Dominica, Portsmouth and Roseau

We anchored in Portsmouth in the North and Mėro halfway down and moored south of Roseau.

My wife thinks it is great. Nothing much happens in Portsmouth; we visited a small waterfall and swam in its pool, had an unnotable and slow lunch before trekking across orange clay and visiting a whimsical chocolate factory. The anchor held. There were a few pubs with dull conversations and advice on nothing much in particular. The highlight is Alexis, the boatman, ch16, for services. The bread was not a highlight either, nor was the jazz festival.

Less happened in Mėro and St. Joseph. There was only one functioning pub with nobody in it where my wife and Will enjoyed their dialogue with the old paint. Good holding in sand and plenty of people in the streets to talk to. Nowhere to eat.

Roseau was more interesting. We ended up with our anchor firmly tied to a steel wreck in Pringle bay before the coastguard kindly fleeced us to successfully lift it. Apparently this work is rarer but more interesting than taking ropes off propellers but less interesting than the even scarcer catching traffickers of various types. We were free by 1600hrs but took two hours to wrestle sufficient cash out of rare reluctant ATMs to pay.

An hour later we were moored by Sea Cat, ch16, at the Anchorage Hotel's moorings,  to be molested by the neighbouring power boat that  we powered off at 2100hrs, with millimeters to spare, requiring subsequent watches all night and moving to another mooring the next day.

Shopping in Roseau is limited, perpetually marred by lack of cash from under powered ATMs. Nature is difficult to monetise to buy your car. Everyone has the same leaves with no market. The most impressive feature for me was the Trafalgar Falls. They are very difficult to photograph, together. There is also at least one hot stream. You'll have to find it. 

It is also reported that geothermal power is going to replace the remaining diesel power and supply surplus to Guadaloupe and Martinique. A good plan to be tested soon. The day was however destroyed by a music cacophany at full volume, full speed and without texture at all that went on until daybreak. Time to move on to Martinique.