Speedwell of Hong Kong

Musings and tales from the high seas

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Bartica

Saturday, October 20th, 2012

Bokkom snugly tied to the Kool Breeze pontoon

I have made Bartica my base in Guyana as it is the most convenient place for stocking up and there are no villages with shops further up the Essequibo river. It is also a base for the miners who operate in the interior, panning the river for alluvial gold and diamonds.  No one has ever found Eldorado, the city of gold promised by Sir Walter Raleigh after his reconnaissance of the area, but tons of gold are slowly being recovered in a less spectacular fashion.  The main street has many shops buying and selling gold and every hardware shop and general dealer sells delicate scales to weigh the gold dust. It’s a tempting thought to try my hand at a little panning for the precious stuff but of course it’s not that simple. A licence is needed and a section of the river has to be officially allocated. But what a thrilling thought, that there is actually gold in them thar hills! Most of the gold is recovered in the form of fine dust after a patient process of refinement, the heavier gold always settling out from the other sediment.  Some intrepid types dive for it at the base of waterfalls using hookah gear as bigger nuggets collect in the gravel below the falls. The only snag is that visibility underwater is zero so it all has to be done by feel. The divers have to hand over their haul to the owner of the claim who pays them a small fraction of the market value. Not surprisingly some nuggets get concealed in nooks and crannies for later more profitable recovery.

One of the many mine-supply trucks

There are also bauxite mines way up river and the ore is carried down to the coast on massive barges.
One needs to anchor far enough off to allow them to use the channel that runs along the shoreline which means that I get plenty of exercise rowing ashore, trying to avoid being swamped by the fast water taxis and pitting my wits against the tide. My small rowing dinghy is the only one there and has become a source of free local entertainment. I have grown used to being greeted by people miming my rowing action as I walk along 1st Avenue, the main street.  There is a convenient small floating dock attached to the ‘Kool Breeze’ waterside restaurant which is a safe place to leave the dinghy. The restaurant itself is derelict and has closed down awaiting renovation but its extensive wooden deck overlooking the water is a popular place to hang out while waiting for a water taxi or in my case, the right tide for rowing back to Speedwell.

The busy ferry dock

The main street is chaotically busy. Pedestrians crowd the road as there are no pavements and cars and lorries take up all the space along the edges, forcing one into the traffic. Many of the vehicles are massive, mud-spattered Bedford trucks with dire lettering warning of the highly flammable nature of their cargo. Presumably taking supplies up country to the mines.

Shopping in most of the stores is like going back half a century in time. Goods are stacked on shelves behind a long counter and you have to ask for the stuff you need.  Most basic things are available, but strangely, it’s impossible to buy butter. Wine is also not an option, so one settles for the excellent and very cheap rum and of course beer.

All the taxi boats have these strange upturned bows

The currency takes a bit of getting used to. The exchange rate is about 200 to the US$, so the numbers are big and the highest denomination note that the ATM spits out is 1000 (ie. 5 US). I haven’t yet discovered a shop in Bartika that accepts credit cards so fat wads of notes have to be carried around. Apart from the rum, things are pricey.

One small problem that I’ve had is finding methylated spirits or alcohol as its called in Brazil for pre-heating my Primus stove. I stupidly had forgotten to buy a good supply before leaving Natal. I was able to track down a small (250ml) bottle of seriously dark purple coloured liquid with a hand drawn skull and crossbones on the label describing it as ‘mentholated’ spirits but when I tried to use it to light my stove it proved to have been heavily diluted with water and only very reluctantly produced a sullen little flame, totally inadequate for the job. I’m hoping to find something better in Georgetown next week.

 

Tags: cruising
Posted in Cruising, Guyana | 5 Comments »

Baganara Island

Friday, October 5th, 2012

Baganara Island

The day had been uncomfortably hot making it too easy just to flake out sweatily naked on my bunk with the fans stirring the torpid air. Normally there is a cooling thundershower in the afternoon but today the heat was unrelenting. When it became too much for me I would climb over the side of the boat and cool off in the river. The current runs so strongly that I need to keep a good hold on the rope ladder so as not to be swept away downstream.  Earlier on, at daybreak, when it was still cool enough, I had rowed ashore with Sinbad and we spent about an hour on the small beach at one end of the island. The place is a bird sanctuary so I thought it wise to keep the cat on his leash. He was content enough to drag me around and scrabbled in the sand, clawed his way a short way up a few trees and then settled down in a grassy patch to enjoy the surroundings. I sat happily next to him watching the birds through my binoculars which, for once, I had remembered to bring along.
Four or five lapwings were pottering about at the far end of the small beach. They slowly approached us not seeming to be too concerned by our alien presence.

Baganara is a luxury ‘eco-tourism’ resort on an exquisite small island with sandy beaches and lots of birds. There is an airstrip allowing guests to be flown in. I was shown a very friendly welcome and encouraged to explore their nature trail. No charge for anchoring a short way off.

Motoring up the Essequibo River

I had motored up from Bartica with a rising tide, paying close attention to the waypoints I’d been given, with one eye always on the fishfinder.  Even so, at one point I bounced off something solid. The riverbed is very irregular with undulating sandbars and occasional rocks. All impossible to see beneath the chocolatey water.

