Monsters on the Mana

The Mana River in French Guiana

The Mana River in French Guiana

It’s the rainy season, it’s hot, and I’m whiling away the hours of my free time fishing, swimming and playing tourist on the Mana River.

People often ask me if it is OK to swim in French Guiana. Nobody likes the look of the sediment filled water and it’s assumed the water quality is poor.

Well, it isn’t, and I have the study (Water Quality) to prove it… But….

…what of the creatures hidden in the murky depths?

I have it on good authority that despite what Hollywood would have us believe, the monster I caught on my fishing expedition the other day, isn’t the kind that eats swimmers…

I caught this one evening on the river Mana...

I caught this piranha one evening on the river Mana…

Yes, I share your doubts…

Bathing in the Mana has been taken off my list of things to do, more-so after locals explained to me that I should be more concerned about anacondas than piranhas!

The scale is in cm

The scale is in cm

Given what passes for a harmless common house fly in these parts, I’m in full agreement…In future,  I’ll stick to my occasional dips in the Maroni River where I’m more likely to come across a manatee than a monster.

I am a man of constant leisure….

Sunset in the Caribbean

On route to Tobago I had an epiphany! That was somewhere between collecting my free sky drinks and watching supper die at my feet..

Though I may have been somewhat swayed by a readers recent comment… 🙂

The poor mans water maker

I’ve decided I’m no longer a sailing bum… The term lacks direction… Certainly not fitting when I know exactly where I’m going… My GPS tells me!…. and today, like yesterday, it’s North West.

Easy fishing south of Trinidad and Tobago

Yes, I feel I’ve outgrown this label and graduated to “man of constant leisure” status. Queue music from “Oh Brother where art thou”…. I am a man…. of constant leisure….

Another sun sets…. Another beer bottle’s contents mysteriously evaporate….

So.. what was that you said you were doing?

Photos from Sal

Sal, Cape Verde

It is generally agreed among sailors here in Sal, that anyone sailing directly to Mindelo is missing out on some of the best of Cape Verde has to offer. I concur, Sal offers a fabulously safe anchorage, effortless formalities, and genuinely friendly village atmosphere.

Just be sure to check the price of everything before you commit (such as a visit to the hair salon… hint hint…), to ensure the few unscrupulous business types in town can’t take advantage you.

Perhaps the best way to describe Porto de Palmeira is with images. Below is my collection of favourites, enjoy!

The anchorage is one of the best in Cape Verde and your dingy is perfectly safe despite what the dated guide book might say.

Anchorage, Porto de Palmeira

The village has a pleasant sleepy atmosphere and everyone seems rather content.

Wandering around Porto de Palmeira, Sal

Certainly nobody here is going hungry, a boatload of fish is caught daily just a few hundred meters from the harbour entrance. I’ve never seen such abundance!

Fish in abundance around Sal

Water on the other hand is only available from the desalination plant. Not that it seems to bother the locals, just don’t expect to find a hose anywhere to fill your yachts water tank.

There is still plenty of time for recreation, here the locals wile away the hours playing the African equivalent of board games.

Just playing games on Sal

While the women take care of more domestic affairs. Amazingly, the art of crochet is not dead!

Being a little more productive than the men!

Order is maintained by the men in blue, they even recovered a stolen laptop briefly left unattended by a German crew.

Wearing the uniform with a swagger!

With what is perhaps a little excessive enthusiasm, children readily pose for your camera,

Children in Cape Verde

and even the local school teacher accommodates my impromptu photo shoot by re-establishing some order.

Order out of chaos!

So, what did I get up to while in Sal? Not much, just hung out at the local bar.

The mini bar! No backyard should be without one.

Checked the weather at the Cyber Cafe,

Time to update the blog.

and mingled with the locals.

It's the local hair models.

Had I been a little less strapped for cash I might have spent some money on locally produced music and a souvenir or two. I guess these photos will just have to do.

Local art, music souveniers... See this man!

I hope you enjoyed the visual tour.

The infamous Cape Finisterre and on to Bayona

Cape Finisterre in October

Camarinas was a just a ‘sleep stop’ but it was here that we said our tentative goodbyes to the crew of ‘Yayou’ as they pushed on towards Porto at an unsavory hour. I state “tentative goodbyes”, because we may yet catch up with Andre further south.

Another Bonito for supper

The rest of us rugged up for a 9am departure and set off in a chilly Force 5. As luck would have it, upon reaching the infamous Cape Finisterre, Aeolus let up on his puffing. The sea rapidly calmed, and we were able to motor to within a cable of the headland. What followed was a once in a life-time ‘hey mum, look at me’ photo-shoot, sailing between the mainland and Finisterre’s little island. The local fishermen must have thought we’d gone completely loco.

Fish feast (German family centre)

On route I managed to catch another whopper of a bonito, so after anchoring off a lovely beach in Muros, I set about preparing the catch of the day. Much too much fish for one person, so the usual crowd gathered on ‘Avel Vat’ and we invited everyone else at the anchorage (just one German registered vessel) to join us for a fish feast.

