Seacycle at St. Marten

Log #6

April 28-May8

After staging at Virgin Gorda for a few hours in the afternoon we decided to give it a shot and headed out past Necker Island around four in the afternoon on April 28/06. This was as east as we could go on the island chain using the lee of the virgins to gain as much weather gauge as possible. The wind was blowing slightly south of east at 100 degrees so, not much chance of pure sailing, no surprise there since the majority of the trip has been motor sailing. On the other hand the weather gurus were only calling for 10 knots and seas less than 4 feet so we were hoping for a smooth motor sail. We ran about five miles northeast watching our position in relation to the Anegada reef which over the years is the burial ground for over a hundred wrecks. It was quite sloppy since the depth was still only less than a hundred feet. After about an hour and a half we finally turned towards St. Marten and things got smoother as the bottom fell away. Ticketoo and another boat we had left with had turned southeast as soon as they cleared Virgin Gorda while we pressed on. Soon it was dark and the radio started buzzing. We found we had other company out there including Bravo 2 from Peterborough and Delilah from Boston who previously had crossed to Luperon the night we did with another group, all of us arriving at the anchorage at the same time from different islands. Delilah and Bravo had left from the Drake Channel, further down near Coopers Island about an hour earlier than us.

The Anegada (also known as the Ohmygoda) leaves you open to3000 miles of fetch all the way back to Africa, all trying to funnel in between the virgins and the northern Leeward Islands. It is not a passage to take lightly.
The big bonus for us on this trip was the installation of the autopilot which we had done in dribs and drabs since leaving Puerto Rico. We had the steering component hooked up but not the rudder sensor. I figured this should be enough for this season since mounting the sensor means empting all the lazerettes and some epoxy work something I don’t need to get into right now. We tested it in the Drake Channel between islands and it seemed fine if we kept an eye on it. We were both looking forward to escaping the tyranny of hand steering for hours on end. We had installed a new binnacle compass before leaving but had never hooked up the light using the two lit bulkhead compasses which are very convenient when sitting. Any time we stood I had to do the Douglas Fairbanks thing and steer with a flashlight between my teeth. I was looking forward to losing the taste of vulcanize rubber.
By dawn we had Dog Island in sight just off Anguilla with the only excitement during night being a couple of thunderstorms passing to the northeast of us. The autopilot performed like a charm putting us in a whole new world where getting some rest was possible. Most people get a little freaked out when we tell them we had hand steered this far. We passed to the west of Anguilla and pulled into Marigot bay on the French side of the island.
On the radio no one could believe we were already there almost three hours ahead of the next boat. It seems the time we took to get further to the east, almost eight miles, had paid off with us holding the rhumb line while the rest spent the night on a beat motor tacking through the wind. More often than not we arrive, middle to late pack, so we savored the moment.

St. Marten is a divided island, half French and half Dutch. Other than checking in to customs you are allowed free access the island. In theory your boat is suppose to stay where you check in on one side or the other. In the center of the island is a large lagoon accessed by dredged channels on both sides with drawbridges running on a fixed schedule. The lagoon is full of shoals but has a reputation as a hurricane hole. Again there are so many boats here it would only take a few to act as missiles if they broke loose which is exactly what happened last time. Most of the boats anchor on the Dutch side as this is where the most tech services and chandleries are located. There are also marinas here which cater to the mega yachts. The French side has some interesting marinas but more along the mash camp version. The French islands are considered part of France and as such support a large ex-patriot population who are eligible for benefits.
There are a lot of liveaboards on the hard, if you get my drift. We stayed in Margiot Bay for seven days pretty well because it was where we anchored and we were apprehensive about going up the channel on the French side. Checking in was a breeze, taking longer to fill out the paper work than anything. Four of the days were holidays and everything was closed. The downside was a couple of rolly nights, with the upside being that we could swim, which you wouldn’t want to do in the lagoon. This allowed us to keep cleaning the bottom which has become a daily job whenever possible.

The best thing about St. Martin, the bread! F
or the first time since leaving the States we had real bread. Everywhere in the Bahamas, right through the Virgins everything was either cardboard or loaded with sugar. But here, o la la, the baguettes and pastries. It was sensual. The large groceries were modern and packed with mouth watering cheeses and deli assortments, not to mention the inexpensive plunk. Say what you will the French they know how to eat. All the female sailors were complaining about a reversal to weight gain after months of the captain’s high anxiety diet.

Now strange as it sounds one of the predominate features of this 21 square mile island is the traffic jams. Rush hour is perpetual during daylight hours. Every time one of the bridges opens, things back up for miles. You will be standing in town looking at the hills two miles away and everything is gridlock. The main hangout for cruisers is Shrimpies another do it all spot with internet, laundry, bar and restaurant. The owner is an interesting businessman who has even put in a dingy lift and for a fee will lift and have the bottom of your dink scrubbed. It was at St. Martin we finally got the last of our boat show orders delivered from last October. Cost us a small fortune, killing any supposed savings from the show. We also picked up pepper spray here on the advice of cruisers headed north who warned us of increased activity in boarding .Even in the Grenadines there were three armed boarding’s in one night. We had already armed ourselves with a sling shot and had our flare gun and our lobster spears, just need a plan I guess. Hopefully nothing will come up. A lot of Americans are packing guns, just doesn’t seem worth it. There is one American here, who interrupted the theft of his dinghy in Venezuela by swimming after the guys who proceeded to hit him with what he thought was a stick. It turned out to be a machete and took ninety stitches leaving him with a new face. We have also built a sling to lift the dinghy out of the water at night, so we can lock it to the boat. By now the pack has really thinned out and you know pretty well everybody who’s headed south, at least by sight or name. There are also a large number of boats here gathering to jump off to Bermuda and then off to the States or Europe. They take what’s known as the I-65(degrees longitude) north to Bermuda then turn accordingly.

Well, we decided to push on and checked out on Sunday May7th, headed for St. Bart stopping for one night to snorkel at a marine reserve called Ile Fourchue. The island here has no trees. Evidently an out of control goat population decimated the vegetation and then itself before being pulled off the islands. The spot was well known for smuggling between the Dutch and French settlers and has a saddle shape between two large hills where the wind gusts through from the Atlantic side, swinging your boat like a pendulum.


Well ultra-chic St. Bart is home to the rich, famous and topless. The main harbour is Gustavia, modern and very clean surrounded by expensive designer boutiques and eateries. There is a long modern sea wall here which you are allowed to tie, stern to, if you wish, but we opted for the outer harbour even though it was very deep, moving a couple of times till we were satisfied. Again the check in procedure was done smoothly and pleasantly even though it was another public holiday. The famous racing yacht Ticonderoga was at dock all polished varnish, spiffed up and looking impressive. Everyone was hanging out, very fashionable and cool. Not wanting to let our side down, I had dressed in my best white tee shirt, the one covered in rust spots, which I call nautical batik, infiltrating the crowd hoping to start a new trend while out looking for a cheeseburger.
To be continued,