Seasons in the Sun # 4: Parties and Pitons in St. Lucia

One of the aggravating features of cruise travel is the very limited amount of time at each port of call, which in turn limits the number of activities in which you can indulge.

St. Lucia was the perfect case in point.  We were docked at Castries, the capital, for just 13 hours.  The problem of what-to-do was compounded by the overlapping schedules of land and water tours, many of which were offered at only one time of day.  In the end, I opted for a water tour, since there really is no easier way to get a good look at St. Lucia's most famous scenic highlight, the Pitons.

The presence of these two ancient volcanic plugs or spires, the hard core remaining as the rest of a volcanic mountain slowly erodes away through the ages, confirms that here again is an island whose very existence is owing to volcanoes.  And indeed, there are signs that the heat forces involved are by no means dead, as there are bubbling hot springs and sulphurous fumaroles around the Pitons.

The names, Gros Piton and Petit Piton, are a perfect example of the cultural mishmash and melting pot which is St. Lucia.  Overlying the ancient Amerindian and more recent Carib indigenous cultures are generous quantities of both French and British cultural, social, and linguistic contributions -- the perfect evidence of St. Lucia's checkered history, as it flipflopped between French and British control a dozen or more times before finally, definitively, landing in Britain's hands after the end of the Napoleonic wars in 1815.

In a longer stay, I could have had myself a great old time exploring this unique stew of multiple cultural roots and heritages, but it was the island's fascinating geological past which ended up taking control of my day.

In Castries, we had only to walk past the length of our ship at the dock, and a little further on, to reach the catamaran which was taking us on our scenic venture.  Almost as soon as we turned the corner out of the harbour of Castries, we began unscrolling the wild and rugged scenery of the island's west coast as we sailed south.

The weather might look less than ideal, but this is the Caribbean and big clumps of cloud like this frequently sail across the sun.  When the air temperature is sitting squarely in the upper 20s in Celsius (80+ in Fahrenheit), a few little old clouds hardly dampen the mood.  Yes, one of them could turn out to be an aggressive rain shower, but as the locals say, "If you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes."  There's almost no such thing as a day without sun, or a day without rain for that matter.

This was definitely a mainly sunny day, which made the 40-minute beach stop at L'Anse au Cochon doubly welcome.  The name, by the by, means "Bay of Wild Pigs."  That name didn't describe anyone in our group.  

Normally, I don't have to be asked twice to jump in the water.  But this was a little different.  Last year, I chewed up the fronts of my calves pretty badly trying to get back onto the stair gangway to return on board a catamaran in Grand Cayman, and had to pass on any more swimming for several days until the scrapes and cuts healed.  This vessel was bouncing in the surf too, and I didn't choose to repeat that script.  Once was enough.

After leaving L'Anse au Cochon, we sailed farther south until we uncovered the spectacular view of the Pitons near St. Lucia's southwestern corner, seen here across Soufrière Bay.  The sharper peak on the left, Petit Piton, is actually 50 metres lower than Grand Piton on the right, but appears higher here because it's several kilometres closer to the camera.

Thanks to the crew member of the catamaran who kindly went around taking pictures on our cameras for us.  Sort of looks like the guy behind me should have switched shirts with me!

Now, this is the Caribbean and it is a catamaran cruise, so if you were expecting me to utter the magic words, "Rum Punch," expect no longer!  This voyage had an unlimited supply of fruit juice, water, soft drinks, and a massive cooler full of rum punch.  Pretty good stuff too -- especially when I went for my third round and the bartender gave the cooler a good shake, mixing back in all the rum that had been floating up to the top inside!

On the return voyage, the crew also cranked up the music and there was a fair bit of dancing going on in the large covered "indoor" area spanning both hulls.  I got in on that too, and had a great time!

On the return voyage, we detoured into the twisting, sheltered inlet of Marigot Bay, site of several resorts and smaller hotels, and a favourite anchorage of yachts for the obvious reasons.  It's also the most purely beautiful harbour I've seen so far on this trip.

The last photo op of the trip came as we sailed back into Castries, and Crown Princess obligingly posed for us by her pier at Pointe Seraphine.

Later on, back on board, I got a good look at the harbour and capital city of Castries, plainly riding high on the wave of international banking which so strongly supports several of the islands in the Caribbean.  My instant reaction was that St. John's in Antigua and Cruz Bay in St. John appeared to be much more fully "island" in tone but Castries definitely looked "mainland" by comparison. 

And as I was enjoying a leisurely afternoon between swims in the adults-only Terrace Pool at the stern, I had another intriguing photo op with an obliging Red Ensign flying from the stern flagstaff.