Damn Deshaies (Guadaloupe)

It is Sunday March 4th. We are in Deshaies, Guadaloupe. Yesterday at Les Saintes, after some of the crew hiked to the fort, we got underway, stopped off at the Cousteau Marine Park near Pigeon Island Guadaloupe, then boogied farther down the West coast to arrive in Deschaies before dark --about 33nm total.

Street vendor spices in Bourg des Saintes, Terre de Haut, Les Saintes, oo lah lah.

I have to say, the west coast of Guadaloupe is beautiful to pass but does not provide a single decent harbor. It was an easy crossing of the Guadaloupe Channel and there was almost no wind in the lee of Guadaoupe. So we motored into the bight on the coast opposite Pigeon Island, and as planned, anchored and snorkeled along a reef on the northern shore. This is part of the Cousteau Marine Park and there were dive boats and people snorkeling in many places around area. A few green turtles popped up for air around the boat. Jim and I saw many Sargent Major fish, a few small barracuda and perhaps a dozen other species of small brightly colored fish. The coral appeared to be a bit healthier than in St. John. But overall it was pretty sparse (due I understand to rising ocean temperatures). IMHO the snorkeling in Christmas Cove and Mahoe Bay in the USVI was much more impressive. I had a bad feeling about the exposure and the reef to leeward, so decided not to spend the night there. Nine more motoring miles and we were in Deshaies (pronounced Day-hay).

Deshaies. What can I say. It sucks. At least the part of it that I could experience out in the small bay. As promised by the cruising guide, and just like Fort De France (another evil place for boaters), the wind funnels out of the mountains and pounds the bay with sustained 25-30, gusting 32-40 knots. Through the evening, most of the night and into mid-afternoon today, boats were dragging anchor and trying to reanchor in a better spot. We didn’t drag with the 55 lb delta plus 100’ of chain plus 50’ of nylon (megaplait) rode in the water. As I’ve said before, I could kiss this Vesper WatchMate 850 electronic anchor watch. It alarmed at least four times overnight as we swung around and stretched the rhode. It’s been on for days.

An American-flagged 49 foot Nordhaven trawler that was next to us in Pigeon Island was blown out of the anchorage at Pigeon Island this morning. They saw us on AIS in Deshaies and called us for a report on the VHF. They anchored in behind us and reported that as bad as we had it here, they had it worse at Pigeon Island. At least here the only shore to our lee is hundreds of miles away. After a very close call trying to set the anchor in bad holding with a reef to leeward in Tres Islets Martinique, we’ve learned to choose our anchorages well.

This morning after a particularly mean blast of wind (that I recorded on RNS to be 40 knots), we got a call on the VHF from the Dutch boat next to us. My 9’ Avon inflatable dinghy had flipped upside-down. Sure enough, the propeller on the little 3hp outboard was pointed toward the sky. The seat drifted off with the whitecaps. I had to restrain Emily from diving off the boat and swimming after it. “That’s what swim team is for, dad.” Damn Deshaies! It was secured close astern in the middle of the transom so we didn’t notice it. Fortunately our observant neighbor had called us right away. We righted it, put the engine on the stern pulpit, and flushed everything. After removing the spark plug and other parts, pulling it through to eject the salt water in the cylinders, using lots of WD40, letting it dry, Pete got it started. Now it runs better than before. Pete said he’d only charge me for tune-up. (Just kidding.)

Pete the Drowned Outboard Mechanic

Around 3pm the wind suddenly dropped to 10 knots and Pete, Jim, Sharon and Emily jumped in the dinghy and ran in to see the botanical garden. I felt compelled to stand watch, wondering if this evil harbor will flip the wind switch back on at any moment. Windy forecast or not, tomorrow we are outa-hee-ah, bound for Antigua.