Hellos & Goodbyes

Jan 31

My last glimpse of DOMINO was from the big blue bus as it climbed the mountainous road overlooking the Bay of Dolphins. She had swung in the breeze, I think to see me off … yet I was a distant memory no doubt as Marie and JP have many miles ahead to ponder, and I am now just a part of her happy history.

Fabi brought me to the bus stop and awaited its tardy arrival, then suddenly the bus was here; I stuffed my bags (a bit less heavy from my most recent purge) up the steps and in a flurry of kisses and goodbyes (“big kisss... gros bisous... grande bejos” Fabi says) I was gone: on a very bumpy bus ride weaving up and down mountains and through the verdant vegetation and farmlands of southeastern Brazil, alone with my memories and thoughts.

Once again my travels have been blessed with the presence and generosity of friends and strangers-who-have-become-new-friends. I have always tried to maintain an ‘open door’ policy at my home (no matter how modest) especially for young people, strangers, and friends of friends of friends; and I feel God has rewarded me one-hundred-fold – as if any reward was ever needed. The gift in being a safe harbor is indeed a blessing in itself and proof of the abundance you may not otherwise recognize. Alain noted that I may not have beaucoup d’argent but I seemed very rich in friends, and indeed I feel like a very wealthy woman!

Last night after JP helped me haul my stuff to Fabi and Alain’s, and we had socialized with some new cruisers who’d arrived in the anchorage and a neighbor from Vermont, we admired the blue moon from the balcony: then decided to celebrate my last night with a swim. Fabi and I (discreetly – because of the multitude of Saturday night blue moon admirers) skinny dipped in the moon river. The ocean was fresh but delightful, and I slept soundly – for the first time in ages on solid ground – beneath a soft mosquito net, listening to the music of the waves.

Again this morning, after a tranquil breakfast of coffee, toast and jam behind the gauzy curtains that blocked the strong early sun; we went for a final swim – this time the ocean foamy and agitated. Then I repacked (and repurged) my bags a final time (more on the constant getting-rid-of-stuff at another time) and was off.

Right now I am in Campeche on Santa Catarina Island with Abi, Andrew and their extended family – at cousin Alistair’s house, with Grandma Jo, enjoying some family time and relaxation before the voyage south to Pirapolis.

More later, love to all!

Return to Piri

Those nice people in customs were kind enough to invite us back south to check into Brasil again, so a quick r/t (90km each way) to Imbituba was in order yesterday. Alain and Fabi joined us and the trip south was glorious ... although fairly moot as the officials didn't have a launcha for viewing the boat, just wanted some 'fees' and then we were back on our way.

But the stiff wind that sped our journey south was now on our nose: 25k, big green seas, plenty of white caps and spray. When we returned we anchored in another small bay around the corner and protected from the massive surge and wind of the Baia de Magellanes* where we were before. (* the irony of this being that three months ago I was on the Strait of Magellan ... ah what a difference a name makes!)

The walk to Alain and Fabi's casa is about a mile, zig zagging through a confusion of small brightly colored square houses roaming with roosters. Here I am today, using the internet, napping on their hammock to the sounds of the surf, pondering (with a bit of an upset tummy) what's next ... and have decided to travel south on a sailboat I've never seen with people I don't know, back to Piriapolis, despite the fact that this sounds somewhat insane (but what HASN'T been insane in the last four months???)

The deciding factors were:

• Abi and Andrew are friends of a friend and could use an extra hand for the passage
• I came to So. America to sail
• It seemed destined: I was drawn to finish my So American journey in the same small town - Piriapolis, Uruguay - where I began
• Abi has been friendly and welcoming with a good sense of humor
• And finally (but not lastly) I have several days before I head to the San Blas Islands to see the Salleys and -- having never intended on a road trip nor 'vacation' and having very little funds -- I could not afford a hotel for a week; so I am keen to continue prostituting myself as crew ("P'tit Mousse") in exchange for a dry (fingers crossed) bed and food (which I'm glad to prepare).

So ... as of Feb 1 (ish) I expect to be offline again and sailing south, around the corner at Punta del Este, and back to Piri, before flying to Panama.










PHOTOS: early morning departure for Imbituba; NAUTI CHICA sighting!; fishing boats anchored there; JP and Fabi at the casa; the new man in my life - "Cake"

Bioluminescent Angels

Jan 25

It smelled at first like green peppers. Then coffee, then fuel … and at last, flowers: a heady scent of jasmine and blossoms that overwhelmed us, emanating from this smoky mysterious coast of Jurassic Park mountains of green and rock.

