Expanding Horizons

I had a good internet session and managed to book my return flights to the USA.  I knew that American Airlines (AA) serviced the route so I went straight to their web site because I was in no mood to shop around or deal with a non-English-speaking airline.  But even within the confines of the AA web site I still had to be very much the travel agent.  I was given generous choices for departure and return dates and routes.  I could go to the USA via Dallas, Miami, or JFK in New York.  The JFK route looked good until I happen to notice that I would depart for Seattle from La Guardia, which meant a change of airports.  I'm sure that there is an excellent shuttle service between JFK and La Guardia, but then again, why throw that complication into the mix?  Another route gave me only 2 hrs 10 minutes between arrival Miami and the next flight,  which made me a bit nervous because I would have to clear customs and immigration and get to my gate in that time.  I chose a route that would give me over 3 hours at my entry into the USA.  The cost was $1282 Aussie dollars (AUD) which I consider OK considering the surprisingly long distance to be travelled, which is over 6,000 miles.

I arrive in Seattle at 12.50 PM on Wednesday 29 August and depart Seattle at 12.05 PM  on Tuesday 6 November.  That puts me in the Northwest well before the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival (7-9 Sep), and just past Arnold's and my birthday on 4 Nov.  I make that a total of 71 days, which is a generous 10 weeks.

It then dawned on me that I really shouldn't book a hotel room in Rio until I figure out how to get to the city.  (The bus, for example, might run only 3 or 4 times a week.)  So my next step is to line up transport to Rio de Janeiro.  Once I've done that I'll book a room in Rio for 2 or 3 nights.

I then returned to the boat for more prosaic endeavours.  I arrange the V berth cushions that had spent the night on the deck draining to take advantage of the brilliant sun.  I then got enough gear out of the V berth area to allow me to open the lids of both sail lockers to give them an airing.  Fortunately both lockers seemed dry.  I cleaned the entire V berth area with a solution of water and bleach then hung out the 3 wool blankets that had served me so well since La Paz.  They had not gotten wet, nor were they particularly dirty, but I figured that they could use a good dose of fresh air and sun light before I packed them away.

Then I decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather for a walkabout.  I headed for the fuel jetty that I had visited with the boat on the way in.  I wanted to make sure that there was a good path on which I could push one of the marina carts loaded with empty fuel containers. 

If one looks at a Google satellite of the Bracui marina they will be able to  easily spot the hardstand area and adjacent service buildings.  I had been perplexed over why the satellite photo showed only 1 or 2 boats on the generous hardstand area, and on the ground I saw the sad answer.  The section had been built to a high standard and I could see that the solid buildings had once housed various boat support services, but now were abandoned and derelict.  It had been a wonderful idea, with plenty of boats in the marina which should have supported it.  Today it should be a thriving centre of boat services with a travel lift and plenty of client boats, but somehow the idea didn't work out and it was sad to see.  Perhaps marinas closer to Angras took the business.  It was sad because Bracui is a great place and has not seen its full potential.

I walked around the hardstand section and found my way to the fuel jetty.  It was more than a fuel jetty.  It had a small cafe and store.  The store didn't seem to sell bread and vegetables, but at least it sold beer.  I started talking to a lady from the business who spoke a tiny bit of English and was very helpful.  I learned roughly their hours of operation, the fuel prices, and that it would be OK for me to show up with my containers on a cart.  The cafe serves things like French fries, chicken, and of course beer, and they have WiFi!!!  She told me that tonight was “happy hour” going until 10  PM and she could guarantee the presence of locals who spoke fluent English.  I was tempted but after reflection thought that things were moving a bit too fast.  I wasn't ready to meet people and possibly get launched into social commitments, though I certainly needed a lot of information about my surroundings.  I decided to give it another week to allow me time to sort out the transportation and other issues for myself.  Next week I would attend the “happy hour” better prepared and more receptive to new acquaintances.

After returning to the boat and getting everything below decks to protect it from the dew (The cushions need one more day of sunlight.) I walked over to the little booze kiosk with a 5 Reals bill in my pocket.  On the way to the bar I passed a man on a nice boat whom I'd seen around and had a nodding acquaintance.  Other than that I figured that he didn't know me from a bar of soap, as the Aussies say.  “Good Afternoon”  he said to me in English.  Pleasantly surprised I replied “Good afternoon to you, sir, and thank you.”  Word gets around, and you can't fool the locals.  I might be flying an Aussie bandera, but they know Spanish when they see it.  On my first day after my arrival I said “Hola” to one of the local boat owners as he passed by and he stopped and asked me if I was from Espana.  “No, Nacio en San Juan Puerto Rico” I replied.  That seemed to satisfy him and he walked on.  And the bar tender learns fast.  I asked for a beer and handed over the 5 Reals note and got the beer but no change.  I asked about the change and I'm pretty sure that he told me that he didn't give me change because he expected me to have a second beer.  I had two beers enjoying and appreciating very much the beauty and serenity around me then returned to the boat to write this blog entry.


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This morning I picked up my laundry, all neatly folded and packed in a sturdy plastic bag.  Back at the boat I put out the V berth cushions for another day in the sun to ensure that they are totally dry inside.  The lids to the sail lockers are up so that they can get a good day of ventilation.


During the internet session I learned that a bus leaves every hour on the hour from Angras for Rio de Janeiro, with no reservations required.  Given that I already know how to get from Bracui to Angra by bus, I'm feeling pretty good about the travel to Rio.  Latin American countries all seem to have great bus systems.

I then looked into hotels in the Rio area.  There was a lot of material to digest and there is plenty of time, so I decided to give myself more time to decide where I will stay in Rio, and for how many days.

I also looked at the location of Antonio Carlos Jobim International Airport ("Galeao") and was happy to see that it is only about 15 km from the center of Rio.