The places we have visited so far are characterized by their British or French colonial past. Today, they are either French overseas territories or independent states of the British Commonwealth. Sint Maarten and Saba are the first countries with a Dutch colonial history that we visit.

Saint-Barthélemy

But to get there, there is no way around St. Barth. From Barbuda, we can reach the jet-set island in a day if we leave early enough. As dusk falls, we sail around the reefs off Barbuda and head out. But the wind forecast doesn’t live up to its promise. Instead of a good sailing breeze, we struggle with winds of less than ten knots in places. We dig out our yellow Code D from the sail load, but even that doesn’t keep us from running the engine most of the time. It wasn’t until an hour before our destination that the weather gods showed us how beautiful sailing can be.

St. Barth shows itself in the last light of the day. It looks beautiful with its soft, green slopes. We could well be in the Mediterranean or in Croatia. It almost feels homely. We decide not to look for a mooring in the large anchorage in front of the port of Gustavia due to the progressed time. Also because the boats there are said to roll unpleasantly. Instead, we swing into equally rolly Shell Beach and get ready for a restless night. The bay is nice though and the beach name fits. However, it is probably very uncomfortable lying on the shells. But lying on the shells must be very uncomfortable. At least that would explain the $80 rental fee for a beach lounger.

We don’t have time to lie around anyway, we have to go to the marina to check in and get an impression of Gustavia before we look for a nicer anchorage further north. After the formalities and breakfast we go for a walk around the town. Right at the beginning we take a look at the airport, where small propeller planes land bravely on a short runway.

The name Gustavia and the Swedish street signs indicate that St Barth was haggled back and forth between Sweden and France in the past. Otherwise, the island is French through and through, with a corresponding flair, supermarkets and stores. Casually you end up in front of the shop windows of Prada and Hermès. The displays are beautiful, but we go home with delicious cheese and a new French Press.

With enough treasures in the fridge, we drive a stone’s throw further to L’Anse de Colombier, which is located in a nature reserve. The only house there is a Rockefeller villa from the 1960s. Today, it is less of an architectural highlight than a lost place.

The park rangers give us a friendly welcome by boat and apologize for the electro party taking place on a bunch of sailboats. There are worse things, we think, and the group seems to be having fun. Meanwhile, we enjoy snorkeling in the bay. There are rays, all kinds of fish and turtles, which allow us to accompany them part of their way. Along the way, we surprise a neighboring boat with their lost boat hook, which we dive back to them. The freediving training pays off and earns us admiration. Pulling things up from 10 meters is really no longer a problem.

We share our farewell picnic on the beach with a curious turtle that keeps running over our beach towel. We were probably just in the way. People...

Saint Martin

Next stop: Saint Martin or Sint Maarten. The island is divided in two parts. The northern part belongs to France, the southern part to the Netherlands. A short, cloudy but otherwise perfect sailing day brings us to Marigot in France. The scenery is somewhat sobering. A wide, unspectacular landscape with numerous hurricane ruins. Although the water is very clear, the crowded bay is not inviting for a swim. Even if Marigot doesn’t take your breath away, it grows on you. It has the advantages of a French department, everyone speaks English and the lively community is characterized by Spanish-speaking people. We meet some people from the Dominican Republic who say that they can have a better life here than in their old country.

The last days of carnival bring variety and lots of music. We enjoy galettes and bokits one last time. But will there finally be a Dutch treat? We would definitely go for some Poffertjes on our Caribbean tour. A trip to the Dutch side will show. But the south of the island is rather American. No trace of Dutch food or influences. But we didn’t just come for the food. A tour of the major ship chandlers is on the agenda. The supply with everything around the boat is excellent. So you don’t even want to complain about the concrete tristesse. There’s also a regatta and it’s something to see. All participating boats enter the marina over a bascule bridge and are cheered on.

It’s just a shame that we were in the boat shops before the generator needed special care after its service. We have to go through the smaller stores on the French side a few more times before we can finally lift the anchor and set course for Saba.

Saba

The crossing to Saba promises something beautiful. The sailing is great and the island slowly comes closer and closer in the golden afternoon light. The round island has a volcano and two villages. Almost 2,000 people live there. The welcoming committee consists of a couple of whales that suddenly come up for air behind us.

The imposing cliffs seem not exactly welcoming to sailors, and anchoring is difficult or prohibited to protect the nature reserve. Saba seems to make every effort to use the natural resources on land and water in a sustainable way. There are plenty of mooring buoys for all types of boats in an impressive setting. But even in good conditions, the best spot we found is still a bit uncomfortable. At night we struggle with the buoy, which keeps hitting the hull with a loud bang due to a strange combination of current and wind. Otherwise the night is quite surreal. The bright moon illuminates the cliffs behind the Nikola, while the waves crash loudly against the rocks.

The next morning, we take the dinghy around the corner to clear in. Friendly officials welcome us with detailed brochures about everything we need to know. Happy, we take a taxi to the starting point of our hike up the volcano. The impressions are hard to put into words. The two villages are pretty to look at, their location stunning. The contrast between the deep blue of the sea and the thousand shades of green is breathtaking. Despite the heat and the effort, we climb the highest mountain in the Netherlands and are satisfied with the day’s achievement.

We would have liked to spend more time on Saba, as the underwater world would certainly have been worth exploring. Apart from the nature reserve directly on the island, there is a huge, protected underwater plateau called Saba Bank just a short distance away. From a depth of around 2,000 meters, a plateau rises to a depth of just 10 meters. The variety of life there must be spectacular.

Nevertheless, we have to say goodbye before sunset, as Puerto Rico and a family visit await us. Apart from the photo of the Dutch royal couple in the immigration office, there were no visible signs of links to the Netherlands on Saba. We had really hoped, but there were no Poffertjes for us here either.