Born of the Sea

Preparing for a phased retirement on the sea. Muirgen (Gaelic for 'born of the sea')

08 February 2025 | Palomino, Colombia
04 February 2025 | Santa Marta, Colombia
30 January 2025 | Aruba to Santa Marta
17 January 2025 | Bonaire
10 January 2025 | Spanish Bay, Curacao
03 January 2025 | The Caribbean Sea
16 December 2024
02 December 2024 | Bequia, SVG
28 November 2024 | Union Island, SVG and Mayreau, SVG
26 November 2024 | Tyrell Bay, Carriacou
22 November 2024 | Paradise Beach, Carriacou
15 November 2024 | The Cove, Grenada
10 November 2024 | The Cove Marina
04 November 2024 | London and Grenada
27 May 2024 | Saint George's, Grenada
26 May 2024 | Ile de Ronde, Grenada
21 May 2024 | Tyrell Bay, Carriacou
14 May 2024 | Union Island, SVG

3 Nights in Palomino

08 February 2025 | Palomino, Colombia
Donna Cariss
We were up early, had a quick breakfast and headed to the bank to withdraw cash, as there are no ATMs in Palomino and the hotel charged an extra 10% to pay by card. The first place ran out of cash and shut down, after we had withdrawn 600,000 pesos, so we had to detour, on our way to the bus stop, to find another one. We located several in a little square in what appeared to be the commercial district. Having withdrawn another 1.2 million (it's easy to be a millionaire here), we set off again, weaving through the narrow streets until we hit the market. The place was full of noise and colour and would be well worth taking photos but the local bus to Palomino had just pulled in, so we jumped on, found two seats and stowed our bags on the overhead rack. The bus waited for around 15 minutes, until it was almost full, while we sweated, drinking lots of ice cold water, purchased from the stall by the bus. The journey took around two hours, making frequent stops to pick up and drop off local people who lived or worked along the route. There were probably only 6 or 8 tourists on board, heading for Palomino, so I guess many people took the Brasilia private bus instead, which takes half the time but takes the challenge and the interest out of the ride. We passed by the famous Taranga Park, which is supposed to be very beautiful, both inland and on the coast. However, glimpses of the sea told us it was very rough out there, with a big swell and waves breaking on the shore. We also passed through a beautiful area of market gardens, with stunning flowers and shrubs growing on both sides of the roads. The many little villages along the road were filled with the smell of food, fresh baking bread, smoking sausages and other street delicacies. At each stop, local vendors would board the bus to sell drinks, food and other local goods. It made for an entertaining trip, although we both had a numb backside by the time we arrived in the sandy town of Palomino. We climbed off the bus and were approached by young men offering rides to our hotel. We could take a tuk tuk or a moto taxi, basically ride pillion on a small motorbike, with no helmet. We chose to have a thirst quenching beer in the nearest bar and then walk the kilometre to out hotel. The roads were unmade, with a thick layer of sand, many potholes and thick braided ropes across which acted as speed bumps. They were busy with motorcycles, tuk tuks, trucks and other vehicles. Half way there, the side strap on my walking sandal detached itself from the sole, so was hanging on by the ankle strap, which was annoying. Nothing lasts for long in this climate. We came to a junction and turned right and approached the first shops and cafes of Palomino downtown. Everything was vegan, plant-based, yoga or a craft workshop and the majority of people we passed had braids, tattoos and body piercings. Pete said that I had brought him to a new age hippie commune. At the crossroads, we took a left and as we were early to check into our hotel, we stopped at an outdoor bakery, under the trees for beer and a pork and cheese sandwich. Having had our fill, we continued down the road. There were shops selling clothes, local crafts and souvenirs and provisions, as well as small bars, restaurants, bakeries, hostels and hotels. There was sand flying everywhere as traffic moved up and down the roads. We turned into our hotel, via the back gate, then found our way to the reception, walking down white stoned paths between 2 high, white-washed walls, which eradicated the dust and most of the noise. We were still early for our 3pm check in but the proprietors were in the office and were happy to admit us. They were French and spoke perfect English; a bonus, as hardly anyone speaks anything but Spanish. We completed the forms, paid the fees (£160 for 3 nights, including breakfast) and Junior, our host, took us to our villa, called Charlotte. At MAPUWI Villa and Suites, there are currently six villas, with between 3 and 5 double rooms. Each villa has a shared pool, kitchen, utility, two living areas and private wifi. It's clean, stunningly beautiful and very peaceful. Families or groups can book an entire villa, or individual rooms can be booked, as we had done. We had a duluxe double, which was a detached building in the far corner of the villa, overlooking the garden. We could just see the end of the pool, making it very private. The other two rooms in Charlotte were semi-detached and facing onto the pool. We had a super king sized bed, with aircon and fan, a massive shower and twin basins. There was a TV too, not that we would switch it on. We had struck gold. This boutique hotel was everything that was shown on Google and more. Even if Pete hadn't taken to Palomino immediately, we had found a perfect oasis in which to relax for a few days.
As we prepared to leave and explore, we met Paul, another Englishman, who was staying in room 2. We would briefly meet his partner, Ophelie, the next morning. We headed out to explore a little of the town and then the beach, the latter being narrow, somewhat dirty, crowded and with big rollers coming in. We had been told it wasn't suitable for swimming at this time of year but we had expected a prettier beach. It wasn't possible to walk east towards the quieter side and the river, as the surf was coming right up to the buildings. We retraced our steps, bought beer at a little shop and booked a tour to visit the indigenous people, tomorrow, before returning to the hotel to cool off in the pool. Part of the pool was only about 6 inches deep, before dropping off vertically to about 4 feet; perfect for sitting in the cool with a beer or for laying back, almost under the water. We had it all to ourselves for a couple of hours, before we headed indoors to shower and change for dinner, as the sun set.
Palomino looked very different in the dark, with fairy lights strung around and the glow and music coming from the shops, bars and restaurants. You could still feel the sand underfoot but it wasn't so visible. We headed in the opposite direction to the beach, looking for Justos, a restaurant where we had been told we could have steak. On the way, we went to the Zoo, a hostel with a pool and had happy hour drinks. For me, that was 2 mojitos for 30,000 pesos (£6). Justos was very welcoming and had a great atmosphere and great 80's music. As is usual here, there were a number of friendly dogs and cats roaming around, favouring those who had food on the table. Pete ordered the French Grill i.e. steak and fries and I had the seabass with brandy cream sauce and creamed potatoes. Both were delicious and the animals didn't get much from us. We paid the bill and slowly wandered back to the hotel, having a relatively early night. Everything was very quiet and it was great not hearing the wind ripping through and over the boat.
On Wednesday morning we were awoken early by the dawn chorus, a cacophony of sound from some loud and tuneful species. We were ready for breakfast at 7.30am, as we were being picked up for our trip an hour later. There was a choice of three breakfasts, one cooked, one sweet and one healthy. All came with a bowl of fresh, seasonal fruit, tea or coffee and juice. Pete had the eggs, scrambled with onions and tomatoes and topped with crispy bacon, which was accompanied by 3 slices of focacia. I was decadent and had the sweet lovers; pancakes with chocolate and mandarin sauce, accompanied by a chocolate brownie. Even I couldn't eat all that sweet stuff at this time in the morning. At 0830, two moto taxis arrived to pick us up; no helmets. We climbed aboard and hung on while they negotiated the unmade street, up to the main road, where we climbed off and presented our tour voucher. Then they indicated that we should climb aboard again. We were dismayed but thought perhaps we were taking a short ride to meet another group and would then continue by jeep or other vehicle. That wasn't the case and we rode, at great speed, along the main road, for around 20 minutes, being passed by juggernauts and express buses. I was scared sh*tless! We were wearing shorts, linen shirts, baseball hats and flipflops and had rucksacks on our backs. If we came off, we were curtains. Lesson learned - ask about mode of transport when booking a tour. We stopped at a shop to buy water and some bags of cookies for the kids and then we turned off the main highway and onto the unmade road, up into the mountains and I began to relax. We weren't travelling fast, due to the terrain and there was plenty to see; the river, indigenous people and villages, the mountains and scenery. Eventually we arrived at Tungueka and were met by a local tribesman, assigned to manage tourists. We were the only two people here, other than our drivers. We were taken around the village, about 200 huts, housing 800 people, mostly families of four. As we moved around, children came running, to take advantage of the cookies and some of their mothers came too. There were no men around, as they were all out working, either locally, or in the town. The huts were built with wooden frames, made from tree branches and most were covered in a mud daub but some of the newer ones used woven reeds. All had reeds for the roof and dirt floors inside. There were no beds or even mats to sleep on. Everyone wore the same clothes, impractical white tunics, trousers for the older women. Surprisingly, there was solar power in the village. We heard modern pop music, which was coming from the supermarket and there was a small hospital too. We were taken down to the river, a sacred place where the people hold their rituals and sacrifices. Along the way we saw many leaf-cutter ants, making their paths across our path and there were butterflies, lizards and dragonflies. The river tumbled around and over rocks and overhung with vines. It was a gorgeous place to be and we would have liked to stay longer. In the rainy season, it would be boiling with water, several metres higher than today. We retraced our steps, distributed the remaining cookies and said our farewells to the people. Then we returned to Palomino, on the motorcycles, meeting several jeeps and motorbikes heading towards the village. The return journey was less frightening, as the road was so much quieter. We were back at our hotel by 11.30am, having an early but much needed beer, sitting in the pool. The tour had been well worth the £25 each, especially having the village and people to ourselves.
