Wine tasting room at Pulenta
Marianne wondering how she can send this through checked luggage
Brady and Dick wondering if they can take a swim in Lake Malbec
Lunch of our lives
Monday, January 11, 2010
A Trip Through Wine Country
Wine tasting room at Pulenta Marianne wondering how she can send this through checked luggage Brady and Dick wondering if they can take a swim in Lake Malbec Lunch of our lives
A Trip Through Wine Country
OK, I’ve been remiss in my blog postings. With that said, I’ll try to play catch up.
A few weeks ago, Jose, our intrepid posada owner, set up a wine tour to Uco Valley. It’s about two hours south of here. Uco Valley is an area that has seen rapid investment in new wineries by big money foreigners. The buildings are architectural marvels out in the middle of what appears to be desert. It is beautiful with the 20K+ foot Andes as a backdrop.
Our day started as we piled into Jose and Eugenia’s cars and headed to our first stop at Pulenta Estates. Pulenta is in Ugartichi, on the way to the Valley. We greeted by our hostess, Maria. A little explanation is in order for those of you familiar with wine tasting. In California and New Zealand, you drive into any winery, go to the tasting room, get a few small glasses of their product, and move on to the next winery. Here, you must make an appointment and plan to be there for at least an hour or more. At Pulenta we started our tour with a walk through of their production facilities. It is a relatively new winery and the building appeared more functional than aesthetic. Maria gave us a history of the family ownership and their wine making philosophy. We eventually ended up in the storage cellar. You could see this was the area the architect put together his magic. The three buildings above ground were all connected below ground in a series of passages and connecting rooms. Our tasting took place in the center of the facility in a room with glass walls looking out to their barrel and bottling areas. A sunlight provided lighting. The room had one large table, about 8’ x 8’, and 8 chairs. It was set as if there was to be a meeting of their most influential distributors. It took me about five minutes to figure out it was set up just for us. We took our seats with four large glasses at each seat. Maria gave us three options to choose from, a flight of white, a flight of red, or a mix of each. A flight consist of three or more different wines usually offered in small samples. There was nothing small about the samples Maria poured. Nothing like firing down four large glasses of vino for breakfast. Jose probably has a discriminating palate, but for me, every wine was wonderful. After the fourth glass, I was starting to get nervous that we were overstaying our welcome. That’s just the time Maria sat down and pulled out a bottle of their Reserve. I now wondered if we would spend the entire day there. I’m not complaining as I was on glass numero cinco and each wine kept getting better. But it was only 11:00 AM. I’m sure Maria would have continued to pour us more glasses if we hadn’t told her we had appointments at another vineyard. Pulenta has an arrangement with Porsche Argentina and they make a bottle called the 911, named after one of Porsche’s famous cars. Their wine was great but I would have preferred the car. We paid Maria $10 for our tour and headed south.
Uco Valley was an hour and a half away. Imagine driving through SW Colorado/SE Utah, mostly rocky desert. As we crested over the hills entering the Valley, you could see a line of green, where every imaginable fruit and vegetable grows. The water comes from a river flowing from the peaks of the Andes. The Argentines have had about five hundred years to perfect their irrigation techniques and very little of the water gets wasted. We passed through a small town of Tupungato, which is named after the high volcano next to the area.
On to O. Fournier (www.ofournier.com/web/ar_06_in.html), a new winery built by a Spaniard who knew he could replicate the vineyards he owns in Spain. At first it looked like a flying saucer had landed on a building out in the middle of nowhere. It was some of the most amazing architecture I’ve seen. The place is huge. We were scheduled to take a tour and have lunch here. For you wine snobs, O Fournier has two wines rated at 91 and 93 by Wine Spectator, the industry standard. It was way out my league. As we were running late from our visit at Pulenta, we asked for the Cliffs Notes version of the tour. Even so, it still took a half an hour to get through the facility. When we were brought to the restaurant I was expecting to see a crowd. We were their only customers.
I could spend the next hour talking about the lunch we had. I will just say it was the finest lunch I’ve ever experienced. With the windows looking out on the snow capped Andes, impeccable service, and course after course presented like art work, it was all I could do to eat. Lunch also consisted of our wine tasting, except this time their was no limit on the glasses. Three hours later we stumbled out into the blazing sun.
We hustled along to our next stop at Andeluna. Andeluna is owned by Senor Lay, as in Frito Lay. I figure I’ve probably paid for his building through my purchases of Ruffles. We pulled up to the guard shack and the guard told us we missed our tour by a mere hour and the winery had closed at 5:00PM. Where did the day go?! I’m sure I hadn’t much over a dozen glasses yet.
We jumped back into the car for our two hour ride home. Back up the hill we noticed a bunch of crosses and little statues. I thought they were for all the people killed in car crashes, like we saw in Puerto Rico. It turns out they are for a mythical child lost in the hills. People regularly leave bottles filled with water for the child. Now it looks like a bunch of trash surrounding a makeshift cross. Only in Argentina.
When we got home, we grilled some beef and drank some wine for dinner. Why doesn’t my head hurt more? And why is it getting more difficult to button my pants?
A few weeks ago, Jose, our intrepid posada owner, set up a wine tour to Uco Valley. It’s about two hours south of here. Uco Valley is an area that has seen rapid investment in new wineries by big money foreigners. The buildings are architectural marvels out in the middle of what appears to be desert. It is beautiful with the 20K+ foot Andes as a backdrop.
Our day started as we piled into Jose and Eugenia’s cars and headed to our first stop at Pulenta Estates. Pulenta is in Ugartichi, on the way to the Valley. We greeted by our hostess, Maria. A little explanation is in order for those of you familiar with wine tasting. In California and New Zealand, you drive into any winery, go to the tasting room, get a few small glasses of their product, and move on to the next winery. Here, you must make an appointment and plan to be there for at least an hour or more. At Pulenta we started our tour with a walk through of their production facilities. It is a relatively new winery and the building appeared more functional than aesthetic. Maria gave us a history of the family ownership and their wine making philosophy. We eventually ended up in the storage cellar. You could see this was the area the architect put together his magic. The three buildings above ground were all connected below ground in a series of passages and connecting rooms. Our tasting took place in the center of the facility in a room with glass walls looking out to their barrel and bottling areas. A sunlight provided lighting. The room had one large table, about 8’ x 8’, and 8 chairs. It was set as if there was to be a meeting of their most influential distributors. It took me about five minutes to figure out it was set up just for us. We took our seats with four large glasses at each seat. Maria gave us three options to choose from, a flight of white, a flight of red, or a mix of each. A flight consist of three or more different wines usually offered in small samples. There was nothing small about the samples Maria poured. Nothing like firing down four large glasses of vino for breakfast. Jose probably has a discriminating palate, but for me, every wine was wonderful. After the fourth glass, I was starting to get nervous that we were overstaying our welcome. That’s just the time Maria sat down and pulled out a bottle of their Reserve. I now wondered if we would spend the entire day there. I’m not complaining as I was on glass numero cinco and each wine kept getting better. But it was only 11:00 AM. I’m sure Maria would have continued to pour us more glasses if we hadn’t told her we had appointments at another vineyard. Pulenta has an arrangement with Porsche Argentina and they make a bottle called the 911, named after one of Porsche’s famous cars. Their wine was great but I would have preferred the car. We paid Maria $10 for our tour and headed south.
Uco Valley was an hour and a half away. Imagine driving through SW Colorado/SE Utah, mostly rocky desert. As we crested over the hills entering the Valley, you could see a line of green, where every imaginable fruit and vegetable grows. The water comes from a river flowing from the peaks of the Andes. The Argentines have had about five hundred years to perfect their irrigation techniques and very little of the water gets wasted. We passed through a small town of Tupungato, which is named after the high volcano next to the area.
On to O. Fournier (www.ofournier.com/web/ar_06_in.html), a new winery built by a Spaniard who knew he could replicate the vineyards he owns in Spain. At first it looked like a flying saucer had landed on a building out in the middle of nowhere. It was some of the most amazing architecture I’ve seen. The place is huge. We were scheduled to take a tour and have lunch here. For you wine snobs, O Fournier has two wines rated at 91 and 93 by Wine Spectator, the industry standard. It was way out my league. As we were running late from our visit at Pulenta, we asked for the Cliffs Notes version of the tour. Even so, it still took a half an hour to get through the facility. When we were brought to the restaurant I was expecting to see a crowd. We were their only customers.
I could spend the next hour talking about the lunch we had. I will just say it was the finest lunch I’ve ever experienced. With the windows looking out on the snow capped Andes, impeccable service, and course after course presented like art work, it was all I could do to eat. Lunch also consisted of our wine tasting, except this time their was no limit on the glasses. Three hours later we stumbled out into the blazing sun.
We hustled along to our next stop at Andeluna. Andeluna is owned by Senor Lay, as in Frito Lay. I figure I’ve probably paid for his building through my purchases of Ruffles. We pulled up to the guard shack and the guard told us we missed our tour by a mere hour and the winery had closed at 5:00PM. Where did the day go?! I’m sure I hadn’t much over a dozen glasses yet.
We jumped back into the car for our two hour ride home. Back up the hill we noticed a bunch of crosses and little statues. I thought they were for all the people killed in car crashes, like we saw in Puerto Rico. It turns out they are for a mythical child lost in the hills. People regularly leave bottles filled with water for the child. Now it looks like a bunch of trash surrounding a makeshift cross. Only in Argentina.
When we got home, we grilled some beef and drank some wine for dinner. Why doesn’t my head hurt more? And why is it getting more difficult to button my pants?
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Cars of Argentina V
Nice parallel parking job on the third pic. But then he can just shove the guy out of his way. It's not like another ding is going to change the looks of those two showroom specials. 
Parking can get very creative here. In the middle of the street, on the side walk, who cares?
Parking can get very creative here. In the middle of the street, on the side walk, who cares?
Cars of Argentina III
I didn't say they were all beaters, but I'm not ready to start buying any of them soon.
It makes you wonder if they have paint at the body shops.
It makes you wonder if they have paint at the body shops.
Cars of Argentina I
Marianne has been inspired by 
the fabulous vehicles we see on the road. So now we carry a camera wherever we go to capture some of the true gems. We plan to keep adding to our collection and all the pictures we post will be of fully functional cars, although many won't look it. About half the cars here have been converted to compressed natural gas so the exhaust is not nearly as bad as you would imagine with these clunkers hitting the streets. Our understanding is the government puts such a heavy duty on imported vehicles that most owners make their cars last a long time. Most of these beauties have been seen in the US for over forty years.
the fabulous vehicles we see on the road. So now we carry a camera wherever we go to capture some of the true gems. We plan to keep adding to our collection and all the pictures we post will be of fully functional cars, although many won't look it. About half the cars here have been converted to compressed natural gas so the exhaust is not nearly as bad as you would imagine with these clunkers hitting the streets. Our understanding is the government puts such a heavy duty on imported vehicles that most owners make their cars last a long time. Most of these beauties have been seen in the US for over forty years.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Yippee Yie Kaiyay (sic)
Ride em cowboy, uh, I mean gaucho!
