Emily) who was offering to braid my hair. Emily was from Dominica (which I've been pronouncing incorrectly, confusing it with the Dominican Replublic - it should be pronounced dom-ah-NEE-ka). She was great fun to hang out with, gave me some tips on where to get an inexpensive lunch, and shared with me that they are really noticing the decline in tourists and reduction in spending generally; we also shared a long and hilarious conversation on men, and sex, I had a great time and lots of laughter.


Scenes from Philipsburg, St Maarten
Eventually, I moved along the boardwalk. Tucked way in the shade, I found an artist using charcoals to sketch from pictures. He tried to sell me a portrait of myself (I declined, where on earth would I hang it?), but I hung out and chatted to him (Kelly) for about 45 minutes - again really interesting, shooting the breeze and learning about the various mediums he works with (and nudging me to get back to my drawing, after the classes I took before leaving to head out cruising!). I left when Kelly's appointment for a pastel drawing arrived, and my next stop was the Museum.


Kelly Sketches (among other things) for his living, on Philipsburg Boardwalk
At this time I'm still wearing my Heineken Regatta volunteer shirt, and I'm being stopped regularly by people that recognize it who are also volunteering or have done in the past (even the bus driver wanted to know where he could get a shirt like mine!)

I was amazed to find the museum free to enter. It's small but packed with artifacts, and lots of things I'd not seen in other museums (musical instruments, books laying out that you can flick through on all manner of historic topics associated with the islands, and even comfy chairs to sit in while your reading). It is a cozy museum, and I enjoyed it. As I left, the curator stopped me and asked if I'd sign the guest book (of course) and then also noticed my t-shirt, so we ended up having quite a good chat about the museum. The curator (who had herself established the museum) was preparing for a meeting with the country's Governor the following day to talk about the museum (at the governor's request); now  that I think about it, maybe she said the Prime Minister (lousy memory, grrr). Either way, it was a big deal, and I wish the museum good fortune.

I basically ambled the streets of Philpsburg. I did get to try a free tasting of he local alcoholic offerings - several Guavaberry Liqueurs, and separately Rum Jumbie Liqueur; both were much tastier than I was expecting. There were plenty of street stalls selling tourist tat and beach ware; much of it surprisingly inexpensive. All the vendors were friendly and I had a great time wandering around and chatting with those trying to sell me stuff (the banter was friendly rather then pressure-sell). I resisted purchasing anything until later in the day when I found 3 hats for $10, and later still 5 skirts, a dress and a blouse for $30 - all good for the boat and beach. Naturally I avoided all the designer stores, intended for the cruise ship duty free shopper crowd. I did a bunch of other stuff too, including eat, but mostly I just ambled around and enjoyed myself thoroughly.



Philipsburg Pond/Lagoon
Finally leaving central Philipsburg, I wandered back to the lagoon. It is stunningly beautiful with mountains in the background, with egrets and other water birds all over; Beautiful, that is, as long as you don't actually look in the water and notice the slime and all the trash, drinks bottles, etc - it's amazing the birds seem to be so happy there.

Right on the edge of Philipsburg, I could not leave without visiting the Air Lekkerbek Bar And Restaurant, it really stands out as it utilizes the fuselage of an old WinAir NAMC YS-11 as a restaurant, and you can walk through the plane to the larger bar area... I couldn't resist partaking in a Heienken (to cool me down - of course).

Air Lekkerbek Bar and Restaurant

Leaving Philipsburg, I took a bus (past those lovely hills and great views again) past Simpson Bay lagoon (where the dingy and Footprint were waiting) and on to Maho Bay. Why? to visit yet another bar and major tourist attraction - Sunset Beach bar and grill. It's famous for 2 things (well, famous for one, and infamous for another)

• It is on the beach which is right on one end of the SXM runway; planes taking off and landing have a big impact on the beach and anyone who happens to be on it! They have a surf board converted to chalk board that lists the plane arrival/departure times and they have speakers throughout the bar where you can hear the air traffic control channels and listen to the pilots etc - all this helps make sure you won't miss a take off or landing. The planes landing can come really low, and very close the the beach, the bigger the plane, the longer the runway they need and they won't waste the start of the runway - so they just graze over the beach before they land.... It looks as though you can touch some of the planes as they fly over. They have two types of visitors interested in the proximity of the runway
  
  • Those taking pictures/movies
  • Those that run out to the beach and like to get caught in the sand storm, or even blown over by the strong jet blasts
• Topless women at the bar get all drinks free

As you can imagine it's a very popular bar.

Sunset Bar and Grill - sign on surfboard confirms "Topless women at bar drink for free" - and beside the airport, the large signs read "Danger - Jet blast of departing and arriving aircraft can cause severe physical harm resulting in serious injury and/or death" Can't say you weren't warned!


Effects of a jet taking off and "revving up" at the end of the runway - notice the sand flying around and the poor guy rolling down the beach!

Normally, when I go sightseeing, I've researched in advance and have a long list of things to see/do and a preliminary schedule before I even arrive at the place. Philipsburg has so little to do on the traditional tourist/cultural front that I was forced to amble around, and had most of the day as time to fill. This enabled me to hang out and chat whenever the mood took me. I've generally found locals hard to get into a conversation with in the Caribbean, this certainly was not the case in Philipsburg, and I suspect that is as much to do with my attitude as theirs. I'm so glad I went.

Back to Work - AntiFouling Paint and more

Kyle dressed to kill, well, paint anyway!
[Kyle]I had almost a week off work on my next trip home but I knew it wasn’t going to be any fun – we needed the bottom painted and we’d planned to be hauled out. Haul outs are all of the work and zero of the fun of boating – zero. Boat yards are hot, noisy, dusty, grubby places to do anything. We planned to make the most of being hauled out and had a host of other jobs to be done that are WAY more convenient to do out of the water – a busy schedule. We had been recommended Bobby’s Marina in the lagoon by several people and this is where we booked our slot.

