Our First Fishy

Maybe this fish will help my waistline /
pants falling off

Our maiden voyage with the new rod and reel proudly on display. We trolled all the way from Marigot Bay (St Martin) to Anguilla. Just as we were about to enter the bay and reel in the lure, the ever exciting ZZZZZZZZZZ of the reel sounded.

Battle stations! Grab the helm, luff up, power down, get the gaff...

We were not going to lose another fish! Still smarting over the loss of that beautiful Dorado all those many weeks ago.

Looking for a good fight, I settled in for a long battle of man vs fish!

Alas it was not to be. This very tired little mackerel proved an un worthy adversary for my new mega rod and reel.

Whilst I brought the fish along side, Sally expertly flailed the gaff like some sort of rabid pikeman and successfully hooked him. We then brought him into the cockpit and shared a decent helping of alcohol with him which successfully calmed the fish's nerves (permanently).

It was our first fish. A 2 ft Cero Mackerel.

Was great eating and tasted even better having been caught by Team Orion!

Diving on RMS Rhone

RMS Rhone was a 310ft British packet ship owned by Royal Mail that did passages between England and the West Indies. It sank in the late 1800s during a hurricane and remains fairly well intact today.

We had been told about this site and how good it was from multiple people. We were yet to scuba dive in the Caribbean so we figured this would be a great dive to start again. 30ft in the shallowest section at the stern and 80ft in the deepest section at the bow we were in for two dives.

Sail Caribbean Dive were our choice in dive company and they were fantastic. We were anchored in Cooper Island so a short dinghy ride ashore brought us to one of their bases. We sat in the shade of a palm tree whilst they loaded up the boat, carried our gear and bottles and summoned us when they were about to leave. Never before have we had such VIP treatment when going on a dive! We were used to carrying our heavy bottles and rigging up the kit so this was total luxury!

We board the Newton 36 dive vessel and speed off to Salt Island where the wreck is located. A fun fact about that island – the residents of this island rescued the survivors from RMS Rhone and salvaged what they could of the wreck. Being decent honest people they sent what they salvaged back to the Queen. The Queen being so grateful announced that as a thank you, the residents of the island don't need to pay taxes anymore but must provide a token pound of salt once a year. From 2005 the island has been uninhabited but the salt is still harvested. The Tortolan government send a team round to the island to get a pound of salt and send it on to the Queen!

We reach the dive site and put our kit on. Dylan and I, keen to ensure we follow the correct process ask the dive master to show us the buddy checks. When finished a cocky almost transparent white American guy goes to me 'oh you are clearly new to this'. I reply 'no, but we haven't dived since last September' to which he responds 'gosh thats an awful long time'. He riled me, especially when he didn't bother with a buddy check himself. Remember this later in the blog...

We straddle jump into the water and all 8 of us descend down the mooring line to the bottom. As we are dumping air out of our BCDs, a huge almost majestic sight looms into our vision. This wreck was some ship and is now home to excellent coral, sponges and fans. The excellent visibility highlights the bright colours against the rusting iron hull. We swam around the bow section first, relatively intact and come to a section where the wood has completely rotted away. Here, one by one we penetrate the wreck (swim through, to all non divers). We swam in to what appears to be a pitch black hole but no sooner have you stuck your head through, you are greeted with shafts of light showing the inside of the ship, more corals and tons of reef fish. At this point I start to get a good idea of the people with us on our dive. The cocky American guy is flailing around, kicking us in the mask, swimming right in front of us unable to control his buoyancy and looking like a spastic seahorse. For the rest of the dive we swim with one eye on him, the other on the wreck, keeping as far away as possible – there is always one on every dive we do! We see a sea turtle, lobsters and plenty of decent sized reef fish. After 20 mins we surface and commence our 'surface interval' preparing for dive 2.

Dive 2 takes us to the stern section where we again penetrate the wreck and swim over the huge 15 foot diameter brass propeller. Only one passenger survived the wreck and he was staying in cabin 27. The porthole of cabin 27 is still intact and is considered lucky by all divers. It is tradition to rub the brass 3 times clockwise so thats what we do – it is really shiny compared to the rest of the wreck due to the amount of hands that have continuously rubbed it!

