Cherubino's Atlantic

Here’s a clip of our sail across to St Barts from Statia…

Yesterday afternoon, through a piece of prize idiocy, I managed to drop a heavy and solid object from a considerable height onto my unprotected foot. The howl of pain and rage might have roused the residents of the churchyard on the cliff above our anchorage. Inspecting the gory mess, I imagined that I’d lose the foot for sure and was comforted by the thought that a wooden leg would rather suit my present beardy look. However, the foot’s still attached and I have two lacerated and swollen toes wrapped up in a giant bandage – the very image of a martyr to the gout.

All this aside, we got away from Oranjestad before 0600 this morning and enjoyed a brisk cracked sheet reach across the 30M stretch to Gustavia, St Barts.

We’re heading out again once Pols…

…. has got our passports stamped and internet access will become somewhat sporadic but we’ll post when can.

Hopalong Tom.

So chortled the lanky Dutchman who popped out to join us admiring the view from the top of the Quill Volcano, highest point of St Eustatius (aka Statia). And it’s a dormant one at that, since there are hot springs on its slopes where the temperatures reach 60 degrees. The whole family are of course delighted with my new found past time of Volcano bagging.

So we followed the sign saying Panorama and this is what we found:

Statia passed the Polly smell test with absolute flying colours. We arrived mid afternoon and found the Customs and Immigration office (a sea container with Customs and Immigration painted in large letters – so helpful and yet so unusual, as normally I spend at least half an hour poking my head into every nondescript unmarked building in town until I chance upon it. I’m sure its is done on purpose as an initiative test that visitors have to pass). After clearance we visited the National Parks office as Statia has both a marine and a shore park. The Parks Officer was knowledgeable and welcoming, joking away in perfect English as only the Dutch can. Omens were good.

Statia is also known as Golden Rock from its days as a duty free port in the the late 18th century when , all around the French English and Spanish were waging great battles, the Dutch declared the island a duty free port , all trade legitimate or otherwise welcome, and so it was for a brief period, the busiest port in the world. All this borne out by the amazing paintings in the town’s small but perfectly informative museum.

Nowadays, The Hidden Gem of the Caribbean struggles to make its mark. It is very small (8 square miles), permanent population 3-4000, depending on which leaflet you read. Mass tourism hasn’t caught on here (to our delight, though not perhaps the delight of the inhabitants) since there are no golden beaches, just a lovely small black sand town beach, no large dock, and a very small airport. But the diving is stupendous and the hiking extensive and well marked, making it a joy for those who do make the effort. And there are a few, mainly well heeled Americans and Dutch, from my eavesdropping ashore.

Part of the problem I’d I imagine is Statia’s other significant feature, an enormous oil depot. This means that the anchorage – and the town’s outlook – is in fact a giant floating filling station. Fuel barges are manoeuvred about by a small fleet of busy tugs who ensure that all comers can either fill up with bunkers or unload their contribution to the depot. For me they are a beautiful sight, especially at sunset but I do see it is not everyone’s cup of tea.

Statia anchorage from The Quill. You can spot us from the two masts. And those ships are mostly fuel barges (or ship equivalent of petrol pumps).

Although we do not dive, we do love a good snorkel. During its heyday the lower shore of Oranjestad was crowded with warehouses and shops. As the port’s significance declined (when the French and English took over and introduced taxes – take note!), the buildings gradually fell victims to the ravages of hurricanes and erosion, falling into the sea. This has left some intriguing homes for lots of happy fish and there are even a few loose canons down there too.

Sunset over Old Town ruins. With Saba in the background.

Ashore, the fauna is the usual mix of goats, chickens, lizards, beautiful ground nesting doves, and elusive iguanas. Flora includes our favourite gum tree, locally known as the tourist tree, because of its orange peeling skin. However, Dora has renamed it the Trump tree. For obvious reasons.

Fine specimen of the gloriously orange Trump tree.

So, apart from scrabbling around on volcanoes and snorkelling, the girls have been in the library keeping up with school. The library is the best yet,air conditioning, proper tables, those cushioned chairs you get at wedding receptions and an incredible selection of books – the young adult non finction section had titles as diverse as: An introduction to Genetic Engineering, Sea Turtles, Leopardfish (yes an entire book), Careers in Science and Living with an Alcoholic Parent. That was just the English language section.