Force 6 with gusts of Force 7 the following morning had me scrambling to put in one reef after another. It took quite a while to find a sail combination Eileen appreciated, but when we’d reached three reefs for the mainsail and set a whisker pole on the stay-sail she settled down. Eileen of Avoca managed to glide effortlessly at 6 knots under this sail arrangement! Not too shabby for a little 23ft boat.

Life vest inflates!

Unfortunately the wind did not last, and now that we have reached Bayona the forecast is for more dead calms. Looks like I will be using the motor generously over the next few days.

Despite the novel easy-going conditions I’ve still managed to get into all sorts of trouble. The latest incident involved getting the inflation cord of my life vest stuck while lowering the mainsail.

Now that it has been unexpectedly inflated, the vest is almost useless until I can find a replacement CO2 cartridge and have the zippers reset. Naturally the type of cartridge I need is about as common as 23ft boats crossing the Atlantic!

Rounding Cape Saint Vincent to Western Portugal

How to tame boisterous children

Planning was high on my list of priorities as I methodically watched the weather forecasts pending departure. I did not care for a repeat performance of the previous days hair raising port entry. If I wanted to spend my free time surfing, I would have brought a Malibu board to Lagos rather than Eileen of Avoca.

As I waited for easterly winds, I busied myself with some serious relaxing at the beach occasionally burying a locals child to stop “it” running about and making a general mischief. Despite my best efforts, they continued to be a nuisance and even had the gall to find it all rather amusing. Oh well, I’ve never really been that good with kids.

Rounding Cape St. Vincent in calm weather

I’d decided the best way to tackle Cape Vincent was to leave at midday, round the cape during daylight hours and complete the total of slightly less than 80NM to Sines by night. The easterly winds dropped from force 4 to a gentle 1 and 2 overnight and while the sea maintained a significant swell, Cape Vincent came and went as an anticlimax.

Sprayed by dolphins

Dolphins escorted me for much of the journey, and their company was mostly appreciated, the exception being when a particularly cheeky individual would “sneak up” alongside Eileen and enthusiastically shock me awake with a spout of fishy smelling water. Who would have though dolphins had a sadistic sense of humour. I like them more and more each day! 😉

Aside from scaring the living daylights out of me by catching me unaware with their playful nocturnal antics, they effectively made sure I wasn’t going to catch any fish for supper.

I optimistically trolled with a brown lure (holding my newly acquired blue one in reserve), until at about midnight it was lost. to either:

a) the biggest fish I’d ever hooked (the dolphins at this point had vanished), or more likely;

b), a fisherman’ pot (even though I was at the 100m depth contour).

I’m newly resolved to fishing at night only when more than 10 miles off the coast.

At dawn I motored into the lovely little anchorage off the beach in Sines and set to work composing an opus in snore major.

Anchorage at Sines beach Portugal

Chipiona to Mazagon

Boarded by customs

I left Chipiona in mild weather, so it came as quite a surprise to find myself thoroughly tossed about in the muddy tidal ebb of the Guadalquivir river. As I crossed the line drawn by a sea colour change, the conditions settled and I enjoyed a trouble free ride all the way to Mazagaon, (a little less that 40NM to the northwest).

On route, my lucky blue lure caught me another free meal. Five miles from my destination, when I had just finished cleaning this latest windfall, I was taken aback when intercepted and boarded by Spanish customs.

My concern was that they might impose some sort of penalty as I belatedly wondered whether there might be size limits on tuna catches for these waters. I had heard horror stories of cruisers being fined several thousand Euro for catching octopus (apparently protected in some areas), and perhaps I’d fall victim to some obscure regulation of which I was totally unaware.

Friendly customs officers

As the customs vessel approached they indicated that they would come alongside, so I took out several fenders from the push-pit lockers and simultaneously stowed my questionable catch.

I needn’t have worried, while one officer sat (on the locker hiding my catch) reviewing my boat documentation, the other helped me decide which ports I should visit on my future travels along the Portuguese coast. They were very pleasant company and even posed for a couple of snapshots.

Snug at my assigned berth in Mazagon I set about the serious business of preparing my hidden treasure. Seared in very hot olive oil with a few bay leaves and served with sliced avocado, mayonnaise and a dash of pepper. A true delight.

Tuna steaks with avocado

It’s days like this that make me truly appreciate the cruising lifestyle. As I enjoyed an accompanying glass of white wine my only regret was that I had nobody with which to share the moment. My consolation however, was that there was a second helping of fried tuna to be had. 🙂

Fishing while cruising in the Mediterranean

Fortunately (for Gianluca), food would not be in short supply this trip. Up until today, I would have confessed to being one of the worlds worst fishermen. All I could show for two years of effort while underway (and the loss of innumerable lures), was one very small tuna and a seagull. Not anymore!

Dorado

Dorado

Behold… (see photo)

I had to stop fishing or I’d catch much more than the two of us could possibly eat!

Fishing, ha, there’s nothing to it. All you need is to be where the fish are.

Or perhaps it being almost November had something to do with it, or the fact that there were no other boats to be seen in the area (since loosing sight of Sardinia), or…

Frankly, I haven’t a clue, but that didn’t stop me fetching my copy of “The Cruiser’s Handbook of Fishing” by Scott and Wendy Bannerot, and with great enthusiasm learning to identify and clean my catch.