Having cleaned up, we went in search of cerviche, which Pete wanted for lunch, finding shrimp in a local hostelry. I had crepes with beef teriyaki, which was also tasty. We bought a bottle of wine, from a shop but at Santa Marta restaurant price and spent the remainder of the afternoon relaxing in the pool. We met the Dutch couple from room 1, who were extremely nice and spoke perfect English. Paul and Ophelie, from room 2 had left and were soon replaced by another young couple who appeared to speak Spanish but kept themselves to themselves. We headed back to Juntos for dinner, where we both had the steak and this time it was even better then the night before. I didn't sleep well overnight, having tremendous pain in my triceps. I still don't know whether it was the Pilates, hanging on whilst on the motorbike or a combination of both but it continued for 2 to 3 days.
I decided to get up and head out to the pool just after 6am. I had a quick dip and then relaxed on a lounger with my book. It was delightful to watch the birds soaring over the pool, either drinking or picking off flies or mosquitos for breakfast. Next came a beautiful hummingbird, black and iridescent red, drinking the nectar from the orange lilies around the pool. It was so peaceful, sitting there on my own. Pete appeared around 8.30am, so we had a later breakfast. I had the sweet lovers again but Pete opted for healthy; yoghurt, granola and honey. We relaxed by the pool all morning, chatting to the Dutch couple, until they checked out at midday. Paninis at the French bakery for lunch were a mistake, cool and unappetising, so we tried again, with cerviche, fish bites and yuca fries, which taste just like potato but are probably lower in carbs. Then we returned to the pool. We decided to eat later tonight, especially having had lunch twice. We were relaxing in the room when a message came in. Adam and Beverley, from Blu, had just arrived and reception was closed for a while, as Junior was out for dinner. Pete let them in and they dumped their bags in our room, freshened up and we all went out for dinner. We tried somewhere new, with a vegetarian menu, as well as meat, as Bev is pescatarian, although we had planned to go there anyway, for a change. Bev had a lionfish burger and the rest of us had steak and Bev got the better deal. The steak was tough and came with a very small salad of wilted lettuce and a couple of cherry tomatoes. The food and drinks were overpriced and the service was slow. You win some, you lose some. We returned to the hotel, where Junior was waiting to check in Adam and Bev and as it turned out, they were in Charlotte, room 1, vacated by the Dutch at lunchtime. Tomorrow we would be leaving and Mitch, Avi and Amanda would take rooms 2 and 3, a happy group of friends with their own villa.
On Friday, we slept in until 8.15am, showered and went for breakfast. This time I had the eggs. The they closed the kitchen, for gas works, so Adam and Bev had to go elsewhere to eat. We packed our bags and I dumped by walking sandals in the bin. We returned our key and said goodbye, thanked Junior, our host and the owners and walked up to the main road for the local bus back to Santa Marta. The bus had just arrived, so we took the front seats, opposite the door, which was great for the breeze. Pete paid the 14,000 peso fare per person and eventually the bus departed. Passing one of the wide rivers, Pete saw a large, black cat crossing, possibly a panther. With traffic jams going into town, the return journey was 2 hours 15 minutes and we were glad to get off. After a 15 minute walk, we were in the cathedral area, hungry and thirsty, so paused to have lunch and beer at an Arabian restaurant. The food, a shrimp cocktail and a Caesar salad, were delicious. The waiter was from Palestine and said that his parents are still there, in the war zone, so we commiserated with him. We walked back to the boat, unpacked, then headed to the AC Hotel to use the pool, cool down and relax. We had tea on board; chicken and salad. Overnight it was seriously windy and we wished we were back at the MAPUWI hotel.

Settling into Santa Marta

04 February 2025 | Santa Marta, Colombia
Donna Cariss | Windy
As we stepped out of the marina gates, we were struck by the amazing vibe of Santa Marta and Colombia; lots of colour and loud, Latin music. I immediately wanted to dance, as the salsa beat grabbed me but alas, I had no partner, Pete not being one for dancing. There were people, everywhere, walking in couples or families and street vendors pushing laden carts around. As we were tired from our 2 day passage, we were out early for tea and not looking to explore. We headed to the opposite side of the marina, to a two story food court and found a small restaurant, Reses 13, doing steaks. It soon became apparent that hardly anyone in Colombia speaks anything other than Spanish and a local dialect at that. However, we knew exactly how to order beers and above the bar, there was a helpful diagram of a cow, showing the cuts of meat. We ordered a 400g sirloin steak (strip loin in US speak), with fries and sauces, to share. It was delicious. During dinner, we watched a gorgeous sunset and the appearance of the new moon. The final bill was 94,000 pesos, approximately £23.50, including the optional 10% service charge. The waiter had managed to tell us the exchange rate was around 4000 pesos to the dollar and Revolut gave me just over 5000 pesos to the pound. Having returned to the boat, we set our watches back an hour, for the time difference between Colombia and the Caribbean islands. Colombia is GMT -5. We were in bed by 7.30 pm and despite the noise of a strong and gusting wind, we were asleep in no time, exhausted.
I awoke around 3.30am to find the boat floor covered in dust, which had blown through the open hatches. The wind had dropped and I went back to sleep for another couple of hours, waking again, briefly at 0600 and eventually waking fully at 0830. 13 hours in bed has to be a record for me, so I really must have needed it. After a quick breakfast, Pete took the large bag of washing to the laundry, while I made up the beds with fresh bedding and put clean towels in the bathroom. I headed for the laundry area too and found Pete waiting for his turn. There was a queue as so many boats had arrived yesterday. Once we had the first load in, we went for lunch. Then the second load went in and the first was transferred to the dryer. During the course of the day, we met Eddie and Richard, friends of Chase and Natalie, Adam and Bev, from Blu, Avi and Mitch from Miocene, with their friend Amanda and also an Argentinian guy who had been sailing the other boat of the four that travelled together from Aruba. We all exchanged stories about the trip, the weather and mishaps along the way. The bedding dried well in the tumble dryer but the clothes did not, so I pegged them out on the rails on the boat. There they dried in 30 minutes but probably had sand ingrained due to the wind. We were supposed to be going to the hotel pool to swim but Pete had disappeared. I found him on Richard's boat, drinking beer with Richard, his girlfriend, Nav and Eddie. I joined them for a couple before heading to the showers.
For dinner, we headed further afield than the previous night, turning off the front and heading into the narrow backstreets and wide open squares, which were filled with shops, restaurants and bars, serving all types of food. We settled on a small restaurant, where we sat on the sidewalk for a drink, before ordering food. The mojitos were good! There were lots of street pedlars and musicians setting up, playing a few tunes and them moving on. Twice, we were serenaded by rappers, which I found amusing but Pete didn't appreciate. 'You are the power and she is your flower' seemed to be a popular lyric. We moved to a table inside to eat and listened to a young lady playing electric violin just outside. The food was great and inexpensive. It definitely wouldn't be worth provisioning to cook dinner on board here. On our way back to the boat, we paused for a beer at the marina bar, where we met Sieze, from Turkey, which led to a lot of chat about the places we had been on the boat, over there. We were in bed at 9.15pm, so not a late night. It was blowing a hooley again but during the night it calmed and then came the mosquitos.