It was dad and crew off to the horseback ride in the mountains. Marianne stayed behind as she didn’t think her back would have handled the bouncing. She chose wisely as the bus ride to the ranch was bone jarring. The ranch is about twenty minutes from our house in Chacras, most of it on a dusty gravel switch back. It wasn’t New Zealand scary but it added to the experience.
When we arrived at the ranch, and I don’t mean like a ranch you’d see in the movies but more like a ranch you‘d see in central Mississippi, we were met by about ten wild dogs. I thought this should be interesting fighting off the dogs to get to the terrified horses. Turns out the dogs are part of the ranch (there goes that word again) and they are buds with the caballeos. Our guide introduced us to Orlando, an original Argentine gaucho in full regalia. I couldn’t figure out which was more interesting, the flat gaucho hat or the black slippers. They don’t wear boots in Argentina, apparently they’re too hot.
Everyone was assigned horses and shown how to saddle up. AnnMarie has done this numerous times but this was Brian’s first time ever in the saddle. No problem, except Brian didn’t have spurs. He spent a lot of time digging his heels into his horse’s side with little effect. I should have told him most tour horses are a bit on the slow side. At least mine didn’t try to throw me in the cactus, which is usually what happens.
The ride took us through the foothills of the Andes. We were in the shadow of Sierra Plata, a 6100 meter peak covered in snow. The big mountain, Aconcagua, at 6900 meters is about fifty km away. We rode mostly on sanderros, small twisty sand paths through the desert. I didn’t ask about rattle snakes. What I don’t know can’t hurt me.
We rode for an hour and then broke for tortitas and matte. Matte¢ is a strong tea that is sipped through a silver straw and shared by everyone. As our guide explained, it’s not so much a drink as an experience. The kids would have much prefered the experience of Sprite, based on the look on their faces as they sipped. The tortitas are soft biscuits filled with bacon. The bacon is really cow fat but who am I to complain when I’m miles out in the desert and the only guy with a knife is wearing stunning black slippers. Pass the matte¢ mate, por favor. Muy bueno!
We got back on the horses and headed for the barn. The dog pack was with us the whole time running in between the horses legs. I thought this was particularly funny when we were on the very narrow ledges winding our way through the hills. I was just waiting for one of the horses to stumble on the dogs. And I knew it wasn’t going to be Orlando’s horse. We made it back just as my ass went completely numb.
Back at the “ranch” (should I say it reminded me of Grenada after hurricane Ivan went over?) the kids got to play with kids. There was a coral of thirty of so baby goats. I think that may have been the highlight of the trip for Brian. We were going to have a goat roundup but it was time to get on the bus. Needless to say a good time was had by all, but I seem to be walking funny. I wish I had those slippers.
It was dad and crew off to the horseback ride in the mountains. Marianne stayed behind as she didn’t think her back would have handled the bouncing. She chose wisely as the bus ride to the ranch was bone jarring. The ranch is about twenty minutes from our house in Chacras, most of it on a dusty gravel switch back. It wasn’t New Zealand scary but it added to the experience.
When we arrived at the ranch, and I don’t mean like a ranch you’d see in the movies but more like a ranch you‘d see in central Mississippi, we were met by about ten wild dogs. I thought this should be interesting fighting off the dogs to get to the terrified horses. Turns out the dogs are part of the ranch (there goes that word again) and they are buds with the caballeos. Our guide introduced us to Orlando, an original Argentine gaucho in full regalia. I couldn’t figure out which was more interesting, the flat gaucho hat or the black slippers. They don’t wear boots in Argentina, apparently they’re too hot.
Everyone was assigned horses and shown how to saddle up. AnnMarie has done this numerous times but this was Brian’s first time ever in the saddle. No problem, except Brian didn’t have spurs. He spent a lot of time digging his heels into his horse’s side with little effect. I should have told him most tour horses are a bit on the slow side. At least mine didn’t try to throw me in the cactus, which is usually what happens.
The ride took us through the foothills of the Andes. We were in the shadow of Sierra Plata, a 6100 meter peak covered in snow. The big mountain, Aconcagua, at 6900 meters is about fifty km away. We rode mostly on sanderros, small twisty sand paths through the desert. I didn’t ask about rattle snakes. What I don’t know can’t hurt me.
We rode for an hour and then broke for tortitas and matte. Matte¢ is a strong tea that is sipped through a silver straw and shared by everyone. As our guide explained, it’s not so much a drink as an experience. The kids would have much prefered the experience of Sprite, based on the look on their faces as they sipped. The tortitas are soft biscuits filled with bacon. The bacon is really cow fat but who am I to complain when I’m miles out in the desert and the only guy with a knife is wearing stunning black slippers. Pass the matte¢ mate, por favor. Muy bueno!
We got back on the horses and headed for the barn. The dog pack was with us the whole time running in between the horses legs. I thought this was particularly funny when we were on the very narrow ledges winding our way through the hills. I was just waiting for one of the horses to stumble on the dogs. And I knew it wasn’t going to be Orlando’s horse. We made it back just as my ass went completely numb.
Back at the “ranch” (should I say it reminded me of Grenada after hurricane Ivan went over?) the kids got to play with kids. There was a coral of thirty of so baby goats. I think that may have been the highlight of the trip for Brian. We were going to have a goat roundup but it was time to get on the bus. Needless to say a good time was had by all, but I seem to be walking funny. I wish I had those slippers.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Marianne's second look
Hola!
O.K, O.k. I was told that my e-mail was too scary….now I will tell of the bright side….The house is beautiful…the weather is fantastic….I look out over the swimming pool to the olive orchard in the back of the property….We were treated to a traditional Argentinean (meat roast) complete with salad and tomatoes with olive oil, pork sausages and Blood sausage for appetizers ( do I need to mention that Dick asked what was in the blood sausage and everyone laughed!!). The loma or steaks were fantastic and the local beer and wine are over the top. At $3 for a bottle of wine Dick is in heaven.
We took the local bus into the big city of Mendoza…it looked and felt almost European with outdoor cafes and little kiosks selling candy and gum. We ordered lomo sandwiches…slice of meat, cheese, ham, fried egg, lettuce and tomato. We walked to one of the town squares and strolled a Sat. art/craft fair…it was good for practicing Spanish…The people were mostly young Rastafarians and Argentinean hippies. The people dress the same as anywhere else…maybe a bit more casually. We were able to locate an Argentina soccer shirt for Brian, he was in heaven.
We went to Mass on Sunday. A little church up the street. Brady, and Dick were overdressed in collared shirts…everyone was in jeans except the very old. We sat on 2x4’s and knelt on 2x4’s …wow.. does that hurt. AnnMarie thought she was going to pass out from the pain. I had to give her the old “ think how Christ and his disciples suffered” Did I mention that it really hurt! Other than that, it was the same mass only in Spanish. They had singing but no music, not a single instrument. The hand shake of peace was the traditional Argentinean greeting…a kiss on the right cheek., to everyone around you. It was strange to be kissing men and women you did not know!!
Jose gave us ride to the big grocery store yesterday (still smaller than Giant Eagle). He drove us in his car…a 1966 Ford pick- up truck. It has a 1966 radio that doesn’t work, and a huge speedometer that also doesn’t work. I had to sit close to Dick in the front seat so I wouldn’t get in the way of the 3footlong stick-shift in the center. I braced myself on the duck tape covered gear box, and Dick rolled down the window and then threw the handle up on the dashboard. The truck is a lovely white primer, and though you can not see the road through the floor…you know it is there. Driving down the dusty road I know I am in Argentina…I feel like I am in a movie…I should be doing something dangerous …or glamorous. ..Instead I have to remind myself that I am on my way to buy groceries…
It is both dangerous AND glamorous.
Adios
Marianne
O.K, O.k. I was told that my e-mail was too scary….now I will tell of the bright side….The house is beautiful…the weather is fantastic….I look out over the swimming pool to the olive orchard in the back of the property….We were treated to a traditional Argentinean (meat roast) complete with salad and tomatoes with olive oil, pork sausages and Blood sausage for appetizers ( do I need to mention that Dick asked what was in the blood sausage and everyone laughed!!). The loma or steaks were fantastic and the local beer and wine are over the top. At $3 for a bottle of wine Dick is in heaven.
We took the local bus into the big city of Mendoza…it looked and felt almost European with outdoor cafes and little kiosks selling candy and gum. We ordered lomo sandwiches…slice of meat, cheese, ham, fried egg, lettuce and tomato. We walked to one of the town squares and strolled a Sat. art/craft fair…it was good for practicing Spanish…The people were mostly young Rastafarians and Argentinean hippies. The people dress the same as anywhere else…maybe a bit more casually. We were able to locate an Argentina soccer shirt for Brian, he was in heaven.
We went to Mass on Sunday. A little church up the street. Brady, and Dick were overdressed in collared shirts…everyone was in jeans except the very old. We sat on 2x4’s and knelt on 2x4’s …wow.. does that hurt. AnnMarie thought she was going to pass out from the pain. I had to give her the old “ think how Christ and his disciples suffered” Did I mention that it really hurt! Other than that, it was the same mass only in Spanish. They had singing but no music, not a single instrument. The hand shake of peace was the traditional Argentinean greeting…a kiss on the right cheek., to everyone around you. It was strange to be kissing men and women you did not know!!
Jose gave us ride to the big grocery store yesterday (still smaller than Giant Eagle). He drove us in his car…a 1966 Ford pick- up truck. It has a 1966 radio that doesn’t work, and a huge speedometer that also doesn’t work. I had to sit close to Dick in the front seat so I wouldn’t get in the way of the 3footlong stick-shift in the center. I braced myself on the duck tape covered gear box, and Dick rolled down the window and then threw the handle up on the dashboard. The truck is a lovely white primer, and though you can not see the road through the floor…you know it is there. Driving down the dusty road I know I am in Argentina…I feel like I am in a movie…I should be doing something dangerous …or glamorous. ..Instead I have to remind myself that I am on my way to buy groceries…
It is both dangerous AND glamorous.
