Official Clearance into Angra

Small Boat Harbor at Angra

Homes on the Hill

Business as Usual with the Birds

Nice Walk Along Breakwater

[Photos 299, 302, 304, 305, 306]

It was a long day dedicated to one thing: finding my way to the Policia Federal in the town of Angra to obtain their “passe de entrade de embarcacao”, their permit to enter by boat.

The day started with the first real rain that I have experienced in this region but I could see from the partly cloudy sky that it probably wouldn't last and fortunately it stopped after 20 minutes.  I was amazed at how calm the water was and how calm it had been throughout the night.  The marina is in what is actually mile-long lagoon with the marina at the southern end and canal type developments on up to the northern end.  It is very close to the Bracui river, but is not part of it.  I suspect that it is artificial, though no doubt based on pre existing lowlands.  In any event, the entrance is narrow and already protected by the numerous islands between the marina and the open sea, and seemingly rendering it immune from ocean swells.

At 9.30 AM I set off with my pack pack containing the official documents, my camera, and a few other things.  On the way out I dropped the Monitor lines to make movement on and off the boat easier.  (There are more improvements to come.)    The girl whom I had been dealing with was not at the office so I announced that I was heading into Angra to visit the Policia Federal.  One of the ladies wrote down the bus schedule and pointed me in the direction of the bus stop.  I found the bus stop, a solid 4-post shelter with a tile roof, and waited.  Soon a local woman showed up and I explained who I was and that I was trying to get to Angra.  She told me that the bus would come at noon, two hours away. 

Fortunately instead of going Walkabout I decided to stay and wait for the bus.  Soon I saw a young girl drive up on a motorcycle with a young man at the back.  They chatted with the woman waiting for the bus and soon the young motorcycle driver came and started talking.   I got the message that I would be driven on the motorcycle to the main highway where buses were more frequent.  I agreed, thanked everyone, and soon I was on the back of a Honda being driven by the young guy, with me wearing the cosmetic-scented helmet of the girl. 

The bus ride to the main highway was just over a mile long and on the way I got good looks of canal type developments with fine homes with fine yachts in their private jetties.  At the highway we passed through a guarded gate, suggesting that the entire area one big gated community.  At the bus stop I thanked the young man and within 10 minutes I was on a bus on the way to Angra.  Fortunately the driver took cash and had plenty of change.  The charge was a princely $R2.60, which must be just over $2.  Angra is less than 6 miles away by air but because the highway goes around various bays the actual ride takes about an hour.  For me it was very interesting because frequently another bay would open up with the inevitable boats on moorings, waterside homes, and the occasional small marina.

On the way a tall younger European looking man (aren't most of them “young” in my stage of life?) got on and I privately marvelled how so much alike we were dressed.  He had brown track shoes with white socks on his feet, khaki shorts with cargo pockets like me, and a back pack like me.  Our short sleeves shirts were the only difference.  About 20 minutes later he pulled out a book that in a quick glance appeared to be an English dictionary.  On the principle of Nothing Lost Nothing Gained I stood up and asked him if he spoke English.  Indeed he did.  He was from St. Luis and had recently arrived in  Brazil to employ his skills as a PhD in philosophy.   We had a short but very enjoyable chat until we arrived in the centre of Angras.  I passed my boat card to John and hopefully we will see each other again during my on-and-off stay in the area. 

Finding the Policia Federal then became the next challenge.  I asked at a pharmacy but they could not help me.  A man in the street then pointed me in the right direction.  From there on I stopped at every government building that I encountered and was pointed onward.  Eventually I found it and fortunately the agent spoke reasonable English.  He required photocopies of my passport, boat registration, and other documents and he directed me to a commercial office supplies place that would do it.  I got the photocopies made but got back to the office at 12.05, which meant that they were closed until 2 PM.  Not to worry.  12 noon was when I would have been boarding the bus at Bracui if those kind people had not helped me out, so as far as I was concerned I was well ahead of schedule.

I decided to use my time to go after a target of opportunity that I had selected back at the boat: a badly needed haircut.  I went for a walk along the waterfront and ran into the Information Centre. There I asked a question that I will no longer ask because it seems to elicit derision: “Do you speak
English?”  Every Information booth that I've encountered  in this part of the world has been staffed with English speakers and the typical reply to my question is “Yea”.  Anyway, he pointed me in the general direction of a barbershop and wrote down on a piece of paper phrases such as “I am looking for a barbershop” and “I need a haircut.”  After wandering around I found just what I was looking for: a no-frills, low-overhead barbershop for the working man. (In the up-market and expensive hair styling operation in Buenos Aires I got the second worst haircut in my memory and came out looking like a cross between a muppet and a Seminole Indian.)  I got a great haircut, complete with ears and bushy eyebrows.  (Two things disturbed me, however: his using scissors to trim not just my ear holes but all around my ear lobes as well, and the mirror to the back of my head which showed a great haircut but also a thinning pate at the crown (sob!).

Afterwards I went to a corner cafe and ordered  a double cheeseburger to go (not as simple as it sounds), and had a pleasant lunch on a park bench overlooking Angra's small boat harbour.

At 2 PM I presented my photocopies and asked the agent to look at a time line diagram that I had carefully drawn at the boat.  The outcome was surprising.  I have permission for 90 days in Brazil, but the 90-day clock stops when I leave for the USA, and when I return the clock starts ticking again.  I was so stunned that I asked him to explain it 3 times.  He insisted that if I stay one month in Brazil then go the the USA for two months, when I return to Brazil I still have permission for another 2 months.  He told me that it was very important that I visit him 3 days before the total of 90 days is up, otherwise there is a lot of messy paperwork dealing with fines.  I found this strange, because it leaves it up to me to do the time calculations (backed up, no doubt, by the stamps on my passport), which is a strange way to run a system.  I am a little uneasy about this because it reminds me of Hilo, Hawaii where the official insisted, against my understanding, that because I was a US citizen I did not need a cruising permit for my Australian-registered boat.  This was totally incorrect advice which could have landed me in big trouble.  Anyway, I had to rely on the Brazilian agent's information but would probably cover myself by visiting him as soon as I returned from the USA so that we could come to an agreement on when I should apply for my extension.

Then getting back to Bracui was a drama.  A bus driver at the set of bus stops  that I had been directed to by the Information Centre told me that I had to go to somewhere that sounded like “Largo Legacy” for the Bracui bus, and he pointed in the general direction.  The general direction took me by the Information Centre where there was a different guy at the desk who pointed to the set of bus stop roofs where I should go to.  He explained that buses have no numbers (and there are no schedules, by the way), but they would have their destinations displayed at their fronts.  Well, to make a long story short, I got well-meaning but wrong information from local passenger but eventually got solid information from a bus system member of staff who seemed to be overseeing and coordinating operations.  Eventually I came to realise that the bus would arrive at 4.10 PM (not 4 times a day as it sounded to my Spanish-tuned ears) at a certain stop.  That man watched over me.  Ten minutes before arrival he gave me reassurance and when I was in line for the bus he eyed me and confirmed that I was getting on the right bus.  (The bus, by the way, is labelled “Frade”, a town just down the highway, but only the buses with “Barcuy” below actually drop down into what I know as Barcui.)

The bus ride went well and an hour later I was walking into the marina which in barely 24 hours was already feeling like home.  I dropped by the office where the girl with whom I had been dealing with was at her desk and presented her with my document from the Policia Federal, which she photocopied with appreciation.

By then it was close to 5.30 PM and getting dark. 

I was one tired puppy but happy that I had met my goals for the day.

At Enseada de Sitio Forte

[Note: This blog entry did not appear to have been published earlier, possibly due to recent technical problems with Gmail.  Here it is, from 26 July, out of order.]

At 12.30 PM I dropped anchor in 10 meters of water at Saco Maguaraquissaba, which is in the larger Enseada de Sitio Forte on the north side of Ilha Grande, after 4.1 hours of motoring, which yielded a total of 289.6 engine hours. Our posiion was 23S07.514, 044W16.629. It was a bright and sunny afternoon with the wind at less than 5 knots.

