Statia
Statia is a small Dutch
Island 10 miles from St Kitts, and does not offer the best shelter. The guide
said that you should expect to roll and with this in mind we expected to spend
just the one night. We arrived mid afternoon and went ashore to see if we could
get some US dollars from an ATM and also if customs were open to check in and
out all in one go. Ruffian were also there and doing the same thing.
Customs was shut and
we took a very hot walk up a steep hill. The ATM was experiencing a fault. We
walked around a fort, more cannons and were surprised to see a small flock of
brightly coloured parrots pass us. They were too quick to photograph but
spotted by Ethan. He looked for them the next day on our walk but he was
disappointed that we did not see them again.
With no money we
returned to our respective boats for a cooling swim.
We decided to meet on
Mad Fish for sundowners, which turned into dinner as we had caught a big tuna
on the way, so there was more than enough to share. We were close to eating at
7.30pm when the coastguard passed us in a big black rib with about 6 people on
board. They all wore dark clothing and carried big guns. We waved as they shone
a search light, thinking they were just doing a security sweep of the bay. They
then came along side and decided they wanted to board us.
Russell asked that the
officer boarding, removed his hobnailed boots first and this did not go down
well. We didn’t feel it was an unreasonable request as many people request
removal of shoes before entering their home. We were asked for ships paper and
passports and these were taken onto the rib and an officer dropped with us – we
lost the battle of boot removal. We asked the rib if they wished to give us a
line and they said they would just mill around. We were then asked to show them
our flares and they looked in every cabin. The officer on board seemed quite
sheepish and offered little understanding of what he was looking for. Fiona
asked if they wanted to go and board their boat too but they were not
interested. It seemed we were their duty for the night and that would be it. We
were asked why we had not checked in with customs and explained they were not
open and we were flying the Q flag and courtesy flag. Russell asked why when
they had passed us in daylight they had not chosen to board when the experience
would have been less threatening. The reply “we always board at night”. It was
all very strange and we agreed that had we not had witnesses onboard then it
would have felt worse.
If we were to have a
repeat performance we would ask for ID and get authority by calling to check
them out first. We would also insist that they check our passports on our
vessel and not take them off as they could have just sped off with everything.
I then suggested perhaps they were casing the joint to rob us later. After a
long discussion we decided that we were basically powerless as there were 6 big
guys with guns and if they wanted to do bad things to us then it was unlikely
we were going to stop them.
It added some
excitement to the evening but also made us realise how different sailing out
here can be. You do hear stories back home of border agency vessels boarding UK sailors and
them objecting to the way they are treated. The next day we asked customs and
they said they would have come from Dutch St Maarten about 30 miles away. It
seemed again like a complete waste of government money. The cost of employing
staff to police the customs and immigration must be far higher than the fees
they generate. We couldn’t pay the fees in Statia because even on Monday we
were unable to get any money from the bank. The ATM was broken and they could
not action any transactions over the counter. The island has an oil depot and
Tankers were anchored offshore and also on the oil jetty. This again seemed
completely out of place, however the people on the ships get paid on a Friday
and this means that the banks get emptied of cash. This might also explain the
coastguards looking for more on the big ships.
There is not much to
do on Statia. We enjoyed the snorkelling in the bay. An artificial reef had
been created to protect the beach from being washed away about 5 years ago and
this had grown into a wonderful eco systems. There were hundreds of fish and
corals just a few metres away from the boat. We found a conch shell and tried
to prize the contents out to eat and keep the beautiful shell as a souvenir but
we couldn’t work out how to do it.
The other thing to do
is walk. We took the hike to the Quill which is 600 Metres above sea level. (http://www.statiapark.org/parks/quill/index.html)
We set off early to beat the heat. So
alarms were set for 6am and
we met on the dock with Ian and Fiona at 6.30am.
We checked customs and made sure they were shut before doing our walk. We
walked along the dusty roads before they turned to tracks which then lead into
the shaded forest of the quill. It was a good hour to walk to the top and it
was a zig zag up the mountain. It was not too steep until we neared the top and
ropes had been provided to help haul ourselves up. The view from the top looked
into the crater. We were not quite at the top viewpoint so we could no see out
to sea. There was a path to the very top, which would have taken another 30
minutes, but Chris Doyle suggested it was not for those suffering vertigo and
it was quite a challenging path. We decided to take the less challenging 30 minutes’
walk to the bottom of the crater. This turned into an adventure of its own. The
path quickly became rocks and boulders with ropes to help with the descent and
also getting back up. The kids took it all in their stride whilst the adults
were a little more conservative, perhaps because we realised if we fell it was
along way down and would really hurt. It was hard work but very enjoyable. It
felt like you were in the movie set for Jurassic park. Huge twisted trees
towered above us. There were little red crabs hiding in shells. We also spotted
a snake. The dog that had followed us all the way from the ATM machine
desperately tried to get at the crab as it shot into a snail type shell. He
also liked chasing the cockerels that seemed to live there too.
We were unsure if
there was a path leading up the other side and also once we had got up if we
could walk around, so headed back the way we had come. As we climbed we could
hear a lot of school children and when we got to the top found a class of 30 to
40 children on a school trip. There were about 4 adults and the group were
being given the chance to either return back to school or go down into the
crater. This would obviously never happen in the UK, where health and safety would
have deemed the whole trip too dangerous.
It took us a good 3 to
4 hours to do the whole walk and both our feet and legs knew we had done it.
The next day my thigh muscles definitely knew they had been worked. We tried to
get cash out and Ethan had to say goodbye to the dog after taking a few photos.
We got back to the
boat and had a quick swim to cool off before heading off to St Barths. We had
an excellent sail and caught a Barracuda and a little tunny.
Photos
Another Tuna.
Oil terminal, feels like being back at home.
The fort.
3.3hp racing against Ruffian. Waterline length won.
View into the crater.
The wild chickens, the dog did try to catch one. The chicken was smart, the other side of the rock was a sheer drop.
The land crab, the dog tried to eat one.
This tree was made by strangling a living tree, which then dies and over time decomposes to leave the hollow tree. Quite amazing.
The way back up.
Never give a small boy a camera.
