Oh La La – Marie Galante

 

Maria waiting for the sunset anchored at Marie Galante, Guadeloupe on Savannah Sky

Waiting for the sunset over Îles des Saintes, Guadeloupe

Kalinago and slave sacred burial ground near L'Anse à l'Âne, Martinique

l’Abricot view from our mooring in Fort de France, Martinique

Happy Hour on Cat Tales with Charlie and Anina (Prism)

A great dinghy dock with locking rings at Marie Galante, Guadeloupe.  Other islands should be so nice as providing this kind of nice dinghy dock.

A busy street in Saint Louis, Marie Galante, Guadeloupe

Life is just a tire swing at Saint Louis, Marie Galante, Guadeloupe

 

A nice bike race on Marie Galante.  The French come over from mainland Guadeloupe because there is no traffic here and the roads are also pretty flat!

A typical Ox cart on the streets in Saint Louis, Marie Galante, Guadeloupe, going to pick up a load of sugar cane.

Maria practicing her coffee handling skills on Savannah Sky.  She doesn’t want to lose her touch, ha ha.

Our anchorage at Saint Louis, Marie Galante, Guadeloupe.  9 years ago, there were 5 boats in this anchorage.  Today there are probably 50 boats, mainly French of course.

S/Y Savannah Sky – March 9, 2025 – Log #23

Savannah Sky Position: 15 degrees 57’ N, 61 degrees 19’ W

Marie Galante, Guadeloupe, Caribbean

 

Oh La La – Marie Galante

 

It has been 9 years since we first sailed to Marie Galante, a small round island off the south coast of Guadeloupe, where we are now.

 

Columbus would still recognize this peaceful island where oxen pull carts and clomp down deserted streets carrying loads of sugar cane. 

 

Columbus was here in 1493 and chose the name Marie Galante because he had run out of saintly names, so the story goes.

 

March has arrived in the tropics with puffy white clouds that ride through a deep blue azure sky on these Caribbean Trade Winds like sails upon the ocean.

 

Our long time sailing friends have scattered far and wide now, leaving Maria and I to ourselves at anchor among the French boats here.

 

We have a lot of time to reflect during these endless tropical days.

 

Some of our fellow sailors are heading north, some south, yet all heading for their eventual resting place for another upcoming hurricane season in the tropics.

 

It has been an interesting sailing season this year, as always.  There have been lunches, dinners, happy hours, hikes, making new friends, dreams and oh so much more with our fellow adventurous sailors.

 

“We’ve mingled with the good people we meet, yeah
Good friends we have had, oh, good friends we've lost along the way, yeah
In this great future you can't forget your past
So dry your tears I say, yeah” – Thanks Bob Marley

 

Soon, we too will sail Savannah Sky further north to Antigua and the nice boatyard at Jolly Harbour for hurricane season. 

 

Our insurance company tells us where and IF we can store Savannah Sky inside the hurricane box, helping us make the proper decision.  This year they said yes to Antigua.

 

Maria and I decided we wanted to take a break from the more basic/rustic and hotter southern Caribbean Island of Grenada where we usually store Savannah Sky for hurricane season.

 

We’ve stayed in Antigua with “Aspen” during hurricane season before and the location suits our decision this year, along with the blessing of our insurance company, luckily.

 

We’ve still got a lot of water to sail this season but the finish line is definitely getting closer.   

 

Sometimes I feel like a tire swinging in the breeze, living it day to day with the promise of tomorrow and a bright sunshiny day, I remind myself.

 

I’ve yet to find that African parakeet to teach him how to cuss, teach him how to fuss and pull a cork out of a bottle of wine though.

 

Sail on, sail on Savannah Sky…

Bonjour la Martinique!

 

Leaving St. Lucia and the spectacular Pitons

A copy of an ancient Zemi.  Of course it was damaged during the latest French protests two months ago, for some odd reason.  Ah the French.

Deep inside a bay in Le Marin

Maria enjoying sightseeing in Le Marin via our dinghy

A sailing ship in Le Marin after what must have been a pretty rough passage

And then there was the Starlink dish I attached to Savannah Sky (the little rectactangle flat white thing next to our man overboard pole.  Our link to the outside world just got much much better with high speed internet!

A fun lunch with sailor friends in Ste. Anne, Martinique on the beach.  How about these for some boat names: Island Spirit, Lover of the Light, Elysium and Sirena.

S/Y Savannah Sky – February 11, 2025 – Log #22

Savannah Sky Position: 14 degrees 26’ N, 60 degrees 53’ W

Le Marin, Martinique, Caribbean

 

Bonjour la Martinique!

 

Since I’ve lived to be an old man
I’ll sail down to Martinique
I'm gonna buy me a sweat-stained Bogart suit
And an African parakeet
And then I'll sit him on my shoulder
And open up my trusty old mind
I’m gonna teach him how to cuss, teach him how to fuss
And pull the cork out of a bottle of wine

(modified from, who else, but Jimmy Buffett)

 

It’s great to be back in Martinique: the land of baguettes, French wine and cheeses.

