Ocean Odyssey

Strange worlds, never ending journey

2010-03-04T11:19:00.000-08:00

Though this blog was meant to be about my family's travels down the isles of the Caribbean, I lost the steam halfway and never completed the tale. I look at pictures and wonder about the people I met, what they are now doing. I was lucky enough to go sailing again in Trinidad, Grenada and the Grenadines around Christmas and New Year 2010. I met some of the people I have been wondering about. They are all fine and continuing with the business of living. How absolutely wonderful.
I was back in that familiar world, where I am perpetually a stranger looking from the sea onto the land and yet when I arrive on the land, I am content to be looking out at the sea. Grenada was as always amazing. We were welcome with huge smiles and hugs and everyone missed Ingrid. She made quite an impression on the islanders-they all sent their regards to her.
Trini was as it always is though the pomp of the petro dollar had faded with the dwindling money stocks in the world. But they were not fazed, the Trinis. At Christmas, they were preparing for the February Carnival. That's advanced planning!
The people of the grenadines were recovering from New Year's parties.

Visa nightmares

2009-11-25T00:10:00.000-08:00

Oh poor us with passports that no one seem to respect. Good thing I love my country, I at least can appreciate the irony of being refused entry in a country where you have no desire to live.
Dear dear Ingrid was subject to the most bizarre visa story. A saga developed as soon as we were told she needed a visa. It became even stranger when I tried to excricate an explaination for this refusal since I also possessed a South African passport. Oh, it's because you have an American visa in yours, I was summarily told. Now don't ask me to explain illogical ideas but safe to say that I failed to understand how my having a visa to a different country and thus getting entry into another one had any relation. I thought that was only reserved for the EU and the Commonwealth! We were turned back with stern warnings that Ingrid cannot go on land unaccompanied. A migration officer would be provided, at full charge of course, to escort her around. Her own private bodyguard in state uniform who has nothing to do all day but accompany an African woman as she looks at paintings, visits music stores and cafés. mh, this was deemed to be interesting.

I am still around

2009-11-25T00:06:00.000-08:00

I am jotting notes from this travel though I am nowhere close to finishing the travelogue for the voyage down island.
Bear with me and many notes will come your way.
ciao bella
p

Blog wins South African radio competition

2009-05-28T13:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends
Just to brag a little and to thank my friend Linda who had the brilliant idea of entering our little adventure in a competition held by Radio 702 in SA. They liked the blog and the idea of travelling by sea with a family.
Thank you Linda.
Ocean Odyssey out

Despacho, dismay and the laws of the land

2009-01-29T06:55:00.000-08:00

We were welcomed with bravado to the Dominican Republic. It too exactly 2 minutes for the naval commander to spot us from wherever his vantage view was. As we made the final adjustments on the anchoring manouvre, a skiff with three men pulled along side, and a man in an interesting mixture of English and Spanish announced the arrival of the anticipated commander. They summarily jumped onto our boat, polite enough to ask if they could be allowed to keep their boots on, and requested boat papers. After filling in a long document in many duplicates, the commander via his non-english speaking second in commander who then looked at the translator, asked for a present. I laughed and I was reminded of the Congo. Cadeux. That word I had not heard in a year. Ha, welcome to the third world Pamela.
There was also a litany of papers waiting for us to be signed at the immigration, customs, agriculture, tourism and whatever else office the Dominicans could dream up. This was all starting to sound familiar. I swear, were it not for the Spanish, I would have thought I was in central Africa. IAs I was the one checking us in, I got my pen, all our papers, my charm and patience ready for the hours ahead. And the commander had made it clear that we could not wait longer, no time for another cup of coffee, he adamantly expressed. "You have to check in immediately," after which he departed our boat with a smiling translator who was trying to sell us a Dominican Marine Courtesy Flag. I doubt he, the translator, would get anything of the 'present'. Ergo, he had to push his own businness. As they say in South Africa, i-job yi-job. Viva la vida. I had my own job to do: filling out papers and getting through the authorities with non-existent Spanish.

From the archives of the resident photographer

2009-01-08T12:54:00.000-08:00

From the streets of Luperon.

Dominican Republic

2009-01-07T11:48:00.000-08:00

Here we come
For me who had never been to a Spanish speaking place, I was delighted to have a chance to see the people of this island Hispaniola. Ingrid and I had been attempting hard at learning some useful Spanish which contained phrases about food, directions etc. The best we could come up with from our several lame tries was 'Animate' with an exaggerated Spanish accent which we thought would be useful to cheer up any reluctant customs officer. Mads left all the linguistical challenges to the female crew. Not to be outdone, we imagined that our African French tinged with a bit of slow Spanish would suffice. How wrong we were. We did not understand anything. NADA baby. Flagrant gestures and wide grins were the saviours of our days.

We had a pleasurable sail from Turks and Caicos due south to Luperon harbour on the north coast of the DR, the amber coast as it is sometimes called. By early morning we found ourselves some 10 miles west of Luperon. We had to quickly make it to the anchorage before the trade winds started piping in at 25 knots. We coasted along the beautiful landscape, which we had seen from a distance. It is an amazing trick to the eye when you set your eyes on DR from a distance. Coming from flat Bahamas and Turks and Caicos, it is awesome to see the towering mountains of this island. You are almost deceived and think that the island is closer that it is, only to realise you are still a good 30 miles out.

We made it into Luperon, a harbour in the mangroves, protected by reefs on each side. Here the water is very murky so we had to slowly make our progress into the western channel. There were more boats than we had anticipated and by the look of things it seemed we could not find any space to anchor. We were also weary to continue further down the channel as we knew there were shallow areas in the middle of the anchorage. We found one spot and decided we would return to it if there was nothing better further down the channel. Not clever. We got stuck in the mud. The depth went from 4 metres to 1 metre in a matter of seconds. We had thought we were quite clever and we could avoid running aground if we sailed really close to big boats. Ah well, that just shows you that you can't always trust your eyes especially when you cannot see the bottom. Though everyone was in the middle of breakfast, lots of dinghies came out to push us out of the mud. We were showered with friendly laughs and were told that we were the third boat to have fallen into the same triap that morning. That made us feel much better. You don't want to be the only clown in the circus.

A taste of the Turks and Caicos

2009-01-06T14:50:00.001-08:00

Just to show how little fascination we had of the place, Ocean Odyssey's resident photographer, Ingrid, took only about 30 pictures of our entire visit in the Turks and Caicos. And this is a woman who is unstoppable when it comes to clicking on the camera.

The famous slipper lobster caught outside of Ambergris. The day after Mads had speared it, when we were heading for the Dominican Republic, we spent three hairy hours zigzagging between coral heads in the bank before we could exit. Quel horreur. Sailors be aware of the waiting trap (and we are not the only ones to whom this has happened). This was by far the most harrowing sailing experience we had in the 14 months we sailed.

Thyra thinking about boat tennis.

