Martinique
Author: Shirlz
The big shopping malls are a short bus ride out of town. I took a trip out to Le Marin which is a major yachting centre at the SE end of the island. The island must be heavily subsidised by mainland France as there is an impressive and beautifully maintained freeway system complete with traffic and flyovers. The bus ride gave me a cheap and interesting tour of the southern end of the island as it wound through valleys and along the green and thickly wooded coast. Side roads dipped steeply down to small villages.
When we reached the yachty Mecca of Le Marin I was glad that I hadn’t spent a day battling wind and current to get there by boat. Hundreds (thousands?) of yachts berthed, moored and at anchor, all herded together in the sheltered bay and completely overwhelming the natural beauty of the place. After a stroll around the quaint historic part of the town I tackled the enormous commercial area which has a complex layout of shopping malls often surrounded by fences which make pedestrian shortcuts impossible and force one to use the main entrance. Definitely designed with little regard for weary footsloggers carrying heavy loads of essential provisions. (Is this a rant?)
The anchorage at St Pierre is a narrow strip of shallow water close inshore which rapidly drops off to more than 20 m. When we arrived wind and waves were both urging us shoreward. I very nearly turned round to head back to St Lucia but found a reasonably tenable spot in the southern corner of the bay and anchored in 15m. It was rolly but the wind dropped in the evening and it was marginally more comfortable than Baie des Flamands.
The weather had improved wonderfully with the wind blowing from the east again which made the anchorage about as good as it gets. After a leisurely birthday breakfast I rowed ashore for a stroll through the town. It appeared to be a public holiday as all the shops were closed but there was live music and a festive atmosphere. Yesterday I had visited the Earth Sciences Museum on the slopes of Mont Pelée just behind the town. They showed a very good documentary film about the 1902 eruption. I was totally horrified not having realised how catastrophic it had been. There were warnings of volcanic activity but these had been totally misinterpreted by the experts of the day and thousands of people had actually relocated to St Pierre as they thought it would be the safest place to be. When the volcano erupted a cloud of hot gas (1000 deg C) and ash completely engulfed the town killing 28,000 people in a matter of minutes and sinking all the ships anchored in the bay. I left the museum in a rather sober frame of mind glancing anxiously at the threatening bulk of the volcano. The museum had been reassuring about the sophisticated modern methods of monitoring volcanoes and that there would be fair warning of further threats. I tried to stay happily confident but the cloud-topped Mont Pelée was a sobering reminder of the fragility of life. (Bear in mind that I have just turned 65 and am aiming to become a wise old woman).
May 14th, 2013 at 14:56
Thank you for your excellent blog with so much useful detail for others who may follow Speedwell’s wake. For dreamers, they can sit in their armchairs and enjoy.
Cheers,
Bill.
May 20th, 2013 at 08:53
Again another great posting! Boy do I feel bad now about not remembering your birthday, so belated happy birthday from all of the family here in England.