More Medical Control & Sailing from Antigua to Saint Martin

I returned to Antigua in early December, as planned, and started prepping the boat for launching. My shoulder was back to full use after breaking my collarbone, so things were going well. Until they didn’t.

When I was working inside my boat—then hauled out on land for summer storage—I needed to get back on the ground for something, and I started to go down the ladder that was leaning against the boat. I noted that it had been moved by some boatyard worker into a somewhat awkward position, but figured they had a reason to want it that way, and it didn’t look like a problem. So, I climbed down it.

However, it had rained earlier, the steps were slippery, and the ground was softened up some. Consequently, as I descended, the ladder sank into the ground and tilted, and as I started down, I also tilted and slid on the ladder steps and fell backwards off it against a chain-link fence and other solid items. That hurt!

After a quick assessment to find nothing broken, I saw that my arms and upper torso had multiple slashes and were bleeding quite a bit. “Oh, great! Here I go again, having to take care of injuries that will take a long time to heal,” I immediately thought. And I was right: two and a half months later, I was mostly healed back to normal, except for numerous new scars.

Now, what’s my point in this little exposition? Well, back to my previous blog on control and an aging body: Where did I go wrong in making decisions? Was I just sloppy, or am I too old and putting myself in situations I can’t adequately control, etc?

After a lot of thought, I’ve concluded that regardless of where I’m living, I need to take time to assess my activities more adequately. I could have fallen off a ladder at home while trimming bushes (which I’ve done when younger) just as easily as while working on my boat in another country. So, in many respects, where I’m living isn’t the issue.

How about age? Maybe I’m too old to do some stuff? Yeah, I think that’s something to consider, because some jobs expose oneself to a risk of strain and accidents that are best left to younger bodies. And I’ve made a list of such boat jobs that I’ll hire to be done, and will do the same for at-home jobs. However, the control point of contention in doing that is to make sure that I leave enough jobs/activities for me to do so they will help maintain my body in good condition and not deteriorate. That means a lot of decision-making about what to do throughout the day, but that’s OK. It’s good to help keep my mind active and to have a sense of control over my life, rather than just zoning out and leaving everything to someone or something else.

Now, on to cruising!

In early January, my new crew, Connie, 75 from Seattle, joined me in Falmouth Harbor, Antigua. Due to the extended airport time consumed with customs, luggage, etc., she had to arrive at the dinghy dock in the dark, in a strong downpour of rain, trust me as we motored out into the blackness to find my boat, and climb aboard with her wet gear. But, she’s a trooper and took it all in stride.

After seeing some historical sites in the nearby English Harbor, we had a nice four-hour sail to Barbuda, which is the second major island comprising the nation. It’s very flat and sandy, much like islands in the Bahamas, but large and quite isolated, though it does have a small town and the largest frigate bird colony in the Caribbean. After three days of enjoying being tucked in a calm anchorage, we returned to Antigua for provisions.

Since Connie hadn’t been to Guadeloupe before and it was a favorite of mine, we took two weeks to visit the charming Ile des Saints islands and the city of Pointe à Pitre, with its fantastic Mémorial ACTe (Caribbean Centre of Expression and Memory of the Slave Trade and Slavery) museum. I’ve been there four times and am always astounded by its message. It’s always pleasant to revisit a place you’ve appreciated in the past. Then, it was time to head north to check out some islands I’ve never been to.

Connie in Pointe à Pitre

The first was Montserrat, first settled by Carib Indians from other islands, then by Irish settlers from nearby St. Kitts to grow tobacco, indigo, cotton, and sugar. The importation of slaves from Africa boosted the population greatly. Britain and France fought over possession, as with many of the other Caribbean islands, and it finally remained under British control until 1956, when it became an independent nation.

Being another recently active volcanic island in the Caribbean, it suffered frequent eruptions, with the last in 1995 that destroyed the capital city of Plymouth and forced the abandonment of the southern half of the island. The accompanying photo shows the destroyed city to the right and to the left. Dividing the city is an eroding gorge that exposes the ash and lava debris of the tall volcano, and an ash cloud stirred up by the wind. It’s not a large island but quite rugged.

