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Finding Faraway
0150 Its been a real challenge. I know two words of Portugese and that is more than my driver knows of English. I first went ti the Ferry dock of Cabadelo. Through many scribbled maps and phone calls to a translater, we managed to finally locate Capitain' Philippe Marina. I can see Faraway anchored not faraway, no pun intended, but I don't have a dinghy, no one answers the VHF radio and I don't really want to swim. So I am sitting up for the night with the Seyerino,the night watchman. He is very calm and we would visit if we had a language in common. It is a comfortable temperature and a nice breeze. The clouds cover and uncover the almost full moon. The music from the pavillion is soft and in English. I yogi a shower.
Another man, Waldemier is hanging around. He tries to teach me some Portuguese. He is 39, A Capricorn. January 18, 1972. Seyerino was born January 23 but he is Aquarious. By morning they are friends and offer to take me and my baggage to the boat when their other friend arrives in a little skiff.
They bang into Faraway, leaving a divit as I holler for John, the captain I will be crewing for the next nine months. We will leave Jacare around the end of the month when the boat is ready to sail and cruise down the coast of Brazil, Uraguay, Argentina, across to Antarctica, by Cape Horn and up the Patagonia channels to Santiago, Chili. At least that is the plan.
John is happy to see I made it. He had quite a day yesterday trying to make sense of the delays and having no way to communicate. I climb aboard and have a look around.
Faraway is a 37.5' Ketch designed by William Garden. John built it himself and launched it in 1970. A solid boat with an abundance of sails. It looks good with a fresh coat of paint and I have my own private cabin in the bow. I am exhausted, but I do my best to get aquainted and stow all my belongings.
John has a list of projects to get done before we can sail. He bangs new grommets into a sail and sews on slides. I tried to sleep a bit but There is too much going on. We walked into the town of Intermares and picked up a few groceries and walked back in the dark just in time to join the other cruisers on Mollymawk for dinner. There were at least 12 guests and they all spoke French except The South Africans. John Philip was the entertainment of the night as he talks with grandiose hand gestures. After a couple beers, he had me attempting to speak French for the amusement of the crowd. Isabella and Thomas, Tanya, Roxanne, Ceasar, oh , I can't remember all the names. I need sleep! That's my excuse.