Saturday 1st February - Happy birthday wishes were sent to Lynne, my brother's partner. We had cheese spread on biscuits for breakfast, for the second day running, being all we had in the fridge. We needed to obtain cash, a sim card for the phone and find a supermarket. Luckily, we met Hugh and Debbie as we hit the pontoon. They had been in Santa Marta for a year, so knew exactly where everything is. We headed to Brot with them for coffee and I treated myself to a chocolate croissant. There we downloaded lots of information from our new found friends. They advised us not to sail to Cartagena, due to the difficulty of getting back up from there to Panama and also suggested we stayed longer in Santa Marta, to allow the winds to ease. We could visit Cartagena by road. At that point, we decided to stay for a month and do our sightseeing from here. It also made financial sense, as the agent's fees for customs clearance and immigration are waived by the marina and they apply a 35% discount to the mooring fees, such that a month cost not much more than 2 weeks. We found the bank but didn't find the mobile phone shop suggested by Debbie but with a lot of help from locals and Google translate, we found another one. A 31 day sim card with 18GB cost 46500 pesos (just over £9), so was really cheap compared to home. The supermarket closest to the marina was a reasonable size and had a good selection of fresh food, freshly baked bread and pastries, as well as a meat counter, alcohol department and household goods. We provisioned with breakfast items, beer and wine, took them to the boat. We ate lobster cerviche at the marina bar / restaurant, for lunch and then headed to the AC Hotel to swim. Hugh and Debbie were already there and while we were there, everyone else we know, turned up in 2s and 3s. The pool had been taken over by the yachties. The pool is on the fourth floor and surrounded by glass. There's a great view of the marina too. However, when the wind blows, it whips up waves in the swimming pool. Back on board, we plugged into the electricity supply, connected the water and washed the boat. For tea, we returned to 13 Reses, where Pete had the 250g steak and I had the lighter chicken skewer, both very tasty and tender. Pete had 4 beers, I had 2 wines and the bill was £26.83. Loving the prices in Colombia! Back on board, I put the mosquito nets in and sprayed around with Raid and we had a drink in the cockpit while the smell disappeared. It was another windy night, making it difficult to sleep, even though Pete had changed the mooring ropes to our stretchy ones, to reduce the creaking and lurching.
Sunday morning, we paid a visit to Yerlis, our agent in the marina, to extend our stay. She said she would prepare our invoice and we could settle it tomorrow. She was delighted that we were staying longer. I headed to the Captain's lounge to do the cashflow (once an accountant, always an accountant), write the blog about our passage and do a Spanish lesson on Dualingo. Pete went into town to look for an air filter but all the shops were closed. We went out to find somewhere for lunch but many of the bars and restaurants were also closed. We found a fish and seafood place, in a little courtyard, on the edge of the big square. There were a few tables already taken but plenty of room for us. The restaurant is called 'Donde Chucho Gourmet' and we will be visiting again. They provided a menu in English, that went on and on. You could eat here every day for 3 months and never have the same thing twice. I chose the seabass in garlic sauce and Pete had octopus crackling, which turned out to be breaded and done on the grill. Even I liked it and I am not a fan of octopus. The wine was of a better class than other places and no more expensive. A man set up and played electric cello, which added to the experience and created a lovely atmosphere. We ordered more drinks, then went back to the boat for an afternoon siesta. We then had a quick beer at the marina bar, where we were becoming well known, before Pete serviced both heads (toilets) and I researched excursions, hotels and buses, for trips to Palomino and Minca. There were gales overnight, so I was glad I had dosed in the afternoon.
On Monday morning, I met Debbie at the marina gates, to go to Pilates. Juan, a driver, picked us up at 7.45am for the 15 minute trip to Avila Pilates Studio. I had been expecting a room with mats on the floor and a class of maybe 20 people, so was surprised to enter a small studio, with TRX and machines that looked like the rack i.e. torture. There were 3 people doing their programs already and we were having a private lesson, something that Debbie does 2 to 3 times a week. We stretched using the TRX and then laid down on the racks, putting our feet into stirrups. This was Reform Pilates, something I had heard of on Facebook but never seen. It was a good, hard workout, for an hour, for legs, arms and shoulders while keeping the core engaged; lots of 4 sets of 20 reps. I would be feeling this tomorrow.
Back at the marina, we took down the Yorkshire flag, which had been half shredded by the gales overnight. Pete sent a WhatsApp to Juan, the driver Debbie uses, to arrange a pickup at 1130 hours, to take us to the Buenavista Mall, outside of town. As the water on the dock is not potable, due to silt, we wanted to look for a filter to enable us to use the water for drinking. First stop though was the food court for lunch, where we ate Mexican burgers which were full of sloppy, refried beans and guacamole; edible but not particularly nice. We spent an hour in the Home Store, where we found a filter but couldn't find the adapters we needed to fit it to the tap and our hose. We browsed the designer shops, then bought provisions at Exito, the large hypermarket. Juan collected us just after 3pm for the journey back to the marina. 30,000 pesos (£6) return. We sat at the bar in the marina, talking to Karen, who works there. She was practising her English and I was practicing my Spanish. I was on day 3 of Dualingo. I booked us a hotel in Palomino for 3 nights and we confirmed with Karen that we had the correct bus stop on Google Maps, for our journey tomorrow. On our way back to the pontoon, we came across Adam, carrying a 20 litre bottle of water, which he had purchased for £2 from the mini-market on site. We decided that was the way to go for filling our water tanks, rather than fitting a water filter to the supply on the dock. Adam, Bev, Avi and Mitch had been to Minca on a Jungle Joes tour. They said the place was nice but that the tour wasn't worth the money if you had seen cocoa and coffee fields before. We told them we were heading to Palomino tomorrow and showed Adam the photos of the hotel we had booked and the price and he was amazed, saying he would also look at it as they were ready to get off the boat, once they had fixed some of the issues that arose sailing here. We set the alarm for early next morning.

Passage to Colombia

30 January 2025 | Aruba to Santa Marta
Donna Cariss | Awful
On Tuesday 28th January, we woke early in anticipation of our passage to Colombia. Other yachts and catamarans had departed the anchorage, at Surfside Beach, yesterday evening, to clear out prior to an early start. Having only been in Aruba since 2130 hours on Sunday and spent time clearing in on Monday, we needed to provision for the trip. We took the dinghy ashore and walked for 30 minutes to Price Smart, a large supermarket on the outside of town, beyond the airport. We were early, as it didn't open until 9am. Then we noticed that the signs were all for members, meaning that we couldn't shop there. We headed inland for 15 minutes and found a small, Chinese supermarket, where we managed to buy bananas, fruit juice, coca cola, lettuce and 2 boxes of chicken nuggets. Not what we really wanted but beggars can't be choosers. it was another 20 minute walk back to the dinghy. I had completed the SailClear online form for customs, first thing this morning but the online immigration card for Colombia wouldn't allow me to select 'arrival by sea', only 'arrival by air'. I tried again once back on board but had no luck. We would just have to arrive in Colombia without meeting this requirement. Pete went over the side with mask and snorkel and scrubbed the log wheel, to ensure we would have the boat speed while sailing and would be able to see the difference between that and speed over the ground and also true versus apparent wind. We lifted the outboard engine and the dinghy and completed preparations for sailing. Then we lifted the anchor and motored down the channel behind Renaissance Island, to the customs and immigration dock at the port of Barcadero. We moored alongside, with the assistance of some Colombians from a cargo boat and visited immigration and then customs, which didn't take long. At 1130 hours we slipped the lines, negotiated the shoal and headed into the channel and out to sea, unfurling the foresail immediately. Our passage had begun and would probably take between 50 and 60 hours. We needed to head northwest first, to a point 50 miles north of the Colombian coast, to avoid potentially hazardous winds and seas. There is a mountain, 25 miles inland, that stands 5800m high, with similarly steep gradients underwater. The area is notorious for creating swirling, gale force winds and big, breaking seas and many yachts who cut across find themselves with shredded sails and broken forestays. We had a decent weather window but were taking no chances.
The sailing was tremendous to begin with. We had a very strong current behind us and were doing between 8 and 12 mph, as we surfed down some of the waves. The plan had been to arrive at the first waypoint around breakfast time on Wednesday, when the forecast said the lightest winds and smallest swell would be but we were going to be way ahead of schedule. As we progressed north of the headland with the mountain, the seas became more confused and the height of the waves increased to around 3 metres. We would be wearing life jackets and harnesses overnight, when we would be alone in the cockpit keeping watch, as the sea was unpredictable. We had chicken nuggets with lettuce, onions and salad cream, in a baguette for tea. It was quite tasty but soon started to repeat on me, the way a McDonald's burger does.
