When the Antigua Classic Yacht Regatta concluded, we hung around Falmouth Harbour for a few more days, waiting for better weather for our trip southward.  When we could see that a weather window was on its way, we moved back up to Jolly Harbour, where we did some last-minute provisioning and cleared out with customs.  On May 1 we motored down to Deshaies, Guadeloupe, arriving early enough to go ashore, check in, and see a little of this charming little village.  On the way down we caught another Sailfish, and once again, intimidated about the prospect of getting injured while attempting to release it, I decided to use a gaff to land it.  Next day we continued south, stopping for a dive at Pigeon Island before continuing on to Iles des Saintes.  With the forecasts promising especially mild weather for the next few days, we decided to visit for the first time yet another island of Guadeloupe: Marie Galante.  We were joined in the expedition by Arctic Tern and Bodacious.   As is their wont, Arctic Tern was well on their way before we on TT2 had even cleared the sleep out of our eyes and breakfasted.  Bodacious brought up the rear.  Our initial destination was Grand Bourg, the main town in Marie Galante.  When we were about half-way there, Arctic Tern reported that the enclosed harbour looked much too small to accommodate our three vessels, so we all diverted to St. Louis, the main yacht anchorage and the second-largest village on the island.  Next day, we all went in early and rented scooters from two adjacent vendors.  Jack and Jo (Bodacious) were tandom on a larger scooter.  The rest of us were solo, with Hunter also on a larger bike.  The scooters were easy to master and a blast to ride.  Plenty of power, handlebar brakes, and automatic transmissions.   We circumnavigated the island in a clockwise manner, with a major diversion at one point to find our way to a windmill that we could see in the interior.

Our first major stop was on the northeast side of the island at Gueule Grand Gouffre, a round sinkhole that features a rim about 200 feet high with an arch at the bottom opening to the sea.

We had lunch at a restaurant at Capesterre, right beside an extensive and beautiful beach.

We stopped at two rum factories.   The first, Habitation Bellevue, had a nice tasting station and gift shop.  There were trailers arriving with cut sugar cane, and all phases of the production cycle seemed to be underway.  Fermentation vats were bubbling away.   Others were being filled.   Some were being cleaned in preparation for the next batch.  Cane was being fed into the presses that squeeze out the juice.   Fermented juice was being distilled.  And everything was open, with no apparent restrictions on where an observer could go.

At another rummery, much smaller and more primitive, it was apparent that the cane is delivered by old-fashioned wooden-wheeled carts pulled by oxen, and that the cane is fed to the press by hand or pitchfork.   As we arrived, everything was being shut down for the day, so we could not stay and observe the processes.

We were required to return our scooters by 4 pm.  Afterwards, as we strolled toward the town pier where our dinghy was tied, it became apparent that a crowd had gathered at the base of the pier and on the adjacent beach.  Chanting and singing and blowing of conch.   We soon realized that the crowd was there because a long dugout canoe had just arrived at the beach.  Posters on the side of a small building revealed that the canoe was a reproduction of the kind that had been used by Arawak Amerindians for ocean-going passages.   And then we noticed that yokes were being affixed to two pairs of ox bulls.  The yokes were set upon the necks of the bulls just behind their horns, and were then securely tied to the horns.   Each bull had a large nose ring, to which was attached a long rope that ran up over the forehead of the bull and then up over the bull’s back.  Verbal commands, reinforced by pressure applied to nose rings, were used to control the bulls.   As we watched, the oxen teams were positioned in front of the canoe and chains were attached to the yokes.   The lead team’s chain was attached to the rear team’s yoke.   The rear team’s chain was attached to a line that was tied to a ring near the bottom of the front of the canoe.   When all was arranged, commands where shouted, control lines were tugged, and the canoe and teams surged forward.   When the canoe was about three-quarters ashore, the line attached to the canoe broke.   After several attempts to refasten the line, aided by Hunter who jumped in with his handy Leatherman tool to cut off the old knot, the canoe was brought fully ashore.   A remarkable and unforgettable spectacle.

The next day we all motored north a few miles to anchor near Ilet du Vieux Fort, where we had heard there was good snorkeling.   As we approached by dinghy it became apparent that the island was teeming with nesting Bridled Terns.   They seemed unperturbed by our presence, so we anchored our dinghies and had a marvelous snorkel, circumnavigating the small island.   The west side was especially captivating, filled with arches and eroded caves.   Later I returned with my telephoto lens and took a few pictures of the birds.   When we returned to our boats, we found that the anchorage had become somewhat rolly, so Tusen Takk II and Arctic Tern moved one harbor south to Anse Canot, where we found blissful comfort.   Bodacious had her stabilizing fish out.   Although intended for stabilization while underway, they provided just enough area and weight to render sufficient at-anchor stabilization in the captain’s judgment to render a move unnecessary.

Next day, May 6, we all moved back to Les Saintes.   But to read about our adventures there, the gentle reader will have to tune in to the next exciting episode of “Chuck and Barb go cruising”.