Zoonie Crosses the Equator
02:00.36N 80:12.91W
Nearing the thin blue line, Neptune’s Parlour
Happy Easter Everyone!
The Equator is only 120 miles ahead of us and one of the presents we will send Neptune is the shackle Rob sawed off the end of the anchor, linking it to the chain so we can re-feed it through the windlass. It has served us well for 5 years, so it is a gift, and cheaper than a bottle of wine!
I suggested that for safety reasons we should send out the chain through the windlass so that we can stop it manually with the handle into the drum to act as a brake if necessary and lock it before we retrieve the chain, so if we slip up and Rob has to let go, only a short length will go back out and Rob’s fingers will not be near it.
We then thought that if we cannot get the windlass working we can run one of the preventer lines forward, connect it to the chain and pull it up on the winch by the cockpit. After all anchors have been retrieved manually for years before the advent of electric windlasses!
000:00.000N 80:27.04W
25th March Good Friday Equator Day
At 8.09 Zoonie crossed the Equator for the first time to the triumphant sounds of Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance. We celebrated with a drink of the last gin with plenty of fruit juice. The shackle went over the side and soon after we phoned all the family.
Rob’s mum, Rosemary, told us about the English Rugby success, Richard was at the shop, Emily was on Bournemouth beach with the family and Sue was busy preparing the vegetable plot for this year’s crops. How amazing we can chat on good lines from 21 miles off the Ecuador Coast to share the dual celebration of the Easter weekend and our entering the southern hemisphere.
Rob has just telephoned Bahia de Caraquez marina who will arrange for the pilot to pick us up at 4.30 this afternoon and guide us into the estuary where Zoonie will be moored between two buoys at the bow and stern. Then the engine can cool down and the work begins.
I will send lots of photos as soon as we have a wide enough Wi-Fi band, now there’s a fine excuse for a beer session in the bar! Cheers
0:36.00S 80:25.00W Bahia de Caraquez Ecuador
A typically short Ecuadorian with thick, black, wavy hair, Ariosto arrived by panga flat bottomed boat driven by Andreas, both of them given to broad friendly smiles. Ariosto guided by quiet movements of his hand to left or right and then a “Si” when we were on course, which itself was a narrow winding route between rolling waves breaking over hard sand bars. Rob parked Zoonie between two up/down river buoys as Andreas passed the stout mooring lines to Ariosto, two at the bow and two at the stern. By 5.30pm we were secure and Ariosto took our papers ashore to the office for the formalities to start.
As the evening was drawing in we pumped up the tender and motored ashore for a beer and a tasty meal in the bar, built 16 years ago largely of bamboo and roofed with asbestos pan tiles, on an old fisherman’s jetty. Tripp Martin was dining with John Halley (of Shelter Bay Marina) in a restaurant in Cartagena all those years ago. Their waitress was a beautiful young woman named Maye. Tripp and Maye’s eyes met and the rest is two futures joined by love.
The next morning we visited Juan in the office and he told us there would be no immigration at the weekend as it was holy week, but we were welcome to explore the town. We walked to the supermarket in stifling heat and languished in the air-con for a few minutes before catching the taxi back the 200 metres to Puerto Amistad (Welcome port) with our carrier bags.
We cannot make water here as the river water is full of mud and nutrients from the shrimp farms and as we are not attached to the land we have to have drinking water delivered to keep the tanks full. So for the first time we are showering ashore. This is done in the evenings after the sun has set and it precedes our evening drink(s). Diesel also is delivered to the boats. In fact Ariosto, Andreas and Pedro work hard all day on errands and also take it in turns to do regular rounds around the eight moored and six anchored boats at night, shining torches along the hulls to ensure all is as it should be.
Within a short while we were part of the network of regulars to the bar and the mixing with staff was all very friendly. We met an English couple who now live here, an American couple who are immigrating for a short while, David and Victoria (The Beckhams!) Alongside us on the mooring buoys are Kim and Katelina who as I type are preparing for Ariosto to guide them back between the jaws of sand to start their crossing of the Pacific in a three day no wind situation.
A friendly French couple arrived in their cat yesterday who leave soon for Gambia, 800 miles south of the Marquesas, as they are less crowded islands and on a better wind angle at present. We may do the same although the SE trade winds are thought to be well set in by June, when we will depart.
Zoonie sits happily a few metres in front of the Club so the Wi-Fi onboard is really good and we have done so much work, some using the printer to print off documents, policies, tickets etc. that in this sense life is a bit like being back home! Talking of home, we shall be meeting Allan Grey and Lorna soon, friends from Oakham, as they are ticking Machu Picchu off their bucket list at the same time as us!
