Cuba, we wanted to go , see with our eyes the last socialist bastion which resist to his neighbour, the american giant, out of clichés and ideoligies. We entered at Santiago de Cuba, citadel where lies the ashes of Fidel Castro. At first it has been hard to bear all the burocratic rules, impeding us the use of the satellite phone, forbiden us to go out of the marina with Iris… but soon the kindness and pragmatism of the cubans let us forgot  all. Noël, the taxi driver will make me discover the town, taking me everywhere I will need with his sovietic taxi out of age, and also, and above all he will enlighten me on the cuban life. It’s not an easy life, the salaries are very low, 8 euros by month for a worker ! and many things are lacking, they have then to manage, have several jobs to get by. The education, the health care are free, but they have to pay the medics, even if they are cheap. The transportation are cheap too, even if some buses looks like trucks for cattle…An economy of penury, due for a great part to the blockade organised by the USA, which our european leaders follow quite subserviently…

Sailing along the South coast we will anchor at Marea del Portillo, a fishermen village, poor, really poor. Fortunately they don’t lack of food, it’s the country and the little black pigs run everywhere, but there is not much else. A little bit further, in Cabo Cruz, another fishermen village, we will find it richer, there is a school, the dwelers seem to be be happy. It will be the lead in Cuba, the differences can be realy important acording to the place, even from a district to another. From Cabo Cruz we will follow the reef, will anchor in the “Queen’s Garden” , with a  water of a rare clarity. It’s realy if we were in a garden, with the coral, the gorgones who swing in the surge, the remoras, huge, the baracudas sleeping in the shadow of the boat and where the fishermen come to exchange fish and lobsters for some beers.
Then Cienfuegos, a wonderful city, where tourism become more present, with a commercial street as we can see now everywhere. Here it will be Yasmani, the “bicitaxi” who will make us discover the town and will help us during all our stay. Brave Yasmani, who pedal all day long to pay the rent of his bici, but who will invite us to drink a beer, to us who earn hundreds times what his job give to him….There is Garijo, who welcome us in his garden, a paradise for sailors thursty of vegies, where all is bio ( as everywhere in Cuba as there is no money to buy fertilizers or pesticids ). He will have to sell a hen from time to time to get the food for the remaining ones…
Others anchorages of dream near Cayo Largo, then we will start to make East after Cabo San Antonio. Here, change of surroundings, we will anchor in Cayos de la Leña, in the middle of the mangrove, far from all, under the look of the herons and fishing eagles. We will have to leave this small paradise for Marina Hemingway, close to La Habana to escape the bad weather which is coming. Once again we wil make provision of lobsters on the way….
Marina Hemingway will surprise us. First it is very big, realy green, our pets will be able to leap on the lawn, and we will have many contacts with the other yachties, like Jean Louis, the round the world dialysed , and many others. Jorge, the taxi driver will let us discover La Habana with his Chevrolet of 1949, the Captain’s age ! He will first bring us to the 1st of May march, that we didn’t want to miss at any price : more than one million of cubans in the streets, childs, young ones, students, workers, militars, all this in a warm atmosphere, without police. We will fill our eyes and heart, and will even be interwiewed by the local press !
Then it will be the visit of the Finca Vigia, slendid property of Hemingway. Here too we will be surprised to see how strong is the memory of the friendship between Fidel Castro and Heminway. Friendship and mutual respect, for the men as for the Revolution. The yacht “Pilar” is here, perfectly maintained, and Jorge will take us at Cojimar, the small port where Hemingway sailed for fishing.
We will naturely visit La Habana, with the new district, very european, La Habana central, kept in the “Arts Deco” time, and Habana la vieja, as it was at the colonisation times. Many toutists for sure, but the town is so beautiful. “Fusterlandia”, near the marina, with its mosaics in the Gaudi maner, don’t escape to the rule.
We will leave Cuba with the memory of these hearty people, nobles, who fight a daily life sometimes absurd, but without rancor, whithout bitterness. A wonderfull country, privilegiated by nature but castigated sin mercy every year by the huricanes, a land of contrasts which don’t deserve the fate this stupid and dangerous fool of Trump impose to her.

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It will not take us a long time to come from the Maroni river to Le Marin in La Martinique : wind and current with us, a clean hull, in a few days we enter the bay of Le Marin were hundreds, if not thousands of sailing boats of all kind come together,in the marinas, in the ancorages ” huricane hole”, everywhere….Hopefully we went here only to do what we couldn’t do before : the paintings and varnish below deck. We take the oportunity to admire the yoles running in the trades, wonderfull sailing boats run by extraordinary sailors, was it in regata or with the family.
We went to the veterinary to sterelize Iris, we don’t want to have a litter of puppies as a crew !
We will leave La Martinique after the anchorage of Trois Ilets, contemplating the Diamant rock on the way. La Montagne Pelée, for her own, will stay hiden in the clouds.

