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Where am I ? > Journals > St. Helena - Brazil > |
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St.Helena - BrazilPREVIOUS JOURNALDay 190, Saturday 5 February 2005
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I should keep silent, but the fresh water pump is still working. Sometimes it sputters a bit and other times it keeps running even though you closed the tap, but if it keeps up like this and we can have our daily shower, we’re happy. An intelligent yet simple system gives us hot water to shower with. Just a sturdy plastic bag that you put in the sun for an hour and the water temperature is just like coming out of a boiler. Thanks to the small nozzle we only use 4 litres per person, which enables us taking a shower daily without running into water shortage.
Sitting on the foredeck I enjoy the emptiness of the ocean. Since we left St. Helena we haven't seen any other ship, as if this entire ocean belongs to us. Indefatigable Espiritu covers mile after mile, under an amazing sky with cumulus clouds that are reflected in the deep-blue water. These cumulus clouds are typical for the trades, indicating stable wind. This is just perfect, the beautiful weather, the unceasing sound of rippling water against the hull and the mild nights with stars as far as you can see. |
[Stefan >>]
And Natascha was just saying how happy she was with the spinnaker... Let me be the bad news messenger again – we managed to blow it up for the second time.
The weather is dominated by one rainsquall after the other; some with a bit of wind, most of them don’t carry anything. Then I see one coming that’s a bit darker so I stay outside to keep an eye out. When the squall arrives and it starts raining there doesn’t seem to be a lot of wind. The wind meter hovers between 12 and 15 knots, even dropping to 10 knots. And suddenly, there is 25 knots, so fast that the autopilot is too slow in its reaction to make up for the increasing weather helm. We head up, broach and before I can release the sheet I hear a rattling noise. Shit, too late, it’s gone. Damned, you stupid, stubborn, lazy idiot! You should have taken it down. There you go, this is your reward. Go and fish it out of the water.
Looking at the mess after we brought it in the cockpit, we have some hope it can be repaired again. The tear only took out 20 inches of cloth, the rest is along the seams. All nice and good, but that’s not going to help us now – the first decent sailmaker can only be found in Trinidad. For the time being, we can only seek comfort in a beer to get away from our little misery.
Day 197, Saturday 12 February 2005
08° 34.8' S 19° 04.1' W
Atlantic Ocean
We have been a week at sea now and covered half of the passage - another 850 miles to go. In absence of the spinnaker we’ll have to continue just like most cruisers, the sails set wing-on-wing with the boom fixed with a preventer and the genoa poled out to the other side. With 15 knots of wind, we’re still doing a reasonable 6 knots of boat speed. Why didn’t we do this yesterday...?
Only downside is the banging of the sails when the wind drops under 11 knots, which is actually more damaging than sailing hugely over-powered. Knowing that the noise really gets on your nerves leaves you indecisive as what to do. Drop the sails and motor or leave them like this and accept the damage knowing that everybody sails like this. Apparently their sails sustain this kind of abuse, so let’s hope ours are as strong. And you know what, each time the noise gets unbearable and I start the engine to drop the sails, the wind picks up again! Neptune is playing games on us here.
The wind lives up to its promises keeping up a steady 15 to 20 knots. At 4 pm we toast to the 1,000 miles we have covered since St. Helena. This is far from excellent in 8 days time, especially when keeping the 180 miles days in the Indian Ocean in mind. That was more my kind of Ocean.
[<< Stefan]
Day
198, Sunday 13 February 2005
07° 14.6' S 21° 00.0' W
Atlantic Ocean
[Natascha >>]
Neptune seems to feel sorry for us now that we lost the spinnaker and gives us some wind to cheer us up. From the moment we blew up the spinnaker the wind increased to a very welcome 15 to 20 knots and it looks like this will continue for a while, too much wind for the spinnaker anyway. With the main up and the genoa poled out we go full tilt for our target destination. We easily do 7-8 knots, the speedometer even shows 9.2 knots for a second.