I’ll spare the details, but life once we were hauled out was a miserable existence; we wake up at first light, work hard all day long (until it’s too dark to continue), and then, stiff and sore from the day, limp over to a cold shower where the grime runs off us in streams. It's impossible not to track mud from the yard everywhere. Aboard, all of the cupboards and storage areas are open with tools and parts spread everywhere. Most of the time there is not even a flat spot big enough to sit (no problem, turn around, go outside and keep on working).


Footprint, showing the world her beautiful new bottom
Gradually, slow step by step, by the end of the 3rd day of the haul out, Footprint hung suspended in the slings, all freshly painted and shiny, clean and tidy inside and ready to go in the water. We got done just in time to limp our aching bodies to the St Maarten regular wednesday night Cruisers Sundowner (a social get together for fellow cruisers). The next morning we were scheduled to go in first thing (which around here is first light). We actually splashed down just after 7am, and then we went to pay the bill – ah the moment of truth. This is where things always go terribly wrong for us. This time we had a pleasant surprise. The bill was too low! Now, if you are ever trying to sell a car, I’m the guy you want to buy it from you because I have a certain negotiating technique which goes like this: “Really – are you sure that’s all you want for your car?” “It seems so nice, don’t you want more?”. Maryanne noticed that the bill omitted labour and supplies for repairing yet more voids in our hull (surely we are done now?). Eventually, even after all my complaining, the bill was not even close to the traditional 4 digits, we did all we could and had to leave anyway.

The thing that really freaked me out though was not the bill, but the staff. Typically, boat owners are treated as nuisances rather than customers (a-la FKG), but in this case, the exact opposite was true. I commented to Maryanne that this was the first time I’d got to the end of a haul out and didn’t want to strangle the yard manager. They even said we were super relaxed people (rather than the usual send off – "Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!"). The boat is in good shape, we didn’t get ripped off, ready for further adventures.

[Maryanne]We arrived at our haul out well prepared. We’d confirmed the rate and agreed the work we’d do ourselves (we were unusually allowed to paint the bottom since the yard was already busy – but normally this would not be the case; policy is all work below the water line must be done by the yard). I’m allergic to bottom paint, so Kyle gets that duty, but I was still busy with waxing the hull, and a host of other jobs on our extensive list. Bobby’s marina is a typical boat yard – dirty and a bit derelict in appearance, but it has a great reputation for excellent shoring of boats, and all our dealings had been friendly with plenty of smiles from the managers and other yard staff. Managers Yvonne (in the office) and Lance (in the yard) were both really helpful and a pleasure to be around, they kept us informed and were happy to help with any questions we had. The one guy that did work on our voids was polite and friendly, let us know when he was done, etc - all the things that make the yard life as easy as possible. AND they had wifi – perfect, and the price was right.

So unlike FKG Rigging (which we hope to never see again), we absolutely recommend Bobby's Boat Yard in the Lagoon (Airport Branch), and did I mention they had WiFi?. (They do have a lot of dogs roaming around, so be warned if that's not your cup of tea).

Footprint with her rigging all back to Bristol, and her bottom hopefully free of marine life for at least the next year, is ready for he next challenge... And next time Kyle comes home we WILL NOT be working on the boat, we'll actually get to go sailing again. Yay!

Back to work.. Unstepping the Mast

[Kyle]I spent another week in the frozen northeast USA (at work) and was relieved to come home to St Maarten for a day, even though I knew that it was to have work done on the boat. We had made arrangements with FKG Rigging to do the remaining work on the mast and rigging after our little Atlantic incident. Maryanne (in her way), as soon as we’d arrived in St Martin, visited FKG and followed up with a detailed email explaining the work required, part numbers and everything. We needed the mast unstepped (removed) so we had to be at the dock with access to a crane.

We’d arranged for the work so far in advance as this seemed the best use of a single day at home for me; I would not be able to do much else with a single day and this way I could prep/watch/learn/help with the process. FKG assured Maryanne (dismissively) that it would be a day job, and they’d reserve the crane so it would be ready. As often happens with boat yards (I recall Portsmouth Boating Center!), we’ve had many instances in which we’ve shown up for work at an agreed time and were told they were busy that day, try again later! With this in mind, Maryanne sent a confirmation email (not-acknowledged), and visited them the week and the day before the agreed work. All to ensure no problems on the day.

We arrived on the dock just before they opened for the day, giving us time to remove the boom and slacken off the stays that hold up the mast (we did as much work as we could ourselves to save time and $$s). Eventually the main guy came to see us and said – “No rush, the crane won’t be here until 1:30pm”. Maryanne asked if they’d seen the list and is there anything else they need to know (she was waved off, “yeah, I just read it all, I’m up to speed”). This made it definitely tight to do all the work in the time available. So, stuck at the dock in wait mode, we checked out some local stores and purchased paint (for the following week's jobs) and a nifty new cockpit table.


First Meal at our new fold up table (with our French Wine!) - Perfect for the cockpit
The crane did arrive after lunch, and our fist real sign that the job would now take more than a day, was the fact that the crane left right after they’d removed the mast (not day rental after all, but hourly rental we assume?). Immediately, this changed the job to a two day job (AND they are charging us dockage by the day!). Worse, it would mean that, yet again, Maryanne would have to manage the work (and get the boat back to the anchorage) while I returned to work. Once the mast was down, I spent much of the afternoon trying to pre-do as much as I could of the work required on the mast (again to speed things up and keep the bill down). At this point, we realized that the new tang (the part that links the mast to the forestay, which stops the mast from falling backwards) was completely different from the old one (was this wrong? Or have they deliberately changed this? – either way it no longer fit in the hole). We pointed this out to our assigned rigger, but he did not seem overly concerned, he said he may have the correct part, or would be able to fabricate it, he’d make something work, not to worry!

