Weeks 3 and 4 - Saint Martin to Saint Kitts

Saint Martin to Saint Barthelemy

Since our last update, we spent a week anchored in the harbour close to Fort St. Louis, Saint Martin. It was a quiet stretch—no sailing, no swimming—just time spent on boat projects and making daily trips to visit the port of Marigot.

A quiet street on Sunday in Marigot

From the top of Fort St. Louis. Marigot

Marigot, Saint Martin

After seven days, we felt it was time to move on. The list of tasks never seems to end, but the most important jobs were finished, and we were ready for a change of scenery.

On Sunday, we made a short passage to Saint Barthélemy. The sail started smoothly—we were cruising at 7 knots in 15-knot winds—until a squall rolled in. Within minutes, gusts reached 35 to 40 knots, and the sea turned choppy and erratic. We dropped the sails just in time. Almost immediately, the winds calmed to 20 knots, and we resumed sailing.

We reached Gustavia and anchored well outside the port, waiting until Sunday to check in with customs. Gustavia is the main port and town on the island. It’s an upscale, luxurious French resort—elegant, affluent, and lovely. Yet, it feels almost disconnected from the authentic Caribbean character.

Gustavia, Saint Barthélemy

Once we completed the check-in, we sailed back to the eastern side of the island and anchored in Colombier Bay—a stunning, crescent-shaped sandy beach.

Colombier Bay Anchor, Saint Barthélemy

Colombier Bay, Saint Barthélemy

Brown Boobies and Remoras

We first spotted Brown Boobies on the passage from Prickly Island to Saint Martin. It’s surreal to be sailing with no land in sight and suddenly see a brown blur dive-bomb off the bow in pursuit of its prey. Michelle recognized it right away: “Brown Booby.”

“Sorry, brown what?” Yes—Brown Booby. It's a bird, much to the kids’ amusement.

We saw even more of them on the next leg from Saint Martin to Saint Barthélemy. They’re so quick that it's hard to get a good look, but after some reading, we realized we were seeing females—hence the brown colouring.

STILL TRYING TO GET A PHOTO

Another curious creature we've encountered is the remora, a fish that—like barracudas—likes to hang out under boats. With its bizarre appearance, a flat suction cup in the shape of a shoe sole is between its dorsal fin and head. It has large triangular pectoral fins, and a body resembling a small shark—it certainly stands out. According to our Usborne fish guide, remoras use their dorsal suction disc to attach to larger fish or even turtles, sharing their meals.

Stock footage of a Remora

I didn’t get a good look until I tossed some noodles overboard. Within seconds, four remoras darted out, competing for food. Moments later, a turtle swam by with three remoras trailing closely behind it.

Saint Barthelemy to Saint Kitts; Smooth Sailing then Misfortune

The passage to Saint Kitts went well. Winds were favourable, and we averaged 6.5 knots—solid performance for Yola 1.

Passage to Saint Kitts

Unfortunately, things took a turn. Shortly after arriving in Basseterre, our engine made a terrible grinding sound. We shut it off, cleared customs, and hoped it was nothing serious. Back on board, we discovered the propeller shaft had severed near the coupling, essentially rendering the engine useless. It was a rare failure, and it meant we were without propulsion again.

We contacted the island’s only haul-out service. The owner was kind and reassuring as Michelle explained the situation. Having already sailed to anchor, it felt only natural to now sail from anchor. Despite some nerves about maneuvering near shore, we managed it smoothly. A local fishing vessel met us outside the harbour, towed us in, and we were hauled out.

Now we’re in a boatyard, trying to complete the repairs ourselves with the help of some new friends we’ve met here.

Boat out of the water, Saint Kitts

It’s a strange place to be. Living on a boat while it’s on land feels off. After our last rolly anchorage—with waves hitting us sideways every two seconds—it almost feels like land is still moving. Ideally, we’d use a stern anchor to steady the boat, but of course, we don’t have one. That experience taught us just how valuable stern anchors can be.

The boatyard itself feels like a scrapyard. Most vessels seem abandoned. Only a few people live here, each with a story—many of them seemingly stuck here for one reason or another.

I try to take a lesson from every misadventure. In this case, I’m not sure what caused the prop shaft to break. Sometimes, things just happen. The real learning lies in the process of solving the problem.

In Saint Kitts, getting parts isn’t as simple as calling a mechanic and asking for the issue to be fixed. Orders take weeks to ship. Parts may need machining or alignment before they’re ready. Michelle has taken the lead on sourcing replacements, while I’m getting more hands-on with problem-solving and supporting her—especially on two-person jobs—while also keeping the kids on track. We rented a car for a few days and enjoyed some local beaches and a trip to the nearby Brimestone Hill Fortress, a beautifully restored fortress from the 17th and 18th centuries. Occupied by England and France over the years.

Aliya at a lookout - Brimstone Hill Fortress

View from the fortress, looking towards our boatyard

Courtyard at Brimstone Hill Fortress

The crew - Brimestone Hill Fortress

So far, we’ve removed the broken shaft, removed the cutless bearing and ordered a new one along with the necessary components. Now, we wait. We are looking forward to getting back in the water. Let’s hope it doesn’t take too long.