Thursday 6th March we were up early and ready to depart Santa Marta anchorage by 6am. Prior to lifting the anchor, we called the port authority on VFH channel 16. There was no response. We tried again and again and still no response. We weighed anchor and began motoring out of the bay, calling on channel 16 every couple of minutes. By 0645 hours, we had called more than 20 times. I guess, although it's essential to call for clearance to leave, they don't actually start work until 8am! As per yesterday, the swell was on the bean, as we left the bay and the boat rolled uncomfortably but at least, this morning, the wind, what little there was, was from the northwest, as forecast. We didn't get another visit from the Navy but we did have three dolphins alongside for a short time. Eventually the wind started to pick up and we deployed the foresail, which counteracted the rolling somewhat. After another twenty minutes, at 0935 hours, we had sufficient wind to sail and turned the engine off. We had set a course to keep at least six miles off the coast at Baranquilla, as the outflow of the river can cause rough seas and also brings with it debris, in the form of large logs, dead cows and abandoned sofas. However, the swell actually died down and we had a gentle and pleasant sail downwind and didn't see any logs. The water was like the Humber, silty and brown, eventually turning a murky green as we headed further west.
I had selected 10pm to 1am for my first night watch, hoping to make best use of the moonlight. Pete and I had both had naps during the day, although I only managed to rest my eyes. After tea and sunset, I had a G&T, to help me sleep and headed for the lee berth at 8pm but as usual, I couldn't sleep. The batteries weren't holding their charge again, so we were having to run the engine for two hours in every four, through the night. At the change of watch, Pete said there were no other vessels in sight but as soon as I entered the cockpit I spotted lights, in the distance, off the starboard quarter. I completed a 360 degree visual and then concentrated on the lights. AS they grew closer, I could make out the two white lights of a ship over fifty metres long and the lower light was to the left, meaning the ship was going in the same direction as us. It kept me interested, between alround checks, for a good while. It never showed up on AIS so must have been at least 3 miles away. There was a half moon and no cloud, which was illuminating the sea very nicely. The swell wasn't too big and the wind was around 15 knots, making for a comfortable sail. At 1120 hours, I spotted a single white light ahead and slightly off to port. We were not too far from Cartagena, so my first thought was that this could be a small fishing vessel. I watched the light and determined that the boat was heading in the same general direction as us and at a similar speed, so it was more likely another yacht or catamaran. Eventually, I could occasionally see another white light, not far ahead of the original light. Was this yet another yacht, maybe smaller, with the light disappearing in the swell? I was wrong again. I could now see both white lights all of the time, the aft one higher, so it was another ship over fifty metres long, coming ever so slightly across our bow but moving rather slowly. The ship was still there when Pete came on watch later. The moon set, a burnt orange colour, at 0051 hours and with the darkness, I was treated to some pretty phosphoressence, in our bow and stern waves, the lights dancing over the water. My night watch had passed quickly and surprisingly pleasantly. I alerted Pete to the ships in the distance on our port side and climbed into the bunk, hoping for a decent sleep, as the ride was now fairly comfortable. Pete doesn't make notes about his watch, just fills in the log book, so I have nothing to report from his watch, other than I didn't get much sleep, despite Pete leaving me in bed an extra 90 minutes.
The sky was growing lighter with the impending dawn, as I started my second 'night' watch. I soon spotted the lights of a ship, directly ahead of us but still many miles away. Then the lights disappeared as he turned then off, a little too early for my liking. The sun rose behind me but wasn't visible for a while due to low cloud on the horizon but with the daylight, I was able to pick out the shape of the ship on the horizon. I watched expectantly for the shape to cross our bows but the ship didn't appear to be moving. It couldn't be anchored as the water was 2800 metres deep. Eventually it appeared on AIS and was reported as under engine. The CPA (closest proximity of approach) was veering from 1.5 miles to 200 metres and back again, as we rode the following swell. Then the AIS signal disappeared, so I had no choice but to change to a more northerly course and pass around the stern of the ship, which was inconvenient. About 1.5 miles out, the ship came back on AIS and I have no idea why they had turned it off. I passed behind the ship and reverted to our original course, adjusting slightly for the detour.
While Pete was still snoring, I had a visit from a large pod of dolphins who were using the boat to help with their hunt for fish. The fish tend to jump away from the bow wave. Dolphins raced like spears towards the boat from the starboard quarter, while others on the port side and off the bow jumped in the air, spinning and slapping their tail fins, presumably stunning the fish. When the dolphins jumped, I could see they had pink and turquoise speckled underbellies, a species I had not encountered before. The dolphins stayed for well over an hour, so Pete also managed to see them when he awoke. I went back to bed for an hour, as I felt worn down by lack of sleep.
We had covered a useful 68.9 miles in our first 12 hours of passage and 73.2 in the second 12 but this would fall to around 63 for each of the next 12 hours, as we headed west and the wind dropped off. This had been expected, along with a reduction in swell. However, the swell was up and down, sometimes slight but with 3m rollers thrown in for periods. The current seemed to be pushing us north and with the light winds, we were struggling to stay on course, after the detour to avoid the ship, so we put the engine on from midday to 2pm, to help with speed and direction. Pete went for a nap and I was sitting in the cockpit on the port side, facing the stern, when I was hit by a flying fish, which made me shriek. It was a beautiful, irridescent blue and silver and it was sitting in my lap, wriggling frantically. They are renowned for stinking, so I picked it up by the tail, using a pair of shorts and flung it overboard.
