Lights from the island were visible in the wee hours of the morning. There weren’t a lot of lights, but there certainly were enough to make the fact that we were approaching land very obvious and very real. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!

As the sun rose, we eagerly checked out our new surroundings. The land we had seen on the radar last night was the island of Grande Terre, the eastern half of the butterfly. Shortly before dawn, we had approached from the southeast corner of Grande Terre, and were now following the coastline northwest, so the island was on our right. From what we could see, it looks to be very flat and pretty dry. The western half of the butterfly, Basse Terre, was due west, so it was directly ahead of us in the distance. Basse Terre is mountainous, lush and green, which contrasts sharply with Grande Terre. Even though Basse Terre was much farther away, because of its height, both the island and its infrastructure were more visible that the flat Grande Terre. From what we could tell, both islands were dotted with scattered buildings. As a bit of trivia, in French “Grade Terre” means “big land” and “Basse Terre” means “flat land”, so it seems the French misnamed the two islands. However, the names stem from the amount of wind. Grande Terre, being the easternmost island, gets big winds, and Basse Terre doesn’t get nearly as much wind.

Our destination was just south of where the two islands join together, on the Grande Terre side. As we moved deeper into the bay created by the two side by side islands, slowly but surely the ride became calmer and smoother. At 0930 local time we neared the marina in Point a Pitre, and the men brought in the paravanes. By now we were in pretty well protected waters and it was fairly flat. Once the paravanes were secured, we rounded a corner into an inlet where the marina is located. We’re not totally sure what we were expecting, but it was definitely more modern than we had anticipated. The marina was lined with what seemed like endless 3 and 4 story condominium complexes that all had waterfront views. The condos all seemed like they were high end and fairly new, though, honestly, they looked a bit weather beaten, most likely the after effects of some of the big storms that blow in here during the summers. Across the water from the marina is a series of high end, brand new looking and very attractive commercial buildings.

Both photos are taken from the mouth of the marina inlet. The first photo is looking back at Basse Terre. You can see some boats moored in the distance. The second photo is looking forward, and you can see some of the commercial buildings in the front left and the marina in the back left.

We called the marina office on the radio and were pleased to hear that they did have availability. We were told to wait at the inlet entrance. We watched as someone ran out of the office and jumped into a dinghy, then guided us to a spot directly in front of the office. The marina here is set up is like the one in Turteguris, Turkey. You attach your bow to a mooring ball using your own rope, then back in med moor style and tie the back of the boat to the dock. The guy in the dinghy helped us to secure the bow line, then Eric started to back up. Eric is a pro at backing into tight spots now, but squeezing between the ropes on either side of us added an extra layer to the challenge. Thankfully, there was little wind and the bay was totally calm, so he made it in with no problems.

We tied up and Eric turned off the motor. Ah, it was quiet and it was flat calm. Who could ask for more? Eric immediately went to the marina office to check in. Guadeloupe has now stolen the title of “easiest check in”. Eric literally filled in one form, the marina clerk faxed it to the authorities, and five minutes later the form was faxed back with an official stamp. Awesome!

As soon as the paperwork was done, we were all out the door in search of a restaurant for a big celebratory meal. We wandered around the marina complex for a little while, appreciating terra firma, enjoying the motion of walking, and noting the surroundings. There is a small commercial area in the complex, with low buildings that house a grocery store, a yacht chandlery, an internet café, a couple tourist shops and quite a few restaurants. There were a small handful of stores in the commercial section that were in really bad shape. They were empty, and we guessed the stores were wrecked in the hurricane a year and a half ago and never repaired. One building had a porch missing, and it looked like it had literally been torn it off.

It was quite hot outside, which is a nice change from the cold we had experienced over the last few months. We walked around the whole complex, and none of the restaurants was open for breakfast. We must have been delusional to think we’d find a breakfast place in France. 20 days at sea can do that to you. This photo is of part of the commercial area. You can see at the left where the commercial area abruptly ends and becomes residential condos.

We stopped by the grocery store and picked up sandwich fixings, then went back to the boat and ate small sandwiches to tide us over until lunch time. We all tried to resist the urge to take a nap, wanting to acclimate to land life as quick as possible, but none of us could. At noon we all got up and tried again for our celebratory meal. We picked a restaurant that offered free wifi so we could all check email while we ate. Needless to say, with three weeks of messages piled up, downloading email took a long time.

Eric ordered poisson cru, which was one of our favorite dishes in French Polynesia. There it is served as a simple dish of raw fish in coconut milk, lime juice and light veggies, and is a staple in the Polynesian diet. Here it was more complex, with heavy seasonings. It was OK, but not nearly as good as the more simple version we love. Christi ordered dorado, which came in a yummy sweet sauce. It was accompanied with what we think may be mashed sweet potatoes with heavy spices, which were unusual tasting. It was also accompanied with homemade stuffed crab, which was literally stuffing, like what you put in a turkey, that must have crab in it. For dessert, Christi ordered a flaming rum pineapple, which was a few pieces of pineapple in a heavy, sweet rum sauce that they lit on fire. We all agreed that the food was only so so, which was hugely disappointing given all the rave reviews we have heard about the food on Guadeloupe.

After lunch, the guys washed the shaft on the main, which gets salty after such a long passage. Colin took another nap. Christi and Eric visited with another cruising couple who had also just arrived from the Canaries. At dinner time, we again went out too early, forgetting that the French eat much later than we like to eat. Only one restaurant was open, and we suspect they opened early to accommodate us. Sigh. We have to learn to get used to the late European meal times again. Anyway, it was a Moroccan restaurant, and the food was quite good. The portion sizes were massive and we had a ton of leftovers. Christi and Eric were exhausted and passed out as soon as we got back from dinner.

Atlantic Passage Trip Summary

Departed: Las Palmas, Canary Islands, Spain
Arrived: Pointe a Pitre, Guadeloupe
Route: 2768 nautical miles, SW then W
Hours: 480 (20 days)
Fuel burned: ~950 US gallons (3590 liters) (76% of total fuel aboard)
Fuel left: ~290 gallons
Averages: 2.91 nm/gal, 1.97 gal/hour, 5.76 nm/hour
Generator hours: 15 (= air conditioning and laundry hours)
Water used/ made: 550/400 gallons
Active fins on time: 99%
Paravanes deployed time: 60%
Highest seas: ~10 feet.
Average seas: ~6 feet
Highest wind: 42 knots
Average wind: ~15 knots
Failures: Starboard navigation light bulb (replaced with spare)
Kosmos totals: 26091 nm, 4424 hours on main engine, 1712 hours on generator
Percentage of time we have been underway since we started our journey: 28%