A cruising family' French Caribbean holiday on the islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe.
We made a conscious choice to spend the holidays on the islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe. The French islands are famously easy for customs and immigration, asking only that you fill out a one-page form on a computer, usually in a cafe or T-shirt shop. As cruisers with dogs, the big appeal is that they have zero pet entry regulations which was a welcome relief after the mountains of paperwork and appointments required to get in and out of the other Caribbean countries. We were quickly lulled into the easy living, fresh produce, street-side rotisserie chicken, singing in the streets, cheap wine, and the joie de vivre of Christmas in the French Caribbean.
In Sainte-Anne, we found a local school with a holiday fair open to the public. Gaggles of boat kids marched through town to find the school, excited for some holiday magic. The event was lovely and low-key, with a recycled wine bottle Christmas tree, a plant sale, handmade ornaments, and of course fresh crêpes. With a mouthful of chocolate crêpe my daughter quipped, “Are you going to buy another plant to murder, mom?”
Yes. Yes, I am. Merry Christmas to me.
The town square had different events each weekend with food vendors, local artisans, and live music. The kid boats would meet in the square each evening to run around, socialize, and soak it all in. A few parents would walk to the little market and get drinks and snacks, and we would watch the sun dip into the sea. No commercialism, no gimmicks, just the joy of being together to witness the sky do her thing night after dazzling night.
Back on the boat, we bobbed at anchor, stuffed fresh French pastries into our faces, and hung festive lights in the cockpit. The clear moonlight guided our friend’s dinghies to our stern. Adults toasted with local ti punch while we poured traditional chocolat de Communion (a spiced hot chocolate) for the kids. I played a holiday playlist from my trusty portable speaker while our daughter and her friends made ornaments and a general holiday-colored mess in our salon.
Our anchor was getting comfortable in the soft sands of Martinique, but just a few days before Christmas Eve we pointed our bows towards Les Saintes, Guadeloupe. We arrived at dawn, treated ourselves to a mooring ball, and dinghied around to say “hi” to neighboring boats. After a five minute-check in above the ice cream shop on Terre-de-Haut, we were cleared for Christmas. That evening, we sat in the town square and watched little kids sing Christmas carols in French, complete with the wiggling, waving, and nose-picking that’s universal to any group of little kids singing in public. Inspired by the music, my daughter and I strolled arm-in-arm down the pedestrian-only main road in Terre-de-Haut singing our favorite Christmas song loud and proud: “Fairytale of New York” by The Pogues. The locals looked at us equal parts confused and bemused, and I was relieved that nobody could understand the lyrics.
Singing is a big part of French Caribbean Christmas celebrations. In Guadeloupe the tradition of Chanté Nwèl (singing Christmas) happens throughout the country. We were told there would be roving groups singers on Christmas Eve. We promised we would hit the streets and follow along, even if the French Creole songs would be totally unfamiliar to us.
Christmas Eve morning there was a knock on the hull. A buddy boat had woken up before dawn, waited in the long lines at the bakery, and brought us a coveted bûche de Noël. We have had some drool-worthy French pastries over the years, but nothing beats that melt-in-your-mouth chocolate yule log from Guadeloupe. I’d sail against the tradewinds all over again for another slice.
We set up and decorated our petite plastic Christmas tree that lives in the bow of the boat 362 days of the year. Gazing out at the green hills of Terre-de-Haut dotted with the uniform red roof houses, we noticed how the whole island looked like a Christmas tree. My husband sketched the scene while I snapped photos. Then, it was time to jump in the dinghy. Christmas Eve dinner was on a buddy boat, and it was a holiday potluck that required elastic pants. With our Santa bellies, we motored back to our boat too tired to head to town. I tucked my growing teenager into bed, watched “Love Actually,” and started stuffing the stockings with care.
Once everything was set, I just sat in the cockpit and stared at the scene. Maybe I’m getting old and sentimental, but I can’t help but marvel at the million chance decisions and circumstances in my long, privileged, meandering life that had to work out just right to bring me to this little speck of a Christmas tree island off of another little speck of an island in the middle of a vast blue sea, swinging on a chain in a tub of fiberglass with nearly everything I love most in the world snug inside. That right there, that’s the gift.
Then, I heard them. The wandering Chanté Nwèl singers were making their way through town. We had a spot close enough to shore that I could hear them as they moved north to south down the main drag and into the hillside neighborhoods. I didn’t know the songs. I didn’t know the language, but I knew this was a group of people in full celebratory mode.
Christmas morning our daughter woke up and scurried right out to her stocking hung on the aft rail of the cockpit. There was a giant cinnamon stick, some local chocolates, a madras hand fan, and a handmade shell necklace.
Terre-de-Haut is one of my favorite places in the Caribbean, but we decided to sail away a couple of days after Christmas and make the short jump north to mainland Guadeloupe. On the protected west coast we dropped the hook in Boulliante. This unassuming little harbor is a popular local spot because of the hot springs that feed into the ocean here. For nearly 400 years, young and old have gathered here to float under the stars in the warmed seawater.
On New Year’s Eve, we tiptoed down the rocks to join the group soak. The line between the ocean and the sky was invisible, as we floated our way into the New Year. The next day as we were about to lift anchor, a full rainbow spanned the shoreline. A final au revoir for our French Caribbean holiday.
By Cindy Wallach
About the Author: Cindy Wallach cruised the Caribbean with her family aboard their St. Francis 44 catamaran Majestic, which is for sale. Learn more at majesticstfrancis44forsale.com.
