Panama to Pacific............... Galapagos and beyond!

Well here we are again, another one of those rosy stories. We are currently anchored in Portobello, a nice ----hole on  the Caribbean side east of the canal. It wouldn’t be too bad if there was a bar or nice restaurant to go to! Hold on, let me start at the beginning………

We had a glorious time in the San Blas, plenty of lobster, champagne & white wine, but it was great to hit civilisation again and buy a loaf of bread. Portobello didn’t look the nicest but it did have a bus service every half hour so we kept it in mind and continued on to Shelter Bay Marina. 

French picnic on the beach in Coco Banderos Cays, San Blas

Shelter Bay was like a formula 1 pit stop, lots of work done, spares delivered, new & old friends met, and we were on our way again much to the surprise of the other cruisers. It seems most people in the marina had been there more in the months rather than days, they couldn’t believe the work we got done and were out again, including lifting the boat out of the water, all within a 7 day window.

No stainless work could be done in Shelter Bay but they advised it could be done around Portobello. We dropped anchor in Portobello putting all of our 60m of chain out only to have the motor melt down, it seems it couldn’t handle the rusty chain through the gipsy! More chain now on order, along with a new motor! Within 2 days, before we could really get a handle on the what and where’s of Portobello it started raining, and rain, and rain…..it didn’t stop for over 2 whole weeks! At the start it was quite a novelty, but by the end the moisture was getting everywhere. Marion spent her time wiping down a new section of the boat to get the mould off, while I rested.

Portobello Bay

Yep, rested! It appears that the formula 1 pit stop, and trying to pull the anchor in by hand, took its toll and my blood pressure was creeping up. After a few visits to specialists in Panama City, a 6 hour round trip by various buses, I was given a couple of boxes of pills and the all clear.

Portobello bus services

So, here we were well into the second week of dark, gloomy, wet weather. All the timber was starting to absorb the moisture making doors and floorboards stick. It was getting quite depressing, not to mention we could not get on with getting the stainless work done. To break the monotony of it all we would go shopping, a 4 hour round trip if we went into Colon, or a 3 hour round trip to Sabanitas at the highway junction (a bit of a rough place where we were told to make sure were left before 5pm).

The rains abated, and we were offered ‘linehandler’ positions on an Amel going through the canal. We took the offer up to get off Zenna for a bit of a holiday, and see how it all works going through the canal. It was a great trip aboard Luna Blu, and our hosts Paul and Lillian were fantastic. We returned to Zenna after one night away however, and back to the grind.

The rains stopped, the sun shone, and the work started. Things were looking up, so much so Marion decided to get her hair done, in Sabanitas!. Whilst working away on the stainless I saw our dinghy coming back to the boat, but not sure who was in it. When it got close I saw it was Marion, but she was not saying much, and definitely not happy. It appears her Spanish was not that good, and the hairdresser (hmmm,) was use to the locals only, not fine Scottish hair! Apparently, this was the result of the second go, after the hairdresser slapped on liquid (hair colour) into Marion’s hair turning it black transforming her into an eastern European! Okay, now its not funny…..i have never seen Marion in this mood before. Out came the internet and the list compiled of how to rectify the problem. Flying to Miami and contacting the British Embassy made it onto this list! Stop laughing, it really wasn’t funny! A couple of days went by, and, well, you know, it can grow on you!

Marion's local hair do!

More parts arriving soon…….and back to Shelter Bay, but not before a deal was struck with another cruiser. He could have my anchor chain, but he had to give me my anchor back. This meant I didn’t have to pull in the barnacle encrusted chain to lift the anchor, Ray from SY Elsa gave me back my anchor and off we went.

More work back and spares back on at Shelter Bay marina. Christmas was taken in with a great breky on the boat followed by the spit pig stuffed with a couple of turkeys, then followed by pool games. The greasy watermelon polo turned into a bit of a scramble.

 

New Year saw Ian and Kirsty join us for the celebration, then off to do the canal transit on the 3^rd of Jan.

Christmas breky



Ian and Kirsty enjoying a local bus to Portobello?