The water temperature has already gone up to 27.5 degrees Celsius. Expecting it will rise even more the coming 700 miles, we are very much looking forward to diving again. We had two strikes today but no luck. Both fishes managed to escape. The first one must have been quit big resulting in a broken line and a lost lure. The second one jumped off the hook.
Day 199, Monday 14 February 2005
06° 15.0' S 23° 27.0' W
Atlantic Ocean
A pulse raising event happened last night. It was almost the end of my night watch. I was brushing my teeth in de cockpit entrance when something big hit my chest. My heart missed a few beats and when I switched on the light I saw this enormous flying fish lying on the cockpit floor, gasping for breath. Eeeeeks!!! At my cry for help, Stefan jumps out of his bed and throws the stinking animal back to where it came from. Nice catch though and without a line or lure!
Only 555 miles to go at 7 am which means we'll most likely arrive on Friday, provided we do an average of 5.5 knots. At the moment we do over 7 knots so no complains. Covered over the last 24 hours: 157 miles...a record during this passage!
Day 200, Tuesday 15 February 2005
05° 42.0' S 25° 39.0' W
Atlantic Ocean
The wind died again yesterday night so we’re motoring again. The bit of wind we do have is exactly from the stern, blowing the exhaust fumes right in the cockpit. Having the exhaust high over the water has the advantage that you can easily monitor the cooling water, but at times like this, the disadvantage becomes quite apparent.
We give ourselves a break in the afternoon and kill the engine to enjoy a bit of unpolluted silence for a couple of hours. Drifting about at 2 knots doesn’t get us anywhere though, so after Happy Hour we bring the iron genoa to live again. "Fernando here we come...!"
[<< Natascha]
Day 201, Wednesday 16 February 2005
05° 18.6' S 27° 39.2' W
Atlantic Ocean
[Stefan
>>]
The ever changing weather gives me a nice workout, starting at 4 am:
- Wind picks up so sails up and motor down.
- Wind shifts to a run, so the genoa needs to be poled out for which Natascha needs to be woken up to assist me.
- Wind drops altogether and shifts by 90 degrees to the beam. The autopilot is getting so confused that I decide to hand steer for a while.
- We’re still not comfortable so I drop the main and motor ahead.
- The wind shift seems more permanent so we take the genoa from the pole and hoist the main again.
- Wind freshens to 20 knots. Temporary or do we need to reef?
- Hand steer for a while and eventually put two reefs in to get rid of the weather helm.
- Finally, the wind shifts to the South again which asks for the genoa to be poled out.
This almost looks like the doldrums. Are we already loosing the trade winds then? Would be a bit early, but as long as we have enough wind to sail I’m fine – regardless of the winds’ name.
Day 202, Thursday 17 February 2005
04° 22.7' S 29° 44.8' W
Atlantic Ocean
Mutiny on Espiritu, on a small scale, but still. Natascha decides that she is sick and tired of being pushed out of bed twice a night so wishes to change the night watch scheme. Normally she wakes me at 2 am for my shift until 4:30 am, when she takes over again for the last shift.
Now I wake up at 3:30 am and go outside for a pee. Thinking I have one more hour – that’s how times are programmed in your mind – I stumble back to my back. Lying down I think again; another hour? Can’t be, I should have been up for 90 minutes already and I’m due back into my bed in an hour. What’s happening here?
“Well, err, I thought, if I let you sleep for a little while longer, I don’t have to come out of bed for a second time anymore”.
Wrong. Now that I’m awake I take the opportunity to gybe the boat and crawl back into my bunk. And since it's imperative to kill any acts of mutiny at its first signs my little initiator finds herself sitting outside from 11 pm till 6 am, struggling to keep her eyes open. And I have to admit that I don’t sleep that well anymore because my body is so used to the watch scheme that it finds it hard to adjust.
