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Boris,
Steve and I had tickets to Martinique by Air
France. There, we were supposed to arrive one day ahead of Monica, whom we
were supposed to pick up at the airport. Everybody warned us about flying Air
France, especially the dismal food. As it turned out, the food was the best I
ever had on board an airplane, but everything
else went wrong.
The first flight from Zurich
to Paris was cancelled for technical reasons. The friendly but sly lady at the
Air France counter adventurously routed us to Paris through Basel. Of course, we
arrived in Paris too late for the last flight to Martinique and so we ended up
spending the first night of our vacation not on a yacht, but in an airport
hotel in France.
Once
on Martinique,
we met Monica at the airport. Actually, we saw her for the first time. The
Cubana office at the airport was permanently closed, so we couldn't buy the
onward tickets to Cuba yet. We took a taxi to Le Marin and there she was - the
Oria.
We
learned about sailing, ropes and lines, anchoring and what not from our Skipper
Joe. Soon we were underway to St. Lucia, the splendid Caribbean island in the
Windwards. While Steve spent most of the time burning the Skin off his body, we
took turns
steering the boat.
In
Soufrière, we moored at Benny's and did a couple of
dives. Steve had his first introductory course while Monica and I actually spotted a moon fish.
The dive spot was right at the foot of the Petit Piton, where the side of this
800m mountain falls vertically into the sea.
Monica
then left us to fly back home while the three of us continued back to
Martinique. On the way, Boris actually caught a Barracuda which we then had for
dinner. It was simply delicious. We anchored once more at Les Anses d'Arlet
and were treated to a before turning into port at Fort de France.
From
there Boris flew back and Steve and I continued our trip to
Cuba. You can now dive into the
image galleries for the Oria or continue with the
Cuba travelogue.