Day One
We left Curacao early morning and headed to Los Monjes (Venezuela), an overnight passage of 120 miles. A pleasant downwind sail the only thing we needed to watch out for was the freighter traffic off the south coast of Curacao and Aruba. There is a shallow bank (60ft) as you pass Aruba where we got many strikes on our lure. We managed to reel in 3 tuna but threw them back as they were too small. Good job I took sea sickness tablets as this passage was incredibly rolly!
Day Two
With Aruba behind us and Los Monjes way in the distance I was asleep with Dylan on watch when he yelled for me to join him in the cockpit. We had got a large strike on the lure and he was having trouble pulling it in so I slowed the boat down whilst Popeye used his muscles. He spent 15 minutes fighting it and within a hundred feet from the boat, all of a sudden either the fish got a massive second wind or it got hit by something bigger and the line ran like hell, stripping it with the ratchet on full. Eventually the line broke (at the swivel…a shoddy knot) and we lost fish, lure and trace. Expletives peppering the air, I confiscated the rod and Dylan had a good sulk about another one that got away.
Approaching Los Monjes (12˚ 21' 70"N 70˚ 54' 15"W) a little after sunrise we started the engine…only to have no cooling water emerge from the stern. OPTIONS…we ran through them and decided the best would be to sail in and anchor under sail, hopefully repair the issue and then move to the designated mooring area which was a tighter space. This is not a new issue to us, it has happened before so the option wasn't so daunting. After a few exciting moments beating under jib alone to get into and area even vaguely anchorable (less than 40 ft) we found a spot away from lee shore and dropped the pick. All the while the Venezuelan coastguards posted on this island were looking on in confusion as a yacht completely ignored their offered help to tie alongside the dock and tried to make sense of our 'engine broken' charades.
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| Approaching Los Monjes |
Impellor changed, the engine purred into life and started spitting out the water we needed. Now for the tricky part of picking up a sunken polyprop line in an enclosed space. Luckily for us, a big Venezuelan fishing boat that was tied up to the line had since moved whilst we were tinkering with the engine. Motoring towards the patch a line should be I started plunging the boat hook into the water hoping to snag something, and as luck would have it, I did. Attaching an 8 ton boat to a small piece of polyprop really didn't feel like the best idea in the world but previous research had told us it was fine and we were going to dive on it anyway to check. But before we got to that part, we noticed we were dragging two weather buoys out to sea with us…much shouting and gesticulating from the Venezuelan fisherman told us that is why they had moved and they motioned for us to come alongside the wharf where they were secured. Uh ooooh.
We had a few trying attempts to get her alongside the wharf, helped by a lovely, attentive and toothless Venezuelan fisherman. With a swell similar to that found in St Helena, we moored alongside with every fender we owned out. This was the 3rd time we had ever manoeuvred Orion alongside a wall so we were very proud of ourselves!
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| Orion moored alongside the wharf |
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| Lighthouse at the top of the island |
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| View from the top of the lighthouse |
With all 3 boats safe, secure and snug in the man made bay, Dylan went out hunting for our dinner and came back with 2 giant barracuda whilst I went for a leisurely snorkel. Once you get past the extremely inquisitive giant barracuda that swim round you in teams and every so often dart straight for you with their mouth open, teeth exposed (eeek), the snorkelling here is very good. The best spot is to swim to the large cave where there are huge schools of fish amongst the cuda.
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| The large cave, good for snorkelling |
We had heard from the coastguards that there was wifi ashore, wanting to download a zygrib for the most up to date weather forecast, we went to investigate. Miming us using the laptop to a friendly coastguard, he gestured for us to follow him as we trailed towards their facilities. They really are hospitable guys here, waving as we passed and patting the head of little Petra with a nest of bright blonde hair. The coastguard ushered us into their canteen and we were greeted with air conditioning. Aaaaah. So yes there is internet, if you ask nicely. The signal is just strong enough to download a grib file but not emails or web browser. As we were sat there enjoying the cool air, the guards started playing loud music and dancing around. Brought a right smile to my face when a bunch of macho men started swaying in time to Shaggy's 'You're My Angel'! Most surreal. The main guy, Ely, who had insisted on taking a photo of us earlier that day came over to us and gave me a piece of paper complete with his twitter, email, Facebook profile, whatsapp and blackberry ID. His calling card, I guess he gives this to all the cruisers he encounters on this remote outpost.
Another round of speargun hunting saw us well fed for a second night running.
Day Four
Next stop Cabo De Vela for our first taste of Colombia, an 80 mile sail. We left Los Monjes at midday, waved off by the friendly toothless Venezuelan fisherman who were busy untangling eagle rays and sharks from their nets. Had a great sail during the day but as soon as the sun went below the horizon, the wind dropped right off and we were doing 3 knots max.