All in all, not a very smart thing to do. After a long day sleep, Natascha sticks to her wish to change the system so we decide to turn things around for the last night. I would be surprised if she manages to stay awake the first watch till 11 pm, since even being a night-person, I find it hard enough as it is. Well, we’ll see how it works out.
[<< Stefan]
[Natascha >>]
Who cares about a little mutiny to stir things up...? Tonight will learn if reversing the scheme is indeed as nice as I expect it to be. Meanwhile we covered 140 miles, leaving us 160 more miles to go.
Day 203, Friday 18 February 2005
03° 50.0' S 32° 24.6' W
Arrival Fernando de Noronha
Land ahead!!! After 14 days, 1,800 miles, over 100 games, 40 motoring hours, 20 Happy Hours, 15 books, 1 torn spinnaker and 0 fish caught, we arrived on Fernando de Noronha.
[<< Natascha]
[Stefan >>]
The wind keeps blowing during the night and at first daylight we enter the bay of Fernando de Noronha. To our astonishment we see at least 40 sailing yachts and even a huge cruising ship. And we expected Fernando to be as idyllic as Cocos Keeling. As soon as it gets lighter we notice that most of the yachts are French, joining some kind of regatta.
Tikki informs us that the charges to anchor in this bay are US$ 40 a day. That's outrageous! Well, often the "ignorance is a bless attitude" works quite satisfactory so we start doing nothing at all. If they don't clear you in anyway you don't run the risk of illegally entering a country which would be a more serious offence than just forgetting to pay your fees.
We are desperately in need for a grocery store and an internet café so we jump into a taxi, which is a purple beach buggy. Vila dos Remédios is a well preserved little town. Along the brick-paved main street you find tiny shops and eating places and a few ruins. Cows and chickens cross the street. We can't find a grocery store but we do manage to find an internet PC in one of the eating places. We are glad we still have some US$ because the single bank on the island doesn't accept foreign bank or credit cards. They won't exchange money either but fortunately at the local dive shop we are able to exchange some US$ into local currency.
Noronha is supposed to be excellent for diving. But to our disappointment the local dive shop informs us that we are not allowed to dive on our own since it's a marine reserve. We should go with a guide for 70 Euros per person a day! My goodness, if we would obey all the rules of this island we would be broke in no time. Obviously we want to test this first before we start spending any money. Let's see if they pull us out of the water once we are there.
So we stuff all our equipment in the dinghy and there we go, the first test for our new rubber duck and outboard engine. Those of you who know me well know that speed is a crucial criterion for a car and in absence of a car this now counts for the dinghy. And fast he is! Even with the full diving gear we are flying. What a great new toy!
After we anchor the dinghy we put on our gear quickly, keeping an eye on diving boats who might want to stop our illegal action. Everything seems safe and we jump into the water. The seaweed that waves up and down over the bottom due to the swell makes a special sight. From his hiding-place in a dark cavern a huge lobster gazes at us. Wow, that would make a feast tonight! We decide to leave it there though, since lobster are important elements in a reefs' food chain.
Climbing in the dinghy afterwards we see a diving boat approaching us. Somebody is taking pictures of us. The dive master calls us saying that it's not allowed to dive independently in this area since it's a protected marine park. What a surprise! "Oh, we didn't know that, sorry" Natascha says, putting up her most innocent smile - you know what blond girls can be like.
Two glasses of wine over dinner is enough to fall asleep straight away. At 2 am I wake up in the cockpit and slightly disoriented I stumble to my bunk to get some proper sleep.
[<< Stefan]
Day 204, Saturday 19 February 2005
03° 50.0' S 32° 24.6' W
Fernando de Noronha
[Natascha >>]
Fernando de Noronha is the only inhabited island of an archipelago that comprises 21 volcanic islands and rocks. Like St. Helena measuring 6 by 2 miles and housing 1,500 inhabitants it’s again a tiny island. From the anchorage you have a splendid view on the most remarkable rock, Pico, which has the shape of a giant finger that towers 2 meters up.
