12/7/2020
After a few hours out on the open water later, wind in the sails and in our hair, we were approaching the mouth of the archipelago of Iles des Saints. Iles des Saints is a cluster of 4 small islands with steep, red-brown cliffs and white sandy beaches stretching along the coast below. There is apparently only one small town in the archipelago, located on the largest island, Terre d’en Haut. We were aiming to anchor outside this little town in a what was meant to be a relatively wide and protected bay. The islands have been French since shortly after they were colonised, with a strong link to Brittany and the north of France. Their sole source of commerce for a long time was fishing. As the islands were never agricultural, slaves were never imported, so most residents descend from mainland France, with residents of African decent having arrived fairly recently and, unlike many islands in the Caribbean, voluntarily. The islands also apparently have an interesting military history, as they served as an important naval base for Napoleon. There is an old Napoleonic fort on the island that Stephen and I are keen to check out.
We didn’t really know what to expect on approach, as the southern entrance to the archipelago is a little intimidating, with the passage between the steep islands barely visible until you are practically upon it. Stephen and I just had to trust our charts that we were on the right heading and that this opening would make itself known before we got smashed into the rocks. The approach was further complicated by strong winds and a fierce cross swell rolling in from the Atlantic. Florence was bouncing around all over the place as we tried to find the gap in the cliffs that should open up the channel weaving up through the islands. The passage did indeed open up, though it was relatively narrow and we had a large and somewhat annoying cat right on our tail who insisted on overtaking us rather than coming in behind us.
After weaving our way through the islands, we turned right around the edge of Terre d’en Haut, and the beautiful bay off of Bourg des Saintes opened up in front of us. It was picture perfect – a big blue bay with a charming Gallic town stretching along its coast, with mountainous hills rising to the east and west of it. Most of the bay is unfortunately occupied by a mooring field in which anchoring is prohibited. All the balls themselves were already taken (seems this is a popular spot for yachties), so we found ourselves decently far out in the bay trying to anchor in 15 meters of water. It seemed significantly less protected out here and would make for a long dinghy ride into town, but it was our only option. Once settled, we wasted no time hopping in the dinghy to check out the town.
The town itself was lovely – a tiny French-Caribbean paradise, with dozens of little bakeries, ice cream shops, boutiques, bars and restaurants lining the main drag. It also seemed yacht friendly, with a good public dinghy dock (always a blessing) and places to provision.
Stephen and I were keen to go on a hike to the tallest peak on the island called Le Chameau where an old Napoleonic lookout tower sits. It is about 1,000 feet in elevation, open only to foot traffic, and we were both feeling it from about ¾ of the way up. Burn baby, burn! I always appreciate an opportunity to properly use our legs and get our heart rates up, as some days, especially passage days, can have you taking a grand total of 26 steps or something pathetic like that.
So finding great hikes ashore is always a win, especially if they include amazing views. The summit of Le Chameau did not disappoint. It provided near panoramic views of the whole archipelago below, and we were able to point out all the different summits, beaches and coves we had read about, with the Atlantic Ocean crashing beyond. It was one of the most stunning vistas we’d seen on this entire trip.
On our walk down, we decided to further strain our limbs by hiking down to a beach called Pain de Sucre, or Sugar Bread Beach. You had to scramble down a fairly steep dirt path before being dumped out onto a small and picturesque little beach tucked into a cove on the leeward side of the island. It looked like the perfect little anchorage and worlds calmer than where Florence was currently sat clinging for dear life to the sea bed, but we’d read that anchoring was prohibited here, so alas, we’d stay put. One of the nice things about Terre d’en Haut is it’s size, with everything on the island accessible either by long walk or short drive, and we felt that in a day we had already gotten a good sense of the island just on foot.
That night, we took advantage of being on French soil and ventured into to what looked like an amazing wine bar called Au Bon Vivre. We were sat in a back garden with fairy lights twinkling in the branches above and were soon handed the most comprehensive French wine list we’d seen since Cap Ferrat on the Riviera! We would be having a bottle, thanks. The staff were energetic and helpful, and the food was likewise impressive - high quality traditional French food made with fresh Caribbean ingredients. It was one of the best meals we’d had in a while and felt like a proper date night, which is nice. When you live literally on top of your partner, have zero privacy, and sometimes feel more like co-workers than anything else, finding the moments to get away from boat problems and just appreciate each other can be really precious.
After what was a less than comfortable night on anchor, we both woke up feeling a bit the worse for wear. There seemed to be a bit of a northerly component to the Atlantic swell finding its way around the north tip of the island and rolling into the bay, which combined with continued high winds made for a choppy/rolly/relatively sleepless night. This place couldn’t all be paradise I suppose. We ventured ashore again early, as the boat was just not a pleasant place to be at the moment, and decided to make the trek up to the Fort Napoleon Museum. It was a decent hike up to the other end of the island, though not as gruelling as our hike the day prior. The fort itself was perched right at the top with a magnificent view over the bay and the town. The fort was built in 1867 and served as an important strategic outpost for the French fleet, although the area was also the site of one of their more crushing defeats. The famous Battle of the Saintes took place in 1782, when England’s Admiral Rodney absolutely demolished the French fleet under De Grasse. The museum had several large-scale models of the old war ships used in these battles, which were impressive things. Stephen and my experience living at sea has made us increasingly fascinated by naval history. Just sailing Florence around the oceans has been a full time job, and we aren’t being chased down by 90-gun war ships trying to blow holes in our topsides from all angles. Major respect for any naval officer making war out at sea. Not for me, friends! Inspired, Stephen and I decided we’d watch Russell Crowe dominate the French in a Master and Commander movie night that evening.
After another dinner at Au Bon Vivre (hey, if it ain’t broke) and another relatively sleepless night rocking around on anchor, we decided that as lovely as Les Saintes has been, it might be time to move on. The wind was still howling, the swell still choppy, and I didn’t think I could handle another rough night. We wanted to up anchor first thing to set sail for Guadeloupe, though we were frustrated to discover a charter boat had come in overnight and anchored directly in front of us and were more than likely on our chain. Amateur move. We had to dinghy over to their boat and try to rouse them to explain the problem. Their skipper was very friendly however, and after what was likely also a sleepless night on their boat, their crew seemed keen to move on as well. We told them we’d prefer for them to leave first in case our chains were crossed, to which they obliged. As they pulled their chain up, we could feel ours grumbling and straining at certain points, confirming our fears that they had in fact laid their chain on top of ours. It wasn’t a huge issue though, as they didn’t trip our anchor, and once they were clear, we had no problem getting our chain up as well. Once away, we set the sails immediately as we had good wind and were on our way, screaming on a broad reach up towards the big island of Guadeloupe. We planned to enjoy a quick stop on this island to help break up our journey further north to Antigua, and to hopefully get some sleep!