A pleasant transit was had, with only the pilot boat gathering the advisor on the Pacific side coming along side and pushing one of stainless stanchions, now slightly bent. Pacific side………..yahooooo! This was it! Now the game was on. We had a brief look at Las Perlas before seeing our guests off. Contradora was great with warm water, jumping rays, and plenty of fish but now it was back to provision, and final spare parts to gather in Playita. Playita was exciting as we could go ashore where there were plenty of shops, restaurants, and basic civilisation. After the Caribbean side it was a relief. However, you can’t have the good without the bad…..pilot boats!!!! Screaming past at all hours, and with the canal traffic, we were constantly moving to and fro. It got so bad we went back to Contradora for Marion to do some varnishing while I brushed up on my fishing skills, go the mighty mite! Three weeks later and back to Playita to collect our orders, and it seems Marion had found some crew, Matt.

Entering the canal

 

Hello Pacific!

 

Now Canadian Matt was a great guy to have on board, but just before we were to clear out of Panama and head to Galapagos and beyond we found out Matt’s passport was going to be out of date. So off Matt went to apply for a renewal. No point us hanging around Playita so…..yep, back to Contradora to set the boat up for the crossing and get Matt familiar with it. Our last night ashore saw Matt staying in the pool bar with the locals and a group of gay guys from Chicago. We didn’t see Matt till the morning, but he did say he enjoyed himself even if he couldn’t remember what happened. The scratches over his body provided some indication of interesting scenarios however!!

First crew, first catch, Matt

Back to Playita to pick up Matt’s passport saw the Captain, Mark, come down with a leg infection requiring several nights in a hotel to combat the fevers, sweats, and chills with antibiotics. Matt looked after Zenna and continued preparations for departure though had some bad news from home resulted in him informing us he could not make the trip to French Polynesia……back to square one for finding crew!

Now, it had been almost a month with Matt on the boat so we had to re-provision the basics along with picking up the fresh and frozen food, with or without crew! We had resigned ourselves that we would not find anymore crew, particularly as good as Matt, in such a short space of time but the gods were looking after us and no sooner had Matt left the boat on the Friday than we were talking to a nice French guy, Florent, as a prospect. A few discussions and visits to the boat over the weekend, bond monies paid, and we all thought Florent would be a good fit. So, pick up last of provisions again, and ……….yep, off to Contradora again!

Ceviche on the beach, Contadora

This is it! We are now waiting on weather, of which there is none, and then we are off! It was really really hard to get away from Panama, so many false starts, and we even had to return on our way down here to pick up Marion’s bicycle padlocked to the dock that we forgot about!

That’s it folks, 6 months in Panama and plenty of stories to tell. Can’t wait for the Galapagos, and beyond.

The sounds of Santa Marta - colombia

You hear Santa Marta long before you see it.  Rounding the final major headland on the Colombian coast before the approach to Santa Marta, the pounding bass of a disco became audible.  A worrying resemblance to the Karaoke bar we had left behind in Bonaire that kept us awake at night.  It was around 10pm and in the two hours it took to reach the marina the disco grew to a full on festival.  We could see a huge stage on what looked like the beach with the Colombian Fat Boy (Muchacho Gordo) in full swing.  As we edged onto the pontoon and were met by the marina marinaros, we were handed wrist bands in case we needed to use the bathrooms – the concert was actually in the marina.   We were told that Paris was due to appear any moment - we had heard she was starting a new DJ career.  Turns out there is a Colombian Paris as well. 

The festival was a bit of a damp squib.  Despite the volume only 60 people turned up.  The marina was trying to increase revenue by using the site for non-boating events.  During our time there, there was a car show,  a Police Benefit concert which started with ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ for some reason, a Ragaton concert which was so loud it apparently shook the rivets out of some of the steel boats and numerous weddings including one where the marquee over the guests literally blew away.  More about the wind later.  Staying at the marina for 3 months was similar to having a flat overlooking Earls Court. 

As well as the noise, the other distinctive feature was the wind.  Santa Marta is at the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountain range and some nights the wind would come shrieking down.  Being moored alongside meant having all our fenders  out on one side to spread the load as we were pinioned to the pontoon.  Sometimes you could feel the boat being lifted up as well as shifted sideways as gusts of up to 45kts hit.  We got very good in the end at predicting when it would be a gusty night and made sure we had our canopy down in good time.   However, only after a couple of occasions wrestling the canopy down in our underwear at 11pm at night.