The departure from Praia de Proveta this morning was difficult though instructive. I woke up to a gentle wind from the north, which was good because I wouldn't have to worry about the beach as a lee shore. At 7 AM I got to work, figuring that we would be under way in 30 minutes. Silly me.

My plan was to raise the Swarbrick anchor first while the plow anchor continued to hold the boat in position. However, I soon saw that the rope of the Swarbrick had done one wrap around the chain of the plow anchor. Rather than raising the Swarbrick and then trying to unwind the tight chain of the clumsy anchor around the chain of the plow anchor I elected to raise the plow and unwind the rope around the simpler profile of the anchor. Raising the anchor was hard yakka, very hard yakka. I had to exert every ounce of strength to wind up the chain of the plow anchor a few feet at a time, I had fears of having snagged a disused mooring ground chain. When the plow anchor was near the surface I could see the problem. The chain of the Swarbrick was looped around the plow anchor. That meant that I was raising the 45 lb plow, its 9 meters of chain representing the drop to the bottom, plus two sides of the 15m chain of the Swarbrick. 45 lb of anchor plus up to 24 meters of 12mm chain is one heavy package to lift up.

I could not get the plow anchor on the roller with the weight of the Swarbrick's chain on it, and although I could reach the chain by lying on my chest I could not exert enough force to lift the loop off the plow anchor. I managed to lift the loop of chain off with the boat hook but when the weight of the chain was transferred to the boat hook I could not hold it and down went the boat hook. The chances of it staying hooked on the chain were slim so I accepted its loss, which I greatly regretted since it had been part of the voyage from Fremantle and had served me well. I soon had the plow anchor on the roller and got to work on shipping the Swarbrick. That was not an easy task either. Even with 4 winds of the rope around the windlass drum I had to tail hard with the left hand while cranking hard a bit at a time with the right. Eventually the end of the 15 meter chain appeared and lo and behold there was the handle of the boat hook rising up nicely. Somehow it had become snared in a twist of the chain. I gingerly raised the chain until the end of the boat hook was about 2 ft from the surface and managed to free it and put it back on board. Soon I had the chain around the gypsy and finished raising the anchor with the winch handle. I then quickly lashed the Swarbrick to the top of the Zodiac and attended to the boat, which was drifting a bit close to the fishing boats. I put the engine into reverse which backed us away from the fishing boats while the prop walk turned the boat clockwise toward the beach. I then put the engine in neutral, spun the wheel hard to get a bit more clockwise turning as the boat slowed its reverse movement, then put it into forward gear and off we were out of the anchorage. It was 8 AM and I was soaked from top to bottom in sweat. I had to use a towel to dry my hair and face.

I came to several conclusions from the exercise. First, lowering the Swarbrick anchor over the rail by hand will not work because as I lower the hook I am also holding up increasing amounts of the heavy chain. If I lower the Swarbrick into the water it will have to be over the roller. Second, deploying two anchors is to be avoided at all costs, particularly in variable winds. I can see using it in strong wind conditions to save the boat from a lee shore, but as a feel-good preventive measure I have my doubts. Looking back, had I held back on deploying the second anchor I would have seen the wind drop again before night fall and would have stayed riding with one anchor. Third, I am best off going to the trouble of finding a shallow anchorage so that I can use the plow anchor and avoid the more clumsy Swarbrick "Fisherman" style anchor.

I have to accept that this boat is not well set up for anchor work. The anchor area is narrow and with a very curved deck. Access to the rollers requires squeezing between the headstay and the pulpit. The two rollers are close to each other, meaning that side by side anchors interfere with each other. This is not a complaint but more of an observation. It is all about tradeoffs. This boat is optimized for ocean racing and not gunk holing around anchorages. In that capacity it has served me well and I am not complaining, as I have several times about comfortable beamy cruisers that are dogs to weather.

Once we were out of the bay and I had a second coffee in my hand I looked around and realized what a splendid day it was turning out to be. The sun was shining through a thin sheen of cloud in a generally clear sky and the sea was calm under a gentle breeze. We had an uneventful motor to the new anchorage while I saw through binoculars yet more houses and small fishing communities along the shore. As with all good cruising grounds, the distances are small. I could look across the water and see the shore of Bracui on the mainland only 12 miles away. The Town of Agras itself was only 12 miles away. As with the great cruising grounds of the Whitsundays of Australia or the San Juan and Gulf Islands of the Pacific Northwest or the island playground of the La Paz Mexico area, a movement of only a few miles would find one in a completely different anchorage with its own delights.

As I approached the bay I saw that the ship ahead reported as "unknown" type of vessel by AIS was actually a drilling rig. I was shocked because I come from a world where drilling in world class cruising grounds such as the Whitsundays or San Juans would be unthinkable. Having said that, this is Brazil, it is their country, and I respect that they manage it as they see fit.

I decided to try anchoring at this cove on the eastern side of the bay to get protection from what was then a NW breeze. The cove has a well developed and very colorful settlement along the shore, with maybe 30 houses (some of them VERY nice), several small jetties and small boats, and a large schooner moored Tahiti style against the largest jetty. I was about 90 meters to the closest point on shore and maybe two boat lengths from the line of moorings. This was all closer that I normally prefer, but I had to get this close in order to get into relatively shallow water. With with 30 meters of chain out and the gentle wind conditions I didn't expect any trouble. If I could put aside the thoughts of what MIGHT happen, I would enjoy the exquisite position that we were in.

I had trouble napping because it was so hot. At 3 PM the cabin temperature was 32.3C (90F) which I could not ascribe to residual heat from the engine because all hatches were wide open. It was time to put winter in Argentina and the chest cold behind me and venture into the water. There were a couple of jobs that I had in mind. The first thing I did was to extricate the boarding ladder and put it over the side. Then I assembled my tools: snorkel, long screw driver, wire brush, paint scraper; opened the toilet inlet and outlet valves, then went over the side. The conditions were perfect: the sea was very calm and the sun was shining onto the port side of the boat at a good angle, the side that I would be working at. The water gave that initial chill but thereafter was quite pleasant.

The first thing I did was to head (no pun intended) for the toilet thru-hull fittings with the long screw driver. I poked the screw driver into the outlet fitting, met resistance, poked harder working the screw driver around, and a small amount of that white scale that builds up inside of the hose came out. As I had suspected, enough had collected at the outlet to block it up. After poking the inlet and finding no problem I went aboard and tried the head, which now worked fine. I cleaned the bowl, put a few drops of olive oil in the water to lubricate the seals, pumped it out, and thereafter the head worked like a new one. I thought that those deposits that build up inside the hose are some sort of calcium, and I remembered reading that there is something that can be flushed through the system that will dissolve the material. I would investigate that when I got access to the internet.

Underwater I got my first view of the hull since La Paz and I must say that it was cleaner than I had expected. Perhaps the recent cruising had cleaned off the hull a bit. However, the area that I had been concerned about was as bad as I had feared. The propeller had a coating of hard and lumpy marine growth which would have interfered with the laminar flow when it was turning to drive the boat. It must have heavily degraded the performance of the propulsion and I felt lucky that we had done as well as we had. I had intended to send a diver to clean and inspect the hull before I left MdP but I allowed myself to get distracted by other things, which was a mistake that could have cost me heavily.

I began diving on the propeller with the paint scraper in hand to clean it. It was slow going because with the asthmatic reaction to my recent cold (I am still coughing up a bit of phlegm.) I had very little lung capacity and got maybe 10 seconds at the propeller with each dive. I persevered and after more than 30 minutes of work the propeller was remarkably clean. The sunlight through the clear water was of great assistance. There may be more dives. In the first such dive I'll go over the propeller with a wire brush. After that I'll clean off the propeller shaft. I found the anodes to be in reasonable condition but could use with a replacement in the next few months. (I have a spare set of anodes on board.) I felt that I had dodged a bullet with the state of the propeller and I was looking forward to better performance from the engine work in the future.

I'll probably hire a diver to clean the hull at first opportunity and may have the boat lifted out of the water for hull maintenance before my departure to Cape Town.

After a cockpit bath I tidied up the boat then settled down to enjoy the waning day in one of the most peaceful and picturesque anchorages that I had experienced to date.

