Getting to the Caribbean from California isn’t easy. Or quick. So my travels to Martinique were long and challenged with various delays and cancellations. LAX-Houston was easy. Gates were close and flights on time. Until we approached Miami, where we were held up by airport control and had to circle in a holding pattern for awhile as Air Force One was leaving MIA with the short fingered vulgarian on board — leaving yet another rally. Of course all the planes were delayed — arriving and departing, which meant that we had another delay waiting for a gate to open up. Which meant that the flight was 90 minutes late, and that some of the corridors to the exit were closed by then. Finally getting to the arrivals area it took me a little while to figure out where the airport hotel shuttles picked up. And while the hotel message system said that the shuttle was running, I was unable to reach the front desk. Now sometime after 10PM I opted for a taxi. Basic airport hotel, but without a hair dryer, hand towels or any channel below 37 on the system. And on email I learned that my Air France flight in the morning would be delayed by an hour. Which shouldn’t impact connections, but would make them tight. A worry for the next day. Still on California time, but exhausted from the day, I was able to sleep with the help of some drugs.
Not wanting to take chances, I got to the airport in plenty of time for the 9:10AM flight, which was headed for Pointe de Pitre, Guadeloupe by way of Port-a-Prince, Haiti. All went smoothly, and after immigration I had to walk to the regional terminal to connect to an Air Antilles flight. On the board the 3:45PM flight was listed, as well as the 4:30PM. The ticket agent in Miami had put me on the 4:30PM, so I asked if I could still make the 3:45PM, and the agent didn’t say no, so it wasn’t until I got through passport control and security that I realized my ticket still said 4:30PM. The 3:45PM wasn’t listed on the gate; spoke to an agent who indicated that there had been something wrong with the earlier flight. (In other words, it had been cancelled). I didn’t understand that it had been cancelled until I finally was able to get online and see the notifications. Anyway, I landed in Fort de France, Martinique finally at 5:30 or so. Taxi to the hotel. Exhausted and hungry. Met Bill and Elke and walked to dinner. Which was French and therefore not speedy.
Long and short of those two paragraphs is that it takes forever to get from Cali to the Caribbean, that it wasn’t smooth traveling, and I lost 2 full days. Thursday and Friday were all devoted to the travel gods. Which leads me to the date that this adventure really began.
On Saturday, January 25, we had most of the day to explore Fort de France or any other part of the island. We weren’t due to meet the dinghy until 6, although we knew we were able to go earlier if we made it to the appointed spot and contacted them. We had agreed to visit and tour the Fort de Saint Louis, which has protected the harbor for centuries. When we arrived at the gate, we were told that we required a tour guide and ticket — which were to be arranged at the information office. The next tour in English was at noon. So we explored the covered marketplace and strolled the shopping streets — busy on a Saturday with locals. At noon we were back at the tourism office and assigned with 5 others to tour the Fort with Maurice.
Born on Martinique but raised on Saint Lucia, which is why he spoke English, Maurice had a real interest in history and did a great job telling us about the Fort, which has been renamed several times, but also gave us a brief history of the Caribbean islands, Which, not surprisingly was really all about wars between England, Spain, France and the Netherlands. The European powers would trade them like playing cards, and wage war against the Caribes, and then import slaves from Africa to work the plantations (tobacco and sugar cane mostly). Another example of the white colonial powers overtaking and enslaving peoples far from their shores, in the name of power and money. The Fort is now the home to the French navy, whose primary mission is humanitarian aid in the area.
After lunch we took a 15 minute ferry ride from the port to Pont de Bout, a marina around the bend but easiest to reach by ferry. It was there that Elke found her brother, who had just flown in from Germany. The skiff arrived shortly afterwards — around 3:30, and we were on the Florette in short order.
The Florette is a 100 year old Brigatine sailing ship. Built in Italy by a master shipbuilder, it has been retrofitted and updated over the decades to be a tall ship accommodating about 20 passengers on sails through the Mediterranean. This is the first year that the ship has made the Atlantic crossing in order to winter in the Caribbean. The ship has been in the Haynes family for years; Rony’s parents began the business in 1958. It’s now owned and managed by Rony and his wife Nicole, and is based in Malta. He is German, she is from Canada and their two daughters, aged 11 and 13 are currently “ship-schooled”.
Over the course of the late afternoon we were joined by the other guests, all of whom are German. 6 couples, plus 3 adult children of one couple, Bill & Elke, her brother and me. Bill and I are the only native English speakers; even the crew speak German. Nicole and the her kids speak English regularly. And it’s not really an issue with Elke and others to translate. But it is interesting when they are all sharing a joke or speaking amongst themselves. And of course the men mostly wear speedos, which I’ve always not appreciated. Many of them have been on board before; in the Mediterranean, so some already know the rules and the way things work. Elke’s brother, Bernd, has been on several sails, and was one of the crew on the Atlantic crossing.
Dinner was on board, and quite wonderful; they have a grill so there were pork chops and sausages and several salads. There’s an honor bar so plenty to eat and drink. Sunset was gorgeous and most guests headed to cabins by 10 ish. The sway of the boat takes a little getting used to, as does the bathroom/toilet etiquette. After falling asleep, I was awaken, as were many on the ship, by loud Caribbean reggae electronic type music. Very annoying and impossible to drown out with earplugs and a blanket over my head. And with people up this morning by 6, it was also a very short sleep. Turns out there was a small boat anchored next to ours with a boom box and some guys smoking weed. Fingers crossed we won’t have this program again.
I think it will take me some time to get used to the slow pace and lack of specific planned activities. It’s more than island time…