Local Pizza Brand

 

Santa Marta is a wonderful mixture of old town – dating from the 1600s when the Spanish landed - to sprawling urban mass which is a mix of shacks, neatish suburbs and high rises.  The old town has several districts packed with sophisticated bars and restaurants – It’s like being in the Med crossed with Cuba.  In fact when we first arrived we kept saying, ‘this is what we thought Cuba would be like’.  Santa Marta is in the heart of the region where Colombians and apparently all Latin Americans come to holiday and does have an air of Brighton with its slightly seedy hotels along the waterfront.
 

Mark's idea of heaven

There is a ferocious energy in the place.  Everyone is always on the move.  Where ever you go there are street vendors selling everything from cups of coffee from flasks, to sweet biscuits which are a bit like fudge, to guys with carts selling fruit, or lime juice from huge flagons.  At any one time there must be 10,000 people out selling something – they never hassle you, they are just there working to make a buck.  Colombia as a country is on a fast track to developed nation status and seems to be learning from mistakes made elsewhere.  Hardly anyone smokes (they are only available from locked cabinets) and alcohol consumption is minimal (and also very expensive).  We probably upped the alcohol consumed per head during our stay.

Food provenance

 

They also seem to finally have the FARC on the run.  There was mention of problems outside the cities and towns, but they have a huge police/military presence in some of the remote areas.  On a trip to Minca in the hills about 1 hour from Santa Marta, the police virtually doubled the local population.  There were, however, signs of people with drug habits living on the streets and a nearby village along the coast was a magnet for them and the backpacker crowd that flowed in and out of the area. 

Just before we left Curacao, we saw a customs boat coming into the lagoon towing a couple of jet skis which we assumed had been washed out to sea/stolen.  Later when we went ashore, the area around the fisherman’s dock was sealed off and a couple of local lads were sitting hand cuffed on the ground looking very dejected.  We discovered later that there were three of them on jet skis loaded with 182kgs of cocaine.  A couple we met were on the dock when the first jet ski entered the cove pursued by the customs boat at full power (they have 3 300hp engines).  The Miami Vice moment was followed by shots being fired and the girl who was from Equador dragged her English husband to the ground to reduce the chance of them being shot.  Equadorians obviously have more experience in this area than your average Brit.  It was all a timely reminder that the drug trade is alive and kicking along the coast of the Southern Caribbean.

Check out the black bags being offloaded

 

However, Colombia has been shaking off it’s drug industry with some success.  To the point that they now have a 63 part mini-series on the life of their one time drug lord Escobar.  We know all this as apart from the concerts, etc the marina acts as a film set for the soap operas the Colombians are addicted to.  One week we had men in black military uniforms on the dock running up and down with weapons as boats came in and out with various types of casualties followed by men in white coats from the forensic team.  All very diverting as we watched from the boat.  The only inconvience was not being able to get passed when the cameras were rolling.  Fortunately the filming didn’t take place a week earlier when a few of us were suffering from the Colombian cramps and any trip to the loos had to be made in the shortest time possible – film ‘action’ or not.

Big hat - must be the director

 

A slightly sweeter noise has been Mark’s new guitar.  Bought for his birthday and now regularly played.  He has an interesting repertoire.  A composition to accompany a dash to the loo with Colombian cramps, a medley of notes he calls ‘Welcome to the Zenna lounge’ and his only song to date – I’ve been working on the railroad’.  I can’t wait until he learns something else as well.

I've been working on the railroad ...

 

Apart from Santa Marta, we also managed a trip to Cartagena where we stayed at a guest house recommended by a couple we met whilst we were having lunch for Mark’s b-day.  They were from Bogota and were in Santa Marta making the final preparations for their wedding in a couple of weeks time – All very reminiscent of Symi.  To top it off she was Colombian/Greek and they were heading to Greece for a second ceremony later in the year.  They invited us for drinks the evening before the wedding which was a lovely insight into a Colombian wedding and families.  

Anyway back to Cartagena.  The guest house was run by Lucie whose late father was English.  Her mother was suffering from dementia but still lived at home.  Mark took to watching TV in one of the sitting rooms her husband used to use and she got it in her mind that Mark was her husband.  Insisting on kisses and getting very upset when she saw him with me!  But apart from that Cartagena was an interesting mix of restored Spanish/Latin architecture, good eating, more Colombian weddings and relatively little noise.