Over the course of the afternoon, my treatment from the staff moved from grudging acceptance to rude “get the message - leave me alone” grunts.

Once they’d closed for the day with our mast now locked behind a chain linked fence, we decided to take advantage of Lagoonies bar – just staggering distance from our dock. As luck would have it, Tuesday was “happy day” $1 beers all evening. We met a really nice couple visiting from Boston who’d been to many of the same places we had. It was a pleasant evening enjoying good company. Just as I was thinking “enough”, we were bought a round, and this went on for far too long, far beyond my limit I suffered. The real cap to the evening came after we returned to the boat and collapsed into bed. The mega-yacht beside us (which must remain air conditioned at all times, just in case the owner shows up) ran its generator all night long (it is generally considered impolite to use a generator at a dock, where mains electricity is available to provide the same role much more quietly, and cleanly). We were lucky enough to receive the generator exhaust directly in our bedroom hatch (and later discovered black persistent soot marks all over the water/splash line of our boat). The combination of the alcohol and the exhaust gave me a splitting headache in the morning, which did not make me happy about the 2 mile walk to the airport.

I was still home on the boat when FKG opened. We found them even less friendly. We felt like a definite nuisance and did not feel welcome. By the time I set off for work around Mid-day, it seemed apparent that we would still not have the mast re-stepped that day; I left Maryanne to manage alone.

[Maryanne]Once Kyle left for work, I decided to make the most of being at a dock with ready access to fresh water and set to scrubbing the decks and cleaning up our boat. I did the whole boat, with the back steps the last to be cleaned. I stepped down to the 4th step to enable me to clean the upper steps without bending, the only problem is we only have 3 steps – SPLASH! I took a swim. Nobody noticed, I climbed out, back aboard Footprint, and figured I’d finish off the cleaning and then get myself some fresh clothes and a shower. At this point, our rigger arrived to tell us that there was a problem with our foil (metal sleeve that fits over the forestay wire. It has a groove to accept the fore sail and a roller furler drum at the bottom that allows the sail to roll up / wrap around the sail), it was not put together correctly and was all messed up (he was convinced from original build) and needed some extra parts (which, luckily he had) – much of the repairs we’d scheduled were most likely a result of this build error and not our incident at sea, he explained. I was frustrated, but at least relieved there would be no delay in waiting for more parts. At this point, I made an effort to contact Selden (Makers of the roller furler and foil) and PCI (manufacturers of the boat) to try and understand the tang issue and now the new furler issue. What did we need to do? Was there really a problem? Of course by then it was late, FKG closed and I didn’t expect answers from my emails to Selden and PCI that day either.

While walking along the dock later, I managed to trip over some rigging that had been left stretched across the path (about 3” above the ground) – I managed an impressive dive, landing first on my knees, then my hands, and then my face – Ouch! Witnesses this time, but as is the way, I was more embarrassed than wanting to share my injuries.

It was a pretty depressing evening for me, but that evening I did get an email back from Selden, explaining the tang was a factory approved replacement for our old tang (so it was correct, and we should go ahead and install it), and explaining some (undocumented) difference in the build of the furler specifically for PCI (so maybe it was built correctly??). The next morning (now our 3rd day at the dock) I printed and took the email to our rigger. He looked at it, dismissed it and told me he was doing things the right way. I felt terribly conflicted? Work was going ahead on our furler and I wasn’t sure if it was correct work, nor if it could be undone if it wasn’t. I could not get an internet signal good enough for a phone call, I didn’t know where to turn for help and advice. About this time Kyle called me, he had a short break between flights and he agreed to call PCI and get better details of the special PCI difference. He spoke with the guy who assembles the roller furlers at PCI (he was extra friendly and helpful) and Kyle was assured that the “special PCI difference” was just an internal core extension down into the drum to stop any rattling. It would not affect safety or performance at all – apart from that minor modification, the Selden handbook build was correct. We decided to leave the rigger to do his thing and put up with any rattle we may be left with.

Later that day, the mast was ready to be returned to the boat. The crane arrived and a host of riggers descended on Footprint. I popped out to offer help (ignored), and offered the lead guy the rigging tension chart for the boat – he waved me away; he did not want to see it. I hoped that meant he knew what he was doing. I watched the work while feeling very unwanted on my own boat, and noticed them not placing the back stays correctly – I intercepted and managed to get them to route it properly (while taking a rash of sh*t, since the guy was sat on the step and getting a wet arse while he corrected the problem). Eventually, the work was done (nobody told me that, they just disappeared and left me to surmise it – with a nice dirty deck now!). I sought out the bill and asked for help to walk my boat away from the crane. Eventually I got the bill – GULP!!!! We had deliberately delayed this final work until we reached St Maarten under the expectation it would be cheaper; that certainly was not the case! It was my fault for not getting a quote from the start. What I did know is that we’d spent 3 days at the dock for work that should have taken a day, and it could have been done in a day if they had only ordered the crane for first thing (as initially agreed) – I asked them to remove one day’s dockage from the bill – they refused “non-negotiable”) – for an $1700+ bill, they wanted to quibble over $20. I did not leave in any way a fan of FKG. I still had to reconnect all the electrics, and the boom.

[Kyle]I arrived home, of course irritated at FKG for both their attitude and their price. The first job was to check over the rig, and specifically the tensioning (Maryanne had warned me it seemed very tight). To their credit, the mast was very straight (no bends or S-turns). However, it was leaning slightly to one side and so tight I’m surprised it didn’t crush the cabin top. It was so tight that they had bottomed out the screws on the check stays (they could not have got it tighter if they tried). I spent the rest of the day loosening and correctly tensioning the rigging to specification – fuming at FKG even more. Now the mast is straight, pointed upright and tensioned correctly – no thanks to FKG.

