Sailing with the Treleavens

It’s a wake up call when something goes off beam. It’s our last night in St Kitts, the winds have settled and we are looking forward to sailing the next day to the luxury island of St Barts.

It was dark; we were anchored in a bay with no other boats around. Ian had gone ashore to the Reggae Beach Bar, on his own, to send our last letter to you all. Thinking it was time he returned, I looked outside to see if the bar was closing and saw our dinghy floating out to sea! I did the ‘fish wife call’ and got his attention. Realising that he had no dinghy and with no other boats around he grabbed a surf ski and paddle. After falling off before getting the hang of it, he finally reached the yacht (luckily he had left the computer ashore).

By this stage the dinghy was out of sight so we up anchor. After circling the bay, we head out to sea with no luck, so we decide it could have been washed ashore to the other side of the bay. Ian wants to anchor on the lee shore and get on that surf ski thing again to look for it around the rocky shoreline. I can’t convince him not to, so on goes the life jacket, line to yacht and he paddles off towards the shore. Not 15 metres later, over he goes and I hear “I’m in trouble now”. The life jacket inflates automatically and nearly strangles him and then prohibits him from climbing back on the ski. Managing very quickly to let some air out of the jacket, he climbs back on the ski and I pull him back to the yacht.

This is why I am telling you about this stupid situation. Life jackets and automatic gas bottles. Ian’s not a very big man but if he was it could have been a very different situation. He is also lucky his years selling and demonstrating life jackets meant he knew exactly what to do very quickly.

We up anchor and return to the shelter side of the bay but without dinghy. Ian manages, after numerous calls, to get the security man at the bar on the phone. He runs along the beach and rocks while we follow his torch. Finding the dinghy very quickly, he starts the motor and returns it to us. A reward and a flash of white teeth; at least someone is having a good evening.

Our next three islands (St Barts, St Martin/Sint Maarten, and Anguilla) are only miles apart but so different, offering such a splendid variety even down to the currencies used.

St Bart is all luxury, expensive shopping and superb restaurants surrounded by a small unspoilt island. Everything a girl could want to celebrate 30 years of marriage can be found here. So what do we do? No need to shop for diamonds or pearls, we hire a car and look for the perfect lunch spot. ‘Nikki Beach Restaurant’ at Baie St Jean has lapping waves, white sand and breathtaking turquoise waters. For the evening we choose ‘Caviar Bar’ where we relax on cushions, drinking Champagne. The only thing missing is our friends, family and readers… love to you all, thank you for being part of our lives!

Gustavia is the main port/town with every major fashion house (Gucci, Dior) and watch labels (Rolex, Cartier) will be wall to wall with super yachts by Christmas. The port is small, so yachts like us anchor out. Be in early otherwise you have to anchor too far out unprotected to the big swell. Our first impression is the sky blue colour of the very clear water and very inviting. St Barts, or to use its correct name St Barthelemy, after Columbus’ brother, was initially settled by the French, then the Swedes and then back to the French. The architecture is a mixture of design and colour of both cultures. Then in the 1960s, at the beginning of tourism, the locals grabbed hold of the concept and has never looked back.

Around the corner is Anse de Colombier, a nature reserve bay. From now on laid moorings will become more frequent protecting the ocean floor. Here turtle heads frequently return to the surface alongside the yacht for air. A storm to the north has created a large swell so after another uncomfortable night in rolling seas we set sail to the island of St Martin. We have a fast 25nm reach to enter on the French side; less bureaucracy than the Dutch side.

One island, two countries - Sint Maarten is Dutch and St Martin is French. This is an island like no other islands because it has inland water, Simpson Lagoon, and can only be entered by lifting bridges. Since we have come in on the French side, the yacht must stay on their half of the waterway although we, in our dinghy, can go anywhere without passports. Being in here has its advantages with the main one being the shelter, it has been very windy (a time known as the Christmas winds) and to have no worries for a while will be nice.

It is very commercial ashore with the International Airport, duty-free everything and big nautical shops servicing all the marinas full of every boat imaginable. Ian has a list of fix it, fill it or replace it to keep him busy.

Everywhere we go we always look for fellow New Zealanders or Australians and at last in the lagoon we spy a Swan 48 flying an Aussie flag. Owned by a CYCA Youth Academy sailor with his CYCA member family on board, Shane Diethelm has just sailed down from the USA with his new purchase. With him are his parents, Basil and Angela, and brother Tristan.

The 3rd island, Anguilla, is the unspoilt gem of them all and that’s where we will be for Christmas Day and a return to a slower pace.

From the West Indies we wish you all a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Our last night in Antigua is spent in Jolly Harbour and we come face to face with the law. After a cocktail onshore and a chat to friends on Skype we take off in our inflatable dinghy and nearly run down another big inflatable coming in the opposite direction. Evasive action and terse words from me ‘where are your lights?’ turns out to be the coast guard. Here they are in a black inflatable, six men in black, and no lights in a harbour. They stop us and want to know who we are and blame us for speeding (we had only just left the dock in a 6hp). Laughable all we wanted to know was what they were doing. Apparently they cruise the waters in the dark looking for suspicious things. One would think this irresponsible in our opinion but we are just happy to be sent on our way.

