Four Engineers on a Boat and Our First Taste of France

At 10:00am on Nov 19^th, the Simpson Bay bridge opened and we entered the Lagoon in St Martin. We had just sailed the Anegada Passage without any issues. We were exhausted, but excited to welcome aboard our first overnight guests, Michelle and Steve. Checking in was a breeze and customs didn’t even ask about the pups. We had finally made it! Now it was time to meet up with our friends and start exploring this new island.

During their visit, Michelle and Steve learned a lot about sailing and the cruising lifestyle. I believe they walked away with a very good understanding of what our daily life is like. Some days are picture perfect and we find ourselves in awe of the beautiful scenery and magical underwater life. Other days are brutally uncomfortable and we feel like nothing is going our way. I think that they would agree that cruising on a sailboat is a lot of hard work, but it is also incredibly rewarding.

St. Martin

St. Martin is unique in that it is actually two countries. The northern half is French (Saint Martin) and the southern half is Dutch (Sint Maarten). Despite the island’s relatively small size, the difference between the two sides couldn’t be more apparent. The Dutch side is built up and westernized. It’s known for its casinos, nightlife, cruise ships, and shopping (especially jewelry). The French side is quieter and quainter. It’s known for its French cuisine, cafes, bakeries, and nude beaches. Once clearing into one side, travelers are free to cross the border without any restrictions.

In the Simpson Bay Lagoon, you don’t need a map to determine where the Dutch side ends and the French side begins. The landscape makes it very obvious. On the Dutch side, you’ll find megastores, marinas, and fancy condos. On the French side, you’ll only find a handful of small shops. The Simpson Bay Lagoon is very well protected and with access to the largest chandleries we’ve seen in the Caribbean, it’s an excellent place to complete boat projects. But with our friends aboard, we were ready to explore the island, so we left the Lagoon the following day. But not after we scooped up one of our best cruiser finds yet. As we were dinghying back to our boat Sunday morning, we found a case of Carib beer and a 12-pack of Coke just floating in the Lagoon, ready for the taking. It was like bobbing for apples as we plucked the cans out of the water. Our day was off to a good start.

We spent the day snorkeling and swimming in the clear, turquoise water on Tintamarre island. Afterwards, we decided to anchor behind nearby Ile Pinel (across from Orient Bay) for a couple of nights. Ile Pinel is a gorgeous green, hilly island with a white sand beach and a couple of beach bars. The island is covered in footpaths and has a dinghy dock, making it an excellent place to explore with the dogs. There’s a nice snorkeling trail, where we saw colorful coral and plenty of sea life. It’s also here where the baguette delivery boat lives. Don’t be fooled by the ice cream sign, the boat also delivers ice and baguettes to boats in the anchorage in the mornings. Hiking trails for the dogs, a white sandy beach to gaze out on, an underwater world to explore, and French baguettes and croissants delivered to our boat—it didn’t take long for us to fall madly in love with the French islands.

The next day, we ventured ashore to explore the area. We didn’t want to beach the dinghy in front of an umbrella and beach chair lined resort, so we traveled all the way down Orient Beach looking for a dinghy dock. We finally found a floating dock on the southernmost part of the beach. Unbeknownst to us at the time, we were docking our dinghy at Club Orient, the nudist resort. I think it’s wonderful that people feel free enough to swim, sunbath, and even eat lunch at the cafe wearing only their birthday suits. But the four of us felt very out of place when we stepped off our dinghy fully clothed and wearing backpacks. We tried to avoid the beach by walking out to the dirt road behind it. However, we were quickly stopped and informed that we were not allowed on the resort property unless we were staying there (how do you think they could tell we weren’t staying there?). So, we were forced to walk by the dozens and dozens of nude sunbathers with our heads down, trying desperately not to look like we were gawking. For the first time ever, people were giving us the evil eye for wearing too many clothes. Rob said it’s the most he’s ever felt like a tourist while traveling and we all agreed.

