Crossing the Pond - Part 1

Since I wrote about crossing the Gulf of Mexico in three parts I figured I owed at least that much to crossing the Atlantic Ocean.  So, here is the first of three.  Hopefully I can have them done in less time than it took me to actually make the crossing.

I knew I wasn't going to find a boat to cross the Atlantic in Colombia and needed to evaluate my options to conquer this next leg of my trip.  I was going to have to fly somewhere but where to was the question.  I wasn’t even exactly sure where most boaters start a west to east crossing from or even if there was such a collective.  As you have probably noticed by now my planning and research during this trip has been minimal at best but that was my plan.  I did gather enough info to know that the latest boaters leave is early-July to steer well clear of the beginning of hurricane season.  It was already mid-April so I needed to find a boat rather soon.

As fate’s story unravels in the present let’s take a look to the past before we try to figure out the future.  Exactly 40 years ago this last April, two 20-something year olds decided to get hitched and a few loving years after that, this same couple became known as my parents.  Now back in the present my dad thought it would be a nice idea to fly me home to surprise my mom as an anniversary gift.  The World Wide Web looks the same in Texas as it does in Columbia so searching online for a boat wouldn’t be any more difficult and getting to be with my parents and celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary sounded great.  Having home cooked meals and a nice comfortable bed before spending a month at sea was quite enticing also.

Crazy kids

Crazy kid

Once the partying was over and my mom had recovered from her shock, I had to get down to business and find a boat.  As it turns out, what seems obvious now, is that most boats depart from the northeastern most island of the Caribbean chain, which is St Martin.  There is a website I have used before to match crew to boat and there was no shortage of skippers looking for crew to help in their crossing.  Now with my previous years sailing experience in open waters I knew the minimums for a boat I wanted to feel comfortable and safe in for a crossing of this duration.

After getting in touch with a few captains and seeing their boats (online), one stood out as just what I was looking for.  A 54 ft Hallberg Rassy named New Dawn, owned and skippered by a distinguished European gentleman named Paul Donnerup who had plenty of experience and multiple crossings under his belt already.  He was wrapping up his time in the Caribbean and taking his boat back to his home in southern France.  A beautifully maintained fast mono-hull with all the amenities we could want to make the trip as comfortable and safe as could be expected on the open ocean.

Paul Donnerup:  Master & Commander of
Sailing Vessel New Dawn

Now one would think flying from Texas to St Martin wouldn’t be too difficult but trying to find both a semi-direct and cheap flight proved taxing even for a seasoned traveler as myself.  Turns out it is cheaper to fly via Canada, specifically Toronto, and then fly down to St Martin than it is to fly from Houston.  Also, Crystal was still in Toronto and that may have persuaded my decision a bit.  It was great to meet up sooner than expected and have a personal tour of Toronto and the surrounding countryside.  Although the few days I was there flew by, it was better than nothing.  On our way to the Buffalo Airport, Crystal kept singing her favorite Boyz II Men song, "It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday", and even though it was a horribly rainy and cold day, we still swung by Niagara Falls before crossing the border so I could check it out.  I was glad I had my foul weather gear I use for sailing easily accessible as it came in mighty handy, but we made the most of it and did what anyone would do when it is raining at one of the wonders of the world.  Head indoors and play glow-in-the-dark putt putt.

Maybe airlines know something I don't but Houston looks much closer to St Martin than Toronto to me.

The iconic CN Tower stands tall over the Toronto city-scape.

Not sure who was wetter:  The tourists on the boat beneath the falls or those up top in the rain.

There's a giant waterfall somewhere down there.

Staying close for warmth.

When life gives you lemons, paint the walls neon yellow.

An old work colleague joins in.