Soon we needed to stretch our legs after the days at sea so off we set along the promenade of this small seaside resort. A favourite weekend haunt for residents of Quito and Guayaquil, who stay in the apartments within the high rises that make the town look more city like than it really is. It was Easter Sunday and hot and humid and the beach was full with natives cooling off in the river-water. Many of the high rises are on the peninsula that reaches out into the estuary, so weekenders can choose to languish on the river beach or the ocean beach which is cooler, with onshore winds.
We sought the shade of buildings and wandered by the almost empty dual carriageways that make it look as if the planners anticipated a much busier future for this charming place. Back on the river side we found Henry’s Sports bar where David and Tory were on duty. Tory had just brought out of the oven a parmesan and artichoke quiche, so they lunched with us while their blue Russian cat, Pips, patrolled the decks of their sailing yacht home anchored near Zoonie.
In the evening Kim and Katelina from Philiosophy came aboard for drinks. When Chilean, Katelina’s husband died she answered an ad for a crew to sail the Pacific with the blessing of her three sons. She is presently hauling up the out board and dinghy onto the deck in readiness. No widow’s weeds for her!
Easter Monday Immigration failed to show as promised but as we were waiting onboard for them we made good use of the time; sorting the next charts, making contact with an agent in Tahiti for our clearance into French Polynesia, printing off a Pacific Puddle Jump Fuel form so as EU members (pre Brexit at the moment) we will get tax free fuel, arranging car hire in the UK and hand sewing an Ecuadorian Courtesy flag from a football match cape of the right colours costing 75 cents in the local supermarket.
In the evening we took our tofu curry, I had just made, to visit D and V only to discover I had used coconut creme instead of what I thought was coconut milk. It was very sweet. Tory told me the creme was for pino coladas!
2nd April. Immigration Ahoy. Zoonie is impounded!
Ariosto motored his boatload of four Immigration Officers to us three days ago, on Tuesday. Two men, two women of varying abilities and tasks.
They clambered aboard and after numerous attempts made it into the cockpit. One of the ladies, the older one, removed her shoes to reveal jazzy, multi-coloured socks which I verbally admired, “Like your socks,” I said, she giggled and the other lady had to find a safe spot for her high heels.
It took a while to explain to one of the young gentlemen that we did not have our Zarpe, it was in the office, “Please explain Ariosto, you took it with you!” The same lad then started filling details of Zoonie onto the sheet for the Cat that had arrived the day before. I physically went through the papers on his lap to show him Zoonie’s name, so he continued on the correct one. He appeared dazed and a little disinterested in the whole experience.
Then the older lady gesticulated she wanted to see our food supplies. In descending the companionway steps facing forward her stockinged foot slipped on the wood and she was propelled, without a hint of elegance, into the saloon more quickly than expected. She squealed, I yelled “Oh no” but all was well and we laughed about it, nervously.
The ladies were most interested in the contents of the fridge and high heeled lady held up the big chocolate bar and went “Hmmm” eyebrows raised. Not that one I think, and I gave her a little Snicker instead which she promptly demolished.
One by one all my precious stores were held up for inspection and countless times I was advised they were nearly out of date and we would have to do a lot of eating before June to stay legal! I’m just glad they did not look in the cupboards behind where typical eat by dates start from 2012!
I took them to a safe area, tins. We were ok there but oh, the biscuits, they would be out of date by the time they come back to clear us out in June, we’ll have to think on that one.
Rob and the youngest officer came below and started going through safety equipment. As he was sitting down I asked him if he wasn’t very hot in his thick jacket, heavy trousers and boots, it was after all 38’ and 70% humidity below. He said signed he was ok, despite rivers of sweat running down his cheeks. All was well until he asked about flares. We have hand held, rocket and canister flares and they are expensive. They were all dated 12/2015. He made it quite clear we would not be moving Zoonie until they were replaced. I hoped he was boiling!
While he was busy pen pushing Rob commented in my ear that high heel lady had just started her monthly and was leaving red skid marks on the upholstery in the cockpit and saloon, in fact wherever she sat.
By this time I was beginning to feel this was all a little too much and I hoped they were nearing the end of their inspection. I popped my head up the companionway steps and clasping the side of the companionway under each elbow started making small talk with the ladies who had retreated to the cockpit seats to cool down. They could not believe how hot it was on board.