Monday, 1 October 2012

When the sun set this evening it left the river in total darkness.  Earlier a small plane had taken off from the island which must have been carrying all the resort people back to Georgetown, as now it was completely blacked out. Obviously the last to leave had switched off the lights. I felt very alone on the river, surrounded by the jungle. I put some music on and cracked another Carib.  And then the nearly full moon rose from behind the rainforest casting a friendly light on the water. How wonderful to be just where I was.

Following Bernhard in his rainforest

Yesterday I had visited Bernhard and Sharmilla who have carved out an idyllic living space in the rainforest a bit further up the Essequibo river. Their yacht resting at the end of their own wooden jetty after having carried them around the world.  All the work of clearing a space for their house and vegetable garden has been done by themselves. One really needs to experience the festeringly humid heat and denseness of the forest to appreciate the effort that they must have put into it. Now the garden provides more than enough for their needs. Bernhard took me for a long walk to the limits of their 44 acre property, most of it still in its natural state. He has hacked a network of pathways through the profusion of trees, vines, ferns, palms, flowering shrubs and creepers but needs to walk them constantly to keep them cleared.

Creepy lianas

Trees often fall across the path, their shallow roots undermined by the underground nests of leaf-cutter ants. He walked ahead of me slashing away at intrusive creepers and thorny palms with his cutlass . Occasionally hacking away at bigger branches blocking the way. I was keeping a wary eye out for the snakes which I had been told were plentiful. Thankfully, the only living creatures that I saw were exquisite blue morpho butterflies and busy ants. Bernhard showed me his collection of orchids scattered about on trees in the garden, mostly gathered from the tops of fallen trees which he has had to clear from his paths.

Later, sitting on the wooden verandah that encircles their house, enjoying a taste of the local 5 year old rum and nibbling crispy banana and breadfruit chips as the sun sank lower over the water and frogs and cicadas set up a deafening evening racket, they told me stories about their animal visitors. Most scarily about snakes that came into the house despite it being on stilts, giant otters and capybaras, a black spider-monkey that had to be rescued from their dogs; ant-eaters, caimans, iguanas and gekkos. Insects, of course, are a constant presence.  Maybe not everyone’s idea of paradise.

Tags: Baganara, cruising, Guyana, Rainforest
Posted in Cruising, Guyana | 1 Comment »

On to Guyana

Thursday, September 27th, 2012

Thursday, 20 September 2012

To my relief the anchor came up cleanly. I had been a little worried as all the to-ing and fro-ing with the tide can make a horrible tangle of the chain. It had taken Pat and Lou on ‘Aragon’ nearly a day and a boatload of helpers to get free of an enormously heavy wooden beam that had become caught up in their chain.The muddy water makes it impossible to see anything and a mysterious aquatic world lurks quietly below.

By the time the ebb had started we were ready to go and enjoyed a fast sail down river. Not quite fast enough unfortunately and for the last few hours getting out over the shoals we were reduced to a doggedly slow but steady 2 knots. Just pleased to be able to stay in deep enough water without having to tack.

Checking out the hammock

By now Sinbad knows the routine and was happy to test out his hammock while I negotiated the bumpy water at the entrance to the river. At last the depth increased and the waves took on a more regular pattern. I turned up the coast with the full sail raised and the wind comfortably ‘abaft the beam’. The crescent moon set quite early leaving a wonderful starry night.

Saturday, 22 September 2012

Guyana landfall

After a relaxed and easy sail all of Friday, I arrived off the entrance to the great Essequibo River at dawn. The sky was grey and the water a pale milky chocolate. No sign of land other than clumps of tall sticks planted in the water for holding fishing nets. From a distance it looked like a continuous fence across the river but closer up there was plenty of room to sail between them. The water was a shallow 3 – 4 meters and I was blindly following GPS waypoints to get in. Wind and tide were helping me along so no need for the noisy hot engine. Gazing contentedly at the sail I was a little concerned to notice that one of the lazy jacks wasn’t properly tied off at the cleat on the boom. I really ought to stop and haul the sail in to re-fasten it. But we were going so nicely with the full sail all the way out, practically dead downwind with the Navik coping superbly.  I was loath to upset the status quo and convinced myself that we were only in a river after all and the wind was light. Just then a fierce rain squall struck. The sail gybed wrapping the sheet round the tiller and a protruding bit on the pushpit and the flagstaff. The sudden shock broke a probably already chafed lashing holding the second from the bottom batten to the sail leaving a confused mess of sail, battens and ropes with the wind now gusting ferociously and rain starting to lash us. As they say, ‘the show ain’t over till the fat lady sings’. Before doing anything else I had to quickly remove my expensive new hearing aids which are supposed to be water-resistant but I couldn’t afford to take a chance with them. Cheaper to replace the sail. That done, I was able to come up into the wind and untangle the sheet and release the halyard to drop a few panels. Of course they fell all the way down to the deck without the lazy jacks to retain them. There didn’t appear to be any actual damage. I rescued the escaped lazy jack and managed to lift the sail bundle to secure it again but the strong wind and now rough water made it very difficult to sort out properly. Only a couple of miles to go to reach sheltered waters so I fired up the engine and motored on through the deluge.