We had planned to anchor overnight in San Blas, on our way to Linton Bay, Panama but with our reducing speed we risked arriving there in the dark, which is not recommended with the shallow reefs, so at 1800 hours, we reluctantly changed course again to head directly to Linton. This would mean a third night at sea, with almost 175 miles to cover instead of 115. I headed off to the lee berth at 7pm, feeling a bit despondent and I still didn't sleep.
At 10pm, Pete again reported no ships in sight but my first 360 degree visual spotted two white lights to port. Eventually I could see lights in windows along the full length of the vessel, so took it to be a passenger ship. We passed it quickly so it must have been idling. Just before I completed my watch, the wind picked up, along with the swell and for the first hour of my downtime I was thrown around like a ragdoll in my bunk and then, as things calmed, I slept, on and off and Pete woke me just before 6am, having pulled a five hour watch (bless him).
I let Pete sleep for as long as he needed and I passed the time monitoring the ships that were crossing our bow. Container ships look enormous when only 0.75 miles distant! Pete surfaced just before 10am and noted that I still had the engine on. We had barely any wind and would be bobbing around, going nowhere without it. We had had a look at our options. We could continue to Linton and slow down to avoid arriving in the dark in the early hours of tomorrow morning, or we could take a more southerly course, leave the engine on and arrive in Holland Cays, San Blas around teatime. We chose option two and increased the engine revs. The sea was pretty flat, so we did the change of courtesy flags, removing the flag of Colombia and replacing it with the Panamanian flag and the yellow Q flag, as we would be anchoring overnight without clearing in. At 1125, I saw a Portuguese Man of War passing the boat with its bright pink sail. We spotted another two later on. We refuelled the diesel tank from cans, while the going was calm and then had lunch - cheese spread on biscuits, with a small can of beer. This resulted in a carb coma for me and I fell asleep on the cockpit floor for an hour. By 1545 hours we could just make out the dim shape of very low islands in the distance and an hour later we were really closing in on our destination. We could see masts everywhere behind and between the tree-covered, little islands. Using the chart plotter for navigation, we eased by the first big reef and cut across an area which was shown as being 10-20 metres deep. The depth sounder suddenly shot down to 3.4m and then to 1.5m and we did a 180 degree turn to go back and circle round wider. We now knew that we couldn't trust the electronic charts in this area. We progressed slowly, watching the depth guage as well as keeping a look out for gently breaking water and changing colours, which might denote shallow water. There looked to be plenty of space in the anchorage but once inside, most of the lagoon was at least 15 metres deep, much deeper than we like to anchor in. We cruised around slowly and eventually found a space where we could drop in 2m of water but it was rather close to the reef. The anchor didn't catch the first time, so had to be raised to have another go. The second time it caught. We turned the engine and instruments off and fitted the bridle to the chain. The batteries were flat again after raising the anchor, so there would be no fans in use tonight. The France Digicel sim was showing as connected but only with H+ and there was insufficient signal to even receive notifications. Hopefully friends and family could see us on Marine Traffic if we had been picked up on AIS. We had a couple of G&Ts in the cockpit, ate dinner and went to bed. We had the mosquito nets in due to the risk of 'no see ums'. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the cabin and no rocking, making it very comfortable and we both went out like a light.

Having returned from our trip to Cartagena, our focus was now on our passage to Panama. This involved numerous trips to the various supermarkets to provision, starting with bottled and tinned items and finishing off with fresh and frozen food on the final day prior to departure. As we don't have a freezer, it's necessary to buy food which is vacuum packed and well-dated, which usually means smoked, cured or preserved products like bacon, sausages, minced beef and cheese. We also needed to have our camping gas bottle refilled and make sure our diesel tank and 4 spare diesel cans were full. As we had to give immigration and the marina 48 hours to leave, we were constantly checking the weather forecast to determine the best time to sail. Once we had given notice, there was no opportunity to change the time or the destination, which isn't very accommodating for sailors. Other chores included washing the boat and a final round of laundry and a bedding change. It wasn't all work though, as we visited the pool at the AC Hotel some afternoons, went to our favourite restaurants again (Done Chucha Gourmet; Reses 13; Ouzo) and had drinks at Cambiante (marina bar) with friends, old and new, including Shane & Mickey, Hugh & Debbie, Adam & Bev and Grant & Annie. It was also Carnaval in Santa Marta, so the city was buzzing with people and music.
We decided to depart on Wednesday 5th March, so went into the office to see Yerlis and complete the departure forms at 8am on Monday. We selected Linton as our destination in Panama. On Tuesday, late afternoon, we unplugged the shore power and water, so the marina could take readings and we could settle our invoice to avoid any delays tomorrow. We also completed the first step of our application for a Panama cruising permit.