So we said our goodbyes once more and I left for St Martin on May 7th.  Paul met me at the airport and after introductions and getting settled into the boat, he informed me of the good news that we had two more joining us for the voyage.  I had double-handed across the Gulf of Mexico and could tough that out for the 5 days it took to cross but wasn’t looking forward to a month’s long crossing with just the two of us on board.  Paul had come across these two young lads, Filip and William, on the internet as well although their initial correspondence with Paul was a bit different from mine which I’ll get to in a minute.  They were currently in Florida selling the small bought they had bought the previous year with three other friends after graduating high school and sailing around the Bahamas in the interim.  Now they were looking to get back across the pond in a slightly larger, more capable boat and begin university in the fall.  Obviously a bit green in years but their time in the Bahamas had served them well and they both proved quite capable.

As they will both be looking for career opportunities in the near future they wanted me to include a short bio on each of them in case a potential employer is interested.  Just remember, no matter what William tells you, he isn't a good cook.

Filip Peters

From:  Sweden

Date of Birth:  February 12, 1992

Degree:  Bid-nass

Hobbies & Interests:  Hopes to one day be a business mogul or gangsta rapper.  Enjoys drinking second cheapest wines.  His life goal is to build the third largest reef system off the coast of Florida using only rocks from Swedish waters.  He likes to come across as a douche-bag at first so we had that in common.  





William Hallstrom

From:  Sweden

Date of Birth:  January 27, 1992

Degree:  Undecided

Hobbies & Interests:  William enjoys playing horse polo not for the sport but because it allows him to wear Ralph Lauren shirts with the biggest possible Polo emblem on them.  He is under the impression that this is what really attracts the ladies.  We didn’t inform him otherwise.  Aside from his university degree he is also consistently undecided on rather to keep growing his hair long or cut it short.  He is still unclear on which the ladies prefer. 

Now, as to their first introduction, Filip came across Paul’s profile on a sailing website just as I had but that is where the similarities ended.  Filip, upon seeing from Paul’s profile that he was originally from Denmark, wrote his initial correspondence in Swedish since most Danes are fluent.  Paul’s Swedish isn’t what it used to be since he hasn’t lived in Denmark for many a year so he used Google translator just to make sure he understood everything correctly.  One line caught his particular attention when it mentioned that Filip and William were “two young gay men.”  Paul appreciated their frankness and had no qualms about their lifestyle but when you are about to spend a month on a small boat crossing the ocean with complete strangers you certainly want to make sure personalities are suitable.  So, he responded in English and included the Google translated version of Filip’s e-mail saying that they sounded like upstanding youth and was fine with them being gay but had a few more questions for them to make sure there weren’t any conflicts of interest.  Filip, after reading Paul’s reply and the translation, quickly responded that there had been a mistake and the word Google translated to mean “gay” really means “fun”.   At least that is what Filip told us.  We also found out that according to Google, Swedish people are notorious liars.  In the end all was well and the day after I arrived Paul picked up Filip and William from the airport and we welcomed them aboard New Dawn. 

A bit of history about the island, St Martin/St Maarten is comprised of a Dutch and French side.  In 1648 the Dutch and the French agreed to divide the island equally by choosing one man representing each country to walk from opposite ends of the island and where they met in the middle is where the island would be divided.  Somehow the French ended up with 60% of the island while the Dutch were left with the remaining 40%.  The Dutch accuse the French representative of running to gain more ground while the French say the Dutch representative drank too much Jenever (Dutch Gin) and passed out en-route.  In any case, there is no physical border separating the two sides and the differences between them are pretty much invisible to tourists although the French side claims, as one would imagine, to have better cuisine. 

BBQ restaurants line the beach on the French side.
Reminded more of The Houston Rodeo BBQ Cook-Off than the Champs Elysees.

With the crew all on board, Paul was hoping to leave in just two or three days which didn’t leave us too much time for sightseeing as we still had to provision the boat and take care of a few last minute items before setting to sea.

3-plus cart fulls of groceries.

3-plus dinghy trips to get it all onboard.