Commercial Harbour

View of amazing mansions from the boat.

Into Provo, not quite

2009-01-06T13:11:00.000-08:00

The two most interesting creatures we met in these islands were firstly a cockroach looking crayfish in the Ambergris anchorage. Some months later we found out the creature is called a Slipper Lobster. The second were the massive coral heads outside of Ambergris island. Those I have no immediate desire to encounter again.

When we laid anchor outside the commercial bay in the Providenciales Island (Provo), we had to check in at customs in another bay across the hill from our bay. After parking the dinghy next to some dodgy characters, we started asking the same dodgy persons to give us directions to customs, a bar and a supermarket (in that order). The customs office was a ten minute walk, the bar not findable and a mini market a bit of a distance. At the dusty entrance of the busy Provo harbour, we were duly informed that children are not allowed into the premises. Whilst the children and I were coughing dirt and chatting with the security guard who was more interested in his mobile phone than the trucks that were on business at the harbour, Ingrid and Mads went to check us in. Luckily it took a much shorter period than anticipated.

We had been informed that the minimarket was along the newly paved road. The area was a bit odd, a mixture of tropical paradise mansions next to huge building sites and no life to speak of. The minimarket was as exactly as I expected it; a few selected items on the shelves with gravely expensive tags on them.

Central town was far away and we could only get there by taxi and the fee was purpotedly expensive too. I was getting tired of hearing that word but then I realised that I am just a pompous boat owner who is looking for cheap ways to do things. The people there had to live with those prices, they could not exactly opt out. I for one could always pack up and sail away; which we did as soon as the weather was right. We heard mention of barbecues and all sorts of get togethers for sailors and travellers but I must admit, Provo did not quite charm us. Possibly the only charming element of our anchorage was the hotel on top of the hill, which obviously was ostentatious in its days. After checking out with customs, we took the path that cuts right across the hotel. At first we were sure that it was uninhabited and then as we found ourselves on the main ground, beautiful aromas were wafting across the parched lawn. The whiff was that of food. To our amazement, the place was full of Asian people. On the clothes lines were colourful silk clothes which brightened this erstwhile grand hotel with its magnificent views. We later found out that the Asian people were part of the construction and marine industries. Such are the demands of capitalism and the chase for a better life for one's children: these will move you worlds away from that you love most.

The following day we left not having seen the town of Providenciales.

More blogging coming

2009-01-06T10:43:00.001-08:00

I know I promised to tell the Caribbean tales. More is coming. There are stories from Turks and Caicos, Dominican Republic, Virgin Islands, St Kitts & Nevis, Antigua, Dominica, St Vincent and the Grenadines, Grenada and Trinidad and Tobago.
It should be good reading.

old goodies

2009-01-06T10:39:00.000-08:00

LOOK WHAT I FOUND LYING IN THE OLD BLOG ON BLOG.CO.UK
Her lady Ocean Odyssey awaits guests
The dark burgundy Ocean Odyssey, a Moody 42 sailboat awaits to be traversed over blue waters and to be taken to far shores. The lady, as the American friend Peter calls her, ís resting in the western coast of Florida after we purchased her. The proud skipper, Mads, who spent a month rehaulling her and cleaning out every accessible dark corner from inside the hull is anxious to return to her. We are still in Denmark, scheduled to return to the lady at the end of July.Friends, check your calenders and start booking your visits with us. We anticipate that we will spend a couple of months in the lands of the Carib and the USA so feel free to join us anytime from August 2007.

Hello Turks and Caicos

2008-11-19T07:38:00.000-08:00

I know that to many the name sounds vaguely familiar but one can't quite figure out where one has heard it before. In the Atlantic, just under 80 nautical miles south east of Mayaguana in the Bahamas lie the islands of this British Overseas Territory which boasts a population of approximately 30 000. The Turks and Caicos islands are very similar to the Bahamas; full of coral reefs, flat, semi-arid, a little short of fresh water and blessed with absolutely clear blue water. One of the longest coral reefs in the world is found along these islands.

Bye Bye Bahamas

2008-11-13T15:19:00.000-08:00

Jamaica Cay

Our second last stop in the Bahamas was the idyllic island of Jamaica Cay where we had a barbecue on the beach with miles and miles of golden sand and no one else around. Not even sandflies disturbed our precious evening meal.

The following day we left for Salina Point settlement, the most southern village on the island. We negotiated for five hours through shallow water dotted with menacing coral heads. At some point we had to take the sails down as the wind was piping up and it was becoming difficult to steer the boat with that much power on the sails. We motored the rest of the way through some treachorous areas in the bight of Acklins and then came out on the deep side and headed straight south.

At the entrance to the bight on the southern side, we were met by jumping dolphins who seriously looked like magical creatures in the orange afternoon light. I knew then how the references to mermaids originated. As we watched, the telephone rang and we were all taken aback as the Bahamian telephone network was a bit of a hit and run making it impossible to know when you would be able to receive or make phonecalls and that we had not used the phone for a month. It was Tshina calling from Denmark wishing Pam a happy birthday in advance.

We crawled our way through some more coral heads in an attempt to find a place to anchor. We tired to anchor twice and still no luck. The bottom being rock solid hard was not cooperating with us. In the end Mads snorkelled down to the third anchor spot and had to shift some sand for the anchor to settle a bit. We had, earlier with Liz and Paul, made jokes about American seamen who told stories of carrying shovels for digging holes for their anchors and had written them off as ridiculous and bored yachtsmen. Not that a shovel would have helped in this coralled bottom but it would have saved the skipper's arms from engaging in complex under water exercises for which no water aerobics class can ever prepare you.

We settled for the night and watched the fishermen's boats rolling in the shallow waters.

Salina Point Settlement

Mission water collection was on the programme. Ingrid, Thyra, Fika and I left the skipper to go and forage in the neighbourhood. This time it would take a dinghy ride, a 3km walk with four jerry cans to get to the settlement. It seemed that Saturdays were reserved laundry day. All the young girls, whom we asked for directions, were engrossed in the weekly washing of school uniforms and Sunday school dresses. Salina point is located on the eastern side of the island facing the Atlantic which pounds the rocks everyday making the sea look menacing. The village has everything the inhabitants require: mobile phone connection, desalination plant, school, clinic, church and also amazingly 3 restaurants and a small hotel.

We were even escorted to the general store where we could purchase frozen food and canned goods. The proprietor, a very friendly man with a warm laugh, drove us to the public tap, filled our jerry cans and drove us back to the harbour. His children were then asked to load our dinghy and help push us it out as the tide was low by the time we returned.

The captain was pleased to see his crew return. We prepared the boat for departure. We were all a bit subdued as this was our last anchorage in the Bahamas.

