Sunday, Jan.21, 2001 Hi guys, I visited the local witch doctor who gave me a blood test and prescribed an immediate infusion of pate and cheap red wine, so we sailed up to Martinique with friends on their catamaran to take the cure. The passage from Rodney Bay, St. Lucia to Marin, Martinique was an easy close reach with 3 to 5 foot seas and blue trade wind skies with breezes around 10 to 13 knots. The passage is only about 22 miles but the Royal Cape is not what you would describe as light on her keels so it took us about 5 hours to get there. We had a bit of trouble getting the hook to set, but after a couple of tries got it to stick. Later the wind shifted to the South and we swung perilously close to another cat and so upped hook and reanchored elsewhere. As usual the check in at customs was painless, quick and efficient. In fact on orders from on high the officials there would not even stamp our passports, which made us wonder what problems this might cause us on our return. After checking in the first order of business was taking our friends on a walking tour of the small town, getting some francs from a bank machine, and stocking up on wine, cheese, pate, baguettes, deli meats and fruit. After a quick brunch at a sidewalk cafe we returned to the boat and had the usual gastronomic orgy the French Islands can provide. Anybody remember the eating scene from the movie “Tom Jones”? It was like that. After a day or two of this we changed the scene of the feast to Anse Mitan. This gave us a chance after clearing the harbour to set the cruising chute on the cat, and because the wind followed us around we were able to carry it all but the last couple of miles when we approached the anchorage and took it down. Under cruising chute alone In 13 knots gusting to 17, the best we could do was 7 knots. As cats go, less than blinding performance, but then this is a big cat, displacing around 40,000 pounds all up, including 500 gallons of water and 250 gallons of fuel. We anchored south of the ferry dock in about 15 feet of water in good holding sand. Ferry wakes caused some rocking, but ended around 7:00 p.m., and since we were off the boat pretty well all day everyday, we weren’t bothered. We explored the town and found the shortest path to the restaurants and shopping area was along the nude beach. I can imagine your surprise. This walk demonstrated several truths: (a) French culture, as Mark Twain noted, is not concerned with trifles. ( it is however concerned with truffles - B.P.) (b) Tan fat looks better than white fat. (c) Nudity is best practiced by the young and foolish, and sadly, I’m no longer young. We took the opportunity to send our friends some French post cards(!) and I suggested this summary of Martinique for She Who Must Be Obeyed to write on them to torment our friends: Sunny skies, Starry nights, Warm seas, Good food, Cheap wine,Trade wind breeze, White sand beach, Naked women swimming, Life’s a reach, and then you gibe. Any questions? Living well, as they say, is the best revenge, and if you can’t annoy your friends, who can you annoy? Martinique is a compartment of France and has all on offer that a first world European nation can provide, so shopping was part of the order of the day. This involved taking the ferry to Fort de France and a bus to the hypermarche. Think very large shopping mall. What I found surprising was all of the designing that has gone into common household appliances, ranging from a ‘30’s retro look to post modern. They were not cheap. When did this design revolution happen? Living aboard takes one out of the loop of what is fashionable. We could envision yuppies and dinks rushing out to get the latest toaster and vacuum designs. This only emphasized the lesson we have learned, that living on board teaches us not how much we need, but how little we use. Like simple sailors everywhere, we were much bemused by this latest useless fashion trend. Finally the time came for us to leave our friends and return to St. Lucia, which we did by taking the L’Express ferry, a large power catamaran. Since I’m paranoid about missing connections we took an early ferry from Anse Matin to Fort de France and walked the few blocks to the international ferry dock. We made the ferry in plenty of time. Boarding didn’t start until 4:30 and the 5:00 p.m. boat left right on time at 5:47. Although it was difficult to judge from the ferry I would say seas were running about 6 to 8 feet. It was rougher around the headlands of both islands and it seemed seas were about 8 to 10 feet. Even the ferry was pounding and shuddering through them. When it took one or two on the beam the motion was remarkable for a boat that size. Seas were not very large, but it made for a rough passage because of the boat’s speed, one women screaming every time the boat hit a big wave. The motion was uncomfortable and we were surprised people didn’t get sick. It had taken us about 11 hours all told to sail to Anse Mitan but the return trip took about an hour and twenty minutes, dock to dock. On another note, the en route movie was an original Japanese Jackie Chan movie dubbed into French. Part way through the dubbing switched to English. How’s that for a cultural experience? Customs in Castries was like something out of a World War II refugee movie. Pandemonium reigned supreme with people, children and baggage strewn everywhere, people rushing around trying to get their boxes, kids and bags together. There must be some sort of wholesale discount warehouse place in Martinique, because we saw people carrying cheap household goods like mops, plastic containers, kids toys, etc. that you wouldn’t think would be worth the hassle getting to St. Lucia. On the other hand, the actual process once you reached the customs officer and exchanged pleasantries was painless: “ How much wine and alcohol did you bring from Martinique? Three bottles of wine. Is that all? Yes. O.K., you can go.” So much for our worries about not having a visa stamp from Martinique. It was interesting to note that the police were right outside the customs office door, no doubt to deter any snatch and run thieves. We walked the few blocks to the bus stand, caught a bus right away which drove right into the marina and dropped us off by the dock. We dumped the stuff on to The Legend and went back to the marina restaurant for a bite to eat (quality has improved) and then fell into our bunk to sleep the sleep of the truly pooped. Next chapter, how I go on a fruit and veggie diet while waiting like a python for the swelling to go down. Fair winds and following seas, Brian Pickton, Aboard the Legend, Rodney Bay, St. Lucia