HH lady started tapping away on her phone, then pressed for the translation app and held the phone up to me, “I’m ashamed” it read and I said “Why?” She explained in Spanish with a word similar to menstrual in it and I said “Oh no no, don’t worry” and stroked her arm, poor woman, she must have wanted out, back to the aircon of the car and privacy of the ladies loo, as much as we wanted out boat back.
Long and the short is Juan in the office arranged for Giovanny to taxi us to Manta where he knew of a good chandlery/ ironmongers (Ferretaria) where we could ferret around (!) and we replace our flares.
I had recently read about an unfortunate solo sailor who had his yacht sunk under him by a whale in the Sea of Cortez in the Baha California and while languishing in his liferaft, awaiting rescue, he had sent off all his flares to find none of the out of date ones worked but all of the in date ones did. So they had a point. We did need some new flares – at a cost of $560, oh boy, our poor bank account.
That night there was a tremendous thunder storm with lightening and rain bouncing around the hills that surround Bahia. We watched it from the bar glad that we had closed all the hatches and windows on Zoonie before we left.
Kim and Katelina were leaving the next morning and were enjoying a last meal in the bar. We said our goodbyes and motored the short distance back to Zoonie in the rain which was wonderfully cool.
Sleep was not forthcoming as it was too hot and sticky – it can be a tough trip through paradise.
We were back across the little strip of water early the next morning to meet Giovanny at 8.00am for the 90kmtrs drive to Manta. All the way we travelled through agricultural Ecuador. Family farms produced maize, melons, pimientos all over the undulating hills covered in rich, fertile red soil, reminiscent of Devon. On vast areas of flat, alluvial plains people were bent double planting rice in ‘paddy’ fields which also were home to fish for the eating and looking more like China than I had ever expected.
Their homes were built on stilts to protect them from flooding and underneath was shade, room for storage and somewhere to hang the washing. Rarely if ever do the farmers use expensive fertilisers, so through poverty their crops are organic and they sell them from stalls at the side of the road and ship them to markets by pickup truck.
Most of the work is done by hand from picking on the land to selling in the markets where dexterous women’s hand will peel, shuck and chop so some of their produce is sold ready prepared.
Giovanny had a little English and I had a little Spanish so we learned about each other in undemanding chat. Both his children speak English, his daughter is a doctor and his son a lawyer, “Giovanny, you have it sewn up, if you need a doctor or a lawyer!” He understood that.
In the impressive shop in Manta all the female staff were very beautiful, Rob was in seventh heaven, and the young lady who served us spoke perfect American, learned in school. Our flares arrived in a plastic tub lowered by rope through a rectangular hole in the ceiling along with enough engine oil for the next change.
On our way back we called into the bus station to confirm we could travel by executive coach to Guayaquil in a few days and buy the tickets the day before. Giovanny was very happy with his $60 and we were relieved we had been able to replace at least some of the flares.
After lunch aboard we went ashore for a shower and beer with some English friends who have settled here before enjoying a much cooler night’s sleep. As I type this another thunder storm is rumbling away, moodily, in the hills.
Today we are going to start getting our supplies from the super market for our pacific crossing in June. We are both looking forward to this, the shopping that is, as we can cool off in the air conditioned environment of the shopping centre.
Puerto Amistad – House of Martins
From Bahia a visitor can take a journey to nearby National Parks where a vast variety of indigenous birds will be spotted, heaven for birders (the US term) and twitchers ( from the UK) alike; however just right around here, in the estuary, around town and in the club locale there is a wonderful variety.
We wake up to the chirping of sparrows sitting on the boom. White egrets and beautiful grey and black herons with a single long white feather from their head hanging down their back, stand on the rocks or moored craft at the pontoon landing. Curlews fish alongside human fishermen nearby and under the clubhouse which is on stilts, big vultures scavenge with the beach crabs, picking over fish corpses and there are numerous birds I have never seen before.
In town pretty canary like birds with orange beaks are fearless and continue their foraging as we walk past.
We walked across the long bridge that is a few metres upstream from us recently, while it was cloudy so we wouldn’t be roasted by the sun. The sand bank mid-river was vast and curved beaked curlews walked stooping and poking at the sand. A lorry passed us with a big grey cow tethered in the back, she didn’t look or sound too pleased and we wondered how they got her up into the back, with a steep ramp and a lot of huffing and puffing I guess.
We have worked steadily towards the leaving of Zoonie. We changed the engine and gearbox oils and filters and while I washed Zoonie’s interior woodwork down with bleach and water as it was gathering mould and mildew in the more airless corners Rob has poured many blue plastic containers of water into the tanks and topped up the diesel. Ariosto and Andreas bring the water to the boats and then collect the empties and they fill our own jerry cans with fuel.