Jumping ahead a few days later, we were at the cruisers sun-downer and mentioned we’d had work done at FKG; we got a knowing look of sympathy from everyone. We even met with one guy that once worked there who said their poor treatment of cruisers has been a real problem for a while and while he felt for us. He said the treatment we received and the price we paid was not at all unusual for FKG. He explained they favor mega-yachts (with mega-budgets) whose captains want it fixed before the owner arrives, no matter the cost. Cruisers like us who remove all the rigging tape and split pins to save an hour of shop labor are not their core business, and they don’t care. This seems to be policy more and more in the boat world, small spenders are an irritant, not worthy of their service/effort. I wonder if this will change with the poor economy? Lesson learned!

[Maryanne]Just in case you didn't get our very subtle message, we DO NOT recommend FKG.

Marigot and Grumpy Customs/Immigration

Marigot Bay & Fort Louis Marina with its spoke docks
[Kyle]From Grand Case, our next stop was the French side of the Simpson Bay lagoon. We got an early start so as to be ready for the 0830 bridge opening. It took is several tries to get the anchor to hold in the loose shells of that side of the bay, but since we were in only about 2½ feet of water, it was easy enough for me to wade out and make sure it was really set. From there, we rowed ashore to the town of Marigot, the Capital of the French St Martin. From the dinghy dock into the town the street was very busy with lots of traffic throwing up dust just like the Dutch side. There was nowhere sensible to walk, so we were constantly alternating between gaps in the traffic and bushes or puddles off to the side. Traffic was way too close and fast and chaotic for my comfort. I felt like we were trying to cross a freeway at rush hour.

Then it started to rain - hard - and it didn’t stop - like Seattle in the winter. For the next week it was all anybody talked about, that time it rained practically all day without stopping. People kept saying things like it was the most non-hurricane rain they could remember. It certainly didn’t make our traffic situation seem any safer.

Eventually, we made it into a quieter part of town and came out of the rain to have a nice lunch at a café under an awning. I don’t know what it is with these French territories, but they really do make noticeably better bread here.

Afterward, we decided to clear out of the French side, which we can do 24 hours in advance. We walked over to the customs office in Marigot. There was no waiting area of any kind, just a sign on a locked door that said knock hard then wait. We did that, and after a few minutes, a very annoyed looking woman opened the door.
“What do you want!?” she barked
“Yes, um, hi. We wanted to clear out please.”
“There’s already people in here. Wait!” she snapped and then shot a look at the sign, implying that we were idiots for not knowing that it really means wait, then knock hard, then wait.

Whatever.

After a while, a big guy who looked like he would kill us if it wouldn’t get him fired came out.
“What do you want!?”
“Yes, um, hi. We wanted to clear out please.”
“I didn’t clear you in!”
“Yes, we cleared in at the Radisson Marina.”
His eye twitched. “You didn’t clear in here!”
Uh, oh. “We understood we could clear in at the Radisson.”

With that, he scowled and held the door and waved us in in the manner of a police officer holding the door as he’s putting someone in a cell. He gestured at a chair in front of a computer and told me to fill out the online form. He kept asking if I knew where my boat was and then arguing with me that I was wrong. Maryanne finally convinced him that we were actually in the lagoon by telling him we went through the 0830 bridge. Anchoring in Marigot Bay has fees and I think he thought we were trying to get away with something. Eventually, he printed the form, said “You’re done.” and showed us the door. [Maryanne]Kyle had to return later in search of a lost baseball cap, and be very nice to the same guy... Luckily he did find his hat, but not at the Port Authority office.

[Kyle]We decided to walk off our disappointment with a climb to the fort overlooking the harbor, which had some nice views of the bay and the town. It was still raining pretty hard, so we took shelter in the nearby Arawak Museum, where we spent a couple of hours enjoying the very good exhibits about the history and geology of the island.


Fort Louis, Marigot, St Martin
We slogged back through town to the supermarket by the dinghy dock to stock up on some nice French provisions for a cozy dinner at home. I got stuck at the wine section. I had this idea that we should buy a nice French wine, but the selection was overwhelming, so my poor brain went into gridlock. Eventually, some nice Frenchman must have noticed the short circuited look on both of our faces and recommended a Corbières (described online as a cheap, uncomplicated red.) I’d never had a Corbières, but he seemed nice, and it was inexpensive, so we bought two bottles. It turned out to be very nice, very friendly on the palate. Well done, anonymous Frenchman!

The next morning, we returned to the Dutch side, cleared in and found an anchorage that’s convenient to almost everything (except wireless signals!), especially a nice patisserie that lets us tie up the dinghy there.

[Maryanne]Anyone that knows us will also know that Kyle and I are not the least bit religious, but we did find ourselves in Nevis on a quest to find the famous black Jesus crucifix (we failed, the church was locked up)... In one of the many rain showers we took shelter in a church in Marigot, only to find us a black Jesus painting.... Interesting world isn't it?


Marigot is small (given it's the capital) but there were lots of great restaurants, and sights... We enjoyed our exploring, but took very few pictures due to the frequent torrential rain showers - so you'll just have to take our word for it.. :-)

Grand Case - French St Martin - Yummy!

[Kyle]In spite of the beauty of the mountains and the beaches around Grand Case, The only thing any of our guidebooks mention to do is go out to eat at one of the many fine restaurants in the area. In fact, they all mention that this is a must do – not to be missed. Grand Case considered the culinary capitol of the island. Nearly every business was a restaurant of some type, particularly on the beach side. We rowed ashore in the dinghy to explore the town.


