May 10, 2010 - Deshaies, Guadeloupe

I adore the French islands. The food is fantastic. Between the plump local produce and excellent deli selections at the markets and groceries, and the Creole cooking with French techniques at the restaurants, we are spoiled for choice. There are lots of good anchorages, protected from the wind and swell. And the distances between make for easy day sails. Ashore, the towns and cities just work. There is decent public transportation and a high level of employment. I'm aware that all this infrastructure and prosperity is subsidized by the taxes paid by the good people of France and the EU, but hey, I just appreciate all the lovely new concrete piers.

The people are also lovely. Most folks, if they have any English, will make an effort to speak and understand it (unlike, say, in Paris). And the folks I've spoken to have been very patient with my pathetic French. Though, after a few weeks in Martinique and Guadeloupe it is improving . . . though, probably not as much as I think it is.

Whenever I'm ashore without Sten, I get hit on, which I'm pretty sure has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the culture. The men here can't help but flirt. They are French. But it isn't the aggressive, macho, come-on style of the southern islands (St. Lucia, St. Vincent), which used to make me very uncomfortable if I was out by myself. In the French islands, it is a friendlier, gentler approach, which always makes me laugh. A little flirting is so very good for the ego. I could easily spend a season just in the French islands, though by the end of it, Sten probably wouldn't be able to live with me and my outsized ego.

An unexpected bonus from a squally sail up the coast of Guadeloupe - the most spectacular double rainbow either of us has ever seen

May 9, 2010 - Ile des Saintes, Guadeloupe

Ile des Saintes, a small group of islands on the south side of Guadeloupe, were a favorite stop of ours the last time we came through the islands. It was one of the only places from last time through that we knew we were going to return to as we worked our way up the chain. We had an easy morning sail up from Dominica, and anchored off of Pain de Sucre, a 200-foot high mini-piton, just before lunch. We spent the afternoon snorkeling and enjoying the scene. In the water I spotted two octopus and a puffer fish. I kept trying to get the puffer to puff, but then I realized that it must be the most harassed fish in the Caribbean, so I left it alone. We were pretty content and tempted to spend the evening on board, but when we realized that it was Saturday night, we decided to get off our lazy bums and dinghy into town.

Bourg des Saints is a charming Gallic town. The narrow lanes are lined with colorful old houses, topped with red roofs, trimmed with gingerbread and filled with boutiques, galleries and restaurants that cater to the tourists who arrive daily on ferries from the mainland. Tucked between the shops are family homes. Kids on bikes swerve between the knots of sunburned, window-shopping vacationers. Any time of day there is bound to be someone out and about.

We joined the families and tourists strolling around town, and made our way to a bar that we remembered fondly from our last time here. The customers at the Coconut Bar are an entertaining mix. Between the rastas, vacationers, yachties, and local families, the place always seems to be busy. As we arrived the song "I've got a feeling" was blasting from the speakers. That ditty really has staying power. It was in high rotation on the local radio stations the whole time we were driving around South Africa last winter. Since we arrived back in the Caribbean, we've heard it on every island. Though we must say that our favorite rendition was performed on steel drums in Barbados.

January 20, 2007 Iles des Saintes, Guadeloupe

Happy Birthday Alena and Suzy!

We didn’t have really high hopes that we’d find a bar here showing the Pats game, but we gave it a shot anyway.

I’ve apparently been spending too much time talking to nobody but Sten. I spent a good hour in a bar the other night attempting to discuss the French political structure as it related the governance of France’s overseas territories with a very patient Frenchman. It was, how do you say, painful? At least it was for his girlfriend and Sten as they listened to our conversation.

We had dinner one night at a local spot and enjoyed fried little balls of okra and some tasty blood sausage - now there are three words that you don’t see together that often.

As we wandered all over the island, we eventually found ourselves at a fort overlooking the harbor. It was crawling with giant iguanas. On our way back into town we passed a big blue iguana sunning itself on top of a wall, about a foot from anyone walking by on the side of the road. They look kind of like dragons, and it was a bit startling to find ourselves so close to one.

Lenore has taken to lounging on our map of the Eastern Caribbean. She seems to be asking “Where next?” I think if we could explain it to her, she would be relieved to know that she will be flying home from the Grenadines with Suzy.

January 19, 2007 - Antigua to Guadeloupe

Jolly Good. After a few days of hanging out in English Harbor, enjoying museums, a laundry, bookstores, roti stands and pizzerias, it was time to make tracks. We had a stunning sail down to Guadeloupe from Antigua: perfect tradewind sailing, 15 - 20 knots across the beam, easy line of sight navigation with Antigua behind us, a smoldering Montserrat to starboard, and Guadeloupe dead ahead. It was easily the best day of sailing that we've had on Mata'irea. And I was finally smart enough to remember to take a Stugeron before we left, so that I could enjoy the whole thing.

We’re anchored in Deshaies. We met a couple from Vancouver who had come to Guadeloupe to practice their French. They are the first non-cruiser tourists that we’ve talked to in weeks. And they were kind enough to lead us over to the grocery, where we stocked up on cheese, yogurt and baguettes. When the folks from Vancouver asked us how long we planned to do this, we experienced, for the first time since leaving Boston, that old familiar look of stunned confusion as they wrapped their minds around the idea of living on a boat for several years.

We spent our only full day in this harbor visiting a botanical garden with tropical plants from all over the world. As we looked at the species labels we thought about all the places that we are going to visit over the next few years. Even beyond the borders of the garden, the island is full of flowing plants and hummingbirds feasting on flowering trees. The lush landscape is so different than the rather arid islands that we’ve visited so far.

At sundown on each of the two nights that we spent in this harbor, a man on a swiss-flagged catamaran heralded the sunset by playing taps on one of those long (approximately 10 feet) horns that you see in the Riccola commercials. It was a hauntingly beautiful sound. The anchorage did not acknowledge the performance on either night. Maybe everyone was just letting the sound wash over them.