On the way to Suriname
Saturday, August 4th, 2012
Monday, 23 July 2012
Sinbad woke me at dawn, as he usually does – gentle but persistant and impossible to ignore pats on my nose with a soft front paw. The occasional slightly impatient miaow. A fresh new day. My bowl needs a top up. I’m awake. I grumbled out of my comfy bunk and stuck my head out to have a look around. I was surprised to see that a few new boats had arrived. Hold on, I know those boats – they must have moved closer. It rapidly dawned on me that we had dragged during the night. Passing close by a big moored catamaran and a small Polish boat, fortuitously coming to a halt before hitting the dock with more catamarans attached. I had remained peacefully asleep. The tide had been running very strongly and the bottom is soft mud. Well we were lucky not to have hit anything. I had been planning to move on to Suriname with a quick stop over at the islands, so now looked like a good time to start. It was nearly high water and the ebb would help me along. But first I needed a cup of coffee. It hadn’t been the best possible start to the day.
It was an easy motor-sail back to the anchorage at Île Royale. The big tourist catamarans passed me along the way, laden with pale holiday-makers who would return late in the afternoon grilled to an alarmingly bright pink. There was a biggish swell running and the anchorage was not very comfortable. I decided to move on to Suriname first thing next morning.
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
The day started off slowly and I reluctantly motored for a while to get away from the islands. Soon there was just enough wind to fill the sail and we were moving peacefully along. The wind picked up a bit more in the afternoon but away from the islands the sea was flat and it was far more comfortable than lurching about at anchor. We made a fairly respectable 80nm in the first 24 hours.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Two days of slow but peaceful sailing. Intermittent rain showers helped to cool things down. Late yesterday afternoon my drowsy reverie in the cockpit was suddenly interrupted by the whisshhh of two big dolphins coming up for air close by. Soon more arrived, some shooting vertically up out of the water then diving down and slapping the surface of the water with their big fluked tails. They almost seemed like small whales. They must think us very boring and clumsy. They swam and dived about us in groups of three or four for quite a long time, then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone again.
Some enormous frigate birds circled the boat but found nothing to interest them and thermalled off looking for richer pickings.
Terns and swallows were also keeping us intermittent company. We were never more than about 20nm offshore. Just staying outside the 20 meter line. There are an uncomfortably large number of wrecks marked on the chart – it must have been a challenging coastline pre-GPS.
I had to think a bit about the timing of our arrival at the entrance to the Suriname River. With Speedwell’s once again crusty hull and a propeller with a nasty outbreak of small barnacles, we were definitely going to need the tide to help us get in. It was also very desirable to make the final approach in daylight. With the wind so fickle it was impossible to predict our arrival time at the entrance. Just have to play it by ear.
At midnight we were about 10nm off and the tide was supposed to start turning in our favour at 4am. But sunrise was only at 7. I hove to for a while and had a quick nap. I woke again at 3 and decided to start moving along. The sky had cleared, the moon had set and the stars were spectacular. A pity that we had to use the noisy engine and shatter the sublimity. But on, on.
The lights of a big ship at anchor appeared ahead. By now the wind had picked up again and we were able to make good progress without the engine. But, oh dear, the stars disappeared once more and flashes of lightning lit up the clouds. The wind headed us and the rain poured down. I cowered under the spraydodger having put on the cheap fisherman’s waterproof gear that I’d bought in Natal to replace the now useless Gill ‘Offshore Survival Jacket’. Nice to stay dry for a change. I set the Navik to keep us to windward so that the rain didn’t blow down the companionway. There was no particular hurry and I was able to keep an eye on the ship at anchor.
Fortunately these rain squalls don’t seem to last very long and soon enough we were on our way again with the wind on the beam and the sun just coming up. At moments like this I am struck by the wonder of it all. How could I ever go back to suburbia?
Ah! There was the big red and white buoy marking the start of the channel. I passed fairly close by and scanned ahead for the next marker – a green one. Not easy to spot. The Android chartplotter was a big help. The tide was definitely with us now but it was still about 12 nm to the nearest place to anchor and wait out the ebb. Domburg, my ultimate destination was still more than 30 nm away and not possible at the speed we were doing.
I soon came to realise that it wasn’t really necessary to stick rigidly to the marked channel as there seemed to be a fairly uniform depth of 3 – 4 meters up the centre of the bay, which is very wide. I was able to keep the sail filled to help the poor overloaded engine. At last the anchorage was in sight. By now we were struggling against the tide so I was happy to find a place to stop. The coast is lined with wooden stakes holding fishing nets so I kept well away from them and found a good spot in 4m. Soft muddy bottom so 40m of chain. Time for a siesta.
Later I sat out in the cockpit enjoying the new surroundings. There was quite a lot of small boat traffic. Mostly fishing pirogues with noisy outboards. Each of them detoured to pass close by and get a good look at us. Friendly waves and big smiles.
Sunday, 29 July 2012
When I woke up the next morning I saw that we had dragged again despite the excessive amount of chain I’d put out. Luckily still well clear of the fish traps. Time to be on our way. I stayed just outside of the channel leaving it open for the four big ships that were also coming in with the rising tide. No clouds today and I cursed the fact that I still have no effective shade in the cockpit that I can use while sailing.
Where the river splits I took the right hand branch and was soon abeam of Paramaribo. It looked like an interesting town but I couldn’t see a likely place to anchor. I’ll try to get some info and come back to it. A high fixed bridge crosses the river and past the town the riverside is dominated by industrial sites. Soon back to fairly unspoiled rainforest. Huge barges taking sand up river. One can’t afford to get too casual. At last Domburg came in sight round the next curve. A scattering of yachts at anchor. A Dutch boat, ‘Betty Boop’ that I’d first met in Itaparica was there and welcomed me over for a cold beer once I had sorted myself out. Looks like a good place.