We have watched the comings and goings of other yachts. Kim and Katelina set off and Steve from Florida left a few days ago, retracing their inward track for a safe route to the ocean. They both headed south to find the SE trades that are in the ascent for the season. By the time we leave they should be well established hopefully.
Joe, on his pretty steel boat is planning to immigrate here. Not sure if I have mentioned but the Ecuador government has a strange, communistic way of welcoming foreigners who wish to settle here by claiming ownership over their vessels. The only way to get the boat back is to buy it at its market value from the government. Consequently Joe is going to sail his back to his brothers in Alaska before returning to live. He leaves next week. He came aboard recently and helped Rob establish that the fault with the windlass is either the switch or the solenoid or both, so we are hoping to obtain replacements while in the UK.
Three big cats arrived, two with charming French couples on board who are always game for a chat. Two boats have now been left for a few weeks in PA’s safe hands. Rita and her husband are German and they have gone off to explore the Amazon a week ahead of us. We don’t imagine we will come across them as it’s the second longest river in the world at 4010 miles, the Nile is 4140 miles long. But then stranger things have and will happen, like our good friends Allan and Lorna Grey from Oakham will arrive at Machu Picchu on the same morning as us!
We have finished our stores shopping for the next six months at a cost of just over $600. In finding room for it all we have opened up four new areas under the aft cabin floors, cleaned them of their dust and oil and will be able to store cartons of milk and fruit juice and packs of pasta and rice in them.
We took a day off and climbed aboard the bus for Canoa, a back-packers haven with a beautiful beach just up the coast a few miles. The ride itself, through the estuary town of San Vicente, opposite Bahia and then out along the coast and through lush green countryside was worth the few dollars in itself.
Many people have told us that just a few weeks ago, in the wet season which is now ending, all the green was brown and parched. But now it rains hard every night in the early hours. (So as soon as we feel the rain on our legs it wakes us up we have to dash around closing all the hatches and windows because just as Zoonie is designed to shed water that comes from below, she takes it directly in when it comes from above – but that’s and aside).
Canoa is full of hostels submerged in lush, mature tropical foliage, from which colourful hammocks swing, some occupied. There are thriving little businesses catering for the many young visitors who stay in this gem of a place as they plod around their chosen route. Surf shops, cafes, restaurants alongside mini supermarkets and stalls selling fruit, veg, smoothies and juices. Yoga and Spanish classes are advertised on hand painted boards.
We were strolling down the wide hard packed sand road next to the beach when a dog fight broke out. A woman started shouting in English for them to stop but it continued until the defeated dog, with his ear in bloody ribbons, escaped. Despite calling him he would not come to the woman and instead trotted off down the road shaking his head every few moments, poor thing.
I haven’t heard so many English speakers, not American accents, since we left the UK. It must be well up on the Googled circuit for globe trotters from home.
We paddled back along the beach with its long and lovely rollers curling towards the shore spotted with some very proficient surfers. At the far end we had a $5 lunch in the Bamboo hotel. Soup, shrimp salad and carrot cake in nice small portions suited us well. This has clearly been an established off the beaten track little town for many years.
After relaxing back on board for a while we went ashore for a shower and then a drink with Tripp, Steven, Sandra and Jules. The bar roof is made of stout bamboo and its hollow stems provide ideal nesting locations for what we have now identified as House Martins. How appropriate, house martins resident in the homely club owned and run by Tripp and Maye Martin. When Emily was a little girl I used to take her to forest classes in the New Forest run by a lady with the surname Drake.
We bought the usual 6 postcards while in Canoa and I wrote them sitting on board Zoonie. We then went to the PO to buy stamps. At $8.30 (£6.00ish) each we thought we’d try again in Guayaquil and if they really are that price the cards might well fall onto the doormats with the queens head on the stamps!
Recovering over two iced coffees in Henry’s Bar we were treated to Tory’s delicious chocolate cake still warm and very moist from the oven. She invited us to her first yoga class the next day to take place in the ocean facing room of the Hotel on the beach opposite where we had turned Zoonie on our way in to motor around the headland on our arrival.
We were following Tory’s lead in the exercises knowing that Steve had set off on his journey to the Marquesas at about the same time and sure enough he motored gently past the open window behind Tory, just a few metres from us. It was almost surreal, this world of ancient yoga meeting Steve’s present day ocean odyssey.