Leaving St Maarten proved almost impossible.
Bob the Cat finally got back in the water on the 23rd, and we had all intentions of leaving Simpson Bay Lagoon that afternoon. Situated on the eastern side of the island, the Lagoon is a fully enclosed water body which is only accessible from the outside under one of the two lifting bridges, one on the Dutch side, and one on the French side. Another lifting bridge divides the lagoon in half, separating the French and the Dutch sides. We want to go through the lifting bridge to the French side, exit the lagoon through the next lifting bridge, and then on to Orient Bay, where we are hoping for a nice holiday with a bit of kitesurfing.
The last day in the Megayard is hectic. Our credit cards are sucked dry, and David has to drive around to try to get internet to transfer money so that we can access funds again. I give him my card, writing my pin on the back of his hand, so he can raise money for us both. He comes back reporting that my PIN didn’t work, and I realise I gave him the wrong code. The yard charges about double what we were quoted, so I set off trying to raise more cash, armed with the right PIN code. It takes half an hour of walking in the hot midday sun to reach the nearest ATM, which promptly swallows my card, the machine displaying a message that it has been reported lost or stolen. Only I’m the card holder, and I haven’t, but I guess David’s attempts to get money using the wrong PIN code is bound to raise the alarm. The bank manager is lovely, but insists that she can’t release the card unless she hears from my bank, and it takes another four hours and several phone calls to Westpac to get the card released. At the end of it all, I am back where I started, no cash available for another 24 hours, but I am too grateful to have the card back to complain about this delay.
At this stage we’ve missed the plumber who was going to call Marie-Claire’s flat at midday to let us know when he could come to fix the water leak which is worsening rapidly, the water now pouring out of the pipe.
There is much delay getting us in the water – another boat has some engine problems and needs to stay in the dock until it is sorted. So by the time we’re back in, it is too late to exit the Dutch side, and we reluctantly anchor back by the superyachts for one more night, vowing that it will be the last.
The next day we get up early and plan to cross the lagoon bridge to the French side at 9 am. And somehow manage to miss it narrowly; we see the guy driving off as we approach. At this stage we are desperate to leave the Dutch side, and the Lagoon, to get back in the ocean where we can jump in the water without risking serious gastro consequences. David mutters under his breath that we really need to get more organised.
Finally, at 11, the bridge lifts only for us, and we enter the French side. The bridge out of the lagoon opens next at 5:30 pm, so we can’t make it to Orient Bay now. It being Christmas Eve we decide to stay in the flat waters of the lagoon for the evening, so we can have a nice night without too much roll. The kids open a Christmas present each, and we feast on unsustainable salmon steaks from Scotland, Bob lit up with sparkly lights to match our mood.
The next morning we plan to open presents and have a nice Christmas breakfast, and then escape the lagoon at 9 am, head to Orient, ready for some fun. Only somehow we manage to miss the 9 am bridge, again arriving just as it closes. David mutters some more about organisation, planning, and us really needing to up our game. We had left half an hour to get to the bridge, but the water is so shallow and the channel (if indeed there is one) so thoroughly unmarked that the progress there was painstakingly slow. It is tense navigation – at one point the depth is recorded as being 0.0 m below keel – and when we make it to the bridge in the end it is too late to escape, but at least we still have both hulls intact.
So we head to the other end of the lagoon, anchor and have a festive Christmas lunch. Dinghying to the beach we have a swim and a play, watch some crazy people hooning around on jetskis and a strange man doing some jet stream walking on water. Determined to become organised, we make it back to the boat, ready with anchor up and a whole hour left to navigate our way back over the shallows to the bridge before it opens at 5:30. This time, of course, we’re early, and as a fierce rain starts we anchor just off the bridge, waiting patiently and then nearly missing it again as it takes longer to hoist the anchor than anticipated. We manage to get through, and anchor jubilantly on the other side, Bob back in the real sea after nearly ten days!
SV Bob The Cat 