Adios
Marianne
Dick's Rebuttal
Ok, now it’s my turn to do the blog entry. While I won’t go so far as to call the drive from the airport a “trip though Beirut” I will admit it was dry, dusty, and somewhat impoverished. That was quickly put aside as we settled into our new home. The Posada Olivar is quite lovely in an old hacienda way. There are many pictures of the original owners still hanging on the walls. The furniture is mostly from the early 1900’s. And any minute you expect Juan Peron to peek his head in the door. It is our caretaker, JoseLuis’, grandparent’s house. Jose is in his mid twenties and trying to make a go of this bed and breakfast. Right next to our house is the new building with five guest rooms, sitting area, and kitchen (being built as I write.) We’ve become good friends with Jose and his girlfriend, Eugenia. Both speak very good English and have become our go-to source of local info. The gardener is actually JoseLuis’ uncle, Senor Martin. He’s actually a great guy, always smiling and moving at a snail’s pace as he rakes the lawn or moves the flood gates. It seems they irrigate by opening up small flat metal plates in various ditches around the estate. The water all comes from snow melt off the Andes and the water is diverted to various communities on a weekly basis. When we first arrived we had a raging stream running right along the side of the lawn. Three days later it was bone dry. Today, it’s running fast. There’s no drip irrigation in effect here. The estate is filled with many different kinds of trees and for the most part is green. We have an olive orchard in the back. The house has a nice kitchen with dishware most likely seen at your friendly garage sale. The rooms are large with tile floors. Our bedrooms are simple yet comfortable I will agree with Marianne that lamp shades are non essential equipment in Argentina. It all works though, and the troop seems to be acclimating well. It certainly helps that we have our own swimming pool. And Brian has his own soccer pitch out back complete with goals.
The first thing I learned in Argentina is they take their siesta seriously. Everything shuts down between 1:00 and 5:00. It’s like a ghost town. Nightlife begins at 10:00 so that blanks us from hitting the restaurants. There are no supermarkets in Chacras but there is an American size grocery in Palmeras, about a five minute drive from here. Most of the time we pick up meat from the carneseria, bread from the paneseria, fruit and veggies from the verduria, wine from the bodega, and the balance from the mini mart. Food prices are par with the US except for meat and wine, which is much less. They aren’t kidding when they say beef is the mainstay of the Argentine diet. I don’t know if my heart is going to be able to handle our stay here, but it sure tastes good. The beer is all lager and brewed locally. The wine is strong but that may be more a factor of cost versus style.
Last weekend was our first big foray to the el Centro (downtown for you tourista types.) We packed our bag and headed for the bus stop. It turns out the bus only takes coins and nobody has any. I mean nobody. I must have hit up ten stores for cambio and they had about four pesos between the lot of them. Now I know why the shopkeepers are so loose when giving back change. Everything is rounded up to a paper bill. No one can explain the shortage of coins, it’s just one of those things. Finally I was able to round up enough coins once we went back and raided JoesLuis’ piggy bank. And we’re off. The municipal bus system is very efficient and crowded but you may have to wait a while for your bus. We’re about twelve km from downtown Mendoza which seemed to take us a half hour. Not the most comfortable ride but a good way to see the neighborhoods. El Centro is a mixture of high end clothing stores, tiny kiosks, outside cafes, and glaring billboards/signs everywhere. Saturday is very busy as all the cafes were booming. You can’t do anything between 1 and 5 so you may as well eat and drink. And yes there is a McDonalds. I was proud we chose a local establishment to wolf down a side of beef before our walk around the Plaza Independencia. As in almost every Spanish colonial city, there is the main square or plaza. Mendoza is the capital of the province so it’s the largest city on this side of the country. You get a sense that it’s a country still trying to figure out its place. The economic collapse of 2001 has stifled investment and you don’t see much new construction. They got the double whammy as the recession/depression of the last year has really hit them hard. The folks we’ve met have all been well educated but the good jobs are not in this country. I never felt threatened but I’m not sure I would want to be cruising away from the central market after hours. You’re never far away from the Andes and when the wind blows it carries dust from the plains. So everything seems to have a coating of dust which gives the impression of old and tired. But it certainly isn’t Bahdad.
Sunday, JoseLuis invited us to an Argentine lunch. He got the wood grill going and cooked more beef (are you seeing a trend here?) His sister and her kids came along with Eugenia. We also had a couple from Seattle who were staying at the new house. AnnMarie picked flowers from around the yard and it was a gala affair. A couple bottles of wine and cervaza, and the afternoon disappeared. Life definitely goes at a slower pace.
We haven’t hit the vineyards or for that matter, we haven’t done much of anything except get the home schooling routine back on track. We still plan to do some biking, horseback riding, and river rafting. We’re trying to make plans to head down to Bariloche in late Feb for two months. Sometime before then we hope to get up to Machu Pichu. But right now, I think I’ll make a beef sandwich.
The first thing I learned in Argentina is they take their siesta seriously. Everything shuts down between 1:00 and 5:00. It’s like a ghost town. Nightlife begins at 10:00 so that blanks us from hitting the restaurants. There are no supermarkets in Chacras but there is an American size grocery in Palmeras, about a five minute drive from here. Most of the time we pick up meat from the carneseria, bread from the paneseria, fruit and veggies from the verduria, wine from the bodega, and the balance from the mini mart. Food prices are par with the US except for meat and wine, which is much less. They aren’t kidding when they say beef is the mainstay of the Argentine diet. I don’t know if my heart is going to be able to handle our stay here, but it sure tastes good. The beer is all lager and brewed locally. The wine is strong but that may be more a factor of cost versus style.
Last weekend was our first big foray to the el Centro (downtown for you tourista types.) We packed our bag and headed for the bus stop. It turns out the bus only takes coins and nobody has any. I mean nobody. I must have hit up ten stores for cambio and they had about four pesos between the lot of them. Now I know why the shopkeepers are so loose when giving back change. Everything is rounded up to a paper bill. No one can explain the shortage of coins, it’s just one of those things. Finally I was able to round up enough coins once we went back and raided JoesLuis’ piggy bank. And we’re off. The municipal bus system is very efficient and crowded but you may have to wait a while for your bus. We’re about twelve km from downtown Mendoza which seemed to take us a half hour. Not the most comfortable ride but a good way to see the neighborhoods. El Centro is a mixture of high end clothing stores, tiny kiosks, outside cafes, and glaring billboards/signs everywhere. Saturday is very busy as all the cafes were booming. You can’t do anything between 1 and 5 so you may as well eat and drink. And yes there is a McDonalds. I was proud we chose a local establishment to wolf down a side of beef before our walk around the Plaza Independencia. As in almost every Spanish colonial city, there is the main square or plaza. Mendoza is the capital of the province so it’s the largest city on this side of the country. You get a sense that it’s a country still trying to figure out its place. The economic collapse of 2001 has stifled investment and you don’t see much new construction. They got the double whammy as the recession/depression of the last year has really hit them hard. The folks we’ve met have all been well educated but the good jobs are not in this country. I never felt threatened but I’m not sure I would want to be cruising away from the central market after hours. You’re never far away from the Andes and when the wind blows it carries dust from the plains. So everything seems to have a coating of dust which gives the impression of old and tired. But it certainly isn’t Bahdad.
Sunday, JoseLuis invited us to an Argentine lunch. He got the wood grill going and cooked more beef (are you seeing a trend here?) His sister and her kids came along with Eugenia. We also had a couple from Seattle who were staying at the new house. AnnMarie picked flowers from around the yard and it was a gala affair. A couple bottles of wine and cervaza, and the afternoon disappeared. Life definitely goes at a slower pace.
We haven’t hit the vineyards or for that matter, we haven’t done much of anything except get the home schooling routine back on track. We still plan to do some biking, horseback riding, and river rafting. We’re trying to make plans to head down to Bariloche in late Feb for two months. Sometime before then we hope to get up to Machu Pichu. But right now, I think I’ll make a beef sandwich.
Rio Dulce stays north, Costigan's go south
Traveling to Mendoza
The day arrived….the bags were packed….each of them, we would come to find out, was 2 to 6 lbs overweight…scramble, shuffle, reload into back packs…and we are off. Security, passports, more security, more showing of the passports, and we are off.
Fast forward…Wednesday Morning out the windows…The Andes..WOW with snow on top! The sky is gray and overcasts. It appears that no one lives in Santiago. We change planes and fly into Mendoza. But wait… it looks like the moon….a desert moon…it is brown with tumble weeds as far as the eyes can see.
This is bad.
The airport is like Akron/Canton… in New Mexico or West Texas, as Dick likes to say. It is dry and cement colored and scary…what have we gotten ourselves into….
The driver picks us up. Now we are driving through Beirut….There are tin and cement shacks everywhere…some with sheets for walls and roofs.
The cars driving by are every color, style, and overhaul imaginable from 1972. Did I mention the shacks, the rows and rows of shacks.
This could be bad.
Brian is afraid and wants to go home. This has been a horrible mistake. I am starting to agree with him.
After a half hour we begin to see trees and green things…then a little shop…than a restaurant…..than a school…a little square.
We turn onto a driveway behind a wall with a gate. It is an oasis. There are trees and grass and flowers and the house… is lovely.
But wait…who are all of these people….the owner, his girlfriend, the house keeper, another woman ironing, in what I think is my kitchen…wait…the owner is staying in the small bedroom off the kitchen? What? Who is the man walking by the window 10,000 times? The gardener. Who is the man with the dog? The other gardener. We have not rented a house but have rented a house in a small village.
I am afraid.
It is now day three. The sky is blue, the temperature is perfect.
Now I notice the little things…everything in the grocery store is unfamiliar. I can, however, recognize all of the meat, fruits and most of the vegetables. Checking for food allergies is difficult but soy flour has not found its way here yet it seems. Milk, OJ, tomatoes sauce, mustard, and ketchup, comes in bags (like drink bags) or small boxes (like juice boxes). They do not have grape jelly or peanut butter. They do not seem to have pretzels but I am told they have pizza. The local shops are all mom and pop shops…you go to the butcher to get your meat. They really do go out to eat at 10pm for dinner. There are a lot of restaurants close by but I doubt we will be able to stay up that late!
The Kitchen (for you Sandra) has two big pots, two skillets, and a strainer. There is one kitchen towel. No hot pads, no measuring cups, no measuring spoons. 4 wooden cutting boards from 1945 that are as black as coal. There are two big knives, both as sharp as the side of a plastic fork. But you can drink le aqua.
It is an old style Posada. All of the lights are bare bulbs….all the lights are bare bulbs..all the lights. The floors are tile. I think the housekeeper ran off with the broom and mop. I can not find them.
Each night I do the dishes before bed (no dishwasher). The first night I left a pan to soak. In the morning it was clean…
Last night I again left a few things in the sink undone….in the morning they are done….
I put a bottle of oil in the cupboard….this morning it was on a paper towel in a little wooden bowl in the cupboard……I am again afraid…..is it the gardener?
The day arrived….the bags were packed….each of them, we would come to find out, was 2 to 6 lbs overweight…scramble, shuffle, reload into back packs…and we are off. Security, passports, more security, more showing of the passports, and we are off.
Fast forward…Wednesday Morning out the windows…The Andes..WOW with snow on top! The sky is gray and overcasts. It appears that no one lives in Santiago. We change planes and fly into Mendoza. But wait… it looks like the moon….a desert moon…it is brown with tumble weeds as far as the eyes can see.
This is bad.
The airport is like Akron/Canton… in New Mexico or West Texas, as Dick likes to say. It is dry and cement colored and scary…what have we gotten ourselves into….