At four o'clock on March 23rd 2008 we picked up and waved goodbye to Acklins island. We were aiming for Turks and Caicos, some 160 nautical miles south east of Acklins island. Typically the wind was not cooperating with us as it came straight from the south of east. As we rounded off Castle Island, we decided to make a straight course towards Turks and Caicos and then tack up north. As it were, we tacked up north and the skipper realised that the best option would be to sail all the way up to Mayaguana's north coast and hope that the wind woud shift east so we could make a straight southerly run for T& C. On the second afternoon we spotted Mayaguana and waved and waved. This would be the last island we would see in the Bahamas.

Bye Baha Mar

As we chatted about leaving this beautiful desert in the Atlantic, the fishing rod suddenly started coming to life. Mads got very busy in the next half-hour. We could see that we caught a dorado, the most delicious fish on the planet. As Mads reeled it in, we could see all its fantastic colours and children and adults were clapping like mad in anticipation of a feast. Then the rod just bucked over forward and silence. Lo, the fish was gone. We thought it had managed to untangle itself. But what were we seeing behind the boat. A ginormous shark of some sort. We ran downstairs to check in the marine book. It turned out that it was the rare Atlantic white tip ocean shark. The fellow was quite pleased with our catch and it stayed with us for an hour just behind the boat. We were determined that we were not going to fish for it, so the fishing rod stayed put. We sailed on towards the east coast of Mayaguana during the evening and by midnight we were well out of Bahamian water.

Our exit was dramatic, exquisite and expressed our true sentiments about the Bahamas. We would never forget the warm friendly people who prize their conch and rice and peas above all dishes. We would remember their national pride and resilience in this blue water desert of the Atlantic. We respect them for making themselves into what they today are; from slavery into a thriving people who love their children, their homecoming meetings and their regattas.

What is a Sapodilla?

2008-11-13T15:00:00.000-08:00

Now some of you might be wondering what in the world I am talking about, mentioning strange fruits that are not a common sight in world supermarkets. Well in the Bahamas and the rest of the Caribbean, this very tasty fruit is part of the daily diet (in season of course). It resembles a kiwi but tastes like a mixture between a pear and a mango. If you ever find one, enjoy.

Campari and Sapadillas

2008-09-19T22:10:00.000-07:00

Ivan, the owner of a resort on Delectable Bay (I am not making it up), who took us for a Sapodilla hunt through the bushes.
Next to an old cemetery, we met two people hacking away into some bark, which turned out to be the main ingredient in Campari.

Blue holes and crabs in Acklins

2008-09-19T21:06:00.000-07:00

Meet the two eccentric Brits, Liz and Paul the hardy sailors, though not too hard on themselves, from Wales who enjoy the ocean and their home with the equally mad horse named Alex whose favourite hobbies amongst others include eating from the fruit bowl and switching on lights. Alex and Liz convinced Mads one night to venture out for some nocturnal fishing from the enormous blue holes in the bay. These holes are known to run through from the islands' bank side in the west to the ocean side in the east. Apparently Jacque Costeau, the mad frenchman, in an experiment to determine the length of the blue holes poured dye in one and watched from the helicopter a couple of hours later the dyed water coming out far on the ocean side. I do not quite remember the precise distance but it was over 5km outside the eastern shore.

As Mads could certainly not miss the opportunity for fishing: he and Ingrid had tried for a solid hour, earlier during the day where the fish proved to be too big. Mads had also been swimming in the swirling bathtub and spotted 6 sleeping sharks, large fish, crabs so he was very excited to catch some crab.

However delightfully easy it may sound when a salesman tells you a crabtrap is the best way to catch crabs, don't believe them. It proved toughgoing and all the bait was just eaten clean by the time they pulled the trap up. So came Paul with the brilliant idea of jumping in with slings to spear hunt the crabs amid loud protests from Liz who was not impressed by her intrepid crazy man whose source of thrill that night was to be derived from diving, in the dark, into a huge circular hole with swirls and strong current. In the end, they jumped in.

Needless to say we had crab for dinner the following day. Ai Ai Skipper.

I wonder what the manufacturer was thinking. It is good chocolate at least.

Spring Point Settlement

2008-09-10T21:25:00.000-07:00

Coby, once a bodyguard of a former Prime Minister, has a bar and cafe on the main road of Acklins which goes through Spring Point where he serves amongst other interesting things'pig's feet sauce'. Sauce is pronounced with a very strong southern Bahamian accent and sounds more like 'soous'. Apparently Chinese aphrodisiacs are also available at the bar. At Coby's bar, the local workforce; fishermen, waterworks people, road workers, stops for a midday Kalik, pig's feet and Coby's fresh baked bread.

An ancient cottage in Acklins- there are many of these abandoned houses around. Two thirds of the 300 000 strong Bahamian population lives in Nassau therefore many islands are quite empty.

One of Coby's goats. We could not have this one for lunch though.

The life on Acklins

2008-09-10T20:37:00.000-07:00

What can we say. We have seen many beautiful sunsets and they are never quite the same. Optical illusion? Maybe. This particular sunset was viewed on Long Cay after a very appetising day- goats on offer, fish and lobster galore and not to mention the interesting population of Albert Town. The total number of the population kept changing with each person we asked. The first reported 19, the second 21 and the third 23. So we will stick with the latter. Even small settlements can feel very big (it is demanding work to make a census) and this former capital of the Bahamas felt indeed like that.

And we say hurrah to that.

We non-chalantly walked past this house and commended the workers for doing a great job restoring it. We were also secretly proud that someone has put his/her money to renovate this old cottage only to be told "oh no, no one is going to live here. At least no one living. This is going to be a mortuary" . Oh well, at least the departed will rest well. It turns out that the islands have no facilities and they have to transport bodies to Nassau for embalming before they are sent back to the island again.

ACKLINS and CROOKED Islands

2008-09-10T20:35:00.000-07:00

From Rum our next destination was Mayaguana island lying south east of Rum and one of the truly remote islands of the Bahamas. At Rum we had been waiting for a north easterly wind which typically arrived much later that it was forecast and at that came at night when everyone had gone to bed swearing at meteorologists and the unpredictability of the wind. It was thus that we ended in Acklins; the wind was blowing a steady 15 knots from the east and we were making very good speed and not to mention that we were not heading straight into the sea. BEAM SEAS, who has ever heard of such a concept when sailing from the USA to the Caribbean. We took such a pleasure from the sail that we went through several dishes for dinner. Then the wind changed and in our recently acquired pleasure of comfortable sailing, we refused to give this precious commodity up and instead of sailing straight into Mayaguana, ergo, the waves, we changed course and decided to visit Acklins and Crooked Islands. And what a great discovery it was.

Long Cay
As luck would have it, sometimes it comes in abundance, we continued sailing due south and arrived too early at the entrance to the bight of Acklins. The captain heaved the boat to and waited for first light. After dawn coffee, we sailed into the shallow bight slowly doglegging around the green water, a very unsettling issue since one is used to the crystal clear water in the majority of islands. As we were about to find a good anchor spot, an enormous barracuda leapt out of the water and onto our hook. We discarded it for fear of ciguatera only to be told later that the stock in the area is perfectly safe to eat. A couple of hours of rest for the exhausted crew after a hearty breakfast was on the cards.

