Sailing St. Lucia

My wife and I manage to have a great deal of fun on our adventures, not the least of which has occurred on a variety of sailboats. We’re sailors, having met and become friends while volunteering as crew on a historic schooner. We married much later in life and our first vacation together as a couple (in our 50’s) was on a 32 foot sailboat in the British Virgin Islands (BVIs). Of course that was in March of 2020 and we had turned our phones off for the trip. We found out about the world-wide pandemic at a bar in Leverick Bay on Virgin Gorda from two Canadian sailors … but that’s another story. Suffice it to say that it wasn’t our last trip to the Caribbean.

In 2022 we decided to give it another try, only this time sailing in St. Lucia and St. Vincent. These are part of a chain of islands called the Windward Islands, that form the eastern-most border of the Caribbean Sea. Our plan was to do a bareboat charter in Rodney Bay in St. Lucia, then sail south to St. Vincent and the Grenadines. They are separate countries and at the time COVID protocols required testing both to clear in and clear out of each country. If we tested positive at any point, we would be quarantined on the boat (at our cost) in whichever country we were in. We had been hoping that the protocols would be lifted before we went, but sadly that was not the case. As a result, we decided not to risk sailing to St. Vincent and spending our vacation quarantined.

Map of the Windward Islands of the Lesser Antilles

Instead, we planned to spend the time exploring the west coast of St. Lucia. Additionally, even though we both started as monohull sailors, our collective retirement plan involves sailing away in a catamaran (clearly we’ve watched Gone with the Wynns too much). We chartered a Leopard 40 for this trip to try it out and are now fans of the type and the design. A forty foot boat obviously, the interior salon, exterior seating area aft and trampoline forward are great. The four cabins were spacious and comfortable. One feature we were initially unsure of, but found wonderful, was the passthrough from the interior salon to the foredeck. That door was so convenient! Additionally, we came to love the beanbag chairs on the trampoline. They seem odd, but lounging at night in those things is pretty cool.

Our friend Jen joined us on this trip as crew and we sailed south anchoring in Marigot Bay, Anse Cochon, and the Piton’s anchorage south of Soufriere Bay. The COVID-restricted itinerary represented no great distance in sailing, but we still managed to go out for four hours or so every day. Since I was unfamiliar with catamarans in general, a lot of this sailing was testing out the points of sail. Specifically, I wanted to see how close to the wind she could sail. The constant trade winds assisted in this, blowing from just north of east at 20-25 knots most days. A word about true versus apparent wind: true wind is the direction the wind is coming from; apparent wind is how it feels to me on a moving boat. Essentially, if the true wind is on the beam, directly on the side of a moving boat, the apparent wind will feel like its coming from forward of the beam. The stronger the wind and the faster the moving boat, and the more the apparent wind seems to move forward. This means in practice that when you’re close-hauled, beating to windward, the true wind is actually no more than just forward of the beam.

Through trial and error on the Leopard 40 we found that her best point of sail in terms of speed and comfort was with the wind on the aft quarter. She pounds in any kind of head sea, rolls a bit too much with the wind on the beam, and is a pain to steer on a run with the wind all the way aft. But with the steady trade winds on the quarter, it was lovely. But how close to the wind could we go? Close-hauled on the Leopard 40 showed that we could get within 55 degrees of apparent wind, but when we checked our track on Navionics against the true wind, the average was actually 70 degrees of true wind. For a racer that would be abysmal, for a cruiser … meh … I’ll take it. At least for planning purposes, when we would plot out our course on a chart, now I know.

Sailing south in 20 knots of wind, with the Pitons in the distance

The island of St. Lucia is beautiful, the twin volcanic peaks of the Pitons were so lovely that we stayed an extra day. The experience coming into the mooring field from seaward is worth a mention, because the raised helm station of the Leopard 40 was helpful. Set between the two peaks, the mooring field is just incredible and is managed by the local park service. As we approached the mooring balls the crew couldn’t see the mooring balls from the deck, even at a quarter of a mile, but from the raised helm station I could. That visibility to me is important and is why I prefer the raised helm station over the more modern catamarans that have moved them aft.

We used “boat-boys” at all of the mooring fields, young men who for a fee help with the lines and then usually offer a variety of services. I’ve seen some boat crews wave them off and I would suggest that is a mistake. Soufriere Bay is a shady place, beautiful, but there’s the unmistakable feeling of barely contained violence there. Its reputation is why we didn’t anchor in Sourfriere Bay proper and why we had no issue hiring a boat-boy. A well paid local is more likely to make sure your boat isn’t the one broken into. The young man also set up a tour of the island for us, which included the still bubbling cauldron of the Soufriere volcano; local gardens;  and the waterfall from the movie Romancing the Stone.

The Pitons southern anchorage

The most beautiful place we moored in during our stay was Marigot Bay, which has an entrance hidden among tall cliffs. Once you’re through though, it opens up into a tropical paradise with clear blue water surrounded by a palm-fringed shoreline. We went ashore to find a taxi, but instead found a customs official with a great afro who took us to the local rum distillery for a tour. The tour was good, but the tasting afterward was excellent and non-ending. I had expected to drink rum, but not to that quality or extent. It was a great end to the sailing in St. Lucia.

At the end of the trip, as Jen made her way home, my wife and I decided to stay for a few extra days in St. Lucia. After a minor issue in Soufriere, we stayed at the Stonefield Villa Resorts; a locally owned series of private bungalows near one of the Pitons. It was incredible, we were met in an open air lobby building and offered a tamarind cocktail, then were taken to our bungalow … I can assure you that two ragged sailors dressed in shorts, t-shirts and Tevas were not expecting the quality of this place. The restaurant on site was superb, the views stunning and it was the perfect cap to our time in St. Lucia.

My wife enjoying the bungalow at Stonefield Villa Resorts