On Wednesday morning, we were up with the lark and waiting outside the marina office before 8am. They took our passports, gave us our Colombia cruising permit, which lasts for 1 year and told us to return in an hour, when immigration would be ready to clear us out. How can it take an hour for them to stamp our passports? We went to Cambiante for a coffee while we waited. At 0850 hours we were admitted to the immigration office (it looked like they had just arrived) where they stamped our passports and provided 2 copies of the zarpe (exit / entry papers) for Panama. We returned to the boat and 15 minutes later, Shane and Mickey helped us slip our lines and we departed the marina. Unfortunately the wind was blowing from the southwest, so we were head to wind leaving Santa Marta and heading out to sea. We remained under engine and rolled with the swell, which was more or less on our beam. The tide was also against us. It wasn't the start that we wanted or expected, given the forecast for north east winds. Then we had company, in the form of the Colombian Navy, in a big, battered, grey rib. They pulled alongside to ask for the boat name, then backed off and seemed to say that we could continue on our way. At this point, having left the shelter of the bay, we had enough wind and raised the mainsail. Five minutes later the Navy were back and said they wanted to come on board to do an inspection. They waited while we lowered the sail and then attempted to come alongside, while we were still beam on to the 2m swell and they didn't come slowly either. The result was that they rose on a wave as we dipped and their boat came down on top of our starboard side, ripping out one of the stanchions, kinking the guardrail and putting a dent in the deck and the teak toe rail. They also scraped the hull but that should polish out. We signalled that we were returning to Santa Marta to assess the damage, which they were unhappy about. They stayed beside us for the 50 minutes it took for us to motor back and constantly tried to persuade us to turn around and continue on our journey. We steadfastly refused, as our safety was compromised. We tried to contact the marina on VHF channel 72 but didn't get a response, so we pulled onto the fuel berth and Pete asked the attendant to contact Sebastian. The Navy boat pulled in behind us and called their supervisor. Sebastian acted as translator while we discussed the incident and a lieutenant from the Navy arrived who spoke good English. Eventually, it was determined that the boys on the Navy boat, not the Navy itself, would have to pay for the damage to be repaired and a contractor would be with us after 2pm, as everyone was going away for their 2 hour lunch break. Shane, Mickey and their Colombian, ex-Navy friend, Manny, arrived with beer. Manny asked if we had called the port authority on channel 16 before we left, which we hadn't, as nobody had mentioned that we should. That was apparently why the Navy wanted to carry out an inspection. Adam, who was in the yard on Blu, brought us mango with salt and lime, a refreshing snack, as we weren't allowed to leave the dock and it was very hot. Surprisingly, at 2pm, 2 men arrived to repair the stanchion and re-fix it to the deck. The Navy lieutenant also returned to monitor proceedings, took photos of all our papers and passports and asked if we would consider contributing to the cost of the repairs, which was around £54, as it was a lot of money for the 4 boys to incur. We contributed our last 70,000 pesos and unbeknown to me, Pete also gave them US$30, so we more or less paid the bill ourselves. We felt it was unfair of the Navy to make the boys pay when it was their supervisor that insisted they board our boat in unsuitable conditions. With the repairs completed and a pretty good job done, we motored out to the bay to anchor for the night, as we weren't allowed to stay on marina premises, having cleared out. We had 24 hours from our initial clearance time of 8am, to depart and we confirmed to the Navy and the marina that we would be gone at first light on Thursday. We had intended to spend a night at anchor outside the marina at Valero, to reduce the number of night sails but this wouldn't be possible now. During the night, the swell was hitting the beam of the boat and we were rolling from side to side, especially for 2 hours from midnight, so we didn't really get the sleep we needed and so ended a bad day at the office.

It would have been Dad's 86th birthday today, 22nd February, so I had thoughts of him when the alarm went off at 0615 hours. We had booked Viktor to pick us up at 7am, outside the marina, to take us to the Santa Marta transport terminal, about 7kn outside the town. We waited until 7.15am before deciding that he had forgotten about the booking and walked the short distance to the Marriott Hotel, where we knew there would be taxis waiting. We agreed a price of 20,000 pesos for the short ride. On arrival, I managed to understand and respond to questions, in Spanish, regarding whether we already had tickets and which provider they were with and we were directed to the Brasilia desk to check in, much as you would at an airport. We presented passports and tickets and were met with a stream of rapid Spanish. Luckily, a guy (Lewis) at the next desk jumped in to assist us. Our 8.30am bus would not be leaving until 9.30am but there was space on the 0730 bus which would also be leaving up to 1 hour late. We were offered 2 seats apart, which we declined but this was followed up with 2 seats together, right at the back, on the right hand side. I prefer this side of the bus, as the view is not obscured by traffic going the other way and as we were heading south, would hopefully have a sea view. New tickets in hand, we settled down in the waiting room until we saw our bus pull in. The bus left at 0815, so we were ahead of our expected schedule. The coach was very comfortable, with big, plush, reclining seats and a little bit of aircon. Pete was soon asleep while I watched the world go by. The surf on the beaches north of Baranquilla was ferocious and there were large, well-worn logs all over. They come down the river through Baranquilla, along with dead cows, old sofas and other detritus and are a well known hazard to sailors passing by, such that the advice is to stay at least 6 miles off the coast. The 'express' bus made several stops around the city, picking up and dropping off customers, then headed inland and across country towards Cartagena. All along the roadside and in the hedgerows there was rubbish. We passed through small towns, slowing now and again to pick up street vendors who came aboard to sell arepas and drinks or to spout at everyone, before jumping off at the next town. We passed into cattle country, with fincas and haciendas along the roadside, where there were small lakes. There were trees with beautiful yellow flowers and then a burnt out bus teetering half on and half off the road. After 5 hours and 10 minutes, we arrived at the transport terminal, 14 km outside of Cartagena, the journey taking 40 minutes longer than advertised. I doubt that the bus ever managed the trip in less than 5 hours, as there are very few pieces of dual carriageway and lots of slow moving juggernauts. In the bus station, I paid 1200 pesos to use the public toilet. Toilet paper was extra and dispensed, by the sheet, from a machine on the wall. Luckily I had tissues. Taxi prices were posted on boards inside the station, so we knew that our ride should be 25,600. Our taxi said 30,000 but we didn't quibble. Cartagena was as frenetic on the roads as Santa Marta, with motorbikes and scooters weaving in and out of the traffic, across forecourts and in the wrong direction, with pillion passengers generally without helmets. Some bikes has husband, wife, child and dog on board. We reached the old town, where all the streets are one way and we jumped out at the top of our street, to save the taxi going around the block. He was lucky to pick up a fare back to the transport terminal immediately. Just before we reached our hotel, BHaus Boutique Hotel, Pete disappeared. There are no prizes for guessing that he had entered the bar across the street and was busy ordering beer. We sat at the open window, looking out onto the street, which was full of colour and noise. Our beers arrived; not the usual Aguilla or Club Colombia but craft beers. I found a menu and discovered we would be shelling out £20 for these 2. Ladies in long, swirling dresses in Colombian colours and with bowls of fruit on their heads were trying to entice Pete out to dance. I took a photo and money was demanded. I only had change and the lady wasn't happy. We would soon find that this is the way in Cartagena. It's a tourist city, unlike Santa Marta and everyone is in your face and after your money for something or nothing.
