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Travalog
Ten At 3:30 PM, July 10th VIVA passed through the old fortified entrance of Boca Chica, the southernmost entrance to Cartagena Harbor. Our plan was to sail to the eastern Caribbean islands; however, we were well into the hurricane season, and our insurance required us to stay below 12° north latitude. We therefore decided to spend the summer and fall months traveling East to Cartagena, the north coast of Colombia, Aruba, Curacao, Bonaire, the Venezuelan islands and mainland, ending up in Trinidad for the holidays - a voyage of 900 miles. Needless to say, after our broken boom episode, we were happy to arrive in Cartagena. With all the warnings about Colombia, we were somewhat wary, and were required to carry a special insurance rider on our policy; but during our stay we never felt threatened or had a bad experience. Of course we never ventured into the interior of the country where all the civil unrest seems to be occurring. After a 7-mile motor up the harbor, we arrived at Club Nautico, one of the two marinas in the inner harbor. We anchored in front of Club Nautico and for $1.50 a day, had the use of their dinghy dock, water, laundry service, bar and restaurant. The marina is quite convenient to town, and within a block, we had a good market, pharmacy, bank, ATMs, several restaurants and a pizza parlor. Our first order of business was to find an aluminum fabricator to repair our boom. With two or three good recommendations, we had the boom repaired, painted and back on the boat within a week. All for $380.00 US! Cartagena turned out to be quite a pleasant surprise. The city is quite cosmopolitan, with many good restaurants, boutiques, galleries, museums, etc., and all for a very nominal price. From our anchorage we had the added bonus of a spectacular nighttime view of the old walled city, which has been completely restored and floodlit at night. A taxi anywhere around town was $1.50 - $2.00, and a fabulous meal for $5.00 - $8.00 (not counting the booze!) Most of our time there was spent on boat maintenance and just playing tourist. We visited all the local forts, museums, galleries and spent a lot of time just wandering around the old walled city. With the price of meals so reasonable, we ate out quite often, always a pleasant treat. There are numerous outdoor plazas by the old cathedrals, and for the price of a beer, you could enjoy the consecutive performances of mimes, jugglers, dancers, acrobats and musicians. One particular daytime adventure included a trip to a nearby "volcano" and adjacent mud bath with the Nixons and Lorentzens. After an hour drive we ended up at a small dirt mound about 50 feet high with some primitive steps leading to the summit. After donning our bathing suits in the back of the minibus, we ascended to the "mud pit" on top. The mud bath was lukewarm, the consistency of mayonnaise and included a massage by some all to eager locals, and a washdown afterwards in the adjacent fresh water lake. We were still picking mud out of our ears for weeks after! What we don't do for fun! The Lorentzens chose to abstain from the mud bath, so Diana became the official photographer. We weren't really sure we wanted this event recorded on film, but it did give us a great idea for Halloween costumes! After three weeks of sightseeing and boat maintenance it was time to prepare for the 400-mile trip to Aruba. We had spoken to numerous cruisers who had just made the westbound trip, and had some good recommendations, not to mention horror stories. They all said we were crazy to be going that direction. We also had a good article written about this passage, which included numerous stops and anchorages along the way. Unfortunately, the entire trip is against the tradewinds, with a 2-3 knot opposing current, which makes for very slow going. In the winter months, the tradewinds blow from 25 - 40 knots steady, which makes the trip almost impossible at that time. In the summer and fall, the winds are supposed to drop to the 15 - 20 knot range; and there is the possibility of a "weather window" calm period if a tropical wave is passing through. This particular passage is considered the roughest in the Caribbean, and fifth roughest in the world! On the morning of our departure, we actually left Cartagena with a southerly wind on our beam, which made for a beautiful sail to our first anchorage at Punta Hermosa, 50 miles away. CHARIS arrived shortly after, and we both settled down for a quiet night in this protected, but very remote anchorage. At about 9:00 PM, we heard a commotion on CHARIS, and realized that they had been boarded by a couple of armed drug enforcement cops and their dog, a drug-sniffing cocker spaniel! They had arrived by panga unannounced in the dark, and wanted to inspect their boat. All ended well, but needless to say, quite an unnerving experience. The next morning it was off bright and early for the next leg, which included the crossing of the mouth of the Rio Magdalena, Colombia's largest river. We had been warned to make this ten-mile crossing during daylight because of all the debris from the heavy rainfall that washes into the ocean, including some good size tree trunks. We were aware of boats that had been sunk after colliding with one of these trees. Fortunately, we only saw smaller debris; however, the river current against the ocean waves made for a pretty uncomfortable, lumpy ride. Of course the wind was back on the nose about 20 knots and we now knew what we were in for. While pounding across the river mouth, we developed two new lateral cracks in the boom about 3" long where they had welded the new sleeve. It didn't seem to get any worse but the dilemma now, was should we spend two days backtracking to Cartagena, or continue on to Curacao or Venezuela for any further repairs. We decided that the remainder of the trip would probably be spent motorsailing with two or three reefs in the main, so we decided to continue, and rigged another mainsheet to the end of the boom to lessen the load. We continued on to the anchorage at Gaiera with no further problems. This little bay was a well-protected anchorage; however, being a seaside resort, the discos continued into the wee morning hours. We left the next morning early before the winds got too strong, and headed eastward for the first of five beautiful little bays. This section of the coast is quite mountainous, and the bays quite spectacular, and is all part of a national park. Each is set back in a mile or so from the ocean with the heavy foliage dropping to the water edge and a white sand beach in the middle. This made for some very calm water and blocked the majority of the tradewinds. After spending two days at Ancon Chico, the first of the bays, Bob and Connie decided to continue on for the 130-mile trip to Cabo Vela, since they would be flying home from Aruba. The following morning, after poking our bow out into the 25 kt winds, we decided to lay over until the wind subsided a little and moved up to the next bay of Guairaca. As luck would have it, the wind continued to build for the next few days, and we learned via SSB that CHARIS had almost made it to Cabo Vela when they ripped out their mainsail, overheated their engine and had backtracked 60 miles to Riohacha for repairs and more fuel. Since we had no schedule, we definitely weren't leaving in those conditions! On
our second day in the remote anchorage of Guairaca, we were approached
by a 75 year old Colombian, named Jorge, with his son and daughter-in-law.