Grand Case
The dinghy dock was rather menacing looking, made out of concrete with pieces of wood jutting out like dinghy-eating teeth. There was a slight surge, giving the impression that the dinghies already there were a cud being slowly chewed by a cow. We decided the best course of action was to set a stern anchor to hold her off the dock. When we got there, It took me several tries to get our little grapnel anchor to bite into the sand. I finally did get it to hold, tied it to the stern line and had Maryanne pull me in (she was standing on the dock with the painter in one hand). She pulled in on the painter while I slowly let out the stern line so that we could get the dinghy into just the right position so that I could step off but the dinghy wouldn’t touch the dock. As the dinghy approached the dock, I pulled on the stern line and – nuttin’ – no resistance. I pulled up the end of the stern line minus the anchor while Maryanne tried to keep the dinghy from submarining under the dock. Musta messed up the knot.

Well, in the manner that all of these things seem to happen, it was almost lunchtime and all of those many restaurants with all of their balconies overlooking the beach had hundreds of people who got to be entertained by the plight of a sailor that couldn’t tie a knot.


Kyle searches for lost anchor! Oops!
Luckily, the water wasn’t too deep. It didn’t take me too long to realize that my best option was to take off my shirt and shoes and go looking for the anchor, much to the amusement of the dinner-and-a-show crowd. [Maryanne]Sure it didn't take him long to realize this, I was raising my eyebrows and pointing at the water - "get in there and get our anchor back you wally!" was the unspoken command!

[Kyle]The water was up to my neck. I paced back and forth, hoping to kick up the anchor rode but was not having any luck. The surf had streamed the line in some weird direction and the anchor was being slowly buried in the sand. Small groups of people were gathering on the beach and on a nearby pier and pointing helpfully at places they thought I should look, most of which were nowhere near where it could be. A guy on a dive boat threw me a mask but the surf was churning up so much sand it wasn’t doing me any good. Eventually I stepped right on it and dove down to retrieve it. I held it out of the water for all to see. Some people cheered. A few seemed disappointed. I think many were hoping I would give up so that they could go look for it. I did my best to swagger out onto the beach with my best I-had-meant-to-do-that-the-whole-time look so well practiced by clumsy cats everywhere, but I don’t think I pulled it off.

Luckily it was hot and breezy and within a few minutes of putting the rest of my clothes back on, I was dry and no worse for wear. Maryanne and I went from one end of town to the other (about a mile) studying menus so we could decide where we would have dinner that evening. By the far end of town we had seen so many menus that they had all run together and we couldn’t remember which specific place had that specific thing that sounded so good. All of that thinking about food and the long walk was making us hungry, so we stopped at a patisserie and had delicious tarts and strong coffee. We also bought a couple of baguettes for later, only one of which made it back to the boat. That was yummy, too.

I love this picture - this is the remnants after a few French friends spend a couple of hours catching up with the gossip - ah the cafe life. Despite the number of bottles of wine, there were only 4 people at the table - You just know they had fun! And, of course, the birds are glad they left a few crumbs.
The patisserie had this adorable cleanup crew. The second anyone left their table, little yellow finch-like birds would descend on it and vacuum up the crumbs.


View from Le California in Grand Case, St Martin - the food was great too!
We took a couple of hours strolling back along the long beach, taking our time. Eventually, even though it was a bit early, we settled on Le California restaurant, which we chose because it had a balcony relatively close to Footprint and because the menu looked good. We took our time enjoying a nice slow dinner while the sun set. The appetizers were wonderful, the main courses were incredible. I don’t like Pina Coladas but Maryanne had one that she let me taste and it was yum-yum-yummy. Those coconuts were still breathing! Then, even though we knew we had already spent way more on a dinner out than we should have, I allowed the server to talk us into a dark chocolate fondu for dessert. Oh, magnificent chocolate fondu, what an unbelievably fantastic chocolate thingy you are. Wow! That was one of the very few times cheap old me spent that much on a meal and didn’t mind one bit. Everything was absolutely delectable and worth every penny. Ahh, the French and their relationship with food, you’ve got to love it.


Typical Lolos (Food shack) found in St Martin - this is one of many in Grand Case
Our next day in Grand Case, we slept in and went ashore to have an early lunch at the lolos. Halfway between a restaurant and a roadside shack, the lolos are individual kitchens, mostly barbecue, that in Grand Case occupy a common area – kind of like a French/Caribbean food court. Prices here were much more reasonable (ribs for $4 US) and Maryanne and I were able to get a nice lunch for $13 for the two of us, including a cold beer each. As lunch proper rolled around, it began to get a little crowded, so we took yet another beach stroll and ended up at Calmo’s beach bar. Calmo’s has such a nice atmosphere. In the back, away from the beach, they have cozy places to sit with wood floors that resemble what you would find in an arty coffee house. As you go toward the beach, the place very gradually morphs to picnic tables with a sand floor, then to tables in the shade of palm trees, then to beach chairs in the blazing sun, where you can put your feet in the surf. It happens so gradually and seamlessly that it is possible to get exactly where you want to be on the sliding scale of coziness versus beachiness. They make a good strong ti punch there, which I drank slowly, while Maryanne nursed a beer. We stayed for the rest of the afternoon until it was time to take the sunset walk back to the dinghy and Footprint.

[Maryanne]Since this is the last break for Kyle for a while before we focus on boat maintenance, we agreed to spend this trip chilling out. We ate out way more often than we would normally do, and also didn't restrict ourselves to the cheapest of menus we could find. We were both relaxed and enjoyed it... Of course, now we are happy we don't have a motor. We need to work off all these wonderful extra calories!

Anguilla to French St Martin

Checking in, at the Radisson Marina, in Anse Marcel, St Martin
[Kyle]From Road Bay, we cleared out of Anguilla and sailed in nice tailwinds along the coast. Swells from a storm further north crashed into the cliffs sending spray flying. We came around Anguillita and headed hard on the wind toward Saint Martin. The chop wasn’t too bad and after a couple of tacks, we entered the Radisson Marina on the French side of the Island.

