Saint Martin, April 2021

Barbuda to Saint Martin

Skipper Konstantin had a couple of friends in Saint Martin. One of them was Marina who lived there permanently on her yacht. She kept to herself and I did not have a chance to meet her, although indirectly, she became part of this story later.

The other Konstantin’s friend was Pavel. When we returned to the catamaran after the unsuccessful attempt to check in on Sunday, Konstantin went to Pavel’s yacht and brought him to us.

Pavel was of slim build and looked a bit shy. When he spoke in a quiet voice he cast his eyes down. He did not drink alcohol at all ‒ an unusual trait among yachtsmen compensated by heavy smoking and frequent use of expletives.

Konstantin and Pavel knew each other for years. Both were based on the Canary Islands, their daughters went to school together. Pavel and his family survived a hurricane in Saint Martin. After that, his wife and daughter returned home; Pavel stayed on the yacht.

Dmitry went hunting. Instead of catching edible fish, he speared a poisonous long-spine porcupinefish. Dmitry swore that the fish attacked him and it was in self-defense.

We fed Pavel a good hot lunch. He admitted that he mostly ate canned food and a cooked meal was a feast for him.

After that, all of us got into our Inflatable rubber dinghy and went to see Marigot. Miraculously, it did not sink under the weight of five grownup people. We did not dare to shift and held the breath when some boat went pass us and the waves from her rocked our dinghy.

After 3 days at sea, the group hit the first bar we came across as if there had been no drinking on board. Pavel and I abstained.

Marigot is the capital of the French part. The city is quite unremarkable save for the fortress on the hilltop. We did not go far, just made a loop around the center which is mostly small shops meant for tourists. I could easily picture these streets filled with vacationers and cruise ship passengers. Now, only the locals were around with a handful of foreigners like us.

We found a supermarket and bought fresh food. Now, we could not return to the catamaran all at the same time. Konstantin and Dmitry loaded the grocery bags in the dinghy and left. Anna, Pavel and I walked to the gas station near the lagoon entrance; Konstantin picked us up from there and took to the catamaran.

We sorted out our purchases when Dmitry had a sudden burst of temper.

‘Why did you buy apples? Who needs them here where you should eat mangoes and alike?’ he fumed at Anna.

‘What’s wrong with apples? You don’t want them then don’t eat them,’ said Anna being taken aback.

It was not the first time when Dmitry directed his frustration with something at Anna. Apples clearly were only a trigger. Anna was a soft target for him ‒ she could not resist answering Dmitry the same way instead ignoring his comments or turning them into a joke.

This minor conflict died down by itself as all previous ones but the tension between Dmitry and Anna built up. I thought that it was skipper’s responsibility to look after order on board. Being a newbie among experienced mariners, I kept quiet silently wondering why Konstantin did nothing. He pretended not to notice the compatibility issues between Anna and Dmitry.

We sat in the cockpit well after we finished dinner. Pavel spun endless yarns about his life as a yachtsman. He suffered from seasickness badly for 3 years throwing up during every storm. The love for seafaring made Pavel to keep sailing; eventually he overcame this condition.

Pavel said that Saint Martin was no longer as safe as it used be. Thieves came at night and stole dinghies, motors and anything else they could grab, especially from the boats close to the shore. Tiger sharks were spotted nearby; they did not live in these waters before.

It was late when Pavel bid goodnight to us and Konstantin took him to his yacht.

Marigot (continued)