Ah, my loved ones. It's been amazing getting all of your updates and love now that I'm once again connected to you through this weird thing called the internet. I made it! Our passage here from the Perlas Islands was smooth as butter and sweet as nutella. I would know. We have a saturday chocolate-chip pancake ritual aboard Victoria and I shant make it through a night 'watch' without a spoonful of sugar (peanut butter and nutella, my addiction).
Pierre, Kim, and the boys attest to the fact that their Lord Nelson 41 has never seen happier days at sea. The barf bowl stayed in its "locker" and meals were prepared in our cozy galley without any major burns or spills. The tranquil water got more calm as we approached the Equator. Gently we rolled through a belt of wind known as the Doldrums. Cruising through mirrors of metallic blues, I now know an oblivion. And it just kept getting better. Time stopped but we just kept going, sometimes at a record speed of 1- 2 knots. We felt no hurry out there in the middle of Earth with no one else for miles and miles so the motor rested and our sails carried us slowly but surely southward on a course of 180 degrees. Piper sailed in tandem with us the entire passage to Ecuador. The mast light of our friends aglow in the vast darkness at 3 am as well as that faint white speck of sails on the horizon in daylight gave us a sense of comfort and safety. Our rendezvous point with Piper was near the town of Esmeralda in the Perlas. Before I continue, I must tell you of Esmeralda. For that visit, just as most every experience of this trip, changed my life.
Pierre, Kim, and the boys attest to the fact that their Lord Nelson 41 has never seen happier days at sea. The barf bowl stayed in its "locker" and meals were prepared in our cozy galley without any major burns or spills. The tranquil water got more calm as we approached the Equator. Gently we rolled through a belt of wind known as the Doldrums. Cruising through mirrors of metallic blues, I now know an oblivion. And it just kept getting better. Time stopped but we just kept going, sometimes at a record speed of 1- 2 knots. We felt no hurry out there in the middle of Earth with no one else for miles and miles so the motor rested and our sails carried us slowly but surely southward on a course of 180 degrees. Piper sailed in tandem with us the entire passage to Ecuador. The mast light of our friends aglow in the vast darkness at 3 am as well as that faint white speck of sails on the horizon in daylight gave us a sense of comfort and safety. Our rendezvous point with Piper was near the town of Esmeralda in the Perlas. Before I continue, I must tell you of Esmeralda. For that visit, just as most every experience of this trip, changed my life.
When I learned we would be going to a small town in the middle of the Perlas, I was ecstatic. For some reason, I envisioned a Menagio of Lake Como, Italy-- a quaint, old village that would dazzle me with stone paths and an abundance of fresh, colorful produce. I was apparently on Mars and obviously quenching familiar luxuries unbeknownst to a crew of 5 sharing 41 ft of space for weeks. As we got closer, I knew this place was different.
From deck, I could see people running about on the beach and a lot of sporadic activity on the water. I sensed no trace of order on that enchanted coast laden with wooden fishing boats and dark, energized bodies. Before I could blink, a smiling man was before me, paddling to us in a canoe and offering to assist us with shopping and finding our way around. Translating, I relayed to him that we would meet him on the beach on our own dinghy. He said he would be waiting and there he stood keeping his word with at least a dozen tiny children. Surely we set the world record for the most hands to pull a boat through the sand. An effortless feat over a hungry tide. It's challenging to describe my reaction to this scene. The children were so thin! I was worried but only wanted to convey love and so I did. They were the hosts of their deserted island town and fully present with no ties to our "real world" except for strange visitors like me, fatefully casts on their shore. The kiddies kept close to Kim and I as we meandered through colorful, humble homes. These shacks were the most basic of shelters and all of them filled with people. Children poured out of front doors, women sat at hand-made tables and played cards, and young men trained their cocks for fighting in my midst. I actually saw a cock fight! Just about everyone had a cock on a leash. The markets were more like concession stands on the porch of a few homes. No signs, no police, no worries. They had hardly anything to sell us besides a branch of bright green bananas and a few bite-sized snickers bars. One of the little boys caught wind of our chocolate and with bright eyes started pleading. There's no way I was going to deny a precious child chocolate so I gave them all I had. Kim was horrified because there was no way the chocolate was going to be enough for them all. The urgency gave me a superhuman confidence that they would actually share. After making the rounds out-of-body, we snapped a few photos, gave our kisses goodbye, shook our number 1 buddy's hand and drifted away. Slowly the town became just as it was. Just in sight and like a dream. One powerful thing caught my eye as I made my final strides out of town: A quote painted on the bare wall of a thus brightened abode. It spoke volumes to me and seemed to be the spirit of Esmeralda.