Dylan at some time in the dive cut his hand on barnacles and during dive 2 he squeezes it and shows me what looks like green goo oozing out of it. At this point I think he has a serious infection (already) and take note that we will have to check it out when we surface. So first thing I do when we get back on the boat is grab his hand expecting to see some alien liquid covering his palm, instead I see dried blood...the light distortion at a depth of 80 feet has changed what is normally dark red to a slime green!

Our Own Desert Island

Road Bay, Anguilla

Looking at Gem's photos taken some 30 years we were really impressed with Prickly Pear Cays and Dog Island off Anguilla. So when we heard that nowadays they are part of a National Park and a permit it required to go visit them, it didn't put us off. When we cleared into Anguilla, we were allowed to clear out at the same time if we left the island within 24 hours. With this in mind we opted to stay in the capital, Road Bay for a night then spend the day at the two islands before doing a night passage to the British Virgin Islands. Price of a day cruising permit is EC$40 or £10 /$15 – well worth it.

Orion at anchor

Approximately 5 miles away from the mainland, Prickly Pear Cays is a big reef open to the swells and easterly winds providing no shelter. Luckily when we arrived the wind was just under 20 knots making the bay bearable and we picked up a mooring. That in itself was some mission as the wind was blowing right on the nose, pushing us off the minute Dylan slowed the engine and I went to grab the mooring ball with the boat hook. After 3 attempts I hooked it and quickly cleated it off. There were no other boats in the bay when we arrived but just as our joy subsided we clocked a day charterer catamaran cruising in. O well – the cruising guide had warned us of this.

Dropping some snacks, sun tan lotion and camera into a dry bag we jumped in and swan through the swells to shore. A lot further than we estimated we were most proud of ourselves when we waded ashore and looked back at Orion. Navigating some sharp rocks in our bare feet, we covered ourselves up and opted to go the opposite way to the day charter boat, straight into a bird colony. These birds didn't like us being there very much, but not perturbed by their squawks we plodded on, looking for nice shells and appreciating the isolation on this tiny island. We eventually hit dense vegetation and after a few cactus scratches, we gave up and tried the other side of the island. Dylan being an avid Ray Mears fan clearly should have brought his gerber!

Exploring over at Prickly Pear Cays we slipped the mooring line and motored a couple of miles to Dog Island. Now this is some place. A little further away from the mainland this is a sailor's dream. No boats in sight, long sandy beaches and the promise of being a modern day Christopher Columbus. This 'bay' is totally in the elements, poor Orion was tossed from side to side as we dropped the anchor and battled with 30 knot gust winds. Although a little tricky and uncomfortable to stay on the boat, it is totally worth it. We again swam ashore and were rewarded with a whole island to ourselves. Even Richard Branson on Necker Island is never alone due to his army of staff running around him and probably does not get the same experience as us.

A fine sandy white beach runs along the south side of the island, a salt lake is in the middle and then a rock strewn coast to the north. A couple of shacks were dotted about the place which looks like some environmental research is done here – although what we don't know as we didn't spot anything worth studying.

I was overwhelmed with the amount of shells to collect. Everywhere I looked there were shells worthy of being in my (albeit small) collection. In the shallows the water was crystal clear providing an unrestricted view of the ocean floor strewn with undamaged cone shells, olives, conch, sand dollars. I got to work straight away donning the mask and snorkel and bobbing up and down collecting handfuls of shells, depositing on the beach and then going back for more. Dylan, amused at the sight of my ass constantly in the air diving down then bobbing back up again came to join me which was great as it meant I could also fill his pockets! I felt like I was a contestant on the crystal maze when they shove you in a plastic booth and blow out £20 notes to see how many you can collect. The swell was quite big and so with every crashing wave the sand was thrown up covering the layer of shells that you were just looking at, you had to move quite fast to rescue your find else it was lost to the sea.