Day Five
A slow passage but as we neared the coast of Colombia, a huge pod of dolphins came to greet us. We spent a good couple of hours on the bow taking photos and watching their acrobatic skills surfing the bow waves, I don't think I will ever tire of seeing these mammals in their natural habitat.
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| Me speaking Dolphin |
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| Desert meeting the sea |
After an afternoon of snorkelling around a nearby mushroom shaped rock in murky water (gosh aren't we spoilt now?!), we had enough spear gunned fish for a good grub ashore. Piling 8 adults, 2 children, food and braai equipment into our dinghy, we (very slowly) puttered ashore to make a beach bonfire. Our fire attracted the attention of 4 local teenagers from the village who cycled out to check what was going on. They sat with us for a while but they couldn't understand English or our pigeon Spanish and we couldn't understand the dialect they were communicating in. It was a silent conversation full of hand gestures and smiles.
Jen (Waka Irie) is a New Zealand lass that you would definitely want with you if marooned on a desert island. She knows just about everything there is worth knowing about eating off the land and tonight was no exception, introducing us to barnacles and sea urchin! Shame I didn't have my camera with me as those at home will gawk at what we ate. Apparently barnacles are part of the crayfish family and they tasted that way. Jen had found some particularly big barnacles that to me just looked like a lump of rock but once cooked in the fire, the tops became soft and you could dig out the flesh on the inside. A little gritty but if you had a big pile of them you would know no difference between crayfish and barnacle! Now I wonder if you can eat goose barnacles, something useful to come from those annoying hangers on under our boat…
The second new experience of the day was sea urchin aka kina. Now these urchins you see everywhere and I never once even thought they could be edible judging by the thousands of spikes. You eat them raw, crack them open with a rock and eat the strips of yellow goo on the inside. Certainly an acquired taste, they are sweet yet bear a resemblance to that bitter polish you paint on one's nails when wanting to stop an annoying biting habit. I won't be eating it again, put it that way!
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| Kina - mauri for Sea Urchin roe |
Day Six
Wanting to have a mooch around the Wayuu village but with little fuel left in the dinghy, we all sailed our boats to the other side of the bay and anchored in 8ft - again, watching out for those plastic bottles.
Securing the dinghy to a stick in the sand, we were met by two inquisitive young boys who appeared to have never seen one before. Little 2 year old Petra wasn't so impressed with 2 strangers touching it and proceeded to toddle towards them, shaking her finger and saying 'not your dinghy, not your dinghy'! O it was funny but these boys, intimidated by a little blonde creature a good 4 years younger than them, soon shuffled off!
The Wayuu village is very rustic, solar street lights line the main street, electricity is by generator only. Whilst we were there, phone lines were being installed so unfortunately, life's distractions seem to be creeping into this remote community too. The locals live in traditional huts that are made out of cactus and there are 1 walled huts that line the beach complete with hammocks to while away the day. Cabo De Vela according to Lonely Planet is now a number one destination in Colombia for eco tourism. The government has backed a project for the locals to build a number of traditional huts on the outside of the village where tourists can stay. We must have been there during off season though as they all appeared to be empty.
The inhabitants of this village were very friendly, approaching us to say hi or sell us something but in a non imposing manner. The local Wayuu ladies were peddling their wares of hand made bracelets and headbands, at US$5 a pop though we politely declined! We found two guys selling fruit and veg out of a wheelbarrow. Excellent value and we filled our bag with cheap garlic, onions, oranges and the white unrefridgerated cheese we had found in Curacao.
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| Huts on the beach |
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| Their version of a speed bump! |
We only had US$ on us and wanted to change some to Colombian Pesos. With no shops here and definitely no banks we started asking locals whether they would swap. US$100 seemed to be the lowest amount which we certainly weren't carrying around with us until we found a young English speaking local who ran a bar and agreed to swap $50. Clubbing together our dollars we finally got some local currency to buy a beer! Sitting on a wooden bench watching the world go by, passing the time of day with the 2 english speakers and sipping a cold beer - what more could you want!
On the way back to the dinghy we went to check out the beach. Certainly not the nicest beach we have seen by a long stretch but fantastic for shell collecting, I wish we had more time to do a proper comb but unfortunately the clouds were coming in and thunder was threatening. As we approached the dinghy to our dismay the right side was totally deflated. Uh ooooh, our stomachs sank as we were thinking the worst. As it turned out, the local kids that Petra had earlier warned off must have returned in her absence, and had a play about unscrewing the hole where the pump goes and pushing on the safety valve. Using iron lungs (aka Dylan) we soon had a working dinghy again and as we pushed off towards our anchored boats, we were waved off by the locals, congregating on the beach and watching us disappear.
Day Seven
We left at 8am to commence a 125 mile sail from cape to cape to the Five Bays. Renowned to be one of the top 5 worst passages in the world, we were in for an exciting ride!
