May 23, 2010 - Marigot, St. Martin

Before Deb and Kate arrived in Sint Maarten last week we had been having an unbelievably bad run of squally, windy weather. But ever since they've been here, the weather has been perfect. It has been such a relief to be able to do everything on our packed itinerary without having to work around bad weather.

Here is the next installment of Deb's guest blog entries [with a few additions by me in brackets]:

----- Original Message -----

Do Brazil

We all slept well in the calm and protected harbor and awoke happy to see that it was another beautiful morning in the Caribbean. Gustavia had several flat stretches of road, so Kate and I decided to use that running gear that we dragged on vacation and went for a run through town. The heat was overwhelming, but we muscled through about 45 minutes of exercise (running, walking and hills) before meeting up with Danika back at the harbor.

Shell Beach

After grabbing our swimsuits from the dingy, we went to the patisserie for some water and lovely French treats. (When in France, right??) From there, we went back to Shell Beach for a little more swimming and were able to sit in the shade on the beach chairs provided by Do Brazil. The beach was much more crowded than yesterday, seemingly with locals who came prepared for a day full of sun, fun, food and cocktails. Around 1130, we decided that we'd left Sten alone long enough (and, frankly, we were baking in the sun), so we headed back to the harbor and got aboard Mata'irea and soon departed for a return trip to St. Martin.

It turned out to be a surprisingly good day for sailing, with an unusual northwest wind. We raised the main, unfurled the jib and we were soon sailing towards St. Martin at 5.5-6.0 knots. We decided to sail past Simpson Bay and directly into the harbor at Marigot, which Danika and Sten thought would be fairly well protected from the swell based on the wind direction. We anchored around 530pm and everyone took a swim to cool down after a long [and hot] afternoon passage.

When we were back on board, Danika mixed some cocktails and Sten prepared proscuitto-wrapped shrimp, which he grilled and served with marinated zucchini and eggplant. YUM. We had thought about going into town for a dessert of sweet crepes, but the heat lightning in the distance killed that plan before we even got started. Instead, we had a dessert plate of Three
Musketeers, York Peppermint Patties and Charleston Chews.

Over dinner and drinks, Kate and I were able to fill D&S in on the myriad of horrible reality TV and celebrity gossip that they have been shielded from over the past few years. It was kind of funny to see their reactions to things like "Flavor of Love", "Keeping up with the Kardashians" and the seemingly endless streams of "Housewives" shows. I have a feeling they won't be getting cable when they get back to Newport!

Sten and I fell asleep in the cockpit (as usual), while Danika and Kate finished the last of the wine [as usual]. What a wonderful evening with wonderful friends!!!

----- End of Original Message -----

May 22, 2010 - Gustavia, St. Barts

I've probably had more exercise in the past two days than I do most weeks. One of our guests, Kate, is competing in a workout competition at her office. She explained the rules to me, oh, at least twice, but the gist of it is that she has to exercise at least five days a week to stay in the running. So, we've all been hiking and swimming and doing water aerobics to make her daily quota. I tried to convince her to substitute scrubbing the bottom of the boat (a great workout for the lungs and legs) for the swimming and polishing stainless or waxing the hull (these are mostly upper body workouts) for the water aerobics, but for some reason couldn't sell it. I clearly need to work on my powers of persuasion.

Here is the next installment of Deb's guest blog entries [with a few additions by me in brackets]:

----- Original Message -----

We woke up in beautiful Anse de Colombier and, after a quick breakfast, Sten dropped off us on the beach so we could hike around the corner of the island to Anse de Flamandes. It was a 30 minute walk and the beach at Anse de Flamandes did not disappoint. We walked to the far end of the bay on the road through town and then walked back along the immaculate white sand beach. Danika and I went for a quick swim before heading back to Columbier and Kate continued to stroll along the beach.