From Antigua there are many islands to visit next, Montserrat to the west, the island that erupted only 13 years ago and only half of the island can be visited. To the North West is St Kitts and Nevis but we decide to go north to Barbuda which is 27nm away. Isolated, difficult to navigate, not exactly in line with where we won’t to go and the reason not many yacht go there. The main attraction for us is a colony of migrating Magnificent Frigatebirds that breed here and our timing is perfect for the mating season, you will see why later in the letter.

Our last windward sail is in depths of only 22 metres all the way, passing reefs but that’s the easy bit. Five miles out and as far as the eye can see its turquoise water, white beaches for miles and a very low landscape. The pilot book recommends that Cocoa Bay is a good anchorage behind a reef. On arrival we see no pass through the coral reef but at an angle there is one. Heart in mouth stuff as Ian navigates into the bay, I am on the bow spotting bommies with hand signals and we zigzag all the way in. We passed so close to one, we could have picked off a sea urchin, scaring the hell out of us. Once inside we didn’t like the idea of only being able to leave when the sun is behind us because this is the only time you can spot the coral heads.

Our new found anchorage is off Cocoa Point Resort and paradise found. We are the only yacht and with the resort not open, we are the only foot print in the fine white sand beach that’s six miles long. Soaking up the atmosphere along with an orange sunset, it’s a privilege to be here. Twenty miles north along the coast we pass the pink sand of 11 Mile Beach and anchor where we are picked up by a guide in an open boat, to take us up the mangrove lagoon to the Frigatebird colony.

From a distance we can see the sky is black with circling birds and on arriving I have never seen such a beautiful sight. Nestled on top of the mangroves, thousands of Frigatebirds, the male’s breast swollen into a red neck sitting on the eggs, baby chicks being fed, fighting over food, squawking and mating noises. We sit quietly and come in close; this is amazing, so natural but wild.

The Frigatebird has a wing span of six feet, the greatest area in proportion to their weight of any bird and cannot enter the sea because of no natural oil in their feathers. They feed by skimming the surface and harass other birds to give up their food (hence their name Frigatebird or Man of War) and as they drop it, they swoop it up mid air. They look awkward on land, but in the air very graceful as they glide with their huge wing span in the trade winds.

Regrettably we have to leave this absolutely beautiful peaceful place. I try and stay longer but the call of the wind and Ian sees a fast run down hill to St Kitts 60nm. 30 knot winds and we are wing and wing with the headsail poled out surfing off waves. Ian always has the pole attached independent to the headsail. So every time a rain squall comes through it is very easy to reef the sail back in with pole still staying in place. As the wind abates its just a matter of rolling it out.

Getting close to land with a three metre swell running I am getting nervous. We have to sail through the Narrows, the passage between Nevis and St Kitts which is littered with reefs and gets very shallow, down to eight metres. The yacht draws two metres and my math’s tells me it’s going to be touch and go if we dip on a wave at the wrong time. Under half a mile the sea goes from 600 to 8 metres but as it turns out the swell got less, not more, thank goodness.

St Kitts on arrival at the main port of Basseterre is initially disappointing; don’t believe all you read in an advertisement. The marina is not for yachts as stated , the yachts in the harbour are rolling 20 degrees and that leaves not a lot of choices for the night. Persistent Ian nags the dock master to leave his home and finally he lets us stay on the wall. Cruise ships arrive every day and their life boats take priority bringing in the hundreds of passengers. They find us another berth (They love their cricket here and especially the Australians, Cricket day means a public holiday).

Tours are for the cruise ships and one way to fix that is to join them. Unique to this island is the sugar cane railway which circumnavigates the island. Built in 1905 it is the only original cane train in the Caribbean, but only for tourism now as the sugar cane market collapsed with the withdrawal of subsidies by the EU.

The locals are very happy friendly people with not a lot to worry about. Despite the fact that this was the first British Island settled in the Caribbean it does not show any benefits of this. Without tourism it would struggle. It is a pity that they do not utilise this very fertile island more to supply produce to the neighbouring islands.

Our next island is St Barts to the north, the winds still up so we find a bay on the southern end of St Kitts and anchor, we in no hurry. A diver snorkels around our yacht and comes up with 12 huge conch shells. Still not used to the locals collecting and eating them, we watch the meat being removed but we still have no urge to accept his offer to try one; although he does tell us it is even nicer to eat than lobster.

Ashore in Cockelshell Bay is the Reggae Beach Bar and our first Christmas carols to the Reggae beat. No problem passing the time here, the sign says ‘Rush Slowly’ and Ian soon has them all talking about the history of cricket.