9 April 2018 St. Laurent de Maroni, French Guyana
We’ve decided that there’s not a huge amount to hold us here, so we’re planning to leave on the 11th and head directly to St Lucia, which is 680 miles away. Hence, we spent all day running about stocking up on Fuel, Food and Water. It’s amazing how long it takes – we started at 09:00 and poured in the last jerry can of water at 16:30 – almost Miller Time...
10 April 2018 St. Laurent de Maroni, French Guyana
After some heavy showers last night, the rain held off in the morning, allowing us to visit the Prisoners’ Transport Camp.
The prison at Saint-Laurent was a temporary stop for most prisoners. Only a small number of men stayed in Saint-Laurent for long, and they were nearly all employed in the penitentiary administration or were considered harmless and unlikely to try to escape.
When a ship arrived from France, the first order of the day was to separate the ex-escapee and the political prisoners from the rest, to send them to the Îles du Salut, from whose shores escape was considered impossible.
The remaining prisoners stayed for a month or two in Saint-Laurent, where they were put to work building the town while they were sorted into different camps or prisons. The ones considered to be shifty and eager to escape were sent to the islands. The least dangerous men, condemned to prison for petty offences, were offered jobs in the penitentiary administration.
The majority were sent to labour camps along the river, where they were forced to work 12 hours a day in mosquito infested jungle, with no clothes and given very poor rations. Many died and those that did return would have lost 20-30 kg of weight.
Those who were lucky enough to stay in Saint-Laurent were generally better treated than prisoners in other camps. Their work was simple, they were free to go wherever they wanted inside the prison, and were given better rations.
It’s compulsory to join a guided tour, which cost 6 euros, but it was very informative and well worth the money. The tour focused on the prison within the Transport Camp, which had separate sections for political prisoners; unruly or disobedient prisoners; and prisoners who had been freed, but who had broken laws.
Our guide showed us one of the Block Haus, which is where 50 men would be shackled together on concrete platforms as beds. More persistent offenders would be locked into tiny cells, similar to the ones that we saw in Iles Du Salut. They were shackled to the wooden bed and deprived of light for weeks on end.
He then demonstrated the heavy foot shackles by shackling Glenys to one of the beds. The shackle weighs 2 kilograms and depending on the severity of the punishment, the shackle would be placed over or under the leg. When over the leg, the heavy shackle would press on the shin causing severe abrasions and bruising.
We were shown a cell, where Papillon had allegedly scratched his name into the concrete floor during his stay. Our guide also told us about the guillotine and the strange practice of preserving the heads in brine at the local hospital. Apparently, there were 30 heads still there in the 1950s when the prison was finally shut down.
After our tour, Roman took us to Immigration and completed our exit clearance papers, so that we can leave tomorrow. We went and had a nice lunch at the Chez Felix restaurant, where we met up with “Amuse”. They serve a range of “jungle” meat including wild boar and Agouti.
In the afternoon, we did some jobs and prepared the boat for sea. The tides are not ideal because high tide is either at 03:00 or 15:00, so we’re planning to get up and go at dawn.
11 April 2018 French Guyana to St Lucia (Day 1)
The alarm went off before sunrise and we left the mooring just after 06:30, when we could see where we were going. The trip down the river was uneventful, with only the occasional fishermen pulling in their nets. We had the tide with us all the way to the river entrance. During the last ten miles along the approach channel, the tide slowly turned and, by the time that we reached the outer fairway buoy, we had 1½ knots against us. We left St Laurent de Maroni 3.5 hours after high tide, so I guess that the ideal time to leave would have been 2 hours after high tide.
The weather forecast for the next week is for ENE to E winds at 15-20 knots, so with 660 miles on a course of 320°T to St Lucia, we were looking forward to 4-5 days on a beam reach. We started out as expected with the wind 80 degrees off our starboard bow, but as the day progressed, we ended up very hard on the wind - the wind was coming from the North rather than the forecast ENE.
To make matters worse, there were squalls around, which backed the wind by 30-40°, forcing us 30° further west than our desired course. By sunset, we were very frustrated and praying that the north winds were a local, coastal anomaly and that there’ll be better winds as we leave the land behind.