Once we got back to Columbier, Sten brought the dingy to shore to grab our clothes/shoes and we all swam back to Mata'irea. After our morning filled with activity, we took the boat to a [bouncy] anchorage outside of Gustavia and then took the dingy to Shell Beach (Anse de Grand Galet). We had a wonderful lunch at Do Brazil, which came with the added bonus of free lounge chairs (with umbrellas for much needed shade) for a post-lunch nap on the beach. Danika and Kate again took immigration duties while Sten and I relaxed for a couple of hours on Shell Beach.

When Danika and Kate came back from immigration, we got good news that we had secured a mooring in [the well-protected] Gustavia Harbor for the evening. So, we shuffled back to Mata'irea to (a) get ready for dinner and (b) move Mata'irea into the calmer waters of the harbor.

[Having never previously moored Mata'irea both bow and stern, Sten and Danika sussed out the situation and came up with a game plan. I joined Danika in the dinghy to rig the lines on the mooring balls while Kate stayed on board Mata'irea with Sten. As Sten drove Mata'irea into the harbor and past the stern mooring I threw the sternline up to Kate, who was standing on the back deck ready to cleat it off. Then Danika and I zipped up to the bow mooring and prepared to throw the lines to Sten and Kate, who were ready to cleat them off. The bowline ended up twisted and being way longer than necessary, so after dropping me off on the swim platform, Danika took a shorter, sturdier line from Sten to redo the bowline. The whole operation was a little tense and salty (so much for those pre-dinner showers) but very successful. We popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate.]

Once secured in the harbor, we quickly had a visitor (Trond), who was on the sailboat next to us in the harbor. Trond has been in St Barts for a while and has a myriad of problems on his boat, including problems with his generator, alternator and engine. To take his mind off his troubles, we invited him for an evening in town with us. (Generous as that may sound, we did not invite him aboard to share in our champagne.) We looked at several menus, but I was swayed by the gazpacho and we settled in for an evening at Le Strand. It was a delicious gourmet meal, complete with truffles, foie gras, tuna tartare and plenty of beef. We finished with a few desserts to share and headed back to Mata'irea for a gentle night's rest.

----- End of Original Message -----

May 21, 2010 - Anse de Colombier, St. Barts

Our guest blogger extraordinaire

We have two guests on board with us for the weekend, Kate and Deb. When we first invite people to stay on board with us we never know how they are going to acclimate to boat life. Kate, who spent a few nights on board with us in a marina in South Africa was a known entity, but we didn't know how Deb would do on the boat. We're happy to say that she's a natural. She is probably the least prone to seasickness out of all of us, including Sten. She also quickly discovered Sten's secret that the best place to sleep is in the cockpit. In addition, she helps with the dishes and writes the blog for me. This is one guest who is welcome back any time. Without further ado, here is Deb's daily update [with a few notes by me in brackets]:

----- Original Message -----

I woke up this morning to a beautiful daybreak, having spent the night on deck, in the fresh and warm Caribbean air. I had no idea what time it was (and didn't care), but knew that we'd be upping anchor around 9 and would head to Ile Forchue when the bridge opened at 930.


Right on target, we left Simpson Bay Lagoon at 930, but were heading directly into the wind. Danika and Sten put up the main and we motorsailed to Ile Forchue; arriving into the beautiful area at just after noon. [As we motored into the bay we passed a small French yacht that was having a difficult time picking up a mooring. As we drove by we had a front row seat for the yelling and could see how awkward and embarrassing it can be when things go wrong while trying to anchor, moor or dock a boat. And then, with Sten driving and Danika on the bow, we picked up our mooring on the first try. They were both clearly relieved that it went off without a hitch.] Danika treated us to a lunch of aged gouda, apples and wheat crackers, which we enjoyed (err ... devoured) before getting ready for our afternoon activities.

This guy really wanted to share our lunch

Next on our (very loose) agenda was some light hiking, which led to some of the prettiest views I've seen in quite some time. It was interesting to hike in such a natural environment, where there aren't yet trails to guide you along the route. Kate, Danika and I made it almost to the top (but didn't see the benefit in potentially ruining our nails to scramble the rest of the way up), while Sten went over the top and down the other side.