We walked across the road and checked into the hotel. Our room was very small, with a double bed, 2 bedside tables, a fridge, TV and small hanging rail and a shower room. It was a bit tired and need of some maintenance but we had a plentiful supply of hot water in the shower and the bed and pillows were extremely comfortable. The only window looked onto the small, central atrium, so the blind needed to be drawn but we had aircon to keep the room cool. We unpacked and had a quick refresh, before heading out.
Adam and Bev were already in Cartagena and messaged to meet them at a bar / restaurant in the area known as Getsemani, about 10 minutes walk from our hotel. The area is cheaper than the old town, very busy, noisy and colourful. The streets are festooned with bunting, flowers and umbrellas hanging overhead. We located Adam and Bev in El Cabildo, just finishing a late lunch. From there, the four of us went to the park to see the sloths, monkeys and hawks in the trees. Years ago, the sloths had been kept in cages and were brought out for tourists to hold while they had their photo taken. Now they have been released and there are 8 sloths living in the trees. On the other side of the park there was a roller rink and children of all ages were skating round, most wearing vests for a particular club. As we watched, 2 very small, young girls stopped beside us and said hello and how are you? Then they opened their shoulder bags and tried to sell us their popcorn. The hustling here starts at a very young age. Adam and Bev left to go to a cooking class they had booked and we returned to the hotel via the Exito supermarket, where we bought a pack of beer and a bottle of wine, for the fridge. We showered and changed and returned to El Cabildo for dinner, eating filet mignon for a mere £12 each. We wound our way back to the hotel, through the colourful streets of Getsemani, Central and the Old Town, ignoring the menus, trinkets, drinks and cigars that were pushed in front of our faces. It's a well known fact that the tobacco sellers are actually selling drugs, from weed to cocaine. Hardly anyone in Colombia smokes. Back at the hotel, we took a beer and wine onto the rooftop and sat beside the small pool for half an hour before going to bed. We slept extremely well.
Breakfast at the hotel was a la carte, from a limited menu. Fruit, coffee, fresh orange juice and lovely, soft focacia bread came with each menu choice. I chose an omelette and Pete had avocado on toast. Our first stop this morning was the park, so Pete could take photos of the animals with the Nikon. From there, we visited one of the main squares before crossing the road towards the waterfront, taking photos of various buildings, monuments and sculptures. We followed the water down towards the marina and saw Miocene (Mitch and Avi) at anchor, although there was nobody on board. It was getting extremely hot, so we moved off into the narrow streets and soon came across a pretty little square, with 2 small restaurants and tables in the middle. It was peaceful and shady, so we decided to take cover and have a drink. We ordered a bottle of crisp, cold sauvignon blanc and later ordered ribs for lunch. There was a cruise ship in harbour and a walking tour passed through the square, bringing with them the beggars, rapping buskers and trinket sellers. We declined all wares and they moved on, returning the square to peace. Having had our fill, we ambled back to the hotel, via the old city walls and the old town and spent the afternoon in and around the pool, which we had to ourselves, save for a vulture that came down for a drink. The pool was very small and its surroundings needed tidying up but at least it was cool. We had dinner at La Vieja Guardia, on the edge of the old town, near the city walls and a bit off the tourist track, where we weren't bothered by anyone selling anything. We enjoyed conversing with the couple on the next table, who were from the sticks outside Ottawa. They weren't enjoying Cartagena, which they found too busy, touristy and expensive. They were based here for 3 weeks but had cut their stay by a week and were going to Uruguay instead.
On our second full day, we walked along the old town walls, descending now and again to visit squares, monuments and sculptures. The we traversed all the streets of the old town, backwards and forwards, taking photos of all the door knockers, for which Cartagena is famous. We grabbed a slice of pizza for lunch, at the ridiculous price of £1.80, including a bottle of Sprite and returned to our seemingly private pool, to cool down. On our way to dinner, we walked around Getsemani, just to overload our senses with the atmosphere, the noise, colour, hustle and bustle. We ate steak at La Tagina, along with a good bottle of red, served by a true sommelier. I didn't sleep well that night, as there was a lady with a very loud, high-pitched voice and earth-shattering laugh, in the bar downstairs, until after 2am.