They arrived at VIVA in an old aluminum skiff with an ancient Wankel
rotary outboard engine, and had just come over from their hillside
house for a visit with the wandering gringos. Apparently, most cruisers
never spend more than a day before moving on. Well, we offered beers
all around and after a nice visit, Jorge invited Pam and I to lunch
at their house the next day. Jorge's wife is disabled with phlebitis,
so his son, Miguel does all the cooking. The next day Jorge picked
us up in the skiff, gave us a tour of his property, and then treated
us to a delicious home-cooked fish dinner. It turned out that Jorge
was a retired electric appliance repairman from Bogota, and had built
his little retirement cottage some years before. All of his electrical
power came from an ancient Wankel generator, from which he was able
to interchange parts with his outboard! After three or four days,
it was obvious we were going to need more diesel fuel and some extra
provisions, so Jorge offered to accompany me to Santa Marta on the
local bus. In Santa Marta we met his friend Rudy, who had just retired
from the Port Captain's office, and who was the proud owner of a classic
'54 Chevy pickup truck. After a couple of cervezas, Rudy offered to
drive us to an ATM, supermercado and local gas station for our diesel.
Of course each stop called for another beer break! After 30 years
in the Port Captain's office, Rudy knew everyone in town, and they
all recognized his bright blue pickup truck. Next it was off for a
great seafood lunch of shrimp and rice and beers all around. Total
cost: $9.25 US! I of course offered to treat! After five days, the wind seemed to let up and we took off for the 130-mile trip to Cabo de la Vela. This is where the trip really started to get nasty. It was not only the 20-25 kts of wind and short confused seas, but also the 2-3 knot opposing current that dropped our speed to 2.5 - 3 knots over the ground! After a day and a half, we arrived at Cabo de la Vela on the western tip of the Guajiran Peninsula. Although the anchorage was well protected, this was really a godforsaken spot with the wind howling at 30 knots offshore. CHARIS had passed through the day before, and SECOND KISS was the only other boat at anchor. The terrain on this peninsula is quite a barren desert, reminiscent of the wildest Baja coastline, without a plant in sight. While at anchor there, we had a visit from the crew of a small Colombian Coast Guard launch, who inquired if we had any emergency needs. I don't know what you would do with any serious breakdowns in this area. The heavy winds blew all night and through the next day, so we rested a day before the 130-mile thrash to Aruba. After starting out the following morning, the current was particularly strong, dropping our speed over the ground to less than 3 knots; and it was obvious we would need more fuel. After pounding our way for 10 miles, we arrived at a large desolate bay, in which was located a large coal loading operation, and the operating base of the Coast Guard launch. After a short radio conversation, the Coast Guard crew offered to take me and our empty fuel cans on a diesel run. Pam remained on VIVA, motoring around while we made the 10-mile high speed run in their launch. At the end of the bay our launch captain, commandeered 18 gallons of fuel from some very seedy Colombian fishing/trading boats. There was no charge for this service or the fuel, and we were soon on our way again. The final run was extremely uncomfortable, and with the wind on the nose, we had to tack the entire distance to Aruba. This added at least 30 miles to our trip. Finally after 2½ days on this leg, we arrived at the commercial dock in Aruba. Average speed: 3.1 knots! The Nixons and Lorentzens met us on the dock with cold champagne so we quickly got into the Caribbean mood, shared a few war stories, and started to forget the more unpleasant parts of the last few days. Needless to say, we were happy to arrive intact, without any further breakdowns; and we now felt that we had truly arrived in the Caribbean. We'll close for now, and follow up with a report on Aruba, Curacao, Bonaire and the Venezuelan islands and mainland. Drop us note when you have a chance. We always enjoy news from the homefront. Best
wishes,
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