DOWN ISLAND: ST. BARTS , STORM, NATURE

The Picnic

4/10/92 Lat. N 17 54.2' W 62.8' AnseColombier, St. Barthélemy

After anchoring in the pretty bay with its long sandy beach, we went ashore to see if we could find some place to enter the country. We found a trail that led along a cliff, past some rocks and a cave.

The ocean seen from this height was a mixture of blues, from the far off indigo to the blue green close to shore. Toward a point of land to our left, the waves danced and sparkled over the reefs. Breaking the silence and proving the great force of the seemingly calm sea was the deafening noise of the waves breaking on the rocks below.

We reached a village and attempted to ask the shopkeeper where we should go to enter the country. Since we had but a rudimentary knowledge of French, we finally gave it up and hoped that our papers from French St. Martin would suffice for this French Antilles island.

We bought a loaf of French bread, cheese, and a bottle of wine and headed back up the cliff trail. When we came to the dark cave we had passed earlier, we stopped and sat on some rocks in the coolness of the shade, eating our lunch. As I sat there looking over the ocean, I wondered how in the world I had made it this far.


Return To Nature
4/10/92 Lat. N 17 54.2' L W 62 52.8' Anse Colombier, St. Barthélemy

Why is it that when men get to sea they have this compelling need to relieve themselves over the side of their boat? At home they use the bathroom. At the dock they use the boat's head or rest room facilities on shore. What makes such a difference underway or at anchor?

When you arise early in the morning and look at the boats anchored around you, you see that one by one the males come up on deck and stretch, yawn, and then pee over the side. I know this because I observe it while joining them.

I wonder if this is a left over from the early days of humans. Dogs, cats, and other animals mark their territory by peeing. Perhaps that's what we are doing. We could be trying to say to any other males..."Hey, I've been here. Keep away or be prepared to fight."

Maybe it's just a need for freedom from the social constraints of civilization. We may really be saying, "To hell with the rules and customs of society. I'll piss here if I want to. Damn society to hell!"



The Storm

4/11/92 Lat. N 17 54.2' L. W 62 52.8' Anse Colombier, St. Barthélemy

As usual when there is more than one boat in an anchorage, a pot luck dinner is held. We dinghied to a boat anchored ahead of us. This evening we gathered with the crew of a beautiful center cockpit ketch, and chatted for a while before eating. The wind began to gust, but we did not pay much attention to it. It so happened I was sitting in front of the anemometer. I glanced at it during a gust; it read forty knots.

I shakily announced that we were going to have to leave immediately, and we jumped into our dingy, started the engine, and were blown the fifty yards to our boat in a matter of seconds. I tried not to think what would have happened if we had been blown past Butterfly. As we struggled to take off the awnings, the wind gusted again and we almost took flight.

Then, under power we set out a second anchor and played out most of our anchor rode.

Approximately fifty feet behind our stern was a rocky reef with waves splashing through its teeth twenty feet in the air. The once benign reefs had now become dangerous open maws waiting for Butterfly to come too close.

We sat and watched the reef smothered in turbulence and ate peanut butter sandwiches. We had left our dinner on the other boat in our rush to leave. The wind was now blowing a steady fifty knots, with higher gusts. I knew if our anchor dragged we would be in the jaws of the reef within minutes. I was just happy that the waves in the bay were not very high, if they had been, we would have had big problems.

For the next three days and nights the wind howled, but our anchors held.

There is an old Protestant hymn I kept singing: “Be very sure your anchor holds,” but Judy didn’t like that song and made me stop. We set anchor watches of four on, four off, and waited for the storm to pass. When it finally died out thee days later we were able to dingy around the bay before setting out for a reunion with other cruising friends in Antigua.