The driver picks us up. Now we are driving through Beirut….There are tin and cement shacks everywhere…some with sheets for walls and roofs.
The cars driving by are every color, style, and overhaul imaginable from 1972. Did I mention the shacks, the rows and rows of shacks.
This could be bad.
Brian is afraid and wants to go home. This has been a horrible mistake. I am starting to agree with him.
After a half hour we begin to see trees and green things…then a little shop…than a restaurant…..than a school…a little square.
We turn onto a driveway behind a wall with a gate. It is an oasis. There are trees and grass and flowers and the house… is lovely.
But wait…who are all of these people….the owner, his girlfriend, the house keeper, another woman ironing, in what I think is my kitchen…wait…the owner is staying in the small bedroom off the kitchen? What? Who is the man walking by the window 10,000 times? The gardener. Who is the man with the dog? The other gardener. We have not rented a house but have rented a house in a small village.
I am afraid.
It is now day three. The sky is blue, the temperature is perfect.
Now I notice the little things…everything in the grocery store is unfamiliar. I can, however, recognize all of the meat, fruits and most of the vegetables. Checking for food allergies is difficult but soy flour has not found its way here yet it seems. Milk, OJ, tomatoes sauce, mustard, and ketchup, comes in bags (like drink bags) or small boxes (like juice boxes). They do not have grape jelly or peanut butter. They do not seem to have pretzels but I am told they have pizza. The local shops are all mom and pop shops…you go to the butcher to get your meat. They really do go out to eat at 10pm for dinner. There are a lot of restaurants close by but I doubt we will be able to stay up that late!
The Kitchen (for you Sandra) has two big pots, two skillets, and a strainer. There is one kitchen towel. No hot pads, no measuring cups, no measuring spoons. 4 wooden cutting boards from 1945 that are as black as coal. There are two big knives, both as sharp as the side of a plastic fork. But you can drink le aqua.
It is an old style Posada. All of the lights are bare bulbs….all the lights are bare bulbs..all the lights. The floors are tile. I think the housekeeper ran off with the broom and mop. I can not find them.
Each night I do the dishes before bed (no dishwasher). The first night I left a pan to soak. In the morning it was clean…
Last night I again left a few things in the sink undone….in the morning they are done….
I put a bottle of oil in the cupboard….this morning it was on a paper towel in a little wooden bowl in the cupboard……I am again afraid…..is it the gardener?
Friday, March 13, 2009
Not quite news
Contrary to popular rumor, I have not fallen off the face of the earth. I’ve just fallen off the wagon. And, yes, thanks for all those wonderful comments how I run possibly the worst blog known to mankind. As my good friend, Paul, once told me, place blame immediately. The responsibility for the blog has been assigned to our oldest. If you think he’s been lacking, send your comments to him, not me. I’m busy trying to keep this boat on an even keel. It’s tough work with this motley crew.
So where do I begin. Since you last left us we had just won the CYO Cross Country championship…no, that’s too far back. Let’s pick it up at Christmas. Pulled into Georgetown just in time for the holidays. Did some in harbor caroling with the elves off GottaLife. A great time was had by all, but the best Xmas was had by AnnMarie. If you don’t believe in Santa, just ask her about her owl ring.
From there we jumped into the new year, playing on the beach with the kids off GottaLife, Nina, 3 @ Sea, and More Cowbell (I’m not making up that last name, that’s really the name of their boat. They‘re from Houston which kind of explains it.) In the meantime, Brian (of GottaLife, hereafter called Big Brian, not to be confused with Barnacle Brian, the red headed whirling dervish) and I worked on getting various systems up and running on Rio Dulce. Seems we’ve been doing this for twenty years. Oh that’s right, we have. In fact Big Brian still has the tee shirts he wore when he worked on Avalon. Only this time I won’t let him anywhere near our heat exchangers. There wasn’t much we could do on the broken prop, but we changed out alternators and got the watermaker working. It’s always nice to wake up to batteries that aren’t so weak they couldn’t power a flashlight.
The second miracle of the trip (see AnnMarie’s Xmas for #1) happened one Sunday in the middle of January when another Catana showed up in the harbor. We stopped by to introduce ourselves and after a few minutes of chatting, Marianne asked if they happened to have any spare propellers. “Why as a matter of fact, we’ve got two.” Once again your favorite luck bucket hit the mother load. After a bit of wheeling and dealing, I had the new prop on the port sail drive later that day. We were back to being fully functional. Now it was time to do some exploring.
We decided we’d head off to Long Island. Instead of heading to the northern anchorages, scene of one of our more adventurous cruises with the Kornicks, we went to the center of the island. It’s not like we discovered the lost paradise as there were twenty five boats already in the harbor. But it was very cool. There’s an American couple who have built a small resort and bar, the Long Island Breeze, who couldn’t have been friendlier to cruisers. We showed up with a contingent of kids, running around, jumping into their pool, and tying up their wifi. We hadn’t had this much fun since Emerald Bay closed. GottaLife, 3 @ Sea, and we rented a couple cars to explore the entire ninety miles of the island. It’s much different than the rest of the Bahamas as you could tell people were genuinely happy to see you. The highlight of the ride was our stop at the blue hole. This hole drops down over six hundred feet and it’s about twenty feet off the beach. The hole is halfway surrounded by cliffs, so after diving down as deep as you can, then you can jump off the cliffs into it. Check us out on YouTube under “From the Pilothouse.” We finished off our Long Island experience with a Tropic of Cancer party aboard 3 @ Sea. Man, those trawler folks can party.
It was time to get back to Georgetown to hide from the third cold front of the season. Usually when we talk about cold fronts, it’s mostly about the wind. This year it’s been mostly about the cold. Marianne is wearing more fleece than she did in South Carolina. The fronts haven’t been packing the punch as previous years so we miss the all the emergency calls about anchor dragging. The boat count was growing in anticipation of the Cruisers Regatta. There were over two hundred boats in the harbor so when anchors start dragging it’s wildly entertaining to listen to the radio. Think pinball with twenty ton boats. All semblance of civility is gone in about two seconds. We were looking forward to good forty knot breeze, only to be disappointed when it barely topped thirty. Kinda takes the fun out of it when you don’t hear those anguished cries at midnight screaming about crossed anchor chains and bowsprits through the rigging.
We spent another week in Georgetown as the kids never seem to tire of it. We even got a chance to sail Nina out of the harbor. Nina is a 75 foot wood schooner built in 1920 with no depth sounder or instruments. She’s won nearly every classic boat race ever held. They were headed for Jamaica and then to Panama. I’m not ready to give up catamarans but it was very cool to be at the helm of such a beauty.
Also in the harbor was another Catana. We had heard rumors of this boat coming from Houston, so when Kaya arrived we raced over to meet her. You’d think Milano Myst would have been enough Houston for one man to take, now I’ve got More Cowbell and Kaya to contend with. Charlie, off Kaya, is a four time Olympian in Tornadoes. It’s like a Hobie 16 on steroids. Charlie and Liz heard I was here so they hustled down to get some sailing tips from me. Actually he came aboard and during the walk around almost fell through the trampoline. (you could have tied those knots a little tighter, Paul!) Oh well, another excuse for cocktails.
The weather took a turn for the better so we decided this would be our chance to get over to Conception Island. With detailed planning we departed about three minutes after making the decision to go. Foolishly, two boats, Priority and Zola decided to follow us. We also brought along the lads off Sand Piper. Mark and Brendan, new college graduates, are Big Brian’s nephews who have helped their grandparents bring the boat to the Bahamas. Halfway there, the fleet decided that my preflight planning left a lot to be desired. It looked like our four hour trip would be more like eight and we’d make landfall sometime that night. I told them to quit their whining and keep on trucking. It would have helped if they didn’t stop every fifteen minutes to pull in another dorado. In the meantime, we caught a lot of sea grass. We got in just in time to catch sunset, so thankfully we didn’t miss happy hour. ( I guess my planning wasn’t that bad after all.) Priority and Zola were ready to go spearing the next day, so off we went in our trusty dinghies. The water was nice and calm but we came up with goose eggs in our first spot. The next spot was far better as we were at least pulling in some fish. Then the newlyweds off Zola jumped in and after about thirty minutes had twenty pounds of lobster. Of the five bugs they hauled in, one was the biggest lobster I’ve ever seen. It was so big, it threw off the spear and Duane had to crawl in upside down and wrestle it out of the hole and up to his boat. Not something I would recommend to the faint of heart.
The next day we did sling shots. Imagine you tie a line off the end of one halyard. Then you tie the other end of the line to end of you dinghy. One person holds onto the halyard connection while the dingy takes off perpendicular to the boat at full throttle. If done correctly, the person gets launched up to height of the spreaders and then falls into the water. Brady, unfortunately, did not do it correctly. Imagine a back flop off the ten meter board while suffering rope burns in the process. Oh well, those young un’s heal fast. From there, we did a dinghy drift up the mangrove creek. Picture three dinghies tied together plus Priority had somehow managed to rig up a beach umbrella. The kids were in the water drifting alongside when a helicopter swooped down to within fifteen feet. I don’t know who was more surprised. Only in the Bahamas.
We headed back to Long Island after that. There were some caves we needed to visit. They are right off the beach in the anchorage. Lots of bats and creepy crawlers, right up Marianne’s alley. Her reward for letting us play in the mud was burgers on the deck of the Breeze. Good food and a glorious sunset. It don’t get no better. After that we headed back to Gtown to drop the boys off to their grandparents and get ready for the first day of grouper season. It was also time to start preparing for AnnMarie’s birthday party. This year she would be celebrating it with Sam off More Cowbell, same date, same year.
Grouper season opened and I won’t tell you who got the only Nassau that day. I will give you a clue. He was the oldest diver out there. It fed eleven of us, another hugely successful fish fry on Rio Dulce. With not much to do for the next few days while waiting for the b-day bash, we broke out the wakeboards, knee boards, tubes and anything else we could drag through the anchorage. Boy, I bet our neighbors loved us. Three dinghies racing around kicking up lots of wakes. Now, the first thing the kids want when we get back is a wakeboard. Well, at least it gets their minds off of a Wii.
AnnMarie’s big day finally arrived and it was non stop action. Water balloon toss, tug of war, water relay races, and lacrosse (and Marianne mocked me for bringing the sticks.) Cakes and candles were cleared and then it was time to fire up the bonfire. Thank god there was enough rum to calm my nerves from such an exciting day.
Just as we wrapped up all the festivities, it was time to kick off the Cruiser’s Regatta. Big Brian and Sheryl were the chairmen of the Kid’s day. Nothing like trying to control fifty small cruisers and town kids. It was only topped by the fleet pass in review. Seems someone misjudged the depth of the channel for the committee boat. This wasn’t a problem for the first few cats that passed by. But when the fifty foot monohull came to a screeching stop, it looked like the Keystone Cops. The boat aground goes into full reverse, the boat behind him makes a huge swing to starboard, the boat behind him keeps coming. Man, this looked like it was going to be more fun than a late night anchor dragging. After watching the first guy do a pirouette while nearly slamming into the freighter right next to it, things got straightened out.
