Getting my 90 day visa extension in Brazil

 

Too busy to write home?

Days of blog silence with everyone assuming I’m having much too much fun to bother….

But it is not so! Well, not entirely so…

There hasn’t been an update for a while because I have been struggling to get over a relapse of the flu! All this leisure time doesn’t appear to be very healthy for you…or rather me…

Not that it is unusual to fall ill in Salvador. It’s common practice to catch a cold either before or after carnival, and since I always like to do things properly, I’ve done both. 😉

 

Laurence and Laura leave Salvador

Meanwhile all my marina friends have moved on, abandoning me (after generously restocking my vitamin supplement cabinet) to contend with my microbes in solitary confinement. I’m on the mend but have decided to stay put while the coughing lasts!

 

Healthy food thanks to these girls!

Besides, I’m well looked after at Pier-Salvador. I have the marinas chefs making me a hot lunch every day, ice is on hand to cool the rampant fever and I have plenty of paperwork to catch up on. Foremost being my visa extension.

It’s supposed to be easy… and it is…. except the process took me two days to complete. I was told that all the paperwork could be completed at the airport, and so, off I went…

 

Micro visa extension instructions

First up the federal police, where I was handed a minuscule scrap of paper detailing a web address, a code, and a price (see photo). Do you suppose they are trying to make savings on the cost of paper?

Next stop the airports Internet access point where I filled out a form on www.dpf.gov.br and had it printed for an exorbitant fee… No problem, just need to visit the bank and return with the receipt to have my passport stamped anew. Except I hadn’t counted on having to contend with the hurdle of Brazilian bank clerks vigorous efficacy.

Yes that last remark is intentionally dripping with sarcasm because for two hours I sat in stunned disbelief watching a parody of slow motion that passes for client service, and makes a slumbering sloth seem excessively hyperactive! Unsurprisingly, I returned too late to the federal police and found the office closed.

One three hour nightmare sardine can and sultry armpit sniffing bus ride later I was back at Eileen with the cheerful prospect of completing the process the following morning… I’ll spare you the bothersome details!

Cupid’s arrow finds other targets!

 

Cupid in Gamboa, Brazil?

Having shamelessly pandered to my friends and fellow sailors expectations by ticking the box marked “Show evidence of  smiling bikini clad Brazilians visiting Eileen of Avoca”, and insinuated that my ability to lure young attractive sailing companions rivals the likes of greats such as Errol Flynn, I can now return from my flirtations with fiction and deal with more mundane subjects… Or perhaps not! 😉

 

Get your free mud treatment in Gamboa. It's all the rage!

I’ve said my goodbyes to new found friends… (and the mud people of Gamboa), and started retracing my steps via Catu, Itaparica and Salvador.

I’m on my way back north to continue Eileen’s Brazilian adventure, though Trinidad is also firmly in our sights. Why Trinidad? Because Eileen needs to be lifted for a growing number of small repairs and Trinidad is reportedly boat-service friendly. But with nearly 2500 nautical miles to sail before I get there, it might take a while.

 

Sailing Eileen of Avoca in Brazil

Of more immediate concern is getting north of Recife and back to Jacare where the prevailing winds are southeasterly and the current turns favourable. I’m not looking forward to this next leg as I’ve already “been there and done that”, but I’ll try to make the trip more interesting by stopping at several isolated anchorages including ‘Praia Frances’ along the way.

So that’s the plan!

For sailors who wish to visit Morro de Sao Paulo and Gamboa I highly recommend anchoring opposite the small yacht club (not the same as the one mentioned in the guide books). Look for a couple of Hobie Cats lined up on the beach. There is always at least 2.5m on the outer buoys. Here is the position:

13’23.260S 038’55.933W

And for getting through the sandbanks to Cacha Prego or Catu, I can confirm that the following way-points will give you at least 3m at high tide:

  1. 13’10.559S 038’47.265W
  2. 13’09.890S 038’47.070W
  3. 13’09.769S 038’47.226W
  4. 13’08.384S 038’47.746W
  5. 13’07.856S 038’47.730W
  6. 13’07.182S 038’47.901W
  7. 13’06.806S 038’47.902W

Happy sailing!

