21.01.09 – Dave sees a turtle
It is a blue black night and there are a zillion stars. I have been threading us through almost as many fishing boats of the Rio Grande fleet. Now Dave’s abed and I have the…
It is a blue black night and there are a zillion stars. I have been threading us through almost as many fishing boats of the Rio Grande fleet. Now Dave’s abed and I have the…
The headwinds have been monotonous, as we knew they would be. Fortunately not as strong as anticipated. We have the main up and sometimes the yankee too, but Mr Ford’s Invention has been grinding away…
We’re peering into a black night, looking for a little light which is flashing 3 times every 10 seconds, just for us. We should see it in 20 minutes, I say, then cross my fingers…
At 1400h we dropped anchor in the first bay of Porto Belo. Full of motor boats, pirate ships, floating prawn restaurant, plus the odd fishing trawler and 2 cruising boats – Mallard (bob and bette),…
A grey morning with commercial shipping, low green shoreline, humble housing and a pleasing absence of toytown high rise. This is a working port. We moseyed up river and anchored off the old town,…
Calm grey seas and intermittent showers. Clusters of fishing boats at the 20m line, which is almost 20 miles offshore hereabouts. I thought ennui were Eskimos till I discovered Brasil’s coastline. Henry Ford is tireless…
We fuelled up at 1300 – 450 litres at R2 per litre – and fled Santos. We were given complimentary T-shirts by Rosie at the yard, and were charged nothing. Such nice people. Light variable…
Last night the sunset was a vulgar Roger Dadd cataclysm. Unsubtle oranges and blacks. We were chased into San Sebastiano channel by the thunderstorm which brought cooling rain and a favourable breeze. We anchored in…
The barometer is rising and it will be a hot one today. Up at 8, after a hearty metamucil breakfast I am raring to go. Dave rightly observes that we have no food and cigarette…
At 0300 on Monday our log reads “Ipanema beach abeam 3 miles” and the lights of the favela sprawl up into the hills behind. Jesus looked benignly down at us through the mist as we…
Funny how a small thing can change your day. The unsolicited hug from an errant daughter does wonders. So it is with Tainui. When she picks up her skirts and flies, our moods do likewise.…
After the longest, most tedious motor sail we finally tied up at Vitoria YC soon after dawn. A joy to turn the engine off. The waterfront is fascinating, it being the service centre for the…
As always, the breeze died at 2 am and we were motoring again. Still it is the last day of this Henry Ford epic. Approaching Salvador harbour we shook hands and quaffed. I said the…
It rained in Rio, or as they say in Portuguese, “hained in hio”. In Niteroi the Niemyer MMA and Rio itself look gorgeous through the mist. Some special treats – the 16th century library; an impromptu…
We are away from the boat for a couple of weeks. David is off exploring with Jeanette while Christine has joined me to give Rio some slightly more respectful attention. But now we are in…
Back in Bahia, it was hot and very steamy. The faded, mouldy opulence of Portuguese colonial architecture looks sad, but there is such exuberance in Salvador. Dirty, noisy, hot, peligroso and tourist-oriented. But very alive.…
Chris has gone home. Time now to digest some of the memories of our cruise up Rio Paraguaςu and our time at Itaparica. Not to overlook that extraordinary interlude at Lencois – the emerald hummingbirds,…
We at last dragged ourselves away from this noisy, dirty, exuberant, dangerous and vibrant city. Memories of urine along the pissing wall; the caterwauling of the Bosun’s whistle at Capitania do Portos; the tiny black…
A slow night ticking off the looms of towns along this endless coast. There is still a strong set to the south, varying between 1.5 and 2.5 knots. This causes dispiritude as boat speed is…
Natal was the nicest, mellowest, coolest, palmiest and easiest place we’ve been since Nelson. No other yachts (we hated all the pretension of the French cruising community at Cabadelo) and the prettiest little club a…
We spent a taxing night weaving our way through fresh squalls. Dave has the uncanny knack of attracting them. I would just be drifting off to sleep when Tainui would be over on our…
It is a sunny morning. The netting over the saloon table (and over Dave’s comatose body) is pregnant with papayas, mangos, pineapples, melons, apples and limes. Food groups are getting much attention. Do hops and…
Yesterday we crossed the equator at 1130 in 43 deg 39.8W. No celebration – Dave asleep. Grey all day with squalls graciously passing on each side. A boisterous, wet and uncomfortable night, close on…
A fast night but now light airs and 5 knots through the water. Excellent vegetable stew.Today I lost a bucket over the side. The first time in 35 years. One of Ian’s excellent Piriapolis…
Today is sunny with an easier, steady NE trade allowing dry decks. We still have some fruit – pineapples, melons to go. Trade wind sailing. We haven’t touched the sails for 4 days now,…
Birdsong, rain, a lazy brown river, dense jungle and rich organic smells. A desultory collection of mouldy French yachts at a rickety jetty – the burnt out ends of tropical dreams. Repaired trilight. Provisioned…
Departed Cayenne at 1800 and at 2330 we made Devils Island. We rounded the southern tip of Isle Royale and anchored in 5 m of water with a rocky shore only 50 m behind us.…
Our romp last night became a lope and then a dawdle. 4 knots with 1.5 knots of corriente to assist. By 3 am we were in 15 m of water, with little breeze. At dawn…
We hauled the anchor in the Paramaribo River after the top of the tide. The 6 mile channel out to sea from the river mouth passes through invisible shoals. The markers are about a mile…
Good Friday was good indeed. At Natal, the shoulder of Brazil, sailing north suddenly becomes a joyous affair. The trades and the west setting current both split there and finally we had them both in…
A week into our little voyage and I am only now settling down enough to put finger to keyboard. The fortnight before we left Trinidad was a nightmare of newly discovered problems, each of…
We have just left a secluded anchorage on the west coast of Dominican Republic. A jagged limestone shoreline peppered with caves and dripping with rainforest. Reminiscent of Halong Bay. In one cave Lucy was attacked…
I was sad leaving Ernesto Hemingway Marina in Havana. Lovely Peter, who had watched our mooring lines over the cyclone season, arrived with armloads of fresh vegetables to help me cast off. He had tears…
Sailing in fog has been a new experience. In Maine they call it dungeon fog when you can’t see the front of the boat. Like flying on instruments, you have all sorts of odd sensations…
We are now heading north along the west coast of Newfoundland. After bloating ourselves on mooseburger, fried cod tongue and other Newfoundland delicacies at Woody Point in Bonne Bay, we motored out into the mist.…
In no particular order, here follow some images of this wonderful island. They are as yet unlabelled, but I will add captions in due course.
Battle Harbour is on the north side of the Straits of Belle Isle. Our first approach to this snug little tickle was in fading light. Not the easiest approach, although once done, it seems straightforward…
For most of this short summer Tainui has been exploring the mid-Labrador coast. David and Ian joined me in Nova Scotia and brought culinary skills and extended bar room hours long forgotten on poor old…