Our days in G-town were winding down. We were already late getting up to meet our friends, the Sutherlands, in Spanish Wells. Priority decided they would show everyone how to make coconut shell jewelry. This was not some simple sand paper and shell productions. Scott and Gail came to the beach with generator, grinder, drill, files, sanding discs, and last but not least, espresso maker. I’m sure you’re wondering why you need an espresso maker to make jewelry. This is tough work and you develop a mean thirst. So here we are in the Bahamas sipping down lattes while perfecting our arts and crafts. It sounded like a bonfire was needed to complete the day. We closed the night as the embers lost their glow.
After two more Regatta days we pulled up anchor and headed north with hope to meet 3 @ Sea who had left two weeks earlier. It was tough leaving GottaLife as we’d been tied at the hip for the last two and half months. Priority and Zola challenged us to a fishing tournament. They jumped out to quick lead with two dorados, but we came on strong pulling in a fifty inch monster and a forty inch winner. Now we’ve got enough fish to last the next few weeks. We caught 3 @ Sea the next day in Norman’s Cay. Barnacle and I took their captain out for his first spearing experience. We dove the cut at Norman’s with a good three know current running. What a way to learn how to spear. My last words to him were “don’t let go of the dinghy or we’ll all die.” Even the great white hunter couldn’t get a shot off in that current. We returned empty handed but at least we saw some really big grouper. I’m not sure that’s much of a consolation. As we were pulling up to the back of Rio Dulce, another small outboard was coming toward us. I looked at Brian and David and said I thought that looked like Mike Sutherland. We were still sixty miles from his house so the whole scene wasn’t computing. Mike pulls up alongside with three of his clan. Seems they’re on a camping trip to the Exumas and his daughter recognized our boat. We agreed to meet up the next day at Allen’s Cay. It was a great excuse to party aboard the proud Rio Dulce with drinks aboard 3 @ Sea. As Marianne likes to say, it was another fish fry to celebrate. 3 @ Sea is heading south to Chile and points west and we were heading north to Eluethera. We wished each other fair winds the next morning and off we headed for Spanish Wells.
Now we start a new phase of our time in the Bahamas. Eluethera is less traveled and much quieter than the Exumas. We’re hoping to see some of the family boats we left in Gtown as they work their way north. In the meantime, we’ll spend a few weeks hanging with our friends here in Spanish Wells before we head over to Harbour Island.
So where do I begin. Since you last left us we had just won the CYO Cross Country championship…no, that’s too far back. Let’s pick it up at Christmas. Pulled into Georgetown just in time for the holidays. Did some in harbor caroling with the elves off GottaLife. A great time was had by all, but the best Xmas was had by AnnMarie. If you don’t believe in Santa, just ask her about her owl ring.
From there we jumped into the new year, playing on the beach with the kids off GottaLife, Nina, 3 @ Sea, and More Cowbell (I’m not making up that last name, that’s really the name of their boat. They‘re from Houston which kind of explains it.) In the meantime, Brian (of GottaLife, hereafter called Big Brian, not to be confused with Barnacle Brian, the red headed whirling dervish) and I worked on getting various systems up and running on Rio Dulce. Seems we’ve been doing this for twenty years. Oh that’s right, we have. In fact Big Brian still has the tee shirts he wore when he worked on Avalon. Only this time I won’t let him anywhere near our heat exchangers. There wasn’t much we could do on the broken prop, but we changed out alternators and got the watermaker working. It’s always nice to wake up to batteries that aren’t so weak they couldn’t power a flashlight.
The second miracle of the trip (see AnnMarie’s Xmas for #1) happened one Sunday in the middle of January when another Catana showed up in the harbor. We stopped by to introduce ourselves and after a few minutes of chatting, Marianne asked if they happened to have any spare propellers. “Why as a matter of fact, we’ve got two.” Once again your favorite luck bucket hit the mother load. After a bit of wheeling and dealing, I had the new prop on the port sail drive later that day. We were back to being fully functional. Now it was time to do some exploring.
We decided we’d head off to Long Island. Instead of heading to the northern anchorages, scene of one of our more adventurous cruises with the Kornicks, we went to the center of the island. It’s not like we discovered the lost paradise as there were twenty five boats already in the harbor. But it was very cool. There’s an American couple who have built a small resort and bar, the Long Island Breeze, who couldn’t have been friendlier to cruisers. We showed up with a contingent of kids, running around, jumping into their pool, and tying up their wifi. We hadn’t had this much fun since Emerald Bay closed. GottaLife, 3 @ Sea, and we rented a couple cars to explore the entire ninety miles of the island. It’s much different than the rest of the Bahamas as you could tell people were genuinely happy to see you. The highlight of the ride was our stop at the blue hole. This hole drops down over six hundred feet and it’s about twenty feet off the beach. The hole is halfway surrounded by cliffs, so after diving down as deep as you can, then you can jump off the cliffs into it. Check us out on YouTube under “From the Pilothouse.” We finished off our Long Island experience with a Tropic of Cancer party aboard 3 @ Sea. Man, those trawler folks can party.
It was time to get back to Georgetown to hide from the third cold front of the season. Usually when we talk about cold fronts, it’s mostly about the wind. This year it’s been mostly about the cold. Marianne is wearing more fleece than she did in South Carolina. The fronts haven’t been packing the punch as previous years so we miss the all the emergency calls about anchor dragging. The boat count was growing in anticipation of the Cruisers Regatta. There were over two hundred boats in the harbor so when anchors start dragging it’s wildly entertaining to listen to the radio. Think pinball with twenty ton boats. All semblance of civility is gone in about two seconds. We were looking forward to good forty knot breeze, only to be disappointed when it barely topped thirty. Kinda takes the fun out of it when you don’t hear those anguished cries at midnight screaming about crossed anchor chains and bowsprits through the rigging.
We spent another week in Georgetown as the kids never seem to tire of it. We even got a chance to sail Nina out of the harbor. Nina is a 75 foot wood schooner built in 1920 with no depth sounder or instruments. She’s won nearly every classic boat race ever held. They were headed for Jamaica and then to Panama. I’m not ready to give up catamarans but it was very cool to be at the helm of such a beauty.
Also in the harbor was another Catana. We had heard rumors of this boat coming from Houston, so when Kaya arrived we raced over to meet her. You’d think Milano Myst would have been enough Houston for one man to take, now I’ve got More Cowbell and Kaya to contend with. Charlie, off Kaya, is a four time Olympian in Tornadoes. It’s like a Hobie 16 on steroids. Charlie and Liz heard I was here so they hustled down to get some sailing tips from me. Actually he came aboard and during the walk around almost fell through the trampoline. (you could have tied those knots a little tighter, Paul!) Oh well, another excuse for cocktails.
The weather took a turn for the better so we decided this would be our chance to get over to Conception Island. With detailed planning we departed about three minutes after making the decision to go. Foolishly, two boats, Priority and Zola decided to follow us. We also brought along the lads off Sand Piper. Mark and Brendan, new college graduates, are Big Brian’s nephews who have helped their grandparents bring the boat to the Bahamas. Halfway there, the fleet decided that my preflight planning left a lot to be desired. It looked like our four hour trip would be more like eight and we’d make landfall sometime that night. I told them to quit their whining and keep on trucking. It would have helped if they didn’t stop every fifteen minutes to pull in another dorado. In the meantime, we caught a lot of sea grass. We got in just in time to catch sunset, so thankfully we didn’t miss happy hour. ( I guess my planning wasn’t that bad after all.) Priority and Zola were ready to go spearing the next day, so off we went in our trusty dinghies. The water was nice and calm but we came up with goose eggs in our first spot. The next spot was far better as we were at least pulling in some fish. Then the newlyweds off Zola jumped in and after about thirty minutes had twenty pounds of lobster. Of the five bugs they hauled in, one was the biggest lobster I’ve ever seen. It was so big, it threw off the spear and Duane had to crawl in upside down and wrestle it out of the hole and up to his boat. Not something I would recommend to the faint of heart.
The next day we did sling shots. Imagine you tie a line off the end of one halyard. Then you tie the other end of the line to end of you dinghy. One person holds onto the halyard connection while the dingy takes off perpendicular to the boat at full throttle. If done correctly, the person gets launched up to height of the spreaders and then falls into the water. Brady, unfortunately, did not do it correctly. Imagine a back flop off the ten meter board while suffering rope burns in the process. Oh well, those young un’s heal fast. From there, we did a dinghy drift up the mangrove creek. Picture three dinghies tied together plus Priority had somehow managed to rig up a beach umbrella. The kids were in the water drifting alongside when a helicopter swooped down to within fifteen feet. I don’t know who was more surprised. Only in the Bahamas.
We headed back to Long Island after that. There were some caves we needed to visit. They are right off the beach in the anchorage. Lots of bats and creepy crawlers, right up Marianne’s alley. Her reward for letting us play in the mud was burgers on the deck of the Breeze. Good food and a glorious sunset. It don’t get no better. After that we headed back to Gtown to drop the boys off to their grandparents and get ready for the first day of grouper season. It was also time to start preparing for AnnMarie’s birthday party. This year she would be celebrating it with Sam off More Cowbell, same date, same year.
Grouper season opened and I won’t tell you who got the only Nassau that day. I will give you a clue. He was the oldest diver out there. It fed eleven of us, another hugely successful fish fry on Rio Dulce. With not much to do for the next few days while waiting for the b-day bash, we broke out the wakeboards, knee boards, tubes and anything else we could drag through the anchorage. Boy, I bet our neighbors loved us. Three dinghies racing around kicking up lots of wakes. Now, the first thing the kids want when we get back is a wakeboard. Well, at least it gets their minds off of a Wii.
AnnMarie’s big day finally arrived and it was non stop action. Water balloon toss, tug of war, water relay races, and lacrosse (and Marianne mocked me for bringing the sticks.) Cakes and candles were cleared and then it was time to fire up the bonfire. Thank god there was enough rum to calm my nerves from such an exciting day.
Just as we wrapped up all the festivities, it was time to kick off the Cruiser’s Regatta. Big Brian and Sheryl were the chairmen of the Kid’s day. Nothing like trying to control fifty small cruisers and town kids. It was only topped by the fleet pass in review. Seems someone misjudged the depth of the channel for the committee boat. This wasn’t a problem for the first few cats that passed by. But when the fifty foot monohull came to a screeching stop, it looked like the Keystone Cops. The boat aground goes into full reverse, the boat behind him makes a huge swing to starboard, the boat behind him keeps coming. Man, this looked like it was going to be more fun than a late night anchor dragging. After watching the first guy do a pirouette while nearly slamming into the freighter right next to it, things got straightened out.