We anchored in bay in the dark night, guided by coordinates [27 24 01S 48 33 35W] and a light Alain flashed from the terrace of the house; and set about deploying the dinghy, when from the black lagoon a voice called out “Champagne?”

Fabi had swum out to greet her friends and Marie swiftly handed over her duties and jumped in. As soon as SCRAPPY was in the water and secured, JP and I followed suit and soon we were all splashing around in the warm refreshing CLEAN water. The bay was lush with bioluminescence that sparkled in neon bursts with our movements and I made ‘bioluminescent angels’ (like snow angels) in the dark. An unforgettable arrival in an truly unforgettable place: Governador Celso Ramos, Brasil.

XO

PHOTOS: Alain and Fabi’s house (L) just ashore; another view of DOMINO from Alain & Fabi’s home just north of Florianopolis; me on the terrace overlooking the anchorage

Jan 27

This morning I swam to shore, walked along the beach with its gritty sand, then laid on the beach counting my blessings a bit (until the surf came up and reminded me it was time to return) then swam back to DOMINO. It is great to be in a place and with people conducive to an active lifestyle. Boating isn’t always physical – especially power boating – but Marie has been inspiring in her efforts to keep moving. In the casa @ Paraguay we did aerobics in the morning, and once DOMINO was launched, swam in the Rio Paraguay (when the dirty water and unseen nibbly things didn’t get to me too much .. ) At the YC Ascuncion I did my water aerobics routine in the pool and took daily mango-thieving walks along the golf course. Underway we’ve tried to keep hopping, up and down the stairs (and a fair bit of cleaning to keep the upper body in shape :-D) and always, always good eating habits. But this is the most delightful by far!

Today Fabi is taking us into town (we are actually anchored about an hour north) and hopefully I will ascertain what my next move is ... north? south? west? I will know soon – for now, enjoying this Brasilian Paradise!

ADDENDUM: we cruised the cavernous city streets of Florianopolis, sky-high buildings jammed together like matchsticks on the verdant island of Santa Catarina; pausing at the seafood market where we got a feast fit for a king (and queen!) including oysters @ 12 for $2US - so I bought a dozen for each and every one of us!

PS – please visit Marie’s blog for her take on life in Paradise!! www.dominocatamaran.blogspot.com

THE HEART OF A SAILOR

Jan 22

It nearly killed me. We had just arrived on a ridiculously fast and fabulous trip down the Rio Parana and across the Rio de La Plata, into the spectacular little city of Punta del Este (where the beautiful people come to see and be seen and play) on the posh and comfortable motor cat DOMINO.

But sitting at anchor, abreast this compact So American city on a spit of land that juts into the blue, refreshing Atlantic, it nearly slaughtered me to watch the sailboat racers gliding in after the Rolex Big Boat regatta here.

DOMINO is spacious, comfortable, well thought out, extremely fast and a real looker; and Marie and JP Dufour, who built the yacht in Paraguay, are brilliant, fun, and have a tremendously giving mission ahead of them. But here I was, yearning to be on a little race boat: sweating, grinding, pulling, sailing …

For whatever reason: chemical, physical, emotional, what-have- you: I am a sailor. I love to sail and I love to race. I can't even get into all the things I love about it (but at some point I will try) however I have a HEART for sailing.

Today I tried to get on a race boat – but even I, a 'famous periodista' (hahaha) couldn't finagle a lift considering it's the last day of this highly competitive regatta. So I watched the start -- brilliant: with all classes starting the coastal race at once, across the quay from colorful fishing boats, with swarms of tourists and supporters stacked on the breakwater (a tumble of three-foot-cubes of rock) watching the beautiful chaos of the boats cross the line, and tilt towards Isla Gorrita, in a cool freshening breeze.

We leave for Florianopolis, Brasil, in the a.m. (24 Jan) Much love to all ~ Betsy

PUNTA!

If you are reading this we are in Punta del Este!!!

Approaching Punta del Este, Uruguay @ 3:15 THURSDAY! The sky is blue, the ocean blue-er” -- what a gorgeous day and great passage!

We left Rosario Wed. afternoon and motored at 11-12 knots through the night. There was no moon, and the river is very narrow and winding with LOTS of shipping traffic very close … Intense!

