SV Inishnee: Guyana. The passage there and the first of many surprises and excursions

Guyana, South America

The passage and first excursions

Oct 20 - 30

Fuel and water stop in the rain

Thursday

Free of the mooring ball, fuel and water topped off we set off for Guyana 11am Thursday October 20. Jim, I and brother Rich.

We rounded the Bocas (islands) reading north, turned eastward, Trinidad did not let us go easily. We motored straight into head-on seas of 4 foot with 18 knot and 20 knot winds… on the nose. We motored onward following the northern shore of Trinidad for most of the day bucking the wind and waves. Awe added a few added temporary tattoos to various parts of our anatomy that soon turned from red to purple to green. As evening approached, we changed our course; south, south east; the rhumb line set. Rich’s watch brought a small pod of dolphins surfing beside the boat followed moon rise.

Friday

The waves diminished to 2 - 3 footers on our new heading but the equatorial current slowed our progress; 1 1/2 to 2 knots against us. We hauled up the sails and finally cut the engine. Winds were decent bouncing from 10 - 18 knots. Smelling fish, the search was on… dolphins off the starboard quarter…you can often smell the dolphins before seeing them. A couple of adults accompanied by babies surfed the bow wave, off the stern were more. Although a ways off the pod was jumping and spinning, putting on a playful show.

Our new course was more comfortably and we were finding our rhythm; napping, eating, sail tweaking (Jim) and watching the large fishing vessels pass by. Night approaching, shift changes in effect. My watch was early then fell to the guys. Sleep came fast and hard for me after last night’s thrashing about.

double rainbow

Whaaaant! Whaaaant! Whaaant! ??? ‘Oh sh*t ! The manual fog horn is screaming away. From a dead sleep I crash through the darkness to the cockpit to see the strobe light flashing away, Rich shouting and Jim blaring away on the horn. K: ’What’s going on !?’ … J: there’s a HUGE bird trying to land on the mast head…’ what? I look up in time to see very large feet and a lot of flapping overhead. More yelling and horn honking… finally the bird decided it was not worth the effort and flew off. 1 AM. Back to bed for me, it’s 1am Saturday…

My watch resumed around 3:30am. A briefing by Jim and he was off for some sleep. …fish, I smell fish again. Really strong. Looking around I can’t see any dolphins… I kneel on the cushion to get back to my nesting corner of the cockpit when… blaaaaah! squish and flopping and lots more fish smells… The guys were up like a flash, hard to sleep through the brief but deafening screams I had emitted. A flying fish had flown into the cock pit and landed very close to my hovel. He was returned to the sea taking with him a story to tell his friends at school… The rest of the watch was uneventful. We were out of the shipping lanes and the fishing traffic. Not much to ‘watch’ on watch.

Saturday daylight hours.

It was finally really pleasant sailing. Story book type. Warm breeze, waves 1 - 2 foot. The current down to a 1/2 knot. Proper cooking could resume in the galley. The day passed taking turns napping, on watch and dodging the very hot sun. Then… Fish On! Rich was given the task of hauling it in… what a catch! A lovely tuna about 2 pounds worth. He was returned to his mamma for further upbringing. The line set out again and soon another fish was one. Rich again on the rod but a bigger fight ensued. He proved up to the task and hauled aboard a much larger tuna. In less than 1 1/2 hours it was in our very satisfied and full bellies.

a liitle messy

Saturday night I took early watch again after our 8pm ssb call to cruising friends keeping tabs on us from Guyana. Duty: 8:15 till tired, then wake up the next crew member, Rich. Clouds and lightning threatened as it had every night; sometimes making good on the it. Jim got a downright drenching in an earlier squall. The moon rise was getting later every night, tonight it would be well after midnight. The stars to keep us company, always a shooting one (or 2) to make a wish on. The bioluminescence sparkling with every slap of a wave, the foam pushing away from the hull in masses of illuminated froth. Very special to witness.