In the afternoon we dinghied over to the far lying docks in search of Albert town which lies on the opposite shore of the island. With the baking sun directly over our heads we made slow progress up the hills amidst numerous wandering goat herds. Close to the village we met a man skinning a goat and when we enquired about the roaming goats, he told us we could eat goat for dinner if we wanted to with the only provision being hunting one. It turns out that the goats are wild and with no natural predators the numbers have proliferated. I suppose it is less exerting to dive for conch than to spend your day with a dodgy hunting rifle in a scorcher hunting goat amidst thorny acacia trees.

Albert town is small picturesque settlement dotted with bright and luminious walls . At the centre is an old wooden church that sort of serves as a tourist attraction to the village. Judging by the response of Officer Wright, who overzealously enquired about our mission and religiously took all our details only to be miffed that we were not carrying our passports; one has to conclude that there cannot be that many tourists in the village.

From Georgetown to Crooked-Acklins Islands

2008-09-10T20:13:00.000-07:00

Conception mangroves

Ingrid playing with the camera

the shark that got away with our fish

After spending too long a time in Georgetown, the chicken harbour amongst sailors, we had had enough and decided to start moving eastwards towars Conception and the rest of the east lying islands in the Bahamas.
At Conception, we were met by incredible beauty, unsurpussed if I have to say it myself. This is an uninhabited island of exceptional spleandour consisting of natural bays, corals and mangroves. On our second day there, whilst snorkelling with Mads, it was brought to my attention that a huge shark was just swimming past. Very close encounter indeed at about 10 metres away. In trepidation I looked at Mads for support, who then told me in sign language to just relax and sure enough the shark was gone after five minutes. We identified it as the White Tip which is not known for aggression, but hey, a shark is shark no matter what anyone tells you. Remember Jaws! OK, we know Steven S spoiled it for the shark population, not exactly good PR for the species.

We spent a couple of days at Conception (mangroves with clear water, turtles, more sharks) and left for Rum Cay some 20 miles south east of the island. We departed too late as we were entranced by the mangroves which then meant a late entrance at Rum which is literally covered in corals. We made it to the anchorage without much drama except our elevated heart beats. We swear not to do it again.

Photo sample

2008-08-08T14:03:00.000-07:00

Alive and kicking

2008-08-08T13:58:00.000-07:00

Family and friends
We are alright and still enjoying the Caribbean but we are almost at the end of our trip. However we will update the blog and attempt to fill you in on our meanderings in the last 3 months. or is it 4 months? Watch this space. After the carnival here on Grenada, we should be able to put time aside for sharing our experiences with you.
cheers to you all
Pamela, Mads, Afika and Thyra

The family visits

2008-04-07T17:37:00.000-07:00

Mie and Thyra

We were lucky to have a visit from Kristian (Mads' brother), his son Sebastian and the cousin sweet Mie. They arrived in the midst of very nice weather, knowing how lucky Kristian is, I am sure he had especially ordered this from the Gods when he left Denmark. The beautiful weather persisted for the duration of their stay in the Exumas. Afika was the happies girl on the planet with her cousin to play with the whole day. Sebastian who is 8 years old was a little abashed at his little cousin's constant show of affection but they had a blast. Kristian was immediately put to duty, i.e. cleaning the boat underneath and removing all the growth that had hung on for weeks thus slowing us down. The new diving equipment was tested and it was satisfactory (not too good, but will do). We picked Ingrid who arrived from South Africa and left for the northen part of the Exumas where Kristian had a few bites on his fishing rod. But they got away. And true to his style, he was ready to fish again. Not to be cheated, he went out fishing again and caught a few horse-eyed Jack fish. Mie was happy enough with the swimming and snorkelling but not the sand. Sebastian enjoyed the swimming and snorkelling and seeing the Dutch version of Adam and Eve, a couple we interrupted in their anchorage by coming up early morning and anchoring right next to them.

We caught some barracudas off Leaf Cay but they were too big to eat anyway. Cigautera poisoning deters any fool from even trying a morsel of an oversized barracuda. Mie was our drink specialist and dish washer. Sebastian provided the entertainment.
At Leaf Cay we found our own secluded beach with iguanas who bit on anything green mistaking it for leaves. This is where we spent most of our time, snorkelling and trying tó find a way across the island.

We left for Georgetown on the 24th of February, caught another big Barracuda, discarded it and went for the anchorage. That night we tried the 'Rake 'n Scrape', a Bahamain music speciality. Sebastian was the star of the show, dancing with virtually the entire club of Edies Edgewater Restaurant. The next day we had to say goodbye to our family who had been with us for 10 days.

Georgetown the big boat trap

2008-04-07T16:37:00.000-07:00

Rasta for a day

You know where to get your hair done

Georgetown, in the south of the Exuma, the biggest town in all of the Exumas, can be best described as a relatively alright anchorage. Its best feature is that once you get in it is hard to get out. Then you get to practise the G'town shuffle, moving anchorage according to the weather and internet availability. This harbour, with Stocking and Elizabeth islands acting as buffers against the prevailing easterlies, has sometimes up to 500 boats. Our first week there, the boat count was 250. The town also host the annual family island regatta where both local and visiting boats take their chance at winning.

Now the thing with G'town is that one has to understand the set culture, the hierachies and values of the yachtspeople. The area being full of sensitive souls tends to admonish those with a bit of humour in their bones and only welcomes 'the community' spirit.

The 5F Festival

2008-04-07T16:07:00.000-07:00

Little Farmer's Cay is the proud host of the First Friday in February Festival and it is a treat indeed. One experiences the social network of this small community flavoured with visitors from all over the Bahamas. And they come in their little private planes full of babes, of course. By the airport, the regata takes place and this is where you see Bahamian seamanship and humour. The boats commit fouls against each other, and in true male bravado push each other towards the finishing line. And by Jove do they sail fast the Bahamian C-Class boats. They are a thing of beauty and awe carrying 4 to 8 men who sit on planks on windward to balance the boat. The mail boat (nation wide Bahamian boats which travel from town to town delivering goods and people) came from Nassau and Georgetown carrying at least 5 boats. At the end of each race, it seemed there always was a protest against a foul or unfair decision. We spent the first day dinghied after the participants, betting on the winner.

