April 16-23, 2015

We have had the pleasure of meeting many Volvo dealers in the Americas, many with excellent service, some not. Our dock and technicians at Case Pilote in Martinique were uniquely wonderful.  We had heard rave reviews of the Martinique dealer from a fellow cruiser who replaced his Volvo with this dealer’s help.  This seemed like the perfect time to do an overhaul on our engines in preparation for our Pacific crossing.

About 100 feet of the local fishing pier is earmarked for Inboard Diesel and Two Fish had a reserved seat.  Upon tying up, we noticed that we had a small

tree wrapped around our rudder. We wondered how we hadn’t noticed it while sailing. Jason opined that it had cost us half a knot.  Diving under the boat is a blue job so Jason dove to remove the tree.  However,  I wrestled the tree to a safe place, where it wouldn’t fall back in the water and cause a headache for another boat.

Around 5 pm was fishing time and we observed lots of lines being thrown, with little output but much relaxation. The boats that went out to sea seemed to have better luck. Another method utilized in the harbor was to string out a fishing net and haul it into shore. Fortunately, Two Fish and her propellers were a hundred yards away.

It was a nice change from our usual cruising harbor to be in an industrious small town with its own rhythm. There was a small supermarket and bakery and a sub-standard pizza joint. What else explains why when told we could get 2 for 1 pizzas, I responded: that’s okay, we’ll just take one.

We saw a sign for a night market and eagerly planned our day around the visit. We approached the plaza and saw the six

tables of participants, one of whom was selling old books. I saw someone frying bits of something and asked for a dozen assorted. My French couldn’t keep up with what they told me they were, but I figured it couldn’t be too bad. They were a mix of donuts and fish balls, both pretty good. Jason was meanwhile enthralled by the announcer who was circulating among the six tables with a portable microphone. The announcer’s routine was to describe the wonders at the table and then hand the microphone to the vendor. The bookseller held on to the microphone for quite some time. I, of course, couldn’t understand anything. I wish there was a 0.5x button you could press to slow speakers down.

Back to the engines. Philibert took both of our engines apart, cleaning the heat exchangers, flushing the coolant loop and replacing our fuel pumps.  Volvo requires dealers, NOT owners, to do valve adjustments and injector spray tests. We have found out that Volvo engines are really Perkins parts, painted Volvo green. I am amazed at how many pieces they can be decomposed into and that they can be put back together too. Philibert couldn’t have been nicer as he responded to our questions and checked everything out.

Frank, who owns Inboard, is originally from Sweden. The garage is about a ten minute walk away from the dock space, so they have adapted a Swedish mail delivery cart for parts transport. The shop is fully stocked with a variety of parts and is the dealer for the Caribbean and Latin American region. Like kids in a candy store, we were tempted to buy one of everything.

We stayed on the dock an extra day before heading to St. Anne, so that we could travel to Fort de France to meet Krystal. We had tried to figure out when the buses run to town and came to the conclusion that they stopped at 5 or 6 pm. No problem, we’ll get a taxi. I had thought I was very smart when I checked in at Fort de France and took a photo of the taxi sign with phone numbers. I should have tried to call them then as neither number worked. No problem, we’ll thumb a ride. We have been on walks on many Caribbean islands and had cars slow down to ask us if we wanted a ride; we always refused since we enjoy our walks. Not the case in Martinique, after 45 minutes of alternate thumbs, we gave up. Hence the bad pizza. We realized we could only meet Krystal during the day.

After Case Pilote, we chose to stay at St. Anne, rather than head to the boat city that is Le Marin. St. Anne is a nice seaside village with a few good places to eat. Our friends on Receta took us to their favorite place for cocktails and croquettes and we enjoyed a few quiet nights at anchor.

Anchors, mooring balls and docks are everywhere in Le Marin. Jason drove us via dinghy from St. Anne to Le Marin. I remember it as a 15 minute ride but he says it was 45 minutes. It was definitely into the waves on the way there. The town is great if you need boat parts, but we were taking a break from boat service so there wasn’t much there for us, other than some tasty kabobs.