Earlier that morning, we had a minor crisis when we realized that French customs was closed from Saturday noon until Monday morning, which would have meant that we couldn’t legally go ashore for two days, thus defeating the whole point. Eventually, I noticed a note on noonsite.com about the Radisson being a port of entry. Our coast pilot did not list it as such. Eventually, I called them on the Iridium phone and in broken French and English was able to determine that they were authorized to act as an after-hours agent for customs – for a fee. “Oh, great! That’s how they get you!” I thought, but it turned out the fee was only five Euros so I shut up and we headed over.

We paid our fee and topped up our water tanks for 10 cents per gallon, which were getting critically low. We had intended to anchor in the harbor outside the marina for the night but once we got there, we found that there was nowhere that wasn’t either too close to the rocks or being hit with the really bad North swell, so we continued around the corner to the anchorage at Grand Case.

It was late and we were really too tired to get the dinghy out and venture ashore, so we just stayed aboard for the night. From the anchorage, Grand Case reminds me very much of Deshaies, Guadeloupe. There are open air restaurants all along the white beach, each with balconies overlooking the surf. Music and people's conversations drifted over with the trade winds. Occasionally, we’d get a whiff of smoke from a barbecue. It had a very lively French feel.


We enjoyed the sounds and sat in the cockpit looking up at the stars and talking about our good fortune. It so did not seem like February.

[Maryanne]Our first impression of French St Martin is that it clearly has a different flavor from the Dutch side. It is much less developed (no casinos, nor high-rise hotels). And of course they embrace their modern European ways (while retaining that Caribbean touch): there is recycling everywhere for a start! In that same eco-friendly vane we spotted these two cute small vehicles.

Small is beautiful, and Environmentally friendly

Anguilla

I just love this picture! Taken on the beach at Road Bay Anguilla
[Kyle]After having spent a week working in the depths of a Northeast winter, Maryanne and I had a week and a half to go sailing. Our first stop was Anguilla, half a dozen miles to the North of St Maarten/St Martin. We got up early to transit the French side and pass under the Sandy Ground drawbridge into Marigot Bay. Once clear of the shore, we unfurled the sails and had a nice fast reach across the Anguilla Channel to the southwest tip of that Island. Once safely around Anguillita rock, we reduced sail and found ourselves beating hard into the trade winds in a flat sea shielded by the limestone cliffs of Anguilla. We weren’t quite able to parallel the coast and ended up gradually diverging north into rougher and rougher seas and stronger winds. This took us toward many of the uninhabited islands of the Anguilla Marine Park system. We weaved our way amongst these islands until we were sure we would have a downwind course to Road Bay for Customs clearance.

Of all the places we've been so far in the Caribbean, Anguilla has the strictest cruising and anchoring restrictions. Fees are high and based on tonnage (a quasi-measure of volume, not actual weight. Even though Footprint actually weighs about 4 tonnes, we have a documented net tonnage of 8 and a gross of 10, mostly because she is wide and has a deep draught with the centerboards down.) Road Bay is the only approved anchorage in the whole of the country without purchasing (in addition to normal port fees) a cruising permit for $100/day or $600/week. Even with a cruising permit, the only other anchorage where it is legal to anchor overnight is in Crocus Bay, just around the corner from Road Bay. All other anchorages on any of the islands are for day use only, many with additional fees for use of the Park moorings.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that Footprint’s tonnage is below the bottom tier for the Anguillan fee structure. This means that if we only stay in Road Bay (and we can’t afford to go anywhere else), our entire stay is completely free. The other good news is that Road bay is a beautiful anchorage.

We got in and went to Customs and Immigration. It was one room occupied by two women who called each other Customs and Immigration. Poor Immigration was in a state of constant annoyance at everything in the manner of a teenager who doesn’t like anything. She was particularly annoyed at the Frenchman trying to clear in in front of us. He was having trouble with all of her questions in English and kept asking her to repeat and speak more slowly, which only made it worse. I thought she was going to send him back to where he came from when she asked him for his birth date ever and ever more loudly as if he would somehow comprehend. Maryanne eventually saved the poor guy by translating the phrase for him, thus enabling him to finally escape her ire so that she could focus it on us.

Apart from a lot of eye rolling, she wasn’t so bad with us and we got in quickly.
Next was Customs – Yin to Immigration’s Yang. She could not have been more pleasant. She even told us that if we wanted directions or information at all about anything on the island, feel free to pop in any time and ask. Now I know why they call each other Customs and Immigration.


Road Bay Beach - Anguilla
After that, we took a tour of the town. We went up the main road to the edge of town. Then, for the second minute, we went back to the dinghy via the beach.
Oh, the beach. What a marvelous beach Road Bay has. The sand is about half a step coarser than dust – just heavy enough to keep it from floating around in the air and the color of eggshells. It is so soft. The water in the bay is that amazing Caribbean blue that still doesn’t seem real to me. It looks as if someone liquefied a clear mountain sky and poured it into the harbor. Add in the sound of the surf and the palm trees hissing in the trade winds and it becomes the stereotypically perfect Caribbean beach.

Except for one thing. The commercial wharf dominates the south end of the beach. It is constantly full of barges and cargo ships loading and unloading. Twenty four hours a day there is the constant rumble of tractors and trucks in an almost unbroken line. It actually made for some pretty entertaining ‘TV’ to watch the ships deftly maneuver into the harbor without disturbing the anchored boats. For the life of us, though, we couldn’t figure out why the port was so busy. There are only 12,000 people on the island. They can’t possibly need all of those dump trucks full of dirt or all of those shipping containers. Perhaps there’s some evil genius building an underground lair…

Our second day in Anguilla we really didn’t do much. It was nice to have the freedom to loaf. We got up deliciously late. I had intended to have a nice slow morning, but then I got out of bed and looked out the window.