I took first watch, waking Pete at 9pm to take over. I had had the benefit of the sunset and fading light, so it hadn't been too bad. As always seems to be the case, on passage, there was no moon but Venus was shining brightly and low in the sky ahead. I saw no ships, just a couple of aeroplanes. Pete took over at midnight and I went to bed but I didn't sleep, with the rocking and rolling. Pete had to start the engine for an hour, on low revs, to keep the batteries charged. That made me feel quite queasy for a while. Pete left me in my bunk until 1am, an extra hour and then I took over for the graveyard shift until 4am, grabbing a banana to stave off any hunger. My watch went fairly quickly, monitoring our position relative to our waypoint but I definitely didn't enjoy it. When Pete came on watch we had passed 7 miles south of our waypoint and were about 3 miles southwest of it. Rather than gybe on my own, to head south west and because we were further south than originally planned, I had adjusted our point of sail by 8 degrees to port. So, before I went to bed, we executed the gybe together and changed heading to 260 degrees, putting us on a course over the ground of 248 degrees. We had covered 125 miles and had 211 miles to go to a point on the Colombian mainland, north of Santa Marta. Pete kept watch until 8am but I still could not sleep, despite being very tired. Pete awoke at 10am and I went back to bed, taking Pete's berth instead of mine. It's narrow but has a comfortable mattress and a lee cloth to stop you rolling out when the boat heels or rocks sideways. I actually managed to sleep for about half an hour, rising at noon, still yawning. We had been updating the log hourly during the day and at least every 90 minutes at night (to try not to disturb the person in bed), as well as at each change of course. We record the time, wind speed and direction, boat speed, speed of the ground (SOG), heading, course over the ground (COG), position fix (lat & long) and log (distance). Pete updated the log at 11.30am as that was 24 hours since we had left and the distance covered was a new record of 188.1 miles, an average of 7.83mph. We had gradually slowed as the current reduced as we moved further offshore.
As forecast, the weather was much calmer on Wednesday, especially during the morning, so the sailing was quite pleasant. An enormous ship passed behind us, about 6 miles away. It was so large it looked as though you could throw a stone at it. We had a bite on the fishing line but the fish took the tail off the lure and got away. I refused to have chicken nuggets for tea again, so Pete made a tomato sauce and added onions, garlic and bacon. There was so much, he didn't bother with the pasta. We had hoped for a calmer night but after tea the wind started to pick up and the sea state with it. The wind direction also changed, so we gybed at 1800 hours and half an hour later, I went to bed, an hour earlier than scheduled and managed to get a little bit of sleep. Pete gybed again at 8pm. I was due on watch at 11pm but arose 20 minutes early. I had heard noises on deck and thought Pete was walking around, which is against our rules in the dark. Then Pete came below wearing the head torch and started washing his hands. We had passed through a large shoal of flying fish and they had landed all over the boat, which is what I had heard. Pete had picked up those that landed in the cockpit and the dinghy and thrown them back over board. He left those that landed on deck. They would get washed overboard at some point, dead or alive, depending on how long it took. Pete hopped into bed 8 minutes early. I updated the log before moving to the cockpit, clipping on and completing a 360 degree check for other vessels. I had indeterminate white lights, in the distance, on the starboard side. I settled down and lined up the lights with a stanchion until I was absolutely sure that the ship was heading north and increasing the distance between us. This I could tell because the lights started to move away from the stanchion, to the right. The ship never appeared on AIS, so was more than 5 miles distant. At 0030 hours, still on my watch, I spotted lights directly ahead of us. I could see them from both the port and starboard sides of the boat. The light or lights were white but too far away at the moment to determine which aspect of the ship I was seeing. I went down below and updated the log. Pete asked if everything was ok, so I mentioned the ship and he went up to take a look. By this time, 2 white lights were visible, one higher than the other, indicating a ship over 50 metres in length, going across our bows. The light to the right was higher, so the ship was moving from west to east. Before long, I could also make out the ship's red port light too. I passed some time watching the ship's lights, getting closer and eventually it passed to our port side, 1.5 miles away, which looks quite close, especially at night. I woke Pete at just after 2am, when I had updated the log and I climbed into bed. I was now feeling sick with tiredness and after a short time, I fell asleep. Every so often, when we were rocked by a big wave, I face planted into the pillow and woke up but managed to keep going back to sleep. Pete left me to sleep until 0615, so he had completed a long watch. The wind had dropped and the sea had calmed in the last hour or so and as I took over the watch again it was actually quite pleasant sailing. I could see the dark shape of the mountains, to the east, rising way above the clouds. Then I watched the sun rise, which obliterated the view of the mountains, which disappeared in the haze. With the sun came the wind and with the wind, the swell increased again but it wasn't too bad. Pete was up again at 0830 hours and by then the wind was gusting to 27 mph, so I suggested that we put a reef in the foresail. Our boat speed increased. We could now see the headland north of Santa Marta and the mountain ranges along the coast. You are not allowed to take meat, animal products or vegetables into Colombia, so we had to throw our remaining fresh food overboard, including the second pack of chicken nuggets. I had a message from EE, so bought some data and tried the immigration form again but still couldn't get it to work.
The wind continued to increase and the sea was getting feisty, with an increasingly big and confusing swell. We put another reef in the foresail when the wind was consistently on or over 30mph and started the engine, as we now just wanted to get to our destination as quickly as possible. As we closed in on the coast and the headland, the wind hit 40mph and Pete took over the helming, as the autohelm was causing us to corkscrew uncomfortably. It was now definitely what I would describe as rough. Approaching the island just north of Santa Marta bay was incredibly windy but we took the decision to go on the inside rather than have the extra distance to go around it. Once through the gap, the sea calmed in the shelter even though the wind continued to blow at almost 30 mph. We were surprised to see modern high-rise buildings and 2 cruise ships docked. Pete called port control on VHF channel 16 and they cleared us to make our way to the marina. Next we called the marina on channel 72 but didn't get a coherent reply because it was lunchtime and the office was closed and the marineras don't speak English. Pete put the ropes and fenders on while I helmed the boat and then we headed for the fuel pontoon. Pete disembarked and went to look for the office and the fuel guys called Sebastian to come over and see us. He brought forms for us to fill out and allocated us berth D13. Pete went in a launch to take a look, so there would be no surprises. It was going to be difficult berthing with the strong wind and we were both nervous. Pete said that the pontoons were quite short, so we would be going in bows to and I would need to throw the foreline to Sebastian and then quickly jump off with the midship's line to slow the boat down. With so much to do, I threw the line too soon and with bad technique and the line didn't reach Sebastian, so Pete had to abort and reverse back out. The wind took the bow round, being the lightest part of the boat and Pete had a devil of a job getting round to have a second attempt. He had to reverse hard and the dinghy touched the anchor on another boat but no damage was caused. This time, I threw the foreline correctly and as there were 3 men on the pontoon, I also threw the midship's line and Pete threw the aft line and we were soon tied up safely, alongside a motor boat which had no fenders on, meaning we couldn't rest alongside it. We gave Sebastian our boat papers and passports, so he could take them to the office when it re-opened and he told us we shouldn't have ditched our fresh food as they really don't care. He also said that the online immigration form doesn't work. We headed to the marina bar for a cold beer. It had taken us just 49 hours for the trip of 353.3 miles. Miocene and Blu were also on our dock, having arrived around 8am that morning. They had suffered the crazy weather in the dark, which was scary for them and Blu had sustained damage to the roller reefing, amongst other things. When the office opened, we headed over and met Yerlis, a lovely young woman, with whom we had communicated by email. She said our passports would be back from immigration in 10 minutes and that she would be our customs agent. We filled out more forms for the marina contract and the agency contract and had our finger print and photo taken, as access to facilities is controlled by fingerprint and facial recognition. Yerlis showed us where all the facilities are and we were free to go and experience Colombia. We headed back to the boat and slept for 90 minutes, showered and headed out through the marina gates for tea.

Bonaire

17 January 2025 | Bonaire
Donna Cariss
As predicted, I didn't sleep and as Pete awoke for the toilet at 3am, we decided to depart Spanish Water. There was a three quarter moon, well on its way to setting but it would provide some light for navigating the other vessels at anchor. Pete raised the anchor, with me on the helm and we slowly made our way around the back of the boats around us, before Pete took over the helm and I moved to navigation. There was a local yacht with 2 strobe lights, one at its bow and the other at its stern, flashing alternately, which caused us some confusion, as they were about in line with some channel markers. The pilotage out of the anchorage and through to Sandals resort was stressful, especially once the moon had set and the channel became narrow and shallow. At one point, Pete turned the wrong way, confusing himself, as we were heading south, so what is a turn to starboard on screen is a turn to port. Eventually, we cleared the channel and turned towards the east, along the south coast of Curacao. At this early hour, there was no wind and we appeared to have a following tide, so we pushed on, under engine, through the dark, identifying other vessels via their lights. We saw a cruise ship coming towards us and a couple of tankers alongside. We could also see the lights on Klein Curacao. We passed north of Klein at around 0620 hours, as the dawn was breaking beautifully and we were treated to a sunrise unobscured by clouds. The swell was around 0.8 metres, on the nose, along with the wind but the trip wasn't as bad as we had expected and we continued to average around 5 mph, under engine. At 8am, I went back to bed and slept for just over an hour. On my return to the cockpit, we spotted a catamaran on the horizon behind us. Was it Chase and Natalie on Benevah and would it catch us up. The answer to both questions was no and they didn't arrive until early afternoon. We picked up a visitor buoy outside Nautico Marina at just after 11.30am and were pleased to have made the trip back east in 8.5 hours. We were back in the crystal clear waters of Bonaire.
