26/Jul/2012, Parque Tayrona - Colombia
Nudging out of the marina berth at 7am signified a milestone in the cruising life of Spruce. Our last two permits authorised and we were off to the Five Bays in Tayrona Parque Nacional. We don't quite understand the purpose of all the official pieces of paper but we have them and can now do some cruising in this beautiful corner of Colombia. Friends Eddie and Faye have joined us for a few days, they are in the middle of a multi-month tour of Central and South America and will soon be off to visit the rest of Colobia, Equador, Peru and the other countries south of here.
The plan was to depart early before the winds increased for the day and built up the seas off headlands, always contrary to the constant current flowing along this coast anything more than 15 knots of breeze would make the conditions unpleasant. As it was thje wind speed quickly piped up, but not before we had rounded the headland off Isla Aguja. En route we chose to turn in to the coast a bay before our original objective, the seas reduced as soon as we got behind the headland and entered Ensenada Guiraca. Absolutely stunning scenery. Back into the water for snorkeling, although the visibility underwater was no where near as good as at Bonaire; some nice Porcupine Fish and Angel Fish to watch.
A very blustery night with katabatic winds howling down off the mountains; nothing sustained, but until we got used to the frequent 40+knots blasts heeling us as they hurtled in from different directions it was exciting.
A few days along this coastline and then we'll prepare for the passage down the coast to Cartagena and its splendid former colonial architecture.
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23/Jul/2012
New friends from the hike to the Lost City joined us for an afternoon splashing about in salt water and a beer aboard Spruce. All sporting our scars from insect bites. It was nice to have a swim without first walking over a steep hill.
Left to Right: Andy, Mikey, Rachel, Ibra, Maeve, Orla
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23/Jul/2012
An obligatory steep ascent and descent seemed to be the typical day's programme. A wonderful lush tropical forest provided a green backdrop to our journey. Occasional breaks in the foliage gave a glimpse of the river, tumbling over boulders in turbulent turmoil or an open area of meadowland near a Kogi settlement suddenly opened out, appearing strange after so long in the trees. Hanging shoots and creepers, aerial plants and other greenery replaced by grass, maybe a grunting hog tethered beneath a tree fattening up for a ceremonial meal; a far cry from the ocean or coastal margins, where cruisers spend so much of their time.
A local Kogi native Indian settlement had been constructed beside the trail. Normally the Kogi are a shy people who mainly live at high altitude in the Sierra Nevada, there seems to be some disagreement between various tribal elements on having close contact with modern influences. Mortality in infancy is much higher than our communities would tolerate, women spend much of their productive lives pregnant; the duty to maintain population levels is built within their culture and ethos. Permission was granted for our group to visit the village and gain a small insight into their lifestyles; probably little different than middle age Britain. Dependency on the forest to provide showed the importance of maintenance of their environment. The widespread destruction of the Amazonian forest to the South must be causing tremendous displacement of indigenous peoples reliant on the jungle.
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These refugees from the Conquistadors' exploration and plundering of the sixteenth century now have land protected and preserved by the Colombian government; allowing them to live following traditional values. The fuel used by the Cabanas along the trail was bought from the Kogi peoples and felled by them. Children visiting the camps scavenged food and sachets of sugar, mothers obtained drinks and snacks. These local indigenous people were obviously living a vastly different life than those completely isolated from our twenty-first century societies.
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A ravine bridged by a suspension bridge of sorts. No more than three people to be supported simultaneously. Heavy cables each side, metal planks between them with hand wires at chest height; mesh between prevented walkers from slipping through to the river below. The structure wobbled alarmingly if passengers all walked in step, the old adage of an army patrol shouting "Break Step" made much sense. Beside the bridge remained the former method of crossing the chasm; a single wire with a metal cage suspended below. Ropes used to pull the occupants across were no longer evident.
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The final camp was the same irrespective of which tour-company had guided you thus far. Most of the other Cabanas housed trekkers in both directions. Typically hikers stayed here only on the last night before ascending to La Ciudad Perdida. Our alarm call was at 5 am. It was important to be at the Lost City early before tropical clouds began to gather and obscure the view; humidity was low and the temperature quite pleasant for the climb up 1,800 steps to the start of the archaeological site. Legs were pumped after the stone steps had been scaled; infuriatingly the spacing of steps was inconsistent, making concentration essential to avoid slipping on the moss covered treads.
Initial impressions were good. Stone hut platforms carefully constructed using dry-stone walling techniques. Maize grinding bowls laid about showed the endless chore of providing flour for staple fare. Two thousand five hundred people lived in this city, quite an achievement for the times when considering food, water and waste management for such a number. As we climbed higher into the city the grandeur of the edifices increased; we were moving to the zone of privileged residence. A man in Kogi dress wandered up the main driveway giving an almost ethereal quality to the early morning experience. Dappled light playing upon his form as he walked where many of his ancestors had once trodden.
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