BACK TO THE PAST! ANSE A LA BARQUE, GUADELOUPE
- Paul Weston
- Dec 30, 2025
- 4 min read
We left Grenada about a month ago, and have been slowly working our way north, through the Windward Islands. The trip has been largely uneventful, though our attempt to leave Grenada was frustrated when the engine didn’t start – eventually traced to a defective solenoid – and the autopilot stopped working on the passage between Carriacou and Bequia. With expert advice from Cruising Association members, I soon isolated the faulty control head, and normal service was resumed. Hand steering is not for me!
The passages between the islands have sometimes been boisterous, but our tactics of waiting for a slightly favourable wind slant, and starting out with two reefs in the mainsail, have been successful so far, and the boat, free of weed, has sailed very well. There have been frequent squalls, and our water collection system, which channels rain landing on part of the deck into a tank, has met most of our needs and supplements the main tanks, though we take the opportunity of filling a 20 litre water drum if we see a handy tap ashore.
Our first stop was Carriacou, which seems to be recovering well from Hurricane Beryl, and then via Bequia and St Lucia to the south of Martinique, where we spent several days anchored in Petite Anse d’Arlet. We went by bus along a narrow winding road to look at Diamond Rock from the land, and also saw the monument to the victims of a slave ship which was wrecked there in 1830. The identity of the slave ship is unknown – it must have been a blockade runner.
From the land or sea, Diamond Rock is steep and forbidding, and it is quite astonishing that Commodore Hood ever thought of fortifying it, and that Lieutenant Maurice could have realised the idea.
Petite Anse d’Arlet is close to the birthplace (or rather probable birthplace, St Lucia has a claim) of Empress Josephine, and we made several attempts to visit it, frustrated by the absence of taxis and rental cars, and by the Christmas bus schedule. On our way north along Martinique, we passed Fort de France, from under whose guns the Navy cut out the Curieux, as depicted in Mark Myer’s wonderful painting. Which features on the cover of Diamond Rock.
In the north of Martinique, we stopped at St Pierre, which in 1902 was a large and thriving town. The eruption of nearby Mount Pelee, which killed all of the inhabitants, was a disaster from which the city has never recovered, and today it is a rather sleepy place, though it does boast two supermarkets fully stocked with French food.
Lovely Dominica was our next stop, and we spent several days there, at Prince Rupert Bay and in Mero. We visited Fort Shirley on the Cabrits headland on the northern side of Prince Rupert Bay. The fort is featured in Diamond Rock, and I find immensely evocative, thanks to the incredible restoration efforts of Lennox Honeychurch. I met another Dominican author when I had my hair cut.
Clington Quamie is the author of, I think, ten books, and the owner of the barbershop. The conversation in the saloon was extremely interesting and in the matter of politics, especially American politics, very well informed. Clington autographed one of his books, Nature Boy for me, and also gave me a good haircut. Christmas shopping in the markets and small shops in the town of Portsmouth was an experience not to be missed, the people without exception friendly and helpful.
With some regret we said goodbye to Dominica, and headed for the Saintes, a group of small islands between Dominica and Martinique, the location of a famous naval battle between the British and French fleets, which resulted in a resounding victory for Admiral Rodney. The Saintes are beautiful, very French, an astonishing contrast with Dominica, and we spent a few nights on a mooring at Ilet a Cabrit, which has stunning blue water and interesting walks ashore to ruined French fortifications.
A wonderful sail northward followed, and now we’re anchored in Anse a la Barque, Guadeloupe. The Anse has a particular place in my heart, as a walk ashore here a year ago started the train of thought which culminated in the plot for Diamond Rock, much of which is set here. We went ashore yesterday, and saw the broken cannons and the ruined fortifications which speak of its violent past, only too real, as well as its imagined history – Columbine’s bombardment, Snowden’s wild charge – and in the chop generated by the sea breeze which had temporarily overcome the trade wind, we tied our dinghy to the steamer dock, in exactly the same place as Kennedy and Luciani went ashore from Oleander’s boats to take possession of the French flute.
From here we’re intending to go to Deshaies, or The Hays as Snowden would have known it, and from there up to windward to Antigua.
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