The rain didn’t last long and soon we were in calm water with visible land on either side. I stopped the engine and there was still enough usable sail area to keep us moving at 3 knots. It was a gloomy grey day and I hadn’t had more than the odd 20 minutes of sleep now and then since leaving Domburg three days ago. I was looking forward to stopping at Roed en Rust, the first sheltered spot to anchor. We were moving more slowly now as the tide was turning and I was forced to motor the last 5 miles to get in before dark. No lights at all to help one.  At last I identified the right place and went forward to get the anchor ready. The sun had just set and darkness descends rapidly. Just then a boatload of big men with coastguard life-jackets roared up and came alongside. I quickly slipped my tiny fenders between their rough wooden bulwarks and my pretty boat. It was Saturday evening and it looked as though they were heading home but had come over to investigate this strange foreign craft. I produced my passport and answered their questions about safety gear, etc. Sinbad did his usual successful PR job by jumping into their boat. They agreed that it was fine for me to spend the night where I was before moving on to Bartica in the morning to clear customs and immigration. They left cheerfully warning me to put out a good anchor light.  A quick bite to eat and I crashed into blissful oblivion.

Sunday, 23 September, 2012

Early morning at Roed en Rust

I woke up early keen to make the most of the flooding tide to help us to reach Bartica, a further 30nm up river. The timing was convenient and I raised the anchor at slack water and started motoring along. I hauled the sail up hopefully in case the wind strengthened  later. It was an exquisite morning, so different to yesterday.  Now we were moving along next to luscious equatorial rainforest.  A flock of snowy white egrets flew past in brilliant contrast to the intense greens of the jungle. Mostly blue sky with just enough small white clouds to keep things bearably cool. There were a few shallow patches to be avoided but the water was calm and generally deep enough although still too muddy to be able to judge by eye. In places the depth plummeted to more than 20m but the average was around 4 to 5.

Bartica waterfront

Passing Fort Island I was tempted to stop at one of the beautiful, small sandy beaches but the coastguard had phoned ahead to warn Bartica of my arrival.  Best to keep them happy. So on-on.

There was the usual cloudburst a few miles short of Bartica just as I was carefully crossing the shallows at Rattlesnake Passage.  A scattering of rocks in the area were now also totally obliterated by the torrential rain. I slowed right down and waited  for it to pass, which it did soon enough.

The town sits on a point of land where the Mazaruni river joins up with the Essequibo. I sailed up to the recommended anchorage opposite the municipal market and far enough off shore to allow the massive ore barges to use the channel. The waterfront  was busy with the weirdly shaped local water taxis. They have an exaggeratedly high prow and wooden thwarts for about 20 passengers. Massive outboard engines send them speeding over the water raising a high flaring wake. The passengers all seem to be wisely wearing bright orange lifejackets.

I decided to relax for the rest of the day and do my clearing-in first thing on Monday morning.

Tags: cruising
Posted in Cruising, Guyana, Junk Rig, Suriname | No Comments »

Domburg Diary

Friday, August 24th, 2012

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Domburg Waterfront

I needed to start the process of clearing-in with the authorities, so by 8am I was sitting patiently on the wooden bench outside the Chinese grocery shop waiting for the bus to Paramaribo. If I missed the early bus it would mean a long wait for the next one. The trip into town can take up to two hours. There is only room for about 30 passengers and the driver waits at the Paramaribo end of the route until all the seats are filled, before setting off. By the time it reaches my stop, fairly near the end of the line, it’s almost empty so I jump on and am happy to spend an extra half hour on the road till it gets to the turning point at the far end of Domburg, by which time it’s full again. The road is just a single lane track with wide irrigation canals on either side. Luscious greenery everywhere: banana trees, breadfruit, mango trees, mosques and hindu temples.  Coconut trees of course and pink waterlilies in the canals. Roadside stalls selling home-grown pineapples and gigantic pomelos. A fat man on a heavily laden bicycle wobbles along smiling like a happy Buddah. Scraggly, well-worn bitches forage hopefully round rubbish bins. Men take their small song-birds in wooden cages for their morning walk. Birdsong competitions are a popular sport. A green flash as an iguana dashes back into the undergrowth. A beautifully groomed young man gets on board with spangled purple teeshirt, low-slung jeans and glittering bangles upto his elbows.

A shout frightens a blue heron that takes off in low flight above the water lilies and the bus stops and reverses slowly to pick up another passenger.

Dawn on the river

The sun is quite high by now and the bus lacks air-con. One soon learns on which side of the aisle to sit to avoid getting baked. The sliding door is wedged open to let more air in, which makes it advisable to hang on tight as we take the bends in the road. The traffic starts to build up as we approach the city and soon we are gridlocked. Babies start to get restless. I fan myself with my big hat. The lush greenery has been replaced with a crowded confusion of small shops and businesses. Cars and motorcycles on the side for repairs. It would be quicker to walk but I’m not sure how much further we still have to go. At last we pass a square with a statue of Ghandi and we have arrived. Now to find the No 8 bus for the next leg of my journey to the Foreign Police who have to stamp my one-person ‘crew list’ before I can get a visa. Walk across to a different set of busses and wait for it to fill up before we are on our way inland again.

Friday, 3rd August 2012

Paramaribo Ferry Dock

Three trips back and forth and today at last I have official approval of my presence here. A strange rule requires that one must return once a month to have the crew list stamped by the Foreign Police. Whew!