 

The cacophony that is Santa Marta was particularly acute in the market place which extends over 5-6 blocks.  Everything is sold there from fruit to machine parts.  On our first visit we were both a bit wired clutching our bags to us having removed all the valuables.  But after a while I would scoot off on my bike to get things on my own.  We always lock up our bikes when we shop, but we were still worried whether they would be ok in Santa Marta.  The locals are so adept at making and stripping things down, we weren’t sure if there would be anything left on the bikes when we returned.  But the only real problem we had was dealing with the constant questions about the Bromptons wherever we went. 

spare parts for your kitchen equipment

 

The market appears an impenetrable maze until you realise that there are sections for fruit and veg, for hardware, for bikes, for paint etc.  In fact we found out how to get tools sharpened, spokes on the bikes mended, where to by bearings for the windlass(having just had some sent out from the UK for £100), found a workshop which could strip down the rusted windlass so the bearing could be inserted as well as the usual food shopping. 

 

So we were very upset to hear that a couple of weeks ago someone went into the supermarket in the centre of the market and threw a grenade killing 2 people and seriously injuring around 10 others.  A resurgence of FARC factions fighting one another?  – it’s just so chilling.  So we are glad to be away but we loved being in Santa Marta.  We even talked to quite a few people who have decided to move there from Europe/US and wondered if we might ever think about going there to live one day – Noise or no noise.

Captain's Corner - 'A few repairs and ongoing maintenance' Colombia

This is it! The last piece of the Caribbean before we go through the Panama Canal, and get squeezed out into the Pacific…….Australia bound! The year to date has been extremely different to our past cruising lifestyle, in fact we have only sailed, or motored, about 8 days.

You've seen this before.....Forest Gump??

....and the skaters, Californication??

We started with a stopover in LA, or Santa Monica to be exact. Remember Californication, yep that’s the one. Riding bicycles down the beach to Venice, cycling around the canals, watching the skaters. It was just like you see on tv. A couple of days saw us take in New Years Eve, some great lobster and truffle sauce ravioli (twice), and the obligatory LA sightseeing tour! All whilst being jet lagged but we did have a great apartment across from the beach with a huge bed, bathroom and a little kitchen – perfect.

Willemstad, Curacao, the rest is so so!

Pablo and Picasso - kept the spirits up!

Our arrival in Curacao was a step back into reality. The work that was scheduled to be done to Zenna upon our return to Curacao was carried out by the boatyard, Curacao Marine, while we were in Australia, against our instruction. This had led to considerable damage to Zenna thereby requiring our schedule of work, and costs, to be revised. No point in crying over it, we found a great place to stay for a couple of months, The Ritz, at a good rate until we could move onto the boat. We then adopted a 5 day work week with occasional overtime, and knuckled into it. Our visas, which could not be extended at the time, were valid for only 3 months so our time to get repairs done and the boat in the water was limited, not assisted by the reluctance of Curacao Marine to make good the damage or compensation for Zenna despite our numerous letters and discussions. The matter is still not resolved. Unfortunately the whole ordeal tainted our view of Curacao, though we did manage to meet a couple of nice people which made the time, a week short of 3 months, bearable. This was also helped by ‘Pablo and Picasso’ (who painted Zenna) providing some calm amongst the storm at Curacao Marine.

Marion's birthday lunch at 'It Rains Fishes', Bonaire

Bonaire sunset.

After our troubled time in Curacao, and an overnight stop on a deserted island Klein Curacao it was great to pick up a mooring in Bonaire. We had heard the diving was good so we bought some ex-rental gear and dusted off our old face masks. It was great and for nearly 3 months we dived every other day or so during the week for a bit of exercise, sometimes straight off the back of the boat. We soon realised we were getting enough exercise by just doing the shopping which saw our trusty Brompton cycles come into action once again. Lots of good, if not excellent, supermarkets and restaurants saw us relax into this quiet little island. A few fantastic sunsets and meeting up with new friends led to some excellent sundowners.

Mark getting a few last minute pointers!

Bonaire yacht club dock.

 

One of our Sunday lunches saw us ride over to the windward side of the island as we had heard their burger specials and atmosphere was not to be missed. We were not disappointed, not so much about the burgers, but the location was amazing. A reef about a quarter of a mile off the shore meant the wind was constant with the lagoon inside the reef having smooth water being no more than 3 foot deep! Excellent conditions for windsurfing, with rows and rows of windsurfers for rent by the burger place. We vowed to return and windsurf, which i did twice, riding our trusty Bromptons to get there. The pink flamingos along the way made the one and half hour cycle each way all the more worth it. It was sad to leave Bonaire, but after a few repairs and ongoing maintenance, we knew it was time to move on.