On Tuesday we had to be up early and at breakfast by 7.30am, in order to catch the bus back to Santa Marta. There had been a rain shower and the pavements were damp. Because we were early and the only ones in the restaurant, all of our food and drink arrived at once, the meal felt rushed and made me feel uncomfortable. We collected our bags, checked out and walker down the street to find a taxi. The first taxi wanted 40,000 pesos, so we sent him on his way and he was replaced within seconds by another yellow cab. This one wanted 30,000, the correct price, so we climbed in. It was rush hour and the city roads were packed. The buses have their own lane, so that's the best way to travel. The inside lane has everything from taxis, cars and scooters to donkeys with carts and hand-pushed carts. It was absolute chaos and we were glad we weren't driving ourselves. We arrived in plenty of time, checked in for the bus and sat in the waiting room. Here we were approached by the tourist police, who warned us about taxi drivers that might rip us off and wanted to know about our experiences. The bus arrived on time and we climbed on board, taking our seats near the back, on the left hand side, this time. We seemed to be making good progress but the journey was uncomfortable, with the driver speeding up behind other vehicles then braking hard. The aircon wasn't working very well and I started to feel queasy and hot. I managed to get some air and recover a bit, in the toilet, where there was a small, open window. We made it to the transport terminal in Baranquilla, where we stopped for about 40 minutes, with no idea what the hold up was. Eventually we set off and headed across the suspension bridge to the causeway through the mangroves. We saw herons, vultures and pelicans. With the polarising tint on the bus windows, the sea and sky were amazing shades of blue and turquoise. The surf wasn't as high on the beaches today, as the wind had calmed. I pointed out the logs on the beaches to Pete, as he'd missed them going south. We could see the mountains behind Santa Marta now and were looking forward to getting off the bus. After 6 hours, we arrived and picked up a taxi for 13,000 pesos back to the marina. I was desperately tired and weary, so we had a quick tea at La Fresca (not to be recommended) and had an early night.

There was a mass exodus of yachts and catamarans on the 16th February, as a decent but not perfect weather window had opened up. The evening prior, we had a drink with Graham and Ai, who were departing at 6am. Nobody knows how they got clearance to leave, as everyone else had to go through immigration in the morning and they didn't open until 8am. Nobody would have appreciated the loud music which played all night, even if it made a change from the howling of the wind. The two Danish boats (Rainbow was one) got away first, although not as early as they would have liked, Gael and Cecile were next and Mitch and Avi didn't depart until after 11am. Others anchored out also managed to get away early. We heard from Mitch and Avi, after they arrived in Cartagena, that the swell had still been quite high and rolling. Everyone else was heading to Panama, a longer sail.
After lunch, we headed to the pool at the Marriott and for once there wasn't a ripple, as there was no wind. There was a DJ and the music was extremely loud. I enjoyed it, especially the salsa beats but Pete wasn't best pleased. On our return, Pete did the laundry while I showered and washed my hair. Doing the laundry involves the drinking of beer, as the bar is close to the machines, which you need to keep an eye on, so Pete doesn't mind this chore. I joined him and then we were joined by Hugh and Debbie and Hugh's colleague, Nick. Pete and I returned to Ouzo for dinner. Most of the locals wear white when they go out in the evening, so I wore my all white, lacy designer dress; a bargain from a charity shop in Yarm. Overnight, there was again no wind.
On Monday, having failed to find any in the local shops, I ordered new walking sandals, for both of us, from Amazon for delivery to the marina. Pete had been persuaded to go diving in the afternoon with Hugh, Debbie and Nick, so in the morning he took his demand valve and computer over to the shop for servicing and a new battery respectively. There was laughter at his 40 year old kit, for which parts are no longer available. Pete would need to hire kit for the dive. Everyone left at 1.30pm and I headed to the captains' lounge to progress my Spanish and write a blog. At 1730 hours, the divers had not returned and the sun was getting ready to set. Should I be concerned? 20 minutes later, as I sat in our cockpit, I heard the unmistakeable sound of dive cylinders clanking as they were lifted from a boat. They were back and meeting in the bar at 6pm. They had been to the famous Taranga Park to dive and had actually done two dives, not one. Nobody seemed pleased with the quality of the dives though, from bad visibility to a lack of sea-life and bad dive management by the dive guide. Following a quick drink (smoothie for me), the five of us headed to Magdalena for dinner. It was very upmarket and there was a live band playing but it was still inexpensive. I stuck to water, being a Monday. The wind blew overnight, until 2am, when someone flicked the off switch.
On Tuesday we awoke to find that there was no power and no water on the dock, or anywhere in the marina complex. The day was taken up chatting with various friends and an afternoon trip to the pool. There was no wind again and it remained calm overnight.
Wednesday we went to Vivolo Cafe for breakfast and I had the biggest chocolate croissant I have ever seen. It's a shame that the coffee wasn't as good here as it is at Brot. To Pete's dismay, I spotted a flyer about events at Vivolo, which included a salsa and samba night on Thursdays. After provisioning at Exito, the big supermarket (you can even buy a motor-scooter there), we headed to a cervicheria for Pete to have some lunch. I wasn't hungry. The afternoon was spent researching Panama clearance protocols and places. Panama Cruisers and San Blas Cruisers Facebook groups provided plenty of answers but not many of them agreed. The day ended with most of our friends around the bar at Cambiante. It only takes one person to sit down there for everyone passing by to end up there. It continued to be calm overnight.
