French Guiana

Mooring field of about six boats in St Laurent. 

This "island" beside Milly was actually a wreck well disguised as lush jungle.

On the tenth day of our sail from Fernando de Noronja, the wind died and we figured we would just be able to make anchorage if we motored.  Argh!  Motoring is not for us and we are reluctant to use those diesel-consuming, noisy things at anytime but….an anchorage sounded pretty good.  Otherwise, we would’ve had to sail around at the mouth of the River Maroni until dawn the following day.  Motoring, it was!

Unfortunately, the Maroni River had the same silty cafe au lait look as the River Plate reportedly hiding such creatures as caimans - only quick dips for me.  Peter languished a few moments longer.  It was incredibly hot in harbour and we couldn't make water in this thick stuff so water use was very limited and dips were, if not cleansing, at least cooling.

We were headed to St Laurent de Maroni, a town built by the French as a transportation centre and prison for their convicts from 1858 and finally closed in 1946.  The prison, of Papillon fame, still stands.

The jungle is so thick it looks like the trees are moving into the river for lack of room on shore.

First dwelling sighted when motoring upriver.

The Maroni River borders French Guiana and Surinam.  St Laurent is about 12 NM up river.  The river is full of sandbars and the channel markers did not match our chart so our progress past the occasional local fishing boat was slow.  We reached the mooring field at dusk in huge wind and even bigger current. After a few attempts with Peter at the helm, trying hard to keep the boat steady while I desperately tried to grab the mooring ball, a couple rowed over in their tiny, tippy tender, against wind and current from their monohull moored close enough that I’m sure they wanted Milly safely secured and quickly.  Their progress was painfully slow but they kindly persevered, picked up our line, tied it to the ball, picked up our second line and lead it back to me at the bow, all in violent wind and current.  Sounds straightforward but it took awhile of sweat, shouting, near capsize, muscle and, I’m sure, some choice language - they were Israeli so their language although loud was entirely private.  We were very grateful for their help!

Next day saw us checking into the marina - the guy in charge drove us to customs and then to immigration.  Officials were friendly and the bureaucracy minimal.  We were done in about 30 minutes - compared to Brazil where we tramped back and forth and back and forth to offices some distance apart, this was a snap.

City Hall

We spent our time in St Laurent checking out the town - colonial French with a very different feel from our other experiences in South America.  The grocery store was full of expensive French imports - we celebrated the cheese.  The market held twice a week was amazing!  Festive, colourful and complete with new fruit and veggies - I bought too many after our Israeli cruiser friend gave me an orienting tour.  So great to hear the names and how to use all the produce after our lack lustre understanding of Portuguese in Brazil.

Dragon fruit.  Sweet, delicious innards and gorgeous colour.

Tannia - creamier taste and firmer consistency than potato

My purchases. After a ten day passage when we ran out of fresh produce, a market twice a week was a treat! 

We toured the prison, went for a jungle hike, checked out the festivities at an annual fair and Ms St Laurent beauty pageant and took the dinghy up a nearby creek, all with the cruisers on two other boats.  The pageant started at 10:00 p.m. and continued until 7:00 a.m. - we managed until about 11:00.  Tables at the show went for 120 euros - we elected to stand.  Having companionship during the day and joining each other on our boats in the evening was fantastic and gave us a taste of the cruising community we had sorely missed in Brazil.

A moving statue - you could sense the hopelessness.

Our enthusiastic tour guide points out the two tone wall.  The lower black "paint" was purposefully made to come of if leaned against on clothing or skin.  The prisoners were punished severely if any black was found on them.  Even in their cells they were not allowed to lean and their "beds" were folded into the wall all day.  No rest allowed!

In the long barracks room where the prisoners lay side by side on two 30 meter concrete ledges.  Their legs were shackled to a long steel pole that ran the length of the ledges.  This photo is of the less than hygienic, single toilet in the room.

The disciplinary section of the prison looks quite attractive but there were no trees, hence, no shade, in this exceedingly hot climate.

Peter samples the bed in the isolation cell.  Note the pillow is wood, the black wall and the foot shackle.  The weight of the iron shackle on his shin left an indentation that lasted  several hours - and he was only imprisoned for 5 minutes!

Papillon signed his cell floor.  I wonder what he got as punishment for doing that!

We hope to return to French Guiana and check out Surinam and Guiana during some later hurricane season.  They are well south of the hurricane box.  Nature on land is a highlight of each.  We saw parrots, toucans, turtles, a myriad of colourful butterflies - an incredibly beautiful blue one is renowned in French Guiana.  We sampled fantastic homemade local fruit ice cream right out of the cooks kitchen.

Local restaurant - boat and all - with seats on/in the water

Young boys gave us a jumping and swimming show while we dinghied by their Amer-Indian village.

Amer-Indian village.  The fishing boats were long and narrow and tucked right into the mangroves along the river banks, disappearing into the foliage.

Up the creek with Tanya, our cruising friend.

Phenomenal foliage!

In Salvador, Brazil, we noticed a few macho young men walking around with small birds in cages.  What was this, we wondered?  In French Guiana, many, always men, walked with their birds.  One morning we came across a gathering of guys, isolated but sitting around a parking lot with their birds.  The birds were tiny and looked nothing special - brown, no distinguishing features.  We stopped to look at two and were asked to move along by the owner.  Apparently, we were distracting the bird from it's mission.  We found out that these guys keep their birds with them at all times - even at work.  The bird above was enjoying a ride on a motorcycle.  They compete with their songbirds - the one with the longest and most varied song wins.

The festival at night.  This was a major 4 day event which began at 7:00 a.m. and ended at 7:00 a.m. each day. The partiers were dressed up - the hair styles were amazing.  Tanya and I got a tour with explanations by the hairdresser at a fair booth.  An art that takes hours.  (Peter did not take a picture of the beauty pageant - it wasn't his thing)

After about a week we headed on our last long voyage to Tobago in the Caribbean Sea.  Amazing to have come this far!

On our way!