Our short stop back in Curacao to pick up the new outboard for ‘Abi’ (a new AB Inflatable dinghy) was highlighted by a real live Miami Vice episode. The coast guard in numerous vessels had chased, fired upon, and caught all but one of the four jet ski lads on the run with 182kg of cocaine in large plastic wrapped bricks stashed inside. Front page stuff. It was quite surreal being that close to the action! It just wraps up the type of island Curacao is however, so, time to pick up the new outboard and ‘get outta ere’ I say.

Our crossing from Curacao to Colombia was our first real sail for some time. Winds were at times favourable though became quite blustery around the infamous Cabo de Vela. Oh, and that’s right, this is where there is a 6m deep patch right in the middle of the sea…yeah, we found it and went straight over it with Marion poking her head up from the nav table saying, “I wondered why the sea was a bit rough there”. We planned to go around it with a 2m swell and our 2m draft!..... We had a pod of dolphins follow us for a couple of hours one morning performing great air-o-batics, excellent!

Aerobatic dolphins, always a good show!

Marion and I have agreed a piece of our hearts will be left in Santa Marta, Colombia. We heard the music coming from Santa Marta when we were 5 miles out to sea, before we saw the light from the lighthouse for Santa Marta at 2 miles! We docked gently, with the assistance and welcome by the marina staff at midnight. As our luck would have it the marina had an event on, a new up and coming DJ ‘Paris’. This suited us fine as after a crossing a few beers, snacks and rums is always obligatory so the dancing on the back deck lasted till we dropped shortly after. This was a top class marina being right in the middle of the old town. With again good supermarkets, fantastic restaurants and great people we explored all Santa Marta and its surroundings had to offer. We had a special rate at the marina so without a chandlery nearby we experienced some of the most affordable living we have done on Zenna! We took a long weekend holiday and caught a bus to Cartegena for some time off from, “few repairs and ongoing maintenance”. It was all very touristy in Cartagena but nice to get off the boat and out of the marina for a change. We managed to get berthed next to some Aussies, Paul and Kate on Iolea, and Brits, Andy and Sue on Spruce, which ensured we never had a dull moment in the marina. Thanks Sue for all your help with the guitar!

Santa Marta marina, Sierra Nevada in the background.

Not sure what he thought of this! 

We managed a further 10 days out of the marina anchoring in the nearby Tayrona National Park which saw the boat whipped around by ferocious winds, though never really pulling on the anchor chain as they were more like mini tornados. We did manage to rip an eyelet on our forward canopy/rain catcher, which has now been hand sewn back on. On our way back to the marina from the park we stopped a couple of nights in the up and coming bohemium Taganga (reminiscent of the Escobar era!). A few rough edges once you got off the waterfront street; we were warned by numerous people to be back on the waterfront by 4.00pm – it wasn’t safe. We took this seriously and were back on the boat by 5pm! (The advice was confirmed the day before we left Santa Marta with a boat being boarded by armed assailants, the captain was bashed requiring 18 stitches to his head, and the boat ransacked). There is a strong police presence in Santa Marta with one on every street with AK47’s and after our departing chat with the marina manager I believe Taganga will rid itself of these undesirables. A ‘few more repairs and ongoing maintenance’ were completed before our day out to Cascada de Valencia to cool down. A great series of cascades down a hill in the jungle was fantastic. If you didn’t like the pool you were in, or there were people around, walk up to the next one, brilliant. Our visas were running out and although we were able to extend we knew we had to keep going or we would miss our slot through the canal. We had a quick look at our landfall south of the San Blas in Panama and prepared to stock up the boat for provisions for our time there. It was time to head off, though not without saying a few teary goodbyes.