Enjoy the pictures

Cat Island : Fernandez’s gifts and revenge

2008-04-07T15:22:00.000-07:00

The skipper with the mutton snapper

It may seem we mention the word resort quite often but as a sailor it does fulfil its purpose when you are in need of some comforting and this normally coincides with the mood after a day of bad weather. Such was the fate of the Double O crew in Fernandez Bay north of the Cat Bight. We had been experiencing good weather for days in succession. We should have suspected that something was afoot. Dear Reader, if you ever have a chance to find your Atlas, find Cat Island in the eastern Bahamas and you will see it is completely exposed to the west, which is of course, true to Murphy’s Law, the wind blew a good 25 Knots straight from the Exuma Sound, the least desirable direction, leaving us all wondering when it will change direction. The wind did change direction and we were even sorrier. After two days of a howling westerly, the wind shift came upon us swiftly and demanded attention. That was the first time I heard so much traffic on the radio since our arrival on Cat Island. In 5 minutes, the wind had moved from west to true north and this shift is unfortunately not favourable for sail boats that are exposed. It was the first time I experienced the feeling of being ín a washing machine. Everything moved violently about for a few minutes and then ’settled’ to a rhythmn of a gentler, still rocking move which persisted for a day. The following morning, with dry eyes from lack of sleep, we sheepishly summoned courage and decided to brave it to the restaurant at the resort overlooking the bay. Needless to mention, we had a protracted breakfast. Muffins have never tasted nicer. It is comic to think that bars and restaurants in ships caught in bad weather make a killing as long as the undesirable weather persists (this is a trade secret, I was told by a reputable skipper of a large ferry operating in western Florida). Following copious amounts of coffee, we managed a swim and back to the boat to clean up the previous night’s remnants from a dancing boat. We ended up putting a swell bridle which in simple terms meaning you force the boat to face the direction of the swell instead of the wind. This calmed us considerably not to mention our heads and stomach acids.
Two days later we went fishing and caught us a sizeable Mutton Snapper, a fish of excellent food value. By that time we had already forgotten the havoc visited upon us by the seas. The snapper was indeed delicious and it fed us for a good three days.

Cat Island :Tomatoes and Haitians

2008-04-07T15:08:00.000-07:00

The marine nomads enjoying a well deserved swim at Hawk's Nest

The rest of the day was spent driving up to the northern end of the island and a swim at the tip of the island. After trying to find a place to eat, we were lucky in our fourth attempt and we enjoyed a late lunch in Arthur’s town at Hot Spot, a local joint full of colourful Cat Islanders with a quite share of their life stories. We found out that Sidney Poitier comes from this island. In times before the borders between countries were tightened, Cat Islanders would sail down to Haiti to find brides (so goes the story anyway). And the tomatoes we ate there! Delicious. As we walked doen the hill from the heritage we spotted some boxed along the road full of sun ripened tomatoes. The woman who walked out of her field to sell them was so very pleased that we left with more tomatoes than we needed.
The straw shop run by Mama Irene carried all sorts of goodies made of, you guessed right. Straw. Mads got himself a very durable panama hat which he still has up to this day (april). He is very grateful for a hat that can withstand the marine environment; it has survived a teething baby, submersions in sea water and being stepped on.
We sailed a few miles south to Hawk’s Nest area after being duly warned about the wild life in the area. The mangroves had their fair share of no-see-ums and mosquitos but we were clever enough to stay on the windy side to enjoy peaceful nights. Hawk’s Nest as a marina, a resort and a private airstrip where those rich enough to own or hire private planes regularly fly in for a spot of fishing for the weekend. I can imagine the conversation back at the club in New York (and I mean a real club not the one where you bob your head hoping the DJ will soon play something you like):
Charles: So Harold, what did you do last weekend?
Harold: Oh I flew down to the Bahamas for some fishing. And I caught a gigantic Wahoo, I almost could not reel it in. I think I won the fishing tournament for the weekend, my catch was a good 60kg. I returned with the boys in time for Sunday dinner at Martin’s.
Charles: That settles it then. I will have to fly my plane down next week as well, we can’t have you running around with such an ego. I promise you that I will catch a bigger one next time and I will not even use two days on it. By the way, how is the landing strip there? The madam does not like a bumpy landing…etc etc.

The great thing with the people at the resort was their friendliness, I mean they did not know who we were and yet we could just serve ourselves at the bar and use the internet. Now that is hospitality. We did not even have to put airs, trying to act like we were guests, as yachtspeople, it is almost de rigeur to have to resort to acting like part of the furniture to get a fresh water swim. It does help though with an island that does not have many visiting boats (no yacht fatigue yet). As all TV deprived children, Afika was extremely happy to find that the channel was changed to her advantage. After a few hours in the pool, she had a pre-dinner feast on cartoons and played with little Jessie.

Cat Island: a clear view of the hills

2008-04-06T20:40:00.000-07:00

One of the churches designed and built by Father Jerome on Cat Island

We were supposed to go to Georgetown to pick up a friend, however she cancelled (postponed) her visit, we then departed for Cat Island, some 40 nautical miles east of Little Farmers Cay. By dusk we set anchor in the bight under the highest hill in the Bahamas. The island looked enchanting from a distance encrusted by hills a very different landscape from the flat cays and islands in the north west and central areas. so we were quite excited to see what we would find. The following day, the towering hill in front of us looked so inviting that we had to go. We had read that the island boasts some beautiful churches and a hermitage for a famous priest affectionately referred to as Father Jerome who started as an Anglican priest then converted to Catholicism.
After locating a car rental place at Ms Crawfurd, negotiated the price down by a couple of dollars, we set off to the hermitage. At the parking area, this remarkable and modest building looks over the Exuma sound and the Atlantic Ocean. The hermitage of Father Jerome consists of a small bedroom, a kitchen, a prayer room/study and another room whose purpose we could not discern. One could just imagine the priest waking up at dawn and saying his prayers as the sun rose. This priest lived long in the Bahamas and even managed to change denomination following a visit to Europe. He is remembered chiefly for his architectural skills having built several churches throughout the Bahamas.

A forest gently unfolds around on the east and leading to limestone caves. We pottered around for a bit outside, went to look at the caves and Fika saw two snakes.

Little Farmers Cay first time

2008-04-06T20:01:00.001-07:00

We parted with Alex and Raffi in Little Farmers Cay where they jumped onto Alex’s family boat heading for Nassau. We spent a few days in this beautiful community of people, all descendents of a woman called Chrisanna who bought the island for 30 dollars in the 1800’s. Afika was very pleased as there were children with whom to frolic on the island. She rode bicycles, fished for octopus and did just about all the things children get up to. It was here we met the crew of High Five, a family from Canada with three boys on their way to the southern Caribbean. Fika enjoyed spending some time with other cruiser children and was quite sad when we had to leave the following day. We had interesting conversations with Terry Bain, the owner of Ocean Cabin, who has travelled all over the world and returned to this little community to raise his youngest daughter. The children of Chrisanna have indeed done well for themselves; this small community of cousins, relatives and so forth is bubbling with life where various festivals are held to celebrate different occassions and important events of the year with the 5F(Farmer's first Friday February) festival being the most well known event and bringing visitors from all the Bahamas. We left the place with a promise to return after a few weeks for this famous festival.

Chain gang

2008-01-29T02:43:00.001-08:00

Oh, how we miss the chain mistress. She's gone to see Fidel and then will be back to the Table Mountain. Cheers to you, resident artist.