We saw a few boats as we closed in on the shores of South America, no AIS so they were probably local fishermen. I found myself in total enjoyment as time slipped past the hull. Rich came up for his shift but I turned him away… I was not sleepy on this most pleasant night. With little to do and the bowline (knot) still frustrating me after years of sailing, I set our to master it… Which I did! I can even do it behind my back, though not very quickly. The bowline is a very useful knot that can be easily untied, but holds fast and stays strong when needed. The minutes ticked away and soon nearly four hours had passed. Midnight. Rich was called up and shortly after a squall damped the decks followed by NO wind… Jim and Rich dropped sails and the iron wind (engine) was called back to action.

Sunday

The coast should be there… we were really close… Fishing boats coming and going. Up ahead ‘piles’ (wooden poles) were sighted, wooden pole to support fishing nets. Lots of them. Our waypoints tell us to go here not there… to avoid them. Which we did. Finally far off in the distance a bit of something… trees? very low on the horizon. Then more and some buildings. Land Ho!… Just under 3 full days at sea we had made it.

Rich hoisting the anchor ball

The coast here is very low. Very shallow. And there is a lot of shoaling. We continued past the town of Parika heading up the Essequibo River. The river is 4 miles wide at this point. Very silt laden. The look of heavily milked tea. Our presence is noted by locals as we pass through; very few cruisers have navigated these waters. The charts only go up river 40 miles to the town of Bartika. After that is is hit and miss, literally… The waypoints being set by cruisers who found skinny water or rocks and have shared their soundings so others can travel with some assuredness. We were riding in on high tide and pushed forward till the current turned and forced us to find an anchor hole for the night till we could again catch the high tide up river… We choose a spot off Baboon Island, no, we did not see any, far from the deep water (20 - 30 feet) shipping channel. The river still being 4 miles wide is segregated by many finger islands. Our section was about 1 mile across. We set our brand spanking new Rocna anchor in 18 feet of water. It bit and held first try. A substantial investment but well worth the peaceful nights we plan to have NOT dragging anchor in adverse conditions. Jim and Rich were caught on camera by passing locals, they are very photogenic… This area really doesn't get many visitors, we are a novelty.

We celebrated with a big dinner and a few beverages. Butterflies fluttering in and out of the cockpit. Parrots roosting on the palms along the shore. Bellies full and just a wee bit lubricated, I turned in early… 7:30 and the guys followed shortly after… a much needed full nights sleep ahead.

crunch crash… crunch crash, repeat, repeat, repeat…. ‘Jim get up! something’s wrong with the anchor!’ 11 pm. No moon. Jim’s on deck inspecting the bow and anchor… something has surrounded the hull… a drift net… The boat is nearly engulfed, the fishing net raking up and down on the hull… you may remember we just had the entire boat painted! Jim lifted the edge of the net, we could see at least a 1/2 mile of net in one direction, the other end a few boat lengths off the port side, each with large floats attached on the ends. Off in the distance Jim noticed a light, very faint. A shout out and a call back. J: are you fishing? Fisher Men (FM): yeah…. J: there is a net surrounding our boat… FM: we’ll be right over…. Up they motor to see their net encapsulating us. FM: ohhh, we’re very sorry. The Fisher Men were actually young boys. Around 12 and 14 in a large wooden boat. After evaluating the situation they decided they'd have to cut the support line for the net to ease the tension on out boat in hopes of freeing us eventually. With the strain removed they said they'd have to leave but would be back in 5 minutes. We watched them zip off … not to return for another hour and a half… ???

Unfortunately they had to completely cut their net in half to free us, there seemed to be no untangling the remaining mess. A HUGE expense for them and much labor to repair… they were very apologetic. Jim mentioned to them that we had our anchor light on… which they did see but mistook for a satellite overhead… O.K.

FM: we have fresh fish, might you like to buy some? hmmmm, at 1:30 in the morning a fish purchase was not in the plan. Sorry. Their catch included a very large, long whiskered catfish of some sort… very interesting… but, we just wanted to get some sleep.

Bartika

We needed to wait for the rising tide to set off again up river. We had the morning to take in the sites while at anchor. Tugs towing barges up and down stream. River taxis transporting people and goods. A large ferry boat with people, autos and supplies.