Our days in G-town were winding down. We were already late getting up to meet our friends, the Sutherlands, in Spanish Wells. Priority decided they would show everyone how to make coconut shell jewelry. This was not some simple sand paper and shell productions. Scott and Gail came to the beach with generator, grinder, drill, files, sanding discs, and last but not least, espresso maker. I’m sure you’re wondering why you need an espresso maker to make jewelry. This is tough work and you develop a mean thirst. So here we are in the Bahamas sipping down lattes while perfecting our arts and crafts. It sounded like a bonfire was needed to complete the day. We closed the night as the embers lost their glow.
After two more Regatta days we pulled up anchor and headed north with hope to meet 3 @ Sea who had left two weeks earlier. It was tough leaving GottaLife as we’d been tied at the hip for the last two and half months. Priority and Zola challenged us to a fishing tournament. They jumped out to quick lead with two dorados, but we came on strong pulling in a fifty inch monster and a forty inch winner. Now we’ve got enough fish to last the next few weeks. We caught 3 @ Sea the next day in Norman’s Cay. Barnacle and I took their captain out for his first spearing experience. We dove the cut at Norman’s with a good three know current running. What a way to learn how to spear. My last words to him were “don’t let go of the dinghy or we’ll all die.” Even the great white hunter couldn’t get a shot off in that current. We returned empty handed but at least we saw some really big grouper. I’m not sure that’s much of a consolation. As we were pulling up to the back of Rio Dulce, another small outboard was coming toward us. I looked at Brian and David and said I thought that looked like Mike Sutherland. We were still sixty miles from his house so the whole scene wasn’t computing. Mike pulls up alongside with three of his clan. Seems they’re on a camping trip to the Exumas and his daughter recognized our boat. We agreed to meet up the next day at Allen’s Cay. It was a great excuse to party aboard the proud Rio Dulce with drinks aboard 3 @ Sea. As Marianne likes to say, it was another fish fry to celebrate. 3 @ Sea is heading south to Chile and points west and we were heading north to Eluethera. We wished each other fair winds the next morning and off we headed for Spanish Wells.
Now we start a new phase of our time in the Bahamas. Eluethera is less traveled and much quieter than the Exumas. We’re hoping to see some of the family boats we left in Gtown as they work their way north. In the meantime, we’ll spend a few weeks hanging with our friends here in Spanish Wells before we head over to Harbour Island.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
This is a Blog entry by Brady
Written Tuesday, January 20
Hello everyone!
Last night was Awesome! We (us, Gotta life, and Nina) went over to Three At Sea and had an super fun
Mexican dinner/ Wii Party!!! I completely failed on Wii sing, but I PWNED at Mario Kart. I also beat
Geneva at Wii sports boxing. But I think the real winner of that was AnnMarie, who kept knocking us all
out first time. Just after boxing, we had the equivlent of Wimbledon on the Wii. Brian and David were both
really good and beat everyone else there. It was a ton of fun.
I’ll type more later,
Bye peoples!
Written Tuesday, January 20
Hello everyone!
Last night was Awesome! We (us, Gotta life, and Nina) went over to Three At Sea and had an super fun
Mexican dinner/ Wii Party!!! I completely failed on Wii sing, but I PWNED at Mario Kart. I also beat
Geneva at Wii sports boxing. But I think the real winner of that was AnnMarie, who kept knocking us all
out first time. Just after boxing, we had the equivlent of Wimbledon on the Wii. Brian and David were both
really good and beat everyone else there. It was a ton of fun.
I’ll type more later,
Bye peoples!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
This is a Blog entry by Brady
Hi everyone!
Were having a great time now that, by some amazing stroke of luck, we came across another Catana 471
That just happened to have 2 SPARE PROPELLERS!!! Just what we needed after getting what we thought was electrolysis at Dataw Is. The bad news is that my dad wants to move somewhere just because he can! I really don’t want to leave g-town! There’s so many great kids this year, and, just to name a few,
There is: Chris and Josh on Liberty, Sam on More Cowbell(no joke, that’s really his boat name),
David on Nina, Ayla on Three at Sea, and a bunch more. I still don’t want to leave.
Today is the first day of our special swim aerobics/ classes/ thingys and they look kind of boring.
I would rather be tubing with Erin and Geneva like we did the other day. Now THAT was fun.
Well, my time on the computer is quickly winding down and my dad keeps telling me to get off.
Oh well, I’ll write another blog entry when I can,
Later everyone!
Hi everyone!
Were having a great time now that, by some amazing stroke of luck, we came across another Catana 471
That just happened to have 2 SPARE PROPELLERS!!! Just what we needed after getting what we thought was electrolysis at Dataw Is. The bad news is that my dad wants to move somewhere just because he can! I really don’t want to leave g-town! There’s so many great kids this year, and, just to name a few,
There is: Chris and Josh on Liberty, Sam on More Cowbell(no joke, that’s really his boat name),
David on Nina, Ayla on Three at Sea, and a bunch more. I still don’t want to leave.
Today is the first day of our special swim aerobics/ classes/ thingys and they look kind of boring.
I would rather be tubing with Erin and Geneva like we did the other day. Now THAT was fun.
Well, my time on the computer is quickly winding down and my dad keeps telling me to get off.
Oh well, I’ll write another blog entry when I can,
Later everyone!
It was a quick sail down to Shroud Cay, one of our favorite anchorages. Unfortunately for the spear fisherman, Shroud in in the Land and Sea Park, where fishing is prohibited. Funny how I didn’t care if I was in the country illegally but I didn’t want to break the rules of the park. We only spent a day playing in the mangrove canals of the island before pushing off for Warderwick Wells, headquarters to the Park. It was fun to stop in and see the caretakers and walk the paths. What a beautiful place. They’re working hard to keep the area from being decimated by local and pirate fisherman.
The next day we jumped off for a short sail to Staniel Cay. Since we had last fueled up at Ft Pierce I thought it would be good to take on fuel and water here. We weren’t sure what the status of services would be in Gtown. Diesel was a bit pricey at $2.00/gal more than the States. Water had jumped up to .40/gal but it’s good RO, no complaints there. Only thing different is they dropped their free wifi. Now it’s $10/day. Too bad as I thought that was one of the nicer services in the Bahamas. I guess everyone is trying to figure how to make a buck these days. \
As we left the dock we heard the port engine cavitating. That’s strange I thought. And after a quiet night at anchor, we left early the next morning for Gtown. As we powered up I heard the same cavitation. No problemo, just run on the starboard engine. Fortunately, it was an easy sail down in fair northeast winds. We pulled into Elizabeth Harbor around 3:00 PM and were amazed at the number of boats. I figured there may be ten to twenty but there was easily double that. The timing was good as Brian’s sister was due in two days and we could check in here.
As soon as the anchor was down I went over the side to see if I has wrapped my skivvies around the prop like I did last year. No such luck. It seems we were the victims of massive electrolysis at the marina in Dataw. The gears on one blade on the port prop was broken and just hanging like a limp noodle. Electrolysis is where stray electrical currtent gets in the water from bad wiring and turns your underwater metal into a battery. Apparently the prop was shedding metal for the past month or more. So here we are in the Out Islands with one working engine. Oh well, at least we should be able to check in and buy Kaliks.
Now it was time to forget about boat problems and start to get ready for Christmas. You’d think it would be hard to misplace a string of lights on a 47’boat but after tearing apart both vee berths I finally found em.
And if we’re going to have lights we need electricity. I guess there was no better time to start replacing alternators now that I have McGiver anchored next door. I don’t know who was more excited to tear the engine room apart, Brian or me? Marianne’s dad had given me a large Balmar alternator he couldn’t use so that was our first victim, I mean experiment. You know that Twelve Days of Christmas song where the guy is screaming about the !$%(&(^ mn wires. Well that was us. For those of you who have never changed an alternator, let me be the first to tell it aint’ not plug and play. After three days of brainstorming we finally connected the wires as best we could. Now the battery alarm only goes off randomly when the engine is running. Since we were deep into a basic rewiring of the boat I figured why not change the port engine alternator. I can’t use the engine for propulsion, but it should still make electricity. That alternator went on easier as it was a matching Volvo. I was finally able to call the tech support from Balmar. Their solution is to disconnect the alarm. Thanks for that great tidbit, guys. But what the hey, we have colored lights on the cockpit and everyone in in the festive spirit. And Christmas is only five days away.
The next day we jumped off for a short sail to Staniel Cay. Since we had last fueled up at Ft Pierce I thought it would be good to take on fuel and water here. We weren’t sure what the status of services would be in Gtown. Diesel was a bit pricey at $2.00/gal more than the States. Water had jumped up to .40/gal but it’s good RO, no complaints there. Only thing different is they dropped their free wifi. Now it’s $10/day. Too bad as I thought that was one of the nicer services in the Bahamas. I guess everyone is trying to figure how to make a buck these days. \
As we left the dock we heard the port engine cavitating. That’s strange I thought. And after a quiet night at anchor, we left early the next morning for Gtown. As we powered up I heard the same cavitation. No problemo, just run on the starboard engine. Fortunately, it was an easy sail down in fair northeast winds. We pulled into Elizabeth Harbor around 3:00 PM and were amazed at the number of boats. I figured there may be ten to twenty but there was easily double that. The timing was good as Brian’s sister was due in two days and we could check in here.
As soon as the anchor was down I went over the side to see if I has wrapped my skivvies around the prop like I did last year. No such luck. It seems we were the victims of massive electrolysis at the marina in Dataw. The gears on one blade on the port prop was broken and just hanging like a limp noodle. Electrolysis is where stray electrical currtent gets in the water from bad wiring and turns your underwater metal into a battery. Apparently the prop was shedding metal for the past month or more. So here we are in the Out Islands with one working engine. Oh well, at least we should be able to check in and buy Kaliks.
Now it was time to forget about boat problems and start to get ready for Christmas. You’d think it would be hard to misplace a string of lights on a 47’boat but after tearing apart both vee berths I finally found em.
And if we’re going to have lights we need electricity. I guess there was no better time to start replacing alternators now that I have McGiver anchored next door. I don’t know who was more excited to tear the engine room apart, Brian or me? Marianne’s dad had given me a large Balmar alternator he couldn’t use so that was our first victim, I mean experiment. You know that Twelve Days of Christmas song where the guy is screaming about the !$%(&(^ mn wires. Well that was us. For those of you who have never changed an alternator, let me be the first to tell it aint’ not plug and play. After three days of brainstorming we finally connected the wires as best we could. Now the battery alarm only goes off randomly when the engine is running. Since we were deep into a basic rewiring of the boat I figured why not change the port engine alternator. I can’t use the engine for propulsion, but it should still make electricity. That alternator went on easier as it was a matching Volvo. I was finally able to call the tech support from Balmar. Their solution is to disconnect the alarm. Thanks for that great tidbit, guys. But what the hey, we have colored lights on the cockpit and everyone in in the festive spirit. And Christmas is only five days away.
