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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
It\u2019s an awkward thing, this failing to learn from experience.<\/p>\n
But it does give me something to write about.<\/p>\n
Or it would if the consequences did not risk offending readers of a delicate disposition.<\/p>\n
I forgot that you mustn\u2019t put kitchen roll down the loo on a boat.<\/p>\n
So, now the head is blocked and we are still 200 miles from Santa Marta. Moreover, this part of the Caribbean is notoriously rough (something to do with the trade winds pushing the water round the top of South America). Anyway, the boat is rolling through 60\u00b0 every two seconds and the prospect of contorting myself in the back of the plumbing to clear the joker valve doesn’t bear thinking about.<\/p>\n
So, I have made other arrangements \u2013 and no, you\u2019re quite safe, I\u2019m not going to describe them here.<\/p>\n
But this has meant that I thought: \u201cNow, if this was a long trip, it would make good copy for a \u201cVoyage\u201d book (if you don\u2019t know about the voyage books, I\u2019ll put a link to the latest at the end.)<\/p>\n
Then, I thought: \u201cWhy does it have to be a book? It could be a blog post.\u201d<\/p>\n
Because, yes, this trip from Aruba to Colombia is a bit of a voyage.<\/p>\n
It doesn\u2019t need to be. Johannes and Ana on the next boat in the anchorage off Surfside Beach had planned to do it in less than 48 hours. Why didn\u2019t I sail in company? It would be good to have a buddy boat\u2026 especially for this passage.<\/p>\n
Ah yes, the passage around Punta Gallinas is famous in sailing circles \u2013 or at least in the circles which pay attention. Had I not read what Jimmy Cornell said?<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to stay well offshore. The effect of the mountains deflecting the wind means you have to multiply the forecast by three times. That means a forecast of 15kts is\u00a0going to create winds of 45ks \u2013 a full gale!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Also, you need to stay well away from the coast of Venezuela to keep clear of the pirates. It used to be Colombian drug gangs who didn\u2019t like witnesses that were the problem but now, with the collapse of the Venezuelan economy, the fisherman have turned to holding up boats and stripping them of valuables.<\/p>\n Johannes said that if we left on Saturday we would have a forecast of 5kts round the Cape (which would mean 15kts) and if we stuck to the 2000 metre line, that would keep us out of the way of the worst of the swell as well as the pirates. \u00a0Anyway, he was planning to turn off his AIS and just carry a forward-facing steaming light at night.<\/p>\n A lot of cruising boats \u201cbuddy up\u201d. There\u2019s the safety factor, obviously \u2013 and the social aspect of a schedule for radio checks.<\/p>\n But it\u2019s not something I\u2019ve ever done. Indeed, back aboard Samsara with a loose arrangement to leave in company after breakfast on Saturday, I began to feeling anxious.<\/p>\n Honestly, there was nothing to feel anxious about: This was a perfectly charming couple who had graciously invited me to sail with them round a particularly challenging part of the coast. I should accept, and be glad to do so.<\/p>\n So why was I getting in a state about it.<\/p>\n I had never experienced anything quite like it before. I found myself climbing out into the cockpit and then turning round and coming back, suddenly getting up and sitting down again, performing that trademark gesture which other people call \u201crunning your fingers through your hair\u201d \u2013 something I gave up doing a long time ago.<\/p>\n I swore I was having palpitations. I was certainly sweating – but with the air temperature of 35\u00b0C and humidity at 68%, that\u2019s no surprise. All the same, anybody might think I was having a panic attack.<\/p>\n I looked up panic attacks: \u201cMost people experience panic attacks once or twice during their lifetimes\u201d.<\/p>\n On the Friday, Johannes came round to make the final arrangements and to invite me ashore for a kebab. I\u2019m afraid I was full of excuses. I didn\u2019t think there would be enough wind on Saturday \u2013 the 2000 metre line was only 50 miles off the Cape. I always leave 100 miles just to be sure. I had a few last minute things to do\u2026<\/p>\n It sounded lame \u2013 like the flurry of embarrassment and excuses when the owner of the large catamaran in Falmouth asked me to take his son to Jersey because he felt the lad needed some experience of small boats.<\/p>\n The fact is, as I told Johannes: \u201cI just like being on my own. I\u2019m used to it. I get all flustered if I have to think about other people. It\u2019s odd, I know but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Johannes understood completely. He had been a singlehander before Ana and recalled a couple of embarrassing incidents himself when it came to\u00a0other people<\/em>.