Raffi learning the ropes

2008-01-29T02:27:00.000-08:00

It was a great pleasure to have the company of Alexandra and Raffi who escaped the Parisian winter for a short break with the crew of Double O. Though the visit was short, by our standards as well as theirs, we had a ball. There are many highlights from this visit: Raffi swimming against the current to check the anchor, snorkelling in the Farmers Cay Cut and searching for conch salad. And now we know something about Alex that we did not: she is a serious fisherwoman. Those poor jack fish had no chance against her desire to catch them for dinner.

au revoir nos amis!

Inside OO

2008-01-27T07:15:00.000-08:00

Ocean Odyssey - the crew

2008-01-27T07:07:00.000-08:00

In Memory of Steven Robin Olejas

2008-01-03T00:48:00.000-08:00

We lost our dear friend and colleague, Steven, during the Algiers bombing of the UN building. Steven, with whom we had worked in DCA, was a sincere and kind person who talked so fast he left people reeling and asking each other "can someone tell me what he was talking about". We will miss him terribly and we send our sincerest condolences to Susanne, his wife and the 3 children.
The meaningless terror which the bombers unleashed leaves all of us empty trying to understand the reasons why people like Steven, who try to make the world a better place, have to be killed.
We will miss him.

Allen Cay

2007-12-30T09:04:00.000-08:00

The Exuma Islands!

2007-12-30T08:47:00.000-08:00

Since we left you, Ocean Odyssey and her crew left Nassau on Friday the 21st, and headed down to Allen Cay, about 30 miles south. There we parked off for a few days to celebrate Christmas with the Iguanas! We anchored in a picture perfect spot, with what we thought was our own little beach, only to find out we were sharing it with hundred of tourist-fed reptiles! This particular species can only be found in this area of the Bahamas, and we were checking them out, just as much as they were checking us out!

The 24th had the galley rockin all day making Christmas dinner, after a colorful snorkel over the coral heads just 20 meters from the boat. The next day we partnered up with Captain Shawn and his crew in Rio and sailed down to Norman's Cay were Mads and Shawn went spear diving. Capt. Shawn brought in 4 lobsters and the whole gang braii'd them up for an seafood extravaganza.

On the 27th we headed down to Shroud Cay for more exploring of the nooks and crannies - and were led across the island through a clear canal to beaches and views not to be believed. The currents were so strong and varried that you could float down one, swim over 3 feet and float back up with the other.

Now we are in Warderick Cay, cleaning up Ocean Odyssey and more exploring, getting ready for sailing again in the morning down to Staniel Cay where we will spend New Year's and wait for Alex and Raffi to arrive from Paris.

Destination Capital City

2007-12-20T02:17:00.000-08:00

Lighthouse at Nassau Harbour
Nassau harbour with Paradise Island in the background

After being battered for 5 days by the wind, we decided to take our chances and leave for Nassau even though wind direction was not optimal. We crossed the tongue of the ocean (has some of the deepest spots in the world) on moderate seas and good wind speed. By early evening we were docked up in Nassau after following some dubious radio instructions. We plan to stay here for a week or so and then head out to the Exumas where we have a rendezvous with Alex and Raffi in two weeks.

Sand flies and dinner

2007-12-20T02:03:00.000-08:00

Double O in full swing Thyra charming the dogs who are after her crispbread
Spending time sewing sails at Fraziers Hog Cay

We left Chub Cay for Fraziers Hog Cay to find an anchorage. We spend a delightful 3 days there before a howling wind of 25 knots kept us prisoner to the boat for 5 days. Before all this wind action, we had had dinner at the beach grilling spare ribs. Well we had dinner and the sand flies (referred to as no-see-ums here) had dinner on us. I think Eva has had a fair share of sand flies, she vows eternal revenge on them. With bad weather and killer bugs, our salvation was the Berry Island Club where we would eat conch and fried chicken to comfort ourselves. The chef was wonderful and he kept outdoing himself everyday catering to a bunch of miserable and wet sailors.
And of course we met Brian, a single handed sailor from North Carolina who sails a 25 feet boat whose dinghy is a big as the boat. He made us a paella of fresh lobster . He was wise enough to leave the anchorage before the winds picked up.

The Crossing

2007-12-20T01:56:00.000-08:00

Lunch & dress up

Eva, resident artist

At Marathon we were joined by Eva whom we had convinced to travel from across the country to us in southern Florida. We sailed towards the eastern Keys so we could make an easy jump to the Bahamas. The waves at the beginning of the journey were enormous but we pressed on. We made it to Rodriguez Key by late afternoon , however the alternator quit on us and we had to have a stop over for a couple of days thus missing the sailing window to cross the Gulf Stream. We were stuck there for 5 days before we could cross the Gulf Stream.
On November 27 we crossed the stream into Bahamas to drop anchor on Gun Cay. Much palaver was experienced with the anchor that was not setting due to a rocky bottom. We then gave up and moved to the bank side of the island where we dropped anchor. We stayed for two days, the first day having been spent searching for the anchor. We had decided to move in the morning a bit up to another area with better holding but our anchor did not come up with the chain as we rolled it in. Mads performed a very smooth man overboard manoeuvre and Eva and him were later able to retrieve the anchor.
We continued after two days across the banks to Chub Cay, a journey of 80 nautical miles which we intended to break up in two. We spent the night on the banks after catching a fish for dinner. Chub Cay was spotted by mid afternoon and we checked into a marina so we could go to customs and check into the Bahamas.

The Mad Aussies, US iron law

2007-12-20T01:47:00.000-08:00

The law enforcers in the US seem more concerned about having whistles on your life jacket than whether you have caught the wrong fish or that our vessel is seaworthy

On leaving Fort Myers we had an appointment with 3 Australians whom we were supposed to meet in Marathon for dinner. Well the Aussies did not make it. The famous trio have purchased a 72 foot wooden power boat from 1954. The age and the sheer size of the boat have brought countless problems on Paul, Robert and Natalie. After purchasing the boat, they thought they would be able to leave within a few days. They were stuck in Blinky Bills for almost three months and as Paul says, the famous Fort Myers triangle will catch you. “You can check out any time you like but you can never leave”. The Aussie trio have also had countless run-ins with the long arm of law and in the States there is a plethora of those arms. It is very hard to avoid an encounter with the various law enforcement agents. No wonder the US boasts the highest number of prisoners per capita. The fact that these lovely people were not American citizens and cared not for that country shown by their willingness to leave its shores at the next most opportune moment did not seem to deter these law enforcers from boarding their boats and checking them every time they left port. They were even stopped in their dinghy and were told to put it on land. As if the Australians wanted to migrate to the US. Perhaps this antagonism has its roots to the embarrassing episode committed by none other than The Decider who at an OPEC conference thanked the miserable Mr Howard for sending his Austrian troops to Iraq. Maybe the Americans feel so ashamed of their president’s folly that they have to be unjustifiably rude to Australians (not that many of its people would be able to point out Down Under in a map) so as not to lose face.