[Sten was above us on the descent when we realized that he'd been in the same spot for a while. We called up to find out what was keeping him. He responded that he had one of the mean cactus that populate the hillside stuck to his toe and his flip flop. And in trying to remove it he had gotten it also stuck to his hand. He was just trying to work up the gumption to yank it out of his palm before coming down. We tried not to laugh at him too much, but it was pretty comical.]

When we reached the bottom, it was time for a swim, so we jumped in to cool off. Danika, Kate and I swam back to Mata'irea (Sten took the dingy with our shoes/cameras) and then we did some snorkeling around the boat before moving on to our final destination for the day: Anse de Colombier (St Barts).

Kate donned a headscarf as part of her gambit to convince us to hire her on as our new galley slave

W[ith Kate assisting Danika on the bow] we picked up a mooring that was close to the beach and, while the ladies snorkeled around the shore, Sten began to prepare our evening feast. After getting cleaned up, we had pre-dinner wine tasting and were then treated to an unbelievable dinner of leg of lamb (rubbed in fresh garlic, ginger and pepper), tabbouleh, grilled veggies and a lovely red wine that Kate, Danika and Sten had tried (and purchased) in South Africa a few months back. We finished the night with a slide show from Kate's photo safari in Sabi Sabi and then we settled in for a good night's sleep. [True to form, Sten and I were snoozing away in the cockpit well before the end of the slide show.]

----- End of Original Message -----

May 17, 2010 - Anse de Colombier, St. Barts

Thanks to all the rough weather we've had lately, the seas in the Northern Caribbean are churned up, making yesterday's sail from Antigua to St. Barts a long, rough ride. After 78 miles of getting slapped around by short steep seas, we sailed into the lee of St. Barts. As we sailed up the the coast we were shocked by how many sailboats were anchored off of Gustavia. The last time we were here, to ring in 2007, the joint was wall to wall mega yachts with a handful of sailboats mixed in. The big boys have apparently all headed back to the Med for the summer and the cruising yachts have arrived to fill the void. We couldn't help but wonder if the number of boats here had something to do with the new fees in place in Sint. Maarten.

Just as we approached Anse de Colombier, we were smacked with another squall. It was nearly dark as we turned into the bay and dropped the mainsail. All the big moorings at the mouth of the bay were filled so we prepared to anchor. As I was untying the anchor another Tayana 48 hailed us to direct us towards a mooring at the head of the bay, well protected from the swell creeping into the mouth of the bay. Sten thanked him for the tip and we motored up towards the beach to pick up the mooring (the first we've been on since we left Chagos nearly 9 months ago). The combination of close quarters, shallow water, gusty winds and lack of practice made for a very stressful experience. By the time we had Mata'irea secured to the mooring the boat hook was on the bottom and we were none too pleased with each other. But we had a constructive talk about what to do differently next time and then tucked into some leftover tikka masala. By the end of the meal we were even laughing at each other's jokes again. As soon as dinner was over we turned in. It had been an exhausting day.

This morning, I had to take a swim to get the boat hook so I figured that I might as well do a bit of snorkeling. It turned out to be a very interesting jaunt. On the sandy, grassy bottom I spotted a nurse shark, southern stingray, and several hawksbill turtles feeding. Among the rocky shoreline I came across a nice queen helmet, but the owner was still home and very much alive, so I put it back.

With the boat tucked into such a nice spot next to the beach we hated to give it up. But our friends Kate and Deb are arriving in Sint. Maarten on Thursday and we've got a bunch of chores that we need to do there before they arrive. So, mid-morning we dropped the mooring and departed on an easy (if rolly) two hour run over to Sint. Maarten.

December 26, 2006 - January 2, 2007- Anse du Colombier, St. Bart’s

We’re anchored in beautiful bay, just about a mile from the main harbor of Gustavia. On our first afternoon here we hiked over to some beaches on the windward side. They really are stunning, and we could understand why St. Bart’s is such a renowned holiday destination. It is apparently the place to be for the Christmas holidays. The entire Caribbean charter fleet appears to be here this week. And we’re here to check them out.