After a gruesome and surprisingly bloody job in which Eileen’s push-pit started to look like something out of a B-grade horror movie, we were ready for the good bit. Cooking and eating the catch of the day. I had never eaten such fresh fish, and I must say, Dorado fried in a little olive oil and seasoned with rosemary is truly exquisite.

Worlds worst fisherman

Day 14 and 15

Sea Bird

Sea Bird

Another long leg of 110NM to get to the eastern side of Crete. On route to Ayios Nikolaos we were treated to the best dolphin display I’ve ever seen. One dolphin was particularly playful lifting itself out of the water vertically on it’s tail and in a manner I’ve only seen in marine shows! Truly splendid.
I tried my hand at fishing while on route but only managed to capture a seabird. I think I was more distressed than my poor avian catch as I hauled him in to remove the offending lure. It appears I have been relegated to my former status of atrocious fisherman.

Destination Sibari

Kite Cam

Kite Cam

Wednesday the 2nd of May

I listened carefully to VHF channel 68 on route (an automated system continually broadcasts the marine weather forecast for Italy in an almost unintelligible manner) to determine if the calm conditions would last the night. As there was no mention of gale warnings I was confident of an easy run, and so it was until reaching Crotone at approximately 1am. No moon, my small world faintly illuminated by the tri-light and the red glow of the instruments.

The sea was almost pitch-black though my wake glowed intermittently, lit by mini vortexes of phosphorescent plankton. A spotlight pierced the dark and came to rest upon Eileen of Avoca. “What on earth…?”

The spotlight moved on and I made out the navigation lights of an approaching vessel. The glaring light returned. Should I continue? Should I stop? I took the latter option and waited to see what would transpire. All was still. A nearby dolphin leapt from the water adding to the surreal moment.

The blinding spotlight returned as a large gray motor vessel came alongside. I could just make out the silhouette of her crew as they came to within a few meters of Eileen. It was the Guardia di Finanza. They questioned me for nearly 20 minutes and then as unexpectedly as they had arrived they said their polite good-byes and disappeared into the night. How bizarre!

Little did I know at the time that the Calabrian Mafia families were feuding in Crotone and all unusual traffic was subject to careful scrutiny by the police.

Shortly afterward I had a most dazzling display by a group of dolphins. Dazzling because they were bathed in the neon glow of phosphorescent plankton. The spectral display as they performed their intricate dance under the bowsprit was breathtaking. If only I could have filmed this!
30 minutes later the wind returned from the N NE with a vengeance. It was 2am and I certainly was not in the mood to fight a headwind. I put in two reefs and set a course westward. A small marina just south of Punto Alice (Ciro Marina) and 10 NM distant offered me a convenient bolt-hole. One I was eager to use. By 4am I’d made fast to the quay and promptly went below to sleep.

Tuna

Tuna

By sunrise the fierce winds had died and the sea was tranquil once more. I rounded cape Alice, set my fishing line and sat back to enjoy the sunshine. Before long, and to my great astonishment, I finally caught my first fish. I confess that at the time I had no idea what sort of fish it was (apparently a small Tuna) but it looked edible.

Having finished my cooking fuel and being but a few hours from my final destination, I reluctantly threw my prize back. Eating my catch will have to wait for another adventure.
By 18:00 I’d navigated the incredibly narrow and ridiculously shallow passage into Sibari and made Eileen secure.

Thursday the 3rd and Friday the 4th of May were spent travelling by foot (6km), train (600km), metro (25km), foot (2km), and finally car (1500km), back to Belgium.
Eileen of Avoca will sit at Sibari for the next two months waiting for her next trip to Greece.

Ostia

Calm seas for Christmas

Calm seas for Christmas

It started to rain. Rummaging about in the lockers I found the large green canvas I generally use as a shade. Tonight it would serve; rather poorly as it turned out; as my water-resistant blanket.

Eileen motored on through the night. The only other vessel to be seen was the scheduled ferry passing well to the North on its way to the mainland in the wee hours of the morning.

By daybreak (Christmas day) the swell and wind had vanished and we made good progress (5kts ENE) on a smooth sea. The crew was feeling better so it was time to open presents. I am now the proud owner of a captains hat two sizes too large. Well at least there is room to grow.

By 3pm we had arrived at the new marina in Ostia the ancient port city of Rome. I’d tried my luck at some fishing on route, but true to form (I’d been trying to catch a fish all season) I came up empty handed. My fishing prowess has become the running joke with friends and family so my New Year’s resolution will be to reveal my currently latent fisherman’s skill.

Any and all tips greatly appreciated.

Ostia itself is not much to look at but there are good connections to Rome and the marina area is excellent (www.portoturisticodiroma.net), Transiting yachts: 13 Euro a night from October to March but 33 Euro in July and August.

Locals pack the boulevard on their nightly promenade and there are a multitude of restaurants and boutiques close at hand. Enough to keep Eva content as we sat out another round of bad weather just after New Years Eve.

The big night was spent in Rome and Eileen of Avoca served splendidly as our hotel for the remainder of our stay.