On day 2 of my bureaucratic saga I had to fill in some time while waiting for my passport to be returned and did a quick tour of the historic part of the city. Lots of impressive old wooden buildings along the waterfront and an enormous wooden cathedral. The restored Fort Zeelandia was worth a visit. Also a lively indoor market with a good selection of fresh stuff. I couldn’t really indulge my shopping urge as I still had a lot of bussing to do.

Friday, 10 August 2012

Green Beans for dinner

The boats anchored at Domburg are mostly empty while their owners are visiting family in Europe or have moved ashore. Suriname is becoming a popular escape from the over-regulation and frustrations of living in the civilized world. Of course nowhere is perfect, so expat conversation relies heavily on the problems of daily life in this very different, very warm and slow-moving alternative venue. There are a number of big supermarkets on the outskirts of town where the owners of the intrusively grand new mansions on the riverside can stock their larders with familiar brands imported from ‘home’. Escape is all very well, but…

Ad and Marianna on ‘Betty Boop’ had hired a car for a few days and offered me a lift to Choi’s Supermarket, a long way out of town. I was grateful as I needed to do a bit of stocking up. There are no sandy beaches here so I would have to buy kitty litter for my fastidious cat. Choi’s proved to be an expat’s shopping paradise brimming with familiar European and American brand names. Shopping trolleys were filled, credit cards performed audaciously. When we got back to Domburg I invested in some ice to go with the newly acquired gin and tonic.

Monday, 20 August 2012

Irrigation canal in Domburg

For a while now I have been wondering how to get rid of a heavy and bulky waterproof container of antique emergency flares. They had been on Speedwell when I bought her, already out of date but I had hung on to them thinking it might be tempting fate to dump them and surely some of them must still work. But when I opened the container recently a sulphurous smell blossomed out and I could see that some of the flares were leaking. Time to get them off the boat. I took them ashore and tried my luck at the small police station. The officer I spoke to didn’t know what they were and I had to do some fast talking. I nearly got thrown out with my suspicious baggage when I said it was dangerous for me to keep them on my boat. Interest was arroused when I suggested that they might be used as spectacular fireworks at New Year. A call was made to some higher authority, a receipt was hand-written and I was able to leave empty-handed, really happy to have got rid of the troublesome things at last.

Tags: cruising, Domburg, Suriname
Posted in Cruising, Suriname | 1 Comment »

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.

Leaving the islands

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

Big dolphins

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.

Big ship waiting to go in

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?

Approaching the buoy at the entrance

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

View from the anchorage at Domburg

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.

Tags: cruising, Suriname
Posted in Cruising, French Guiana, Suriname | No Comments »

Kourou

Friday, July 20th, 2012

Thursday, 5 July 2012

The Space Centre was going to launch a rocket later in the day and the islands had to be evacuated. I had planned to leave at noon in order to have a favourable tide to help me along, but the authorities were getting restless.  A helicopter circled at mast height while the pilot made signals for me to leave. There were still people on the island waiting to be taken off so the urgency seemed a little over the top but I dutifully raised the anchor and set off against the current only able to manage a slowish 2.5 knots. There was no wind so the engine was getting some exercise.

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The old dredger keeping the channel clear

The channel is dredged and very well marked with big lit buoys.  The muddy water was about 4m deep. This was at almost low water springs. Some ominous rocks crowded near the mouth of the river and the current was very strong. The wind had picked up a little by now and it would have helped to have some sail up but this was no place to stop and get the sun awning down. I cursed myself for not being better prepared.  

When we eventually made the turn at the entrance to the river, I was sorry to see that the friendly little club where I had spent a pleasant month in 2002 seemed to have silted up. Only one catamaran on a mooring.  Rather a pity. I carried on a bit further and just around the next bend there is a good place to anchor in 3m outside the channel and quite close to a marina.  I shall go ashore tomorrow to do some exploring.

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The abandoned club

I wasn’t sure what time the launch was scheduled to take place and was contentedly sitting in the cockpit sipping my sundowner, when loud shouting from ‘Voyager’, anchored nearby, woke me up to the fact that something was happening.

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Belated shot of the rocket launch

I looked up and saw the eye-searingly bright light of the rocket blasting up into the evening sky leaving a solid white contrail against the setting sun. It was quite spectacular and I scrabbled for my camera for a belated shot.

Friday, 6th July 2012

Rowing ashore requires careful timing to cope with the strong tidal flow of the river.

On my first foray ashore I was badly caught out, returning heavily laden and sweaty after a strenuous shopping trip only to find the dinghy high and dry in the mud and the ebb (against which I would have to row) still running amazingly strongly. It looked like I was in for a long wait. But then some friendly locals arrived and saw my plight. Helped me get the dinghy on the dock and relaunched where there was still water and generously insisted on giving me a tow behind their motorised inflatable. I was very grateful. They also gave me a lovely fresh coconut. Merci beaucoup.

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The market

There is a really good market a short walk from the jetty with reasonably priced, locally grown produce. The supermarket stocks refrigerated, plastic-wrapped, ‘European’ lettuces, carrots, tomatoes, etc, at exhorbitant prices. Imported from France. There is a much more varied choice of tinned stuff here compared to Brazil. Sinbad seemed happy with a neat little meal of ‘Terrine gourmande, riche en Saumon’.