<\/p>\n And so, it wasn\u2019t until the Sunday morning that I spent two hours readying the boat for sea \u2013 stowing the table, screwing down the cabin sole, securing the lockers against a capsize \u2013 and, at the same time, rigging the Super Zero because the windy app showed plenty of blue for \u201clight winds\u201d.<\/p>\n Waypoint One was 100 miles off the Cape \u2013 and also, coincidentally, 100 miles from Aruba. For the first time with Samsara, I sailed with the AIS switched off \u2013 one concession to the Venezuelan pirates. It did feel a bit peculiar at first, seeing the screen with just me on it, but then I thought back to the old days when we didn\u2019t have identification beacons \u2013 when we set off and got lost for a bit until we found ourselves surprisingly close to our destination and the next thing anyone would hear from us would be that we\u2019d arrived.<\/p>\n The feeling of isolation was the thing I liked best about it. If you\u2019ve read Old Man Sailing, you\u2019ll know my views on Health & Safety as it relates to Old People. If I\u2019m overdue my family are under strict instructions not to raise the alarm \u2013 either I\u2019ll turn up or I won\u2019t.<\/p>\n But now I\u2019ve got Starlink because I got fed up with SIM cards not working and the WhatsApp calls from waterfront bars being drowned out by full-volume reggae. However, clearly there\u2019s more I need to know about it because when I tried to connect to find out whether the lightning I could see on the horizon was forecast to get in my way, the screen informed that my service was \u201crestricted\u201d.<\/p>\n This might be because I don\u2019t really understand it yet and have confused \u201croaming\u201d with \u201cpriority\u201d. However, I suspect it might also have something to do with some of the rude things I\u2019ve written about Elon Musk.<\/p>\n So, it turns out that this is a proper voyage after all \u2013 albeit one in miniature.<\/p>\n For a hundred miles until Waypoint One \u2013 and for another hundred to Waypoint Two \u2013 and so on as I skirted the Cape at a respectful distance, the boat rolled and swooped on her way and I eased back into the rhythm of the sea.<\/p>\n I am aware of having spent an entire afternoon just sitting in the cockpit watching the waves. I read two books in quick succession, stopped worrying about the news I was missing because, since the American election result, I have been avoiding all sources of news anyway.<\/p>\n Instead I have just some downloads from the Desert Island Discs archive. I think that if ever I\u2019m invited (and I keep my list of eight records up to date just in case) I will take as my one luxury, the Desert Island Discs archive \u2013 or would that be considered just too sycophantic?<\/p>\n I have a passenger. I thought I saw a tail disappearing under the galley a couple of days ago. I even went as far as emptying out all the saucepans and taking up the floor but there was no evidence. Believe me, the last thing you want on a boat is an unwanted guest.<\/p>\n People talk a lot about cockroaches and the need to avoid bringing cardboard packaging onto the boat \u2013 you can see people unpacking all their supplies on the dock. But I\u2019m sure this is a mouse.<\/p>\n To begin with I was worried it might be a rat \u2013 the rats in New York grow as big as cats. But now I\u2019ve met him face to face and christened him Arnold. I call all my pets Arnold. It saves confusion.<\/p>\n Arnold appeared again tonight. It was three in the morning and I had just passed Waypoint Three and changed course for a point just ten miles from Santa Marta with an ETA of breakfast time tomorrow.<\/p>\n I was sitting on what is ostensibly the leeward berth (although, with the wind behind and the boat rolling, it doesn\u2019t make much difference) when I caught a movement on the mast support where the clarinet is stowed. At first, I thought it was a moth because it seemed to flit to the bookcase. But then, there it was again. This time I got up and went to investigate and there \u2013 as large as life and right under my nose, clinging to the ligature was the bold-as-brass rodent staring straight back at me with an expression that seemed to say: \u201cOh yeah, so you\u2019ve found me. Bully for you. What are you going to do about it?\u201d<\/p>\n It was a good question \u2013 particularly since, before I had any chance of answering, the visitor was down the mast support faster than the eye could follow, hopped into the head and disappeared under the plumbing. I know how inaccessible that is because that\u2019s where I\u2019m going to have to go sometime soon to clear the joker valve.<\/p>\n Of course, I know what you\u2019re going to say: Why didn\u2019t I grab him while I had the chance?<\/p>\n Well, my first thought was that, despite Arnold being a pet and all that, mice can carry rabies can\u2019t they? The one thing I know about rabies is that the only way to confirm a case of rabies is from the symptoms when it\u2019s too late or by a post-mortem, (when it\u2019s definitely too late). This means that if you go to a doctor with even a suspicion you might have been bitten by a rabid creature, they wheel you off straight away for a full course of very unpleasant injections with very long needles into the stomach.