At Marina Bracui 22S57.010, 044W23.687

I spent a very quiet night at Ilha de Paqueta, though I had snuggled in so close to the shore that between the gentle wind swinging us toward the beach and the falling tide I woke up at 7 AM in 3 meters of water. That set off the "shallow water" alarm so I had to alter its limit to 2.5 meters. After breakfast I shaved to make myself more presentable.

I worried a bit about weighing anchor. The 7 kt wind was pushing the boat to the beach and with 3 meters of water I didn't have much room for mistakes. My worry was that if somehow the boat turned sideways while I weighed anchor I'd be presented with a juggling act of clearing the anchor from the bottom and making way out of the cove. I need not have worried. I used the winch to draw the boat over the anchor, making sure that I didn't go too fast and overrun it. When I was over the anchor the depth had increased to 5 meters but even that depth was shallow and I managed to crank like mad and get the anchor up without changing the attitude of the boat. At 7.45 AM we were underway and motored toward Bracui with no problems in the calm sea and wind.

On the way in I hailed the marina in both English and Spanish on VHF 16 and got no response. No worries. I would just show up and see what happened.

Fortunately the jetty that I had seen on my approach to the channel into the marina turned out to be a well-fendered fuel jetty. As I crept up a man came out to take my lines and soon I was safely tied up. He only spoke Portuguese but fortunately he found someone, who spoke a bit of English and was extremely helpful. Soon they knew who I was and what I needed and the English speaker came aboard and showed me on the close up satellite photo from MarinPlotter where to go, and to look for people who would be waiting for me. I did this and soon I saw that I needed to berth side-on to a jetty along the shore so I approached it clock-wise so that when I went into reverse the prop walk would bring the stern into the jetty. This all worked fine and soon I was on my way to the office with all of my documentation.

The office was modern and well staffed. The girl dealing with me spoke a bit of Spanish and I told her that I wanted to keep Pachuca in the marina 3 months, explaining that I expected to make a 2-month trip to the USA. She said No Problem, which was music to my ears.

At this point I'd better explain my approach to the issue. I was not inclined to "shop around" the various marinas for the best price to meet my needs. Pato had advised this marina, and that was good enough for me. Nor was I inclined to try to save a few dollars by staying only one week at the marina to give me time to arrange travel to the US, then put out to sea again. I figured that between the time it took to arrange my travel and the time it would take me to make the final preparations for the trip and travel to Rio I might get at maximum two more weeks exploring the islands. I preferred to spend the entire time in the marina and use it to explore points of interest such as historic Parati by land.

The girl asked me if I wanted to pay for one month or all three. I went for 3 months because I wanted the security of tenure. The cost for the 3 months was "2,997.41" which I take to be 2,997 reais. I asked what that was in US dollars but she couldn't tell me. Again, I was not inclined to equivocate and bargain, so I said OK. If the 2,997 reais is correct and I apply the very crude exchange rate of 2.3 this comes out to roughly $1300, which seems incredibly cheap at about $14 per day, or less half of what I was paying in Argentina. My Visa statement and an accurate exchange rate from the internet should settle the question, and I'll report the outcome in this blog.

Then it was time to move the boat to its "permanent" location. A young man was put on board to direct and help me, and two others went to meet us at the jetty. The berthing is Tahiti style. I was forced to spin the boat around in the narrow fairway using forward gear the the prop walk of reverse. At one point I threw the young helper the boat hook and he snagged the rope that would hold the bow of Pachuca out from the jetty. I backed in and after the expected adjustments the boat was tied up with two lines from each corner of the stern and one from the bow. To jump on and off the boat I would simply put pressure on a stern line to bring the boat closer to the jetty then clamber over the Monitor platform. I tried to get one of the men to use one of my serious 22 mm mooring lines for the stern, but he insisted on using the ultra light and supple line that I had thrown to him to position the boat. I will not leave the boat unattended until I replace those light stern lines with the strong ones.

The boat was safely berthed at 10.30 AM. The engine had 295.7 hours on the clock. After tidying up the foredeck I cracked open the last cold Heiniken and while I was enjoying the first glass the office girl came back about something to do with my 3 month permit from the federal police. I think that I must see them, and she agreed that tomorrow would be OK. I told her that tomorrow I would drop by the office with all of my documentation before proceeding to the federal police (wherever they are) and she seemed happy with that.

While she was here I asked the girl if there was Internet available. There is free WiFi internet available on shore, but it does not reach out to the boats. That was good enough for me. In the afternoon when I visited the shore for the Internet work I would take fresh clothes and my kit bag and ask where the showers are.

There is also the issue of shore power. The Brazilians supply 220V which is great, but I'll have to dig out my cables with a view to using either a converter or a new Brazilian plug. Shore power though the boat's 60 amp inverter would be very nice, though I definitely do not need to use the fan heater.

An hour or two later one of the marina staff visited me about connecting me up to shore power. I hastily dug out from the starboard quarter berth "deep" storage the cable that I had used in Argentina. He talked about me going to Angra to purchase a Brazilian plug more cheaply but he saw that wouldn't happen soon so he returned with a new one which cost a hefty 80 reais but connected the plug and soon I had 220V power to the power board inside of the boat.

Then I went ashore to dump the garbage and find out where the showers were. I returned to the boat feeling clean and refreshed.

Ilha de Paqueta (2S59.586, 044W24.465)

At 4.30 PM I began my Sailmail session through Chile at 13.8 MHz and got the best throughput in two weeks. I was sending out at an average of 1750 bytes (characters) per minute and receiving and around 800 bytes per minute. That was about 5 times the speed that I had managed to achieve only 2 days earlier. I liked to think that cleaning the Dynaplate had something to do with it, but only time would tell.

Then I got another surprise the slow trickle of boats departing from the anchorage became a stream that went on into the night at at 8 PM there were only two other boats left, on the far side of the bay. This surprised me greatly because I would have expected most of the boats to stay until Sunday.

The night was peaceful with the wind coming from the west but never at more than 5 knots. At breakfast time it was blowing at less than 1.5 kt over the masthead.

Navigable Gap Between The Islands

Approaching the Beach

Looking Across Isthmus

Weekend Boaters Enjoying Paqueta

I had selected for the next anchorage one of two islands roughly 5 miles to the north, Ilha Itanhanga and Ilha de Paqueta. The two islands were like twins in shape, like dumbbells, though one was bigger than the other. They were both orientated NW-SE, with anchorages on the north side of the narrow portion in the middle. Both islands offered the same prospects for protection and comfort, so my plan was to visit the SE one (Paqueta) and if it looked too crowded for my taste I would proceed to the NW one. I would take a "safe" route which would make the distance to be motored 10 sea miles. The morning was as usual misty but it looked like it would be a sunny day.

The trip went well under a sunny sky and on a calm sea. I decided to save 2 miles and take a more challenging route that would put us in a gap between underwater obstructions about 400 meters wide and it turned out to be good practice for me. As I left the anchorage I saw a sail boat approaching from the SW but they changed their mind, turned around and headed my way. They passed close 30 minutes later and we waved to each other. It appeared to be a charter boat and the skipper seemed to know his way around because he took an even more challenging route.

I dropped anchor at 10 AM on the north side of Ilha de Paqueta (22S59.586, 044W24.465) in 6.5 meters of water over what appeared to be a sandy bottom. I almost passed by to try the other island. The few fishing and power boats did not bother me because they would be closer to shore that I would be, but there was a sailboat anchored in what appeared to be the middle of the tiny cove. But as I passed I could see that the boat was actually close to the SE side of the cove so I decided to motor in and try my luck. I dropped anchor slightly off center and toward the NW side of the cove, and probably a bit farther in that ideal, but it appeared that I would have plenty of swing room with the 25 meters of chain that I let out. The other sailboat was the one that had passed me up earlier, and we waved to each other. The wind was from the south at 7 kt, coming in between the small beach at the head of the cove. The anchorage gave me wind protection on an arc from NW-W-S-SE but the islands that were very close to the open end of the cover actually resulted in 360 degree protection.