The dinghy problem was finally resolved as we decided to buy a new dinghy in Ft Pierce, Fl. That was the last thing keeping us in Dataw. So at 2:45 pm I looked at Marianne and asked if we should leave. At 3:00 pm we were pulling in lines and motoring away from the dock. Nothing like a lot of preplanning. The wind was light for the next forty hours as we motored down the coast. There was a short discussion about pulling into St Augustine as we had spent Christmas there two years ago. The command decision was made to keep going as the weather was making the trip so easy. We arrived at the Ft Pierce inlet Friday afternoon and promptly anchored. Lo and behold the anchor grabbed on the first attempt.
At first light on Saturday we scooted over to the marina and hooked up to shore power. West Marine opened at 8:00. I walked in at 8:05, bought the new RIB (rigid inflatable boat for those non sailors), and promptly put it in the water by 9:00. We were ready to leave for the Bahamas. Oh right, I had no depth sounder, wind instruments, or white caulk (can’t have enough caulk, see previous post) Fortunately the ray marine tech works on Saturday so we got the electronic problems solved, or at least the depth sounder problem. The wind instruments will have to wait til next year as I had to send that part back to Raymarine.
Our friend from Idaho, John Marsh, was visiting his folks in Vero Beach. He stopped over and we laughed that there was no snow on the mountain. Last year this day we were skiing down all the runs. After a short stay in the marina we went out to anchor again and wait for weather. It gave us a chance to spend more time with John and enjoy a dinner off the boat at his parents house. Thursday looked promising with the wind out of the right direction to head south. On the down side there was a lot of wind. It looked good to us so off we pushed that afternoon with plans to get to Ft Lauderdale the next day. At midnight we realized the winds were coming too far out of the south to keep going to Lauderdale so we ducked into Lake Worth/West Palm. Once inside the anchorage we dropped the hook. Before we started to congratulate ourselves on another successful passage, we looked at the wind again. Wind out of the SSW, gulf stream out of the south, and we want to go east. Sure looks like decent crossing weather to me. So after an hour at anchor we picked up and headed out, this time heading southeast instead of south. With this much wind the gulf stream was choppy but certainly doable. By nine the next morning we we across and headed to Great Isaac light with is due south of Freeport just on the northwest tip of the Great Bahama Banks. No reason or place to stop there so we continued on to Chubb Cay. When it became clear we were not going to get to Chubb by daylight, we decided we would continue on to Rose Island, just off Nassau. The wind kept pushing us the whole way. After a day and a half, Marianne hit the wall and turned the watch over to me. This was at 4:00 am. By 5:30 it was time to make our entrance through the cut and Marianne was still making zzzzs. I grabbed Brady to help take in the sails, make the entrance, and anchor. After the anchor was set , I listened to the weather forecast and then went to bed.
It couldn’t have been a half hour when the world exploded with all commotion on deck. I could hear one of the kids yelling “they’re here, they’re here!” I crawled up from my rack to see the crew from Gottalife on our stern. Man was I surprised. But not as much as Marianne. She was still trying to figure out how she slept through dropping the main, rolling in the jib, and dropping a hundred feet of chain. All of which create a tad bit of noise through the hulls.
Amazingly we run into the same boat here at our first anchorage we were hoping to meet in Georgetown. We had last seen them as they were anchored in Beaufort, SC. It was a short nineteen years ago that Brian and Sheryl and us had hooked up on our first boats. Gottalife was transiting with Sandpiper. Onboard Sandpiper were Brian’s parents and two nephewss. It was a bit too early for sundowners but it was nice to know we wouldn’t be celebrating our crossing alone.
Now that we made it to the Bahamas it was time to check in. Not so fast Mr Costigan. Seems someone forgot the passports in Akron. (I’m not naming names but after I forgot my passport last time I flew into the Bahamas I was told in no uncertain terms who the keeper of the passports would be.) You’d think by now we have the hang of this. So it was over to Nassau to make the call to Conlon once again to get me out of a jam. Fortunately, Brian’s sister was flying down in a week so she’d be able to bring the passports down with her. We’d only be illegal until we got to Georgetown. So after a few days of waiting for better weather we pushed off for the Exumas.
At first light on Saturday we scooted over to the marina and hooked up to shore power. West Marine opened at 8:00. I walked in at 8:05, bought the new RIB (rigid inflatable boat for those non sailors), and promptly put it in the water by 9:00. We were ready to leave for the Bahamas. Oh right, I had no depth sounder, wind instruments, or white caulk (can’t have enough caulk, see previous post) Fortunately the ray marine tech works on Saturday so we got the electronic problems solved, or at least the depth sounder problem. The wind instruments will have to wait til next year as I had to send that part back to Raymarine.
Our friend from Idaho, John Marsh, was visiting his folks in Vero Beach. He stopped over and we laughed that there was no snow on the mountain. Last year this day we were skiing down all the runs. After a short stay in the marina we went out to anchor again and wait for weather. It gave us a chance to spend more time with John and enjoy a dinner off the boat at his parents house. Thursday looked promising with the wind out of the right direction to head south. On the down side there was a lot of wind. It looked good to us so off we pushed that afternoon with plans to get to Ft Lauderdale the next day. At midnight we realized the winds were coming too far out of the south to keep going to Lauderdale so we ducked into Lake Worth/West Palm. Once inside the anchorage we dropped the hook. Before we started to congratulate ourselves on another successful passage, we looked at the wind again. Wind out of the SSW, gulf stream out of the south, and we want to go east. Sure looks like decent crossing weather to me. So after an hour at anchor we picked up and headed out, this time heading southeast instead of south. With this much wind the gulf stream was choppy but certainly doable. By nine the next morning we we across and headed to Great Isaac light with is due south of Freeport just on the northwest tip of the Great Bahama Banks. No reason or place to stop there so we continued on to Chubb Cay. When it became clear we were not going to get to Chubb by daylight, we decided we would continue on to Rose Island, just off Nassau. The wind kept pushing us the whole way. After a day and a half, Marianne hit the wall and turned the watch over to me. This was at 4:00 am. By 5:30 it was time to make our entrance through the cut and Marianne was still making zzzzs. I grabbed Brady to help take in the sails, make the entrance, and anchor. After the anchor was set , I listened to the weather forecast and then went to bed.
It couldn’t have been a half hour when the world exploded with all commotion on deck. I could hear one of the kids yelling “they’re here, they’re here!” I crawled up from my rack to see the crew from Gottalife on our stern. Man was I surprised. But not as much as Marianne. She was still trying to figure out how she slept through dropping the main, rolling in the jib, and dropping a hundred feet of chain. All of which create a tad bit of noise through the hulls.
Amazingly we run into the same boat here at our first anchorage we were hoping to meet in Georgetown. We had last seen them as they were anchored in Beaufort, SC. It was a short nineteen years ago that Brian and Sheryl and us had hooked up on our first boats. Gottalife was transiting with Sandpiper. Onboard Sandpiper were Brian’s parents and two nephewss. It was a bit too early for sundowners but it was nice to know we wouldn’t be celebrating our crossing alone.
Now that we made it to the Bahamas it was time to check in. Not so fast Mr Costigan. Seems someone forgot the passports in Akron. (I’m not naming names but after I forgot my passport last time I flew into the Bahamas I was told in no uncertain terms who the keeper of the passports would be.) You’d think by now we have the hang of this. So it was over to Nassau to make the call to Conlon once again to get me out of a jam. Fortunately, Brian’s sister was flying down in a week so she’d be able to bring the passports down with her. We’d only be illegal until we got to Georgetown. So after a few days of waiting for better weather we pushed off for the Exumas.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The Breakdown of Rio Dulce
I know many of you are wondering why we’re still in South Carolina. No, it’s not because we’ve fallen in love with the area. That was Idaho, not Dataw Island. We’re here because each day brings a new surprise in the what I call “The Breakdown of Rio Dulce.”
It all started so well as we arrived and got right down to provisioning. After a few days we were loaded for bear, ready to cut the ties to the American economy for a good six months. I was putting things away and tidying things up as there was nothing to do. I had left the boat in such great shape last May, so I thought. I even splurged and had the marina crew compound and wax the hulls to give them that showroom shine. Things were looking up. Then it rained and we realized several of the windows were leaking. Nothing a little caulk wouldn’t fix. Let me warn you now, black caulk on white fiberglass isn’t a pretty sight. I was afraid to look into the mirror to see where the caulk ended up. Finally got one window leak stopped, then another popped up. Hit that one, then another one started dripping. I’ve been running to the hardware store everyday to buy more caulk. I feel like I’m Christopher Walken on Saturday Night Live screaming “more cowbell, give me more cowbell.. I mean caulk, more caulk!”
I had brought the parts to fix the anemometer at the top of the mast. You should all know how much I like going up the mast. When I got up there I realized the wind instrument was jammed on. Nothing a very large wrench couldn’t unbudge. I knew something was wrong when I saw the entire thing start spinning. Oh well, fortunately they’re readily available for a small price. Just think Best Buy pricing times three.
We had decided that we would splurge and buy a new dinghy engine. The Mercury POS (piece of …) had been a problem since day one, so we planned to pick up a Yamaha. The only thing that had provided more headaches than the Mercury have been our batteries, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Buying the Yamaha was easy, it only takes money.
Now with new engine we prepared to mount it on our trusty dinghy. Something looked a little wrong as the piece that holds the inflatable tubes to the fiberglass hull had pulled apart. That didn’t look good. No problem, nothing a little glue couldn’t fix. Hmmm, seems the other side was coming apart also. No problem, just more glue. I quickly realized this was a job for a professional. Yes, there are companies that do nothing but repair dinghies and life rafts. I drove the tubes up to Charleston for a quick repair. One look at the tubes and the guy says they were shot. The good news is the new tubes are in stock, the bad news they’re in stock in France. The French say ‘no problem monsieur, we can ship in three weeks’ (I can just see the cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.) My experience with the French tells me the tubes should arrive sometime next summer. It’s off to look for a dinghy replacement. After realizing there are no used dinghies on the East Coast, I decide to buy a new one that can take us through the season. Next summer I’ll order the tubes from France and then I’ll have two like new dinghies. Thinking the new one may get here before Thanksgiving, I start making plans to leave the day after. What an optimistic fool I am.
I’m told the dinghy won’t arrive til the following Monday. Again, no worries mate, just gives me more time to go down the to do list. I figure it’s time to change the engine fuel filters. Three years per set of filters is ok isn’t it? During the process of changing the filter I decide I’ll bleed the engine. The bleed nut takes a lot of pressure to loosen. Time to break out the big wrench. What’s the saying? Lefty tighty, right loosey? It’s amazing how quickly you can torque the thread off an aluminum housing. Good news its in stock, bad news Vovlo isn’t feeling very generous these days. Really bad news, I never needed to bleed the !$^%$#%^*! engine in the first place.