From Florida to the Bahamas

2007-12-20T01:42:00.000-08:00

After catching a crab pod on the Shark River -Marathon leg, Mads was thoroughly exhausted as he had to dive and cut the ropes which had entangled themselves on the propeller. Needless to say after the blasted pod cost us 1 knot in speed and 1,5 hours of sailing time, once on deck we opened it et voila 8 lobsters, not crabs. We released 5 and had 3 lobsters for dinner. It was one of the best dinners I have ever had.
Marathon in the Keys proved to be interesting, a marked difference to Fort Myers. Here were hundreds of sailors coming and going to varied parts of the Gulf and Caribbean.

Sailing babes

2007-11-04T07:23:00.000-08:00

EXHAUSTED HARD WORKING SAILORS. NO, IT IS NOT CHILD LABOUR!

Fika and Thyra taking a well deserved break on deck.

Florida sunset

2007-11-04T07:15:00.000-08:00

They have the smiling dolphins that play with the fish as cat do to mice. They have what is reputedly called, the Fort Myers triangle, i.e. you can check out but you can never leave. They have the flattest areas on this side of the world and if GH (global heating, not grievous harm though the result will be exactly that) kicks in, they will also have to evacuate. And they also have sunsets. Better enjoy it before the fish will be the only ones looking at it.

Axioms, Rules of rules, oh Lord

2007-11-04T06:25:00.000-08:00

Prevailing customs aside, the southern USA is replete with rules, they risk drowning in their mire of values of accepted versus unbecoming behaviour. The pools seem to be the vain forum for these to be blatantly displayed in all manner and colours if possible. Someone pointed out that the nation is so vast and made up of different ethnic groups that only austere, distilled and perspicous rules can hold its peoples together. In the lift of one of the many coastal hotels, a poster in créche yellow announces "PROFANITY BY ADULTS OR TEENAGERS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE". Go figure Charlie! Perhaps I should ask my five year old daughter to utter profanities on my behalf. I wonder if her curses will be unacceptable.

Virtually all swimming pools have something againt horseplay; an expression I had not heard in such a long time that I was hard pressed to remember its meaning. The seems to be a vehemence towards boisterous play, I wonder what sort of play is acceptable.

And the best must be the one about along the lines of asking your doctor before going into the spa if you are under the influence of drugs or consuming alcohol". Mh, Doc can I have something to stiffen my nerves before I go into that jacuzzi?

Life in the simple lane

2007-11-04T06:12:00.000-08:00

Mads & Jørgen

Sometimes life seems to present too many challenges, so it is easier to take the simpler road. I have heard of a fellow who used to have his boat moored in the between the islands of San Carlos and Estero in west Florida and his supposed antics(only to some peoplethough) in trying to achieve simplicity. He used to row his dinghy to his boat and on arriving at the boat would winch it up and perch ít on the deck, sit in it and read his book all day long. So much trouble for a simple activity. Perhaps he liked reading his books in the comfort of his dinghy.

Mads and Jørgen are enjoying the simple things in life too. Perhaps it was too far to climb up the transom stairs to the deck. Maybe the beer tasted better i´n the dinghy.

Ms Green Fingers and Mr Nimble hands

2007-09-26T06:51:00.001-07:00

A dedication is due to a couple we met in Florida. They are called Cindy and David Weinstein. These two lovely people once set off many years ago for a prolonged weekend on the Bahamas only to return 17 years later to the US. I take my hat off! They raised their youngest child during these cruising years throughout the Caribbean. Cindy can make anything grow, I have never seen such an impressive nursery in my life ( I s'ppose when you have been living on a boat for 17 years you kind of miss the wonders of mother earth) and Dave can fix anything that has a motor or cables on. Cindy and Dave are now watching cows come home and are taking care of two horses, one of which needs an anti-bronchital treatment in the form of weed. They have recently bought a space in Zolfo Springs where they are hoping to establish a farm and of course they still keep the boat anchored up river. Their house has been in the process of being built for the past two years and we will not mention the incompetent masons, builders and contractors that for some unfathomable reason cannot seem to finish an easy job. I mean how difficult can it be to build a house. Cindy and Dave have had to put up with all the excuses and not to mention the squabbles between the different contractors about who is supposed to fill in the holes and cracks. That is why I think one should really be good friends with a handy man- you always need someone to complete a job some idiot left undone in your house. Oh additionally, a dentist(my south african one survived the Tsunami in Thailand), an advocate (we do not have one in any country), an IT geek (we know a very nice one in Denmark with a cool homepage, google crawfurd), and a financial investor/economist (I know a very beautiful one in South Africa) are some of the people one should add to a list of to-know-people. Dave is the first one-man-do-it-all I know, and Cindy is definitely the first one I know who has a nursery.

Ms Green Fingers and Mr Nimble hands

2007-09-26T06:51:00.000-07:00

Cabbage Key, Manatees

2007-09-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

At the water tower that survived Hurricane Charly

A manatee at the harbour

We set anchor outside of Ussepa Island, a private island adorned with dull grey but rather expensive houses. We were not really interested in this island anyway, our eyes were keen on the island across called Cabbage Key. Mind you it is neither part of the famous keys on the tip of Florida nor will you find any cabbages in copius amounts. The word 'key' is apparently an english corruption of 'Cayo' from Spanish. Cabbage Key is also privately owned, it was bought in the 1920's for 2500 dollars! However it is a charming little island with a restaurant and holiday cottages and has resident hole digging tortoises, not quite the Seychelles or Galapagos size but big enough. Not to mention the oddity of tortoises that dig- I have never heard of that phenomenon before.

The bar leaves one salivating, not for its stock but for the 1 dollar bills pasted on the walls and ceilings. The room probably has about 4000 dollars worth of these authentic bills. It is tradition for patrons to leave signed dollar notes to mark their time at the island but how could they tempt a poor soul like me. I was already thinking how to stage a robbery, island style. Afika was quite excited as well and did not understand the reason for abandoning money on walls.

We were very lucky that day- we spotted a large Manatee. It is a large animal that resembles a seal but is much lazier. I did not even know what it was until I came to Florida. They are found all over here and in the Caribbean and in the Indian Ocean though I understand they go by another name there.