For the first 2 hours we moved 2 miles…absolutely no wind, spinnaker out for the first time and Dylan refusing to turn on the engine (leaky water pump) so we did many 360s. After 2 hours we gave in and wacked on the engine to motor towards some breeze.
A slow passage until late afternoon when the wind finally appeared and we started doing a cruising speed of 6 knots. A straight rhumb line from cape to cape meant we weren't planning on doing any sail changes but the wind had other plans. West, East, North, you name it, we experienced it. Flukey winds meant although we had the wind vane on, we had to constantly keep our eyes peeled for changes in direction or speed, reefing and at one point, we took the main down entirely for a more comfortable sail with less of a heel.
As the sun went down we were treated to a fantastic light display over the mountains of Colombia as lightening lit up the sky spoiling our night vision, widening our pupils and plunging the surrounding seas into total darkness. I took first watch and watched in amazement as the winds picked up, the seas picked up and the light display moved right over our head. Normally on land, this weather at night and out at sea was common and having done our research, we were expecting it. I reefed the jib but with the wind now gusting 36 knots and Orion surfing 9 knots down impressive swells, I woke Dylan up so we could decide our plan of attack to get the boat more stable. Deciding to bring the mainsail down completely, Dylan clipped on and wobbled his way to the mast whilst I brought the boat around into the wind. Beam on to the swells poor Orion was rocking violently but pros as we are (ha!) we had it down in no time and Dylan was straight back into the safety of the cockpit. Now with just a handkerchief up we were still doing 6 knots but it was much more comfortable. Dylan went back to sleep and I sat in the cockpit clinging onto the roller coaster ride, watching the lightening strikes right by us and getting absolutely drenched in the torrential rain. Needless to say, visibility was almost 0 so I was popping below every 10 mins to check the radar for vessels en route.
By the way, the weather forecast was 15 - 20 knots for that evening. Goes to show how much leeway you need to give when transiting this bit of the ocean!
After a further 2 hours, the worst of the storm was over and by daybreak, the sun rose and we were greeted with the majestic mountain range of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta. One of the highest peaks actually has snow on it year round but there were low clouds over the range so we didn't get a glimpse.
On Dylan's 5-8am watch, he caught a small tuna and a dorado. Losing another lure to mother nature, we tried live bait recycling the dead flying fish on deck and it worked a treat. We shall be trying this free option again in future!
As we neared the Five Bays, we chose to anchor in Ensenada Guiraca, the third of the Five Bays that offered the most protection from the swells. The wind howls in from the land (called Willywaws) so we dived on the anchor to ensure we were firmly bedded, just as well as that night we saw 40 knot gusts sweep through the bay. A gorgeous anchorage, people liken the scenery to the Norwegian fiords, the countless headlands wiggling their way in and out of the water, all covered in lush vegetation. As we motored into our chosen spot, tons of white and yellow butterflies came to greet us, checking out my bright pink hat. With no one else around, we had this part of paradise all to ourselves. I must admit, being so remote and with small fishing shacks ashore, we did sleep with our washboards in that night for peace of mind. Can never be too careful and anything to ensure that we got a decent night's sleep after the previous tough sail! In hindsight it was probably fine, no one came near us.
Day Eight
Late morning start to Santa Marta. As we exited the relative shelter of the bay, the winds started gusting and our 12 mile leisurely passage turned extremely windy! We saw winds of 46 knots as Dylan steered dead down wind, surfing the swells. As we neared the anchorage area, we saw total nutters competing in a regatta! Later when speaking to said looneys, they mentioned they saw average winds of 35 knots and many boats blew their headsails, took on water from the big waves and took various knocks to the body with stuff flying all over the place down below. Why did they even go out in this weather? Well cruisers were offered a 50% marina fee discount if they took part, so ever the bargain hunters, they presented themselves that morning regardless of the weather!
Back to Santa Marta anchorage…if you could call it that. We are loath to spending money on marinas, it seriously eats into our daily budget. So when I was researching this area I was searching and searching for a mention of anchoring spots, and found only one mention in all the blogs I came across which just says, anchor near the local fishing boats. Nearing the breakwater to the Marina Santa Marta, there is a shallow spot of 10ft just outside the buoyed entrance to the marina, behind the local fishing boats and clearing the rather large freighter lanes behind you. It is a sandy bottom, good holding but boy does it blow! And when those huge cargo ships come in to berth or the power boats come zooming out of the marina, it sends poor Orion rocking and rolling all over the place. A small price to pay though for getting near the city for free.
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| Nearing Santa Marta anchorage |
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| Cargo port at night right by where we are anchored |
I've intentionally excluded the Colombian clearance process from this post and shall elaborate further in my next blog.
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