What you mean 'we' white man?

Sand monsters! Photo by Marie-Claude Osterrath

Kuna men have told me on three separate occasions that I look like a Kuna woman. Actually, they have tried to tell Matt this, despite the fact that I'm standing right there and that I'm the one that speaks Spanish and even a wee bit of Kuna. The women may own the coconut trees but I get the feeling that the men are still in charge.

Photo by Marie-Claude Osterrath

Photo by Marie-Claude Osterrath

Funny enough, a man in Dominica had told me early last summer that I looked just like a woman of Carib Indian descent that lived on the island. Kunas are said to be the most closely related of all modern people to the Caribs that prevailed in South America before it was 'discovered' by Westerners. Maybe I have some long lost Kuna/Carib ancestors. Or maybe it's just my deep tan and black hair. Either way, I don't mind. If trouble starts I can pull a Tonto on Matt ("What you mean 'we' white man?").

Photo by Marie-Claude Osterrath

We had a beach barbeque on Christmas Eve with Amelie IV, Kazaio, and a new kid boat called Mandala. The kids had a great time digging on the beach, swimming, and watching the big bonfire. Christmas Day also got a "this was the best Christmas ever" from Mark and Conrad. We're clearly getting used to Christmas in warm places.

Cartagena to San Blas

The water in the Cartagena anchorage is extremely icky. That is a nautical term that means gross things float through the dirty water and lots of stuff grows on the boat's bottom. After only ten days, our engines showed their displeasure by running hot (port engine) and stopping altogether (starboard) as we motored out of the anchorage. Our friends on Amelie IV had dark smoke coming out of their exhaust.

 

With what little wind there was coming right on our nose, we motored from Cartagena to the Rosarios, a group a islands that belongs to Colombia. Despite the complaints from our engines, we made it without much incident. Matthew from Amelie IV yelled "Yes!" as he jumped into the relatively clean and clear water and we all felt the same relief at finally being able to swim again. We enjoyed swimming and started the process of cleaning the bottom. Our hull looked like it had the worst case of eczema ever, with the tiny barnacles and reddish algae covering the entire surface. The propellers were completely encrusted with barnacles.

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We spent a few  days near Isla Grande, in the Rosarios, with Amelie IV and Kazaio. The aquarium there is surprisingly good and it was interesting to see the small village on the island. We then completed the overnight passage to the San Blas. The winds were better than forecasted but local weather patterns kicked up a strong current, so that we had 3 knots against us at times. At one point, the wind died a bit and although we were moving through the water (you could see the boat moving over the waves), our instruments showed that we were almost at a standstill. We turned one motor on and motor-sailed for the remainder of the trip but were grateful to have been able to sail while we could. We caught a good-sized black fin tuna and had a few dolphins on our bow.

 

The terrain of the San Blas struck us immediately because of the density of the coconut trees and the mountains. The area, known locally as Kuna Yala, is home to the Kuna natives. They have preserved their culture in a way that most indigenous people have not. We visited Playon Chica with our local guide, Arquim, and visited his family and the local cemetery. Mark and Conrad were amazed by the thatched-roof huts with bamboo walls. He gave us gifts of crab and lobster and sold us molas made by his wife.

 

As we entered Cayos Diablo, we saw a catamaran on the reef and later discovered that it was a cruising boat that we had met in Las Aves. They had come in at night without realizing that the electronic charts are offset and paid for it with their boat. It was a sobering caution against trusting your charts too much and coming into an anchorage here without good light.

 

Arquim from Playon Chica

 
Our visit to Niadup village in  Cayos Diablo was without a guide and allowed us to interact more directly with the villagers. We met the chief, were taken into the home of a local, and witnessed a village-wide celebration of a young girl's "coming of age" (the start of her monthly cycle). Although the villages have been traditional, they can't help but be influenced by tourists. The colorfully adorned women charge a dollar to be photographed and there are Kunas that want to either sell you something or a few that will just ask outright to be given things.

 

As Christmas approaches, we are enjoying the beaches and clear water. We miss our family and friends but are fortunate to be with new friends as we travel and explore.

She wants to lead the Glamorous Life

One of the many sculptures in Cartagena--Fernando Botero

The other day we were shopping for toilet paper because it might be hard to find in the South Pacific. We usually get Scott single-ply tissue because it is safe to flush in our hyper-delicate marine toilets. The store didn't have our normal brand and none of the toilet paper was labeled "safe for RVs" or anything similar. We found one brand that looked like it might fit the bill but couldn't be sure. So I put a piece on my tongue to see if it would dissolve quickly, which it did. So something for you to consider--that I ate toilet paper--the next time you're imagining that boat life is constantly drinking cocktails and watching the sun go down in paradise. There's plenty of that too, but then there are those moments which are pretty far from idyllic..