Party like a rock star!

 

 

The crowd gathers for a street party

Convalescing, I missed most of carnival… Most… but not all… With one day left and my flu reduced to a mild case of the sniffles, I decided to join in on the last of the festivities.

Gamboa hosts an increasingly popular series of concerts and street parties for those who choose to shun the gross commercialism of Salvador’s event. I never expected to be in Gamboa for carnival, I’d never heard of the village, so imagine my surprise when I discovered that this is “the place” to be if you want to experience the real thing… time to to go out and meet friends, have a beer or three and mingle with the locals.

 

My friend Pierre is also ready to party!

Here is the bit where I go out to meet with some friends….

Even the beer is beautiful

Here is the beer or three (I’ve lost count) I promised myself….

Here is a YouTube link to show you what the party was like…

 

 

Plenty of room to sunbathe on a Yarmouth23 🙂

And here is some of the recovery-party participants relaxing on Eileen after the previous evenings mingling.

 

It's smiles all round!

I’m leaving Gamboa but…. I’m still smiling 🙂

I need to go back to bed….

 

Sick with the flu... Need to stay in bed...

I’ve arrived in Morro de Sao Paulo! Party central. I should be living it up but I’m not. Finding a safe anchorage has been my first problem. The yacht club near Morro de Sao Paulo is no more. It has become a failed night club called Madagascar and the only yachts here appear to be abandoned. It’s not a safe place to spend the night. I had to discourage several young swimmers from attempting to board Eileen.

So I moved to anchorage number 2 in my guide book, near the town of Gamboa. Better, but at 2am a ferry came to anchor so close that Eileen started bumping against it as the tide changed. Luckily there was no damage!

In the morning I met with a Brazilian sailor anchored close by and he suggested that I try the small yacht club by the clay cliffs situated half way between Gamboa and Morro de Sao Paulo.

The manager of the club kindly offered me the use of one of their buoys and the clubs facilities.

Peace at last….

Unfortunately problem number two chose to raise its ugly head.

I’m sick…..

Dauntless hardened adventurer that I am,  I am confined to my bunk until further notice, suffering a severe case of the flu… 🙂

No time to waste in Catu

 

Catu anchorage, Itaparica

Southbound, skirting the western coast of Itaparica, Eileen made good time following the tide to the village of Catu (just north of Cacha Prego). Catu has a superb anchorage, perhaps the best I’ve found since arriving in Brazil. Had I not met the simpatico crew of “Black Elise” (visiting Itaparica in order to finalize a land purchase), I would have bypassed the village altogether.

 

Crew of Black Elise

Guide books briefly mention the area but effectively discourage visitors by only stressing its dangers. No wonder then that most sailors avoid the shallows altogether and round the islands eastern coast despite the extra miles.

A shame because the locals in Catu village are genuinely curious about visiting yachtsmen, even when they are as spendthrift as yours truly.

Darn! Just when I was getting comfortable with my current crop of prejudices I find barren ground for nurturing my puissant cynicism.;)

 

A winning smile

Yes, I have to admit to being pleasantly surprised with Catu, but perhaps being invited to join this crowd for a brief chat and being accorded a generous share of their sugar cane cache amended my views. I also happen to be a sucker for a pretty smile.

While my Portuguese is almost as fluent as my Russian, Hebrew and Cantonese ;), I was making slow progress impressing the natives with my quick wit and dry humor. Having the vocabulary of a three year old can cramp your style, but I wasn’t going to let that deter me. Time to switch to plan B and draw my athletic Olympian physique and handsome features to attention. Surely that will win them over.

The outcome was never in doubt…., :(but at least I did raise a smile or two for my efforts). As a consolation prize I managed to gather reliable information on crossing the dreaded Punta Garcia bar to the south.

 

20m clearance at low tide!

Most sailors take the long way around Itaparica to avoid the bridge and shallow entrance, but as long as tidal information is taken into consideration, even a boat with a 20m mast and 2 meter draft can get through.

If you have a Yarmouth23, it’s ridiculously easy!!

