Guadeloupe to Antigua
It was a quiet night at the marina. In the morning, I did what I was supposed to do the previous night – to wash the bathroom that I shared with Dmitry. The catamaran had 2 bathrooms, one on either side. The other bathroom was for the skipper Konstantin and Anna.
I felt bad that I left such a mess but I was absolutely incapable to clean after myself after a day in the rough sea.
I was having coffee in the cockpit when Dmitry came for a cigarette. He did not question why I was on the catamaran nor did he want to know my motifs for that but he simply suggested not to go across the Atlantic. Embarrassed by my performance, I could not agree more. The decision was made however I kept it to myself.
Dmitry told me stay on Dramamine. I obediently swallowed a tablet although I was fine, maybe a little weak but fine otherwise. Water in the marina was almost still.
We contacted the coast guard in Antigua. They told us to stay put until health authorities checked us in. We waited until 10 a.m. and nobody came. It was the same story at every island where we stopped. We went unnoticed as if we had been invisible.
Tired of waiting and doing nothing, we moved the catamaran to an atoll. The anchor went down with a thud. By some statistically improbable bad luck, it struck a rock on the sandy seabed. The impact ripped the anchor winch from its metal platform, the chain unwound to the very end ‒ all 60 meters of it (197 ft) ‒ and dropped into water but stayed attached.
Without the working winch, it took more than 3 hours to lift the anchor manually. Konstantin spent most of this time diving and releasing the chain which Dmitry, on the catamaran, wound back with his bare hands. When the anchor, at last, rose above water, it came up stuck in a big chunk of coral that had to be broken into smaller pieces with a hammer. It was backbreaking work for both of our male teammates.
Seeing no interest from Antigua authorities in checking us in, we left the island at 3.30 p.m. and sailed to their other large island, Barbuda. We reached it by 11 p.m. and dropped the anchor (manually!) for a night rest.
In the morning, we went around the island looking for a good place to swim. We came as close to the shore as we dared. The water was murky and not really pleasant for swimming. Fishing was unsuccessful again.
After a half a day at Barbuda, we bid it goodbye. Since I did not have a chance to step on Antigua & Barbuda’s soil I did not want to put this country on my ‘visited’ list. I think swimming in its territorial waters does not count as actually being in the country.
We were going to Saint Martin, the last stop before the yacht would begin her voyage to Europe. There was still a tiny, slim chance that I’d change my mind and stay on her board. What happened next was the decisive point of this trip and it had nothing to do with motion sickness. I stopped taking the tablets after 4 days at sea. My body adjusted, I no longer needed Dramamine. There were other circumstances to consider and they were not in favor of making this trip.