'Balloons' made of pastel-colored plastic grocery bags for
the Day of The Immaculate Conception

In a similar vein of non-idyllic moments, we recently discovered weevils in our pasta. If you don't know what those are, consider yourself lucky and probably skip reading about them altogether, especially if you're eating today. They exist in the U.S. but are not as common as some other places and they seem to thrive in the tropics. We have been stocking up, so we had a huge supply of pasta. Which was then transformed into a huge supply of weevils. Some of the pasta was okay and has now been encased in airtight weevil-proof plastic (note: Tupperware isn't cheap in Colombia!) but a lot was thrown away. Some cruisers just boil the pasta, critters and all, but we're not quite ready to do that. Pasta is still cheap and plentiful where we are.

 

Leaving Cartagena, we will be making our way west to the San Blas islands of Panama. We're looking forward to clean and clear water. Of course, now that we're ready to move, the wind has decided the disappear.

 



Cartagena, but not for Christmas

When we were in Grenada, various cruisers were planning to be in "Cartagena for Christmas." Besides the obvious alliterative appeal, Cartagena and Christmas go together. In early December, there were lights along the streets of the town center, trees in various plazas, and lights on the buildings. Santa and his elves were at the mall. There was a Christmas parade, complete with fireworks, which was followed by many more fireworks the next night. But, as it turns out, we have decided not to spend Christmas in Cartagena.



 

When we first got to Cartagena, we were a bit dazzled by the tall, white buildings next to the sea, with historic structures poking out. Conrad said it was just like being in New York. Compared to where we had been recently, it was enormous. We loved exploring the vibrant city with its energy and history.

 

 

On one evening at the plaza near La Trinidad, we saw a wedding, with the bride and groom riding away in a horse-drawn carriage. There was a man in a horse suit and woman juggling fire. Kids were playing a pick-up soccer game that Mark joined. A man was passed out drunk next to us while we ate our delicious street food.

Meat sticks and beer. Who's a happy cruiser? Yes you are!

 

Christmas fireworks in the dinghies

But by the end of the first week, we started to get tired of the dirty water where almost no one swims and with the local boats speeding by so close and fast, creating almost constant wakes. We were treated to infrequent but loud air horns at all hours from container ships leaving the nearby loading facility. Coupled with the need to get temporary import and cruising permits if you stay for more than ten days or so (an extra $200), it's time to move on.

 

An artist at work

We're very happy that we didn't miss Cartagena. It's a great city to walk around. The street food is delicious and cheap. We have been enjoying spending time with Amelie IV and Kazaio, another kid boat that we met here. After a play date on Kazaio that included working with clay and eating ice-cream, Mark and Conrad were ready to move aboard.

 

 

South Americans love their music. This Navy ship was sent off with no less than 3 live bands (one on the bow, one on the stern and one on shore). The samba-like music was an interesting contrast to the soldiers standing at attention on deck.

 

Juggling machetes in traffic for money.

Curacao to Cartagena

So a little insight into how boat life is a bit different from the normal 9-5 routine: As we were trying to find a place to anchor in the crowded Curacao anchorage of Spanish Water, we passed a boat where a man was sitting out in the cockpit with his wife. His wife was spoon feeding a seated infant and the couple waved as we motored by. Matt and the husband had a brief, friendly conversation about whether or not you could anchor outside the marked area without being hassled. The woman was completely naked and not at all concerned about us.

When you visit a place as an outsider, you tend to notice things that locals might not. For example, I noticed no dogs in Bonaire. I'm sure there are dogs in Bonaire; I just didn't see any. This is notable because most Caribbean islands are filled, some more than others, with guard dogs, beach dogs, food stand dogs and stray dogs of all varieties. Curacao sports the typical complement of canines. From the boat, we could hear the near constant chorus of strays howling in unison. It was sort of like that Christmas song comprised of dog barks, only slightly less tuneful.

 

As we were looking for things to do in Curacao, we were thinking about taking a hike up a hill to a mesa-like area near Spanish Water. But we were warned that it is private property and that the son of the original owner wanders around with a shotgun and shoots at and threatens people who trespass. Apparently he started this forty-some years as a teenager and is still going strong. So needless to say we didn't hike there.

Because every child needs cake AND enormous solid chocolate letters
to boost their sugar levels

After celebrating Mark's 7th birthday a couple days early, we set off for Aruba to pick up our buddy boat Amelie IV. We had an action packed 5-day sail to Cartagena, with a couple brief stops along the way to get the timing right to cross the dreaded Rio Magdalena river outflow and to anchor in Cartagena during daylight hours. We had 40 knot winds! We had 12-foot waves! We caught fish (we didn't take yet another picture of the 2 mahi-mahi because Nana correctly pointed out that all the photos look pretty much the same, down to the shirt that Matt wears)! We set a new boat speed record (15.5 knots)! We saw pods of acrobatic dolphins! The main sail got back-winded, freaking out the auto-pilot and us! In fact, it's a bit too much action.  It's nice to move to new places, but it will also be nice to put the hook down and relax for a couple of weeks.

