Cane crushing/squeezing machine	Three-wheeled vehicle used to feed cane to the crusher	Another view of the agile tricycle	The steam engine that powers the whole she-bang	Gears used to transfer power from the steam engine to the crusher
Another view of the oil-covered gears	Burning the crushed cane waste to create steam to power the crusher	When the blowers are turned on the fire rages!	Up at the rim of a fermentation vat	Barb, Steve, and Ann up on the catwalk near the top of the fermentation vats
Scrubbing a fermentation vat in preparation for the next batch	Control panel between the two massive distillation towers	Distilled product is captured here and continuously tested for alcohol content by using a hydrometer	Rum aging in oak barrels

Mount Pelee

On May 1 Barb and I set out to rent a car and drive to Mr. Pelee.  We had been there before with Steve and Linda (Seaman's Elixir), and knew we could park the car at the base and then hike up to the top.  We decided to stop by the local internet cafe to ask for advice about car renting, since we knew the proprietress could speak English.  Got there a few minutes after 9 am, the opening time, and found people standing around the closed door.  One of the men, in a heavy French accent, told us that the cafe would not open until 10 that day, because of the holiday.  Holiday?  Oh yes:  May Day, the worker's day.  Oh oh.  We asked the man if he thought the car rentals would be open, and we got the first of many typically French shrugs.  Then he spoke in French to another man standing with him, and turned back to us and offered to take us in his pickup up to the car rental.  The friend drove.  The car rental was closed, as was the other one in town.  He then said that he had an old car that wasn't pretty but that was sound, and that he would be willing to rent it to us for a day, for -- maybe 30 Euro?  We said sure, and off we were to his house to pick up the car.  It was indeed somewhat of a rattle trap, but seemed to work just fine.  Our new friend asked for some "assurance", and I gave him 40 Euros.  He repeated his request for "assurance", and I realized he wanted something that would insure that we would come back with his car.  I gave him a credit card, and that seemed to be exactly what he was looking for.  We chatted with the two of them for a bit, learning that our benefactor was originally from France, but had lived in Martinique for 26 years.  Barb asked him what he did for a living, and he indicated that he had a pest control business, pointing to the large tank on a trailer parked in his lot.  His friend was a white local, and the grandson of a former plantation owner.  Our benefactor indicated that there was no problem with our taking the vehicle.  First, he had another newer car, and second, he was not permitted to drive at the moment.  Hmmm.  Oh well.  They offered to drive down the road for a bit and show us the turn toward the mountain, and we were off.

We were to call him when we were ready to return the vehicle, since he did not expect to be at home.  We had his cell number, and when we got down from the mountain I called him from the parking lot at the base of the mountain, telling him we expected to be back at his house in about half an hour.  There was a lot of background noise when I talked to him, and it took him a long time to realize who I was.  I got the feeling he was at a bar or a party, and that he was feeling no pain.  So that was why he couldn't drive!  He had lost his drivers license due to a DUI.  We arrived at his home, and sat first on the beach, and later on his porch, for about an hour.  Barb finally called him again, and he expressed surprise that we were already there, and promised to be at the house in five minutes.  Fifteen minutes later a different pickup arrives with a different driver, who hangs around for a bit and then abruptly leaves.  Meanwhile, our benefactor is so drunk he can hardly walk, and he is having trouble remembering where he put our credit card.  Skinny fellow, unsteadily prancing around, raising his elbows as he walks, muttering and shrugging and vaguely apologizing.  He finds the card.  Barb asks if the friend -- who had already left -- wasn't going to give us a ride back to St. Pierre.  Our benefactor shrugs and professes to be upset that we have been left without a ride, and attempts to call other friends to get us a ride.  No answers.  Much shrugging and muttering.  We announce that we are perfectly happy to walk back to St. Pierre, and beat a hasty retreat, thanking him for his generosity in renting us his auto.

One of the fascinating and enjoyable aspects of cruising is the interesting folks we meet and spend time with.

Sea-side home of our drunken transportation benefactor -- the blue roof; seen as we depart and head north to Dominica	Junker in parking lot at end of road -- start of path up Mt. Pelee	Look at the dash and side panel on door	Up the first steep ascent	...across a saddle ...
... and then up the second steep ascent	Struggling up the last few meters of the first peak	View of crater and St. Pierre in background	Cross on a side peak -- lovely weather to this point ...	...and then the clouds starting moving in
... but we continued on	...where we found this seismic station ...	... and this building ...	... which looked like this when a cloud swept through	We stopped climbing and followed a level path for a bit ...
... along this rim	Note people on edge of rim	Looking back toward the cross	The path continues up this massive slope -- so large you cannot see the people that are on the path	Interesting flower along the path
Sign at the beginning of the ascent -- we saw lots of people on the "interdits" locations