The trade winds are vigourous and push us up to Portsmouth, in the Dominica island. Poor Dominica, devastated by the huricane Maria. It’s like the vegetation had been smashed with a chain saw…At night, while at anchor, two fishing boats brake their mooring chain and one of them enter in collision with us. The bow sprit will resist, but went 2 millimetrers back, not hurted, but scared. The two fugitives will be picked up back the following day, after one night playing the gost ships.

We enjoyed much Deshaies, a well sheltered bay in the North West of the La Guadeloupe. Here Iris will make real walks and every evening the dolphins enter the anchorage, the kids play with them, when it’s not the turtles who are wandering.
We could have stayed more, but there is still a long way to go….

Santa Cruz de Barahona will be our call in the Dominican Republic. What a difference with the West Indies ! Here it’s Africa, the streets bustle of people, the “conchos”, moto taxis weave their way, loaded as well by the corpulent mamy as by bunch of bananas or by the bloody veal just cutted in pieces ! It’s a commercial port, with big cargo ships loading sugar or anything else, wich don’t prevent the lamentins, mother and child, to wander around, with just the snout out of the water, when the weather is calm. We could also, and fortunately, replace our main alternator, which had broken down when leaving the Guadeloupe. Fernando, the port oarsman, will help us for a lot of things, the shoeshiner will have his material stolen, we will savor the grilled fish at night at the Club Nautico El Manati ( lamentin in spanish).

More to the west, it is at l’Ile à Vaches, in Haïti, that we will stop. We didn’t thought to do it, and however, what a call. It’s poor, for sure, Haïti is one of the poorest country in the world. But we are welcomed with a smile, in good french, we visit the village of Caye Coq with the young ones, they show us the Community Center, were, in spite of the needs they make paintings, art and crafts. The kids come regularly with their dugouts to see if we don’t have some useless staff to give, then we give. More there is their fishing boats, perfect sailing boats we met in open sea, engineless but with a huge sail. We are lucky to be here a day of regata, it’s simply wonderfull.
When leaving l’Ile à Vaches we will though for a long time of these people who have nothing, who welcomed us, who look us passing by, us the french who didn’t have helped them much, not to say more, since they became the first black Republic in the world.

100 years ! One century that “MARS/SKØIERN” went out of Jørgensen og Viik shipyard, in Grimstad, Norway. Christian Jensen can be proud, his first 12 meter is still alive. More, she is not languishing in a museum, no, she is sailing on the seas of the world. For sure we have something to do with this, we have sailed some 100 000 nautical miles since the day I discoverd her, stranding alonside the Moulin Blanc slip, in Brest. There have been hazars, stories, crews, Captains, to get to this point, get trough war, abandons, bad moments. But her star is here, she’s shining and protect her.
Now, we will go on sailing with our centenarian, we will get old together, in our common elements, the sea, the winds and open sea birds.
We are very happy

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Saint Laurent lies only at 14 miles of the mouth, and the influence of the ocean is strong : tides, currents, and also the acoupa, the fish our indian friend Marius fish, like the salt water. We will use the tide to beach our boat, using the legs, and make a repair on the hull. In fact, when lowering the boat in Salvador a link of the planking, below the water line, was damaged. Of course we tried to close the gaps when this appear at sea, but with no great results. So, in the time of one tide a new link was installed, with stainless steel bolts, the end of pumping. All this only with our own means, sailors job…
With the dugout we will sail up the river until Apatou, go trough the Hermina rapids, visit the villages of the bushi nenge, descendant of the escaped slaves, where we will participate in making the couac and the casave, basic foods made from the manioc, discover the roucou, this so stubborn colorant. Then the indian villages, of the ethnia kali’na, descendant of the fearfull caribes. In T+merin, near the petrogliphs, Iris was waiting for us, a small ball of hair, poorly fed, full of vermin. She found at once her own place on Skoiern, born near the water she was already a sailor. We wanted a small dog, she is bigger day after day…
The river it’s also the dugouts, built everywhere in angelique and grignan woods, wonderfull, they can rech 20 meters. Up Saint Laurent it’s quasi the only way of transportation, used as well for the feast as for the smugglers with Suriname. With these dugouts and our boatman Richard we will enter the cricks, quiet at day time with the sloths and acrobat monkeys, populated at night with caïmans and anacondas.
Saint Laurent it’s also the market, the feasts, the birthdays, marches, a life we couldn’t think of in this corner of Amazonia.
When leaving for the ocean we will wander in the criks, the tributaries of the river where you sail in the trees, but with meters of water under the keel ! Except for the eyes ofthe caïmans seen one night we will not enconter ferocious animals, only the birds, ariel toucan, herons and egret go with us. At the turn of Malakami Crick (Coswine river), Ayawande, kali’na village, where somme families, guardians of traditions, Frederica and his son roger, Alphonsine and her sister. A comunitary carbet is being built, it will be used essentialy for the villagers, as the few tourist can only reach the village by the river. No internet here, only the mail, we will then write letters.

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