I’m a lazy navigator. Normally, we just point the boat in the direction that will get the boat sailing along the required course over the ground. If we’re sailing downwind, things like magnetic variation, leeway and cross-current effects don’t bother us.
However, while trying to figure out why we were beating upwind, I noticed that our autopilot was set to 345° Magnetic, to achieve our course of 320° True. A bit of calculation figured out the 25° difference. In this part of the world, Magnetic North is 17° west of True North. So our course of 345° Magnetic was 328° True. Add 8 degrees for leeway because we were beating upwind and the mystery was solved.
Overnight, the wind veered about 20 degrees, coming from the NNE, so we weren’t as hard on the wind, but the wind speed increased by 5 knots giving us a bouncy ride with 3 reefs in the main and just the staysail. To make matters worse, there was no moon, so it was pitch black and we had a steady stream of squalls increasing the wind to 28 knots and producing heavy rain. It was a long, tough night.
12 April 2018 French Guyana to St Lucia (Day 2)
The dawn brought us a very dull day – completely overcast with drizzle. While we were having breakfast, a big cloud system passed over us and sucked up all the wind, so we had to motor for 40 minutes. The wind then started to pick up, and within 3 minutes, we were back to 20 knots. The good thing was that the wind had finally veered to ENE, putting us on a beam reach, so life was much more pleasant.
The seas have built up as we head north and, by midday, we had a large 3 metre swell and wind waves from the east. Our course was at 90° to the waves, so it was a rolly, corkscrew motion, but much better than bashing into waves like we did last night.
The day was a blur of cloud systems passing over us. Sometimes we’d have sunshine and 18 knot winds; and at other times, light rain and 25 knot winds. After reefing the staysail many times, we gave up and spent most of the day with 3 reefs in the main and 4 wraps in the staysail, so our boat speed varied between 4 and 7 knots, depending on the wind strength.
Just before dark, we came across a huge patch of Sargassum Weed, which was 100 metres wide and stretched in both directions parallel to the wind as far as we could see. When we entered it, we were lightly powered with a reefed staysail and the thickness of the weed was slowing us down. I had to let out more sail, which was still only enough to keep us moving at 3 knots.
Sargassum Weed normally accumulates in an area of the North Atlantic, known as the Sargasso Sea, where very large mats of the weed form, often many feet thick and miles wide. Early sailors used to believe that Sargasso Sea was a place where ships would get trapped in the weed and nightmarish monsters would prey on the crew. Their ghosts would be doomed to float in the sea forever. We were relieved to break free.
We had clear skies for most of the night, so without the damn clouds, the wind was more consistent at 18-24 knots from the ENE. This was a good fast beam reach, but we had a ½ knot current against us all night. The north-west setting current should be following the continental shelf and now that we’re 150 miles off shore, we must be in some kind of eddy.
During the night, at our changes of watch, the person starting the watch is normally still trying to wake up as they stagger into the cockpit. The person ending the watch passes over information about any weather patterns and sail adjustments.
Having been alone in the dark for three hours, these facts are often embellished with little snippets about the beauty of the stars, etc., which are totally ignored by the semi-comatose person coming on watch. It doesn’t matter which of us is coming on watch, we’re both equally rude.
13 April 2018 French Guyana to St Lucia (Day 3)
We had a lovely start to the day, with a few scattered clouds, but mostly blue skies. The winds were consistent at 18-24 knots and still from the ENE, keeping us on a beam reach. The 3 metre seas are the biggest problem because they’re hitting us side on. Most of the time, we get lifted up and rolled over to port to 30-40 degrees, which means that we have to hang on to something all the time – it’s very wearing.
Occasionally, we’ll get hit by a steep, monster wave, which will slam into the side of the boat, rattling the whole hull and sending a wall of water across the deck. We have our sprayhood up; our side flaps zipped to the bimini; and Glenys has fitted a lee cloth to the guard rails at the windward side of the cockpit. So far (touch wood), these preventative measures have kept the nasty seawater out of the cockpit.
The sun lasted until the afternoon, when the clouds rolled in. However, the wind gradually veered to the East at 18-24, so it was 20 degrees behind the beam, which made the motion a little better, but the occasional roaring wave kept us hanging on.