The crossing from Santa Marta to Panama provided some of the most interesting sailing we have done to date. There was little wind so it was motor all the way with the sail up to help steady the boat, and provide a bit more speed. It all started when we saw dark clouds either side in front of us on our first evening. Lightening began so no point in hanging around, we upped the revs and got old Zenna going, straight through the gap. As we got to the other side the lightening could be seen coming down and spider webbing under the clouds, which were now going in our direction. Keep the revs up and get some distance between us I said. A few minutes later we encountered counter currents causing unusual wave and swell motions, which hampered our speed but we managed to stay in front of the formation to calm our nerves. You hear about it but never really know what it is like until you are out on a flat sea with serious lightening and thunder clapping going on…….and you are sitting at the bottom of a lightening pole, being the mast (not very smart I would say!).

A sharp eye was kept on this storm during the first night watches. I managed to get an ear infection while cleaning the hull before our departure so Marion took the first watch. My watch saw a dark sky but the storms abated. About 3 hours into my watch, well, my eyes were mostly open, I saw the largest lightening strike I have ever seen. You know those series of posters, ‘Natures Wonders’ or something, where there is a yacht at sea with huge billowing clouds above and a huge lightening strike ahead….that was it! Well my eyes widened quickly enough and put the boat 90 degrees to starboard. Exciting yes, but I am not that bloody stupid! I chased around the edge of this storm cell for about 2 hours till Marion finally surfaced. Marion checked the track on the plotter and yelled up, “you are way off course”. I asked if she would like to join me up in the cockpit, she soon understood. We got out of this one but an hour later, just before I was going to get some kip, we got hit with a storm, 30 knots on the nose. We had two reefs in already but no time to put in another, we pulled off the wind a bit and let Zenna take over. Like a mare to the stables! The rain was driving in, I was drenched holding on, Marion was dry below, and Zenna was picking up speed charging through the wind over tide seas at 7 knots. An hour later, with a severe chill causing the onset of a man cold, it abated. We mopped up and settled back down to business. I now had the ear infection, and a cold!

The next night saw me have the first kip again taking over from Marion around 11pm. I was not feeling too well but the storm cells were in the distance and I promised to wake Marion up should the need arise. I really wasn’t well for within the first half hour saw me visit the head to have a rear end cleansing experience followed by a head in bucket job in the cockpit. I still don’t know how Marion slept through it all. So now, ear infection, cold, and food poisoning! All this coupled with the tense pressure of dodging the storm cells meant I was really beginning to enjoy this. Marion awoke around 4am and relieved me quickly, I have never slept so well on passage. I awoke a few hours later to see Panama on the horizon.

National Geographic San Blas.

A quick and uneventful, except for my gingerly stomach, check into Panama near the border of Colombia in the south west of the Caribbean and off we went to anchor in Puerto Perme, 2 hours motor away. Not many cruisers get this far south so it is a real treat to meet the indigenous Kuna Yala people, both for them and us. Not the easiest of bays to get into with us drifting slowly in to navigate the rocky outcrops which could only be seen by the reduced depths on our instruments, we had to reverse a couple of times! The whole ordeal was made worse by the fact there was a Colombian trading boat already anchored inside the sheltered bay, which was no bigger than two football fields! In the morning we could see the rock outcrops and were amazed we had made it without incident. It was Sunday morning and the trading boat was in so all the Kuna from the village were out in their little hand made canoes to barter for what they could get. One of them, Andres came over with his two sons after Marion gave a polite wave. “Great” I said, I haven’t even had breakfast yet and here they are scrambling on the boat! Usually we would be concerned about a boarding like this but violence and criminality is not known by these people, they were just being inquisitive and took Marion’s wave as an offer to join us.

Inquisitive Kuna family.

So, a quarter piece of toast each and a few introductions led to some interesting conversation with the atlas coming out to explain how big an island Australia is, Andres had never seen where or what it is! I went downstairs to get a magazine to show them and before we knew it they were inside the boat…looking everywhere! Now, I am one who is extremely careful not to influence indigenous locals (as the son of Virginia McKenna’s (Born Free) son will confirm after my debate with him about bringing pygmies from the Amazon to the UK to drink pints of beer was not the best way to protect their lifestyle and rainforest!) but it is a very fine line. Just by being there we are changing their culture; the youngsters are seeing what we have and are now curious as to why they don’t have electricity, a bowl to eat out of, or a mattress to sleep on. We have decided to stop entry to our boat by these curious locals, but I can’t say the same for those cruisers following us. It will happen, they will change,…..and it will all be lost forever!

$4US a lb, take your pick!

First Kuna village, tricky bay!