Despite the perfectly protected anchorage and agreeable village atmosphere I only stayed two nights. I wanted to reach the previously mentioned Morro de Sao Paulo (supposed mecca for fun seeking Salvadorians), and not even a killer smile or plunging neckline could sway me from my chosen path.

Yes, on occasion I’m not known for being the brightest of lads….

Bound for Itaparica

 

Bedsheet and tablecloth sailing in Bahia Salvador

Convinced that there was more to Bahia than tourist traps and “gringos aren’t welcome here” zones, I motored Eileen of Avoca across the bay of Salvador to the northern tip of Itaparica. The island was once a popular getaway for the well to do of Salvador city and still attracts many a floating “gin palace” (or should that be a “cachaça palace” in Brazil?) on the weekends, but the “in the know” crowd have adopted Morro de Sao Paulo as their current playground…

I’ve taken note of this and will investigate soon… 😉

Mural map of the Bay of Salvador. Itaparica in green.

I found thirty or so sailing vessels anchored outside the marina. Quite a crowd, and not the most considerate in terms of swinging room. It’s an unwritten law that there must always be a few anchorage hogs with boats bigger and uglier than yours threatening collision as the wind or tide turns. For peace of mind I moved several times to avoid them. It’s times like these I wish I sailed a rusty steel monstrosity. 🙂

What could possibly draw so many yachtsmen here anyway?

Admiring the flora of Itaparica

Is it the women?

 

Where are the beach babes?

The beaches?

 

It's rush hour in Itaparica

The slow pace of village life?

 

The seaside promenade at Itaparica

The sea side promenade?

No…None of the above….

In fact it’s fresh water!

There is a natural spring across from the marina and everyone here is filling their tanks with wonderfully clear mineral water. Nobody dares taint their storage tanks with what comes out of the hoses at marinas elsewhere. So my first day was spent toting water to claim my share.

 

Filling up at the natural spring in Itaprica

I also tried to restock my boat larder but there is a very limited range of packaged foodstuffs to be had. Other than fruit, nothing is very fresh. If you are not quick enough to eat what you have bought, you get to share your biscuits, pasta or rice with all sorts of critters. Fine if you’re an entomologist, but I’m not too thrilled about the added protein, especially when I discover that I’ve been charged 20% more than what the price tags indicate I should have.

Hint: Advice from a local….Make a list of everything you buy and do the sums yourself. If you are asked to pay more, make a fuss! Even suggest that the police might want to check their dubious accounting practices.

 

Fortaleza Itaparica

The northern tip of Itaparica has its share of white sandy beaches though only the tidal sand spit across from the marina is frequented by the boating crowd. Other attractions include one old Dutch fort, a collection of reasonably priced restaurants / bars (the unreasonably priced ones are situated within the marina complex), and a small town feel.

Weekends is when things get lively as there’s usually plenty of organized entertainment in the main square. I had my heart set on a “Miss bikini” contest but had to settle for “drag queen night” followed by “children fantasy fashion night”.

Disgruntled, I did not linger in Itaparica….

Just another gringo with his camera

Like I said, the marina has seen better days!

So what wondrous tales of sybaritic excess have I to tell after my week long stay at Pier Salvador marina in Ribeira?

None!

While still harboring “great expectations” for Bahia, (I know I’ve experienced but a morsel of what the region has to offer) I’ve had to be satisfied with imbibing freely on its visual and auditory splendor (plus several cold beers for good measure).

Unfortunately I leave unsated.

No tourists on this beach in Ribeira

Yes, Salvador is the diverse and interesting metropolis I’d sought, yes, its beaches are spectacularly lively, and yes, music is everywhere, spontaneously encouraging both young and old to dance openly in the street (and wow can they dance!)….

However….

Music in the streets!

Salvador is also the first place where I’ve actually been made to feel like an intruder. Not at the marina, not at any of the restaurants or main tourist traps, so obviously not when I’m seen as a potential source of income (yes I’m a cynic!).

The “bad vibe” (a cynical wannabe hippie) is apparent when I’m out on the street, amongst the locals, making my habitual photographic rounds. Somehow I doubt it’s just a case of “gringo-photo-phobia” (fear of featuring in some tourist’s holiday snapshots, or heaven forbid… a sailing blog!).