The clouds cleared around sunset and we had a pleasant night, sailing on a beam reach with 20 knots of wind. Earlier in the day, we’d escaped the counter-current, but it re-appeared and we spent most of the night with 1 knot against us.
We passed a few fishing boats, who didn’t have any AIS. From the sound of the Spanish chatter on the VHF radio, I guess that they were Venezuelan boats. With annual inflation running at 12,000% in Venezuela, I guess that there’s no chance that these fishermen could afford an AIS transceiver, but having to keep a track of their confusing lights makes life a bit more difficult for us.
On my 1-4 watch, I had a close encounter with one of the fishing boats. I was going at 90 degrees to his track, but he just kept on coming straight at me, presumably to come to have a look at us. He passed about 200 metres behind us, which was very stressful because there wasn’t a lot I could do – there’s nothing worse than bored fishermen.
14 April 2018 French Guyana to St Lucia (Day 4)
It was another pleasant, mostly sunny day with 18-24 knot winds varying between East and ENE. There’s still a lot of Sargassum Weed about, but we’ve not encountered any huge mats like a few days ago. However, there was a lot of weed on our decks this morning, so I took a stroll around and lobbed it all overboard. I had to clear out one of our deck drains, which was clogged up with the stuff.
Depressingly, we had a 1 knot current against us all day, but by sunset, it had dropped to half a knot. I’m hoping that the current will be more favourable as we get closer to our destination. At 19:00, we had 165 miles to go, so we’d have to average 6.9 knots to arrive in daylight, which was unlikely. However, it’s no problem to arrive in Rodney Bay at night because it’s a huge open bay.
The good weather continued into the night and, at our 22:00 watch change, we could clearly see the loom of Barbados, 35 miles ahead of us. Our route took us within 15 miles of Georgetown, but after much agonising, we decided to skip Barbados. We’ve read that the only anchorage is Carlisle Bay, which is mostly very rolly and is a hectic tourist destination complete with manic jet skis and pirate ship party boats. Hmmm, I don’t think so.
On my 1-4 watch, I added the final sections to my Alba Owner’s Manual. It’s been a long term project that has occupied my mind on all of the night watches since we left Namibia two months ago. It’s a brain-dump about how we use and maintain all of the equipment on Alba. There’s a lot of kit on a cruising boat, so it’s turned into a 180 page Word document. I now need to edit it and add some diagrams & photos, which will be a little on-going project for the next month.
15 April 2018 French Guyana to St Lucia (Day 5)
When we were directly west of Barbados, the wind dropped to 12-15 knots, so we shook the three reefs out of the main sail for the first time in three days and managed to carry on sailing at 5-6 knots. At 07:00, we were still 90 miles from Rodney Bay, so we resigned ourselves to a night land fall.
The amount of Sargassum Weed in the sea seems to be increasing as we head north. When I was having my morning constitutional around the deck, I heard a gurgling noise from the stern. I found a huge ball of weed wrapped around the Hydrovane rudder, which took me 10 minutes to get off with our gaff – I think that we were going ¼ knot faster once I had removed the drag.
I’ve read that Sargassum Weed is a huge problem in the West Indies because most of it ends up on the windward beaches of the islands, growing to several feet thick in places. Not only is it unsightly, but the rotting seaweed produces Hydrogen Sulphide, which smells of rotten eggs and, in high concentrations, can be a health hazard. The people who remove it from the beaches have to wear breathing apparatus.
The reason for the Sagassum Bloom is unknown, but the finger of blame is pointing at increased sea temperatures and at nitrogen-rich pollution washing into the ocean from the land, such as sewage waste and fertilizers.
The day remained fine with a steady 15-18 knot wind. We finally picked up a favourable 1 knot current at 16:00, but it was too late to make a real difference. We watched the sun go down over St Lucia and then had a lovely sail around the north end of the island, gazing at the sparkling lights on the houses ashore. It was an easy approach into Rodney Bay and by 20:00, we were safely anchored at 14°04.64N 060°57.66W in 7 metres of water.
We have now completed our circumnavigation of the world. We left St Lucia on the 21st January 2012, so it’s taken us 6 years and 3 months to complete the voyage. We’ve done 40,000 miles, visited 49 countries and had a great time. Our plan now is to get to Trinidad by the middle of June. That’s two months to sail only 220 miles – we’re on holiday.