There are hundreds of boats anchored around Gustavia, including some of the largest mega yachts in the world. Each day a dozen or so visit our beautiful anchorage, then scurry back to anchor off the main harbor again for the evening. I don’t quite understand why they don’t stay here. The only one that does stay night after night is Limitless, on the engine system of which one of Sten’s coworkers at CAT in Indiana spent months working.



Luckily for us, these boats occasionally provide us with some very good entertainment. I like to call this little routine “the anchor dance.”



The M/V Barchetta seems to have wrapped one of their anchor chains around the other while setting both of its anchors. So one of the crew climbed onto the anchor trying to unwrap the chain. As he lost his footing and fell into the water we gasped, certain that he had impaled himself. But he appeared to be fine as he repositioned himself on the bulbous bow and worked away on the tangle. After they managed to untangle the mess, the deck crew spent the rest of the morning doing anchor drills - punishment perhaps?

Another great source of entertainment is the bareboat charter boats that come bombing into the anchorage, courtesy flags all out of place. Everyone on the moored or anchored boats tense up to watch these guys maneuver. We had a guy anchored near us with a big old glory flying from his starboard stay, and a pirate flag off the backstay. So, he’s telling the world that he thinks he is in a US territory and that he hails from the land of the pirates?

A quick lesson: the flag of the country you are entering hangs from the starboard stay, below the first spreader. If you haven’t cleared in yet, the yellow Q flag goes below it. Any yacht club or cruising club burgees, or flags showing the nationality of the crew hang from the port stay. The flag of your country of registry flies from the stern. And there is never any excuse for flying the flag of your home team, particularly if that team is the Eagles, because that's just sad, or the Yankees, and if I have to explain that to you, then you clearly aren’t from New England.

Hawksbill turtles hatch on the shores around here and a good number seem to have stuck around. Whenever we’re in the cockpit we see them surfacing for air. After a few days of snorkeling I happened across one that was feeding on the bottom. I spent about 30 minutes hovering 30 feet above him, watching him feed. Twice he surfaced to take a few breaths before diving back to the bottom. There were three remoras hovering around him as he fed, surfaced and dove - like his own little entourage.

We ventured into Gustavia a few times to wander through the shops and have a few meals off the boat. The cheeseburgers at Le Select really are excellent - I understand how they could have inspired Buffet to write Cheeseburger in Paradise. We had one rather good meal at Eddie’s, one of the more reasonably priced places in town. We were amused when the folks at the table behind us were so pleased with their $200 bill for a family of four, two of which were under the age of four. Christmas week in St. Barts can throw off your perspective in so many ways.

There is a race around the island each year on the 31st. As Jake on Avalanche put it, if you have a rating you should do it just to get your ass kicked by the fastest yachts in the world. We don’t have a rating, so Sten went out in the dink to watch Ranger and Endeavor fly by him.

On New Year’s Eve we anchored among the fleet off of Gustavia so that we could watch the fireworks. We went into town thinking that we would have dinner at the little Vietnamese shop, but even they had gotten into the price gouging and were offering a 70 Euro fixed price dinner. So, back to Le Select we went, where we had tasty burgers and a terrific time people watching. Entire families, including little kids, were out enjoying the night. After a bit of dancing, we went back to the boat in time to watch the fireworks.

At the stoke of midnight the fleet, lead by Lone Ranger, began sounding their fog horns. It was a haunting, mournful wail, which seemed all the more sorrowful after the festivities of the evening.
During the evening the wind died, and all of the boats began hanging off of their anchor chains in the most haphazard way. So before we could swing into anyone, we upped anchor and headed back to our little bay. As we passed Rising Sun, currently the biggest yacht in the world (there is a basketball court on the aft deck), she began doing a laser light show off of her top deck. Crazy.