No smile for the camera?

I chose to stay in Ribeira because it’s where the majority of tourists don’t. It’s my way of effectively mingling with the general population. Here the strategy has backfired!

Bahians appear troubled by my presence. It’s as though I’ve bullied my way into their last tourist free oasis. I’ve gatecrashed, an uninvited guest and I’m not sure they’re too thrilled about it.

Not too thrilled about being photographed…

Given that the city is overflowing with hoards of carnival party pilgrims, I can’t really blame them.

So if you were wondering why there are so few smiling faces in my latest collection of photographic impressions, you now know why.

It’s because the “gringo” with his pocket camera has been noticed!

Oops! I’ve been spotted…

So, I’ll just wander off to take a few shots without people in them before surreptitiously sneaking a couple in while they’re not looking… 😉

Knock knock….

Except it’s harder than you’d imagine…

Who’s there?

Ah! The secret is to catch them while they’re distracted…

Too busy to notice Mr Cameraman!

Yes, operation ice-cream is a success…

The best ice-cream in Salvador!

and I’m finally able to show you what the locals get up to on the beach…

Highlighting that Bahian tan!

Don’t ask me… I’m just the photographer…. but apparently this is the way the women work on their tan.

Under the inflatable doll tree

The men on the other hand look for some shade…

Sunglasses for sale, Ribeira, Salvador

Or shades?

Food served on the beach!

But Ribeira is not just beach, bikinis, beer and food stalls.

Freelance recycler

Some people have to work for a living (present company excluded).

Working out Bahian sty;e

Bahians don’t always get that lean muscular body by going to a gym.

I’m going this way…

I get mine by going for walks… 😉

Six days sail to Salvador, Bahia

Traditional dress, Salvador Bahia

So why would I set sail for Salvador Bahia (almost 500 NM away) after just a week in Jacare? Especially when I’m supposed to point Eileen in the opposite direction to reach my next objective (the Caribbean)…

You will just have to believe me when I tell you it just sounded like a good idea at the time.

When I heard other travelers speak of Salvador with its exotic mix of culture, music, religion and race, how could I let a measly 460 extra miles prevent me from experiencing the delights of this city?

Essential tropical sun shade and rainwater collecting device

Out came the fishing gear, up went the canvas sun shade and “ta-da”, I was on my way!

The winds along this part of the Brazilian coast are generally easterly but before I could turn south I needed sufficient sea room to avoid wrapping fisherman’s nets around Eileen’s propeller, or running aground while I slept.

It’s very shallow along the coast (with the 50m depth contour a good 15 to 20 miles offshore), so much of the first day was necessarily spent motoring eastward against the wind.

Once I’d bounced my way beyond sight of land I changed my course (to 220º) and settled into my now habitual cruising routine…

How am I supposed to cook this beast?

I dozed… sailed, snacked, and dozed some more… that is until my cruising stupor was interrupted by the shrill wail of my fishing reel. “Ha! Looks like dinner has taken the bait!”

With a burst of indefatigable hunger induced enthusiasm I set to processing my unexpected prize and made a fine meal (several in fact) of it……

Appetite sated, I continued on to Salvador only to be struck with a worrying thought. Is ciguatera poisoning prevalent in Brazil? Are mahi mahi (i.e. dorado), safe to eat in these waters?

Seeking help in Maceio

With doubt inspired paranoia now muddling my thoughts, I hurriedly altered course and angled toward Maceio. That way, I’d reach assistance relatively quickly if I happened to succumb to the agonies of nausea or vomiting. Ten anxious hours later, arriving in Maceio symptom free, I began to feel rather foolish about the whole affair.

Now I know that of all fish, dorado is probably one of the safest to eat, even in areas where ciguatera is the norm, but at the time…

I'm not eating my letter opener

My only other catch on route (it launched itself onto the deck at night), was a magnificent swordfish, which naturally I refused to eat…

Well it was too small for a meal anyway, but it does serve quite admirably as a letter opener. 😉

Salvador city, the elevator and marina

Three days later I was entering the bay of Salvador, passing the famous elevator and the infamously expensive and sometimes dangerous (especially after dark) marinas nestled at its base. I ignored them all and made for Ribeira to find Eileen a berth at the airport.