My shell collection

Dylan interrupted my fun by spotting a particularly large ugly dark cloud coming our way, with our hatches open we swam back to the boat heavily laden with our finds just in time before the heavens opened and we were treated to a natural fresh water power shower.

Ourselves and Orion squeaky clean we ate some din dins and prepared for a night passage to the BVIs.

Ice

An item you just take for granted in a house but becomes such a big deal in the Caribbean on a boat. We have a fridge /freezer onboard Orion but the freezer never gets cold enough to produce ice as we never have enough battery power to keep the unit on 24/7. However, when you pour that glass of rum and coke, gin and tonic, malibu and diet coke (don't judge me!) - there is nothing better than a dozen ice cubes to accompany that sundowner, especially after a 30+ degree day toiling on the boat.

Enterprising businesses on the waterfront have big ice machines outside, selling bags of ice for $2. When we feel like treating ourselves we shall pick up a bag and quickly dinghy back to the boat, attack it with an ice pick to shape it so it will fit in our freezer section. It will last almost 2 evenings before it is completely melted.

Now if we go to a catamaran say and they have an ice machine onboard, woooow that is just absolute luxury and we do a little dance, excited at the prospect of having ice in our drinks the whole night. Dylan has taken to eating the ice when he doesn't want a drink, just to make sure he gets his money's worth prior to it being reduced to a puddle and finding its way out of our fridge and into the bilge.

1 cent slots

Aaah yachties, we will do pretty much anything for a free drink or meal. Although in a previous post I mentioned for the previous 2 weeks we have done 'more work, less play' – we of course did go out to play a few times if only to keep our sanity. One of these times took us to a wine tasting event set up by our friends on La Luna. Accompanied by home made appetisers a group of yachties met up at a wine warehouse. For $10 that bought us a glass and as much wine as we could take steered by the owner who was educating us on what we were drinking. Obviously the intention was for us to buy a crate at the end but Dylan and I just went along for the cheap wine. Around 10 of us sat on a wooden bench, outside a warehouse in the middle of a car park whilst we sipped away at his bordeauxs, merlots, cabernet sauvignons and chardonnays– a rather surreal experience. A rather civilised affair to start with listening intently to his explanations, we soon got stuck in to finding our favourites and devouring the appetisers during happy hour 4 – 7pm.

At 7pm, not wanting to go back to the boat just yet, word went round that there was free food and drinks going at a nearby casino. Not ones to turn down this type of opportunity we all got in our dinghies and formed a line speeding over to the Princess casino, headlamps on and navigating the numerous buoys littered around the lagoon, in the dark.

Upon arrival we were ushered into this plush room crammed with machines, roulette tables and bars. Luckily we had got out of our rust stained clothes we usually wear so didn't feel too out of place and it was here I had my first gambling experience (unless horse racing counts). Dylan entrusted me with $1 and some experienced ladies took me over to the 1 cent slot machines. I was then taught how to use the machine and make the dollar last for as long as possible until the food arrived. So there we were, a line of ladies betting 1c at a time, being provided with numerous potent g&ts from our very own waitress. The guys went off to observe the big boys at the roulette tables. At 9:30 the food arrives and we toddle off to find tonight is 'Italian night'. We piled our plates high with food and went back to a machine putting a further $1 in and being supplied with more drinks. As long as we were playing, we weren't paying!

After din dins, a singer came on accompanied by a grand piano. Whilst I was at the bar ordering some soft drinks and singing away with him, the singer comes up behind me and dares me to join him. Well I'm not one to back down on a dare so I take the mic and continue singing 'Everything I Do', my voice blaring out to the whole casino. I turn to find Dylan and see him and the rest of the party looking back at me open mouthed not believing I had the courage to do that.

Excitement over at around 11pm having spent $6 between us (big spenders!) we called it a night and we all swayed out of the casino and back to our dinghies where we had a 2 mile ride ahead of us. Great night made even better by the lack of money leaving our wallets.

Ode to my Oven

I will never even take an oven for granted again.