We launched the dinghy to go ashore. We weren't far from the dock, so we would not be needing to use the outboard engine. Pete could row instead. The customs office was located by the cruise ship dock, a short walk down the promenade. They were friendly and efficient and having cleared the boat in, they said that Immigration were on their way to meet us. The formalities completed, we headed to the tourist office to enquire about paying our tourist tax, US$75 per person, per visit. The office was closed until Monday, so we went in search of lunch. We found La Cantina, a brewery and eating house, with a lovely courtyard and a chatty bar tender from Alaska. It was great to have real beer, rather than lager, for me, at least. I tried the Bonaire White Sands, which has a citrus taste to it. We ordered chicken wings and bitterballen, both were delicious and plentiful. La Cantina would become our favourite place in Kralendjik. We found a Chinese run supermarket to buy a couple of things. It was called 'Top Supermarket' but was anything but, with a strange collection of goods and an unfriendly guy at the checkout. On our way back to the boat, we bumped into Chase and Natalie on their way to clear in. Back on board, we had a swim. It was like being in a bottle of Bombay Sapphire; crystal clear water which appeared bright blue from the surface. We were unsure who to contact to pay for the mooring buoy but assumed that someone would call round to see us at some point. Sure enough, Raoul turned up at 4pm and instructed us to go to the marina to clear in, pay our tourist tax and pay for the buoy, before 5pm. We gathered our papers again and hastened back into the dinghy. It was about a 15 minute walk north to the marina. By 5pm we were US$395 poorer, having paid for 7 nights on the buoy at $35 plus tax per night and $75 each for tourist tax. The lady also explained that we would need to pay another $40 each if we intended to visit the national park or to enter the water within the marine park. We never paid this fee, as we didn't manage to get a trip to the national park and we didn't scuba dive or snorkel, other than right by the boat. Before getting back on board, we had a beer at 'It Rains Fishes', the rather upmarket bar and restaurant opposite the dinghy dock and were surprised to be charged only $11 for 2 beers., not cheap but not off the scale either. We cooled down again with a beer float, off the back of the boat, bobbing up and down on our noodles, had dinner, followed by a couple of G&Ts and a fabulous sunset. The cruise ship had still not departed when I went to bed around 8pm. That's unusual as most ships leave by 6pm, so they can open the casinos on board. It was a quiet night and we both slept soundly.
I was up at 6.30am on Saturday, feeling refreshed and raring to go but Pete slept on for another couple of hours. At 9am we visited Epic Tours, to pay the charge for using the dinghy dock ($10) and a deposit for a gate key. We walked 25 minutes to the laundry, did a full wash and dry and then walked another 15 minutes to the Warehouse supermarket, which was fantastic. However, they charged us for 72 beers instead of 12, which took about 20 minutes to sort out. We collected the laundry bag on our way back and called into La Cantina for a beer but had lunch on board this time. We had a swim and watched an osprey hunting around the boat. We had agreed to meet Chase and Natalie at El Bigote, a Mexican restaurant out towards the marina but when we arrived, they were fully booked. As it turned out, Chase and Natalie were downtown still, so they acquired a table at Hanging on Sunsets, overlooking the sea. We had fizz (the girls) and beer (the boys) and tacos. The food was great but the bill a bit pricey at $123 per couple. We rowed back to the boat and had another good night's sleep.
On Sunday morning, Pete woke up full of cold (or man flu), so it was a slow start. I persuaded him to come ashore and do the historic town walk. It wasn't very impressive, to be honest, although the town is pretty and charming, with lovely shops, bars and restaurants. We had beer and bitterballen at Bubbles and returned to the boat so Pete could spend the afternoon sleeping. The night was disturbed by loud music and revving motorbikes, until 3am, not to mention Pete's snoring.
Monday, we walked to Budget Marine, to purchase a spare impeller and a new 20 litre diesel tank, as one of ours had split around the nozzle. We dropped the tank off in the dinghy before making our way to Warehouse again, to do a larger shop. Lunch was a shared grilled ham and cheese at Rumba Cafe. In the afternoon we snorkelled around the boat, seeing a box fish, many zebra fish and other small fish. Just behind the stern, there was a sudden drop off to about 20 metres. For the previous few evenings, the people on one of the German catamarans had been playing loud music in the late afternoon and early evening but not today. Pete swam over to ask why not. They were worried that people were annoyed by it. That's how we met Karsten and Maria on Makarena. They shouted us over to join them for a beer but we had lifted the dinghy, the tea was ready and Pete was still full of cold, so we took a rain check. Tonight's sunset included a green flash and then we had a full moon. We had rain during the night.
Tuesday was a very wet day and there was flooding in the streets of Kralendjik. Pete slept late but eventually we ventured ashore to Pier Dos for a beer, where we were soon joined by Chase and Natalie. There were lots of Brits around, as the P&O ship was in. Back on board, once the rain stopped, we watched Karsten and his friends playing on wake boards and a motorised board, which kept us entertained. The rain returned, along with mosquitos, so all the hatches had to be closed overnight.
On Wednesday we took a sightseeing tour around the island, excluding the national park. Unfortunately, nobody will run a tour for just 2 people, so unless you are holidaying in a group, you have to do tours with the cruise ship passengers, which means seeing things in a rush, due to the limited time they have ashore. We spent the morning jumping in and out of the little minibus, taking photos, with no stop longer than 10 minutes. The salt flats were interesting, in their different shades of pink, depending on how many of the bacteria were still alive. This area is famous for pink flamingoes, which get their colour from the bacteria but there weren't very many around today. Sorbon Beach was lovely, where the kite surfers and windsurfers go. It would have been nice to spend a couple of hours there. The north of the island was mainly nice sea views and a view of Klein Bonaire from Seru Largo. The local life museum certainly wasn't anything to write home about. We missed the distillery, as we ran out of time, having been held up by the many golf buggies being driven around the island by tourists. We had lunch at La Cantina, used the ATM to replenish our stock of US dollars, for the rest of our trip and returned to the boat. We had sundowners on Makarena with Karsten and Maria, where I also met their cat, Balou.
Thursday would be our last day on Bonaire. We had decided to return to Curacao on Friday, as the wind was forecast to pick up strongly from Saturday onwards, with an increase in swell and a lot of rain. It would be our last chance to snorkel on some of the reefs, so we tied the dinghy to our buoy and set off for Klein Bonaire in the yacht, under engine. You can tie your boat to buoys around the island and along the coast of Bonaire, to dive or snorkel. Halfway to the island, the engine overheating alarm went off. Pete went over the side with mask and snorkel but there was no blockage in the water inlet. The impeller was fine too. The antifreeze was low again. Pete topped it up and we motored back to our buoy. There would be no snorkelling today. Pete changed the air filter and then went to Budget Marine for more antifreeze, a filter and a strainer for the watermaker. I waited in Pier Dos, having a coffee, as my flipflop decided to fall apart. There I met Chase and Natalie, who had been joined by friends, Ashleigh and Chris, the first to arrive for Natalie's 40th birthday. Pete and I went to La Cantina for the final time and then to customs to clear out. We had a swim and I could see something large below me in the water. Pete had his mask and snorkel, as he was scrubbing the log wheel. He took a look and there was an eagle ray, which he followed all the way to the dock, where he watched it feeding. In the evening, we met Chase, Natalie and friends at El Bigote for Mexican, which was a fantastic night. We were sad to say goodbye but hopefully we will meet again in the future. Overnight, the motorbikes were revving again, well beyond 3am.