The cove was unbelievable picturesque. Motoring in I saw the interesting gap between Paqueta island and the adjacent one, Itanhanga, good enough for adventurous small boats to pass between the vertical rock walls. On the right was the NW half of the island, reaching a height of maybe 250 ft, seemingly all granite rock with deep green vegetation growing wherever it could. Ahead was the low sand beach with palm trees growing on it. Past it I could see past it to the water on the other side of the island. On each side of the beach was a building or two. Then to the left was the other part of the island, reaching maybe 150 ft up. Lining the cove were two fishing boats to the right and all of the rest power boats.

In the afternoon I did some fundamental work on the depth metrics. I had noticed on the passage from MdP that the depth offset was set to 0, meaning that the reported depth was being measured from where the transducer is located. This would give me a shallow reading which might be good as a safety margin but was distorting my computations of ratio of anchor rode to depth. Rather than estimate the depth of the transducer below the level of the water I dropped the hammer tied to a calibrated cord to see the actual depth. The difference between the reported and actual depths was a remarkably low 0.5 meters. I applied the offset and the reported depth went from 6.5 meters to 7.0 meters. For calculating the anchor rode ratios I needed to know the distance from the roller to the bottom. I measured the roller to be just under one meter from the surface so I would call it a meter. So at that moment I had 25 meters of chain out from a distance to the bottom of 8 meters, giving me just over a 3:1 ratio. I can put out a maximum of 35 meters of chain, suggesting I should not drop anchor at any depth over 11 meters. (Yes I know, in a serious wind that ratio will have to go up to 5:1 or 6:1 or even higher. That's where the longer rode of 95 meters would come into play.) I left the shallow alarm setting at 3.0 meters. I would have preferred 2.7 or 2.8 meters but I had a choice of 3.0 or 2.5, and 2.5 puts the keel only 4 or 5 inches from the bottom.

The afternoon sun got very hot and the cabin temperature was at 28.5C (83F). I consulted Bowditch and saw that we were 27 miles north of the Tropic of Capricorn, in what is called the Torrid Zone. The sun during its annual journey will at some time be directly overhead between the two "Tropics" at 23S27 and 23N27. Even that summertime oven La Paz Mexico is outside of the Torrid Zone (Just!). I noticed that people in the boat ahead who had enjoyed lying in the sun for hours were looking red like lobsters.

At 4 PM there remained only 8 other visiting boats in the cove. The wind was still from the south at 4 knots and I was looking forward to another relaxing night.

Before dark I would prepare for my arrival at the Bracui marina, which was less than 3 sea miles away on the other side of Ilha Das Palmeiras a mile to the north. I would put out the fenders and get the light mooring ropes ready. I had a good satellite image of the marina but other than knowing the name of the manager (thanks to Pato), I would not know where to go until I got there. I would attempt to hail the marina on VHF 16 hoping that I would be able to speak with someone either in English or my rudimentary Spanish. But nothing succeeds like success. I figured that if I had managed to hook onto a marina mooring when arriving unannounced at Ilha Bella in the dead of night, an entry in clear and calm daylight conditions should be very do-able.

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At Ilha Da Gipoia, 23S03.809, 044W21.321

I was up at 6.30 AM ready to weigh anchor ASAP. The wind had been calm all night at masthead unit was reporting less than 2 knots from the south, which was ideal for my departure. At 7.15 I began winching up the anchor without assistance from the engine and at 7.30 AM we were on our way.

The Floating Cafe and Bar

Very Popular on Saturday

The passage from Ilha Grande to the new anchorage on the SW side Ilha Da Gipoia was pleasant, uneventful, and short at less than 2 hours. I noted along the way what a good job the Brazilian authorities have done in marking the many danger spots. There were posts and cardinal markers standing sentry over hazards both visible and invisible. Between those markers and good modern chart plotters navigation around this huge bay is relatively safe.

Cleaning the propeller had paid big dividends. In the calm waters and inconsequential wind immediately after departure we were making 3.9 kt at 1500 rpm, and later we made 5.1 kt at 2000 rpm. At we approached Gipioa I gave the engine full throttle and was pleased to see that it had reached 3000 rpm. I had not mentioned it earlier (to not distress Mark in Port Townsend), but on departure from MdP I had been able to get a maximum of only 2300 rpm from the engine, a good indication that the propeller was badly furred up. This propeller lesson was learned from reality rather than theory, and it would be highly unlikely that I would make the same mistake again.

I approached the the anchorage in my usual "jumping bean" mode: a constant cycle of checking, cross checking, and rechecking. When navigating I like to cross check and validate everything, if possible. We crept into the small bay slowly and soon I could see two yellow floats near the beach and a modern and official looking building with a flag pole on the right. When we got closer I saw that the yellow floats had big X's on top of them, which in any language means don't stray beyond the line between them and, to be sure, don't stray to the right or left of the pair. That was fine with me because between the markers was the central portion of the sandy beach. We crept closer toward the beach exactly between the markers and when the depth got to 7 meters I reversed our travel then went forward and lowered the anchor at 9.15 AM. The boat settled over 7.2 meters of water and from the color it appeared that we were over sand.

I then checked out the scene with binoculars and I must say that it exceeded my expectations and hopes. I was surrounded on 3 sides by high hills covered in tropical vegetation. I could see birds that I figured would have excited Brenda so much that I would have had to restrain her from jumping over the side to get to the beach for a closer look. Who knows what exotic birds would be found in that thick vegetation. We had wind protection on an arc from N to E to S and to almost SW. In the exposed sector I could expect some protection from nearby islands and shoals.

The official building at the right turned out to be a modern floating commercial establishment. The deck chairs and umbrellas suggested that they might serve refreshments and possibly food. Otherwise there appeared to be no private dwellings on the island. The intriguing jungle around me and the floating commercial operation made a good case for launching the Zodiac and rowing ashore.

Our position was 23S03.809, 044W21.321 and we were 150 meters off a sandy beach.

I felt so pleased with the outcome of the morning's effort that I cracked open my first bottle of ice cold Heineken in 3 days, even though it was still morning.

At 10.30 I had a look outside and saw how fortunate I was in arriving so early. I had arrived at an empty bay but now there were 6 "stink pot" motor boats of various sizes and a sailboat was coming in. The sail boat dropped anchor between Pachuca and the beach. It was flying a Brazilian courtesy flag with an Argentinean flag at its stern. On board was a nuclear family of 3, and we gave each other a wave. - and oops, there was a ketch approaching the anchorage. I call myself "fortunate" because I get pretty freaky about entering an anchorage where there are already boats present. The stink pots present no problem because they anchor very close to shore, but to sail boats I allow much more space than is necessary, usually to my detriment. (That wasn't a ketch coming in. It turned out to be a tourist boat named the "Alto Austral" with two short vestigial masts for show.)

At lunchtime I counted 54 power boats with 4 more on the way and I decided to put off going shore and decided instead to do more diving under the boat. The wire brush didn't make a mark on the remaining spots of growth on the propeller so I finished the job with the paint scraper, which did and excellent job. I then started on the propeller shaft and while I was at it my head hit a lot of heavy growth on the hull. I had a look at it trying to figure out why that one patch was so overgrown then I remembered that it was the ground plate (Dynaplate) for the HF radio that I had installed in La Paz. I immediately redirected my efforts to clean the Dynaplate thinking that it might help with its grounding qualities, bearing in mind that I had been having a lot of Sailmail communications problems lately. After cleaning the Dynaplate I cleaned the propeller shaft and the cutlass bearing support, and after an hour of work I was satisfied with the state of those underwater areas. There would be no more maintenance diving by me for the foreseeable future.