Officially entered the Rio de la Plata 2:30AM (Jan. 21) and will be in Punta del Este this afternoon. Wow: we are just screaming across the this wide expanse of water @ 20k!

All’s well, more from Punta after we have a chance to put our hair back on our heads.

XO ~ Betsy

Update from Rosario, Arg.

So many subjects, so little internet … here’s a consolidated version of what’s happened in the last four days since DOMINO left Asuncion:

JAN 16: If the Rio Paraguay was a river of chocolate milk, then the stretch where it joins the Rio Bermejo it can only be described as café latte, bubbling and boiling as this central South American branch blends with the chalky brown waters from the Andes (and again, where the Parana meets the Paraguay).

You know how coffee looks when you add milk? How yeast bubbles up when you make bread? In fantastic clouds and eddies and silent ‘eruptions’ the river boils like this before our eyes, with curdled water for miles and miles and miles …

Leaving Paraguay (at last!) we tie up to the decrepit dock at Pilar to check out at Immigration, dangling in the current from our bow line, to let the rickety wooden ferries from the Argentina side come in and out. We’re anchored so long, as Marie goes back and forthwith paperwork and copies, that all sorts of creatures come to visit: crickets, double-winged dragonflies that look like biplanes (skittish, unlike their cousins the electric blue darning needles which will land right on your finger so you can free them outside) and even a cardinal: bonking his head on several windows before being ushered (a bit dizzy, I bet!) out.

Continuing south, in places the banks rise 20’ high, in others tree tops peek out from the water. Just southof where the Rio Bermejo comes in there is a deserted cemetery; elsewhere flooded estancias and ranchitos blend into the river: the horses, cattle and sheep knee-deep in water. There are verdant jungles and swamps, with meager dwellings of wood and tarps tucked in the most shocking and remote places. Nearby you might spot patches of sugar cane, corn or banana trees, and a small boat. It is humbling that people can and would make their homes here.

Amidst this peaceful river, I note a demarcation on the chart near Curupayty “MINEFIELD” … land mines from the Triple Alliance War of the mid 1800s … War and poverty will find you anywhere in the world.

After several hours we are greeted with modern powerboats zipping by DOMINO and I fear at the city of Corrientes the river will lose some of its magic … we cross under the angular span of a bridge Marie and JP said, three years ago, “One day we will pass under this bridge.” Today was the day.

Kamikaze fireflies and tap dancing bugs

JAN 16: The visitation of multi-legged and winged critters continues well into the night, when we anchor off Empedrado, with a small cluster of foliage (not quite enough to call an ‘isla’) to port, that chatters with strange sounds all night; and to starboard, across the channel, a fishing contest that likewise draws noisy-all-night neighbors, with music playing even as we awake at 5AM to start a new day.

DOMINO hosts a plethora of creepy-crawly-creatures (a veritable biology class in insectology) as we ply the river. Marie and I stand outside at night, battered by kamikaze bugs too stupid to realize DOMINO is a solid object: drawn by the slightest glow of light off her Bristol white hull. They smack into her, clattering, falling from the flybridge; they fly into us and the windows, like a suicide mission - towards any glimmer of light. We have big black beetles, skinny ones, crickets, grasshoppers, flying ants and aphids of all kinds; and a veritable lightshow of fireflies incessantly pulsating. It’s like our own performance of “A CHORUS LINE” with a non-stop tap dance of bugs and a playbill light show. ALL. NIGHT. LONG.

Sleeping at the pilot berth (the cooling breeze this night keeps the mosquitoes at bay) the bugs are drawn to the instrument panel, which I cover with a towel. Even so, the subtle glow attracts plenty of visitors and I fall asleep to a racket of clicking and snapping and scratchy bug noises …

PS -- in the morning, we have to clean up all the corpses!

PPS – JAN 20 a smallish green frog takes up residence today. Wanting to set him free before he croaks (bad um bum!) I scoop him up with my hand and a Tupperware and pass him to the guy at the fuel dock.

You have never seen such panic in a manly-fuel-dock-kinda-dude! Arms flailing, high-pitched squeals … “POISON!” he yells and throws the frog into the sink (the sink??!) Hmmm. I get to work scrubbing potential poison frog juice from my hands and plastic container until one of our guests points out is it nothing more than a cute green tree frog. Just as I suspected …

Navigation by sticks, trees and hypothetical marks:

JAN 17: The Rio Paraguay is poorly marked to start with; in its flooded state it is impossible to know where the river ends and the forest begins. Thankful to have Gustavo, our pilot; it is still tenuous navigating by sticks, patches of cardboard on trees, and marks that should be there … but aren’t.