The water! I forgot about the water. Suddenly, I’m a kid at the amusement park. I don’t need food. I don’t need coffee. I need to throw on some trunks and go swimming! Aaah, what lovely blue water – just barely below lukewarm so that it takes the bite out of the midday sun. After an initial dip, I did go back for coffee and breakfast, but it wasn’t long before we were both outside diving off the boat. Maryanne had decided that she wanted to work up the courage to jump off the cockpit roof. She spent the better part of an hour watching me demonstrate and then doing test runs before finally chickening out in the end. She said the height didn’t bother her, it was the prospect of not clearing the lifelines.

We swam to the beach, then carried our snorkel gear to the reef at the north end of the beach before going back in to explore. It was the usual reef stuff: pretty coral, pretty fish. Maryanne gets the award for spotting a ray which circled us a few times at just the range of visibility.


Elvis' Beach Bar - Anguilla
We swam back to the boat and dried off. Then we took the dinghy to Elvis’ Beach Bar. (Elvis is a local Rasta Man) What a spot. Part of the bar is a boat that had been cut lengthwise and widened just enough to get the bartender in, serving drinks on the ‘deck’. The place was full of other cruisers and we spent most of our time with Jan of Woodwind. She is a contributor to Sail magazine and gave us lots of good tips about the BVI. We couldn’t help but think about our friend JD. He would love it here (well, I guess most people would).

The next day, we just kinda chilled and enjoyed it all. Aaah... Just what we came for.

Dutch Sint Maarten

Kyle relaxes at a roadside Mexican in St Maarten
[Maryanne]We are hanging out in Dutch St. Maarten for the Month of February - it is an easy commute for Kyle, and we have great resources to get some final boat project completed for a potential Atlantic crossing over the summer.

However it is not such a great island to tour (remember the warnings we received when we first checked in). The local trails to the beautiful mountain tops are likely places for theft, and physical threat (Think group of guys with a machete) - so we shall not be doing our usual hiking (certainly not me alone). We do hope to visit the Capital (Philipsburg) and in particular the Guavaberry (local killer liqueur) HQ. So far we have stuck to the lagoon area, and streets around, and had absolutely NO issues or ever felt under any threat, so there doesn't seem any need to avoid the place, just be cautious.

The main good thing here though is it is such a great cruiser community. There is a cruiser net every morning (7:30, channel 14), where new visitors are welcomed, and all sorts of advice dished out (along with a buy/sell/swap opportunity).

I've also attended a boat Insurance seminar kindly hosted by a cruising broker for IMIS, and a presentation from a British couple just starting a seabird survey for the lesser Antilles - there always seems to be something going on.

It is easy to get between the Dutch and French side of the island (bike/bus/dinghy, or even water taxi don't require any customs, etc) - so we have plenty of places to shop for groceries and boat supplies.

We've moved our anchorage to be a little nearer to the boat stores, laundry and propane providers. But have been unable to find free internet from the boat, so we use the local "Cappuccino" bar (open 24/7) where we get free wifi and power while I sit drinking and soaking up the atmosphere (alternatives are McDonalds, or Ric's). There are various sign up options but way more expensive than we are used to - I signed up to SMART WIFI for a week, and after paying, never got a signal again... Doh!

All in all, Dutch St Maarten is fine to stop and provision and get any boat work done - It's also fine if you like the bar life, with plenty of bars and restaurants to choose from, enough to keep you busy for at least a month, but otherwise I wouldn't plan to hang out here. There are very few inexpensive places to eat out, but there are plenty of happy hours around to ensure drinking need not cost more than $1 a beer.

We're Just Fine

Oops, we haven't posted for a while.. Two main reasons! Firstly, well,
we've been busy having fun, and secondly we've had terrible, lousy,
internet service from the boat (unless we want to pay mega bucks, which
we don't). I've taken the computer ashore a few times, but its a pain;
I generally try to multi task if I have to row ashore, and taking the
laptop is no fun if I'm also doing laundry, or grocery shopping etc.

So - what have we been up to? We Left Sint Maarten and headed to the
quiet Anguilla for a few days, then came back and spent some time on the
French Side (St Martin). Now we are finally back on the Dutch side and
getting Kyle ready to go off to work again. We'll post properly soon
with photos and all, but for now at least you know we are safe and well.

St Martin - Not so bad after all

[Maryanne]After a little passport scare, we got Kyle off to work safely during the week. That left me in St Maarten to explore and start the long list of chores. St Maarten is a bit of a boaters' Mecca. Duty free, and LOTS of boaters' services to hand - so people deliberately detour here to get work done on their boats. Hence it is full of cruisers and mega Yachts. Many cruisers tend to stay a while and find work, so all the boating places are full of cruisers and service is good and friendly. There is an excellent "cruisers net" in the mornings on the VHF radio, where cruisers can ask the group anything from where can I do laundry? Where can I purchase a soda stream?, buy sell and swap items etc. It "feels" like a community here.

I have yet to do anything touristy (except try out a few bars :-) ), and I've walked a lot from place to place doing my chores (because we don't have a motor on our dinghy, I row as short a distance as possible and then walk the rest - but since nearly everything I need is on the lagoon, most cruisers simply dinghy directly to where they need to go.

All that worry about safety, and I certainly haven't felt in any risk so far (thankfully, but obviously I'm being sensible). It really put things into perspective for me the other day when at the 9:30 bridge opening (into the lagoon) ALL the mega-yachts started honking their horns like crazy... I was not sure what was going on at first, and thought we were about to be ploughed into.. After the noise died down (and the honking is still going on a little 20 minutes later) someone on the radio asked what all the horns were for.. A reply said for the vessel (just arriving) whose captain was killed in Antigua. The yacht was Perseus. I hadn't heard about any incident so did a quick bit of research - I read "The victim was shot in the chest at close range Thursday night (22nd Jan) as he walked through a dockyard area near English Harbour with his girlfriend, Police Commissioner Thomas Bennett said. The motive was unclear and no arrests have been made, Bennett said." Another reports says the assault occurred by the Galley Bar in English Harbour. His Girlfriend was also shot (in the foot, in a some struggle) and his kid was there too.. I was so shocked I just cried. See full report. Now all that happened in Antigua, in sleepy English Harbour - right by a tiny open air bar than Kyle and I spent some time at sampling rum punches - Antigua is the 2nd lowest crime rate in the Caribbean, and all the time we were there, there was not so much as a minor theft. That news, and the earlier plane landing in the Hudson (all plane crashes make me reflect on Kyle's safety too) had me thankful how lucky we are! I can't imagine how the crew of the Perseus must be feeling, and of course the family of the captain - such a terrible and tragic loss.