 

It was a blustery sail from St. Lucia to Martinique, and as always, an eventful one.

 

We had both our genoa and mainsail reefed because of the 25 knot winds and large seas during the journey.  About half way across the windiest stretch of open water our furling line that holds the genoa at about half its size (reefed) decided to break.  With a loud pop, out went the entire genoa giving us a nice increase in speed but not what we needed in strong winds.

 

Without a furling line there was no way to decrease the size of the genoa so we just sailed on until we could drop the genoa in less boisterous conditions behind the lee of Martinique.  It’s always something it seems.

 

We’ve replaced the furling line in Martinique so all is well now and ready for the next adventure at sea.

 

Le Marin, Martinique is the Yachting Center of the Caribbean, for the French.  Massive catamarans line the docks or are tied to mooring balls throughout the well protected bay. 

 

Sailboats, like Savannah Sky, and smaller catamarans are for sailors and those of us who spend seasons or longer on the water in these little latitudes and who like to sail.

 

One could easily spend an entire sailing season here in Martinique.  There are so many anchorages to visit and sights to see, like world famous rum distilleries. 

 

Maria and I wonder why the French fly here from Euroland, jump on a massive catamaran and bash their way south, past Bequia, while never enjoying what Martinique has to offer.  It’s a strange world out there sometimes.

 

Savannah Sky is calmly attached to a highly-sought-after mooring ball in Le Marin’s Bay.

 

Getting a mooring ball in the heart of this Yachting Center is like winning the lottery it seems.  An online portal is used to request a mooring.  Then the response is received – No. 

 

So we try again and again and again, requesting a mooring ball.  Much of this is done in French of course.

 

With more than a lot of persistence and luck we finally received a reply, “Voilà” 

We were accepted!

 

We spend our days tied to this mooring ball, watching the antics of passing charter catamarans the size of condos jockeying for position at the fuel dock.  After all, it takes a lot of diesel fuel to motor, not sail, to neighboring islands.

 

Hundreds of tall masts crowd our horizon during the day in Martinique while sunset brings a new world to us.

 

A bit of Ti Punch, baguette, cheese, chocolate and some island music are all we need to count the falling stars in the night sky.

 

As Jimmy said, it’s also time to get that African parakeet and open up my trusty old mind, while I can still remember…

 

Sail on, sail on Savannah Sky…

St. Lucia

 

Savannah Sky in a berth at Rodney Bay Marina, St. Lucia

 Maria cooking up a 3-pound lobster in Bequia, along with some bacon ends

Our friends Hayden and Radeen on “Island Spirit” (Island Packet 35)

More friends: George and June on “Fathom This” and Maria (missing Hugh who took the picture) on “White Pearl”

Fishermen in Bequia with a great catch of three Yellow Fin Tuna (137 lbs, 138 lbs and 137 pounds).  Some say the fishermen just earned enough money for a new house.

Stag beer.  Trinidad advertising claims “It’s a Man’s beer.  But women like it too.”

S/Y Savannah Sky – February 8, 2025 – Log #21

Savannah Sky Position: 14 degrees 05’ N, 60 degrees 57’ W

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia, Caribbean

 

St. Lucia

 

After spending a month in Sweet Bequia it was time to set sail once again.

 

Leaving Bequia’s harbor at 1:30 am was quite a challenge because of all the unlit sailboats and ferries blocking our exit.  It seems seamanship has been lost at sea these days.

 

Luckily our engine started, more about that later, and we sailed into the black of night along the west coast of surly St. Vincent.

 

The volcano at the north end of St. Vincent is always something to dread.  Many sailing vessels have been damaged, dismasted and sunk in this treacherous stretch of water due to confused winds and seas.  The volcano rules everything around it including the sea.

 

Savannah Sky leapt through tumultuous waves as strong trade winds filled her sails.

 

There was green water flying across our deck as Savannah Sky’s bow knifed through the towering sea.

 

Luckily our windlass was already non-functional as more salt water could not cause any more damage with the anchor bubbling underwater.

 

Daylight come and we just wanted to be in the lee of St. Lucia, taking shelter from wind and waves.

 

The picturesque St. Lucia Pitons cast long shadows across our sails as the sun rose in the east. 

 

Winds always shift behind da islands and sailors rely on engine power to make their way up and down these leeward coasts.  Savannah Sky’s engine purred like a well-trained kitten pushing us further north towards Rodney Bay, St. Lucia.

 

Ah the engine story…

 

We arrived into Rodney Bay Marina and docked in a nice slip without any drama.  I switched the engine off once we were safely secured and ready for some rest.

 

I decided to restart the engine to check something and guess what?  The engine was dead.  Dead, as in DEAD.

 

Luckily, we managed to escape Bequia in the dark of night before our engine decided to take a rest.

 

It only took two weeks to get the mysterious hidden part to fix the blasted engine.  It seems we have a secondary solenoid that is necessary to start our engine, unbeknownst to Captain Steve.  Several hundred dollars later we had the part, repaired the engine and even got a new windlass installed and functional.  Ah, life at the dock is always filled with a long list of repairs, maintenance items and of course happy hour after happy hour with oh so many sailor friends in St. Lucia.

