Martinique to Grenada: The Final Push

Martinique to Grenada: 155 Miles, One Night, No Stops

We had one goal: Grenada, before August 1st. Everything else was just logistics.

Le Marin came first, the charter hub of the Eastern Caribbean, where chandleries and rigging shops line the docks and someone always has the part you need, or knows who does. We stocked up, crossed off the boat list, and got ready for the stretch ahead.

We anchored in Sainte-Anne. Quiet, quaint, easy. It reminded us of Les Saintes back in Guadeloupe — that same unhurried charm, the kind of place where nothing feels urgent. We didn't do much. No excursions, no hikes. We anchored, breathed, and let the pace drop before the jump south.

This time, we skipped everything in between. No stops, no lingering, not even Saint Lucia, which we never got to properly explore. There wasn't time. There was just south.

The Passage

No island hopping. No overnight anchorages to break it up. Just one last long push Martinique fading behind us, Saint Lucia's silhouette off to port, then Saint Vincent, then the scatter of little islands that make up the Grenadines sliding by in the dark. We didn't stop at a single one. Just watched them pass, one shadow at a time, and kept going.

Overnight passages have a rhythm. Watch changes. Stars if you're lucky, squalls if you're not. Sophia asleep down below while we traded hours at the helm. That strange mix of exhaustion and alertness that only shows up somewhere around 3am, when the boat feels like the only thing awake in the world.

Truth is, it was uneventful and we'll take that. Probably the best conditions we had all season for a passage this long: steady wind, flat-enough seas, nothing to dodge. Then, right before we turned into the bay, Tony hooked a mahi. Perfect timing.

By the time St. George's came into view, we were tired in the good way, the kind that means you earned the anchorage. There's a particular satisfaction in a passage like this. No shortcuts. No bailing out to the nearest anchorage when it got hard. Just hours logged and miles ticking down until land finally showed up on the horizon.

There's still so much we haven't seen of Martinique, or Saint Lucia. Both are on the list for next season. We'll go back, just not this time.

A Milestone Worth Marking

Grenada was the finish line, our safe hub for hurricane season. Getting here is a big one. This closes out a full season of moving: Bahamas to the DR, Puerto Rico, USVI, BVI, all the way down the chain to here. Boat and crew intact. That's not something we take lightly. It's the kind of thing that only really sinks in once the anchor's down and the engine's off — a whole season, thousands of miles, and here we are.

It's better with friends waiting. Reuniting with cruising faces we hadn't seen since the Bahamas made the arrival hit even harder.

That's the thing about reuniting with people you've missed. The whole mood shifts. Suddenly there's a rhythm again — catching up, kids running around together, plans forming without anyone trying. After a season of near-constant moving, it felt good to just stop. To be around people who get it without needing it explained.

We're thankful — for the passage, for the season, for the people waiting on the other side. Now it's hurricane season: meeting friends, meeting new people, watching the kids run wild, and finally exhaling after a long season on the move..