Onward now to St. Lucia. Once again, our AIS was a great communicator. We were spotted by our friends on El Mundo as they passed us in the opposite direction.

April 24-May 4, 2015

The origin of St. Lucia’s name is not clear. It was, not surprisingly, inhabited by the Caribs,

who might have called it Iouanalao, where the Iguana is found.

What we found was a very green island, and to call it hilly with winding roads would be an understatement. It is a volcanic island and I doubt that the many Europeans who claimed it as their possession, went very far inland. It is known to have had 14 different flags from 1660 to 1814. As a constitutional

monarchy, it is a member of the British Commonwealth. Queen Elizabeth II is head of state and is represented by a Governor-General, but the island is governed by a Prime Minister and a Parliament. Their fun fact is that St. Lucia has more Nobel laureates per capita than any other country.(2 per 181,000 people).

Rodney Bay was a marina stop for us, which meant cleaning the boat, doing some routine maintenance and fixing some odds and ends. One of our key tasks before next year, was to have our liferaft serviced. We accompanied the mechanic to his shop-I was in the cab, Jason in the back being bounced around with the liferaft.  Ever notice Jason has the dirty jobs, underwater jobs and the dangerous jobs?  We watched as our liferaft was tested. I was pleased to see that there actually was a liferaft in the canister. It was also great to familiarize ourselves with the inflated structure. Outdated water and batteries were replaced and the raft was packaged up again.  How can water go bad?  The marine industry sure knows how to use fear to get into the bank account.

 

I joined the crew of Receta for a pleasant walk to the ocean side, complete with sighting of

rocket booster debris and lots of Sargassum. Speculation on the internet is that it is from a satellite launch, and if you have a few hours to spare, you can read the debate on which satellite it might be from and whether it is, or isn’t made of titanium.

Jason went for a dive with the newly-opened dive center down the block.  He was saw sea horses and a fish swimming with her eggs in her mouth waiting for them to hatch.  Rodney Bay is a short dinghy ride from some great supermarkets and a short bus ride from Castries Market. On one of my supermarket dinghy ride, I slowed down near one of the docks and a Jack Russell terrier jumped in. I was backing away when I realized he was there;  we were at least 5 feet away when he jumped back onto the dock. I hardly knew what had happened. At Castries Market, Ann and Steve  helped us navigate the local varieties; my favorite new fruit was the wax apple and my least favorite, the soursop.

At Marigot Bay, I stepped up my Jason torture. We watched the original Dr. Dolittle movie, which was filmed in Marigot Bay. Now the bay is developed, but during the filming there was nothing there, so it looked like a remote South Pacific island.  Apart from the sing-a-long to the theme song, it was sort of a bust. Even I had to fast forward through portions of it. Jason was impressed with the huge Great Pink Sea Snail that also offered oceanic passages.  The bay itself was murky but pleasant, with some nice hiking trails and use of the hotel gym.  When living in paradise on a boat you miss some of the taken for granted luxuries available onshore.  The bug-free, car about to run you over-free gym is a luxury that we could not miss. The only downside was that some of our fellow Antares owners had experienced mooring drift while there. That is their boats drifted when the poorly maintained moorings failed. Jason was again tossed in the water to tie a back-up line to the anchor block. He couldn’t see through the muck so had to follow the chain to get there.  A new sport of braille Scuba has been created.  I think next time we will just tie a rolling hitch to the mooring line below the ball.

 

“Hello … um I mean … Hola”, Gail spoke into the hotel phone as we were woken by a 5 am call from the concierge.   The caller asked “Had we been looking for the pharmacist?”  Gail curtly replied “Wrong room”.  This mistake phone call played into my preconceptions of drug-filled Colombia but the next three days would show me another country.   Embarrassingly, most of my understanding of Colombia comes from watching Gail’s favorite situation comedy “Modern Family,” so I had plenty to learn.

