Arriving in Portsmouth, a small town located on Prince Rupert Bay, three and a half hours after we left Isles des Saintes, we decided to anchor, clear into customs and immigration, and spent the next day in Dominica.
Before we had even entered the bay, a timber river boat with the owner’s name “Alexis”, clearly painted on the side, approached us offering us assistance with a mooring in the bay. We thanked him and declined. Once anchored, Alexis greeted us once again, giving us information on the location of Customs and Immigration, the local fruit market, the best restaurant and the tours that we could take while anchored off Portsmouth. “Indian River” was one of the tours offered. It is national park and no outboards are allowed. Alexis would pick us up in his timber dingy and row up the river, pointing out items of interest, and drop us back to Hasta La Vista an hour and a half later. We agreed to do the tour with him the next morning. Later that day, a local rowed out to us on his surf board, offering to buy fruit and vegetables or anything else that we needed, delivering them to the boat. Mal was happy to give one of the locals some business and ordered some mangoes, bananas and any other fruit going.
The town was not pretty, with dilapidated buildings for shops, restaurants and housing. The shore was scattered with large old rusty ships that had obviously been wrecked in a hurricane. Alexis confirmed this the next morning. In 1979, 75% of the islands buildings were destroyed by Hurricane David, however most of the damage in Prince Rupert Bay, was caused by three hurricanes in the early 1990’s. The beach disappeared and the sea now laps at the foundations of housing and restaurants that were originally located on the edge of a beautiful beach. As there was nothing to see in Portsmouth, we took the river cruise the next morning then motor sailed to Roseau, the capital of Dominica, where we anchored for the night, ready to sail the next day to the next island, Martinique.
The wreckage of one of the large ships washed up on the shore of Portsmouth, Dominica.
Our river cruise was interesting. Alexis had his cousin row while he pointed out things of interest and told us about his childhood growing up in the mountains. The river was overgrown with weeds and vines; small fish could be seen and small crabs scurried for cover as we moved along. 
Old figs lined the shore, their roots creeping through the mud to retain their holding. Concrete foundations for a train track that operated many years ago when the island grew sugar cane were located further up the river.
We reached a platform that led to a “forest bar”; no one was there, so Alexis led us to a friend’s plantation. Banana and fruit trees were scattered around in no order; there was a small vegetable patch but mostly the area was overgrown with weeds. Bare concrete buildings were the accommodation. It confirmed that the people on Dominicans are poor and tourism hasn’t got its grip like many of the other Caribbean islands.
Alexis and his cousin in Alexis’s timber river boat.