In the morning, we were enjoying our coffee in the cockpit when we noticed the rather seaworn looking yacht next to us getting ready to sail off its mooring. Assuming that the couple on deck had a few miles under their belts, I turned to Sten and said “I have to give them props for that. Nobody sails off their mooring anymore.” No sooner had I said that than we realized that the couple on board had no idea what they were doing. The main was sheeted in completely and they were bearing down on us. Sten shouted at them to ease their main and I scrambled to the stern rail to untie a fender in time to fend them off, but I couldn’t get it loose before they crashed into us. Luckily, our pushpit was stronger than their pulpit, which lifted right out of their deck. We only sustained minimal damage to our caprail.

What we couldn’t believe was that they seemed to have every intention of continuing to sail out of the harbor. Sten hopped into the dink to chase them down and get their information. Of course, it turns out that they had borrowed the boat from a friend and had no idea if it was insured or not. When Sten asked him why he sailed off the mooring in a crowded harbor if he didn't know what he was doing, the guy who was driving offered up the excuse that his engine had died. Couldn’t they have asked for help? We certainly learned a valuable lesson about not judging the skills of the crew by the appearance of the boat. But still, I wouldn’t go so far as to assume that the guy in the charter boat flying the pirate flag knows what he’s doing.

December 25, 2006, Ile Fourche

We spent Christmas day reading and swimming. Sten hiked to the peak to check out the windward side. His descriptions of the view and the birds soaring below him made me wish that I had torn my head out of my book long enough to go with him. As he described the number of boats anchored around Gustavia Harbor I had trouble fathoming it, and I wondered where we would find room to anchor.

In the afternoon I snorkeled along the submerged walls of the crater. The beauty here is stark. The reward for your explorations isn’t pretty colorful corals and fish, rather it is a vision of the powerful and unforgiving seismic forces that created this little island.


For dinner we grilled up fish steaks and served them with a mango and black bean salad. There was meant to be avocado in the salad, but we didn’t have any that were ripe.

We both love to cook. The catch 22 of our situation is that we have all the time in the world to read cookbooks (we have more than a dozen with us) and a reasonably functional galley (despite the challenges of the easy bake oven), but we are usually either no where near a grocery when we realize that we don’t have all the ingredients necessary to make the recipe that seems most tempting to us, or if we do have a grocery near by, it doesn’t have the ingredient that we’re looking for (be it something as exotic as lemongrass or mundane as half ‘n half or red onions) in stock. So we’re forced to be creative.

We spent the evening watching the moon rise and talking - a fantastic wide ranging dialogue about the heavens and man’s relationship with them through the ages.

December 24, 2006 - Ile Fourche, off of St. Barthelemy

After a very tight upwind sail into steep seas we rounded the corner of Ile Fourche into a bay protected by the half sunken walls of a volcanic crater. As we approached Le Petite Ilet, off the northwest corner of the island, Sten began to haul in both of our fishing lines, which hadn’t seen a bite since the monster of the deep bit off his new lure on the passage down from Bermuda. As he hauled in the handline, something struck the line. Fish on!

Approaching the little harbor full of boats, we still had both sails up, and now a fish to land. I turned the boat into the wind (directly towards the anchorage), backed off the throttle, and below to grab some booze to pour over the fish’s gills to subdue it. Grabbing the first thing I laid hands on in the liquor cabinet (Bacardi - at least it wasn’t the last of our dwindling supply of Chinaca), I ran back up on deck. Sten had the fish on the aft deck.

We gave it its last rites with the Bacardi, and got our sails down and anchor set without incident. Before we cleaned it, we tried to figure out what we had landed. Our best guess was kingfish, but if anyone has a better guess, let us know. [Update: According to Bill, it is a cero mackerel]






We had sashimi and a bottle of Westport Rivers sparkling wine for Christmas Eve dinner, but the flavor of the fish was a bit strong for eating raw. After dinner, we exchanged gifts. We both gave each other a box of chocolates - Sten gave me truffles from Jeff de Bruges in Marigot and I gave him mint chocolates from Marks & Spencer in Bermuda. Sten also gave me a French phrase book, which should come in handy as we visit several French islands over the next month.