While I was still in the water the ingress of boats got really serious and I found myself being surrounded by power boats moving close to Pachuca and dropping anchor nearby. 40 meters off my starboard quarter were four power boats rafted together. Astern were two catamarans. 30 meters off the port beam was a gigantic power boat with two large communications domes. Thankfully nobody dropped anchor ahead of Pachuca, which was pointing away from the beach and was the only cruiser and sailboat in the group. (The Argentinean boat had left.) I had a cockpit bath, complete with hair shampoo, under the glare of the surrounding boats. I washed the fluffy bits under the underpants that I had used for diving, so nobody could complain. The atmosphere for me had changed from that of wary solo sailor always on the lookout for danger to participant (sort of) in floating community of party makers falsely insulated from the realities of boating. (You know, anchors magically going down and up with no visible human, and not a safety harness or PFD in sight.) I stated "falsely" because the sad fact was that a sudden 30 knot wind would put half of those boats on the beach. And of course there were of course expensive water toys zipping around all over the place. I looked at the calendar and saw that it was Saturday, which explained everything. I would have plenty of company all night and if that boat to my starboard didn't shut down that blaring music I would mount a night time commando raid to silence it. ("Cocaine", "Rocket Man", Isaac Hayes? What happened to the genius of Carlos Jobim and the Bosa Nova?) Not that I was complaining about the company. My visit to the island had morphed from a solitary communion with nature to a sociological happening of the Brazilian weekend boating scene, a worthy experience in itself. (Western Australians can think of it as Rottnest Island in Portuguese, but Wow, those skimpy bikinis would land you in jail in most of the world that I know.) There was no longer a feathered bird in sight, and who could blame them, but hopefully there would be time for nature later.

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Another Night at Enseada de Sitio Forte

First a few words on my Sailmail problems. As I traveled north from Argentina the Sailmail transmission rates deteriorated to the point where some sessions were taking 30 minutes on baud rates of 200. A few days ago I received a warning from the Sailmail organization that I was using too much air time so I stopped receiving grib files which saved much air time because for some reason transmission of data from the boat is faster and more reliable than receiving data from the station. The only choice of stations that I have is Chile, 1750 miles away. Trinidad is 2260 miles away, Panama 2940 miles away, and Florida 3780 miles away. I've had no luck with any of these three more distant stations, though according to the Sailmail propagation tool Trinidad offers a one-hour window at noon GMT, which I would be trying soon. [Note, I got no response from Trinidad either because they could not get my signal or they were attending to another session - it is impossible to say which.]

A Sailmail session starts with any messages in my "out" box sent out. Then any incoming messages are sent to me. Last night I managed to transmit the blog entry, my position report to Pangolin, and a very short private message. After transmitting my messages Sailmail informed me that there were 4 incoming messages but the transmission was so bad with so many retries that the connection was terminated.

The point is that there will be much uncertainty in by ability to receive incoming messages until I can get ashore and connect to Sailmail via the internet. It's a pity because I look forward to reading my incoming Sailmail at night.

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I spent a very quiet and peaceful night and at 8 AM the masthead unit was reporting a wind speed of 0.0 knots. What secure bliss! It was a brilliant sunny day.

Over breakfast I studied the chart for anchorages on the island of Gipoia, north of here on the way to Bracui. I first selected a bay on the north side of the island which would offer me protection from winds from the E, S, and W, but then I had a look at the satellite photographs in MarinePlotter and changed my mind. Charts are great and are of prime importance, but it is difficult to overstate the advantage of being able to see actual photographs of the terrain. I was able to see which bays had beaches and which bay showed shoaling which probably meant sand bottoms if they could be seen from space. Rightly or wrongly, I prefer bays with sandy beaches at the head because I figure that the holding ground will be good and there will be less chance of fouling the anchor on a rock.

So I chose Praia Do Dentista on the SW side of Ilha Da Gipoia, giving me protection from N,E, and S winds. The distances in this bay are so small that even a west wind would not have the fetch to cause serious wave action unless it got to over 20 knots.

At 8.45 AM the wind came on fast and strong as though someone had thrown a switch. The first gust slammed in from the south at over 20 knots and I heard the chain rattle as it stretched out in the new direction. All three anchor alarms went off because I had set the limits short due to my proximity to the shore. I reset them with more generous tolerances with little worry because if the anchor dragged the boat would move into deeper water. Moist clouds began to appear over the hills. The wind was from the south which meant that I was getting good protection from the hills to my north, and further out to see I could see that conditions were rougher. Since the distances I was dealing with were so small (only 12 linear miles from Bracui) I saw no need to rush off and leave the shelter of this anchorage, so I tidied the boat up and got it ready for travel in case of emergency then made myself a cup of coffee.

Later I had a look around the deck and discovered that the boarding ladder was still down. I could not stow it in either of the usual positions because the foredeck now had the platform with the Zodiac and Swarbrick sitting on top of it, and the starboard quarter berth area was too loaded up to accommodate it. Fortunately I found such a good storage place for it that I'm wondering why it took so long to figure it out. In front of the binnacle is the cockpit table folded down. I turned the ladder upside down with the hanging rails facing forward and backed it to the binnacle against the table. Lashing the ladder to the binnacle was a simple job and now the ladder was secure and as unobtrusive as I could wish for, clear of the floor area ahead of the binnacle and not interfering with passage to the steering station. From the steering station I would look through the bottom two rungs of the inverted ladder, but that was no problem at all.

I then removed the Monitor wind vane figuring that I would not be requiring it again until my departure from Angra later in the year and after that struck the Brazilian courtesy flag to protect it from wind damage.

I had seen two yachts across the bay that were very exposed to the wind and I figured that they must have been on moorings. However, later I saw one of them sailing out with full mainsail up (no jib) and towing the inflatable with the outboard motor attached. When they cleared the bay they gybed the mainsail and headed west. It illustrated the different approaches to sailing. I would have gone out with a bit of jib and no mainsail, let alone an unreefed one, and I would certainly not have towed the inflatable with outboard motor in those conditions.

At 1.30 PM the wind was down to 10 kt gusting to 15 or 16 kt and the sea was flat again, but by then I had already decided to stay at the anchorage another night. I did useful things such shaving for the first time in days and hair trimming of my moustache, nose and ears. I also spent an unpleasant 30 minutes cleaning out the ice box compartment. I was forced to throw away a 6 oranges that I had foolishly failed to remove from their plastic bag. Remaining were 14 medium sized potatoes, one onion, two bunches of garlic, and about a half dozen nice sized carrots. I transferred to the refrigerator the yeast and a half dozen eggs. In the refrigerator were also the Kiwi fruit and plenty of bananas.

The anchor had not budged an inch even though the boat was repeatedly hit side on with gusts of 30 knots. Plow anchors have two great properties. Given that they are on good ground (e.g. sand or sand and mud) and have sufficient scope, they will reset themselves without fouling when the boat exerts a pull from a different direction and better yet, they have a tendency to dig themselves deeper when pulled very hard.

At 4 PM the wind was down to a steady 6-8 kt with little gusting. It was still from the south and I hoped that it would remain so until morning. In the evening I would have a second meal of my latest pork stew with a few glasses of wine, followed by the second half of Jack Nicholson, Helen Hunt, and others in "As Good As It Gets."

Incidentally, the yesterday's dive has done me no harm and has probably helped me. Since that dive the coughing has stopped, though I have cleared my throat a couple of times.

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A Day at Praia de Proveta

I decided to spend a full day in this colorful bay, to relax and get a few things done on the boat.

The night was peaceful with the breeze seeming to blow from all directions. When I woke up at 7.30 AM there was a 10 kt wind from the south. While I was watching the boat got hit with a 21 kt gust and then the wind settled to 4 kt from the SE. I checked the chart plotters and the boat had not budged from its position.

After my third cup of coffee I went out to the cockpit to fuel the boat and saw that the wind had picked up. It was coming from the south - right up the bay - and getting stronger. When it got to 15 and 16 knots and the white caps were approaching the location of the boat I decided that I had to do something because the big question in this situation is whether the wind will get stronger or weaker. I dismissed cutting and running because it would have been difficult to weigh anchor by hand (no battery connected to windlass) off a pitching deck while worrying about the lee shore 300 meters aft, so I decided to hold my ground (literally) come what may. To do that I had to prepare the 35 lb Swarbrick "admiralty" or "fisherman" anchor and be ready to deploy it if the wind got stronger. For the deployment I would use the engine to motor to the same level as the plow anchor, but 20 meters to the side, drop the second anchor, and let the boat fall back. I knew that the 80 meters of 20mm white rope in the upper level of the chain locker was in good order. I then brought on deck the 12 meters of 12 mm (half inch) chain from its storage below the forward hatch and shackled it to the rope. Then I brought the 3 pieces of the Swarbrick anchor on deck from the floor of the clothes closet where it had been stored. I passed the chain from the locker, out and over the port pulpit and back to the anchor. This would allow me to throw the anchor over the rail. I fitted the shaft (stock?) of the anchor to the crown but and when I went to shackle the chain to the end of the shaft I saw that I had a problem: none of the 3 shackles that had come up with the chain were big enough to fit the stock. I went below and fortunately managed two suitable shackles and fitted one of them on grumbling that I would never allow the separation to happen again. Then it came time to fit the cross piece, which involved removing a large nut and using a screw driver to fit a retaining circular clip.

