s/v Milly: Buenos Aires, Argentina to Chaguaramas, Trinidad

We had a wonderful time visiting “home” and catching up with family and friends. Many asked questions that have made us thoughtfully reflect on our first season abroad, almost three months living in Buenos Aires and then eight months on Milly. Of course, as with all good answers to great questions, they don’t occur spontaneously but were tossed about late at night when sleep evades or as a topic of conversation over dinner and a glass of wine in Trinidad upon our return to Milly. Nothing like rehashing a season before we start a new one.

Because this is a blog, questions will be answered in point form with a new picture when possible. I find it painful to skip the stories and limit the list to so few. Perhaps, one day, we will write a chapter or two. But, unbelievably, when we are cruising, there isn't enough time!

What surprised us?

The stunning beauty of the Brazilian coast

never a dull moment during those long passages.
daily rainbows, after every squall

Cars left to rot at the side of the road in residential Buenos Aires

dealing in the “Blue Market” to change American to Pesos in Argentina - felt clandestine but is a nonevent for the residents, a matter of survival
the amount of plastic water bottles in the sea - very sad
the lack of North American cruisers in Brazil - not one! And only a handful of Europeans.
the heat and humidity. It’s wiltingly hot! In Trinidad especially.

Were we ever scared? This is commonly the first question. Usually people who ask are thinking of the weather we encountered, imagining fierce storms and huge waves. I readily admit to being a bit - no, quite a bit - wide-eyed and nervous at the end of our passage to Santa Catarina ( A Shake Up Cruise). I won’t repeat the ewww and ahhh I felt that final night again but, yes, I was scared/nervous for some minutes until I realized Milly could handle the waves the ocean was hurling our way and that Peter, enjoying the tumult, was an incredibly able captain.

Peter was never unnerved by weather or anything to do with sailing. He loved every minute of it - calm, waves, upwind, downwind. However, he also had his nervous moments. One was while anchored in the very small Maracas Bay on Isla Grande, Brazil. The bay was beautiful, surrounded by steep, rocky shores which rose to high mountains on the island side. The exit/entrance was one small cut through rocky shores. Although the anchor felt solid, the wind rose to such intensity on a pitch black night that he sat at the helm for what seemed like a few hours. The next day when we weighed anchor, we pulled up mud, a couple of plastic bags and a few pieces of metal. The anchor had done just as it should and dug in deeper.

Peter’s second nervous night - why does all the scary stuff happen at night when it’s that much scarier? - was in Galeao, a small, secluded and impoverished town well away from any sail traffic. We anchored with local fishing boats. The town was in the full swing of celebrating some festival or another - there is no shortage of parties in Brazil. Somehow in our isolation, we felt guiltily like an ostentatious super yacht. And when we went ashore, we were sensitive to a lack of welcoming smiles. Peter was vigilant that night and we left the next morning.

Were there any bad moments? Really very few and mostly momentary

missing my kids. I was very grateful for our communication systems when they worked. But when they didn’t…I was not a happy mum.
Peter hanging off the bow in rough seas in the middle of the night to fix the furler
electrical problems that prevented the batteries from charging properly for a couple of weeks. The fix was easy, once figured out.
until the drugs started working, seasickness was never fun
a ship making a last minute turn directly at us on a dark night, oblivious to the little boat in it’s way
not being able to figure out which way Brazilian fishing boats were headed because their lights did not follow any of the conventions. Instead, they were decorated like flashing Christmas trees.
me releasing the screecher halyard instead of the main. Luckily, I realized quickly and it didn’t come down too far. But I was in the doghouse for a short time.

What were the highlights? Really too many to list - every day held several:

Splashing Milly - January, 2015

The wild beaches of the Uruguayan South Atlantic coast

sailing in the company of dolphins at the bow
looking over the gunnel to see a school of rays just below the surface, gliding in formation
the moon and stars above and bioluminescence below on night watch
Dropping anchor after a long passage
The long passages
Shopping in farmers' markets
The culinary adventure and fast sensations of trying new-to-us fruit and veg
the political intensity of Argentina, from bombing to cover-up to murder to more cover-up and the daily protests of thousands who are engaged in the politics
the many wonderful South American characters we had the pleasure to meet
dining on the beach with chefs dressed in shorts - only
the French Guyanese military shorts worn by seriously macho soldiers as described by John Gimlett in The Wild Coast. “These (the shorts) were always half a dozen sizes too small, making them look magnificently gay, as though Village People had taken over the bush.” Completely accurate description! And, no, I don't have a picture. We were trying to be respectful.
Fernando de Noronja
Introducing our son to Milly
hanging out with other cruisers for the first time in French Guyana