The last of the Windwards

Two looming pinnacles jutting from the sea just off our port bow signalled our arrival into St Lucia. As we had to clear in, we decided not to stay within the twin towers of the Pitons and instead chose a mooring ball just off the lovely little bay of Soufriere in the shadow of Petit Piton (although really not that petit!).

Captain Bob was the first boat boy to accost us and so we requisitioned his services to hand us the mooring buoy and advise on which buoys were more secure. Might I add, we had to pay the park for the ball as well as donate EC$20 to Bob's cause for the sole benefit of him handing us a mooring line. This could have also been due to the fact that we had no change and slight relief that Captain Bob was nothing like the guys offering a similar service in St Vincent where we had just come from!

The name Soufriere meaning sulphurer stems from the volcanic activity in the region, some of which is still apparent today. Captain Bob offered us a tour of the island and keen to check out the geology and volcano in action we accepted – this being our first island tour we have been on whilst in the Caribbean.

9am the next morning Captain Bob picked us up from Orion and dinghied ashore handing us over to our driver for the day, Martin. Sulphur Springs was first on the itinerary, touted as being the world's only drive in volcano. We opted for the volcanic mud bath rather than stare at some steam coming out of the ground. Donning our speedos we leapt into the 38 degree pool of black, rotten egg smelling volcanic waters. We joined the only other person there, an enigmatic German who proclaimed he couldn't speak English yet was pretty good at explaining all the different facets of how to have a volcanic mud bath. Smearing white grit over my face, Edward assured me this was good for lady's skin. Dylan got stuck in with the bucket of thick mud, smearing the liquid all over himself until he resembled one of the locals then doing the same for me. With the water temperature being close on 40 degrees and the air temperature being fairly close, it wasn't a place to linger for long so after a few minutes the mud had dried, we posed for some photos like a pair of minstrels then washed off in a lovely FRESH water shower. The mud had become engrained deep in our pores so no amount of scrubbing got it off, we walked away from the springs a blue /grey colour.

Next destination was the Botanical Gardens with the Diamond Falls via a view point where we could look down on Orion on her mooring. The gardens were beautiful but we couldn't really appreciate the fauna having no idea what any of the plants were. Made a great photo opportunity nonetheless. Right by Diamond Falls there were more hot water baths although we were pleased to discover that these were fresh, clean water. Accepting any opportunity to submerge ourselves in fresh water, we donned our now soggy mud encrusted speedos and lolled around like hippos.

We met some interesting people along the way. Our best was Pascal the calabash carving Rastafarian paddle skier. We just had to buy one as he was such a great character! He came paddling over calling out to us. It was late in the afternoon and he had done an entire trip around Soufriere and probably the Pitons too on his wanked out kayak that looked about the same age as him. He was was fit as a fiddle. We got chatting to him as he showed us a calabash in its pre carved form along with all his wares. We asked him about Rastafarian ways keen to understand what it means to be a Rasta. 

Having seen the sights around Soufriere, we headed to Marigot Bay as we had heard rave reviews. Using Dylan's expression, we found it most 'underwhelming'. Sure there were some superyachts to look at but the anchoring was in a small patch on the outside of the channel, no anchoring in the bay and so boat traffic rocked us back and forth 24/7. On top of that, there was nothing to see or do ashore and the water visibility was awful with no fish in sight. A tacky village had been built to please the tourists with countless boutiques selling souvenirs and ice cream, needless to say we didn't venture into any. We found out our friends on Mimi were in Rodney Bay and also another french cat had anchored right on our bow so we figured it was time to move on up the coast after only a day!

Two hours later we were anchored in Rodney Bay. A much nicer anchorage due to the huge space meaning no yachts in close proximity and no neighbours in peeing distance from your cockpit. Having already cleared out in Marigot Bay, we only had one night left in St Lucia so quickly secured the boat and dinghied into the marina to see Mimi.

Dylan rather worse for wear the next morning due to Keith's generous rum pouring (he doesn't learn does he Marcey?!) we awoke at 6am and headed for Martinique – Dylan fed the fish a few times on that passage and learnt a valuable lesson about grogging the night before a sail. Don't do it!

We had planned to spend only a night in Martinique as a stop over so we didn't have to do a night passage. This fits in with our plan of 'fast up, slow down'. Therefore I cannot really give an opinion of this country yet having only experienced the supermarket ashore (which was expensive but they had a fantastic selection of french cheeses!) and the walk to and from customs. Although the country is french speaking and currency is euro, we were able to get by using no french although maybe this will be different when we visit the main towns in Martinique on the way back down. St Pierre where we stopped was devastated by Mount Pelee volcano erupting in 1902, a lot of the ruin is still evident today. It gave the sleepy fishing village a quaint charm taking in the derelict buildings and apparent poverty of the local people who are appear in true Caribbean style content in their situation.

Feeling like we were on a continuous see saw ride the minute we anchored, we were more than happy to move on the next morning to Dominica, the country of 365 rivers!