We hauled up the anchor and headed back to the channel, following more or less the same path. The depths were still good at 15 feet, clearly enough water for a 6 foot draft… unless … there is shoaling. If you’re going to run aground, get it over early in the day then continue on your way… We plowed through the first grounding , then on through a second… though is was sand under the keel there was no damage but we had just had the bottom painted with anti fouling, there’s less now…. grrrr

Back in the channel and deep water we were on our way again. Fast taxis passing by, a School Boat picking up students. Large timbers on shore at a mill. Lots of butterflies, birds and dragonflies.

Bartika ahead. Customs and immigration check point. 15,000 people… It’s a bustling frontier like town. Rather rough around the edges. Jim dinghy’d ashore to clear us in. An hour and a half later returning for the rest of the crew… we all must report to customs. The forms filled in and signed we were approved to stay for 3 months but would be granted more time if desired. We wandered around till we found the bank and ATM. Millionaires! We are MILLIONAIRES! The exchange rate here is…. $200 GD to $1 USD…. with lots of Guyanese dollars in hand we were set.

Bartika area…

Baganara
photo curtesy of Willie H

We dropped the hook up stream of Bartika off the lovely private island of Baganara Resort and Restaurant. We were welcomed to ‘town’ by fellow cruisers then got to the task of setting up house. Solar screens and water containment awning put in place. Cockpit cushions up top and laundry line strung. A quiet dinner aboard and sleep… nearly 11 hours of it, undisturbed. The next morning we were quite refreshed and ready for adventure. An excursion to a waterfall had been arrange by the other cruisers; we were quick to join in. An open boat, Doll, picked us all up and we were on our way… but a fuel stop was required. The tides here are 8 - 10 feet.

The fuel dock is an old wooden structure protruding out over the river that you drive under. The boat was tied to the pilings and one of our young guides climbed the pilings and lowered a bucket with fuel additive. Then the gas pump was lowered down and fuel added, then we were off again; almost. The life jacket bag was opened and life jackets were passed forward. 16 passengers, 6 life jackets… not quite coast guard approved but we were off …

fueling photos curtesy of Sabrina...

Our trip took us around the point of land that supports Bartika to the Mazaruni River. We were dropped at the B&K Quarry were we were to continue on foot but the guard told us we needed to continue up river to the ‘welcome center’. We piled back in the launch and continued around the corner as directed, disembarked and took a seat in the waiting area. A new guard met us. A bit gruff, he chewed on the ear of our guide Shawn for while. Then turned to the group and wanted to know “who is the leader of this gang?’…. We all looked around kind of befuddled … He asked again… ‘ who is the leader of this gang?. One of our brave souls, Tim volunteered. He was chastised a bit too before the the guard left us… A fancy charter bus then appeared and we were wondering … is the bus taking us to the quarry falls ? … or hoosegow? We were driven to the falls and allowed entrance. whew… Not sure what all the earlier fuss was about…

The Gang

The Quarry Falls are in the middle of the B&K gravel mining facility and quite a popular place on the weekends. We had the place to ourselves. The fresh cool water was fantastic! The water passes through an old slew way then tumbles over rocks and into crevices creating The Falls. There is a main building for food and beverage purchases, bathrooms and seating areas. Along the falls were a number of covered seating areas as well. We spent the entire day sipping Banks, the local beer, while our pores cleansed themselves of sweat.

Our driver picked us up at 3 and returned us to the ‘welcome center’… just in time for an all out downpour. The landscape disappeared in the deluge. Shawn our very energetic guide was not deterred. He set off to find something… and returned with a frog in hand. After 20 +/- minutes, Shawn declared it was time to go… we loaded ourselves into Doll, rain still falling but much diminished.