We love this easy going place with its great sense of humour, genuine welcome and Dutch love of a party. If you ever get the chance, hop on a plane (or several) and come and see.

How can you not love an island that has a dedicated Iguana Hotline and reminders to look out for the little fellows.

Oranjestad, St Eustatius (Statia)

Approach: Statia is fairly steep to, with no significant natural off lying hazards. That said, there are numerous tug mooring buoys associated with the oil terminal in Tumbledown Dick Baai (N of Oranjestad) and these can have long warps streaming from them. To the S of Oranje Bay there are numerous buoys about marking dive sites but we saw very little in the way of fishing marks. I wouldn’t suggest an approach by night as a sensible option. The green buoy at the end of the Roro wharf has disappeared but two large metal buoys (yellow and lit, F) about a cable to the W mark it clearly enough.

Anchorage: Oranje Bay is the only place to anchor as Statia’s coast is designated a marine park out to the 30m contour. The ‘bay’ is really an open roadstead with a modicum of protection afforded by the Roro wharf and breakwater in the SE and Interlopers Point to the NW and wide open to the SW. Not surprisingly a swell makes itself felt but in normal trade wind conditions this is not too bad. The Bay has many mooring buoys for small craft, mostly local fishing and dive boats. Some were laid specifically for yachts and an elaborate colour coding system was introduced but all this seems to have gone by the wayside. No fear, as the holding on soft sand is excellent. We anchored in 8m on the seaward side of the mooring field, others chose to go closer inshore in 4m or so. There is a dinghy dock on the N side of the breakwater which, I’d imagine, would be untenable if there was a serious swell running in but was fine during our stay.

Formalities: Contrary to some recent accounts we found immigration and customs friendly and efficient both, along with the harbour master’s office, are to be found at the root of the breakwater. You’ll also need to visit the Park Office (turn left from the dinghy dock, about 100m on the right) to get a permit to anchor (US$30/week) and hiking permits for the land parks ((US$10/head).

Services: Statia is not a place to come for a major re-provision, arrive with adequate water, diesel and gas. The supermarket ‘Duggins’ on De Windtweg looks as if it’s fallen through a time warp from the 50’s but has a decent range of basics – particularly just after a fresh container has been breached. The bakery is sadly disappointing. There are plenty of restaurants both in the upper and lower towns offering the usual suspects at rather less than the usual rates but also some more specialist Statian fare such as Goat Burger. As at Deshaies our children enjoyed doing their school work in the air conditioned calm of the library which also has good WiFi. There a couple of banks with ATMs (note that Statia works in US$ not € as one might expect) but when I tried to exchange some E Caribbean $ I was treated as though I were attempting to swap last Christmas’s paper crowns for real money.

Fun and Games: We loved Statia. Some people might feel that the constant comings and going of the tugs and big ships mar the peace. We felt it gave a lovely feeling of activity. The lower town is mostly made up of dive operations, small restaurants and a couple of hotels amongst which chickens, goats, ground doves and the occasional, thrilling, humming bird meander. Up a sharp climb to the upper storey of Oranjestad and you are among a charming mix of brightly painted wooden houses…

…ancient stone mansions…

…and many ruins left over from the island’s commercial glory in the late 18th century. History lies thickly everywhere you look.

We particularly enjoyed the remains of the Dutch Reformed Church and the Synagogue and the museum in Simon Donke House.

As some of the history isn’t terribly to the credit of British interests so much of it was news to us!

The snorkelling in the harbour is terrific with the centuries old sea wall now ten feet under water and teeming with fish. Apart from shoals of small reef fish we also saw large barracuda and tuna as well a turtles. It really is a treat.

Another joy of Statia is the hiking up and around The Quill, the volcano that dominates the S half of the island. The paths are well made and clearly marked. Climbing up to the crater lip is much less demanding than the St Kitts version but the last climb up to the highest point on the N side is very steep, tho’ assisted with fixed ropes. From the top you can see the whole island as well as Saba, St Martin and St Barts, about 30M away. There are also paths leading round the volcano’s base.

Statia is a most lovely place, amazingly overlooked by most cruising sailors. Make sure to visit next time your passing!