I must stop here, we are on the move again, back into island hopping while dodging coral heads, eating fresh lobsters at US$4/lb, and trying not to influence the locals too much…..and not forgetting the all important ‘few repairs and ongoing maintenance’.

What do you do all day?

When cruisers get together we always amuse ourselves with tales of the most frequently asked question.  Our answers are routinely uniform – customs, immigration, currency, finding shops, shopping,  finding transport for heavy items, loading up the dinghy, getting things on board, finding space to stow it and if you’re lucky a swim before lunch to reduce your skyrocketing temperature.  Then there’s the afternoon...

Shopping bags still going strong - Anne

... and I still have to get in

Some dinghy docks are better

... than others

Trusty bromptons

So I thought I’d actually recount one of our days to give you a flavour of what all that involves.  Take last Friday.
 

I have tried to do some stretching before breakfast since we left the boatyard but not today.  So it was our typical midweek breakfast of muesli and fruit and a cup of tea.  Cooked breakfasts are saved for the weekend and even then we’ve reduced the amount of bacon and eggs we have.  More like beans on toast (Heinz beans becoming a bit of a luxury since we are in the Dutch islands).  Then it’s on with the day’s chores. 

 

There is always a bit of a tussle over who’s getting the wifi stick.  Having internet on the boat makes such a difference that we’ve now accepted it’s worth paying a bit more for it.  Saves trudging around town with sheaves of paper/computers to get things done and never being sure how secure the sites are. 

 

Today I’ve got to order some whipping twine (not as exciting as it sounds..)  The lacing that holds the leather steering wheel cover in place has been coming undone ever since we crossed the Atlantic and I’m only now getting round to replacing it.  I managed to get some beige twine to match the steering wheel and with two needles you have to weave a cross stitch in and out of the leather cover.  There are 5 sections and I’ve managed to do 2 so far and am about to run out of the beige twine.  Of course after searching the local chandlery and various internet sites I discover no one is selling the beige anymore. 

So I end up skyping the manufacturer in the UK (‘All Hail Skype’ it has transformed our lives) where I discover it is still made and I need to get a retailer to send it to me.  The trouble talking to the retailer is that they have a minimum order of 12 rolls and beige it seems is not a big seller.  However, I persuade him I will take 2 and there may be a rush on the other 10 as beige is so hard to find at the moment...  I’m still waiting for confirmation that they have put their order in and how much it will be for them to send it to the Marina in Bonaire near where we are currently moored.  Then the real tension sets in as we anxiously wait for something to arrive knowing we can’t leave until it’s here.  Not so bad at the moment as we plan to spend some time in Bonaire but we are on a 90 day cruisers visa and we have already used up 45 days. 

We had planned to go for a dive this morning but time is ticking away.  Mark is working on the emergency tiller housing which has developed a good rust crust.  So far he has taken it ashore to sand down and paint with ospho which helps to eradicate rust – well as much as you can.   Rob the guy who has helped us out with second hand dive gear has also let him use the garden of the dive shop to paint on the hammerite rust protection paint to avoid paint tins rolling around on deck and the dust that is blown endlessly onto the boat from shore. 

What has to come out of the locker

So Mark can get in to work on the tiller

Meanwhile I finish off masking up the final bit of teak deck to be caulked.  You may remember I did approx 400 meters of caulking last year and this is the last bit to be done around the teak on our forward locker hatch.  Once this is completed I can delete caulking from my to do list.  As it’s been on there since May 2010 I’m pretty excited at getting it done.  The sun is baking down now so I’m wearing my Tilly hat – looks pretty ridiculous but it stops sunstroke.  Pat and Carole a couple we met in the boatyard stop by to see if we want to go diving with them today and we agree after lunch would be good.

Some nice hat harry

The whole island of Bonaire is a marine park and they have successfully cultivated an amazing range of coral, fish and sea life.  We have often talked about getting our own dive gear but were never in the right place at the right time.  In Curacao a fellow cruiser gave us a dive tank which we thought would be good for emergencies, and once we got to Bonaire there are so many dive shops they are happy to sell their old gear.  So now we have our own wet suits, regulators and BCDs all for the price it would have cost us to rent for 3 weeks.  This means we can now jump off the back or head off in the dingy to one of the 60+ dive sites in the bay.