Politics

The country is full of oxymorons such as peace activists involved in gun crimes.  Or, rich communist politicians.  Or, closely allied governments funding the Colombian rebels.  Or, philanthropist drug lords.  Or, a mayor of Bogotá who is an ex-Guerilla. Because modern Colombia is complex, Colombians seem to be comfortable looking at a problem that does not have an easy solution.  The small group of Colombians we met seemed more interested in politics than people I encounter in the US.  This gave me hope; however, some of the crime stories seem to indicate there is a long way to go.  We have been told horrific crime stories that I hope have been embellished over time.  The car jack genre usually involves a cab driver and partners who blow drugs on the victim which causing them to enter a defenseless state.  Cognizant enough to know their bank pin code, they are driven to an ATM, but have no memory in the morning.  Our well-meaning hosts would tell us varieties of these stories to keep us safe but also to express their frustration.  Colombia seems to have been in this unfortunate state since 1948, when the Liberal leader, Gaitan, was assassinated by the Conservative government.  The largest and most infamous guerrilla group is FARC, with which the government is trying to broker a peace agreement after 60 years of civil war.  The road to peace seems bumpy as the leadership are juggling their desire for peace with the ability to absolve FARC of the violence. The only more stubborn civil war is currently in Papua New Guinea.

 

Bike Tour

There is no better way to explore a new city than on a bike tour.  Fortunately, we stopped frequently during the 5 hour trip, as the high altitude was making me short of breath.  We gorged on foreign fruits with names that seemed to all start with G; many claimed to be aphrodisiacs.

We pedaled through the red light district.  We stopped at a coffee shop and a chocolate shop which are musts in Colombia.   Gail, and a few other chocaphiles on the bike tour, gave the chocolate a failing grade.   Nobody partook of the odd refreshment of crab drink – yes, crabs pulverized in a blender. We visited cemeteries, statues of great Spaniards, memorials to revolutionaries, murals for the displaced farmers and half a dozen outdoor peace paintings. We saw some jugglers, entertaining cars who were stopped at a light.

Street Performers from Two Fish on Vimeo.

Navigating the streets was exciting as we fought with cars and motor bikes for space while avoiding large potholes.  Our enthusiastic leader had poor traffic sense and a meandering style which lead to a bit of chaos amongst his flock.  However, no one fell off their bikes despite the gears and brakes being of questionable quality.  My wheels were slightly bent so the brake would only engage at the bent portion of the wheel and with a strong vibration through the bike frame.  With vigorous application of the brake the bike would stop violently; this was tested several times as fellow riders seemed to keep popping up in front of me.

 

Not Your Average Emerging Market City

I enjoy cities like this that are growing. Bogotá seems proud of its heritage while also embracing change.   We were shown two examples that brought their into strong contrast.   The bull fighting stadium carries a tradition some Colombians find important to their Spanish heritage.   The current mayor closed the stadium months ago because of the cruelty to the bulls.   To add to the complexity, the bull fighters have joined forces with socialists sueing the city for barring their right to work.  Another strange association we were shown was a Catholic church with an abortion clinic on the side buildings.

Colombian Rapper from Two Fish on Vimeo.

 

Bogotá Rhythm

Bogotá’s streets are mostly arranged in a grid, with Calles running East-West and Carreras running North-South, making it easy to navigate.  A street address in Bogotá is very precise and offers much data as to the location. Calle 11 # 4-41, translates into Calle 11 near the intersection with Carrera 4, 41 meters from the intersection .  It is almost a Lat/Lon, London city planners are you listening?

We have enjoyed walking the city by daylight.  There is plenty of street art, commemorating important events. We also went to the Mercado de las Pulgas, which any Northern Californian will tell you is a flea market. We bought some Habas for a snack. You might know them as dried fava beans. We were told that world class cyclist Nairo Quintana claims to get his strength from these.

The statue of La Pola, commemorates a heroine of the Independence movement, Policarpa Salavarrietta. Bavaria breweries introduced a beer, La Pola, to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Columbian independence. Since some time after that, pola has become slang for beer in Columbia.