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Fishing boats on the jetty

After one of my trips ashore the fishermen on the jetty stopped me and insisted on giving me a big piece of one of the enormous fish they had just caught. We feasted for two days.

Sunday, 15 July 2012

On Friday I took a walk along the beach and down to the mouth of the river. Rather a good beach although the water is a bit muddy.

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Muddy waters

Approaching the river, some big slabs of rock stretch out into the water. It was low tide and I was able to walk a long way out. Interesting pools and some very odd fish that swim just below the surface and have bulbous eyes, rather like the old Porsche headlights, that are actually above the surface as they skim along.

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Les Roches with Îles du Salut on the horizon

Typically I had forgotten to bring my binoculars and there were some interesting birds foraging around the pools. Two of which were either skimmers or kingfishers with enormous beaks. Lots of herons and black headed gulls. Vultures on the beach keeping things clean.

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My air-con

It gets pretty warm here at times, especially at night when the wind drops. I rigged up a very effective ceiling fan using a computer cooling fan that I bought ages ago in Salvador. It’s almost silent and uses hardly any power so I can let it run all night while I sleep, which is wonderful.

I’ll probably be moving on to Suriname this weekend.

Tags: cruising
Posted in Cruising, French Guiana | No Comments »

Îles du Salut

Thursday, July 12th, 2012

Monday, 2 July 2012

I spent my first day in the anchorage catching up on the sleep deficit and tidying things up. Just luxuriating in the beautiful surroundings.

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Anchorage at Île Royale

 

Early the next morning I went ashore and followed the path that goes all around Île Royale which is the biggest of the three islands and has some restored buildings.

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A footpath goes round the island

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every few meters along the path there are admonitory warning signs about slippery rocks, treacherous currents, high cliffs that you might fall over if not warned about, dangerous swimming. I wondered if each sign marked the site of a previous accident, in Brazil there might have been little shrines.

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Hard to imagine that it was once a prison

 

 

 

 

Every day two or three huge catamarans arrive with day trippers. The black rocks surrounding the designated swimming area are soon draped with sunworshippers.

 

I walked inland to the higher part of the island and inspected the impressive lighthouse. On the way up I saw spangled butterflies, big, sky-blue-headed, lime-green-tailed lizards, free ranging chickens, a big pink pig and many agoutis.

There is a restaurant to cater for the catamaran visitors but I had no Euros so had to manage without a refreshment stop.

The last prisoners were taken off the islands in 1947 but the ruined buildings and the museum provide a chilling reminder of the old horrors.

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Devils Island

Devil’s Island is the smallest of the three and is cut off by a narrow shark infested channel with a strong current. Hopefully now that they have stopped burying the frequent prison mortalities at sea, the sharks have moved along. This island was where long term deportees and political prisoners were kept. Dreyfuss spent his time here. According to the museum, Henri Charriér, who wrote about his daring escape from the island in his book Papillon, was actually imprisoned at Cayenne on the mainland. Well, it was a good read anyway.

Wednesday, 4 July 2012

Yesterday Suza off the yacht ‘Voyager’ gave me a ride across to Île Saint Joseph in their powerful RIB. It would have been a bit of a battle to row across the channel in Bokkom so I was very grateful. Again there is a well-maintained footpath all around the island. It’s no longer possible to explore the ruins of the old prison as they have become dangerous with falling rocks according to the warning notices.

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The beach on Île Saint Joseph

 

 

I was happy to find a small beach where I could collect some sand for Sinbad’s litter tray.

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Island graveyard

 

 

 

 

 

 

A less cheerful sight was the old graveyard for those who were priveleged enough not to be thrown to the sharks.

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The prisoners bathing pool

 

 

 

 

 

At one point we looked down on the pool where the prisoners were allowed to wash.  It was low tide and just a muddy puddle remained. Rotten luck  if it was your day for the monthly dip.

 

 

Today it rained, which was very welcome as I was able to do some washing and top up the water tanks. The rain showers tend to be very localized and it can be rather  frustrating to watch the rain pass by a few hundred meters away without leaving a drop on board.

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Navy ship keeping an eye on things

 

 

Tomorrow I plan to move to Kourou as the Space Center will be launching a rocket and the area has to be cleared. Two navy ships have arrived to make sure that everyone leaves.

Tags: cruising, French Guiana, Îles du Salut
Posted in Cruising, French Guiana | No Comments »

Natal to Îles du Salut

Tuesday, July 10th, 2012

Monday, 18 June 2012

I was up at first light (5am) to start raising the anchors. The tide would be in my favour until 8 am. After a bit of sweating and swearing I managed to raise the kedge. A quick coffee break and check around to make sure everything was ready – dinghy on deck and cleaned, sun awning down, Navik connected, engine started just to be safe, and all the other little odds and ends that I ought to have a checklist for. Main anchor up and we just made it before the tide turned. A cool, cloudy day with a useful 5-10 knot SE breeze. We were on our way.

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Passing Redinha on the way out

As soon as I was out of the channel and in open water I set up the Navik MkII, twiddled it for the desired course, and with some trepidation, sat back to see how it behaved. Perfect! Better than MkI. Soon we were in calmer water beyond the reef and I was able to relax a little. Some small adjustments to the sail. The repaired boom looking fine.