 

And finally, in closing, things to be thankful for:  In the midst of our journey to Cartagena, Matt even managed to whip up a delicious day-late Thanksgiving feast, complete with stuffing and homemade pumpkin pie (even the crust) just hours after completing 3 days and 2 nights of straight sailing. I mean that's just showing off, right?  But we were happy for it and overate, just as you ought to at a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.

Curacao

On one of the days we spent in Bonaire, the roads near the courthouse were closed for a big criminal trial. It wasn't a big enough trial to yield any Google results but big enough for all the locals to know about it. A cab driver told us that it involved people from Curacao that were accused of murdering a third person from Curacao a little while back. Apparently, people from Bonaire don't do murder; it's those bad seeds from Curacao bringing down the hood. We had also heard rumors that people in Curacao aren't as friendly as in Bonaire.

When we got to Curacao, it did seem true that the local people in Willemstad weren't quite as friendly as in Kralendijk (Bonaire). But Willemstad is a huge metropolis next to Kralendijk. It's an almost universal truth that people who live in big cities aren't as friendly as those who don't. It's self-preservation--otherwise  you would spend all your time greeting everyone. Curacao has  industry and business that isn't just tourism. Of course, the population of the whole island is still less than 150,000 people, so it's all relative.

 

 

We anchored in Spanish (Spaanse) Water, which is a 15-minute bus ride to Willemstad, the capital. Nearby are miles of trails surrounding lagoons with flamingos and green parrots. We got to see up close the pink shrimp that give the flamingos their signature color. Mark and Conrad chased lizards all over the place, trying unsuccessfully to capture them temporarily (lucky lizards).

 

Willemstad is a diverse and colorful city. The biggest bridge in the Caribbean lives here and there is a floating pontoon bridge for pedestrians that swings aside when boats need to pass. When the bridge is open, free ferries take passengers across.

Flamingo food

 

Bonaire--familiar and not

In Los Roques, I bonded with a woman on the beach (in Spanish, even--yes, I may have just pulled something from patting myself on the back) over our mutual lack of swimming skills. We laughed about the irony of my living on a boat yet being a relatively poor swimmer. Mark and Conrad are both better swimmers than I am, even considering that Mark's technique involves thrashing around and not making much forward progress when he tries to breathe and swim at the same time. The biggest advantage they have is being comfortable in the water. When I first took lessons at around their age, I hated the cold pool water and sank like a rock. It's been hard to shake that early impression.

Now that we swim almost exclusively in salt water, I can't help but float and if you give me a mask and snorkel I can actually swim for a decent distance. It helps to have logged a lot more hours. However, whenever I try to keep up with someone who actually knows how to swim, like Matt, it's a struggle. Which was a mystery to me, since from my perspective my form was perfect.

So the other day when we were snorkeling, Matt told me that I don't kick properly and that I bend my knees too much. This was news to me because I was pretty sure that I was already keeping my legs straight. So at least now I have something specific to work on (I mean the kicking, not the lack of self-awareness).

Bonaire is Matt's parents' home away from home. They have spent three weeks of every year windsurfing and diving in Bonaire. They're pretty impressive. At the Wilmette sailing beach, I once overheard a young whippersnapper mention to a friend, with mild awe, that she's a windsurfer (pointing to Nana as she walked by). As a result, Matt has been there a handful of times and we even brought Conrad for a visit when he was six months old. Our good friends Jeff and Laura and their daughter Alexis joined us and we had a great time. So we are more familiar with Bonaire than the other islands we have visited. However, like most things in life, it has changed in the last eight years.

Gio's gelateria and café, staffed by the tallest Dutch women ever.

The biggest difference from when we last visited is the cruise ships that come in almost every day. There are new businesses and buildings to support the ships and certainly more people milling about on cruise ship days. But in many other ways the main island is the same. It has crystal clear waters filled with coral and teeming with fish. The streets are notably free of litter and the people are friendly. Lac Bay is a haven for windsurfers, both beginners and world champions. Mark and Conrad's Nana sprang for lessons and they are hooked. We stayed a couple more days to try to get some used equipment so that they can keep at it. Hmmm, do they have scholarships for windsurfing? It's never too soon to start thinking about these things.

We can cross iguanas, flamingos and donkeys off our list of wildlife to see on the island. We saw (from a distance) the salt factory and the slave huts. Of course, the boys are still most interested in digging holes at the beach and swimming around on their boogie boards. We bought $1,400 in groceries, which is meant to be our main provisioning for the next year as we cross the Pacific. Speaking of the aforementioned pack animals (donkeys), Matt has been one and has the sore shoulders to show for lugging a grand and a half of groceries a mile back to the boat over multiple trips. As a side benefit, we're well-positioned for the zombie apocalypse.

It has rained a lot for a supposedly arid island, which has been good for water collection but bad for solar. Matt finally bought a battery tester and figured out that one of our batteries is bad. He may not have needed the tester to figure it out because the battery was almost dry after just a week of adding water and very hot to the touch. He removed it from the bank and we'll replace it when we get to Curacao, which is our next stop. The battery bank has been behaving much better since then. One bad apple and all that.