La Digue - Part I
Here is what the British Navy thought of the island of La Digue in 1892:
And here is La Digue today:
Our first mate Mark had done some internet research that indicated that the “marina” at La Digue offered shore power, which meant that if we docked there we’d be able to plug in and have overnight air conditioning. After a sweaty night in Baie Sainte Anne, that sounded quite inviting, so Irina called ahead and told them that we would be arriving at approximately 4 p.m.
We motored slowly between the breakwaters into what was essentially a 3-sided concrete box. Catamarans, fishing boats, dive boats and a small barge offloading electric golf carts occupied two of the concrete walls; the third was reserved for the inter-island ferry. A gentleman standing on shore waved to us and motioned toward a rather small-looking empty spot near the corner of the box. We first tried to go bow-first into the spot, thinking we would toss the port bow line to someone on shore to cleat it off, then use that as a pivot by putting the engines in reverse to swing the stern into place.
But the man on shore had other ideas, and said we should do a three-point turn by putting the bow into a tiny space between a catamaran and a couple fishing boats, then back stern first into our allocated spot the way one would parallel park a car. We weren’t prepared for that maneuver, so we backed away from the spot, did a couple slow circles outside the marina while getting ready, then made another attempt, this time following the approach as described by the port employee.
Takamaka is a 50’ boat, and the spot they had us docking in was about 55’ in length. With two engines, catamarans are more maneuverable than a single-engine boat, and for someone used to moving them around all day, such tight quarters might have seemed manageable. But it was a lot to ask of our skipper, and it ended up being a high-stress operation with very little margin of error. In fact, two of us had to put fenders between us and other boats already docked to prevent damage when the vessels touched as Irina shoehorned the boat into its assigned location. At one point we were stern-to against the wall, and it looked like we’d have to abort the attempt, but a lone stern line we’d manage to attach to a dock cleat was enough to salvage the situation, and after several sweaty, tense minutes, Takamaka‘s port side was securely cleated off.
It was at this time that we received the joyous news that amenities at La Digue did not include shore power, just a hose to fill our water tanks, if we so required. Some snarky comments were exchanged amongst the crew, but the indomitable spirit of the Takamakans found a way to make the best of the situation. Irina led a small contingent ashore to see what there was to see and reported back with some photos and descriptions of menus from various nearby restaurants. We settled on a high-end resort called Le Domaine de L’Orangeraie. I donned my last clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt; everyone else that had packed more put on a more elegant outfit. We walked along the dusty street in the fading light to Le Domaine, where we enjoyed a cocktail followed by a meal with free-flowing conversation and laughter.
Docking photos courtesy of Alisa
Photo courtesy of Robbi's phone and Le Domaine de L'Orangeraie staff