Thomas takes the dinghy to give our Cans to the lady in
the cabin onshore (They can get money for recycling them)
this has a double advantage of reducing the garbage we
have to carry and helping them out in the cash department.
Rubbish
out
Rubbish in
We up anchor and Thomas catches us up in the dinghy as we
set a northerly course for Ilha da Gipoia.
After the nights rain it’s a lovely sunny day with high
whispy clouds over the sea, although low clouds obscure the mountain
tops.
The sea is like glass as we cut through the reflected sky
past a myriad of smaller islands with their coverings
of coconut palms and other trees of the rain
forest.
We anchor in a secluded bay (Praia Dentista) of white
sands and palm trees complete with floating bar. Snorkelling
gear
on and it’s off to explore the shoreline which doesn’t
disappoint with its mix of coral and seaweed teaming with fish life.
The now inevitable schools of sergeant majors, beautiful
black Butterfly fish with iridescent yellow stripes, parrot
fish,
yellow tail and cuttlefish, which when chased turn bright
pink.
We’ve lost Thomas, so having swum around the bay Lars and
I find ourselves at the floating bar.
I don’t know whose more pleased, us or “mine host” and he
rushes forward to help take care of our masks,
fins and snorkels. I explain in my fluent gesticulations
that we have no money with us but will return later with some from the
boat.
“Not a problem” I translate, the Umbrella is raised at
our table and two crispy chilled golden nectars appear.
We look for Thomas and sight him on the beach and signal,
but realise our effort are in vain as without his glasses he’s as blind as a
bat.
“Mine host” not wishing to loose his best and only
customers produces and pours another beer before we can stop
him,
downing this we get our gear on and swim back to the boat
to find Thomas aboard.
We return to the Bar “en masse”, a beer, and battered
squid rings, followed by Caprihinas (Plus a freebie for best
customers).
As we lounge, the sky darkens and the impending rainstorm
advances somewhat more rapidly than we had anticipated.
Quickly settling our bill we race back to rescue my now
dry bedding.
In the haste to get aboard Lars jerks on the Dinghies
painter and from standing I assume a graceful arc falling
backward into the water, much to the amusement of
all.
Scrambling aboard we hastily get my stuff below as the
storm strikes, with considerable ferocity.
Upping anchor we head off into the downpour and with
winds now of hurricane proportions, seeking a more sheltered
anchorage.
Diving masks are the order of the day as visibility is so
impaired by the driving rain. We manage to get a headsail
up and are doing 8 knots screaming along on the squall.
Swinging in behind a headland we drop anchor in the deluge,
fortunately the rain is relatively warm as we are all
running round in bathers, the only suitable dress for this
occasion,
though I wouldn’t recommend it in the North
Sea
Its time for a late lunch, Sausage, onions and boiled
potatoes, with a nice red of course, while the rain batters down on the deck
head.
I write the Blog, Lars adopts the horizontal, and Thomas
retreats to his bunk and computer and the rain just increases
with the intensity of a thousand frustrated firemen and
their hoses!
Thomas stirs and starts cooking dinner, a Brasilian
version of Cumberland Sausage with potatoes and friend onions and very tasty
too.
As the rain continues its time to introduce Thomas to the
wonders of the“Mexican Train” game. Lars starts winning
(as usual) and there is some debate regarding the rules
which reaches its climax when he demands we call Shan until
I pointed out the hour of the day and the sort of
response he would probably get if we woke her at 2 in the
morning!
We call a halt with 4 games to Lars 1 to Thomas and 1 for
me as tiredness and the requisite alcohol consumption take
their toll. As the rain has fades away and the stars come
out to play we await to see what the morrow may bring.
Bob the Blog