Now everything was assembled with good sized shackles all properly moused with wire and the anchor ready to throw over the side. The next problem was how to stow the anchor on deck. The problem with an assembled Fisherman's anchor is that the cross piece at the end of the shaft is perpendicular to the crown (flukes), making it impossible to store the anchor nice and flat, but I think that I found a great solution. I laid the anchor on top of the packed up Zodiac which is fastened to the platform in front of the mast. The crown was facing aft and flat on the Zodiac. The other end of the shaft was forward enough to allow the cross piece to ride vertically, one side down from the Zodiac toward the deck, and the other up in the air. I could see no problem with this since the inner forestay which I have complained about as interfering with tacking the headsail was now acting as a guard to prevent the sail or its sheets from being fouled on the anchor. I wrapped th chain around the aft cleat and used a short piece of rope to tie the chain to the pulpit. So to deploy the anchor would require 4 steps: (1) remove the rope holding the chain to the pulpit, (2)unwrap the chain from the cleat, (3) undo the rope holding the anchor on the platform, (4) throw the anchor over the side (... well ... actually lower it gently).

Just as I was finishing the work the wind died down quite abruptly to 7 knots. It was as though my celestial sailor friends had decided to give me a gently reminder to get the second anchor ready. It was certainly much better to have gone through the exercise in daylight and in reasonable conditions than to have waited until I HAD to do it, in desperate circumstances and possibly at night. I checked the boat's position on the chart plotters and it had not budged an inch.

As far as I'm concerned the boat is now ready for Angra conditions where I expect calm winds, lots of motoring, and little sailing. Once I am on the western side of Ilha Grande in the main bay of Baia da Isla Grande I expect go get good protection from wind and waves from all quarters.

By mid afternoon the wind was up again to 13 knots. I didn't want to go into the night worrying about what the wind may do, so at 4PM I deployed the second anchor. The operation went as I had expected. I lined up the antenna of a fishing boat with a satellite dish on shore and motored forward until an antenna of another boat came in transit with the satellite dish while steering to the port side of the anchor. When we got to the transit I put the engine in neutral, ran forward, and lowered the anchor as the boat began to fall away with the wind. I must have judged things pretty well because when the first anchor chain became taut again I had out 25 meters of rode on the second anchor. As darkness fell the wind dropped to below 7 knots but I didn't care. Safety and peace of mind come first and besides, I needed the practice. A mist rolled in and we got some very fine rain.

After the anchor work I transferred 42 liters of diesel into the boat's tanks. They could have probably taken 80 liters but conditions were a little rough and I decided to do the rest of the transfer in dead calm conditions.

Weather permitting I plan to move the boat tomorrow. I have chosen Saco da Tapera in Enseada de Sitio Forte, near Pta. de Ubatuba. The coordinates are roughly 23S07.8, 044W17.20. That's on the NW side of the island, only 5 miles away direct and 12 miles by sea. It will give me good protection from southerly winds. According to the chart this like so many other anchorages in the area has a bottom that shoals up quickly and I can expect to drop anchor in 10-15 meters of water, which is where the Swarbrick anchor with its long rode will come into its own.

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At Ilha Grande

The night played out more or less how I expected it to. At about 9PM I began passing a string of 6 or 7 fishing boats 3 miles off my port side. I was getting past them nicely on a NE course when I spotted a large radar blip to the east. For the next hour I tracked it, and it seemed to be moving fast in my direction. My guess that it was the first ship during this passage. Eventually I saw its lights and indeed it was a ship, with its lead lights and port red light indicating that it would pass to my north. When the ship got within 5 miles I was trying to figure out why I could not see it on AIS. Then I realized that although I had cleverly set up the chart plotter for AIS before departing, I had forgotten to turn on the transponder, meaning that the chart plotter had not been getting any AIS data. I don't think that I'll be making the same mistake again. Anyway, it was a cargo ship headed toward the Ubatuba area. By the time I identified the ship I had shut down the engine to see where the blip was headed. Shutting down was wise because the ship passed only 1.6 miles to the north of me. However, with the engine shut down and the string of fishing boats to my north I decided that I was close enough to my objective (about 25 miles) to lie ahull until dawn. I did this and by first light we had drifted south two miles.

The new day brought another problem: a headwind of 15 knots apparent. I had to run the engine at 2000 rpm to eke out 3 knots. I selected a different anchorage on the southern end of Ilha Grande only 20 miles away. The anchorage would give me good protection from all but SW winds, and best of all it shoaled up nicely, giving me the prospect of dropping anchor in less than 10 meters of water.

The wind picked up again and I found ourselves doing 2.8 kt so I kicked up the rpm's to 2300. That turned out to be the turning point and after that the wind and sea gradually eased, no doubt because I was getting some protection from Ilha Grande. I got to less than 7 miles from Ilha Grande before I saw it through the heavy haze and the sun beating from that direction. At about this time AIS reported 3 tankers at anchor to the NW of the island in the Baia da Ilha Grande, which surprised me because I would have expected this area to be a well protected sanctuary.

I had selected Praia de Proveta on the southwest corner of Ilha Grande, a bay over a mile long and narrowing to 0.3 miles wide, ending in a gentle slope coming to a white beach. It proved to be a good choice and everything worked out as well as I could have asked for. I rounded tiny Ilha dos Meros and swung 25 degrees to starboard and entered the bay doing 5 kt. The bay was hardly deserted. There were houses all around, and there were what I later counted to be 20 fishing boats mercifully all on moorings to the left shore of the bay, leaving the middle of the bay in front of the beach clear of moorings and boats. It appeared from how the fishing boats rode their moorings that the gentle wind was from the south, behind me. I crept to 300 meters from the beach to a depth of 7 meters, swung the boat around, put the engine in reverse to make way aft, then at 12.15 PM gently payed out the anchor and rode. At the end I had 30 meters of chain out in 7.1 meters of water just under 300 meters from the beach. The position of the boat was 23S10.939S, 044W20.615W. The wind was registering less than 1 kt even though I could see some roughness in the sea outside of the bay. This was going to be a good anchorage. There were 285.5 hours on the engine clock, meaning that the relatively short passage (70 sea miles) had required 18.2 hours of motoring, compared with the 30 hours of motoring (mostly to charge the batteries) during the much longer 11 day passage from MdP to Ilha Bella.

I then had a beer in the cockpit while I got a good look at the place. There must have been over 100 houses of various sizes and standards. Some of the houses were up on the hills on both sides of the bay. Regardless of the quality of the houses, they all had million dollar views. On the beach were children squealing as they enjoyed the water. To the right I could hear someone practicing the trumpet. (Keep practicing, mate.) Ahead I could hear an angle grinder going. A dog barked from the left. I was amidst a small community.

I was extraordinary tired after the tensions of the overnight passage. After my second glass of beer I had a quick lunch then hit the sack for a deep sleep until 4 PM. I then got up and did a couple of useful things before nightfall. I put on three anchor alarms from the Raymarine chart plotter and the laptop MarinePlotter and OpenCPN navigation systems, not because I felt insecure but because I wanted use to the anchor alarm systems from the latest version of MarinPlotter and OpenCPN for the first time. (Heaven help me if I drag anchor and all three alarms go off.) I raised the lazy jacks and zipped up the mainsail, which I had not used during the entire passage. I then removed the 80 meters of rope from the top layer of the chain locker and reached down and managed to grasp the windlass winch that had fallen through to the bottom. After tidying the cockpit I settled down for the evening. Twilight was nice, with the boat now facing the beach with shore lights on three sides. There was a refreshing coolness in the air, and I would sleep with the sound of the gentle waves lapping the beach.