We are doing a steady 5-6 knots and the sun is shining. Sinbad caught a big flying fish that crash-landed on the deck last night, so that’s his food for the day taken care of.

Friday, 22 June 2012

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Cruising along

We crossed the equator at dawn this morning. Still racing along with just three panels up. I decided to hold the champagne till we arrived at Îles du Salut and settled for a celebratory toasted cheese and tomato sandwich for breakfast.

Sunday, 24 June 2012

For five days we rushed along doing an exhilarating 6-7 knots. I suspect that at least 2 of those knots were due to the current that runs up the coast, so it was reasonably comfortable. To add to my ease and peace of mind the AIS was working at last which meant I was able to get a bit more sleep than usual. I had the zoom set at 32nm and each time a ship crossed the 16nm radius circle the alarm would go off. Loud enough to wake me, even minus hearing aids. Very reassuring. ‘Thanks’ to those who encouraged me to persevere with it.

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Sinbad's comfort zone

Apart from the occasional flying fish there had been very little evidence of life around us until Friday night when a small flock of about 8 or 10 birds decided to use us as an overnight stop. They were roughly pigeon-sized but with the long sharp beak and pointy wings of a tern. Not white but an all over charcoal grey. I wasn’t too keen to put them up for the night as there was already evidence that they had not been house trained. But they were determined and no amount of shouting or hand clapping could scare them off. Sinbad was on the alert but wary of those business like beaks. One chancer settled himself on top of the compass. The only way I could move him was to carefully pick him up and carry him to a more suitable berth. Where he stayed, after an indignant squawk. The rest were distributed about on the lifelines, solar panel, dinghy and dodger. All pointing accurately into the wind. All contentedly settling down for a good night’s sleep. Sinbad looked disgusted and retreated below to his hammock. Just before sunrise there was a concentrated half hour of preening and stirring about and one by one they soon took off, heading SE, on the road again.

Monday, 25 June 2012

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The last two to leave

Last night another group of the black terns arrived. According to my ‘Birds of North America’, they are Black Noddies. This bunch were more troublesome than the previous lot, as for some reason they targetted the Navik vane and the solar panel as the most desirable perches. After much squabbling, three of them settled down on the solar panel but another was doggedly determined to roost on the windvane which would have had us going around in confused circles with sail gybing and sheets getting tangled around everything. (I know all about this, it’s happened before. ) I had to discourage the idiot at all costs. Waving the boat hook around to scare him off had hardly any effect. Eventually I found that copying their loud squawking cries with some swear words thrown in was the best deterrant. At last he retreated to the spraydodger. I like birds, but really, this lot are just too pushy. When all had quietened down, Sinbad sneaked out on deck and joined them peaceably on the coach roof, in the moonlight, nose to windward. An eerie sight.

As it had been cloudy most of the day I decided to run the engine for a while to give the battery a boost. to my disgust I found that water had come in the exhaust again – I hadn’t bothered to put the bung in and I suppose the following seas for the first few wild days must have worked their way in. Nothing for it but to drain the sump and replace with clean oil. What a pain. Luckily I had spare oil. It’s still a bit of a mystery why this is happening as I haven’t changed anything to do with the exhaust and it never happened for the first eight years after installing the new engine. Something will have to be done. Well, after the oil change the engine ran quite happily again and I took the opportunity to test the dried out Tillerpilot which seems to have made a complete recovery after its soaking.

Today we are about 100nm offshore from the mouth of the Amazon with about 340 nm to go. The sun is shining, a gentle breeze is keeping us moving steadily along, it doesn’t get much better.

Tuesday, 26 June 2012

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A ketch passing in the distance

I saw three ships today. The first was a big ketch which I spotted coming up from astern early in the morning. It passed too far off for me to recognise, but it didn’t look familiar.  I might see them again when I stop. Next was a small fishing boat which chugged up and passed quite close by giving me a bit of a start as I was engrossed in my book, sitting in the altogether in the cockpit. They gave me a cheerful wave. Later I was woken from a little snooze by the AIS alarm. A big ship had just entered the 16 nm circle. So much action! I tracked it as it approached and it eventually passed about a mile to starboard.

Weatherwise it’s been a slow day, hot with a flukey wind only barely enough to fill the sail. But we have been able to keep moving. Only 200 miles to go now and the colour of the water has changed from a brilliantly clear dark sapphire blue to a murkier shade, probably due to mud from the Amazon delta.

Thursday, 28 June 2012

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Iles du Salut at dawn

Two frustratingly slow days with the wind alternately dying completely or hammering us with a quick and dirty squall. The poor Navik is battling to hold any sort of course and we are effectively just drifting at 2 knots with the current. I have been trying to edge in closer to the coast whenever there is a bit of usable wind. At about 10pm I started motoring. There was a helpful half moon and the sea was flat calm. Brilliant phosphorescence in our wake.

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Towering rainclouds

We were still surrounded by towering rainclouds but they seemed to be keeping out of our path. At last I could see the loom of the lights of Cayenne and Kourou which gave me something positive to steer by. I had resorted to hand steering to be sure of staying awake as we approached the coast.