Yes, the airport!

I left my yacht at the airport!

Peir Salvador was once a proud airport terminal for seaplanes. It’s looking a bit shabbier these days but the service is exceptional (nothing like a welcome drink to make you feel at home!), the price is right (less than 1 Real per foot per day), and I’m in Salvador Bahia.

Relishing this city, its bay, beaches and surrounding islands, might prove to be challenging, but I’ll do my best, besides, someone has to do it.

I’ll let you know how I fare. 🙂

Bad sax and a Brazilian beach!

Marina Jacare

After three dreary days of sailing west from Fernando de Noronha, I finally arrived in mainland Brazil. Twenty days to sail across the Atlantic in a 23ft boat? Voila, all done!

I’ve been loafing about Jacare for the past week, which is several miles up the river from Cabedelo, which in turn, is just north of Joao Pessoa.

Never heard of these places? Me neither!

Until now it’s been a well kept secret among French speaking sailors requiring an inexpensive safe haven for leaving their yacht for extended periods.

Jacare sunset

Jacare itself has little to offer international visitors, but locals still regularly flock to it’s one claim to fame (just a stones throw away from the tiny marina), Bolero by sunset!  Every night hundreds of Brazilian tourists gather by the riverside developments to watch the sunset and listen to Ravel’s Bolero accompanied by a saxophonist standing in the prow of a small fishing boat. Apparently he’s quite a celebrity, whose musical accomplishments have spawned several copycat sunset serenade gigs in cities across Brazil.

Not my thing, but the story behind the commercial hype is worth mentioning.

Many years ago, a visiting Dutch yachtsman anchoring nearby made a habit of playing Ravel’s Bolero every evening. Why? Who knows! Perhaps he was fond of the movie “10” staring 80s supermodel Bo Derek, (that would be about the right era).

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Then try this link.

My turn next!

At any rate, a local fisherman enjoyed listening to these nightly serenades so much that before the sailor left he asked for a copy of the tape (yes it was in the days of cassette decks) and continued what was fast becoming a Jacare sunset tradition.

The current amateur saxophonist came later, but he is the one that has truly capitalized on the idea.

Given that he has played the same (somewhat repetitive) piece every night for umpteen many years, you’d be within your rights to expect a less dissonant performance.

But why bother with complaining?

Yes… it’s bad sax at sunset in Jacare, but nobody here cares.

For three hours the promenade is a hive of activity and who in their right mind wouldn’t want to have their photo taken by a musical concrete crocodile?

Village life in Jacare

Despite the ever expanding kitsch of modern tourist development, Jacare retains much of its quaint sleepy fishing village feel. If rest is what you seek (following your Atlantic crossing), then you can’t go wrong by stopping here. The family atmosphere amongst those staying at the marina is rare (if not unique) and as a bonus, it’s safe for the whole family to wander about at all hours. Some sailors are so content here that they haven’t bothered to budge in over five months! What more of an endorsement can a small village marina get?

Having failed miserably to meet a suitably attractive reason to linger, 😉 I’ve optimistically set my sights on reaching beautiful bustling Salvador (which should take me about 6 days). So, until then, I leave you to view my most recent holiday images.

Titute needs help

Introducing Titute, the newly adopted marina mascot. This poor little bitch suffered a broken a leg in an accident and the previous owners dealt with the problem by unceremoniously dumping her in the river to drown.

Titute's hero!

Luckily this man was on hand to rescue the drowning puppy, and with the help of antibiotics and pet food donated by resident sailors, she has made a remarkable recovery. Unfortunately, nobody dared, (or knew enough), to set the broken leg correctly so it is now almost useless, but a collection is underway to raise the funds needed to have her leg seen to by a vet. Even if she remains a three-legged canine, at least Titute has found a new home.

Fisherman mends his nets in Jacare, Brazil

As stated earlier, despite recent developments, Jacare retains its sleepy village atmosphere. You can sit watching local fishermen repair their nets, while children busy themselves tending their own charges.

