Aratu
Author: Shirlz
Saturday, 28 January 2012
I left the anchorage at Salvador early the next morning. A nice day with a gentle breeze making it possible for me to sail slowly all the way to the narrow section of the channel going into the bay of Aratu. There were a few fishermen about and one or two sleek yachts motoring determinedly to their weekend destinations.
The Aratu channel is clearly marked with red and green buoys for the big ships using it. It must have been a magical place before heavy industry moved in and brutalised it. Now the once delightful jungly coves along the narrow channel have been invaded by monstrous factories and extended car parks. In the narrowest part a big ship was being manoeuvred into a tight berth with the help of two tugs. I got the engine going and kept out of their way.
The bay of Aratu itself is relatively unspoiled and if you cast your gaze selectively it’s possible to imagine it as it was in the old days when it is said to have been a favourite hideaway for pirates and buccaneers. Now it is a popular place for Salvadoreans to keep their yachts.
Hundreds of boats swing to their moorings at the Aratu yacht club. There is still plenty of room to anchor although it’s a long row to the floating dinghy dock at the club.
I had chosen to anchor off the more commercial-looking Aratu Marina with a few big ships in various states of dilapidation. It looked the sort of place that would just let you get on with doing your own thing. There are some handy workshops ashore and it’s possible to get fuel and water. I noticed the big old ferry boat that used to do the run up to Maragojipe, now retired and settled in the mud at low tide. There is a nice little restaurant at the beach where I can land the dinghy for the odd cold beer or something to eat. Very convenient. A good place. I might hang out here until the weather looks better for another try at moving north.
Meanwhile, It also seemed like a good opportunity to do some shopping in the city and possibly get new hearing aids. I moved across to the yacht club for the day and went ashore there as it’s the closest point to the bus terminus at Ilha São João. The bus took about an hour to reach the shopping district. Strings of monstrous malls. Many, many fashionable clothing boutiques and shoe shops. All the right sporting gear. Giant flat TV screens. I was harshly reminded of the motivating forces ruling most peoples lives. The din in the food-court at lunch time was overwhelming even to a deaf old bat.
I was able to find most of the things I was looking for and then serendipitously found myself in front of a place advertising hearing aids. They thought they might be able to repair the old ones but I would need to return in two days to find out. OK.
The bus was crowded and hot on the way back and it was nearly sundowner time when I eventually got back to the peaceful sanity of Speedwell. Sinbad was pleased to see me and especially appreciative of his thinly sliced ‘milanesa’ steak.
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
I returned hopefully to the hearing aid people only to be told that my old ‘aparelhos’ were beyond repair. But.. they would be delighted to supply me with new ones. It’s really good to be able to hear what goes on around me so I decided to increase the mortgage and go ahead with their plan. I was pleasantly impressed with the sophisticated equipment and soon they had me sorted out. I would need to return in a few days to pick up the new gadgets.
So back to the busses for the return trip to Aratu. I had also done a load of shopping so was struggling a bit with my very heavy backpack. The afternoon sun beat down sending the temperature soaring. My water bottle was nearly empty. The bus stop was crowded with commuters. Plenty of busses going to many different destinations. The trick was to spot the right one, wave at it to stop and clamber on before it roared off again. All those mysterious places..Iguatemi, Paripe, Ilha São João, Simões Filhoes… that one looked promising. I hopped on. I was lucky enough to get a seat. But then, oh dear, it turned off the main drag and headed for the Atlantic coast. Wrong bus. Still it was a pretty route. I sat back and let it unroll, planning to get off at the end of the line and work my way back. I was a tourist after all.
When we reached the outskirts of Simões Filhoes I asked the person next to me where I could get a bus to Aratu. Blessing the fact that by now I can actually make myself understood in Portuguese. The young chap was marvellously helpful and when we got to the right stop he hustled me off and flagged down the bus to Aratu which had just started moving off. Happy day. Soon I was walking the last kilometre or so down to the marina. Really happy day! A truck stopped and offered me a lift. When I was dropped off at the marina I made a stop at the restaurant/bar for a well-deserved icy cold beer.
Saturday, 4 February 2012
On Thursday I moved back to Itaparica. It was an interesting little sail. I started off optimistically with a gentle downwind breeze. Unfortunately, although there was no traffic in the channel, there was also no wind. That plus a slight contrary current forced me to do some motoring. As soon as we were in more open water again we were able to sail the rest of the way. It was a squally day with big black rainclouds looming. I hoped we might be able to stay ahead of them but they advanced with grim determination. The wind started to pick up. Should I bother to reef? It was only a passing squall. Let’s see how it goes. The passing squall was slow in passing. I soon had to start helping the Navik to keep us on course. It can’t last much longer… My arms were getting tired although it was quite exhillarating skimming along at 6.5 knots. Oh well, it’s a junk rig after all, drop a few panels. What a difference that made. The Navik was happy again. 10 minutes later the wind disappeared. Sail up again. We still had about 10 miles to go. It was peaceful for a while. Not many other boats about. Then the next rain squall was upon us. This one came up fast and furious. Torrential rain had me scrambling into full foul weather gear. The umbrella simply wasn’t up to it. It became quite impossible to see where we were going. I came up into the wind and hove to to let it pass. It didn’t last long and soon we were approaching the anchorage at Itaparica. Not so many boats there now. It was easy to find a good place to stop.
Tags: cruising