When we bought Orion she came with an oven but not until I went to use it did I spot the mercury at the bottom of the stove. Upon further investigation we realised we needed a certain part that would cost almost as much as the oven to buy and ship over. From that day on in Grenada, Dylan promised me that when we got to St Martin, I would have a fully functioning oven. So I out my recipes to the back of the shelf and made do with the stove top until then.

The chandleries in St Martin had loads of oven to choose from and I decided on one of the cheapest at just over $1000 but it was a lot smaller than the one we currently had. Before we went ahead and bought it, we did one final plea on the cruiser's net for anyone getting rid of a working oven. Lucky for us, a guy was getting rid of exactly the same oven and model as ours that he no longer wanted....and it still worked! It was ours for $100. Back on Orion we went about choosing the best parts from each oven and ended up with a super duper version. Igniting the burner and watching the pilot light get bigger, we crossed our fingers hoping this $100 was worth the amount of effort. It worked first time!

So now I had a working oven and tons of recipes to choose from. Gem had given us a recipe book when we started out on this adventure that has great words in it about companionship and the origin of the word 'company'. It is derived from the work 'com pani' which means 'with bread'. With this in mind, it only seemed right that I attempted a loaf of bread to start with. I set about measuring the ingredients, kneading the dough, waiting for it to rise and 5 hours later we were rewarded with an amazing loaf that tastes as good as it looks. Since then I have made cakes, baked chicken and potato bakes.

Today's request is apple crumble – hopefully with this new oven I can fatten Dylan up a little! (Dylan's comment – there is nothing like a diet called 'poverty' to help shed some pounds!)

St. Martin

St Martin and Sint Maartan is one island split into 2 countries: the French side and the Dutch side. Why 2 countries on one island? Well legend has it, they both wanted to rule St Martin but rather than fight over it, they made a Frenchman armed with a bottle of wine walk in one direction and a Dutchman armed with a bottle of gin take the other. Where the two gentlemen met, they made that the boundary and the French ended up with more as the gin was stronger than the wine!

Although it matters what side you clear in to (French is way cheaper), you are free to cross the 'border' as often as you like. Well there is no border or demarcation, the only way of knowing you are on the other side is the currency in use. For the French side they accept euros and dollars and the Dutch side accept dollars and florins. Confusing?! Sure is, we walked around with 2 wallets with a currency in each, constantly converting the prices back to pounds. Even more confusing is the use of the word 'dollars' as coming from south of the Caribbean chain, we are still programmed to think that dollars = Eastern Caribbean dollars but no, now we need to reprogramme to dollars = US dollars. Currency aside, the prices here are cheap cheap cheap. Story goes, back in the day the sugar market collapsed and in 1939 an attempt was made to boost the economy by making the island completely duty-free. We took full advantage.

Customs here was a pleasure, 5 mins plugging in our details to a PC and we were done. Note to other cruisers coming to St Martin – tell them you are anchored in Grand Case else they will charge you per day for being in Marigot. We wanted to anchor out of the lagoon as we prefer to stay way clear of floating shite from people's heads...but not pay $100+ for the pleasure.

The aim of the game in St Martin was to work through our to do list of work needed to do on the boat as well as boost our spares, tools and other important parts onboard. More work, less play on this island. After 2 weeks of hard work, 3 visits to ACE hardware, 4 visits to Island Waterworld, 5 visits to Budget and 1 to Home n Tools we succeeded. And those visits were just the time I was in attendance, it doesn't count the times I refused to step foot in the place and opted instead to sun myself at the dinghy dock! Dylan is like a kid at a candy store, walking up and down each aisle just touching the various items on sale. This is not my style, sure I love to spend money but I can't get excited about another wrench set! Dylan can fill you in on all the work we did in a subsequent blog post. It is quite impressive what Dylan has achieved on our boat considering he hasn't owned a boat himself before! Although I did chores of my own, I definitely took the role as project manager with my lists, spreadsheets and budget planner.

So we were anchored in Marigot Bay, a huge area with plenty of space to anchor and very little swell. Although not as scenic as the other islands, St Martin still has the clear water, coral sandy bottom and luscious green hills in the distance. On the shore there is a daily market with local ladies pedalling their wares of bright kaftans and vibrant pashminas and scarves.