[<< Natascha]
[Stefan >>]
We are looking for ways to avoid the taxi fare on our second visit to the village. The options are down to a 45 minutes walk in the heat or a cool 5 minutes dinghy ride. Only catch is the absence of a breakwater which will add to the beach landing’s entertainment factor, not to speak of departing. Knowing that a large group professional wave surfers is currently visiting the island makes you wonder why we are even ambitious – in other words stupid enough to try.
The first beach looks indeed pretty serious with very fast 2 meter breaking waves. The small kids playing in the shore break at the second beach makes it appear more friendly – unless these kids have the same sense of adventure as I used to have. Ah well, no guts no glory, off we go. We approach the beach gently on the back of a wave giving me plenty of time to pull the engine up before the next breaker comes in. Natascha is a bit unfortunate when she jumps out too early leaving her with salty pants for the rest of the day.
When we return after lunch it starts sinking in that the way out is going to be a bit rougher. Natascha looks with pity at the surfers when they get swallowed up by a wave. “Imagine being in such waves.” - “Yeah, imagine being in such waves with a dinghy to take care of.”
Timing is going to be crucial. It takes some time to figure out the wave pattern. Each phase carries 6 to 7 large waves, followed by 2 to 3 small ones before the big boys roll in again, which gives us a pretty small window to get through.
OK, there we go. Once in there is no way back. The engine comes to life at first try and we jump in heading for the first wave, which is only a small one, no problem. The second, slightly bigger one stops us completely and throws in some water - nothing the self drains can’t handle though. And then the third. Shit this is a big one! Now the 15 hp better shows what it’s worth. We race up at full power and just before we hit it, I let go of the throttle to prevent it from flipping backwards. We both bring our weight forward and hope for the best. The wave pushes us out 60 degrees and manages to fill the boat in one hit, leaving us completely soaked. We smash down on the water hard signalling that we’re still afloat. Yes we did it! The next one won’t break anymore leaving an excellent opportunity to throw in some more excitement – getting the poor dinghy fully airborne! Screaming of enjoyment we race out of the bay back to the boat. Perhaps it’s safer to take a taxi next time – not as much fun though.
Day 205, Sunday 20 February 2005
03° 50.0' S 32° 24.6' W
Fernando de Noronha
Carefully, I open one eye to check the time. Shit, 7 am! We should have been at Noronha Divers at 7. Assuming that we wouldn’t get away with ignorance a second time, we booked two dives with one of the local dive schools. Although still not pleased with the amount of money we need to spend, we reckoned that it would be utterly stupid to be so stubborn to skip a magnificent dive site for a relatively small fee – especially when comparing this with the costs per dive on a regular dive holiday, including air fares, hotels, etc. Frantically we throw all gear in the dinghy and report at the dive school only 15 minutes too late, which is, of course, no problem at all. In fact we are one of the first. Do I like this southern relaxedness.
The dive master explains us something about the local diving when we motor over to the first spot. Of course, we play the interested, uninformed, inexperienced tourist for 5 minutes until he grins at us: “Actually, I probably don’t need to tell you all this stuff anyway, because you are the guys with the yellow rubber duck aren’t you?” Hmm, it seems that we did make some waves with yesterday’s action because this is not the dive school who told us off the other day.
Despite all of this, local rules apply so we aren’t allowed to join the deep group and have to stick with the beginners because they want to see our dive skills first... There we go again, with more than 100 dives, of which most fully independent, they still feed you this kind of shit. The guys are nice enough though so we don’t want to create a row and join the beginners’ group on a not too spectacular dive that only lasts 35 minutes because two breathers consume their whole tank before we can get to only half tank. The dive master checks our gauges (Natascha 130 bar left and I 110) and apologises, promising us a better second dive.
The other group is a lot more experienced resulting in a whole less frantic movement of arms and legs under water. A nice drift dive leads us along a reef with many swim-throughs and little caves to explore. Many nice fish such as some stingrays, turtles, a school of barracudas and dolphins as dessert when motoring back.
