Les Saintes come rolling in

Irie
Tue 7 Apr 2009 23:33
Position 15 52N 61 35.2W Terre de Haut, Les
Saintes
Tuesday 7th April
Looks like the censor managed to intercept the
picture of Pascal showing Jan his gourds on the last update - see below, so as
to speak. Anyway, still on the way north, but now with a break for a few days in
Les Saintes. We've been here before and really enjoyed it. As a reminder, the
little group of islands were originally colonised by Breton fishermen, so the
population is an interesting mix, and the architecture very French, but
with a distinct Caribbean wash. The only drawback is that the main anchorage is
a little rolly.
However, back in Rodney Bay with Geoff and Val, we
spent a great few days anchored off Pigeon Island. The snorkeling was good, with
far fewer irritating nasties, and walking in the little National Park, fort and
museum provided ample entertainment, not to mention a pleasant lunch at the
Jambe de Bois restaurant. Another high spot of the trip happened Sunday. It
started innocently enough with a stroll along the main beach in the bay. It's
about a mile long and at the far end, away from all the hotels is a little,
shack like bar, so the key objectives were a walk, followed by a refreshing
drink and then a walk back and a swim. The bar was already occupied by
a few locals when we arrived, it was exremely hot and the first iced Piton flew
down. Steadily, the day developed, firstly talking to Chris, a local, turned GI,
turned boatman, turning serious rummy, but engaging and increasingly
effusively pleasant. Then Birgita arrived, a Swedish lady of indeterminate
age, a replacement hip and vividly piercing Scandinavian blue eyes who came
here to live with her husband some years ago. Regretfully he died the
day after they bought their house, but she stayed. She was followed
shortly by a substantial American lady, name unknown, but with a little terrier
called Tipee, and finally the bar's owner arrived in the person of Anne Marie,
very local and the seeming matriarch of half the beach. Being Sunday, this part
of the shore was full of locals, many of them children and yoofs, playing
cricket or football, swimming in the sea and havin' a good time. More locals
materialised at the bar, wood was collected, barbecue ignited, veg
and fish sliced. Part of the preparation involved our hostess addressing
the hide of one of the kids with a long stick, till he vanished onto the tin
roof. In a few seconds, a rattling from above presaged a shower of tamarind
seeds fresh for the pot. We stayed for lunch. One of the drinks on offer was
called 'Spice'.This turns out to be very strong rum, decanted into huge bottles
in which various herbs, spices and potions are prepared. The result is
remarkable - delicious and very strong. It comes in two varieties, one for
ladies and one for men, both with special properties the effects of
which Anne Marie strongly hinted at, backed by vociferous
endorsement from the bar's populace. The lunch was excellent, the company
outstanding, and finally, around four, our sojourn came to a natural end,
we settled the minute bill, escaped with only two additional complimentary
drinks apiece and a recipe for green sauce and toddled back along the beach
whence we came. A remarkable and very warming day.
Monday we hauled the anchor, refuelled in the
lagoon, and headed for the marina. On Tuesday, we had a final swim off the
beach, a small reprise at the special bar, and then at three thirty, Geoff and
Val boarded 'Flight's' taxi for the airport, deviating only to drop us at
the cricket ground to look for tickets for Friday's One Day Test. All too soon
Irie's final visitors to the Caribbean vanished towards Castries. In just
over two weeks we didn't rush, but still covered plenty of ground, saw
stunning places, enjoyed great weather and particularly had a
really good feeling for the people in the islands we visited. A really good
trip.
Pascal and his remarkable calabashes
![]() Piton refill, please
![]() The Tamarind harvest
![]() Anne Marie in good form
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