Sailing solo and finding beautiful places - Sailing Tarka Ep. 9

This time on the Adventures of Tarka, I have two of my best passages yet, get to anchor into some I left you guys mid-sail on a passage from Dominica to Martinique with mixed feelings about what lies ahead. That's because, so far, I've been very lucky to have Alex and Annetta on their little 20-foot home-built plywood boat as sailing buddies. Having a buddy boat doesn't necessarily make anything safer, but it has provided an extra layer of comfort on passage, knowing that there's always someone to talk to on the other side of my radio. But Martinique is where their long journey ends. They are returning to Poland and shipping Little King of Bongo back in a cargo container. We'll get to that though. The sail to Martinique was one of the most pleasant I have done. I spent a lot of that time up on deck just enjoying the beautiful weather, and shamelessly listening to a bit of Jimmy Buffett, and of course keeping an eye out for dolphins. No dolphins this time, but I did get pretty wet. The first stop in Martinique is the little town of Saint Pierre to the north. Saint Pierre is an interesting town. It's nestled in the shadow of an active volcano that completely wiped out the city about 100 years ago. Out of the town's 28,000 inhabitants, all but two died in that eruption. One of those, ironically, being a prisoner that was protected by his own jail cell. The town never really recovered from that eruption, and a much smaller one exists in its place today. Anchoring here is a little bit tricky, as there's only a small shallow ledge available, and after that the water gets very deep. So I came in close to the beach and set the anchor. I always jump in to check to make sure the anchor is actually set though, and this time I found that it was in the grass and hadn't really dug in. I manually moved it over to a patch of sand that was not too far away. Small boats are nice sometimes. While I was in Saint Pierre, the winds were calm and made for a tranquil stop on my way had a fight to catch back to Poland in the middle of the night, so I actually didn't get to say goodbye, but I'll see her again someday. With Alex alone on King of Bongo, and me still alone on we sailed off to check out the bustling capital city of Fort de France, and also the largest city in all of eastern Caribbean. It was strange being in such a big city. I had become accustomed to rowing to shore and fitting in with my somewhat fresh-from-the-sea disheveled appearance, but this was different. This was a real city with fashion and standards, and frankly I just didn't fit in. It was also a bit noisy, and not really the nicest place to live on a boat in the Caribbean. However, it did give me a chance to do some much-needed laundry. Fort de France was the last anchorage that Tarka and King of Bongo would spend together. We had one last dinner aboard Tarka, and he pointed out some good anchorages to stop at on the way south. The next day, he came over to say farewell with a bottle of rum in hand, and then rowed off. This was the last time I'd see Alex. They've been my neighbors for the past three formative months that marked the start of my voyage, and the many lessons I learned in their company. Alex has been a source of sailing wisdom, and Annetta has been great company. I'm going to miss those two. Saying goodbye wasn't easy at all, and this moment marks the point where Tarka and I begin sailing alone, and the journey of King of Bongo ends. A few weeks after our goodbye, Alex put King of Bongo into a shipping container to return to Poland, and I think this photo expresses his feelings about all of that. I know I've mentioned King of Bongo's incredible voyages and passing, but never really in any detail. Alex built that tiny boat himself, and sailed it across the Atlantic to the Caribbean alone. It's quite a story, and I hate to say it, but it makes what I'm doing on Tarka look a little bit like child's play. After Alex left me with a bottle of commemorative rum, I raised the sails and made a short hop over to a quieter anchorage that would put me in a better position for my sail to St. Lucia the next day. I only spent one quiet day in this little bay, and you might be wondering why there's so little footage of me. The truth is, without Alex and Annetta around, I wasn't sure where to point the camera anymore. I just didn't think pointing it at myself would be very interesting, and it would take some time for me to adjust. Also, without King of Bongo around, Tarka is now the smallest boat in the anchorage, so that's pretty neat. In the morning of the following day, I raised the sails and set off for St. Lucia, one of the more iconic islands in the eastern Caribbean. Sailing was easy, the seas were calm, there were no squalls, and the sun was out. It really couldn't have been much better. I also spent a lot of time below deck on passage, hiding from the sun. I was even able to enjoy a cup of coffee without any trouble. Well, without too much trouble. The first stop in St. Lucia was Rodney Bay on the north side of the island. In typical Caribbean fashion, I was welcomed to the island with a nice shower and a following rainbow. But after getting the boat secured and everything put away, I settled in for another perfect Caribbean sunset. You know, I've made it a point to watch all these sunsets, and try not to let them become part of the background. In times like these, I think of how that hot bright star of ours is the source of most of our energy. It drives the weather, and in a roundabout sort of way, creates the trade winds that I depend on. It also heats the ocean, causing hot moisture to rise and condense into squalls that drive me crazy. And in the summertime, it can create real monsters. In fact, at the very moment I was watching that sunset, the first tropical storm of the season was forming to the south, and ironically heading right for Grenada, where I'd planned to hide from her. I decided to stay put for a few days, and let it pass before continuing onward. There was a small chance it could have an effect where I was, so I put out a second anchor for good measure. It did get a bit windy, but in the end I avoided the worst of it. To my great fortune, friends of mine gave me access to the marina showers. This was my first real shower in months, and it was amazing. Tarka can only carry 70 gallons of fresh water, and many people in the shower. So I spoiled myself just this once with an extra long rinse. Plus, I really needed it. St. Lucia is another volcanic island, and it is famous for its two pitons in the southern portion. This is also an area of the island that can be somewhat problematic for sailors, as there have been incidents of petty and not so petty piracy there. Not to be deterred though, I made my way south. As I got closer, the pitons gradually grew, and their majesty slowly became clearer through the haze. At about a mile out, I was approached by two kids in the skiff, who offered to assist me with finding a mooring and tying up the boat. I politely declined, and didn't have any problems. The pitons are incredible, and though I know Tarka is small, man did I feel tiny being flanked by these volcanic giants. Tomorrow though, before sunrise, I'd be leaving this lovely spot and embarking on a long, windless passage. But that adventure will have to wait until next time.