It’s now time to attack the non functioning depth sounder. I work my way back from the transducer through all the connections to the main computer. As I look at the display, I notice a large number of functions missing from the screen. Shades of lightning strike cross my mind. A quick call to Raymarine confirms what I’ve got can’t be fixed on the boat. Oh well, I’ve already ordered a new anemometer, why stop there? Yes Mr Raymarine, I’ll send you my data computer for you to replace.
Since we’re waiting for the dinghy, I figure I’ll check to see how the batteries are doing. I unplug from shore power and watch my nine batteries drop to nothing. I hook up the shore power and it appears they aren’t charging. Six years of dorking around with this system. The batteries onboard now are only two years old. I decide to separate all the batteries and load test them. The load test shows they’re all good. Now I’m more confused than ever. Which isn’t saying much. Sometime during this cruise I’ll install the big alternator I’ve been carrying around to see if that makes the batteries any happier.
Still waiting on the dinghy gives me time to clean the bottom. Trust me, a shorty wet suit doesn’t work too well in South Carolina on Nov 27th. The marina folks were entertained watching me surface and singing soprano. I have never seen such marine growth in my life. I’m not exaggerating when I say there was a foot of plant life hanging off the bottom. It’s a good thing I got that speed brake off the boat.
The big day finally arrives as the truck brings the dinghy. Wow, it sure look big. There’s another saying I should remember. Measure twice, cut once. In this case it’s measure twice, order once. Seems the dinghy is over a foot longer than our old one and won’t fit on the davits. At this point Marianne is starting to look for flights home. Fortunately, the dinghy is an inflatable. I figure it’s like a balloon and I’ll make it fit.
During all this time we have been having our mainsail cover, bimini window, and cockpit cushions redone. This is one project that doesn’t catch us by surprise. I contracted this job to be done in the summer. And like every good contractor, what’s one month late between friends. So as various things are breaking about, our canvas man shows up at all hours with a cushion here and a window there. Fortunately, our to do list has dragged out so his delays are a non event.
Well the boat looks a lot better even if she does sit lower in the water. With any luck, we’ll be leaving in a few days. From here we plan to sail directly to Fort Pierce, FL. We’ve already had all the shipments sent there. They must be wondering who we are with all this boat gear showing up and no boat.
Did I mention it’s been unseasonable cold? The locals are telling us it’s more like February weather. That gives us more incentive to shove off. Rumor has it, it’s in the high 70’s down there. Dataw Island is a bit of southern heaven, but it’s time to go. We’ll fill you in when we get to Florida.
It all started so well as we arrived and got right down to provisioning. After a few days we were loaded for bear, ready to cut the ties to the American economy for a good six months. I was putting things away and tidying things up as there was nothing to do. I had left the boat in such great shape last May, so I thought. I even splurged and had the marina crew compound and wax the hulls to give them that showroom shine. Things were looking up. Then it rained and we realized several of the windows were leaking. Nothing a little caulk wouldn’t fix. Let me warn you now, black caulk on white fiberglass isn’t a pretty sight. I was afraid to look into the mirror to see where the caulk ended up. Finally got one window leak stopped, then another popped up. Hit that one, then another one started dripping. I’ve been running to the hardware store everyday to buy more caulk. I feel like I’m Christopher Walken on Saturday Night Live screaming “more cowbell, give me more cowbell.. I mean caulk, more caulk!”
I had brought the parts to fix the anemometer at the top of the mast. You should all know how much I like going up the mast. When I got up there I realized the wind instrument was jammed on. Nothing a very large wrench couldn’t unbudge. I knew something was wrong when I saw the entire thing start spinning. Oh well, fortunately they’re readily available for a small price. Just think Best Buy pricing times three.
We had decided that we would splurge and buy a new dinghy engine. The Mercury POS (piece of …) had been a problem since day one, so we planned to pick up a Yamaha. The only thing that had provided more headaches than the Mercury have been our batteries, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Buying the Yamaha was easy, it only takes money.
Now with new engine we prepared to mount it on our trusty dinghy. Something looked a little wrong as the piece that holds the inflatable tubes to the fiberglass hull had pulled apart. That didn’t look good. No problem, nothing a little glue couldn’t fix. Hmmm, seems the other side was coming apart also. No problem, just more glue. I quickly realized this was a job for a professional. Yes, there are companies that do nothing but repair dinghies and life rafts. I drove the tubes up to Charleston for a quick repair. One look at the tubes and the guy says they were shot. The good news is the new tubes are in stock, the bad news they’re in stock in France. The French say ‘no problem monsieur, we can ship in three weeks’ (I can just see the cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.) My experience with the French tells me the tubes should arrive sometime next summer. It’s off to look for a dinghy replacement. After realizing there are no used dinghies on the East Coast, I decide to buy a new one that can take us through the season. Next summer I’ll order the tubes from France and then I’ll have two like new dinghies. Thinking the new one may get here before Thanksgiving, I start making plans to leave the day after. What an optimistic fool I am.
I’m told the dinghy won’t arrive til the following Monday. Again, no worries mate, just gives me more time to go down the to do list. I figure it’s time to change the engine fuel filters. Three years per set of filters is ok isn’t it? During the process of changing the filter I decide I’ll bleed the engine. The bleed nut takes a lot of pressure to loosen. Time to break out the big wrench. What’s the saying? Lefty tighty, right loosey? It’s amazing how quickly you can torque the thread off an aluminum housing. Good news its in stock, bad news Vovlo isn’t feeling very generous these days. Really bad news, I never needed to bleed the !$^%$#%^*! engine in the first place.
It’s now time to attack the non functioning depth sounder. I work my way back from the transducer through all the connections to the main computer. As I look at the display, I notice a large number of functions missing from the screen. Shades of lightning strike cross my mind. A quick call to Raymarine confirms what I’ve got can’t be fixed on the boat. Oh well, I’ve already ordered a new anemometer, why stop there? Yes Mr Raymarine, I’ll send you my data computer for you to replace.
Since we’re waiting for the dinghy, I figure I’ll check to see how the batteries are doing. I unplug from shore power and watch my nine batteries drop to nothing. I hook up the shore power and it appears they aren’t charging. Six years of dorking around with this system. The batteries onboard now are only two years old. I decide to separate all the batteries and load test them. The load test shows they’re all good. Now I’m more confused than ever. Which isn’t saying much. Sometime during this cruise I’ll install the big alternator I’ve been carrying around to see if that makes the batteries any happier.
Still waiting on the dinghy gives me time to clean the bottom. Trust me, a shorty wet suit doesn’t work too well in South Carolina on Nov 27th. The marina folks were entertained watching me surface and singing soprano. I have never seen such marine growth in my life. I’m not exaggerating when I say there was a foot of plant life hanging off the bottom. It’s a good thing I got that speed brake off the boat.
The big day finally arrives as the truck brings the dinghy. Wow, it sure look big. There’s another saying I should remember. Measure twice, cut once. In this case it’s measure twice, order once. Seems the dinghy is over a foot longer than our old one and won’t fit on the davits. At this point Marianne is starting to look for flights home. Fortunately, the dinghy is an inflatable. I figure it’s like a balloon and I’ll make it fit.
During all this time we have been having our mainsail cover, bimini window, and cockpit cushions redone. This is one project that doesn’t catch us by surprise. I contracted this job to be done in the summer. And like every good contractor, what’s one month late between friends. So as various things are breaking about, our canvas man shows up at all hours with a cushion here and a window there. Fortunately, our to do list has dragged out so his delays are a non event.
Well the boat looks a lot better even if she does sit lower in the water. With any luck, we’ll be leaving in a few days. From here we plan to sail directly to Fort Pierce, FL. We’ve already had all the shipments sent there. They must be wondering who we are with all this boat gear showing up and no boat.
Did I mention it’s been unseasonable cold? The locals are telling us it’s more like February weather. That gives us more incentive to shove off. Rumor has it, it’s in the high 70’s down there. Dataw Island is a bit of southern heaven, but it’s time to go. We’ll fill you in when we get to Florida.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Well, finally. We're back on the water with our faithful ship. Preparing for our voyage down the east coast, making huge Wal-mart and Sams club shopping runs every day, running around in circles, yes, it seems like the start of another great year aboard the Rio Dulce. As we're pulling stuff out from under the beds that we don't remember buying, we find empty duffel bags that we were looking for 2 years ago. Jeez. I really didn't know we had this much junk on this boat. I didn't even know this much junk could fit onto this boat. Oh well, there goes that rain jacket from the first voyage. just another brick in the wall, or, just another coat in the trash. At least we've got a great marina to stay for the time being. The only down side is that here in the palmetto state there are plenty of palmetto bugs. Brian can't stand it. AnnMaries hair is getting longer by the minute, and Brady is catching geckos all over the place. Can't wait to get back to the good ol' Atlantic again. once again, we have no plans for visitors. so if you want to get away for a little, just call the Rio Crew.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
It's time to get ready to pack. You'd think after six years we'd have this down to a science. At least we don't have to try to check 15 Rubbermaid containers at the Airtran counter. With any luck we'll be in South Carolina by Nov 11th and the boat will still be floating. I've gone through the to do list from last year and their are still a few items to check off. Biggest on the list is replacing the Mercury outboard. My thriftiness tells me to just rebuild the carburetor and milk it for another year. Logic tells me I will be left stranded three miles offshore after trying that stupid fix. I can see a new Yamaha in our future.
Our travel plans have us going down the east coast with stops in St Augustine and Ft Pierce. Hopefully, we'll be able to get over to visit the crew of Kal Ikal in Orlando. Then its off to da Bahmamas mon. We plan to meet another cruising family, Gotta Life, in Georgetown for Xmas. This will be the first time we've spent a Christmas in that sailing mecca. After the new year, we plan to head up the Exumas and over to Spanish Wells to hook up with the Sutherlands. Mike and Becky and their five have a house on Spanish Wells that serves as a gathering spot for sailors all over the world. After that it's anyones guess where the winds will blow us.
Our calendar is wide open. As you should know we love visitors. So if your travel plans call for leaving the cold of winter, think Rio Dulce.
Our travel plans have us going down the east coast with stops in St Augustine and Ft Pierce. Hopefully, we'll be able to get over to visit the crew of Kal Ikal in Orlando. Then its off to da Bahmamas mon. We plan to meet another cruising family, Gotta Life, in Georgetown for Xmas. This will be the first time we've spent a Christmas in that sailing mecca. After the new year, we plan to head up the Exumas and over to Spanish Wells to hook up with the Sutherlands. Mike and Becky and their five have a house on Spanish Wells that serves as a gathering spot for sailors all over the world. After that it's anyones guess where the winds will blow us.
Our calendar is wide open. As you should know we love visitors. So if your travel plans call for leaving the cold of winter, think Rio Dulce.
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