 

Museums

Bogota hosts several museums with collections from history to gold but my primary goal was the Botero Art Museum.  I get Botero and Lipchitz confused.   The fourth photo is a sculpture I visited as a child in Philadelphia.  Lipschitz is older than Botero and my theory is that Botero drew inspiration from this sculpture.  Agree?

 

Ciclovia

Bogota is also known as being the first “car-free” Sunday city. In 1974, the mayor started the ciclovia and it has continued since then with every Sunday now being bike-free. We enjoyed the freedom to pedal and watch as most of Bogota seemed to empty into the streets.

Four days in Bogota is not enough but we liked the little we saw.  If you get a chance explore the town, your tastebuds will thank  you.

 

May 5-18, 2015

After leaving St. Lucia, we sailed past St. Vincent and headed towards Bequia, the northernmost Grenadine. The 70 mile sail consisted of about 15 miles in the lee of St. Lucia, 20 miles between the islands, 20 miles along the coast of St. Vincent and another 15 miles through the current and waves towards Bequia. Despite the photos, Caribbean sailing is not the flat water downwind paradise that I had imagined. Even after we reached Martinique, we had more than our share of sailing to windward with varying amounts of current and waves against us. We have been told that this has been a particularly windy season, but I think in general, 20 to 25 is the expected wind at any time. Since it gets a bit annoying for me, I tend to be at the helm

along the lee of the island, while Jason helms the more open sea passages.

 

As we approached Bequia, Two Fish and Jason were thrilled to see Kenmore Henville  motor up in his dinghy to take some photos. This was at the point where I thought our sails should be coming down. Never mind, it was only blowing a consistent 30 knots. Most impressive was Kenmore’s ability to handle the camera and the dinghy with Two Fish barreling down on him.

Once we got into the harbor, we found a spot near Princess Margaret Beach. We weren’t too happy with the anchor set but stayed there anyway. The highlight of our stay was a small model boat museum, staffed by a boat builder. He escorted us through all of the models and photos, reliving his past. It was a great island for walking and looking at the various businesses. We even found a store with fresh lettuce. “Where is your lettuce from?”, I asked. “Miami,”, the woman responded.

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On the third day, we went to shore so I could read my book and drink coffee while Jason went for a scuba dive. As we tied up the dinghy, he said “Keep an eye on Two Fish, in case she drags.” Thank you – there went my relaxation for the morning. After a third night of anchor anxiety, I said to Jason that we should either find a new spot, or leave. We weighed anchor and headed to Mustique.

 

Mustique is a bit like a theme park. All of the fancy houses are spread around the island, but every once in a while you walk down the wrong road and end up behind the scenes at the workers’ quarters or the golf cart repair lot.  Once you get beyond the first level, there are great paths and roads for hiking and the harbor is enjoyable. The day that we arrived, the harbor employees were conducting an oil spill drill. It was good to see how serious they were about containing any accident and I am sure they hoped they would never have to use their skills. A few of the Grenadines are owned by individuals, which is a bit tough to get your head around. Mustique was purchased in 1958 by Colin Tennant, who turned it into a party spot for the rich, royal and famous. Mick Jagger and Princess Margaret were noted visitors. It is now owned by the Mustique corporation and is a bit less of a party spot.

On our first hike, we noted some red rings around several trees and figured the rings were marking the path. A bit later, we read the sign that noted that the trees were red rings were maniocheel trees, extremely poisonous to the touch. Good thing we didn’t hug the trees. Besides the hiking, we had a fun afternoon watching local cricket and Jason had what he considers to have been his best Caribbean Roti at Firefly. I had the flying fish sandwich.

One of Jason’s favorite pastimes is helping boats tie up to mooring balls and docks. Mustique was no exception as Jason kept an eye out for candidates. The bonus is that we often meet some very nice people. Here Jason helped Elpis tie up and we hung out with Umberto and Anne for a few days, visiting the Cotton House and talking boats. Umberto is a guitarist but he has circumnavigated solo and is just as eager to talk boats as music.  Anne is the best-dressed boat crew I have seen. She claims that they left Europe so quickly that she didn’t have time to buy boat clothes. Many boaters complain about Mustique because they are only passing through for a night and the mooring balls are charged in increments of 3 nights. We stayed through two cycles! I am looking forward to returning.