[<< Stefan]
[Natascha >>]
Stefan is fed up with the heat and when he finds Hans from Joy they convince each other of the urgency of cooling off with a beer. No point bringing in my appreciation for companionship on my photo tour, so I end up climbing up to the Nossa Senhora dos Remédios Fort on my own. What a view! From here you can oversee the entire coastline with the harbour, the beaches, the village and the rocks Pico and Two Brothers hills.
Getting thirsty myself I join the guys, though not for a beer, but for one of the many excellent Brazilian fruit juices they serve here. Never mind what their names are, they are all as tasty. We conclude the day at a pizzeria, which is completely packed with locals, always a good indication for quality.
Day 206, Monday 21 February 2005
03° 50.0' S 32° 24.6' W
Leave van Fernando de Noronha
The alarm goes at 5:30 am. A quick cup of coffee to wake up before we convert Espiritu from a floating house into an ocean going vessel. Do the last dishes, stow away loose gear, get the proper charts out, hail the outboard up, lash the dinghy on deck, switch on instruments, anchor up and there we go. Only a short one this time, ‘just’ 370 miles.
Another yacht is following us at approximately 3 miles distance, they probably left 30 minutes after us. It takes a few hours for her to catch up and the closer she comes, the more she looks like Tikki. And yes it’s her indeed. She is a beautiful 42 foot Swan, with a lot less wetted surface than us, and with that also quicker in lighter conditions. In fact she’s beaten us on every passage since we met them in Cape Town. We call them on the VHF and agree to take pictures and exchange them in Fortaleza, our next destination.
Day 207, Tuesday 22 February 2005
03° 56.2' S 34° 40.3' W
Atlantic Ocean
We do 140 miles the first day. Not bad, but we should average 150 to reach Fortaleza with daylight tomorrow. Not much you can do about it, so if we are late we’ll make a plan. Probably anchor off the marina. In this sense it’s good that Tikki is quicker so that we can confirm the waypoints with them.
[<< Natascha]
Day 208, Wednesday 23 February 2005
03° 33.5' S 36° 58.6' W
Aankomt Fortaleza
[Stefan >>]
Reversing the watch system works well for both of us. Being tired enough anyway, I don’t mind going to sleep first and Natascha appreciates being woken up only once a night. At 7 am, we have another 90 miles to go, which will definitely result in a night time approach into Fortaleza, probably around 10 pm.
Fishing hasn’t been successful for weeks, but today is going to be the day. For sure! About 35 miles out of Fortaleza, there is a seawall coming up from 2,000 meters to only 50 meters, which will certainly house plenty of fish. Trolling four lines, we throw everything in we have. And yes, we have a strike. I reel in the line and see a huge Dorado coming to the boat. When I hand the rod over to pick up the gaff, I just look away for two seconds, enough for the lucky bastard to jump off the hook. Damned! They are tasty fish renowned for the fight they tend to put up. That’s why you have to gaff them. If you don’t it will either jump off the hook when hailing it up, or once in the cockpit move around so frantically that you’re likely to find your foot in one of the hooks. The second is a king mackerel, with a meter long a bit smaller than the Dorado, but still more than enough for the two of us. Gaff it, whack it, fillet it, cook it and eat it.
Tikki reached Fortaleza just before dark and confirms that C-Map is accurate and that the anchorage in the harbour is dead easy. Just before the entrance we see a huge ship sitting on top of a sand bank. Looking at the amount of rust, it must have been there for a while, obviously it’s free parking out here. Rather than taking Tikki’s short-cut, we sail around it and approach the harbour entrance from the West. We find a place among the French fleet and drop anchor. A night-cap and of to bed.
