Martinique!

Christmas Eve BBQ

Whilst still drinking the champagne we had opened after anchoring, we were quickly introduced to Caribbean weather. And the heaven’s opened. Holy cow did they open. We carried on drinking the fizz whilst waiting for it to pass and then fired up the BBQ for celebratory steaks. After a long, hot shower all 3 of us went to bed.

Now I love Christmas. REALLY love Christmas but the only times I have really struggled with it has been when abroad. There is something very weird to me about being in a hot country at Christmas. Plus my decorations were all in Israel on old Diablito being given a very stern ignoring. So this year we facetimed the family, swam off the boat, drank wine, ate more BBQ and watched Family Guy. And Christmas, a time when some people prepare for weeks trying to make everything perfect, foolishly get themselves into debt they then spend a year trying to clear, worrying themselves silly about buying and preparing food, argue and eat too much turned out to be just another day. And before we knew it, Christmas day was gone as was our first full day in the Caribbean.

Boxing day check in!

We had deliberately planned to arrive in the French Antilles, or more specifically, Martinique as I had read they were really laid back about bringing dogs in. We were anchored off Anse Caritan so took the dinghy about a mile upwind into Marina Marin. After we poured ourselves out of the dinghy and wrung our clothes out as much as we could, Lee went into the Captineros office, the staff helped him complete the online forms as the keyboards are different to UK ones, and that was that. No vet visit necessary. Now fully legal with Franco, our biggest worry was over. I bought a baguette and some cheese, and after a significantly easier return trip, we spent the rest of the day eating, drinking rum punch and watching the amazing turtles swim by.

This is my marina now Kemosabe.
Browsing the dog dinghies.

The next day we had decided to go for a walk. I have a brilliant App called Alltrails which is all about walks and hikes, so I knew there was a great 16km loop right opposite where the boat was anchored. We prepped everything and Lee brought the water as this was going to weigh the most. And off we went to stretch our legs.

The walk was absolutely incredible. For about 10 km.  Then Lee said we were out of water. And it was hotter than the surface of the sun. For someone that may or may not have been used to doing lots of walking in hotter climates, he had somehow decided that 2, 750ml bottles of water was sufficient for the 3 of us. For 16km. In about 90 degrees. The last 6km were slightly less enjoyable as we had a matrimonial discussion which resulted in Lee agreeing he had screwed up. Eventually, about 500m before we reached the dinghy we saw a garage and Lee bought 3 ice cold bottles of water that were inhaled by each of us and that was the end of that enjoyable, fun filled family day out!

Us, all the way down the bottom.

But first, a little bit about Martinique. It is in the Caribbean Sea and is one of a few French Islands that are part of the French Antilles, or France overseas. It is a French region and as such, it depends on the French State, the official language is French (plus créole Martiniquais), and the currency is the euro. And they sell AWESOME French food!!!!

Martinique’s heritage comes from various cultures with Creole, African, French and Indian influences which are protected and highlighted through their museums, distilleries, gardens, and Creole houses. It is also an island, like most others in the Caribbean, that has a violent past steeped in slavery which was permanently abolished by France in 1848. It is also stunningly beautiful and with a massive infrastructure making life here far easier than some of the other islands.

So after that little history lesson it was time for an explore. Lee had managed to let 2 different driving licences expire, so he had to make do with me driving. Which was nice. As apparently I drive it like I stole it. All I could see was Lee pumping the imaginary breaks and trying to wrap the seat belt around him 5 times.  Quite clearly in another life I should have been a rally driver. However in this one I’m just menopause mean married to a husband with no driving licence. So first stop was Trois Îlets, home to Napoleon’s Josephine.

Trois Îlets
Church where Josephine was baptised.
Walkway where Josephine walked with her Mini Mali. That’s probably not entirely true.
Les Anses D’Arlet.

The next day we hugged the coast and went around the West Side of the Island, stopping at everything the Lonely Planet guide suggested. One of which was Les Anses D’Arlet. Its a small hamlet with a pretty church and pier and ridiculously overpriced and surprisingly bad sandwiches. We took the obligatory photo, chewed some Rennies to ensure the aforementioned bad sandwich had gone down and carried on our way.

Mémorial de l’Anse Cafard


I had read about a slave memorial that I wanted to visit, so we headed there. The memorial, which overlooks the sea, commemorates both the slaves who perished in a shipwreck off the coast of Martinique in 1830, and more generally, the tens of thousands of enslaved Africans who were taken to Martinique as part of the transatlantic slave trade. Arranged in a triangle the 15 stone figures face the ocean, leaning forward with their eyes cast downwards. It was a very sad, quiet place of reflection, and had been done perfectly.

After taking some time at the memorial to reflect, we carried on our travels.

We carried on and stopped at some really pretty beaches, waterfalls, streams and rainforest. Super pretty. This was all en route to Saint Pierre. Which is another place with a cheery story!

Saint Pierre

It was in Saint-Pierre that the first French settlers landed in 1635 and quickly started to trade in tobacco, cocoa and then sugar, and finally the slave trade. It was nicknamed “Little Paris” due to its beautiful houses, tramways, electricity and high end restaurants and the theatre. It soon became the economic and administrative capital of Martinique, and in April 1902 had 26 000 inhabitants, although not for long.

All of this was completely destroyed on Thursday, May 8, 1902, when Mount Pelee erupted. It killed everyone in the city bar 1 person who was saved by the thick prison walls that protected him. Attempts were made to reconstruct the city after WW1, but it never really took off, and it is now a pretty but tired town that makes its money from tourists visiting the ruins from the volcano eruption. Unlike in many places the ruins are free to walk around and free from graffiti.

The old prison
The intact prison cell that housed the sole survivor of the volcano.
The entrance to the ruined theatre
Franco having a McDonald’s.

Despite the sunny photos, it was blowing over 30 knots everyday where we were anchored and the rain was becoming biblical. After 1 near death experience getting in on the dinghy we decided to check into the marina for a few days, get some jobs done and do a shop.

Resting his tired little legs.

There was a persistent low front hanging over Martinique, resulting in a very wet and windy couple of weeks. This got a bit tedious as trying to dry everything off was hard work, so we decided to head North for a bit a see what that was all about. Franco went to the vets for his leaving examination, was issued his health certificate, given his worming medication and we made an appointment with the vet at our next stop. Leaving on a now rare sunny day, we weighed anchor, left the anchorage, chucked the sails out and on a cracking reach, headed North.

Bye for now Martinique!