Nice Cruising January 2010

January 12, 2010 St. Martin

I had a great time in St. Barts. Zipping around the island having coffee and things at upscale hotels and resorts, going to the beaches of course, exploring little-known underground caves with stalactites and stalagmites (forgot my camera), snorkeling, catching octopus, and hanging out with Andy and Veronique - thanks guys!

I then sailed on to St. Martin, having completing my solo trip up from Grenada. It was good to see friends and catch up on everything here. Christine flew in as well, and we have been making our plans for her near future, and for mine as we are wrapping up things and going in different directions. We will both probably still be working on things here for a few months, and then move along. We have accomplished everything we set out to do and more, and this adventure is coming to an end, so we can go on new ones.

We just got another dinghy, so that we each have one, as we are both busy with our own things. We bought an Avon 8' hypalon dinghy, and then I bought my perfect outboard: A 15HP Honda 4-stroke. Our 8HP went on Christine's dinghy, and the Honda I put on our 10.5' AB. Christine zips around very fast as her dinghy and her are both light, and my Honda is a monster and I have the perfect GoFast lagoon dinghy.

Christine is now working as a bartender at the very popular Lagoonie's - our good friend Eli's bar. She is happy and doing very well there.

Me, I am doing powerboat charters and interesting jobs as they come up, along with my other long term projects. Tomorrow, I am going with a friend on a sail to Guadeloupe or Antigua - it depends on the wind.

Ciao

January 26, 2010 St. Martin

Back from my trip. My friend Terry and I went on his boat, a 41' Beneteau - Natural Magic, to Antigua and Barbuda. I caught four tunas , we explored the north side of Antigua, toured around inland by bus, etc.

We cleared out of the country in Barbuda. Wow! That was the most retarded of all of my customs experiences here in the islands. Barbuda is well known for it's spectacular beaches and turquoise waters . Gorgeous. Only trouble is that some of the natives are either way too antagonizing, or way too lazy, or way too drunk. Let me explain:

First, we pull up to a miles-long white stretch of beach with no one around. Before we can drop anchor, several locals pop over a sand ridge separating a lagoon from the ocean . They are screaming at us and jumping around like lunatics, arms flailing in the air like tribal warriors doing a violent war dance. Ignoring them, we waited an hour for them to leave, then finally dingyed ashore. To get to the village, Codrington, you have to pull your dinghy over the sand ridge a short distance to the lagoon and dinghy over. Once in the lagoon, we were intercepted by an inbred mongrel, screaming and spitting in his own personal language. He was on a powerboat and blocked our way, circled us throwing his wake, screaming the entire time. He wanted money from us, and we basically told him to F*#* OFF.

Once safely landed in the village, we found out that to clear out you go to, first, the port authority, then customs, then immigration. They strategically located these "offices" at the extreme opposite corners of the village. At the port authority, we had them call customs as we found out that the "authorities" don't really keep their offices open very much and it can be hard to locate them, AND, customs was located at some guys' house. Verifying he was home, and that we were on our way, we set off. Ten minutes later, at his little customs house , we found he was not there. Apparently, he ran out of beer, and HAD to get to the bar, we found out later. We thought he was home as he knew we were coming, his shoes were at the doorstep, and the TV was on full-blast inside. I opened the door and looked inside. Here is what I found: . Customs forms strewn about, empty beer bottles and trash everywhere. Now I know what they really do with the "official" paperwork. So now we are on a manhunt. We walked all around the village asking for the customs guy. The description we were looking for was, a young, lighter-skinned black guy, riding a bike, no shoes on, and likely drunk. We finally found him - at the bar! He rode over to immigration to check us out, but forgot his paperwork, his stamp, his shoes, 95% of the English language, and his role as "Customs Officer". With the help of Immigration (thank you) we did his job for him, so he could get back to the bar to meet his friends. And that was most of our day in Barbuda.