<\/p>\n So, I think it would be better if I don\u2019t try and handle him until we\u2019re better acquainted. Consequently, I have my very large and lightweight check shorts from Grenada to hand (they\u2019ve been to hand the whole way, since I haven\u2019t worn a stitch since leaving Aruba). The plan is to throw these over him and, before he knows what\u2019s going on, bundle him into the big saucepan; which now sits ready on the stove \u2013 the lid close by so that the whole operation can be carried out in the blink of an eye.<\/p>\n Quite what I\u2019m going to do with him then rather depends on when I catch him: If this was day three of a voyage to the other side of the world, obviously I would have to construct a suitable home for him (two plastic storage baskets came to mind, until I thought about how quickly he could chew his way out.)<\/p>\n The tales of mice chewing their way through boats are enough to put you off keeping one entirely. Apparently, they love electric cables (what about my brand new lithium batteries?) If they get their teeth into a seawater inlet hose, they can sink the boat.<\/p>\n For a moment there, I considered that Santa Marta is quite a big town. I\u2019m sure they sell rat poison. But that idea soon went the way of a one-way trip to Davy Jones\u2019s locker. Instead I\u2019ve got this idea of releasing him into the wild \u2013 of taking him ashore in the big saucepan and releasing him into a pile of junk in the corner of the boatyard like Audrey Hepburn turning \u201cCat\u201d out of the taxi in Breakfast at Tiffany\u2019s.<\/p>\n In the meantime I keep thinking I see movement in the corner of my eye and reaching for the big shorts.<\/p>\n Here\u2019s a law of nature: The bigger the project, the more something is likely to go wrong.<\/p>\n I had been a bit surprised that when I ran the engine to power the watermaker, it didn\u2019t also boost the batteries \u2013 after all, the watermaker only draws 16amps \u2013 the alternator produces 70 or 80. Where was all that going? The starter battery voltage was up at 14V, the DC\/DC charger should have been putting the excess into the lithium bank \u2013 I\u2019m sure that\u2019s what it did when we tested it in the marina.<\/p>\n Now \u2013 nothing.<\/p>\n Of course this isn\u2019t really a problem \u2013 with only 70 miles to go, I should be in by tomorrow and although the wind has fallen light and the sky is slightly cloudy, the percentage charge has never dropped by more than 5% a day. I still have 48% and even if that did fall to zero, it would be no worse than your mobile phone going flat.<\/p>\n But a bit concerning all the same \u2013 especially since I can\u2019t find the DC\/DC charger. I remember seeing it \u2013 but that was before Rob installed it and, although he was most meticulous in keeping me up to speed with where he was putting everything, I\u2019m afraid a lot of it went over my head. The only place I haven\u2019t looked is in the locker under the liferaft and although I could get it out at sea, it\u2019s a whole lot easier in the marina and, anyway, I\u2019d need to have Rob on WhatsApp at the same time to tell me which warning light means what and I can\u2019t do that with no Starlink.<\/p>\n It’ll just have to go on the list \u2013 underneath clearing the joker valve and \u2013 since yesterday \u2013 unwrapping the topping lift from where it\u2019s got itself hooked around the radar reflector.<\/p>\n Meanwhile, I\u2019m slipping along at two knots with the super zero and, with 60 miles to go, the plotter hasn\u2019t even thought about an ETA, so I have plenty of time and have looking at the Grand Plan \u2013 which would have been more fruitful if I had a better knowledge of geography. I thought Guatemala was south of Honduras. Now it turns out to be north.<\/p>\n This is awkward because HMG (that\u2019s His Majesty\u2019s Government) has suddenly decided that citizens of Honduras must have a visa to enter the UK. Quite reasonably, the government of Honduras has reciprocated \u2013 and the only places I can get a Honduran visa are London or, apparently, the two neighbouring countries of Nicaragua (to the south) and Guatemala (north). I have been warned off Nicaragua as being distinctly dodgy and getting to Guatemala\u2019s Rio Dulce and then taking a bus 200 miles to Guatemala City seems a bit of a trek \u2013 particularly since I would then have to sail back the way I\u2019d come to get to where I was going in the first place: that jewel of the Honduran coast, the Bay Islands.<\/p>\n And if I\u2019m not going there, then is Mexico a practical proposition?<\/p>\n Besides, who wants to go to Mexico now I\u2019ve opened The Panama Cruising guide which was waiting for me in the giant Amazon parcel on arrival in Aruba. This 500-page full-colour doorstop is the Panama cruiser\u2019s bible. The author, Eric Bauhaus has devoted his life to his subject (including no fewer than 50 transits of the Panama Canal) and it is quite clear that I could spend my whole three-month visa in the country and still not scratch the surface.<\/p>\n Come to that, I could spend three months in the San Blas Islands.