Curacao

10 January 2025 | Spanish Bay, Curacao
Donna Cariss
At 0645 hours, our engine was on, Pete dropped the buoys and I motored away from Bonaire and away from the rising sun. We would return to the island again, in a week's time, with friends, Chase and Natalie, who were waiting for us to join them in Curacao. We put the foresail out on the starboard side, making the most of an early breeze off the land. We passed a new Holland America cruise liner, that was making its way to dock in Bonaire; of interest to us as we have stayed on the old 1950's one, which is now a hotel in Rotterdam. The next point of interest was a pair of pink flamingos flying by us. Bonaire is famous for these birds, which feed on the pink shrimps of the salt ponds, giving them their rich, pink colour. Just before 8am, with the wind having died, we put the engine on. The sea was calm, so I went down below and changed the bedding, before the sun rose too high and made any activity in the cabin too uncomfortable. As we were under engine, we decided to switch on the watermaker and top up the tanks, as we weren't sure what the water quality would be like in Spanish Water, Curacao, it being an inland sea. It turned out to be the right decision. As we left the shelter of Bonaire, the swell picked up and we were surfing down waves of up to 3 metres and picking up speed, although there was still little wind. It was a long time before we could see Curacao, especially the south of the island, as it's very flat. As we closed in, we could see Klein Curacao, about 5 or 6 miles to the south. Along the south of the main island, there was an area for kite surfing and we also passed a few lagoons that almost looked manmade. The north easterly swell disappeared as we had shelter from the land, so I decided to take a shower and wash my hair, using the deck shower, while we had some privacy. A catamaran was coming by, so Pete took some revs off, to slow us down. Once we were both showered, we returned to full speed and headed round towards the entrance to Spanish Water. The Sandals Resort is right at the entrance of the channel into the lagoon. It looked rather nice, despite the manmade beach area. We negotiated the channel, which was quite busy with motorboats and headed for Area B, following the screen shot that Chase had sent to us and at 1345 hours, we dropped anchor, on sand, with 5 metres of water under the keel, not far behind Chase and Natalie, on Benevah. There was no doubt that the hook had gone in and that we would be secure. There was a lot of passing traffic; motor boats of all sizes, trip boats, dinghies and jet skis and some were even cutting through the anchorage. The wakes were rocking the boat and the noise was irritating. Chase came over and invited us for dinner on Benevah, which saved us having to immediately go ashore to buy provisions. We had the prized Hairoun beer, from Saint Vincent, to take with us. It was an enjoyable night and great to catch up again. The traffic died down after dark and back on board, we slept reasonably well despite the wind and rain, at times.
On Sunday morning, we were up relatively early, to catch the bus into Willemstad, to clear in. Pete downloaded the ABC Curacao app, which provides details of the bus stops and timetable. We weren't going to make the next bus but assumed there would be another within the hour, so we took the dinghy to the dock, tied up and locked up and walked up the road to the nearest bus stop. We checked the app and it said 97 minutes to the next bus; damn! There was a coffee bike by the bus stop, so we sat down and had a coffee and a toastie, in the shade, while we waited. Eventually the bus arrived and we paid US$2 each for the ride. The bus went at breakneck speed, frequently slamming the brakes on at bus stops to let people on or off the bus. We had read that the journey took an hour but we were at the bus terminal in less than 30 minutes. Curacao was a Dutch island, so typically, the bus terminal was on the side of a canal. To reach Immigration, we had to keep the canal on our right until we came to the swing footbridge across to the north side. On the way, we passed customs, where we would go after immigration. Willemstad, on both sides of the canal, was stunning, with typically Dutch, colourful buildings, all in immaculate condition. It really was pretty. We crossed the bridge and turned right, went up the hill and located a booth with a security guard. Here we had to show our passports, to be allowed access to the quayside to continue to the immigration office. All visitors to Curacao are required to complete an online immigration form but we had abandoned it as we were unable to complete the fields for airline, flight number and hotel, so we were presented with iPads to complete the forms and advised what to select in the fields that are meaningless to yachties. The lady and man in the office were efficient but helpful and chatty. Immigration complete, we retraced our steps to the customs office. Pete said that Eric was extremely friendly too. We checked the ABC app and there wasn't a bus back to Jan Thiel until 3.30pm, so we took a walk through the streets and squares of Willemstad and stopped at La Boheme for lunch, before returning to the boat. Being the first Sunday after New Year, it was the Faulk, a festival where around 400 boats go to a small, enclosed bay, just outside Spanish Water, anchor and raft up to each other and party like there's no tomorrow. We were happy to have missed it. Chase and Natalie had gone, along with many boats from Spanish Water. With plenty of space, we decided to re-anchor away from the passing traffic. All the boats started to return and the pirate pizza boat tied to a mooring which brought them about as close to us as was comfortable. Next, another boat, full of drunken, noisy passengers pulled alongside and rafted up to the pizza boat and it was dangerously close to us. Pete really wasn't happy. I argued that it couldn't be staying there all night and sure enough, after 20 minutes, all the passengers from the pizza boat moved to the second boat and it left to return everyone to shore. The anchorage became extremely peaceful and there was no wind and we spent a very pleasant evening, in the cockpit, listening to music and had a restful night.
On Monday, we had to return to Willemstad to obtain an anchor permit, as the port authority office had been closed over the weekend. This time, we were at the bus stop in plenty of time to catch the 0750 hours bus and we arrived in town at 0820. We cut across town to the footbridge, only to find it was open and the gates were shut. The free ferry was operating instead, which was rather nice. Once on the north side, we repeated yesterday's route, showed our passports and went to the port authority, which is upstairs in the Pilots building, just beyond Immigration. We completed the forms, paid our dues and had a laugh with the female port officer. Back on the south side, we had breakfast in Cafe Iguana, on the canal side and then visited a couple of jewelery stores to look for watch batteries. P&P offered the service at US$20 each, a bit pricey but it was a classy shop. The staff were great. The 2 guys dealt with the batteries while the lady chatted to us enthusiastically about Manchester United. Unfortunately, Pete's watch was declared defunct but mine was up and running again. We browsed a few shops; well I did, while Pete hung around outside looking impatient. We took a turn down a street and found ourselves in a lovely courtyard, with 3D murals on the walls and a bar, Copa Cabana, offering 3 Caribs for US$10. Pete went for the deal and I had a cappuccino. The enthusiastic proprietor was called Vincent and he sold a variety of beers, as well as cocktails made from different types of Curacao liquor. Pete told him all about Hairoun, which Vincent had never tasted. Pete was 2 beers in when Vincent caught a falling glass and badly cut his fingers. Along with some of his friends, we helped put away all his tables and chairs so he could close up and go to the hospital for stitches. On our next visit here, we found out that he had 6 stitches but only after his friend crashed the car and had all been to the police station. We left the courtyard and ambled through the narrow streets, taking photos of the many murals painted and sculpted on the walls. It was beautiful, colourful and interesting. As there was no bus until after lunchtime, we walked south for 30 minutes, to the Boulevard Market, which we had seen coming and going on the bus. By the time we arrived there, we had 21 minutes until the next bus was due there. We dashed round the supermarket and made it out in 18 minutes but Pete saw the tail end of a bus disappearing down the road. We walked to the bus stop and waited for 15 minutes before determining that the bus had been early and we had missed it. The app said 86 minutes to the next bus. There was a Chinese takeaway nearby, so we went there, sat in the shade and ordered a ribs and chicken meal and a couple of beers. 2 minutes later our 6A bus went sailing by, 20 minutes late, not early. The owner of the takeaway put our fresh food in her fridge, so it wouldn't go off. The size of the meal was ridiculous and could have fed 4 people for lunch. We ate most of the meat and the kimchee but hardly touched the rice or fried potatoes. They went home and fed us for 3 more meals. We retrieved our groceries and walked south to the next bus stop at Mambo Beach and were back on board Muirgen at 1520 hours. Around teatime, a couple of guys fell off a jet ski, while speeding through the anchorage and the jet ski ploughed into the side of the yacht next to us, at 20 knots, causing some damage. The Dutch boat owner was much more cordial with the guys than we would have been. I slept badly, with banging fireworks going off every so often, like canon, making me jump. Pete slept through it all.
On Tuesday morning, we moved again, anchoring away from the pizza boat and closer to the dock but well away from the passing traffic, although the traffic was much reduced on weekdays and the anchorage therefore a lot more pleasant. Pete topped up the diesel tank and then went to the fuel dock to fill up the diesel cans and the outboard fuel. I stayed on board and did some banking and updated my cashflow forecast (once an accountant....). In the afternoon, we took the dinghy to T14 bar by the 'beach' and had drinks with Chase and Natalie, Adam and Beverley, from yacht Blu and Mitch and Avie from Miocene, a cat. Everyone had been monitoring the weather for onward travel. We had decided to head back to Bonaire on Friday, which Benevah was also doing and the others were also leaving Friday but for Aruba. Pete and I walked across the wasteland to the swimming beach and had a dip and then went to Brisa Bar for bitteballen, which is a Dutch drinking snack and a drink. I was in bed before 8pm, tired after having no sleep the previous night. Overnight it was eerily calm, with not a breath of wind or a slapping wave.