 

St. Lucia’s Rodney Bay has become a mecca for sailors we have met throughout the years down in the Caribbean.  It is always like coming home when we arrive here.

 

Restaurants, bars and even a gelato place line the “Boardwalk”, beckoning sailors to imbibe, visit with like-minded adventurers and even make new friends.

 

The southern Windward Islands tend to be the more remote and undeveloped part of the Eastern Caribbean.  Yet Rodney Bay gives sailors a chance to experience what lies ahead, to the north, with much sought after amenities we all seek, like modern well-stocked grocery stores!

 

Sail on, sail on Savannah Sky…

 

Christmas in the Caribbean

 

                                        Our Christmas picture from Spring, Bequia, St. Vincent

   Patty and Maria enjoying Savannah Sky

 

Bequia hiking group to Cinnamon Park with St. Vincent in the background: Chis and Hilary, Patty, Maria, Maria, Dawn, Steve and Laurie with the florescent headdress.
 

Bequia anchorage at night with Christmas light everywhere

Palm trees at Spring Bay, Bequia

The sailing fleet anchored in Admiralty Bay, Bequia, St. Vincent for the holidays

137 pounds of yellow fin tuna, plus 2 more identical ones, just caught by local fishermen in Bequia

Spa Day at the Plantation, Bequia for Maria and Patty

Christmas Parrot on Savannah Sky

Sailboat umbilical cords at Port Louis Marina.  If you don’t disconnect, you never leave the dock.

Savanna Sky at Port Louis Marina, Grenada

Port Louis Marina, St. George’s, Grenada with the Fort in the distance

Dawn, Maria, Maria, Hugh, Laurie and Steve in Grenada

Grenada hike to the Friday BBQ at the Grenada Yacht Club.  Maria, Dawn, Maria, Steve and Laurie

S/Y Savannah Sky – December 24, 2024 – Log #20

Savannah Sky Position: 13 degrees 00’ N, 61 degrees 15’ W

Bequia, St. Vincent, Caribbean

 

Christmas in the Caribbean

 

Launching Savannah Sky into the blue Caribbean Sea in Grenada is always stressful.  Will she float?  What gremlins might appear that we have to find and eradicate quickly?

 

Ah, it is a sailboat so the unexpected becomes the expected, or so it seems.

 

Putting Savannah Sky back in order at Port Louis Marina was hot hot hot.  There isn’t much breeze in the bay and our heat tolerance had to built-up once again.

 

Our days were spent cleaning, fixing, putting sails on, checking all systems and going over our trusty engine and generator making sure things worked as expected.

 

Then there were day hikes with our friends, Dawn and Laurie on their catamaran Cat Tales to grocery stores and restaurants.  New friends Hugh and Maria, also from New Brunswick, Canada on their 56-foot massive power boat White Pearl, brightened up our days in the steamy tropics.

 

Because a sailing rally called the ARC+ with 96 boats was due to arrive in the Marina, we had no choice but to sail away before we were really ready.  But plan B is always lurking in our minds down in these little latitudes.

 

We bashed our way north from Grenada to Carriacou in lively conditions.  Carriacou was essentially destroyed when category 5 hurricane Beryl leveled the island in July of this year.  Destruction is everywhere with what were houses and businesses completely gone.

 

As we attempted to anchor in Carriacou’s Tyrell Bay, taking care to avoid any debris on the seabed from the hurricane, our trusty anchor lowering system, a windlass, decided to self-destruct leaving over 100 pounds of anchor and stainless-steel chain uselessly dangling in the clear water.

 

Thinking quickly (ha ha), we remember there were untrustworthy moorings scattered about the bay that might hold us in place for a day.  Grabbing a mooring, we secured Savannah Sky before working on our wayward half deployed anchor.

 

The windlass itself was beyond repair and unworkable.  So Captain Steve had to retrieve the 90 pound anchor and associated chain lifting by hand.  How difficult could that be?

 

Yeow.  Luckily no fingers were lost in the process. 

 

Dropping our mooring ball at dawn the next day, it was more bashing north to Sweet Bequia and another mooring ball due to our wayward windlass.

Maria’s long-time nursing friend Patty flew into St. Vincent where we met her at the ferry dock and escorted her back to Bequia and a waiting Savannah Sky for her 11-day sojourn on the warm Caribbean sea in the tropics. 

 

It was fun having a guest on Savannah Sky, something we hardly ever do.  Patty was the perfect guest: meeting and partying with all our sailor friends, hiking, drinking, wandering around Bequia, drinking, eating, drinking, swimming, spa day, massages and oh so much more.

 

Christmas in Bequia is always very special with sailors from every point of the globe gathering for these festivities and trying to party like the locals.  It simply doesn’t get any better than this.

 

Here’s wishing all our family and friends a very Merry Christmas!

 

Sail on, sail on Savannah Sky…