Friday, 29 June 2012

At first light this morning the little Îles du Salut archipelago formed a dark silhouette on the horizon. Two lights flashing their bright beams. The air was filled with the rich tropical smell of the jungle. Sinbad popped up to check it out. I passed round the southern end of Île Saint Joseph and anchored in 4m in the Baie des Cocotiers in the lee of Île Royale.

Tags: AIS, Black Noddies, cruising, sailing
Posted in Brazil, Cruising, French Guiana | 1 Comment »

Still in Natal

Wednesday, June 13th, 2012

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

The colourful fishing harbour

Yesterday I had to reset the stern anchor. The wind had picked up and with the incoming tide we had swung too far over. When I set it originally the tide had also been rising making it difficult to position the kedge far enough aft. I waited for the tide to turn and let out the main anchor chain to get closer to the stern anchor. I thought it would be a quick job. How wrong can you be? It was windy, (15 knots?) and by now the tide was running out fast. The Fortress anchor seemed impossibly difficult to raise even using the windlass. At last it was visible and I could see what the problem was – it was horribly tangled in the heavy chain of the main anchor. Not possible to simply unwind it. It would be dark soon and I wanted to reset it before the tide turned again. I worked at it from the dinghy but everything was immovably jammed. I had to tie a line lower down to the main chain and try to raise it to take the tension off the snarled up mess. Without a windlass it would have been impossible for me to do. Eventually this ploy was successful but it was slow going and by the time I’d sorted it all out it was dark and I was utterly exhausted, but happy to still have all my fingers intact. There are times when it would be useful to have a bit more muscle power.

Looking down from the bridge

While wrestling with ropes and chain I felt grateful that I had opted to sail north from Buenos Aires and not south to my preferred destination of Tierra del Fuego. I doubt if I have the stamina for singlehandedly rowing four lines ashore, battling against williwaws in freezing temperatures, each time I needed to anchor in the fiords. And then having to reverse the process when leaving. And all done quite smartly before the anchor drags. Not on my own. No. At least here it’s warm and the situation is merely inconvenient rather than dangerous.

Monday, 11 June 2012

Zeca returned the repaired boom on Friday and I spent a day fiddling about and painting it. It looks good for another 10,000 miles or more. I decided to take a break on Sunday as it had stopped raining. A chance to do some sightseeing.

The press found me

I had suddenly become famous, as the local newspaper had printed a prominent feature about me and my travels. I didn’t feel comfortable being the focus of so much attention.

I set out fairly early and walked across the peninsula to the beach leading to the old Portuguese fort. A cool onshore breeze kept things comfortable. The beach was packed. A heaving, screaming, eating mass of humanity, roasting in the sun or sheltering under an almost solid forest of beach umbrellas. The safe, sheltered lagoon, bobbing with colourful inflatable toys with children attached. Music blasting from a thousand portable sound systems. People were enjoying a relaxing Sunday at the seashore.

I picked my way carefully through the throng, paddling along at the water’s edge. Beyond the reef streaming white horses were being whipped up by the fresh breeze. At last the crowds were thinning out. Too far to walk from the parking lot carrying all the equipment for the day. Now it was just the occasional fisherman.

Fort at the end of the reef

The massive fort sprawls threateningly as it looms out of the light haze at the far end of the lagoon. The tide was running out making it possible to approach across the wet sand. It has a magnificent situation at the end of the reef, guarding the entrance to the protected anchorage in the Rio Potengi.

I continued along the official approach to the fort, which would be the only access at high tide, but heading back up river towards the high bridge that swoops across to Redinha on the opposite bank. I wanted to walk across and look down on the scene.

The footpath on the bridge

It was a bit of a slog, but worth the effort. I could see the tiny speck that was Speedwell anchored with the small cluster of other boats at the club. A large Navy base takes up most of the space at the entrance. Anchoring off the base is prohibited.

When I reached the other side I carried on walking to the pier and riverside beachfront at Redinha. If I’d thought the fort side was crowded, this was in another dimension. At times the music was painfully loud. By now I was getting thirsty. No shortage of beach bars and restaurants here. Only problem was finding an empty table. At last I found a likely spot where the decibel level of the music was bearable and settled down to watch the promenaders while sipping away at a ‘cerveja bem gelada’. Most of the bodies being paraded were on the fleshy side.

I had a delicious plate of fish and crispy macaxeira chips. A starchy root vegetable which is better than the local potatoes. Feeling mellow but a bit weary I decided to catch a bus back to the other side.

Icy cold beer in Redinha

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

I’ve just finished re-rigging the sail. It was a slow job getting it all together again on Speedwell’s narrow and windswept deck. Frequent rain showers meant that it took me nearly three days to do it. Now it’s all together again, the boom looks healthy and I feel more comfortable having a seaworthy boat again. Weather permitting, I hope to leave at the weekend.

Tags: cruising
Posted in Brazil, Cruising | 1 Comment »

Patching things up in Natal

Wednesday, June 6th, 2012

Sunday, 27 May 2012

Tanker passing close by..

 

The anchorage off the Yacht Club of Natal is quite tight and with the strong tidal current it’s necessary to put out two anchors. There’s no room to swing as big ships come rumbling up the channel with attendant tugs. The club people are friendly but at R$50 a day it’s a bit pricey. I’m hoping to negotiate a long-term deal.