Set back from the coastline is a lovely little town reminiscent of a mini Paris. The streets are lined with cafes bustling with tourists in the mornings eager to demolish a proper French breakfast. The smells of pastries and coffee only hit us when we dock the dinghy, a god send really else I would end up the size of a house constantly craving pain au raisins! Amongst the eateries are posh shops, Cartier on one corner, Zaviar Diamond on the other. Clearly out of our league but nonetheless there is no harm in window shopping on the way to catch the bus.

Buses are somewhat different from that in Grenada. No blaring music, no specific dude to hand the money to. These buses are big, more like coaches and air conditioned. One bus even had a tv and dvd player set into the dashboard and front of the bus for the customers to watch! The locals are from various other countries and no more is that exemplified than on the bus. Haitians speaking Spanish, locals speaking French, Creole, English. Dylan made the mistake of starting a conversation with a local preacher on the bus once and he got lectured for the remainder of the journey on the bible, in particular the Sabbath. I pretended not to know him and stare out the window, giving him the odd prod if he encouraged the conversation further. These bus drivers are very protective of their buses, giving customers a ticking off if they dare open a packet of crisps or spill a drink.

Our food was devoured mostly on the boat trying to keep the spending down in places we can control but we did treat ourselves to a few $5 lunches when out on a long errand. Yes totally OTT I know! There is this one guy who sells lunch out the back of his van opposite Island Waterworld, for $5 you can get a big styrofoam box full of rice /salad /fish. Lovely homely food that left us full for the rest of the day and I highly recommend it.

Having travelled from the UK to Canada then on to Caribbean, my summer wardrobe is somewhat lacking and with the harsh sun and salt water, my cheap primark /zara /h&m clothing isn't holding up very well. Most have holes in them, rust stains and massively misshapen. We had heard that the capital Philipsburg was a great place for cheap clothes so enticing Dylan with an outstanding electronics list we set off on a bus. Now for those of you that don't know Dylan...this was a monumental achievement. He hates clothes shopping and is totally clueless about fashion, opting for hand me downs from his friends (thanks Paulie) and Dad (!) rather than enter a shop himself. Philipsburg didn't disappoint. On Back Street there are cheap clothes stores, one after another all with decent prices. The trick was to find a shop that didn't sell lycra diamonte clothing as that really isn't my style. I came away very pleased with a dress, couple of tops and some hippy hareems, all cotton or linen and not a single sparkly thing in sight. It was here I came across a snow cone. Does what it says on the tin really, street vendors hand you a cup of ice and then you choose a flavoured syrup to put over it. A simple idea but exactly what you need in the midday heat.

With the weather now turning to the rainy season, each day is very hot and humid. A daily swim is a must and I can almost hear the fizz of water as we jump in and cool off. Dylan being the scavenger that he is has found many an item to add to our tool collection on the seabed close to our anchor chain including a $71 shackle (Dylan's addition – he spent over an hour diving with a pair of pliers trying to chip off all the rust from the chain that had seized the stainless shackle in place. He was very chuffed when A) he finally worked it loose and B) when he priced it up at $71 in Budget Marine!). One day he decided to do something with the old chain (approx 300 ft that was joined by the shackle) and swirled it up into 2 balls creating an artificial reef complete with sea anemones and shells. The fish love it and makes for a good snorkelling spot. Only yesterday we saw a huge puffa fish swimming by, checking out the new place to be. (Dylan's addition – this was another few hours of work hauling rusty 12mm chain around the sea floor – all good training for when I start spear fishing!)

A blog post on St Martin wouldn't be complete without mentioning Shrimpy's. An internet cafe /bar /laundrette located near the entrance to the French side of the lagoon, it is run by a South African couple – Mike and Sally. These guys know everything that is worth knowing about the island including the best places to get boat work done, places to eat etc. A welcoming place, we have spent hours in there on the internet, slowly getting eaten alive by mozzies.

After 2 weeks of boat work we are keen to move on to pastures new and look forward to what Anguilla and subsequently the BVIs have to offer.