Basically you find a mark (it might be a large square white sign on a tree in the jungle, or a post painted white) and navigate towards it until you see the next mark (or not – as there are not many!). The charts we use on the northern part of our route are drawn by hand, Xerox copied over and again, with lagunas, riachos, vueltas and portreros of camalotal chicken-scratched in, and every building sketched in (they are so rare). When all else fails we follow the camalote: as these floating islands of greenery follow the swiftest (and deepest) part of the waterway. Only once do we come to a groaning halt – but luckily the bottom is squishy and we slide back off.

Riacho de Goya

JAN 17: Perhaps it’s because the boat is so sleek and beautiful … or that Marie and I (two blonde gringas in swimsuits) are smiling and waving and snapping photos on the aft deck … or maybe it’s the massive American flag we fly astern …whatever it is: DOMINO is a hit on the Riacho de Goya, a tiny estuary skimming a stretch of weekend and vacation homes, small ranchitos, and barrios – all equally and indiscriminately flooded.

The number of deserted and destroyed homes is devastating: the water lapping at the shanties, homes abandoned, meager possessions afloat … and still – naked children splashing in the rio wave to us; old timers drinking their terere -- ankle deep in water beneath giant trees -- wave to us; fishermen in boats, or the shoreline; tug boat drivers, ANYONE from Asuncion, they all wave to us. Truly heart warming: I feel blessed.

Putting the SHAKE in “Shakedown”!!

JAN 18

Motoring through Santa Fe, the Prefectura radioed us with warnings of a tormenta. We had seen the clouds building: big Charlie Bravos, streaked black on the bottom, and lightning, in the distance; and close the hatches and watch the squall line approach.

BAM! It hits hard – with rain then hail and gusts later reported to 50-60mph (h

ow many times in one season can a girl experience 60 mph winds?! uncle!) and total white-out conditions. The island ahead, the riverbank to port: obscured by the driving rain. Navigating by radar we pick our way through the narrow course … Water streams in through the hatches that havn’t been dogged on the second lip (this requires one person standing outside on the hatch to compress the gasket, with another below to cinch it closed – something we will never again cheat on) and DOMINO tosses and turns in the turbulent water.

Soon the storm abates but the rio is a minefield of camalote and fallen trees and waves caused by the long fetch of the river … I can gladly report that both the boat and the crew handle the ‘shake down’ test with flying colors!

SAVE THE COWS!

JAN 18: Tonight we are anchored in 30-feet of water on a small riacho off the Parana, with cows grazing just a few feet away.

And I was worried about snakes.

(Actually it is quite sad as a lot of cattle are stranded on shrinking spits of land and islas, due to the flooding, and are at risk of starving or drowning. SAVE THE COWS!)

Earlier we passed an area which Gustavo pointed out has a lot of birds, crocodiles and giant rats (which I took to mean Capybara) however we did not (fortunately) stop.

Rosario & beyond

JAN 20: Early yesterday morning we arrived in Rosario: a fantastic city and home of John Deere So. America. Part of the last two days have been spent doing speed trials (YEE HA!) with the technicians and top brass – pretty exciting stuff. But also – I played hookey yesterday and went to the island for a little sightseeing … more on this when we next hit some wifi. For now, Marie and I are dashing to pick up our laundry and some groceries, then we’re off – probably not stopping again ‘til Piriapolis or Punta del Este (3-4 days??)

Til then … much love & warmest greetings to you all XOXO Betsy

PHOTOS:
Turbulence where the muddy waters of the Andes and Amazon meet
JP and Marie survey the flooding
Flooded barrios along the Riacho de Goya
Old Glory makes it through the tormenta
Tied up at a dock in Rosario

On the threshold of dreams

Jan 15

7:30AM and the hotel and yacht club complex in Lambaré (Asuncion, Paraguay) is already shrinking astern. Gustavo our pilot radios the Prefectura (in their rambling, shambling brick building along the waterfront, amidst an oasis of fruit trees riotous with squawking parrots; children playing volleyball; with dogs, men in camouflage and the occasional pig, roaming about … where we went yesterday to get our ‘zarpies’ – paperwork for checking out of the country) and our departure is official!

