80% of the islands’ visitors hail from France and all locals speak French or Creole. They say that Martinique could easily be mistaken for a provincial region of France and is home to a fascinating and dynamic Caribbean society, with a distinct culture and a long history of resistance to French authority.
We arrived at St-Pierre, midday, Saturday 30 May, but as it was the weekend and everything was closed, we decided to motor on to Fort-de-France, the capital of Martinique.
Fort-de-France is a busy city, the largest in the French West Indies. Most of the island’s other large towns are modern and suburban, linked to the capital by multilane highways and fast-moving traffic. Nevertheless, nearly a third of Martinique is forested. Other parts are given over to pineapples, bananas and sugarcane fields.
We were surprised on our arrival as to the size of the bay and the city and suburbs surrounding it. Fort-de-France looked to be a beautiful city and we agreed that we would look forward to exploring it. As everything, including customs, was closed for the weekend, we remained on the boat until Monday, only to find out that it was a public holiday. We found a grocery store which was open, purchased a few supplies and returned to Hasta La Vista.
View of Fort-de-France, Martinique, from Hasta La Vista.
A beautiful sunset, Fort-de-France, Martinique.As the next day was a normal working day, we cleared in and explored the narrow busy streets of the area immediately in front of the harbour. The streets were lined with a mixture of ordinary offices, bargain-basement shops and crumbling early-20th-century buildings with wrought iron balconies. We discovered the spice market, filled with colourful stalls piled high with herbs, spices and local flowers as well as a huge range of souvenirs. Further along, was a farmer’s market offering island grown fruits and vegetables, drinking coconuts and cut flowers.
On returning to Hasta La Vista around Midday, we found that the anchorage was not a good one as there was a large swell and ferries passed continuously. We pulled up anchor and motor sailed south for Marin on the south coast of Martinique.
On the way, we passed Rocher du Diamant (Diamond Rock), a giant offsure monolith, which is centred around a great story in history.
This 176m high rock is a volcanic islet just off the south-western tip of Martinique. It was once home to 120 British sailors who, for 17 months in 1804-05 used it to harass French vessels trying to navigate the passage. Having registered the rock as a fighting ship, the unsinkable HMS Diamond Rock, the British Royal Navy was finally outwitted when French Admiral Villaret de Joyeuse allegedly cut loose a skiff loaded with rum in the direction of Diamond Rock, and as the isolated British sailors swilled down the prize, the French forces retook the island. Even today, British sailors salute the island when passing.
Four hours after leaving Fort de France, we were anchored in Cul-de-Sac du Marin on the southern tip of Martinique. Cul-de-Sac du Marin is a large deeply indented bay, surrounded by hills and lined with mangroves with Marin, the township, situated along its shores. We were surprised at the number of yachts anchored. We would guess at a couple of hundred. There is a large marina from which seven charter yacht companies operate and a large haulout facility further around the bay.
Three days were spent exploring the streets and discovering the supermarket to check out the meat and vegetable supplies, as we always do on arriving to a new island. I desperately needed a cut and colour and spent one afternoon in a lovely little salon whose hairdresser spoke no English. We both fumbled our way through the language barrier and I was happy with the result.
Mal enjoyed relaxing in the cockpit of Hasta La Vista watching the many yachts either leaving or entering the Harbour and late afternoons were spent in the water side marina bar and restaurant meeting other cruisers, talking about our experiences and discussing future plans.
We agreed that Martinique would be an island where we would spend more time next year. On Saturday 6 June, we motor sailed to the northern end of St Lucia and anchored at Rodney Bay.