A short clip of Cherubino under sail along the W side of St Kitts heading for Statia…

I have to confess that I form a strong opinion of an island pretty much on first sight. You just get a feel for a place, from the smell of the land, the type and level of noise, the customs and immigration clearance, the look of their tomatoes at market…..

St Kitts won me over before we even set foot on land, that first night, anchored off the swanky Salt Plage beach bar , drinking my celebratory birthday bubbles, training the binoculars on the jet set ashore, relieved not to have packed my floaty white sundress (what floaty white sundress, some of you may ask?!) so I could have gone ashore and blended in. Far more enjoyable was the impromptu dance floor the girls and I made on the poop desk, our music being whisked out to sea by the strong trade winds that had got us there so fast.

On St Kitts, we were truly able to relax and unwind for a while. The people are friendly, relaxed and capable and it is safe enough for the children to wander about unaccompanied. There is plenty to do on land and all within easy reach with our small but air conditioned hire car.

We took the boat up to Port Zante marina where she stayed for a week so we could explore this delightful island. Port Zante marina is rarely visited by cruising yachts as it is in the shadow of the enormous cruise ship complex and mainly home to the day tripper sailing cats and dive boats that take the passengers off on their daily excursions.

I’d never seen the cruise ship holiday up close like this before and it was fascinating people watching. As some delightful US neighbours of ours pointed out the passengers are mostly the ‘newly weds and nearly deads’ with a smattering of families as we were there over Easter.

One or two cruise ships docked on 6 out of th 8 days we were there, including he world’s largest, Symphony of the Seas which disgorges over 6000 people. Believe me she was an absolute monster, towering above us like a small city centre cut adrift. Apparently she has two indoor climbing walls (which were the only appealing features we could discover).

The ships tend to dock around 7am and by 8.30am passengers start to flood through the gates to be whisked off to the various excursions: beach trip, Brimstone Fort visit, scenic railway, zip lining, day sail on an overcrowded catamaran etc. The Kittitians are amazingly efficient and charming in entertaining these visors and seemingly retuning them safely at the end of the day to their ships . I never actually saw any search parties sent out for the wayward last passenger, but surely it must happen.

Wingfield Estate. The bridge was part of the old sugar cane plantation and below was a special tank for extracting indigo. We’d seen similar on Martinique.

I absolutely see that, to an island heavily reliant on tourism, it must be a very welcome source of income to have these guaranteed visitors each day. However, it does colour the experience for the minority of visitors staying in hotels or self catering to cope with this enormous influx at a chosen spot. You have to get up very early to beat the crowds or as in the case when we visit the stunning Brimstone Fort, you add social anthropology to the mix. All in all, they didn’t bother us too much, but we did find a dearth of good and imaginative places to eat on the island since restaurants cater to the lowest common denominator.

Dora walking through the rainforest

One place we were guaranteed to escape the hordes was my chosen family treat for Easter Sunday, which was to turn the family out of their bunks at 6am so we could climb to the top of Mount Liamuiga, the dormant volcano that dominates the landscape of St Kitts. I first read about the walk in the Lonely Planet guide which said it was “tough, tough, tough” and shouldn’t be attempted without a guide. I then kept googling (as you do!) until I read a review that said it wasn’t really that bad and you certainly didn’t need a guide. So off we went. I have to say hats off to the children, for lack of bleating. I think it actually stunned them into silence as it was a tough uphill walk followed by a significant climb up boulders, tree roots and scree slopes which required a lot of stretching for the shorter limbed members of the family. To my great delight, we were actually walking inside rainforest, with the canopy intact and providing complete shade, the sounds of monkeys and elusive birds and the smell of rotting vegetation. Heavenly.

At the top we emerged onto a ridge and peered down into the crater, Jurassic Park set out below, the clacking pterodactyls easy to conjure up in our imagination. We took the wise decision not to climb down into the crater but lowered our aching limbs back down the mountain, which in itself was no mean feat.

Tom and Dora with crater behind.

I’m now mapping out our next island visits according to accessible volcanoes, which conveniently leads us to St Kitts’ northern neighbour St Eustatius.

A very satisfyingly impressive looking Mt Liamuiga behind as we sail for St Eustatius.