At 3 am, we hear a lot of shouting and yelling next to us. Next to us? The nearest boat was behind us, wasn’t it? Shit, we’re dragging. We’re actually quite fortunate that the guy next to us prefers his hammock over his bunk so that he saw us coming before we landed on the next boat, another 100 meters downwind. We start the engine and Natascha goes forward to winch up the anchor. Since the anchor winch is a bit undersized, it needs some manual support so I go forward to help her once we’re clear from the other boats. Hey, did Speedy Gonzales already take up all chain? Well that tells me how much was put, no more than 5 meters, which is not enough, even in 2.5 meter shallow water.
"Natas, how much chain did you feed out?"
"Err..., I thought enough."
"Well, suggest you think three times as long next time around."
We motor up to our spot again and this time I let it rattle for over 20 meters. That should do it. To be sure, I also set the GPS anchor alarm. Still a bit upset we go back to sleep. Somehow, I wake up for a pee every hour...
Day 209, Thursday 24 February 2005
03° 43.0' S 38° 32.0' W
Fortaleza
Looking at the 30 foot we lost on the competition one can conclude that the anchor is still not holding properly. Unless the marina has a slot open for us, we have to apply a second anchor, in our case a Danforth that is especially designed for mud and sand. On moments like these I still regret the loss of our Bruce which would have coped a lot better than the CQR we’re using now.
The marina manager is a bit stressed because of the same group French boats doing the "Ralley d'Isles du Soleil" that we saw earlier in Fernando de Noronha. They are quite demanding and would like to raft up on the walk-on berths with 15 boats next to each other, for which some other boats would have to move. One of these happens to be Dos Tintos, with Steve and Judy who explain in very plain English that they’re unlikely to move to accommodate their ‘request’. Unbelievable how the French can behave themselves. Not a word to any of the other yachties and throwing in outrageous demands - in French of course - wherever they show up. Ah well, what’s new?
I listen empathetically to the man’s sorrows before explaining to him that with our boat dragging I don’t want to leave her alone. Hence, my wife cannot come on land about which she can become as difficult as 15 French boats together. Understandingly he smiles and walks with me to the marina to find an open space. No matter which part of the world you visit, a request supported by reference to a nagging wife always meets sympathy. How could that be...
Time to explore town. The marina is right next to the commercial centre and the cathedral that we already saw beautifully illuminated when we arrived yesterday night. Coming a bit closer, the building’s glory rapidly diminishes. Its state of maintenance resembles more a small chapel on a rural road than the largest Catholic cathedral in a big city. Hardly any statues, not one of the leaded windows is undamaged and the ceiling is covered with brown patches indicating severe concrete decay. The guy at the church entrance collecting for its maintenance has some legwork to do.
Two blocks further we see a handicapped street performer with two apparently numb sticks instead of proper legs combined with an upper-body that would make an anabolic steroid inflated Russian turner look like a schoolboy. He mocks at his own handicap with such disrespect that it is almost embarrassing to look at. He folds his legs in all directions and even uses his foot to crack coconuts. Walking he does on his hands and the single-handed handstand he puts up would humiliate the hell out of that Russian turner again. What helps of course is that he doesn’t have to push up his legs’ weight.
We finish the day with drinks at the marina’s pool where we meet the French yachties again. They sit up as a bunch of trained apes listening to their travel guide about what’s going to happen tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to sail around like that for the world.
The poor marina manager has been too stressed to arrange for shore power so we run the generator to cool the fridge. “Do you also sense that smell coming out of the engine room?” Initially I think of the V-belt but when I open the hatch I clearly smell something burning. When also the electrical power supply shuts off, it seems something is wrong with the generator’s alternator that produces the 220 volts AC. It is seawater cooled that is at a temperature of 30 degrees which might have overheated the machine causing it to shut off. So far, the whole thing has proven to be well protected against serious damage done by cooling problems. Let’s keep our fingers crossed it will run properly again when it’s cooled off tomorrow morning.