Cool gear

Today we are going to a site called 18 palms which is sheltered from the strongish wind that is blowing.  Once Mark is back from his painting and we’ve had lunch, we load up the dingy and head off on the half hour journey to the south of the bay.  Pat and Carole get there in a quarter of the time with their much faster engine...  We have a bigger one on order but it still hadn’t arrived in Curacao by the end of March when we left (despite being assured it would be there by the end of Feb).  So we putter down with our 3.5hp Tohatsu we call Tommy.

Fish

Fish and Coral

Fish

Fish and Coral

More fish

Screensaver cutie

Spectacular dive with sightings of huge tarpon, a couple of barracuda, a Lionfish and heaps of other reef fish.  We are down for about an hour and by the time we get back to Zenna it’s already 4 o’clock,  We had provisionally said we would meet Pat, Carole and another couple at City Cafe a happy hour bar at 5 o’clock.  But before we do that we have to clean the boat which is our Friday ritual so we have a nice clean boat for the weekend.  The locals are doing lots of roadwork which means everything inside and out gets covered in a fine dust which is constantly blowing off the island.  We’ve worked out by cleaning the boat on a Friday it stays cleaner longer as they don’t work weekends. 

 Plus we still have to finish the caulking.  It was masked this morning but now we need to squeeze the caulk in and then remove the tape.  Mark is questioning whether we should be doing it at all, but I’m determined to get it finished today.  Apart from anything else, if it rains tonight, then the taping will all peel off and I will have wasted the morning.  So we start caulking.  A tube we had open has hardened and is no good.  A second tube I get out is also no good, so I go to get another type that we bought right at the beginning of the project and thankfully it’s still ok – but it is a different type from the one we have been using and is a lot more gooey.  Finally it’s all caulked and sealed and we prepare to remove the tape – but the caulk isn’t curing.  Sh...!  We decide to leave it and hopefully it will have gone off by the morning.

About 3 hours of masking taping

Another 3 hours worth

It’s now 5 thirty, Mark still has to take the dive bottles into be refilled but at least the cleaning and caulking are done.  I jump in the shower whilst he goes ashore.  As I’m getting dried I’m surprised to hear strange voices and people boarding the boat.  Mark has bumped into a couple we keep meeting who have been fascinated by the fact we are cruising and has invited them back for a drink.  Once I cover my modesty, I hand round beers while Mark has his shower.  The couple are from New York.  He is a fireman and she is an occupational therapist and they both love diving which is why they are on Bonaire. 

 

The meet up with Carole, Pat and the others goes out the window as we are invited for a return drink on shore.  There is a local evening market in the town square and we watch some hilarious local dancing by 4 of the most aesthetically challenged girls on the island.  Pantomime dames meet Hattie Jacques – Strictly need not worry.  We also try some fried fish which is delicious although we are alarmed at watching the deep fryer almost burn its way through the plastic table it’s sitting on.

Not the ones we saw

 It’s now 8 o’clock and we know this is when restaurants start to close their kitchens so we head off in search of somewhere good, not too touristy and not too Dutch.  ‘ Appetite’  is very swish and Mark goes for a surprise menu of three courses which the chef chooses for you.  He is allowed to say what he can’t eat which in Mark’s case is anything vegetarian.  I opt for a goat’s cheese starter and veal main.  We are rather surprised when Mark’s dishes arrive and are goat’s cheese and veal...  Differently prepared from mine and less generous servings so I end up eating his and vice verse.

With our late start ashore and more involved meal than normal we are still out at 11pm.  A first since we got to Bonaire about 6 weeks ago.  We are normally in bed by 8 or 9pm or occasionally 7pm.  After we have cooked onboard and washed up there’s not much to do but go to bed and read a book.  We now have LED bedside lights which means we don’t have to worry about running down the batteries.  But tonight we can finally sample the local night life.  As we are moored about ¼ of a mile away from the town centre we endure the karaoke and dance bars until 4am.  Now we actually get to see what goes on.  Tourists and locals all out on the pick up.  All pretty dull really but we throw in some Ceroc moves (makes us look like real old fogies) and down a couple of rum and cokes.

OK so the day I’ve chosen was a bit more action packed than most and certainly involved meeting up with more people than normal.  And it was a Friday which is the night we most often eat ashore.  But otherwise that’s a normal cruising day – particularly all the little frustrating jobs that rarely go smoothly ...  Not a customs house, shop, bank or bus in sight!