Even though our time was limited on the island,  I wasn’t too bothered by missing out on the pristine beaches St. Martin is known for since I had my fair share during the last year.  However, we did get a chance to stop in at the main tourist attraction that makes St Martin stand out from the other beautiful islands in the Caribbean.  This attraction is the international airport with the end of its runway just at the edge of a public beach.  Crowds gather at the bars on either side of the beach paying attention to the schedule of flights departing and arriving posted around the bar.  Not that you can miss a 747 coming in on final just above what seems like arm’s reach over your head but most revelers want to be in position on the beach to try and hold their ground as the jumbo jet engines throttle up for take off usually making a yard sale out of anything that isn’t fastened down.

No caption needed.

Not a 747 but still close enough to get your attention.

While sitting at one of these bars on our last evening, having a few relaxing drinks, watching planes land and take off, I was Skyping with my parents and the conversation I had with my mom went something like this:

Me:  So the plan is to leave St. Martin tomorrow and this evening we are relaxing at this bar on the beach where you can watch the planes land and takeoff at the waters edge.

Mom:  I saw a place like that on TV once where that happens to people on some island in the Caribbean.  That would be a neat place for you to go to.  I bet it is neat.

Me:  Yes mom.  It is very neat.  I speak from experience.  That is here where I am right now.  I am at that place.

Mom:  Oh.

(This transcript was sanctioned and approved for public use by Patricia Lynn Berger, my mom.)

Well, with the boat fully provisioned and in tip-top shape, the only thing left to do was to sail her across the Atlantic Ocean.  That was our last evening on solid ground and we enjoyed a few plump delicious hamburgers, a few beers, and the steadiness of the seats.  A simple luxury we wouldn’t have for the upcoming weeks.  As the multitude of sailboats in the protected harbor thinned out each day departing on their own crossing, our day of departure was up next.

JB

One last majestic sunset from terra firma before setting sail.

Colombiana

As we flew over the same parts of Panama we had just a day before been agonizing about how we were going to get out of, Crystal and I knew we had made the right decision.  Instead of being baked on the open deck of a shoddy cargo boat as it bounced along the guerrilla infested coastline between Panama and Colombia for who knows how many days, we were enjoying the free peanuts and ginger ale in a comfortably climate controlled atmosphere.  We were headed to Taganga, a beach town fairly close to Cartagena in the north of Columbia to meet my buddy Calvin or Chino Mamino as some call him or maybe it's just me.  There were no direct flights to Taganga from Panama as most flights in and out of the country are routed through Bogota.  Although this did make for a longer travel day it had the added benefit of one of us being able to get a bikini wax at the Bogota International Airport during our layover.  

Our arrival in Taganga coincided with Holy Week and Colombians flock to this normally tranquil town to celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ by partying all week on the beach in skimpy bikinis.  We met up with Chino who was already enjoying the local customs, not by wearing a bikini but by appreciating them, and had no choice but to join in ourselves.  With the festivities moving from the beach to the bars as the sun set and then going late into the night, Chino and I  were searching for motivation to get up and go diving the next day.  We weren't expecting much from what we had seen but this was supposedly the best dive site in Colombia and with both of us being avid divers we had to at least give it a shot.  We stayed pretty close to each other during the dives as bubbles leaked out of our rented gear while we placed bets on who would have equipment failure first.  Not sure if peeing in your wetsuit counts as equipment failure but with that much beer from the night before, it couldn't be helped.  The dives actually turned out to be better than expected with both of us seeing a few aquatic life firsts.

Overlooking the revelers on the beach in Taganga.

Not a bad spot for our surface interval between dives.

Finally, the evasive and invasive lion fish.

Staying hydrated with the local bag o'water.

The brightly hued Colombian flag waves proud.

