Santa Marta Colombia

Too lazy to go further than the beach or town square.

Too lazy to go further than the beach or town square.

Let me try to impart some useful information on Santa Marta in the form of pros and cons for yachtsmen contemplating landfall here.

Starting with the bad news:

  • It’s about ten times more expensive (about 250 US dollars) to stop in Colombia than in the windward islands. Why? Because it’s bureaucratic. By law you must employ an agent to do all your paperwork and it can take up to a week before it’s completed.
  • There are no Aguila girls.
  • You can’t go anywhere with your yacht once you arrive. Not without repeating the red tape and expense. Not even a little day trip to nearby beaches.
  • There are no Aguila girls.
  • The beach down town is fine for a walk, but I doubt my immune system would handle a swim.
  • There are no Aguila girls on the beach either…
  • While the town can boast being Colombia’s oldest, there really isn’t much left architecturally to support the claim.

So I spent my mornings by the seaside, and my afternoons in town at a café just soaking up the atmosphere. Which brings me to the pros:

  • Santa Marta has a great vibe! It’s a lively place. Vendors, tourists, street artists, restaurants, bars, you name it, it’s there and it’s all thriving. Even I had difficulty being bored once I’d worked up enough courage to leave my boat for the day.
  • It’s safe and it’s friendly.
  • If you are a little more adventurous than I am (which isn’t difficult), there are interesting places to visit just a short bus or taxi ride away.
  • But I’ve saved the best for last. While there were no Aguila girls in Santa Marta, I did find the next best thing. Two in fact.
  • Aguila Light girls!

The rest of my stay in Santa Marta is a happy drunken blur. Apparently Aguila light girls are no lightweights when it comes to partying.

Two reasons to stay in Santa Marta

Two reasons to stay in Santa Marta

Oh, and if the next time you ask a pretty girl in Santa Marta “what would you like to drink?” and she answers “Champagne of course”, you know who’s to blame. 😉

Miss Aguila part II (A failed Foray)

Calling all potential Aguila girls...

Calling all potential Aguila girls…

So going out mid week was not a great idea after all, even though I had the time and the venue just right.


La Puerta. Santa Marta’s hip and happening night spot.

With live music on a Wednesday night, I was not surprised to find the venue packed.

Everybody knows about the nightlife at La Puerta

Everybody knows about the nightlife at La Puerta

Dressed as best a sailor can (which isn’t saying much really), I started the evening with high expectations. How many quasi fair haired, blue eyed types with a 6ft plus stature can there be in a place like this? I should at least attract enough attention from the dark haired beauties to sneak a smiling snapshot or two.

No such luck. Somehow I managed to arrive in the midst of what must have been the annual Aryan eugenics convention’s night out.

I’d never seen so many tall, fair-haired, blue eyed, gentlemen of Germanic persuasion gathered in one place. And all of them better dressed, taller, younger and considerably more muscular than myself.

After one beer, I was out of there…

Sketch at La Puerta. The fellow with his hands raised probably gave up too...

Sketch at La Puerta. The fellow with his hands raised probably gave up too…

I’m old enough to know when I’m not in the race. Or in the same stadium in which the race is taking place. Or the same city for that matter… You get the picture…

My only consolation was that there were no Aguila girls in evidence.

Somewhat discouraged, I stole away from the festivities to focus what little energy I had left that evening on projects with a higher probability of success. Turning my three defunct ST-2000 tiller-pilots into at least one that might work.

Not that I’ve given up on my quest.

It’s just that I will have to devise an alternate “smart and cunning plan” to draw out the elusive Colombian Aguila girl.

Every man needs an obsession… and I hear that chasing leopards is so passe…

The hunt for Miss Aguila

Playing tourist on the beach in Santa Marta, Colombia

Taking bad photos on the beach in Santa Marta, Colombia…

Here I am at last on the beach in Santa Marta by the marina, camera in hand, and we… (that is, the camera and I)…, are not amused…

Royal anthropomorphisms aside, this was supposed to be a post full of images highlighting the bikini clad delights of Colombia enjoying sun, surf and sand. Let me assure you that nobody could be more disappointed than “yours truly” that I’ve not been able to deliver the goods.

Where oh where could those Aguila girls be?

Where oh where could those Aguila girls be?

I had to scour the Internet to find this photo as a stopgap to prevent my readership from lynching me while my search continues.

Could it be that the Aguila girl is a myth?

Because the only Aguila girls I’ve found so far look more like this…

No I'm not mistaken... It does read Aguila...

No I’m not mistaken… It does read Aguila…

Perhaps Santa Marta is where former Aguila girls go to retire?

In which case, there is still hope!

Bronze statues along the sea side promenade.

Bronze statues along the seaside promenade.

It’s academic whether the historic statues in the likeness of natives, prominently displayed by the seaside, should have been enough to dispel the naive preconceptions I apparently enjoy harbouring after watching too many beer ads.

But, as I’m not the appreciative artistic type, I’ve never really been all that interested in trying to understand it.

Friends of a more cultural and cerebrally inclined nature would frown upon my unadroit ignorance and lecture me on how the modern world is clearly reflected in the arts…

Art refects life or is it the other way around?

Art refects life or is it the other way around?

Yes… Perhaps I can see that… I might be making artistic inroads after all…

But I’d still like to find out where the Aguila girls are hiding. So I’m off on a bar crawl tonight to see if any are to be found where they keep all the Aguila.

What do you rate my chances as?


Aruba to Santa Marta, Colombia

A Renaissance Hotel beach in Aruba

A Renaissance Hotel beach in Aruba

OK, this is a tough one. I can say nothing bad about Aruba. My stay was hassle free, the people courteous, the facilities second to none and yet… and yet, I’ve been bored out of my wits.

This is definitely the place to go when you want to relax and do nothing.

The trouble is I do exactly that… every day! The last thing I want to do when I make landfall is nothing.

Your Hotel beach shuttle awaits!

Your Hotel beach shuttle awaits!

What fun is there in taking the hotel boat to the private beach when you have your own boat and see nothing but isolated beaches on an almost daily basis? 😉

What a conundrum! Do you suppose someone will let me mow their lawn or do some other fun activity like answer their phone in the office all day?

I took this photo from a bridge at the private beach.

I took this photo from a bridge at the private beach.

Oh look, a fish! How exciting… not… Let me take a picture…

Everyone that passed by wanted their photo taken by the white boat. :(

Everyone that passed by wanted their photo taken by the white boat. 🙁

If I were a gambling man, I’d be in paradise. Just ten paces from my mooring is the resort casino… Except I find casinos depressing. Nothing depresses me more than loosing my money (well, perhaps having it stolen does), so it remains a wonder to me that people frequent them at all. Or am I the only one that loses money in a casino… Perhaps there is a way to enjoy being depressed?

I’ll have to ponder that.

I think that the real reason I’m bored is that Aruba has very little to offer eligible young bachelors… or me for that matter… It’s a family destination.

Eileen of Avoca arrives in Santa Marta to a jubliant crowd.

Eileen of Avoca greeted in Santa Marta Colombia by a jubliant virtual crowd.

So I’ve braved the January gales (it really does get rather windy in this region), the enormous turbulent seas (OK, I’m starting to exaggerate now), and rounded one of the top 5 most dangerous capes (every sailor coming through here mentions this piece of J.Cornell trivia just to let others know how courageous they’ve been), and made the arduous passage to Santa Marta Colombia.


Haven’t I been brave? (rhetorical question… said with a dollop of sarcasm… just in case any of my so called friends were thinking of making some clever comment at this point).

Now, who else can I tell…