Monday, 2 February, 2009
Martinique is a desert when it comes to internet wifi coverage. We have had none at anchor, save for a brief interlude in Fort de France, cadging free internet from a large gin palace anchored next to us. St. Pierre is equally unsullied by wifi radio waves, and I write in the hope that somewhere, somehow, I will be able to reach my dear readers with this post in the not too distant future.
The shock is back. Whit has made a mistake in his linkage of the wayward windlass to the periodic mild shocks we receive climbing, dripping, up the swimming ladder. I am not sure how he is responsible for the return of the shock, but I would like to think he is. He seems to know too much about the phenomenon to be without blame.
We arrived in St. Pierre yesterday afternoon after a leisurely sail up from Fort de France. St. Piierre is the last town in Martinique before the leap northward to the island of Dominica. Once the capital city, it was utterly destroyed by the explosion of Mt. Pelee about 110 years ago. We are anchored close to shore, near enough to make a nice swim to the beach and back through the deep clear water. Alicia, our resident designer and artist, is totally taken by the town perched along the shoreline, steep cliff rising behind, and Mt. Pelee looming a few miles distant. Usually shrouded, Pelee's peak was clear this morning. Last evening, at sunset, A. and I took a stroll arround the town and stopped in a little shoreside pizza restaurant to share a very resonably priced vegetarian pizza, some rum and red wine. The sunset was a show stopper and Alicia deeply regretful of having left the camera aboard Django. She has managed to fill up two camera memory chips and one USB stick with photos and video clips of our voyage so far. She has managed to figure out all sorts of things about Mum's camera that I would never have guessed it could do. We need more capacity.
While here in Martinique, Alicia has sold two copies of a stylised portrait print in a gallery in Bermuda. The logistics of organising additional prints in the sparse internet environment are of concern, but not unduly so. More importantly, she has come up with a scheme to launch her "Simply Beautiful" line of summer clothing without having to travel!
This morning before breakfast, after a calm night spent twisting on our anchor, bumping up against a mooring ball, and coming very close to our neighbour to the north, I determined to go ashore for a fresh baguette and bananas. Lovely breakfast listening to Chris Parker's extended discussion of the weather. Today we will clear out of Martinique and head for Dominica tomrrow morning. It is about 35 miles of sailing, so a good day's voyage. Today the weather is gorgeous, we will swim and walk and paint and practice guitar, and perhaps, photograph the sunset.
Martinique is a desert when it comes to internet wifi coverage. We have had none at anchor, save for a brief interlude in Fort de France, cadging free internet from a large gin palace anchored next to us. St. Pierre is equally unsullied by wifi radio waves, and I write in the hope that somewhere, somehow, I will be able to reach my dear readers with this post in the not too distant future.
The shock is back. Whit has made a mistake in his linkage of the wayward windlass to the periodic mild shocks we receive climbing, dripping, up the swimming ladder. I am not sure how he is responsible for the return of the shock, but I would like to think he is. He seems to know too much about the phenomenon to be without blame.
We arrived in St. Pierre yesterday afternoon after a leisurely sail up from Fort de France. St. Piierre is the last town in Martinique before the leap northward to the island of Dominica. Once the capital city, it was utterly destroyed by the explosion of Mt. Pelee about 110 years ago. We are anchored close to shore, near enough to make a nice swim to the beach and back through the deep clear water. Alicia, our resident designer and artist, is totally taken by the town perched along the shoreline, steep cliff rising behind, and Mt. Pelee looming a few miles distant. Usually shrouded, Pelee's peak was clear this morning. Last evening, at sunset, A. and I took a stroll arround the town and stopped in a little shoreside pizza restaurant to share a very resonably priced vegetarian pizza, some rum and red wine. The sunset was a show stopper and Alicia deeply regretful of having left the camera aboard Django. She has managed to fill up two camera memory chips and one USB stick with photos and video clips of our voyage so far. She has managed to figure out all sorts of things about Mum's camera that I would never have guessed it could do. We need more capacity.
While here in Martinique, Alicia has sold two copies of a stylised portrait print in a gallery in Bermuda. The logistics of organising additional prints in the sparse internet environment are of concern, but not unduly so. More importantly, she has come up with a scheme to launch her "Simply Beautiful" line of summer clothing without having to travel!
This morning before breakfast, after a calm night spent twisting on our anchor, bumping up against a mooring ball, and coming very close to our neighbour to the north, I determined to go ashore for a fresh baguette and bananas. Lovely breakfast listening to Chris Parker's extended discussion of the weather. Today we will clear out of Martinique and head for Dominica tomrrow morning. It is about 35 miles of sailing, so a good day's voyage. Today the weather is gorgeous, we will swim and walk and paint and practice guitar, and perhaps, photograph the sunset.
No comments:
Post a Comment