Thursday was all about the navigation and clearance options for Panama, San Blas and then the onward journey to the Bay Islands of Honduras and we eventually have a list of available options that we can make decisions on nearer the time. San Andreas, Providencia (both Colombian islands), Grand Cayman and the Swan Islands, off Nicaragua all have potential for stop offs along the otherwise long route, as it's necessary to keep away from the shallow water and reefs which stretch up to 100 miles off the northern Nicaraguan and Honduran coasts. We had lunch at Lulo and I discovered that I don't like arepas, a local corn-based pattie that comes filled or topped with anything and everything. To me, the pattie tasted like it had been made with sour milk, so I just ate the topping of chicken, salad and salsa. In the evening, along with Shane and Mickey, we went to check out the salsa night at Vivolo. It turned out to be a class and very basic. We joined in for 10 minutes but it was too hot and we were getting sweaty, so we left and went to Reses 13 for dinner. They had salsa playing there too, so I had a little dance while the boys were paying the bill. The four of us had a final beer on board Muirgen, before we headed to bed, ready for our early start to Cartagena tomorrow. It was calm again, overnight.

Tuesday ended with a fabulous sunset, followed by a G&T on board, which helped put me to sleep, as the wind was howling, as usual. We didn't need to be at the marina gates until at least 9.30am, so we left our packing until the morning.
Viktor came for us at 10am and we set off through the busy streets of Santa Marta, with the usual crazy motorcycles weaving in and out of the traffic, with no care for their safety. The driver may have a helmet but any passengers, wives, girlfriends, children, babies or dogs, did not. Bikes even drive down the wrong side of the road, mount kerbs and take shortcuts through shop frontages. Once outside of the city, we started to climb and wind our way up into the mountains, the car struggling at times when the road became steep. Faster vehicles screamed past us, even on corners. The views became spectacular, as we gained altitude and on one corner we could see Santa Marta, way below us on the coast. Up ahead, we could see groups of huts on stilts, some of the eco cabins, in the jungle, where you can stay. We had opted for a small hotel 700 metres from the town centre. Viktor drove us into Minca, turning right after the river bridge and right again onto the road to our hotel, which deteriorated to the point where we said we would get out and walk the rest of the way. It wasn't far and our bags weren't heavy as we had packed the bare minimum for a two night stay. Pete's clothes and toiletries fitted in the top of his camera bag! I had a 20 litre capacity rucksack.
It was only 11.15am and check in wasn't until 3pm but we were welcomed at reception, where they took photocopies of our passports, allowed us to pay for the accommodation and put our bags in storage. There were two big Akitas and we were told not to feed them or pet them. They were there for security. I wasn't particularly comfortable around them but they seemed to be harmless is you ignored them. The bar was open and food would be available from noon, so we took a seat, overlooking the pretty river. Pete was ecstatic about the location and the view and excited to take photos; slow exposures of water, using the tripod. Birds and butterflies flitted around and we found a massive golden webber / golden orb weaver spider, in its web at the end of the bar. We doused ourselves in insect repellent, as there were mosquitos and other insects around. We had a beer and reviewed the menu, ordering patacones (flattened plantains, fried and topped with meat) and chicharrones (small pieces of fried pork belly), both popular Colombian snacks. The food was great and plentiful.
After lunch, we walked back up the hill to explore the little town. Other than the main road up into the mountains, the roads were uneven concrete covered in sand. There were little shops selling a limited range of drinks and groceries, souvenir shops, tour companies, restaurants and bars. Motorcycles were the main form of transport and buzzed up and down the streets. We stood on the bridge over the river for a while, watching the birds and the butterflies and spied a few terraces overlooking the river, downstream, so we found one and had a beer, passing the time until we could officially check in. The bar was very colourful, which pastel coloured stairs and painted murals on the walls but the food didn't look anything to write home about, so we made a note not to eat there during our stay.
Back at Casa de Hadas, Pete extended our stay to three nights, such was his love for the place. We completed check in, paid for the extra night and headed to room 7, on the upper floor, overlooking the pretty courtyard. Although the room was a deluxe double, it was pretty basic, although clean and the bed was comfortable. We had aircon and a ceiling fan but there was no hot water supply, not that it's a problem in the heat. Having unpacked, we headed to the bar for happy hour. It was 2 for 1 on house cocktails, so I ordered the Don Jose, which seemed to be a pineapple margarita and was delicious. Pete ordered a bucket of 6 beers, for 36000 pesos but was upset when it turned out that happy hour beers are only 210ml, not 330. Money was saved but it wasn't the deal expected. Nelson, behind the bar, asked whether we would like to go bird watching, something we had planned to do, so he arranged it with his friend, stating that we would need to meet at the church at 6am next morning. Pete joked that he didn't know there were to 6 o'clocks in a day. We sat overlooking the river and were lucky enough to see an Andean red squirrel jumping from branch to branch in a tree. We were surprised to see one in Minca as it's a much lower altitude than the Andes but our bird watching guide would confirm our identification next morning. Another guest alerted us to the presence of a dragon lizard in the crevice of the tree just in front of the bar. It was very well camouflaged.
Still in shorts and tops and without showering, we had dinner. The lasagna wasn't available, so I had my second choice of salmon, glazed in mango sauce, which turned out to be delicious. Pete had the steak. We started chatting to Ronald and Nora, a US couple in their mid seventies. They had impressively walked the 5km uphill to the Marinka waterfall but had taken moto-taxis back down to the town. Ronnie joked that getting on and off the pillion was the hard part.
