Lyn's Log, 19th December 2006
St Kitts

Basseterre, St Kitts.
N17º13', W62º40'
11,469 miles.

Friday 15th December was the opening of the St Kitts Carnival season. We remembered Carnaval in Salvador a year ago when two million people thronged the streets from 6pm to 6am. We hadn’t expected anything like that, but from what we did see we had to conclude that St Kitts hadn’t quite got the idea. This first night, a stage had been erected near the marina with a number of food stalls around and a band was playing. Then we realised that there was singing, of a sort. We went to investigate and decided it must be the youngsters’ karaoke night. The Michael Jackson wanabees were singing so out of tune that even the band was giving up on them. The adults standing round looked as enthusiastic as parents at a kids school concert. At half past eight this stopped, and we thought “Ah, now things are really going to get started”. But no, it had all finished for the night!

Then, the following afternoon, a band was starting up in Independence Square, with all the hi-fi kit, food stalls etc as if expecting a crowd. We listened for a while and they were really quite good. But there were fewer people in the audience than on the stage, and a couple of hours later they were packing up. That evening was Saturday and we had high hopes. All the equipment was put up again, then a woman speaker addressed the audience on the subject of domestic violence. We gathered that she considered it of paramount importance to tell everyone else about what had happened to her, but after two hours non-stop, we were still none the wiser. (We had little choice but to listen, given the volume.) The whole address was delivered in a singsong voice, with frequent references to “The Lord” and occasional interjections of “Halleluiah” from the audience, like a praise meeting. Again at half past eight it stopped and we thought that at last the partying would start, but once more they were all done for the night. Apart from the Christmas lights decorating the streets, these were the only signs of celebrating we saw. We were told that it is on Boxing Day and New Year when there are all night drunken orgies. As is said of us English, it seems the St Kittians take their pleasures sadly.

St Kitts is the only Caribbean island still to have a railway. There was a narrow-gauge track round the island that until recently was used to collect the sugar cane and bring it to one central mill. With the collapse of the sugar industry, more than half the track had been restored and was providing a scenic trip for holidaymakers from the cruise ships. We were too late to take a trip that day, but decided to walk out to the abandoned part of the railway, about a mile or so out of town. We had a lovely walk beside some of the old track and came across a goods yard full of the old rolling stock gradually rusting away. Finally we found the terminus station and the information that the next train would be on Tuesday when the next cruise liner was due. As it would cost nearly £100 for the two of us to travel maybe 18 miles of track and be brought back by road, we weren’t sorry to have missed out.

Saturday night we met Doug. Andrew and Doug had got to know each other through writing on a sailing forum on the Internet. Doug was born and lives on St Kitts, and is the honorary Dutch consul, the reason for which being so complex we could only infer it was a hereditary title. He kindly brought us a bottle of our favourite old Mount Gay rum, which we all spent the rest of the evening guzzling down. We drunkenly agreed to reconvene the next morning for a trip around the island (see pic).

Greatly to our surprise, at eight o’clock the following morning there he was and hangovers had to be put on hold. Highlight of the tour was his motor boat, anchored precariously among the reefs at the southern end of the island. The only way to reach it was to wade out almost to head height in the breakers. Doug dived down to release the anchor and brought the boat a little closer to the shore in order to refuel it with canisters of petrol, while we ordered lunch from the convenient beach bar. Eventually we were ready to wade out to the boat and we roared off around the southern end of the island exploring all the little bays along the way. It made a nice change for us to go at speed and we both had a go at steering.

That evening we rounded off a memorable day with an excellent restaurant meal with Doug. We left the marina next day and anchored off one of the little bays further south, passing Doug’s house which is beautifully located on a cliff with views across to Nevis. Early next morning we prepared to head north to the Dutch/French island of St Maarten.