The day started early (and chilly: so I donned three layers … swimsuit, tank top, and t-shirt :-D) with many friends streaming by to see us off as we scurried around the deck detaching all but the most essential docklines and shore power, and doing other such pre-departure duties.

James Spalding – the recent Paraguayan Ambassador to Washington D.C. – was there with his parents Tim and Marilu, to see us off, so we had His Excellency do the honors of raising the colors this morning, even though it was early (Marie explained that protocol is to hoist the flag no earlier than 8AM and that in the past, ladies were not to be allowed on deck prior to that, as the gentlemen might be bathing in the nude … and she added, ‘I bet those ladies peeked.’) Then we handed him our garbage to bring ashore.

The arrival of well-wishers continued – much like the parade of guests and parties over the last few weeks as Marie and JP began to loosen their emotional ties to Paraguay, in preparation for

tossing off their docklines. Marilu hosted a fantastic farewell party Wed. night (complaining only that people brought ‘too much champagne’) (is there such a thing?); Fidel, Cuckoo and the kids came by last night; and more well-wishers started streaming in at the crack of dawn ... we all have been both excited and anxious about getting underway.

It is always thrilling (and a bit nerve-wracking) to leave a familiar port for new destinations … But even more thrilling is how sweet it is (!) to be with friends at the threshold of their dreams. For 17 years Marie and JP had dreamed of cruising around the world; for three years they labored in a foreign (still developing) country to

physically build this boat. And now the work is done, the yacht finally ready to go, the two of them poised to taste the fruits of their labors at last … and yet, as is human nature: with such trepidation at taking that first delicious bite.

“OH. MY. GOD!” Marie screams in realization, as Marilu (crying) stretches her hand across the widening gap between DOMINO and the steel behemoth we were side-tied to. Our lines are all onboard, the fenders in, DOMINO steams away with friends waving ‘til they are tiny ants on the dock and we turn the bend at the Prefectura.

We are underway!

So I am thinking about dreams: mine, yours, everyone’s … and how I love to see dreams come true. My greatest desire, of being a mother, was granted (thank God) and now I think of Coco and Lani; on the precipice of their futures and yet not even knowing (or daring to imagine) what their dreams are. I wish you mucho suerte chicas! Choose well, then put one foot in front of the other in that direction and one day you will find yourself crossing the threshold and living your dreams, as well.

As for me: here I am, a sunny blue sky dotted with lamb-like clouds; winding down the Rio Paraguay on an elegant and comfortable yacht at a smooth and stellar 12k clip … fishermen wave from their pangas, others wave from shore: DOMINO is eye catching and even the VHF buzzes with talk of “Da-me-nooo” Within the last week I have been tickled with the possibilities of working as crew on a charter in Thailand, a trip to Easter Island, and from Punta del Este (again!?) to the Caribbean; and in six weeks I must find my way to Puerto Vallarta to work on a boat heading north to Los Angeles. What can I say? DREAM BIG!!

Besos! ~ Betsy

PS – “too much champagne?!” Marilu, what were you thinking LOL!

AT TOP: MARIE & NORMAN WAVE TO ALL WHO'VE COME TO SEE US OFF, AT RIGHT: ANCHORED JUST ACROSS THE BORDER, IN ARGENTINA

MORE IMAGES

UPDATE: You could not ask for a better maiden voyage! We logged 148nm during which time we each took a few hours at the helm of DOMINO (under the tutelage of Gustavo; using the radar, depth sounder, and a hand drawn chartbook that had clearly been Xerox copied 100 times over … ) while JP and Norman put the systems through a variety of tests. All systems go!

Gustavo suggested an anchorage for the night: Laguna Perdida – ‘Lost Lagoon’ - and it is in fact idyllic (even the mosquitos think so); we share the night with one lone estancia in the distance. Enjoying our asado on the aft deck, the sky clears and is sprinkled with stars … looking up we see Orion (upside down! hah!); astern swarms of fireflies light up the camalotal framing the lagoon, and heat lightening flashes to the west.

Xoxo Betsy/Mom 26 43 37S 58 15 71W

ROLLING ON THE RIVER

Made the final victory lap (above: Marie, JP and the astillero workers Julio and Lucio) and now we're ready to roll ... all the way to the Atlantic! Wish us Godspeed XO

Christmas in a foreign land

Jan 13 ______________

I gaze up at an unfamiliar sky.

The stars speak gibberish to me … like the guests at the dinner party. Warm, sparkling ... yet still, I long for my native tongue; a place where people think I’m clever and my jokes are funny.

