Windhorse Sailing

The day after the game Gigi, Kelly, and I did some quick sightseeing, including a trip to the tomb of Evita Peron. It sounds morbid, I guess, but the cemetery in the Recoletta section of town is truly a sight to see. Behind the walls are family mausoleums dating back to before the turn of the century when Argentina, because of its silver, was the richest country on earth. The tombs are more than monuments, they are small castles and the slogan at the entrance to the cemetery translates roughly to “you’ll only get in alive.”

By 1pm we were on a bus to Mar Del Plata. The trip is a 4-hour drive with no stops. I think Gigi and Kelly would agree it was a comfortable ride. Most people in Argentina travel by bus on a small, but well paved highway system. We enjoyed large cushioned recliners in the front row of a double decker bus. The trip was directly east to the Atlantic coast during which we passed vast grasslands and Argentine Estancias, five star ranches. On the rich Pampa grasslands we could see the huge cattle that had fed us so well at Las Lilas Restaurant. By nightfall we reached the industrial port town of Mar Del Plata.

In addition to its industrial base, Mar Del Plata has some big waves and beaches that attract a large summer crowd. However, as I have said before, we were a bit ahead of their summer season. This posed no problem to us as restaurants near the Yacht club were open and we enjoyed a great seafood dinner. Gigi ordered herself a bottle of wine instead of a glass which made dinner even better. I really should have been more helpful as a translator, but as it was Kelly and I helped her with the bottle and ended up ordering another, and maybe another.

The next day we planned to set sail 250 miles north to Punta Del Este, Uruguay. I figured it would take 2-3 days and the weather forecast looked like it would cooperate. We hit the grocery store for “provisions,” and then we headed to the Prefectura to check out. The latter chore was important because I had to add the girls to the crew list in order for them to officially exit Argentina and enter Uruguay. I warned the girls ahead of time of the Argentine inefficiencies in this regard and it played out just as I suspected. We showed up at the office and explained the situation and were sent to immigration and customs who both sent us back saying we had to see the Prefectura first. At this point, the man who could help us was busy taking his wife to the hospital so we were instructed to return at 1pm. When we returned, he man apologized for the inconvenience and stamped our passports and new crew list – no computer, no photocopies, no questions. Homeland security, well, it seems you are on your own. At least when we findally did enter Uruguay we would have the proper stamps in our passports, not that they bothered to check anyway.

It was time to set sail. The wind was blowing hard. It was easy to depart the dock as the wind blew us off, but as I reversed out and tried to bring the bow around the wind held me off. I compensated by gunning her in forward to stop my backward motion. Then I gunned her in reverse to stop my forward motion. It was an ugly departure with a couple near misses of other boats. I am grateful that Mar Del Plata was a lucky dock for me. So many near misses, both coming and going, but no damage. Although, unlike my arrival here, my exit had many witnesses.

I had prepared the girls for our departure, but not for this debacle. I had asked Kelly to tend the bow to “fend off” other boats, and to be honest, between the engine and the wind I almost crushed her on a pylon. To her credit in her grand attempts to protect Shangri-La led she suffered a bruise on her arm that earned her free drinks the rest of the trip. To Gigi’s credit, during all this activity, she remained calm. I finally gave up the turn and reversed out of the marina entrance like a fool, and finally made my 3-point turn away from all other vessels.

We were finally in the main waters of the port and ready to put up some sail. I went to first reef on the main and put out a small amount of headsail. The wind was blowing 25 knots from the southwest. It was 4:30pm when we exited the port into choppy waters. It was a rough start for the girls. I had promised an easy sail and nice weather too, though by nightfall we were bundled up in the foul weather gear I had bought for Cape Horn.
Despite the cold, the sky was clear and the stars that night were spectacular. Nice weather is a relative thing.

Things didn’t smooth out just yet. I had left the engine light on when I went to Buenos Aires to meet them. The result was a battery bank almost completely depleted so I allowed only one light on board. I also decided to turn off the radio to save power and because in all my time on this coast no one had ever radioed me. Of course, this first night a small fishing vessel tried to radio and with no response approached to offer help. They shined their spotlight right into our cockpit scaring me to death. I waved them off and thanked them for their concern and then immediately turned the radio back on. At this point, Gigi asked seriously about pirates. It seemed I wasn’t instilling any confidence in my novice crew.

The girls charting.

The chop continued through the night and by morning Gigi was able to admit that she was, for the first time in her life, seasick. Kelly seemed fine, but nervous about the requirements for the rest of the journey. I assured the girls I would handle everything. In the mean time I would teach them anything they wanted to know. The worst was over and things smoothed out considerably by the second day.

Cold…but sunny!

I made some grilled cheeses and we had some wine and played some games. All the while the wind vane steered us perfectly in a light 10-knot wind. The rest of the trip would be calm and uneventful, but still a bit cold. I showed the girls how to keep a ship’s log and a little charting, but mostly we were able to relax.

On the third night, or 51 hours after setting out we arrived in Punta Del Este Uruguay, yet another summer town just out of season. It seems my whole trip has been out of season. We came ashore and enjoyed a fresh fish dinner and some wine.

My sister and my cousin were glad to see land. They were glad to have survived their adventure and now they could truly relax. I, however, was starting to dread their departure. I loved having them with me and I started to feel homesick at the talk of their return trip home.

My next leg of the journey would be a solo sail to Florianopolis, Brazil. It promised to be a beat into a northerly wind and current, but most daunting was that it would be alone. I have faced all the challenges and loved them, but I felt done at this point. Everything from this point on would seem like a chore.

Friday was a beautiful sunny day. I tagged along as the girls indulged in some shopping and we all enjoyed a meal and some drinks in the sun beside a white sand beach, despite the slight chill in the air. I drank up their company and told them how much I dreaded the trip north. They threw me some encouraging words until I showed a winning attitude toward my ensuing trip.

On Saturday we had a quick, but tearful goodbye. They were excited about the adventure completed and I was energized to continue north, more determined now than ever to get home. It was an honor to have my sister and my cousin come to see firsthand what I have been up to this last year. I am privileged to have included them in my journey.