Christmas day started quite early – the music was playing while it was still dark, but not particularly loudly (by Friday night standards). The first thing I was aware of was a JCB driving along the harbour wall. We learned later that a boat had sunk at the end of our pontoon but fortunately the owner also owned the JCB so was able to recover it fairly easily. I would have like to witness it though.  By the time we were up it was time to start Skypeing the various family members in the UK and Ethiopia and sharing in the excitement of our grandchildren. Then it was time to get ready for lunch. I honoured the occasion with a dress and we packed Don and Sue into the back of the convertible and headed off to the restaurant.  On arrival we were directed to the pool bar where complimentary rum punches were being handed out and Father Christmas and children in masquerade outfits were dancing to a drum beat.  At one point Santa handed out presents to children who weren’t in costume who I assumed were residents (or perhaps children of staff) at the hotel. Then it was time to head to the restaurant. The tables were resplendent with Christmassy decorations and while some of the accompaniments were non traditional (salad, rice, squash) no fault could be found with the ham (ready mustarded) or the turkey and stuffing, and the mixed vegetables. It was help yourself and there was also chicken and fish on offer so it was easy to eat as much as you wanted and the coconut cake was a good substitute for Christmas pudding. The style was very relaxed and the other people there seemed to be local, but disappointingly there weren’t many of them. Perhaps there evening menu was better supported, even though it was pricier.  However Don and Sue proved to be entertaining companions and it was a most convivial occasion.

When lunch was over we all piled back into the car and headed for the South of the island, which we hadn’t managed to get to the previous day. It transpired that Don and Sue also hadn’t been right to the South, where the best beaches are and also there are plans to construct a mega marina in a great salt lake. We saw some signs of the work that they are doing but were later told that in some people’s opinion it will never be finished. Only time will tell. The roads in the South are not great. The main road has a sign saying it is closed and you use it at your own risk because of rock falls. Near the beaches they became rough dirt tracks – not very suitable for a car so close to the ground – and they gave us some anxious moments. I was please to see groups of monkeys. I had heard that there were more monkeys than people on the island but had hardly seen any – obviously they all live in the South. We drove down one road, which ended at the beginnings of a luxury development. While we paused debating whether the car would get up quite a steep hill, a guy called down to us from his balcony (where he was supervising his kids swimming in a spectacular horizon pool balanced on the side of the hill) to say we should go on as the views were spectacular and you could drive all round, but watch out for the rocks that had come down on the road.  Thus encouraged we went on and sure enough the views were amazing, but the road was precipitous and rock strewn and our courage ran out before we got all round. After stopping we did walk further up for some of the way but it was so steep Ted didn’t fancy driving it so we turned round and went back, before it got dark. 

Once back at the boats it was over to Song for coconut rum (mmmm) and then all over to Moorglade for coffee. It was not a very early night by the time we turned in.

Christmas day had been a quiet sort of day. Boxing day was not.

The celebrations are known as J’ouvert (pronounced Juveh). This is a contraction of ‘jour ouvert‘ (daybreak) and they started at 4am (which is before dawn). The volume of the music was astonishing and the sides of the boat were vibrating in time to the bass. After waking up at the outset, amazingly I went back to sleep and didn’t wake until 7.  Then it was time to return the car. This proved harder than it should have done as all the roads in town were closed for the parade but we eventually made it circuitously back to Bullseye and we could join in the street partying. The parade vehicles seemed to consist of trailers loaded up with either live groups and huge amplifiers. They towed their own generators to provide the power for this set up. There were big gaps between the rigs and the crowds danced behind. Dancing for hours in the sun with the temperature over 30C is hot work so the local fire service were soaking the crowd from a hydrant to cool down. Devil’s horns and tridents were much in evidence and the de-rigueur dress for the girls seemed to consist of tights and distressed shirts and not much else (apart from the horns).  There was some painting of faces and bodies, but not extensive and absolutely no hint of the masquerade costumes from before Christmas. The parade continued to circuit the town until 12, after which things started to quieten down. Roadside vendors sold drinks and food and those too drunk to continue lay down in the road. I have never seen so many drunken people at 10 in the morning, but it all remained very good humoured. I expected that fighting would break out but apart from one obviously domestic tiff I saw no evidence and everyone seemed to be universally happy to be there and enjoying the party.

We went back to the boat before the absolute finish and were in time to wave goodbye to Don and Sue who were moving up the coast before sailing to St Martin. In the afternoon Ted cleaned the water maker membrane – a job that had been waiting for a ready supply of fresh water and electricity – and I made several visits to the customs office in an attempt to clear out for tomorrow, eventually managing to find an officer in residence. In between times I did some essential laundry. 

Our plan is to move on tomorrow to the next island, 22 Nm away, Statia. Some people we have shared this plan with have done a lot of teeth sucking and indicated that it can be very rolly. It’s hard to imagine anywhere rollier than Montserrat, but we’ll see.