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Departure for Angra

I had not planned on getting up particularly early because with the prediction of desultory winds I knew that I had little chance of making Angra before nightfall and expected to spend one night at sea. However at 5.30 AM I was waken up by the sound and feel of wind, which was at 12 kt from the south. I got myself and the boat ready and was ready to sail. I switched off the anchor light and switched on the masthead navigation tricolor. (I keep one these lights on day and night while I am moving around in the boat.) I remembered to turn on the AIS alarm and increase the alarm parameters from 0.5 to 2.0 miles security circle and from 6 min. to 24 min. notice. At 6.30 AM, first light, we were ready to sail. But there was one more job that I wanted to do.

In preparing the deck the previous afternoon I gave the D1 shrouds a shake and they felt slack enough to warrant tightening before the passage to Angra. They were not hopelessly slack but certainly night taut enough. I started off by reviewing the excellent book "Sail & Rig Tuning by Dedekam, which Dan at Port Townsend Rigging had introduced me to. The book stated that one could not overtighten the wires using tools 40-50 cm in length, which was an extremely useful bench mark. I went topside with a bucket of tools and set to work. The most difficult part was getting the cotter pins out. The riggers in their wisdom had folded them right back, and at one of the riggers had taken a short cut and turned one of the turnbuckles with the cotter pins in place, bending and flattening the head. I gave the lower (D1) and intermediate (D2) shrouds one complete revolution of the turnbuckle. I had noticed while sailing that the D2's were a little slack but the cap shrouds (D3) had been nice and tight. Satisfied with the new tensions I restored the cotter pins, leaving the only slightly open to make future adjustments easier. I replaced the two with the folded heads. I then eyeballed the mast and it was straight athwart ships. There was a slight bend aft of the mast where the inner forestay was attached. I then recorded the adjustments in a "rigging log" that I started at the suggestion of Dedekam. It had been the first adjustment of my new rigging and I was very satisfied with the job that I had done.

At 7.30 AM I sat down to have a cup of coffee and settle down a bit. The wind had dropped to less than 10 kt, still fair from the south. Perhaps I might be able to do some reaching when I cleared the island. The grib file had reported weak and variable winds but then again grib files for coastal areas are notoriously unreliable. The winds were going to be very unpredictable and I would find what I would find.

At 8 AM with a gentle southerly under a cloudy sky I cast off from the mooring. As we motored north under autopilot steering I got the mainsail ready for a hoist then rolled out some headsail and we began to move well. I engaged Jeff and put the autopilot on standby then shut the engine down. At 9 AM we rounded the NW corner of Ilha Bella and set the course for Angra. We were making over 5 knots under sail. It had been a great exit - ideal, really - from the Sao Sebastiao Channel.

But when I got under the lee of the island the wind dropped off and when I got a little too close to a fishing boat I started the engine and rolled in the sail. An hour later the wind picked up from the port quarter and soon we were under sail again making over 3 knots. I expected a lot of these changes on the passage.

The day settled down to one of motoring usually with bare poles. The sun made an appearance through partly cloudy skies and the sea was flat, calm, and impossibly green. After leaving the bulk of the fishing boats behind near the northern shore of the island we had the sea pretty much to ourselves, with the odd fishing boat on the horizon. I didn't expect any encounters with international ships and it appeared that the tankers taking on oil at Sao Sebastiao entered and departed via the southern end of the channel because the northern approaches offered depths of no more than 15 meters. Once I got past the islands off Ilha Bella and Ubatuba I had plenty of sea room. At 3 PM we were making 4 knots at 1500 rpm with a little bit of headsail to get some assistance from a 5 knot wind off the starboard beam. It all seemed too easy, with the boat steering itself through calm waters with no threats in sight. I instinctively kept looking for dangers but there were none. This was so different from the rough and tumble of the passage from MdP to Ilha Bella. I did a lot of snoozing then made preparations for tonight's meal. The pressure cooker was clean and ready to go, and the beef was thawing.

At 5.30 PM we were at 23S33.235, 044W51.138, about 33 miles from Ilha Grande, motoring at 3.1 kt against a gentle headwind. I had enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine as I watched the day wane and smelled the beef stew cooking away.

I wasn't sure how I would play things out. To travel all night would put me at the anchorage I wanted on the NW side of Ilha Grande still in the dark of the early morning. I could do it with my electronic navigation systems but I wanted the pleasure of seeing the terrain unfold as I entered the bay of Angra Dos Reis. Most likely I would lie ahull 10 miles from the nearest land at Ponta de Juatinga from about 1 AM until dawn. That would put me about 25 miles from my destination.

For good measure I switched on the radar for the night. I got the "feel" of the radar pattern and took comfort in confirming the distance and bearing of blips representing islands with the chart.

I had to be wary of the autopilot. For the second time since leaving MdP the autopilot threw itself into Standby with no warning. I happened to be in the cockpit and witnessed our swing to port into the sun. I suspect that under these conditions the boat would travel in circles due to the bias of prop walk, but I was not about to test this theory - nor go to sleep for more than 30 minutes while the autopilot was engaged.

But for now there was another glass of wine, what promised to be a yummy stew, and perhaps the second half of one of my favorite fun movies, "RED" with Bruce Willis, Ernest Borgnine, and others.

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Last Day at Ilha Bella

The pressure cooker meal last night turned out exceed my expectations. I had emptied a half a packet of lentils into the pot which turned into a very thick soup. I'll start eating the meat off the bone in the next meal.

It was another crystal clear night with little wind. All round me I could see a continuous string of shore lights, as though I was in a gigantic lake. To the south the channel is relatively narrow and the shoreline of the island has a slight curve. The north is more open but the mainland angles to the NE, giving that illusion of enclosure. I could hear the music and laughter of the locals whooping it up this Saturday night.

When I woke up at 7.30 AM I found the sea to be like a mill pond. The wind speed was registering at 0.7 kt, which was very good for my purposes. After breakfast I began working with the furler line that I had purchased the day before. The 10mm line just barely fit through the hole provided on the roller drum. This suggested to me that it was OK with Profurl to use a 10mm line. I then threaded the new line through the rail blocks then through the aft turning block and forward to the winch and rolled out the headsail to see if the thick rope would fill up the drum. There was plenty of capacity left in the drum so I rolled the sail back in and re tied the line to the drum after giving two more turns to the roller, ensuring that the setup could accommodate my largest headsail.

So my mistake of the day before had led to an improvement in that I was now using a stronger furling line with more thickness which would be easier on my hands when I rolled in the sail. Time would tell how suitable this line would prove to be. I was not worried about its tensile strength but the quality and strength of its sheathing had yet to be proved.

The new line was 28 meters long. I measured the old line at 33 meters, meaning that there was 5 meters less of line to clutter up the cockpit. I could see the difference when the new line was coiled up and hanging off the rail. We the new line actually in place I could see that I could have comfortably made it 4 meters shorter. So for my records the specifications for the roller furling line are now: 25 meters long, diameter 10mm (preferable) or 8mm.

While I was at it I end-for-ended the jib sheets to spread the wear, and I am so glad that I did. The port sheet bowline knot was rock hard tight and it took me 10 minutes to free it. The stbd turning blocks at the coaming were frozen so that the jib sheet had been sliding around the block, which was no problem other than providing more resistance to the jib sheet adjustments. I treated both of the blocks with WD40 but still got more movement. I then got out the ball peen hammer and gently tapped the inner block and got minute movement with each tap. In the end I freed both blocks, though they were still stiff and would turn only under load. I would continue treating them with WD40. The port blocks were in better shape and at the end I could spin them with my finger. This was all a reminder that one must visit every piece of equipment on a boat often, even though it may look OK. Things seize up, bind up, get over stressed, etc.

At 10 AM I was enjoying a cup of coffee looking forward to an easy day of preparation. Before lunch I would make one last visit to the marina for a shower and pop in to the jetty office to give my farewell and thanks.

Last night I had received a gracious comment to the blog by a Brazilian who offered the use of his mooring at Ubatuba, only about 25 miles up the coast. I cannot read the blog directly while at sea but Brenda had passed on the comment via Sailmail. My response was that it would be great to visit Ubatuba to meet my blog friend and have a look at the town. But this morning in the cold light of day I realize that it will be unlikely that we can make the arrangements before my departure next morning. I will propose that I visit Ubatuba in December, when I expect to be heading south from Angra headed for Florianopolis for provisioning and departure for Cape Town.