We had an early night and slept well, waking with the alarm at 0520 hours. Pete lingered in bed while I finished my ablutions. Walking up the hill to the town square, we shared a muffin purchased the day before, as we wouldn't have breakfast until after our trip. We passed Jungle Joe's tour office, where a large group of people were gathering, to go bird watching. We met our guide by the church and were pleased to find we were going to be a group of only four, us and two young Dutch ladies. Orto handed out binoculars and guide books and we headed to the river bridge, as dawn started to break. There we saw our first birds, with Orto pointing them out with a green laser. As yet we couldn't clearly see the colours. The big group from Jungle Joe's passed us noisily and headed off into the distance. Turning left, we walked up a hill. We thought we could hear frogs. Orto stopped and set up his scope, following the noise and then pointed out a toucan at the top of a tree. Through the binoculars you could see the shape of its impressive bill but it was still not light enough to make out the colours. We continued on, along a narrow, dirt path, stopping every so often as Orto picked up bird calls, then located the birds. It was now daylight and we could see the colours of the woodpeckers, hummingbirds, different finch type birds and the toucans. The chorus of sounds was amazing and we just had to stand there, in the wilderness and let the birds come to us. The strangest bird was a Whooping Motmot. It's green and yellow and has a tail which looks like a dangling leaf, which is used to attract insects, for eating. Its name comes from the whooping sound it makes. Two and a half hours passed in no time. We had seen 28 species of birds. There are 685 species in Minca and 2100 across Colombia. Pete managed to get photos with the Nikon and Orta took photos and videos for me, holding the phone's camera to the eye glass on his sight. The tour had been well worth the early start and the £15 per person. We arrived back at the hotel in time for breakfast.
We gave ourselves another dousing of insect repellent and headed down the road to visit the little waterfalls downstream from the hotel. Pete took some photos, standing knee deep in the river, with the camera and tripod. He got a couple of nice, slow water shots. Next we headed into town, then turned right, up the main road, heading for the bigger falls. Pete applied more repellent when his legs had dried off. Having walked for 30 minutes, uphill, we stopped at a small hotel with a cafe on the roadside. The view across the valley, to the mountains opposite was stunning. A French couple in the cafe were absolutely covered in mosquito bites. We picked up the hotel's wifi and Pete checked Google Maps to see how far we had to go to the waterfall. Probably about 10 minutes to Pozo Azul. I recognised that name but didn't think it was where we had set out to go. We set off again and arrived at the start of the Pozo Azul trail, where we were charged 6000 pesos (£1.25) each to enter. We followed the trail for about 20 minutes, arriving at a small waterfall, with a deep pool beneath it. There were further falls above, if you clambered up a steep and narrow path and over rocks. The place was quite busy and plastic chairs had been placed in the water in front of a makeshift cafe, which spoiled the natural beauty. I removed my trainers and socks and paddled across the river. A whistle blew and suddenly the majority of people were gone, obviously on an organised tour. We stripped to swimming gear and waded into the pool, taking a quick duck under when it was deep enough. The water was refreshingly cold but we soon acclimatised. After coming out of the water, I dried myself quickly and applied more repellent. I didn't want to have bites like the French couple. Pete can't have been quick enough because he was eaten alive. We made our way back along the trail and set off down the road back to Minca, making a diversion to the Veranda Hotel for lunch and there we bumped into Sally and Lauren, who had just arrived and checked in. What a coincidence. From the restaurant, we watched vultures soaring overhead. Having filled our bellies, we trudged the remaining distance down to Minca, with Pete's walking sandals slowly disintegrating. In the small town, we stopped at the Lazy Cat, where Pete had a large draft, craft lager and I had a Mojito, as the board outside advertised that as the daily cocktail special at 15,000 pesos. When the bill came it was 26,000 and the board had disappeared.
Back at Casa de Hadas we both showered and I washed my hair, while Pete went down for happy hour and to chat to Ronald. When I joined him he was looking disgruntled. The only beer on happy hour was now a local brew in 175ml bottles but the price was still the same. After the first bottle, he had cancelled the rest. Consequently, we went out for drinks and dinner, finding a lovely little place, Cattleya, on a dusty backstreet, upstairs. It was cheap and the food was delicious. Pete had arepas for the first time and really enjoyed it. During the night, Pete had the runs again but we don't believe it was the food. He also had terrible itching from the bites, so we had a disturbed night.