Once we had our fill of Taganga we made the short bus trip west to Cartagena.  To me Cartagena is one of those nostalgic cities of lore, like Constantinople (now Istanbul) or Casablanca.  Not that they have to start with a 'C' but the mere mentioning of their names immediately takes your mind to a land filled with with adventure, romance, daring, and sometimes drug runners.  The blame for Cartagena's allure cannot fully be placed on the shoulders of Kurt Douglas and Kathleen Turner when they filmed "Romancing the Stone" or on Gabriel Garcia Marquez for writing "Love in the Time of Cholera".  The city and it's location have captured the minds of many dating back to the Colonial era when it was one of the most valued ports to control and Spain spent the equivalent of 2 trillion dollars to fortify the city.  Although there is much more to the city now, the main attraction is still entering the old town through one of the few gated archways placed in the thick defensive wall that surounds it and meandering aimlessly through the streets taking in all the sites it has to offer from horse drawn carriages to modern night clubs.

Street cheese - a welcoming substitute for street meat.

Street sweets.

Night life in full swing.

The night life begins.

Aside from all the mainstay attractions and throngs of mostly local tourists, the city was also preparing for the upcoming G8 summit which was just a week away.  There was a constant running day and night of  drills with guards in full riot gear filling the streets while helicopters swooped low overhead.  We took pictures of the US Secret Service "preparing" for the event as well and I tried posting those to this blog but for some reason they were blocked.  I also think I am being followed now.

After a few fun days in Cartagena, Chino's vacation time was up and Crystal and I needed to plan the rest of our Colombian escapade.  Colombia is about the same square area as Texas and Oklahoma combined so it can take a while to get from point A to B.  We had about a week left in Colombia before she had to fly back to Canada to get things together for her 'Doctors without Borders' leave in Africa so instead of racing around the entire country spending most of our time on a bus, we decided to take it easy and enjoy what we could on the 2 day bus trip back to Bogota.

Nestled in the mountains halfway between Cartagena and Bogota lies the acclaimed adventure capital of Colombia, San Gil.  This sounded like the perfect spot to break up the bus ride and stay for a few days to see what trouble we could get into.  San Gil has a monumental list of thrill seeking activities to offer:  rafting, caving, sky-diving, rappelling, mountain biking, para-gliding, and ant eating.  We chose the last two.

Soaring high in the clouds.

The only instructions for take off are run, run, run!

Running off a perfectly solid 10,000 ft mountain with a small Colombian strapped to your back and a thin piece of synthetic material overhead connected by a handful of cords holding you in the sky may not appeal to some as relaxing but it was one of the most tranquil and beautiful things I have ever done.  At times we were at a stand still balanced perfectly in a headwind before we found a thermal updraft to climb higher and higher above the mountain peaks until we gently soared down.  Although everyone paid the same price, the flights lasted from 30 minutes to 1.5 hours depending on how attractive you were.  Crystal got the 1.5 hour ride while mine was 45 minutes.  Not sure what that means but the only pain I had in my backside was when my pilot gently landed me in a patch of stickers.

Hormigas Culonas or 'ants with a giant ass' are a local delicacy and everyone is pushed to try at least a handful when visiting the area.  After para-gliding, eating ants didn't seem like too much of a risk so both Crystal and I had our fare share.  Tasting like salty peanut shells, we both agreed  they were better than the hissing cockroaches in Thailand but not as good as the crickets in Cambodia.

San Gil and the surrounding area is not just for thrill seekers.  Old colonial towns with cobble stone streets lined with terra cotta roofed houses dot the area, the most visited being Barichara.  Being well above sea level on the slopped terrain, the cool crisp air made daily strolls amongst the white washed walls a must, stopping to take a picture, grab some food, talk to a goat, or pet a kid.

Barichara photo op.

A handful of Hormigas Culonas or 'big ass ants'.

With just a few days left we still wanted some time to explore Bogota so we said goodbye to San Gil and hopped back on the bus one last time.  Bogota is vast and highly populated with close to 8 million people living in the city.  It is one of the highest capitals in South America which also means it is cold and rains a lot.  Unfortunately for us we weren't too prepared for this type of weather mostly because we had been living on a boat with no shoes for the past few months.  This allowed us the opportunity to really dig deep in our packs and come up with some unique and improvised clothing options to try and stay warm and dry.

