Cousteau, Creoles, and few crappy decisions...
Day 4-5: The internet pirates encounter ghosts of Jacque Cousteau at Pigeon Island, just south of Deshaise on the western coast of Guadeloupe. We got out early and beat the snorkeling and dive charters to this nice marine national park. The visibility was great and we snorkeled around the island. Schooling fish, barracudas, an octopus, and countless species of coral and fish. They all seem to know they are protected and basically pay little attention to the on-lookers. It was really nice to be in the water.
Day 6-7: Headed south for New Year’s in Basse Terre. (Pronounced, BA-TER). 25 knots of wind as we tried to pick up this damn mooring ball with a metal ring on top. We screwed up several times, almost destroying Peanut in the process. Mistakes tend to cascade when you are sailing. What worked before doesn’t necessarily apply, and we failed to slow down and think through what we were doing. In the end, no one was lost and we have all our limbs and fingers. Peanut was a bit pissed though as he was pinched between the ball and Iolair when I not so cleverly tied a line to the midship cleat. Since Peanut’s fuel line was the only casualty, we decided we could just row to town. Getting to town was downwind and therefore easy; getting back in stronger winds after dark was scary. The wind wanted to blow us out into the Caribbean Sea. Once again, we failed to really think about the possible problems with our plan. Peanut is not meant for rowing, even on a good day. Never again, and thank you Neptune for giving us a break.
New Year’s Eve was spent at a local Creole restaurant. The place was full of Creole families and our 3 pale faces. They treated us nicely, the food was good, the music was loud, and one little runt street dog kept finding his way into the kitchen only to be chased around the place by the cook and waiter. Picture something half chihuahua and wire terrier. The local kids squealed until the dog was caught in a corner and hauled out by the scruff of the neck. We never saw the stray again.
We did pick up a local SIM card - sort of worked at dial-up speed.
Day 6-7: Headed south for New Year’s in Basse Terre. (Pronounced, BA-TER). 25 knots of wind as we tried to pick up this damn mooring ball with a metal ring on top. We screwed up several times, almost destroying Peanut in the process. Mistakes tend to cascade when you are sailing. What worked before doesn’t necessarily apply, and we failed to slow down and think through what we were doing. In the end, no one was lost and we have all our limbs and fingers. Peanut was a bit pissed though as he was pinched between the ball and Iolair when I not so cleverly tied a line to the midship cleat. Since Peanut’s fuel line was the only casualty, we decided we could just row to town. Getting to town was downwind and therefore easy; getting back in stronger winds after dark was scary. The wind wanted to blow us out into the Caribbean Sea. Once again, we failed to really think about the possible problems with our plan. Peanut is not meant for rowing, even on a good day. Never again, and thank you Neptune for giving us a break.
New Year’s Eve was spent at a local Creole restaurant. The place was full of Creole families and our 3 pale faces. They treated us nicely, the food was good, the music was loud, and one little runt street dog kept finding his way into the kitchen only to be chased around the place by the cook and waiter. Picture something half chihuahua and wire terrier. The local kids squealed until the dog was caught in a corner and hauled out by the scruff of the neck. We never saw the stray again.
We did pick up a local SIM card - sort of worked at dial-up speed.
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