I allowed Pete to sleep in on Valentine's Day. I had breakfast in the hotel, while Pete had a glass of water, then we went out to buy electrolytes for him. He had taken both of the imodium tablets I had with me, so hopefully he would be ok. Ronald had told us where to go to get to the Marinka waterfall but we decided to go by moto-taxi, as it was 5km uphill, Pete only had flipflops now and was in no fit state to walk that far. I didn't enjoy the ride. My driver went far too fast and I was banging and bumping around and hanging on for dear life. Pete arrived at the Marinka trailhead 5 minutes after me, with a more considerate driver. The road up to Marinka was well kept but very steep. At the top, there was a booth for making payment, 16000 pesos each here. Everything was made from plastic bottle tops, signposts, chairs, bins and artistic models. Once through the booth we were on well maintained walkways leading to the upper and lower falls, a restaurant, bathrooms and changing rooms. There were nets along the way for relaxing on or sunbathing. Ronnie and Nora had said there were about 100 people there when they visited, so we were lucky to find no more than 10 people at each of the falls. These waterfalls were much more dramatic, falling from a height. Pete managed to get slow exposures at both falls, after waiting a while for people to exit the water. The lower fall had a manmade dam to create a pool for swimming but we didn't go in today. The surroundings were lovely, with colourful flora and fauna. There was a warning about snakes but we didn't see any. Having returned to the start of the trail, we took moto-taxis down to Cascada Oido del Mundo, about half way back to Minca. This was a small, tumbling waterfall, pretty rather than impressive. We walked back to Minca, slowly, as it was steep in parts, jarring the knees. I had a sandwich in town and we returned to the hotel, so Pete could have a siesta. At happy hour we went down to the bar, where we met Terry and Olga, who we recognised from the restaurant the previous evening. We joined them for dinner and drinks. I had the same cocktail as before and Pete chanced a couple of beers, it being over 24 hours since he had eaten. We both had the ribs, which were delicious and beautifully presented. It was a noisy night and our neighbours came in at 0245 hours, talking loudly and banging around, before keeping the headboard banging for a couple of hours. Pete was loose again.
After breakfast, we packed and checked out and were met by Viktor at the top of the street at 10am for the journey back to Santa Marta. As we descended the mountain, we were treated to a vulture swooping low right in front of the car; a beautiful sight. Back at the marina we met Adam who informed us that everyone was getting the runs, every few days and he told us what we needed to buy from the pharmacy. When we went there, it was right on the counter, on a little easel. Pete was right as rain three hours after taking it. The pharmacist also prescribed cream for the bites, sold us a repellent that works, as there's a fly in Minca that is immune to most and also sold us vitamin B1 and B12, plus yeast tablets, that we can take for a week before going to anywhere else with mosquitos. Apparently they don't like the smell you give off after taking the tablets.
We had really enjoyed our trip to Minca and would recommend staying there for at least 2 nights, rather than doing a day trip, which usually includes Marinka waterfall plus the coffee and cocoa farms.

The winds continued to blow in Santa Marta, usually easing between 1am and 3am and then picking up again after sunrise, blowing sand through the hatches and covering the boat inside and out.
Back on board we fell into a sort of routine; breakfast on board, daily provisioning, trips to the bank, doing the laundry and changing the bedding regularly, going out for dinner, drinks with friends and new acquaintances and Dualingo (just me). We both suffered bouts of the runs, Pete first and me 24 hours later. Fasting was required, which also helped us to lose a few pounds.
We met Graham and Ay, from New Zealand / Japan who, funnily enough, know people in Cass Bay, near Christchurch, where we have friends. At the marina bar, Cambiante, we chatted with Shane and Mickey, from Texas and we had regular catch ups with Richard and Eddie, Adam and Bev (Blu), Mitch and Avi (Miocene) and Hugh and Debbie. There was also the French, Gael and Cecile, with their young son. Next the Danes arrived; Rainbow and another yacht. They had actually suffered from too little wind on their crossing from Aruba but still had 40 mph winds and 3m waves on the final stretch. We all became a big, happy family of people who arrived in Santa Marta from the ABCs, with plans to head off to San Blas and / or Panama, in the near future.
We returned to Donde Chucha Gourmet, in the early evening this time, ahead of the queues. The food and wine were delicious and the visiting guitarists worth staying to listen to. However, with a table in the corner, against the wall, we were visited by cockroaches. We found a new favourite restaurant, Ouzo. Pete said the octopus (pulpo) was amazing. I had the oven baked pork, with apple, red cabbage and potatoes, which couldn't be faulted. We were seated next two lovely English girls, Sally and Lauren, who were travelling in Colombia for a few months.
Pete was inspired, by the colour of Santa Marta, to use his Nikon camera and we headed to the market to take photos. However, he then felt self-conscious, so I took the photos on my phone; brightly coloured fruits and vegetables and buckets of freshly caught fish. We bought a white fish and watched the lady fillet it and remove the scales. It served us for two meals and cost the princely sum of £4.
We managed to create an account to apply for our interview at the US Consulate in London and paid the fee of $185 each but when it came to scheduling the appointments, dates beyond May had not been released. Hopefully we can log in again in a month or so, without paying the fees again.
We needed to plan and book our next trip and decided on Medellin, which would require us to fly from the airport in Santa Marta. Medellin is a city in a valley at altitude and is supposed to be very pretty and famous for the drug lord, Pablo Escobar. About 1.5 hours away, is Guatape, a strange, high hill, with a river and a village decorated with mosaics. We chose a hotel and then went about booking the flights, a cinch at £40 return per person. However, each time I completed the booking and submitted payment details, I was greeted with the message, 'Failed to book flight. Please try again.' I went through the process 7 or 8 times, using different credit and debit cards and each time, the price had increased. Eventually, I gave up and we decided to visit Minca instead, booking Casa de Hadas for two nights. We decided to take a taxi, as the road is twisty and rough and the little bus is reported to be cramped, sweaty and uncomfortable. Juan our friendly taxi driver quoted 130,000 pesos for a one way trip, which was way over the expected charge, so he probably didn't want to go there. Katherine at Cambiante phoned a friend of hers, Viktor and he said he would take us for 80,000; deal! We arranged to be picked up at the marina around 9.30 to 10am on Wednesday.