We had hoped to spend a couple of days ashore, but the large sea swells swinging into the small harbor, and the lack of a docking pontoon for dinghies made it dangerous to even get ashore, let alone leave the boat and dinghy for any sightseeing. Consequently, we spent a bumpy night anchored nearby and left the next day for the next island, Nevis.

Nevis is part of the nation of St. Kitts and Nevis, a member of the British Commonwealth, after having been fought over by Britain and France for centuries because of the sugar and slave trade. Also, like other Caribbean islands, it is of volcanic origin and also has its history of devastating eruptions. Nevis’ big claim to fame is as having been the birthplace of Alexander Hamilton.

A monthly flea market museum fundraiser at his home.

Charlestown is the major city and capital, and is a decent small place where we spent four days walking around, seeing the Hamilton museum, and generally waiting out the weather, with the usual trade winds having died and high ocean swells continuing, such as we had in Montserrat.

Next was St. Kitts, separated from Nevis by a two-mile channel, and the larger of the two islands. The capital city of Basseterre is much larger than Charlestown and very tourism-oriented, with large cruise ships docking every day and unloading their passengers into the modern tourist shop plaza. Of note to us was the existence of supermarkets for groceries and an easy place to deposit our garbage—both are always of concern for cruisers. After spending an hour going through an antiquated departure procedure with Customs and Immigration, the next day, we headed north to Saint Martin, since there really wasn’t much of any interest for us to see in these islands.

This island is divided into two parts: Saint-Martin (French) and Sint Maarten (Dutch), both

being overseas constituents of their respective nations, sort of like states, but not physically connected to their European mainland part. The main Dutch city is Fredericksburg; very large, situated on a huge beachfront bay lined with tourist shops, hotels, restaurants, and hundreds of beach umbrellas and chairs. At one end of the bay is where the cruise ships dock, easily handling up to five at a time quite consistently.

Scattered around the city hills are all types of commercial centers to essentially serve the whole island, regardless of nationality. In fact, everything is done in English (the official language besides Dutch): signs, conversation, and even using the US dollar for currency. Nothing gives the appearance of a Dutch background. Along the huge lagoon in the western end of the island, which divides the countries, are many boat service facilities that make Saint Martin a premier place for repairing and servicing yachts, both small and mega-yachts.

Marigot is the French capital city where we anchored and spent most of our time. It’s much smaller in size than Fredericksburg and less commercial in feeling. Of course, French is the official language, but English is spoken readily by most people we had contact with. It definitely had a French flavor to its architecture, public facilities, driver etiquette, store offerings, and food—of course.

Marigot city center, Dutch side in distance, I'm anchored out to the right.

Dinghy dock center, marina left, old fort ruins atop hill, town center to right.

The island has been divided this way since 1648, with the French northern part being larger and, in my opinion, having the more interesting geography, such as small mountains, vegetation, and especially the quaint bays and beaches. Though we anchored just offshore of the city center and close to an excellent dinghy dock, we did make excursions to sample other small bays, small towns such as Grande Case, and beaches like Orient Beach.

Orient Beach is well-known for its several miles of beachfront with umbrellas and chairs for sunning or walking, tasty restaurants and bars, wind for sail-boarding and para-sailing, light surf for play, and clothing-optional acceptance in the north end. Of course, there is lots of room for anchoring yachts, but no dinghy dock, which meant anchoring the dinghy just out of the surf and wading to the beach. Not a big deal if the surf isn’t strong, as it wasn’t when we were there. All in all, it was a fun place to spend a few days.

However, Connie’s time aboard was ending, and at the end of February, it was time for her to board a jet home. It was also time for my next crew person to soon arrive and for me to catch up on some boat projects before she came aboard. So, that section of this year's cruise was a good one, a pleasant episode of control in my life—especially after the uncontrolled accident in Antigua at the beginning of the cruise—and I’m looking forward to seeing what the next one will bring!