Day 210, Friday 25 February 2005
03° 43.0' S 38° 32.0' W
Fortaleza
So our big friend failed again and this time it might be more serious. Hans from Joy has worked his entire life as a ships technician and confirms my surmise that the alternator is burnt out.
I better give Alan from HFL a call to discuss my options. His advise doesn't cheer me up at all. According to him we need a new stator and rotor, costing approximately 500 Pounds. Shipping costs are another 500 Pounds. Labour not included of course. We could also buy an entire new electrical system for 1,600 Pounds. In this case labour costs will be less since installation will be easier. In both cases we would need to lift the generator from the engine room which can only be done via the wooden cockpit floor, which means a risk of damaging the wood. Aaaarch! What a disappointment! This is going to be a big and expensive job. Will this ever stop? This reminds me of the meaning of "BOAT": Bring On Another Thousand.
We decide to go into town, trying to find comfort in a couple of cocktails while going through the options: Ask somebody over to do a proper diagnose first (which most likely means lifting the generator from the engine room), order the stator and rotor from HFL and have them sent to Trinidad, wait until Trinidad or simply doing nothing and mentally throw the generator overboard. That last option sounds actually quite appealing, though it will create a power issue. Better sleep on that one for one more night.
We indulge ourselves with dinner at "Lautrec", one of Fortaleza's best restaurants. Compared to the price of fixing the generator, going out for dinner is peanuts, so why not spending it on something we really enjoy? This #*^*@!! generator won't stop us from reaching our goal, having a wonderful year.
[<< Stefan]
Day 211, Saturday 26 February 2005
03° 43.0' S 38° 32.0' W
Fortaleza
[Espiritu >>]
It’s true that I play some games with these two every once and a while, and normally they take it quite well, but it seems the generator trick was a bit over the top. They actually tried to sink me! For over three hours they had me filling up with water without anybody paying attention. The electronic bilge pump was doing its best but couldn’t prevent me from getting wet feet. Well sorry guys, I won’t do it again.
[<< Espiritu]
[Stefan >>]
We obviously didn’t flood the boat on purpose, it was actually quite a stupid action. Now, what happened?
When we scrubbed the deck, I went over to pick up the car we rented to explore the country while Natascha did the last boat jobs – amongst others fill the water tank. When I returned, still thinking about a way out of the generator problem, she casually asked me if I would be so kind to take the hose out of the tank so that we could lock up and leave. Yeah sure, will do it in a minute.
After two hours in the car, the subject comes to our fresh water usage and the convenience of the availability of fresh water for the rest of the trip. “By the way, did you take the hose out?” “Shit, no. And you didn’t check either?” “No, you said you would do it.” Oh my, this could be ugly. The water tank does have an overflow which drains in the galley. It’s beyond me why it isn’t designed to drain in the sink in the first place, but that’s all irrelevant now.
In true B-film style, I swing the car around and floor it to get back to the boat. Maintaining speeds on a with potholes scattered road that are well beyond the designers’ imagination when putting the little family car together. Would we have had an onboard camera, you would now have been up for a thrilling hour with some pretty sickening footage. Natascha even refrains from her usual objections against my driving knowing that winning seconds does justify an uncomfortable ride. Do keep her on the road though and keep an eye on over active traffic police officers, who might take some offence against our driving. Both kind of incidents will surely have devastating effects to our goal of reaching the boat quickly.
Meanwhile, Natascha’s efforts to contact the marina are no avail. First, we are out of GSM reach, then the number is incorrect and when we finally figure out what the Portuguese recorded voice is trying to tell us, the receptionist turns out to be utterly useless. When Natascha explains the situation and asks to be transferred to the marina manager, she is put through to three different persons, all asking silly questions as her name and whether she speaks any Portuguese or Spanish or not, she is finally put on hold for 15 minutes. Mind you, all using our rather expensive Dutch mobile phone. Forget it, this is going nowhere.