Taking the goat water taxi

Brazil is clearly a country of striking contrasts. Rich, poor, modern or seriously outdated, it’s all on display here.

Jacare pedestrians

One minute you’re sharing an unpaved road with wandering livestock near a shanty town,

Working on maintaining that tan

while the next you’re hobnobbing it with the well to do, improving your tan by the sea. All this within just a few city blocks!

Pretend surfer?

Unsurprisingly, the nouveau-rich youth surf culture appears somewhat contrived… (especially when there is no surf… just surf boards and surfers). It almost looks as if everybody is reenacting b-grade Australian TV soaps from the 70s… Who uses zinc cream on their nose these days!!!

What to do while at the beach?

Mind you, the Brazilians can teach Australians a thing or two on how to appreciate a day on the beach…

Hang out at a palm shaded beach bar!

With a beach bar of course… Even in Holland this is a mandatory feature that’s strangely absent in Aussie surf culture.

Manu Chao

And why not have free beach concerts on weekends like they do here? Manu Chao live in Joao Pessoa this Sunday night. Beat that!

Can I make a withdrawal?

Not that everything is perfect here in paradise. Look how hard it is to get money from an automatic teller machine…

How to avoid Dengue Fever

I’m also becoming increasingly paranoid about mosquito bites for some reason…

It's a bustling busy life!

Despite this, I can’t understand why so many sailors race to the Caribbean when there is so much to see and do further south.

It's cattle class for me on the local train...

Look how easy (and cheap at 25 cents) it is to get around using local transport,

Gone shopping!

and you have got to love it when even shopping for simple provisions is an adventure in itself.

I like Brazil… so for now, Trinidad and the Caribbean can wait.

Fernando de Noronha

Taking a break before completing my Atlantic crossing

Ask a sailor that has been to Fernando de Noronha what it was like and he is sure to shake his head and grumble about it being ridiculously expensive!

With the excuse that it is mostly national park, there are all sorts of environmental taxes to pay and while imported goods are understandably dear, I still can’t understand how a pizza can cost more than 25 Euro.

I’d done my research so it didn’t come as a surprise to hand over more than 50 Euro a day for the privilege of anchoring half a mile from the harbour (reserved for local craft only), but as I’ve not spent a cent over the last 18 days, why not splurge a little now?

I stayed two nights and have the following collection of photographs to share with you:

My Atlantic crossing is almost over so why not take a break, relax a little and enjoy the view?

Yes, I think it might be possible to unwind a little here...

I think it is relatively safe to leave Eileen at anchor given the nature of my immediate neighbours, and

Anchorage security Brazilian style!

it’s not so bad sitting miles away from the harbour jetty if you can convince friends to offer the occasional tow.

Frederica and Daniel making life easier for me.

Once on land, it’s easy enough to get around town. Either hire a buggy (very popular with the locals),

I thought the VW based dune buggy was extinct!

or hitch a free ride on anything that happens to be going your way.

A Massey Ferguson all they way out here!

While parts of the island are obviously very touristic,

Get your Fernando de Noronha plastic back-scratcher here!

the authentic and apparently colourful life of the locals is also in plain view,

Little houses... on the hillside... little houses made of ticky tacky...

even if they don’t always appear very willing to converse… 😉

Young local girl trying to ignore me and the camera. 🙂

This island is billed as a surfers paradise, but it appears the best breaks are not to be found on the sandy beaches.

Surf but no sand...

Not that I mind missing out on the surf if I can amuse myself otherwise!

Ouch!

But Fernando de Noronha is not all just surf and sand.

It was hit by lightning!

There are shady parks to visit,

Fancy a walk in the park?

and several local bars to frequent.

Having coffee and a chat...

Though perhaps a glimpse of the islands past is more to your liking,

Ruins with a view.

or something more spiritual…

Going to the chapel...

Either way, this island will not disappoint. Living here a while would certainly be interesting,

If only I could take a peek inside...

and I’m sure those lucky enough to have been born on the island feel they have it made…

Living green

But for the moment, I’m just an observer passing through.

I wonder where they are now?

With a little more time at my disposal I hope to change that or I’ll never hear the end of it from my sailing friends upon reaching Trinidad.