<\/p>\n This enormous archipelago of the most delightful tropical anchorages and exquisite coral reefs is effectively a country in its own right \u2013 although the Guna people who live there don\u2019t have much truck with such modern notions as borders or immigration forms \u2013 although visitors at each island are expected to introduce themselves to the local chief and behave with the utmost decorum.<\/p>\n For more than five hundred years, the Guna have preserved their culture and traditions in the face of progress. For instance, instead of TV and the Internet, the whole village gathers every evening to hear the wisdom of the elders \u2013 with selected members of the audience delegated to shriek if it gets too boring.<\/p>\n What did I say about all pets being called Arnold? Of course, there are exceptions \u2013 all swallows are called \u201cSammy\u201d.<\/p>\n Sammy the swallow arrived for the last leg and has been flitting about the boat all day, first on the guardrails and graduating eventually to the companionway where I had to nudge him out of the way every time I wanted to get in or out. He ended up sitting on my shoulder like a pirate\u2019s parrot. Should I call him Captain Flint instead?<\/p>\n Here\u2019s something I never wondered before: It used to be said that everybody had a dream about meeting the Queen \u2013 and, of course, it would be in the most bizarre circumstances. Do they now have dreams of meeting the King?<\/p>\n Anyway, tonight it was the Queen \u2013 which is why I am sitting here at midnight with a cup of tea brewing and the laptop fired up because, as anyone familiar with the voyage books will know, one of the unexpected benefits of long distance singlehanded voyaging is the most wonderful and vivid dreams.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t recognise the Queen at first \u2013 not since she was made of glass \u2013 and so when I bumped into her (quite literally, was pushed into her in the crowd outside the Savoy) there could be no doubt because she was wearing a small golden crown. It was most noticeable against the wine-red glass of her face and her vivid blue glass dress.<\/p>\n She was just straightening up as if someone had punched her in the stomach (unlikely if she was made of glass) and although she looked at me, her face was expressionless and, I am horrified to say that I didn\u2019t react either.<\/p>\n However, I was immediately buttonholed by a typically pompous palace aide who informed me (in tones which suggested there must be some mistake) that I had been appointed as advisor to Her Majesty.<\/p>\n I must have said I would think about it or some such because, practically choking on his indignation, he blustered something about it being a mystery why I had been offered the post in the first place. I rather enjoyed replying: \u201cAh, well now, it doesn\u2019t really matter what you think, does it? Because I haven\u2019t been appointed by you, have I? It\u2019s rather more a matter of what Her Majesty thinks of me.\u201d<\/p>\n All the same, I made a mental to bone up on who was who in the Palace hierarchy.<\/p>\n Buckingham Palace turned out to be a maze \u2013 not figuratively, but literally a maze: All the doors and walls were painted the same deep magenta and you could walk into any room and find yourself in a completely different (and unexpected) situation.<\/p>\n Mind you, that still didn\u2019t explain how I was woken in the middle of the night by someone poking me in the ribs \u2013 and there was Her Majesty kneeling on the bed (in the flesh this time, and a very pretty young woman she was in her voluminous white nightgown leaning over the snoring Duke of Edinburgh and hissing: \u201cI hope you realise that\u2019s the King you\u2019re lying next to!\u201d<\/p>\n This time I was truly flustered. Babbling apologies, I shot out of bed \u2013 and then had to apologise all over again because I had called her \u201cYour Majesty\u201d which you\u2019re not supposed to do after the first meeting. After that, it\u2019s \u201cMa\u2019am\u201d.<\/p>\n I found my way back to my own room, telling myself that this was something I must never divulge to a living soul. It would be the ultimate brownie point. One thing I knew the Queen valued above all else was discretion, and if this got out, she would know about it in a flash.<\/p>\n Equally, if she did\u00a0not<\/em>\u00a0get to hear about it, she would know I could be trusted \u2013 and that would protect me from any number of pompous flunkies.<\/p>\n It was just such an aide who looked down his nose at me later that morning and said: \u201cAh yes, Mr Passmore \u2013 an interesting CV\u2026 and I believe you have a quote-unquote \u2018blog\u2019. I shall have to read it.\u201d<\/p>\n I had no doubt that the Queen had already read it \u2013 the question was, whether she had also read my one novel\u00a0Trident<\/em>, written in the 1980s but set 20 years into what was then the future, and featuring a monarch who the reader would assume was to be the then Prince Charles (with his young Queen \u2013 obviously Princess Diana). I was certain she would have read it, along with everything else.