From deck, I could see people running about on the beach and a lot of sporadic activity on the water. I sensed no trace of order on that enchanted coast laden with wooden fishing boats and dark, energized bodies. Before I could blink, a smiling man was before me, paddling to us in a canoe and offering to assist us with shopping and finding our way around. Translating, I relayed to him that we would meet him on the beach on our own dinghy. He said he would be waiting and there he stood keeping his word with at least a dozen tiny children. Surely we set the world record for the most hands to pull a boat through the sand. An effortless feat over a hungry tide. It's challenging to describe my reaction to this scene. The children were so thin! I was worried but only wanted to convey love and so I did. They were the hosts of their deserted island town and fully present with no ties to our "real world" except for strange visitors like me, fatefully casts on their shore. The kiddies kept close to Kim and I as we meandered through colorful, humble homes. These shacks were the most basic of shelters and all of them filled with people. Children poured out of front doors, women sat at hand-made tables and played cards, and young men trained their cocks for fighting in my midst. I actually saw a cock fight! Just about everyone had a cock on a leash. The markets were more like concession stands on the porch of a few homes. No signs, no police, no worries. They had hardly anything to sell us besides a branch of bright green bananas and a few bite-sized snickers bars. One of the little boys caught wind of our chocolate and with bright eyes started pleading. There's no way I was going to deny a precious child chocolate so I gave them all I had. Kim was horrified because there was no way the chocolate was going to be enough for them all. The urgency gave me a superhuman confidence that they would actually share. After making the rounds out-of-body, we snapped a few photos, gave our kisses goodbye, shook our number 1 buddy's hand and drifted away. Slowly the town became just as it was. Just in sight and like a dream. One powerful thing caught my eye as I made my final strides out of town: A quote painted on the bare wall of a thus brightened abode. It spoke volumes to me and seemed to be the spirit of Esmeralda.
donde hay fe hay amor
donde hay amor hay paz
donde hay paz hay dios
y donde esta Dios no falta nada
where there is faith there is love
where there is love there is peace
where there is peace there is god
and where there is God there is everything
I met a cruiser at the Balboa Yacht Club in Panama who passed on a similar quote to me. One of his children told him this after many years of traveling at a young age:
"Dad, the happiest people in the world that we've ever met are the poorest"
Our passage to Ecuador was glorious, sublime, heavenly! I was lucky to have every sunset and sunrise watch in 3-hour shifts at the helm with complete responsibility of our boat. At night, everyone else is sound asleep and you have thousands of stars to keep you company. The phosphoresces of the water make patterns and I would always look for large illuminated blankets of what I imagined to indicate sea life. Could it be... a whale? A shark? A pod of dolphins? That alone time was so special. All senses enhanced, I've never felt so alive nor so sleepy doing the same task. I listened to podcasts on Kim's ipod (taking a new interest in the Discovery Channel's I Shouldn't Be Alive) and reveled in my music. At times I felt like the queen of the sea, sitting on my thrown with all the world before me. This was a sacred time, too. I made a wish on every shooting star. I'd get hungry on these night watches too. With our rations getting low, my go-to was a handful of raisons and a couple [heaping] spoonfuls of nutella and/or peanut butter. When night falls, everything at sea is magnified. The waves crashing, the wind roaring, and the creaks of our boat amazed me.
**I just learned a bit o'heritage about our boat! One of my fellow cruisers at the Puerto Amistad Yacht Club of Bahia de Caraquez, Ecuador offered me a little history lesson that I will pass on. It is the origin of Victoria's make: Lord Nelson. Once upon a time, there was a little 10 year-old boy who sat upon a wharf and asked a captain to let him sail. The Captain, fearing for the boys' life on such a perilous voyage, hesitated but ultimately honored the young lad's wishes. The boy survived and in time became the Captain's "Lord Nelson" and one of the greatest British Admirals of all time.
Victoria is delightful on the eyes! She came from Taiwan in 1983 (born the same year as your Sirena truly) and is dressed to kill in warm, intricately lain teak from Thailand. She's full of character and her grace is in her age although "practically brand new for a boat", so I've learned. I have an affinity for all things old and striking and she is the most beautiful vessel for the unfolding of my story.
Message in a bottle, thatched bamboo roofs, and giant tortoises!
Catherine
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