I guess you are never truly safe anywhere, and you'll sooner or later die of something - I may as well enjoy myself and be reasonably careful along the way. Still, I'll skip the Gentleman's clubs here in St Maarten :-)

Statia to St Martin

[Maryanne]Since our last leg to Sint Maarten from Statia was a longer one (40 miles) compared to what we’d been used to, we needed to get up early to ensure we could check in at customs before they closed at 3:00pm. I set an alarm on my cell phone for 4am which went off promptly at 8:40!!! Fortunately, by then I’d already been up since I noticed daylight – we got ready in short order and departed the mooring under sail (always feels good – 2nd in satisfaction only to anchoring under sail). We ghosted in the lee of the island towards the oil terminal. Along the way we noticed (and heard) Ivan and Gulliver having their breakfast at Kings Well – we honked a farewell to Kings Well on the hailer. Within a minute or so Linda called us on the radio and said goodbye, and it was nice to meet. Linda and Will promised to visit us in Sant Maartin and to bring Maryanne some of her secret salad dressing (Maryanne had pestered unsuccessfully for the recipe, so a good supply would be the next best thing!).

We weaved our way through the tankers and outside of the restricted zones. Out of the lee of the island, we ran smack into heavy chop and head winds – Auggh! How I hate head winds. We had to quickly reef the sails (well - Maryanne did anyway), but were able to maintain pretty good speed anyway. Once we were further away from the island the wind veered and we had a nice fast beam reach to Sint Maarten in bright sunshine. On route we passed both the island of Saba and St Bart's, but unfortunately we'd already decided we would not stop (Save them for another time). We actually had enough speed that by the time we approached the island it looked like we would make it to customs about 10 minutes before they closed.

We started the engine, & put down the sails as we entered Sint Maarten, and motored up to the customs dock just outside the Simpson Bay drawbridge – it’s a very shallow dock (basically a dinghy dock) and not good for anyone drawing more than a couple of feet – we had to raise one of our rudders to be on the safe side (but hey, we were in a hurry). I rushed into the customs office, breathless, while Maryanne finished tying up Footprint, and began filling out the paperwork. Maryanne soon joined me and turned in the first few forms I’d completed while I continued. She discovered they were not closing at 3, so the pressure was off (but we still didn’t find out what time they would close).

Once done with customs clearance we had about an hour and a half before the drawbridge opening time for inbound boats. We were a little cheeky and lingered as long as we could at the customs dock, thus avoiding having to lower and raise the anchor for such a short period. I’m not entirely sure it was a good idea after all, as most of the power boats (and jet skis) left a good wake and bounced and jerked us around. The bridge opened for outbound boats at 4:30pm and we noticed that watching the exiting boats seemed to be a bit of a tourist attraction. About 15 minutes to go, we untied an left the dock for the inbound procession (and there were plenty of us) – again anther tourist attraction for the local bars and yacht clubs.

Bridge opening from Dutch side of Island into Simpson Bay
Once we entered the bay, our goal was to anchor as close as possible to the airport. We swung north and then west to get as close as possible to the airport terminal; this part of the bay was practically deserted (only one other boat anchored nearby). This was not surprising as it was a LONG way from anything useful (laundromat, stores, etc), and was also probably the least attractive part of the bay. It was getting dark so we anchored anyway. – We were safe at least for the evening. It took us 3 tries to get the anchor to hold fast (poor Maryanne was at the bow doing most of the work with our manual windlass). By the time we were done, it was too late to care about much other than eating dinner and going to bed. The one plus we found was it was really exposed, and with all the wind, the batteries were fully charged by morning. Later, Maryanne found a free internet connection with an antenna hoisted up the mast!

The following morning (Monday), all we really intended to do for the day was to make sure my flight to work was OK (space available); if not I’d have had to rapidly make alternative commute plans, and also to move the boat to prettier part of the bay with more facilities for Maryanne. We were both pretty tired from our week and found ourselves taking our time over things (I read a book, we worked on the blog). Eventually we moved the boat just outside the no anchoring zone off the departure end of the runway, much closer to the facilities, although the walk to the airport will be longer! While checking for the nearby dinghy dock and possible airport shuttle (before anchoring), we asked directions of a passing dingy – and found it was Fergus, a fellow Gemini owner (same boat as ours) – small world!

[Maryanne]It’s hard to say what our first impressions of St. Martin are since we just arrived. Our guidebooks have pages and pages of information, however it’s mostly listings for bars, night clubs etc. There are lots of casinos and “gentleman’s clubs”. All beaches are topless, and quite a few are nudist. Without really seeing the place, I’m thinking Spring Break in Cancun – not really my cup of tea. Once Kyle heads to work, I’ll explore more and hope to find the gentler side of the island. The only time we’ve set ashore was to clear into customs, where the notice board informed us that it is DANGEROUS to sight-see and hitchhike anywhere on the island (Hitchhiking I can understand, but the lady collecting our port fees, assured us that sightseeing too was dangerous). Indeed, it suggested whenever you visit a new town to check in with the local police as a courtesy visit and to be alerted to any particular areas to avoid. The guidebooks stress that rental cars are routinely stolen from (or thieves even deliberately bump into so they can hijack you! – the books advise NOT to stop at the scene of such an accident)… Yeah, not sure really how worried to be, but not too happy so far.