After exiting the nudist resort, we stuffed ourselves with croissants and crepes and then walked to the St. Martin Butterfly Farm. The farm has hundreds of colorful butterflies from all over the world. Many of them weren’t the least bit shy and would rest on our arms and shoulders. It made me feel like Cinderella, but Rob was the real favorite–probably from all the whiskey he was sweating out. The butterfly farm was incredibly peaceful and we had a good time picking and pointing out our favorites.

The following day we ventured down to Philipsburg, the capital city of Sint Maarten (Dutch side). This is where the cruise ships dock, but there weren’t any present the day we visited. The town appeared very sleepy. We did a little shopping and visited the Guavaberry Rum Emporium (which is really just a store where they give you a couple free samples). There were plenty of shops and restaurants, but the city lacked the charm of the French side. We decided to leave first thing in the morning (Nov 23^rd) for Ile Fourche (St. Barts).

St. Barts

Of all the anchorages that we visited with Michelle and Steve, Ile Fourche was my favorite. The dry and rocky, uninhabited island is located between St. Martin and St. Barts. Though it lacks a white sandy beach like many of the anchorages, it’s steep red cliffs and bright green grass make it breathtaking. We hiked the steep hills, snorkeled the rocky shoreline, and celebrated Thanksgiving on this island. The turkey we had bought in St. Martin had thawed and now it was time to see if it fit in the gallery oven. Turns out…just barely. Whew.

It was a breezy day in the anchorage, which was nice because the galley oven heated the cabin for 3 hours while the turkey cooked. To keep with American traditions (and because we wanted the boat to cool off before we went to sleep) we had our Thanksgiving dinner at 3pm in the afternoon. Earlier in the day, we found a picnic table and benches tucked away in the brush. We pulled them out onto the beach, making the island’s steep hills our backdrop. We packed up all the Thanksgiving goodies (turkey, green beans, stuffing, mash potatoes, gravy, cookies, and wine), put on our least saltiest clothes, and took the dinghy to shore to celebrate. Rain threatened to interrupt our meal, but the weather held off and after dinner we watched a gorgeous sunset. I’ve had some pretty fabulous Thanksgiving dinners in the past, but this is one we will always remember. We are so grateful that we were able to share it with friends.

Michelle and Steve had been on the boat for a week and things were going smoothly. We spent our days snorkeling and our evenings sipping cocktails and playing games in the cockpit. However, our luck would soon start to run out. After two nights on Ile Fourche we sailed to Gustavia, St. Barts and we were immediately overwhelmed by all of the big beautiful megayachts. Once we anchored, the four of us piled into the dinghy to check in and explore the town. We were low on water, so we also brought along our four jerry cans to fill.

Again, checking in with the pups was a breeze and water was available right outside the customs office. Rob was filling the jerry cans when suddenly the dinghy’s front tube went completely flat. The sun would be setting soon and here we were almost a mile from our boat (and our dogs!) with what appeared to be a popped dinghy.

We had recently picked up this dinghy while we were in St Thomas. We had been looking for a 10 foot RIB dinghy for months, but our search hadn’t been successful. A new one would set us back $3,500 and used ones don’t come along frequently. While we were in St. Thomas, we responded to a craigslist ad. The seller was looking to sell a dinghy/motor combo, but only sold the motor. Therefore, he gave us the dinghy for FREE. Sure it was in rough shape, but it held air relatively well and FREE sounded a lot better than $3,500. So, we now have a “new” dinghy.

Among other things, the dinghy is missing valve covers on the inflated tubes. So, when Rob was filling the jerry cans, he must have accidentally set the jerry can up against the valve and deflated the tube. It took us a little while to figure this out, but we eventually realized the issue and got her pumped back up. Crisis averted…well, momentarily anyway. Our outboard motor was starting to give us trouble. For some reason the carburetor was getting gummed up (bad gas maybe?). We weren’t even a quarter of the way back to the boat, when the motor decided to give up for good. It was getting dark and we were stranded in Gustavia Bay. We were too far away from the boat to paddle against the current, so our only hope was to paddle back to the port.