I emailed Brian in Jacaré explaining my predicament. To my delight he replied that he had a second-hand Navik paddle in his ‘jumble’. How lucky is that?! The boom repair should also be no problem. So next week I’ll take the bus down to Jacaré to fetch the stuff and we should soon be on our way again.

Sinbad taking advantage of the bundled up sail

I spent Friday morning getting the sail off and removing the boom. It was sunny and dry so I was able to fold up the sail and stow it below. As things were drying out so nicely I decided to check the tiller pilot to see if it had recovered. When I plugged it in it started squealing again and refused to cooperate. Nothing for it but drastic surgery. Against all bold-type warnings in the instruction manual I got out my screwdriver and opened it up. As it came apart, water literally poured out. It wasn’t just damp. No wonder it was complaining. I tasted the water. Hmmm… not salty…maybe it will be alright. I dried it off as well as I could and left it out in the sunny breeze with its innards exposed, bringing it back inside for the night. Next day I checked very carefully for signs of crusty dried out salt using a magnifying glass but it looked clean. So I put it together again taking great care with the sealing gasket. Plugged in, and it’s back to normal. I’ll have to remember to put a plastic bag over it next time.

Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Some interesting old buildings..

On Monday I took a long sightseeing stroll through town aiming to end up at the bus terminus to find out about getting to João Pessoa the next day. Brian had said he would be able to help me. It was a long walk but I took it slowly meandering up interesting side streets, stopping here and there for a refreshing cóco gelada. Mostly a bit run down but also some interestingly restored buildings. Small green praças with stalls selling baskets and fruit. As I approached the rodoviaria it became more industrial. Garages and repair shops, paint and hardware. All rather attention grabbing. I bought a new screw-on weight for my pressure cooker. At last I reached the big bus terminus and found out that there would be a bus to João Pessoa every two hours starting from 05:30.

Regimented coconut trees from the bus window

Next day I made an early start. The 3 hour bus trip was interesting enough, but mostly farmlands – coconut and sugar cane plantations stretching to the horizon. One enormous ploughed field with an army of workers scattering seed by hand.

When I reached João Pessoa I walked over to the train station as I thought it would be easier getting to Jacaré by train carrying the bulky remains of the Navik, but sadly the railway workers were on strike. So a slow hot trudge to the bus stop. I slightly guiltily made use of the convenient seat on the bus reserved for old folk and the physically challenged.

Brian doing wizardly things with his lathe

When I eventually reached Jacaré after walking from the bus stop at Intermares, Brian showed me the paddle that he had found and it was definitely usable. Sylvia joined us for a quick lunch and then we set to work planning a rebuild to make the gear fit Speedwell. It was decided to replace the shaft which was too long. I had brought the complicated fitting that attaches to the top section and after cleaning off the ragged remnants of the old one it would be possible to weld the new shaft to it.

Early next morning the driver was sent off to João Pessoa with a shopping list and came back with the necessary odds and ends to put it all together again. Amazing things were done with lathe and welding machine. I watched in wonder. Brian was unstoppable in between constant cell phone interruptions by other needy souls. With help from his faithful team of workers it was ready to go by 3pm and a speedy drive to João Pessoa got me and my gear to the 3:30 bus back to Natal with 6 minutes to spare.

It was dark by the time we reached the Rodoviaria on the outskirts of Natal so I indulged in the luxury of a taxi to get me back to the yacht club. Sinbad was relieved to see me again as his bowl of tuna was long gone and the kibble was getting low. Drinking water had not been a problem as I’d set up the rain catcher to run directly into a bucket which was already full of rainwater. He likes the macho touch of lapping straight from the bucket.

Saturday, 2 June 2012

Next day I had to go through the rigmarole of clearing back into Brazil, at the club’s insistence. Customs, Immigration, Port Captain. The immigration (Policia Federal) office is a long way from the port, but they sent an official with his uniform, clipboard and date-stamp to process me at the club, which was very helpful. All very simpático.

Monday, 4 June 2012

This morning Zeca, who is repairing my boom, drove me to his workshop in Redinha on the other side of the Potengi river. Looking down from the dizzy height of the spectacular bridge as we drove across, I had a wonderful view of the fort at the entrance to the port and the protected lagoon behind the reef. I must find time to do some exploring before I leave.

The boom repair was progressing well and I had brought the cleats for the lazy jacks with me which need to be reattached. The patch still needs to be riveted on to prevent the same thing happening as did with my repair attempt.

The precious new paddle

Back on Speedwell I carried on painting and beautifying the precious new paddle. Also fashioned a new support for the Tillerpilot as the old one had developed a bad wobble.
Also repaired the solar panel regulator which had shorted out. Again I wondered how people on big complicated boats coped with the ongoing maintenance.

Tuesday, 5 June 2012

I’ve just spent a sweaty and frustrating hour battling to get the split pin that holds the paddle to the shaft properly fixed in and bent back to allow the paddle to rotate freely. Just a tiny space to work on it which made it nearly impossible to grab it properly with a pliers. I had to take a short break at one point to let off steam. At last it was done. Now we are ready for sea trials. Quite amazing!

Tags: Boat maintenance, cruising, Natal
Posted in Brazil, Cruising | No Comments »

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