Next stop was Chatham Bay on Union Island, at the foot of the Grenadines. It is an interesting bay; every two or three minutes, a howling wind tears through the bay. Then it stops. Then it starts. You get the picture. It is also far from any town but has a few restaurants, all vying for your business. We were there for several days and discovered that as long as you patronize a place once, they stop bothering you. Jason enjoyed paddling the harbor every evening, until the French boats showed up with their unclothed crew. It has been a surprise to us that many upper-middle-aged Europeans enjoy wandering around their boat in the buff. As soon as the anchor is “set”, off comes the Speedo for a walk around the boat.

For our trip into Clifton to check out, we got a ride from one of the businessmen. The car was a decomposed Volvo-who needs floorboards? It was a nice town, but the harbor looked crowded and rolly, so we were glad that we had chosen to anchor at Chatham.  We walked home, and passed by our namesake guest house, but did not go in.

After a few days of peaceful floating with bouts of gusts, we decided to move on, so we prepared for a sail South towards Carriacou.

After reintroducing ourselves to our wool clothing in Bogotá, we were looking forward to returning to sea level and the warm breezes of the Caribbean. I was expecting a continental version of some of the islands we visited this summer, but instead I found a place more redolent of the Brazilian ports we visited last year. The buildings and streets of the old town have a similar colonial feel to Recife and Paraty and the winds of the open ocean are evident in the bent palm trees along the shore.

I am fairly sure that true Cartageñans only enter the centro histórico when distant cousins are visiting, but we enjoyed being immersed in the touristy streets and museums. Pedro de Heredia founded Cartagena de Indias, (as opposed to Cartageña, Spain) in 1533, overtaking a Carib settlement. For many years, Spanish Galleons transported Peruvian and Mexican gold from

Cartageña to Spain. Columbia’s answer to the Erie canal was the Canal del Dique, which connects Cartageña to a major inland River. In advance of our visit, I started reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, a fantastical novel by Cartageñan Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The nobel prize winner has an accessible style, which I enjoyed. The lives of his characters are interwoven with strange visions such as a woman who eats dirt and worms, butterflies forever following a visitor and a few instances of a bit too high a genetic relationship in their progeny.

The walled city is a bit tough to navigate. The names on the street corners didn’t coincide with the paper map, Google maps, or Apple maps. We ran out of options. Fortunately, the area is small, and if you walk around in enough circles, eventually you will pass the building you are looking for. We visited The Museo Naval del Caribe. The exhibits looked interesting but all of the explanations are in Spanish and Rosetta Stone failed to cover the vocabulary of the great Columbian Naval battles. There were some short movies covering life aboard a battleship. It is always interesting to see the parallels between life aboard big and small ships; their anchor s just happen to be a bit bigger than Two Fish’s.

The Museo de Arte Moderno de Cartagena de Indias, was an easier place to visit, as interpretations of art in any language go over my head. One of the rooms was devoted to Enrique Grau, a Cartageñan artist, born in 1920.


The fascinating part was how varied his work was, both the mediums and subjects.

The final museum we visited was the Museo del Oro Zenú, a smaller version of the one we missed in Bogotá.

Relics from the Zenú dated back over 2000 years and were amazingly intricate. As you might imagine, a gold museum required an armed guard and a vault door. “Solo diez minutos,” the guard told us. The Naval Museum needed no such security.

After being

steeped in culture and food for a few days, we decided it was time for a bit of exercise, and headed to Bodytech in the modern,

Bocagrande section of town. The mall also contains a wonderful salad spot and a multiplex. Holá Mission Impossible!
The mall display corner shows an example of the Moais we will be visiting on Easter Island next week. Perhaps we should skip the long flight and take our selfies here?