Early on Wednesday morning, while Pete was still sleeping, I emailed Santa Marta marina (Colombia) and Nanajuana marina (Guatemala) to provisionally book places for our trip. I rechecked the weather forecast and decided that Friday was still the best day to head back east to Bonaire. The winds were dropping and the swell would be at its lowest on Friday. Within no time, we had a reply from Santa Marta and there was a lot of information and documents that we needed to send them, so we set off to find out what was over the hill to the northwest. We knew there was a supermarket, Van Den Tweel but there must be other shops and bars, as the bus route went there. A bar or cafe would be a good place to sort out the response to Santa Marta. What we found, over the hill, was Papagaya Beach, a number of shops, bars and restaurants, the supermarket and plenty of hotels and upmarket resorts. It was all very modern, clean and tidy but still had plenty of charm. We sat down in Mojitos and Snacks, overlooking the beach and infinity saltwater pool, for coffee and worked through the list. With that chore completed, we paid a visit to the supermarket, which was a great store, of the like we haven't seen in the Caribbean. It stocked lots of European brands and was about a third the price of Bequia. On the way home, we took a right turn to cut off a corner but found ourselves at a dead end so, rather than retrace our steps, we took a shortcut down a dry storm drain. After lunch, Pete snoozed on deck for a couple of hours. Chase came over for beers around 7.30pm and we had a late dinner before bed. During the night, a French yacht arrived and anchored beside us and had a very annoying strobe as an anchor light, disturbing my sleep once again.
Thursday, before Pete awoke, I reviewed the weather forecast and completed the Sailclear online submissions for our departure from Curacao and our arrival in Bonaire. We caught the 9.05am bus to Willemstad and visited customs, followed by immigration, to clear out. Again everyone was very friendly and chatty. We stopped at Steve and Friends, for bitteballen and then bought a bottle of gin at a liquor store, before visiting Vincent at Copa Cabana. Pete gave him his last bottle of Hairoun. On the way home, the bus was stuck in a traffic jam, which turned out to be a serious road accident and had to turn around and take a different route. After an hour, we eventually disembarked at Van Den Tweel to buy provisions. There we found that the plastic lid on the gin bottle had broken and all of our documents were soaked in gin. We walked back to the boat, carrying the bags of shopping, as we knew there would be no bus anytime soon. Chase and Natalie had left Spanish Bay to go to Klein Curacao for the night and Blu and Miocene had also departed. We laid all the documents and passports out on the starboard side bunk to dry out and prepared for our early departure next morning, lifting the outboard and dinghy, taking down the anchor ball and the Yorkshire flag ad removing the sail covers. I set the alarm for 6am but we agreed that we would leave earlier, in the dark, if we were both awake. That set the scene for me to have another sleepless night, looking at the moon and trying to ignore the strobe next door.

The Passage - Windwards to the ABCs

03 January 2025 | The Caribbean Sea
Donna Cariss | Variable
The ABCs are the islands of Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao, which lie 500 miles west of the Windward Islands, off the north coast of Venezuela. Until recently, the ABCs belonged to the Netherlands but they now have their independence and are three separate countries, although they retain strong ties with Holland. Venezuela is now a no go country and boats that stray too close are open to being boarded by pirates. Not long before Christmas, a catamaran anchored off a small island belonging to Venezuela, was boarded, resulting in a fight. The skipper managed to throw the man overboard, lift the anchor and motor into a rough sea, leaving the pirate boat behind. Other than Los Roques, a group of tiny islands and sandbars, which is extremely expensive to visit, working out at around US$850 for up to a week's stay, there is nowhere safe to land. Long passages are not my favourite part of sailing, so I wasn't particularly looking forward to making this 500 trip. If we managed 5.5 mph, it would take us 4 days and 4 nights to reach Bonaire. It takes me a good while to get into the rhythm of 3 hour watches, so I end up tired and irritable.
On Monday the 30th December, having checked the weather again, we decided to depart Bequia on New Year's Eve, meaning we would miss the festivities and fireworks. It was a shame but a smoother passage would be worth it. The forecast was favourable and waiting another day may mean we encountered strong winds and rain on approach to the ABCs. We filled up with diesel, petrol for the dinghy, provisioned for the final time and did the rounds to say our goodbyes to all the people we had met in Bequia. First stop was Rendez Vous bar, for a final beer with Maro and Tita. Having spoken to Chase, now in Curacao, who said the beer there was expensive, we went to the beer warehouse and purchased 48 bottles (2 crates) of Hairoun. John, of John and Darcie, was there, so we exchanged hugs with him. At 4pm, we headed to Open Deck, for happy hour, bidding farewell to Sam & Adrian, John, Nick and Debbie, before returning to the boat for a quick swim and a shower. Our final stop was Laura's for dinner, our favourite restaurant in Bequia and probably in the Caribbean. We had a glass of wine too many, enjoying sitting at the bar, chatting with the barman, waitress and the owner, before saying bye. On the dinghy dock, outside the Plantation, we encountered an English couple who couldn't get their engine started, so we towed the back to their boat. Back at Muirgen, I climbed out of the dinghy before a large swell came side on, tipping Pete backwards into the sea. He climbed out via the swim ladder and then promptly fell in again while retrieving our waterproof bag. Apparently, it was all my fault! We set the alarm and went to bed, sleeping the sleep of the just (or the slightly drunk).
Customs and Immigration open at 8.30am, so we were in town by 0815 to clear out. I left Pete in the short queue and went to dispose of the rubbish. When I returned, the grills were up but the desks weren't open. A French skipper was complaining, so the staff turned away and carried on chatting, delaying opening for another 5 minutes. By 9am we were done and returned to the boat to lift and secure the dinghy and engine and complete our preparations for departure. At 0948 hours we started the engine, then lifted the anchor and motored out of the anchorage, passing by Nessa V to wave goodbye to Sara and Nigel. Bang on 10am, the foresail was out and the engine was switched off. Once we cleared the headlands of Bequia, the swell settled down and we had a pleasant, downwind sail for 3 hours, with 14 to 16 knots of wind from the ENE and averaged 6mph. The weather was partly cloudy, so it wasn't too hot either. The wind started to drop and come directly behind us, so we poled out the gib on the port side and raised the cruising shute on the starboard side for a few hours. Just before dark, we snubbed the cruising shute and removed the whisker pole from the gib, as we were going to need to motor for a while to keep the speed up and the batteries charged. The wind turbine is less effective when sailing downwind, especially in light airs and the solar panels don't operate so well with cloud. The you have to factor in the increased hours of darkness, at this latitude, compared to the UK and Europe. Unfortunately, while rolling away the gib, Pete caught his best Italian Dematsu watch on the guardrail and it popped off and into the 2800 metre deep water. We now picture a giant octopus trying to remember which tentacle he is wearing it on.
We settled into a routine of eating samosas for lunch, pork in some form or other for dinner, Callilou soup during the night and anything we could grab for breakfast, interspersed with hard boiled eggs or ginger biscuits for snacks. Pete had a couple of small beers each day, while I had a G&T before going to bed, ahead of my first watch. We had agreed that I would do my night watches from 10pm to 1pm and then 4am to 7am, as I wanted to see the sun rise, so I went to bed at around 8pm, to try and catch forty winks. With a rolling sea, the swell having picked up and the engine on, I didn't do more then rest my eyes and I was up and ready for my watch at 2140 hours. We turned the engine off and deployed the gib before Pete went to bed. We had a bottle of prosecco in the fridge, as it was New Year's Eve but decided that the conditions weren't appropriate for drinking it at midnight. My first night watch was uneventful. There was no moon but I could determine the horizon in all directions, except behind me, as there was light pollution from Grenada to the south, which reflected off the clouds. Every 15 minutes, I completed a 360 degree check for navigation lights on other vessels but saw nothing at all. Pete took over at 1am, we said 'happy new year' and after filling in the log book, I went to bed, where I dozed on and off. Pete left me in bed for an extra 90 minutes, as he said I was actually asleep at 4am. A bit earlier, he had come down below to investigate a bang, followed by strange noises. He thought something had fallen onto the floor and put his hand out to feel around. He was surprised to come into contact with a wriggling, flying fish which had evidently managed to fly in through the starboard side window, hit the cupboard opposite and land on the galley floor. I must have been sleeping as I missed this event. I am glad the fish didn't come from a slightly different direction, or it would have been with me in my bunk.
I didn't really see the sun rise on New Year's Day, as it was hidden by low cloud but at least it started to get daylight early in my watch. I left Pete to sleep for as long as he liked. At 0825 an oil tanker appeared on the horizon and on AIS, name of Montestina, heading to Vejot. I put on our AIS transmitter, previously switched off so we couldn't be seen by pirates but I wanted this ship to know we were there. It was the first ship we had seen and it passed behind us, almost a mile away, heading south. I pointed it out to Pete when he surfaced half an hour later. Our speed had dropped overnight but the winds freshened with the rising sun and we were soon up to 6.5 mph. After 24 hours, we had covered 135.2 miles, averaging 5.63 mph, so we were on schedule so far.