Before leaving for the marina at noon I used the 20 liters of fresh water in the containers to wash two bath towels, the galley towel, and a wash cloth. Bath towels require a lot of fresh water because they act like big sponges, and I washed them because I knew that I would be re filling the water containers.

At about noon I went to the marina and had a wonderful hot shower complete with shampoo. While I was at it I washed my underclothes and a fluffy track suit bottom that had gotten a dose of salt water. After all was washed I had a difficult time in turning off the shower because it was so enjoyable. I left the shower very satisfied with the knowledge that at this point all of my laundry was clean.

I motored back to the boat and after lunch and a short nap got to work on getting the boat ready for sailing. The big job was to hoist the outboard motor on the davit, the most difficult part being setting up a rope harness around the engine that would safely hold it upright for the hoist There is a point where the engine is left alone, dangling a few feet from the ocean surface by the harness hooked to the davit line, so the harness must be good. I got that done then went through the process of lifting the Zodiac onto the foredeck using the staysail halyard. Once that was done it was a matter of folding up the Zodiac and lashing it to the platform above the life raft in front of the mast under a tarp. At 5 PM the deck was ready for sailing. In the morning I would spend 30 minutes getting the interior ready for sailing.

I then spent 30 minutes in the cockpit enjoying the waning day over some red wine, thinking how things had gone so well during my brief stay at Ilha Bella. Once the club had accepted me as a visitor the staff were marvelous to me and I had spent a generous 5 free days at their mooring. I would certainly recommend Ilha Bella as a stop to any passing cruiser, either to make formal entry to the country at Sao Sabastiao, or just for a pleasant Rest and Relaxation visit.

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More Preparations

This morning I did a very good thing. I had arrived at MdP knowing that there was a tear in the sheath of the roller furling line. This is the line that prevents sail from rolling out when you are using only part of the sail and is also used to roll the sail in. I had thought of adding this to the "to do" list for the riggers from Buenos Aires but they had enough on their plate and I mistakenly thought that I could get away with the line as it was. I did end-for-end it before they put up the new headstay.

Unfortunately the line arrived in Brazil in bad shape. There was a on-inch gap in the sheathing, exposing the core which worryingly had tear in a small section of it. I don't use a winch on that line to roll in the sail, lest I over stress the system. But I do use hand power, often pulling with all of the strength in my arms, legs and back that I can muster. In a howling wind with the sail flogging because I've eased the sheet to get the pressure off for the rolling in, there is desperation to get that sail sail rolled in and sheeted as quickly as possible to prevent damage to the it.

Fishing Boat Jetty on way to Petrobras for Fuel

Getting Fuel on Floating Fuel Depot

Church not far from marina

Were that line to part during a roll-in the sail would roll out to its full extent and the only option that I would have would be to free the halyard and run forward to try to pull the sail down any way I can. In a rough seaway and particularly at night this could be a very dangerous task.

This morning I decided that I would try to purchase a replacement line but instead of estimating the required length I would take advantage of yet another splendid sunny day with a whisper of a breeze to roll the headsail completely out and actually measure the line. Before the rollout I went forward to look at the furler and that there must have been 12 or 15 windings of the line around the drum when the headsail was fully rolled up. The riggers would have done this. Not having a sail to work with, they would have put enough extra turns on the drum to allow a rollout of the largest genoa. I saw an opportunity here. I untied the furler line at the drum and retied it with only 2 or 3 extra windings around the drum when the headsail was furled, freeing more than 6 meters of line. This moved the damaged area more than 6 meters toward the cockpit. At the end I had the capability to roll out the headsail to the first mark - very close to completely rolled out - and still have the damaged part of the line inboard and slack while I had a good grip on the line to haul it in. This meant that I would get to Angra without risk from this problem. I would still try to find a replacement line here at Ilha Bella, but I wouldn't have the pressure to purchase anything, even though it might not be suitable.


After this satisfactory outcome I did some hand washing of clothes in the cockpit using warm soapy water. At the end I had 5 sets of underclothes hanging on the "Dieter" line drying in the sunny breeze. I brought in the Ice Breaker woolen garments that I had washed yesterday and packed them away all clean, dry, and smelling of the perfumes that they put in the soap. The last time I had done this I had packed them away confident that I would not need them again until the passage to Cape Town. After using them on the passage from Argentina to Brazil, I am not confident that I will now not need them again until next December when I depart for Cape Town.

I then went ashore taking the two empty 10L water containers and two 10L diesel containers. The outboard motor started on the first crank. At the marina I filled the water containers then walked over to the floating fuel station and purchased another 20 liters of diesel. Along the way I took photos of the marina and the fishing boat harbor. I also took photos of the PetroBras fuel depot on a barge at the end of the jetty. It is modern, well equipped, and well staffed operation. Back at the boat I was surprised that the diesel tanks took all 20 liters of diesel, making a total of 60 liters that I had put into the tanks since leaving MdP. I would purchase 20 more liters because I will not accept that the internal tanks are full until I see that the fuel is up the the brim. Because I there is no fuel gauge and there is no way to plumb the tanks the starting point for my consumption estimates must always be full tanks.

At 2 PM I set off on the long walk to the bank and some shopping for provisions. On the way I dropped into the little boat shop where I had seen Thomas the day before. My memory was that I required 27 meters of 10mm diameter line. The girl had a reel of beautiful looking 10mm line which I thought was reasonably priced (because it was made in Brazil and not imported). The line felt too thick even though the number in my brain told me that it was correct. It was Saturday afternoon, I would have only one crack at it, so I purchased 28 meters of it, was given a bit of a discount, and paid 200 Reais, or roughly $90. I then made the long walk to the bank enjoying the various beaches, beach side restaurants and bars, lots of boats, and Brazilians enjoying the beach. You wouldn't have know that it was winter by the way the people were enjoying the sun and the water. I got another 800 Reais at the ATM then pushed on the the supermarket where I picked up fruit (oranges, bananas, kiwi fruit, and 2 mangoes), bread, paper towels, and a few other things. When I got back to the marina at 5 PM I got the empty fuel containers from the Zodiac then went over to PetroBras to get another 20 liters (making a total of 80 liters). Back at the boat it took another 10 liters to top up the boat's fuel tanks, making the total fuel consumption on the passage from MdP to 70 liters (for 30 hours running, or 2.3 ltr/hr).

Then I checked the roller furler line and my impression has been correct: it is an 8mm line and I had purchased the wrong line. It's no biggie. Tomorrow I'll see if the roller can take a 10mm line. Even if the 10mm line fits through the hole at the top of the drum, the thicker line may fill the drum up too soon as I wind it in. If the 10mm line can't be used I'll keep it for emergency jib sheets and purchase the 8mm line at Angra.

As I sipped a glass of cold Heineken I thought of the situation and concluded that I was ready to sail on to Angra Dos Reis. I had made my formal entry into Brazil, had topped up the fuel and fresh water, had purchased fresh fruit and more bread, and had plenty of Brazilian currency. I would dedicate tomorrow to prepare the boat for sailing. In the morning I would try to fit the new roller furler line if there was little wind. I would make one last visit to the club to have a real shower and then return to the boat for the rest of the day to get the outboard motor up on the rail, pack the Zodiac forward of the mast, and prepare the interior for the rocking and rolling that may happen on the next leg. Otherwise I would try to rest and relax as much as possible. One concern was the wind. For the previous two days it had been non existent from the sailing point of view. Nevertheless I did not want to overstay my welcome with the club to the point where I would be asked to leave, so I would depart on Monday morning even if I had to motor. ... The only thing that would stop me would be a strong adverse wind, in which case I would visit the club, explain the situation, and offer to pay for my remaining days at the mooring.

In the pressure cooking were the makings of what promised to be another good stew. The meat looked to be part of a lamb's leg. I threw in lentils, two potatoes, two onions, two carrots, three cloves of garlic, chopped celery, and a can of corn kernels.

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