With that, we are really on our own. We reach the highway with a theoretical speed limit of 80, which is however easily doubled by our brave Corsa; not without screaming out loud though. Thanks to the relatively light traffic and my courier skills picked up at my student’s job, we reach the marina within an hour. By that time the tap has been running for over three hours and we can only think of the worst as for the consequences. No time to grab the camera, so sorry guys, no pictures to grin to enhance the entertainment factor.
To my terror I see poor Espiritu sitting 4 inches deeper in the water than when we left her. This is indeed bad. First, take that bloody hose out and when I dash inside, the floor boards are well afloat. I do note that the lowest piece of equipment, the battery charger is still working, hence, the damage might be minor. It turns out, we shouldn’t have been much later because it only had one more inch to go before flooding the electrical connections and another three inches before both fridge compressors would have been submersed.
The regular electrical bilge pump is still working although the wire junctions are completely under water – thank you neoprene isolation paint. I switch on the shower discharge pump and take the 2,000 gallons emergency pump that has a long hose so that you can place it wherever necessary. With that we have 4,000 gallons per hour of pumping capacity at work, relieving Espiritu from her involuntary water ballast. Thank god the lockers with the boxed wine and the dive compressor stayed dry. Most supplies in the other lockers are stored in zip-lock bags or plastic containers anyway which resulted in only minor damage.
All in all, we have been really lucky with the outcome and it emphasises the importance of always paying attention, even when your are docked ‘safely’ in the marina.
[<< Stefan]
[Natascha >>]
Still shaking we step in the car to make something of the rest of the day. This could have ended so much worse. Too bad of the planned day in the mountains, that will have to wait till tomorrow. For the time being we decide we need a couple of drinks at the beach. We head out to Futuro Beach, just out of town and settle ourselves at the trendy terrace of Croco Beach. I enjoy the view and the spectacular white beach while Stefan has more eye for the Brazilian beauties with large bosoms crammed in minuscule bikinis.
Day 212, Sunday 27 February 2005
03° 43.0' S 38° 32.0' W
Fortaleza
Convinced that everything is ok now, we start our trip to the mountains for the second time. There's a lot activity alongside the road: Many people, playing kids, fruit stalls, markets, donkeys, goats and other animals. It all looks relaxed and peaceful. We are astonished at the enormous number of borrachario's (tyre shops) and farmacia's (pharmacies). It's Sunday and all shops are closed except for the farmacia's. Apparently they fulfil an important necessity of life.
Via the little town Maranguape we arrive in the sleepy village Guaramiranga, in the area Maciço de Baturité. The church built on a hill looks quite scenic. The cemetery is typical for Brazil; lots of chapels and other edifices. They are even supplied with electricity. The view from Pico Alto, the highest point in this area, is nice although it's a pity that it starts raining at the very moment we step out of the car. Most likely it will be more spectacular on a sunny day.
We finish the day at the beach and after a swim we order a huge fresh fruit platter. The guy in the beach hut next to us does Henna tattoos and just for fun I tell Stefan that a tattoo would look good on his heavenly body. When I return from the restroom Stefan is gone. Oh no, he's sitting in the hut and the guy is already halfway painting a piece of wire around his upper arm!!! I should be more careful with these kind of jokes, the next time he might have his ... pierced!
Day 213, Monday 28 February 2005
03° 43.0' S 38° 32.0' W
Fortaleza
Last day before departure meaning replenishing our food supplies, filling the diesel- and water tank (don't forget to close the tap in time though...) and going to the internet café. We bought five trolley loads of food and drinks and half the supermarket staff was helping us at the cash point. Very conveniently everything got delivered to the boat and it was a hell of a job to stow away all items. We stocked up for at least 4 months since groceries are quite cheap here compared to the Carib.
Next destination will be Iles du Salut (Devils Islands), which is a 1,000 miles sail. The Islands are French and part of French Guyana and were used as a prison for many years. (Have you watched the movie Papillon?) Would we have more time we certainly would have stayed longer in Brazil, it's such an enormous country and there's so much to see. Maybe next time.
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