I hadn't been in bed long when Pete called me up to the cockpit as we had dolphins alongside the boat, which is always a magical experience. They like to play in the bow wave but we weren't going fast enough so they soon lost interest. They returned again about 45 minutes later, just for a few minutes. Other than that, day 2 was uneventful, with no ships and no surprises until we put the engine on in the early evening. It ran for a short while and then the overheating alarm went off. Pete checked the engine while I kept watch. Clouds of dark steam came out of the engine box when he removed the companionway stairs and there was antifreeze in the bilge. He topped it up and ran the engine, in neutral, on low revs so the fan would cool the engine down. When he was happy, we started to motorsail again, just for an hour, touching speeds of 7.8 mph. I went to bed. Suddenly, Pete came down below and said, 'We have company' and he turned off our navigation lights and proceeded to watch the other vessel through the binoculars. It wasn't yet close enough to be picked up by AIS. I went up to the cockpit, concerned at the potential danger. As the vessel came closer, we could see lighted windows but these were obscuring the navigation lights. Eventually I determined that it was either a small cruise ship or a large private motor yacht, so I put our navigation lights back on, along with the AIS transmitter, until the ship had passed. At 10pm, when I came on watch, we brought in the sail and put the engine back on, as the voltage in the batteries was dropping again. Pete pointed out that we had a feathered friend catching a ride on the solar panels. Tonight, I had the smallest slither of a new moon. Under engine and with a big following sea, I felt like I was on a rollercoaster, as did the bird, which eventually fell off with a disgruntled croak. It tried to land again but couldn't. Its underbelly glowed white in the light from our stern light and it was quite a large bird. As it flew low, I could see it was dark coloured on the upper side of its wings, so it was probably a booby. During my watch, I had up to 3 boobies landing on the spreaders and then a pair of terns landed on the A frame. One slid off and ended up hanging onto the backstay and all the while they chattered to each other, or was it to me? I had an on and off conversation with them, which passed some of the time. It can get lonely, doing a 3 hour watch, alone in the dark. At 1am, Pete came on watch and I handed over the relationship with the terns. Back on my watch, we put out the gib again to sail. The birds had all left us, having taken their rest. The wind and swell was building and around 6am I registered 9.9 mph, speed over the ground (SOG), as we surfed down a big roller and at 0630 we were hit by a squally shower, which was mercifully short. At just before 7.30am, we had to gibe the foresail, putting the sail on the starboard side, as we were pointing too high, with the wind coming round to the ESE. Usually we would be slower with the sail on this side but the wind gradually picked up to 20 mph and our speed increased with it.
By 1000 hours, with 48 hours of the passage completed, we had covered 290.3 miles, an average of 6mph, so we were comfortably ahead of schedule. If we maintained this average, we would arrive 8 hours early, in the dark. However, it was too soon to think about slowing down, with another 200 miles to cover. We were aiming for Curacao but had the option to stop in at Bonaire, 30 or so miles closer and pick up a mooring buoy, if we were early. We might even manage that in the dark.
Day 3 was a day with stronger winds and bigger seas and we were sailing at 7.2 to 7.6 mph and were getting excited about the small possibility of arriving in Bonaire on day 4, even if it was in the dark. We needed to maintain our speed, . It was another uneventful day, with no sightings of ships or other sailboats, just endless, rolling waves, flying fish and mostly cloudy skies. Then, at 1915, just after starting the engine, the alarm went off again, as I was settling down in bed. I returned to the cockpit to keep watch while Pete investigated the engine issue. He topped up the coolant again. He could see that the water from the inlet valve wasn't moving i.e. it wasn't travelling through the system. Perhaps there was a blockage in the inlet pipe. There was no way that Pete could go over the side and under the boat, with mask and snorkel to check, as it was dark and the waves were running at around 3 metres. Pete closed the valve and disconnected the hose to the engine and cut a piece of hose to back-pressure the filter, to try to blow out whatever might be blocking the pipe. Pete put his mouth over the pipe to blow, while I opened the valve and then quickly closed it again when he ran out of puff. We repeated the exercise several time, before reconnecting the hoses. The chamber filled with water but it still wasn't moving. The batteries were too low to continue to run the autohelm, so we would need to steer the boat manually all night, taking an hour at a time each. It would be stressful and tiring, with such big waves behind us and sailing at over 7mph. Pete would go first as it was his watch, so I returned to my bunk. I was hyped up on adrenalin, so wasn't going to be able to sleep. 20 minutes later, as I lay overthinking the issue, Pete had a Eureka moment; could it be the impeller? Out of bed again, to assist. The engine was still hot, so care was needed to remove the metal cap and the o-ring from the impeller. We shone the head torch into the small space and 'bingo' the impeller was pretty much shredded. Pete cleaned out all the debris and used some washing up liquid to help push the new impeller into place, followed by the o-ring, then the cap. I went to start the engine, on low revs initially and then up to 1600 rpm and everything was fine. We were both very relieved. It was now 2030 hours and I hadn't had my rest, so we rescheduled the 3 hour watches to start now and I returned to my bunk. I still couldn't sleep, so at 11pm I took over the watch from Pete, turning off the engine, to sail. The moon was ever so slightly fuller tonight although well on its way to setting. The sky was clear and filled with a million stars and there was phosphorescence sparkling in the waves breaking against the side of the boat. It was absolutely beautiful; the best night sailing I have had. As I did my 360 degree lookouts, I saw many shooting stars, so I wished for no more untoward events in the remainder of our passage. Unfortunately I had to put the engine back on after an hour, which somewhat spoiled the experience. For the last 30 minutes of my watch, I turned the engine off, so I could have the beautiful peace before going to bed. At 2am I went down to fill in the log and Pete was gently snoring, so I returned to the cockpit for another 30 minutes. If only every night watch was like this one. Pete took over the watch at 0230 hours and I slept, at last. The boat wasn't rolling in the swell and there was no engine noise and I felt content. When I rose, the daylight was coming, although the sun hadn't risen. Pete said he had seen one ship and that there may also be a yacht or other small boat in the distance behind us. At 0750 hours, I spotted a sail on the horizon behind us but slightly to the south. It seemed to be slowly catching us but then turned north and slowly disappeared. We were slowing down, as the wind had dropped and Pete suggested poling out the gib and letting out the cruising shute. He was up on the foredeck and ready to go when I noticed that the dark clouds that had been more to the south were now coming up behind us, so we aborted the manoeuvre and Pete returned to the cockpit. Within minutes, the wind picked up, being pushed by the rain and at 10am we were hit by a torrential downpour and winds up to 30 mph. Pete stayed in the cockpit, under the sprayhood and I went below to keep dry. With the wind behind us, we had to put the washboards in and it became uncomfortably hot in the saloon. I was overheating and feeling light-headed. When the rain eased, I had to go up for air and it took a while to cool down and recover. The other yacht had presumably decided to head north to avoid the squall but it probably still caught it. At 10am, after 3 days of sailing, we had covered 450 miles and were well on course to arrive in Bonaire before dark, having decided to head straight there, via the south of the island, as we would definitely have arrived in Curacao under darkness. We had been continually gybing, as the wind was directly behind us and so we decided, at 1145 hours, to motorsail the remaining way to Bonaire. We could see land to the north but not the flat lands on the south of the island but eventually we could make out the light on the end. We could also see the other yacht, heading towards us from the north. The swell really picked up as we approached the end of the island and the depths changed rapidly from over 500m to 180 metres but it settled quickly as we came in shelter of the reefs by the kite-surfing area. It was time to have a shower and wash my hair and get the salt spray off. We slowed to let a catamaran pass and then ambled along while we showered in the cockpit. Once clean and dry, we rounded the southwest point and headed north towards Klein Bonaire and Kralendjik, where the mooring buoys are. We reefed the foresail, as we approached a wind line and then put the sail away as the Swedish yacht motored by. At 1615, we picked up a white buoy, just north of Pier Dos, a bar / restaurant that overlooks the sea. With everything switched off, Pete corked the bottle of prosecco and we celebrated the New Year and the end of our passage. We had covered 477.2 miles (in a straight line, so probably more like 500) in 76 hours, averaging 6.28mph. Then Peter, from Ocean Deva, who we had met last year, came over in his dinghy to tell us we were on a private mooring and needed to move to one of the moorings with 2 red and white buoys attached. Even with a glass of prosecco inside us, we managed it first time. We were so close to Pier Dos now that we could have shouted an order across the water. However, we were staying on the buoy overnight under the yellow flag, so could not go ashore. We finished the prosecco and had instant pasta carbonara for tea, sharing a bottle of red wine. It stayed light until 7pm, an hour later than in the Windies, which was lovely and then there were fireworks. At 8pm we went to bed and slept soundly all night. The boat barely rocked. About 0230 hours we could hear the Dutch singing drinking songs in a bar but it didn't keep us awake for long. At first light, we would be away to Curacao.
Vessel Name: Muirgen
Vessel Make/Model: Westerly Typhoon
Hailing Port: Hull
Crew: Donna and Peter Cariss
Muirgen's Photos - November Mar de Cristal
Photo 18 of 22 | Back To Album
Prev   Next
Added 3 April 2022