Anaconda Island

Jan 6

I am deterred from swimming in the rio by the realization that the massive camalote which, in the strong current of the Rio Paraguay, has firmly planted itself to our anchor chain -- a dense green island of shiny leaves and grasses and tubers and prickly red flowers, spanning the full width of the catamaran -- is also habitat for poisonous snakes.

Yes our own ‘Anaconda Island’ has put down roots, in a rootless way, beneath DOMINO: draping half the length of her hulls, and precariously close to the swim ladder astern. There’s no way in hell I’m getting in the water, just 15 feet from Club Med for snakes and lizards, no matter how hot it gets …

I know we don’t get to choose how, or when, or where we kick the bucket …. But this is just too unglamorous for me: the thought of being crushed by a giant anaconda that went undetected in the muddy mire; my last startled breath gasping in the polluted water of the Rio Paraguay. If they ever found my remains in this opacity it would be a miracle: twisted in the trash along the river’s edge.

(Still, I cannot count the immeasurable number of camalotes that have drifted by on the endless current of the Rio to the ocean 1300k beyond … and wish to be one of these floating islands of foliage and snakes; instead of anchored abreast the dump and astillero!)

Later a storm blows in briskly. We barely have time to close the hatches when the first blast hits – the remains of our lunch, tools, garbage – all strewn everywhere. DOMINO spins and tugs against the massive bow anchor until the storm dims enough for us to put out a stern anchor too. In the process Anaconda Island has dislodged and is on its merry way down the rio. Swimming is once again hopeful.

… until today (Jan 8) when I go for a dip, and something hidden in the muddy water nibbles and scratches at my left arm. A cool shower will do!

DOMINO HAS LEFT THE BUILDING!

Jan 9 - UPDATE

Seriously! We have left the astillero (this is Spanish for ‘shipyard’, if you are wondering) and headed south for good, leaving amidst a small rain storm and gunning the engines to give the John Deeres a workout, back to the YC from whence we will leave Friday Jan 15. God willing!

It’s cool and the mosquitoes seem to be at bay (even so I’m slicked up with OFF) … our little croc seems quite vociferous tonight so I go on deck to listen and see if I can spot him; I’m in a sarong, eating a peach Marie got from a street vendor, looking at the rare starry sky. There are several dogs barking idiotically in the dark and I half wish our resident caiman would quiet them once and for all …

The wind in my hair …

What a delicious feeling, standing on the bow of the boat: the wind in my hair, shifting from foot to foot on the already scorching deck, furling lines, underway!

We had loosed DOMINO’s surplus docklines first thing this morning (Jan.4) – two lengthy bowlines tied to the jetty, the forward spring line, the aft spring line, the stern line tied to the floating dock, an extra line securing the floating dock to the jetty – and left only the bow and stern lines of our side tie to the massive steel DON ALBINO. Marilu had come for an early visit (I’d say ‘for coffee’ but we’ve run out!) and to cast us off; then DOMINO was on her way … our fifth voyage thus far, and one step closer to D-Day -- final departure from Paraguay (Friday Jan 15?)!

And even though this is a muddy river, and even though she is a motor cat, it was such a wonderfully familiar comfortable feeling to be on a boat, in the warmth of the sun, doing what I do.

So of course, the minute all the fenders were stowed and lines coiled and put away, I went into the galley to chop.

Chopping, anyone who has ever sailed with me will tell you, is one of my favorite pastimes on a boat – once the sails are trimmed, my watch is over, and everything else is ship-shape. Today’s victims were a few random carrots left in the nearly-empty icebox … but my gazpacho is infamous, as well as my (Mom’s) carrot soup, and tortilla soup; and there is always a need to chop veggies for stir-fry, fajitas, or ratatouille (and in the absence of veggies: fruit salad).

I love to ‘be’ on a boat – racing, sailing, cruising, delivering … and in 2009 was fortunate enough to enjoy several offshore excursions (both work and play): Los Angeles, USA to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico; Cabo to LA (via Turtle Bay & San Diego); Honolulu to Hanalei to Catalina to Long Beach; Piriapolis, Uruguay to Buenos Aires, Argentina to Punta Arenas, Chile; and now Asuncion, Paraguay to Punta del Este, Uruguay (via a slice of Argentina). In 2010 the journey continues ...( I just hope to make more money doing this, this year! )