First sail, barnacles

2007-09-23T06:09:00.000-07:00

We made first sail on Sunday the 9th, leaving the harbour of Punta Gorda for the southern part of Florida. As we were removing the last ropes from the pier, Afika suddenly felt very generous and gave the assistant harbour master, Randy (yes, that is his real name), one of her elaborate colourful drawings. As Mads was commanding the vessel steering her out of the slip, he noticed that she was rather slow on the uptake. After about a minute, as we are turning to face the exit of the harbour, I see a very worried Mads, who loudly exclaims that the engine is not responding as it should be. He revs the engine but no response and Double O is moving but rather sluggishly through the harbour waters. As we exit and head for the markers for the outer channel (one has to keep her wits about in these waters, there is hardly any water under the keel, therefore some hard concentration is required to stay on the channels with sufficient water), Mads suddenly shouts that I have to get ready to put the sails up as we do not have enough speed to steer Double O. In the middle of the channel, there we are unfurling the genoa/headsail and the main! Lo, people must have thought we are really cool. If only they knew that the boat had no power. We made it into the channel though a tortoise would have been faster than us. As soon as we had manouevering room, Mads promptly took the chisel and jumped into the water. His immediate suspicion that the propellers were covered in barnacles (bastard creatures that attach themselves fast on anything on water) was rather accurate. With snorkel and chisel, he started working on removing them- not an easy job without diving gear. After an hour of diving, scraping, going up for breath, he managed to scrub a thick layer of barnacles off. The engine responded accordingly after this cleaning venture of the props. Mads was once more a content captain. We had speed and since there was no wind to speak of, we could make way without dragging a whole colony of shell fish.

After a couple of hours of sailing, as dusk was setting in, we decided to set anchor in Charlotte Bay. The wind picked up at night making us a bit worried that we would drag during the night. To our relief we were still at the same spot at dawn. The journey continued south in the tricky waters of the Intracoastal- somewhat sheltered waters between mainland and the islands from the southern USA all the way up to Maine. Doing the Intracoastal means you don't have to worry about the wind in the Gulf and the Atlantic ocean but it also means you have to use your engine a lot more than your sails as some of the stretches are very narrow not leaving much room for movement. The second anchor was planned for Cabbage Key

Chilling in the US of A

2007-08-23T10:26:00.000-07:00

The land of tennis playing grannies and chlorine infested swimming pools. Bet they did not tell you that is what Florida is about. And I must admit, Mads never explicitly explained how hot it really is. Not only do I have to put up with converting everything to a unit I understand, spending days trying to figure out how much 92 F is in Celsius degrees, I also have to think of gallons, ounces and so on. The children have figured out that the best time is to be had at the swimming pool which is respectfully kept permanentlybelow 105. But the air is heavier than Kinshasa air with all its pollutants. I am told by my worldly husband that Florida's humidity is comparable to Mombasa's.

We cannot even work outside on the deck without shedding 20 litres of bodíly water. But I am definitely not complaining about the heat though, I would rather have that than the cold.

Gitte, the elephant, makes it through customs

2007-08-21T02:56:00.000-07:00

Fika and the wannabe ballerina elephant, Gitte.

Thyra bearing the tiara

After celebrating Fika's birthday and saying our farewells to many friends in Copenhagen and other parts of the world, we had one day to pack and do a spring clean of our apartment before finally getting on a suspect airline from Germany to Florida. Needless to mention, we went very late to bed, something I always promise myself to avoid every time we have to pack. Somehow alludes me- the notion of being prepared in good time.
Kristian, Mads' brother drove us and our 120kg luggage to the airport. The plane was stuck on the runway for sometime due to an ineffective tap which meant that coffee could not be served to the chalgrin of the captain who was afraid of dealing with caffeine deprived Scandinavians. I do not blame him, for people in this part of the world are the biggest consumers of coffee and I certainly would not want to come between a Northerner and her/his coffee. This delay was not much welcome by us since we did not have that much time to catch our connection. We were of course late and were puffing through the corridors of the Dusseldorf airport trying to find the check in desk. As it was a charter company, we could not get our boarding passes in CPH. Once at the counter, 15 minutes before departure, they took their sweet time fixing our passes and talking with each other, how they could not fínd a seat for us (Mads who is fluent in German did not let on, he just kept smiling as if nothing at all was wrong). We were referred to as LMC- i.e. Last Minute Change over the radio. It turned out a family had a sick child and after they disembarked, we got their seats. One person's poison is another's meat, I couldn't help thinking that way.

The plane was without doubt full of Germans going to get their annual fix of the sun, from the babe with electric black extensions to the granny who wants to improve her back hand at the numerous tennis courts of Florida.
On arrival at Fort Myers, a small provincial sleepy airport, clearing through customs and immigration proved to be more challenging than taking a 12 hour flight across the Atlantic. The system broke down and more waiting had to be done. But that was not even what surprised me. The immigration officials were wearing guns! And next to the counters a poster for the department featuring a good looking black woman reads "we are the face of the USA". We got through without any glitches. Then the luggage onwards to the customs where we had to declare our 5 bags of rye flour. As they were not sure what rye flour flour was, we had to go through a customs check which feels more thorough than a body check. It turned out we did not have to worry, the main concern was meat products. A German couple next to us were told off for carrying dried Knorr soup which contained meat extracts. The customs did not only put the fear of God into them, they also sternly informed that should they be caught with the same problem next time, they will be duly fined 300 USD for the troubles of bringing soup across the seas. Good for the customs, I mean who in the world brings dried soup on a 10 hour flight! I understand if one brought biltong (South African dried meat) or cheese (if one is European), but soup, honestly!

With all the hullabaloo about dried soups and rye flour, Gitte, the fat transvetite elephant made it into US territory without a blink. Her ballet toutou, bowtie at the left side of the head, her purple shoes and pink tiara did not make anyone at customs bat an eyelid. Afika received Gitte as a birthday gift from Eva at Tivoli (Denmark's own very ancient fairground) and let it be pointed out that it Fika who chose her not Eva. Apparently, children could, at a cute shop at Tivoli, chose an animal of their liking and get it stuffed in front of their very own eyes. How lovely.

Gitte with her owner has safely crossed the lines and now finds her superior self in a marina n western Florida in a small town called Punta Gorda.

The nice Americans in Denmark

2007-08-01T04:18:00.000-07:00

I was flabbergasted! Could they really be this nice or are they putting on a show for me. One assumes all sorts of thigs about Americans; they are almost mythical creatures. At the embassy, applying for a visa was easy enough after getting through the stone-faced security men. The gentleman at the counter was very pleasant and quickly assured me that since I seem to have the right traits deserving to be awarded a visa, I should not be worried for one will be promptly issued to me. Yupee! God's country, here I come.

Mads says it is not only the Americans in Denmark who are pleasant but generally he found the people 'over there' very aggreable.

A visit from Alex and Waffi

2007-07-22T10:05:00.000-07:00

As it is, we are nowhere close to being ready to go to Florida but that is hardly suprising as we are the 11th hour people. I will not bore you with details of what needs to be done but it is suffice to say, it is so mundane it breaks your heart.

After a wonderful weekend with lots of sunshine and rain (true to a danish summer) Alexandra and Raffi have just left for Paris. We tried to show them the different interesting sites of wonderful Copenhagen and we exhausted their feet on a day long walk around town. Au revoir!

New Blog and new message

2007-07-22T06:18:00.000-07:00

Now we have this thing going with another server. Let's see if it works.

There's Mads trying to be a serious skipper inspecting the sails.