<\/p>\n I know this because at about that time, I really did cover a Royal Tour to Hungary. On the evening set aside on these occasions for the Royals to meet the press (effectively the foreign press \u2013 they are only too familiar with the British Rat Pack), I found myself suddenly presented to Her Majesty. Casting around for something to say, I seized on the little-known fact (little-known to me, at least) that the streets of Budapest had doubled for 1930\u2019s Paris in the Maigret television series. I knew this because it was in the briefing notes prepared by the Palace Press Office.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d said the Queen. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n Twenty miles short of Santa Marta the wind fell away and then settled as the gentlest headwind and I spent the rest of the time alternately motoring, castigating myself for motoring, attempting to sail but making hardly any progress, and then switching the engine on again.<\/p>\n As a deliberate distraction, I poked away at all the little green plus signs on the Navionics chart. These are comments left by users. Sometimes it\u2019s just a depth sounding or a \u201cgood holding\u201d comment but one of them turned out to be a veritable treasure trove. There must have been twenty or thirty extended reviews of the Santa Marta Marina and virtually all of them were wildly enthusiastic (if you ignore the coal dust from the commercial port or the williwaws blasting 35kt winds through the berths between November and April).<\/p>\n However, all of these people were visiting to explore the interior or leave their boats while they flew home. There was only one report of boatyard work, which was said to be ridiculously overpriced. The reviewer suggested people should push on to Cartagena.<\/p>\n Of course, this set me off down a rabbit hole, checking the distance to Cartagena, working out how I could send a text warning the family of the change of plan.<\/p>\n But then, what if the boatyard in Cartagena turned out to be no good? Heaven knows when I would find one in Panama, and I could hardly sail back against the wind to Santa Marta again.<\/p>\n No, better to check in, get a quotation and, if necessary, do some more research on facilities in Cartagena. Also, in Colombia, you don\u2019t just go through the tedious and expensive check-in procedure once, but each time you enter a new province \u2013 and Santa Marta Marina takes care of all of that free of charge.<\/p>\n I could visit Cartagena by bus \u2013 stay a couple of nights. It would be an expedition. Also, I had vague notions of doing a month of intensive half-days at the Babbel language school there. But now I\u2019ve discovered Michel Thomas\u2019s audiobook course, maybe I won\u2019t need to.<\/p>\n Meanwhile, somebody wrote and complained that The Voyage #1 ended too abruptly when I arrived \u2013 that they would have liked to know about the first beer in a waterfront bar etc\u2026<\/p>\n I got into Santa Marta Marina at lunchtime full of plans for a very cold beer because I\u2019d turned up the fridge to save electricity, only to have the\u00a0marineros<\/em>\u00a0who took my lines tell me that I wouldn\u2019t be able to get off the boat until the immigration departments had processed my visa.<\/p>\n And that wasn\u2019t until eight o\u2019clock at night.<\/p>\n Meanwhile, do you want to know the best thing about a cold beer in Colombia? It comes in a proper 330ml bottle and costs $2.30.<\/p>\n Aruba, delightful as it is, has a tourist economy, so they put a particular tax on alcohol (I paid $60 for a bottle of whiskey!) Even the the local Balashi beer which the bars serve in silly little 200ml bottles costs $7! An ice cream is $8!<\/p>\n So don\u2019t you believe everything you hear about small boat cruisers in tropical climes \u201cliving the dream\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Book links:<\/p>\n The Voyage #1 (4.5 stars): https:\/\/amzn.eu\/d\/4quFrCb<\/a><\/p>\n The Voyage #2 (4.8 stars): https:\/\/amzn.eu\/d\/cwDBADA<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It\u2019s an awkward thing, this failing to learn from experience. But it does give me something to write about. Or it would if the consequences did not risk offending readers of a delicate disposition. I forgot that you mustn\u2019t put kitchen roll down the loo on a boat. So, now the head is blocked and … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3007","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3007","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3007"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3007\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3085,"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3007\/revisions\/3085"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3007"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3007"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3007"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/racecoast.net\/omstest\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/11\/IMG_4208-300x225.jpeg\")
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