They just thought I was from Holland.

Luckily Crystal is from Holland.

The veil of clouds break just enough on a cable car ride to view the sprawling expanse of Bogota.

Fortunately Bogota is filled with great museums and restaurants which meant we could spend a lot of time indoors and not outside battling the elements.  One of our favorites was The Museo del Oro (Gold Museum).  It has the largest collection of pre-Hispanic gold work in the world with more than 6000 pieces on display.  It is easy to imagine why once discovered by Europeans, the New World was a land to be plundered no matter what the costs to either side blinded by the riches in gold alone.  It's amazing that so many pieces have survived in such good health to this day and a privilege to view the advanced skill and knowledge the indigenous people portrayed in their works.

The other great thing about Bogota was the eateries.  We had been looking for authentic good Colombian cuisine for a while and Bogota did not fail us on that.  Tiny two story restaurants squeezed side by side with shared walls were the apparent hot spots for the locals especially to take refuge in when the cold and rain picked up.  A great variety of hot, creamy soups and tamales wrapped in banana leaves that had a half chicken inside never left you hungry but always ready to eat more.  One of the local favorites we had to try was an extremely dark cocoa drink served with warm butter bread and cheese that are supposed to be dipped or soaked in the chocolate and then eaten as you drink.  It seemed like an odd combination but once we tried it we had it after every meal.

Gold place

Gold face

Hot and delicious meals helped us through the days.

Dark chocolate, butter bread, and cheese.

There was the occasional break in weather which gave us enough time to enjoy our strolls throughout the city one of which lead to the grand plaza in front of the nation's capital building.  The plaza is the focal point in the historic La Candelaria district attracting mostly tourists and pigeons which in turn attract a plethora of hawkers selling everything from pigeon feed to mini alpaca rides.

The happiest boy in the world.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words but this one needs a lot more explaining to fully appreciate.  After a long day of walking, Crystal and I ended up in this plaza and once we gently declined the vendors pursuits for the 100th time, we were able to take up residence on the edge of the plaza to relax and take in the sites.  From one of the side streets we could here a small commotion and soon enough three boys came around the corner, one boy being the obvious culprit for most of the noise making.  He was extremely excited to be here, like he had been anticipating this day his entire life and it had finally arrived.  He definitely knew what the plaza had to offer because before he had made it even ten feet into the square he was already yelling his demands with a huge smile on his face: "I want all the pigeon feed you have.  I want all the miniature alpacas here now.  Where is the photographer?"  It didn't take any translating to understand that much.  In the blink of an eye he was on the back of an alpaca with pigeons clambering on his outstretched arms having his picture taken while his two friends grinned at each other and paid for everything he wanted.  I am not sure if he was slightly medicated after just being released from the hospital for a severe illness or this was the Colombian version of the 'Make A Wish Foundation' but if he would have been any happier he would have exploded.  It was like it was his birthday,  Christmas, and the government had declared a holiday in his honor all on the same day.  Crystal and I were astounded that an under-sized alpaca and dirty pigeons could bring so much joy to one person.  It was amazing to watch.  If everyone in the world had just 10% of whatever this kid had it would put an end to famine, war, and poverty in an instant.  We were lucky enough to be the only foreign tourists in the area and once he spotted us he immediately ran our way with a photographer in tow to take a picture with us to commemorate the event.  It was a true honor and pleasure.  Our last day in Colombia couldn't have been any better.

After being together 24/7 for the past 3 months it was odd dropping Crystal off early the next morning at the airport for her flight to Canada.  I am not sure if the bikini wax shop was even open that early.  I still had some work to do since I still didn't have a boat yet to get me across the Atlantic but that is just a minor stumbling block which I will cover next time.

Cheers and hope everyone is well,