At this point, an extremely nice 20 foot center console RIB (you know, the kind of dinghy that would belong to a megayacht) asked if we needed help. As they were towing us back to Kairos, a jerry can must have pressed up against the air valve again. The dinghy started deflating and we were sinking lower and lower in the water. We quickly realized the issue and corrected it, but I can’t even imagine what those two megayacht crew members must have thought about us. Not only had our outboard failed us, but we were starting to slowly sink down as they towed us along. All we could do was laugh.

We were all very relieved to be out of the dinghy and back aboard Kairos. You would think after such a disaster, we wouldn’t dream of leaving the boat again that night. But Rob quickly disassembled and cleaned the carburetor and we all headed back into town. This time the motor was purring like a kitten. Michelle and Steve treated us to the best meal we’ve eaten in months. It was such a treat that we almost forgot how frustrated and defeated we all felt only a couple of hours ago.

We spent the next two nights in Anse de Colombier on the Northwest side of the island. The huge white sandy beach and crystal clear water makes it a stunning anchorage. I was happy to be is such a beautiful location, because we had something special to celebrate—Michelle’s birthday!

Michelle’s birthday turned out to be one of those picture-perfect days. The kind we dreamt about when we first decided to set off on this adventure. We spent the morning snorkeling in the warm, blue water. In the afternoon, we hiked over the hills for some gorgeous panoramic views and continued to Anse des Flamandes, another beach that rivals Anse de Colombier’s beauty. That evening we feasted on bacon/lobster pasta and celebrated another year of Michelle with macaroons and champagne. Sometimes boat life is amazing.

But where there is ying, there is also yang. As wonderful as Michelle’s birthday turned out, the following day was the exact opposite. We decided to leave the anchorage early, so we could fill up with fuel in Gustavia and be on our way to St. Kitts. Shortly after we pulled up the anchor, the rain started. This wasn’t the typical heavy shower that lasts only a few minutes that we are used to in the Caribbean. This rain was steady and it didn’t let up for the next 24 hours. By the time, we reached the water dock, we looked like drowned rats. After a couple of hours in the pouring rain, our raincoats did little to protect us.

We then learned that the fuel dock was out of commission. So, Steve and Michelle piled our four diesel jerry cans into a taxi and set off for the gas station near the airport while Rob and I anchored the boat. Our quick stop for diesel was turning into a full day ordeal. We would have to set sail for St. Kitts the next day.

It was a wet and frustrating day, but the worst was yet to come. After we dried off and settled in for the evening, we were introduced to the Swell From Hell. A northern swell wrapped its way into the anchorage, causing the boat to bob back and forth aggressively. Looking out at the anchorage, the monohull masts swayed like metronomes. Nothing was safe inside the boat. Drinks were tumbling over, pillows were sliding off the couch, and simply standing up was a core workout. We prayed for the swell to be short lived, but it wasn’t.  It lasted all night. As I laid in bed trying to keep still, it felt as if my insides were swaying with the boat. Needless to say, we all had a sleepless night.

We were up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave Gustavia in our dust. We had a glorious sail to St. Kitts. The sun shined down brightly on us the entire way. For the first time since Puerto Rico, we saw a peak accent into the clouds. Not only were the hills stunning, but I’ve never seen so many different shades of green. We’ve visited some lush green countryside on this trip, but St. Kitts is the greenest island we’ve encountered. We should have been exhausted, but the sea and the excitement of traveling to someplace new rejuvenated us. We caught a few skipjack tuna along the way (only one large enough to keep) and we even saw a pod of dolphins. Boatlife was good again. But where there is ying, there is also yang. Once we anchored and settled in for the evening, we were reunited with our new foe…the Swell From Hell. Sometimes it’s picture perfect and sometimes it’s brutally uncomfortable…that’s boatlife.