Across the river we went to the Ferry Landing, a very rustic town where the ferry crosses / lands. Some logging, some mining and a port of transfer. We descended upon a very small, quaint restaurant and place orders. Grilled chicken and: lo-mein, rice and beans or cook up (a local dish of rice and black eyed peas, very tasty!). We were served in groups of 4, rotating seats at the table. Cats and dogs under foot eager to catch any table scraps. We took a walk around the little village a couple blocks long but deep in interest. A HUGE truck, 8x8, loaded with fuel barrels and covered in red mud rumbled by. Small shacks selling goods lined the street: veggies, dry goods, a few bar and grills. A hotel (?), and beauty salon with Susan plaiting a young lady’s hair on the porch. And then it was time to go home… The ride home was extremely bumpy with waves and wind creating resistance, but at least the 6 with life vests might survive being ejected from the boat… there are many hidden rocks and shoals lurking below the surface…

Back home we discovered there had been a mini hurricane. 35 knot winds. Horizontal rain. A fellow cruisers boat drug anchor but our vessel held secure. Evening upon us, we called it a night.

We were up early and doing projects before the sun became too intense. The decks were given a good scrub just in time for the next rain. We collected nearly 15 gallons of rain water. By 9am the heat encouraged us to put off further chores … We freshened up and went ashore to introduce ourselves to the proprietor, Stewart. This island has been in his family for over 40 years. He and his business partner, Paul, have been developing it and plan to expand.

Our timing was incredible; Stewart’s birthday was that day and their chef in residence was being trained by a visiting Canadian chef… they plied us all with several delectable dishes soon to be included on their menu… warm birthday cupcakes dripping with icing topped off the treats.

Stewart and Paul agreed to help us plan a few adventures into the interior.

As conversations tend to meander… Stewart and Paul were curious about our life style, living aboard as we do. They have dreams of purchasing a sailboat and traveling the Caribbean… The best way to familiarize yourself with the lifestyle is to come aboard! We have signed them on as crew for our passage to Tobago when our time in Guyana ends.

River rapids ahead

We returned that evening for dinner. The most any of us has EVER spent… 22 thousand dollars! …Guyanese dollars… the second game of the World Series completed our evening. GO CUBS!

Another excursion upon us, we went to Marshall Falls. Our guide Lincoln from Banagnara Resort. He made several detours along the route to show us local attractions. A 3 toed sloth on a nearby island. The monument in Bartika commemorating a massacre in 2006 killing police offices, bystanders and drug runners. The ruins of a fort and a prison. He skillfully maneuvered around hidden and obvious river obstacles and negotiated a stretch of rapids before our beaching the boat at the trail head to Marshall Falls. A old gold mining river barge scouring the river bed for treasure droning away just off shore. *A number of business in Bartika ‘Buy Gold’ kind of like the tv ads say… but they deal in raw material not jewelry…

We hiked a bit up a trail to a fork in the path and veered right… Jim who stepped off the trail to answer the call of nature was unaware of our route … when it was discovered he was no longer following shouts and whistles when out… I retraced our steps just as Jim came around the trail from the ‘other’ fork… Of course there was some razzing to follow.

The falls ahead could be heard and soon were within sight. The color of the water was enchanting and alarming. Clear but dyed red from tannins leaching from plant matter. Lincoln encouraged us to scramble up the falls, negotiating the holes and boulders beneath the surface of the rushing water. Land goats that we are we (I) less than gracefully stumbled over the obstacles to reach the top of the falls to sit at the precipice, water cascading around us.

tannis in the water give it an eerie blood red hue

The return trip was fast and smooth.

Happy hour on shore before dinner…

Georgetown and Divali.

Stewart and Paul have invited Jim, Rich and I to be their guests at their home in Georgetown…

We are very grateful to them for such a generous offer…

We left Baganara by plane. A quick 20 minute flight over dense forests with a smattering of mining and agriculture. Stewart and Paul then escorted us to their lovely home where we may Stewarts mom Doreen and Linda. They whisked us off to the butcher and grocer. Dinner next then off again to a night tour of Georgetown and cocktails at Pegasus.

The next day was filled with activity. A trip to downtown.

Meeting up with the other cruisers for a few Banks and ice-cream. A gathering at Stewart and Pauls before setting off for the sea wall to view the parade after dark. With hundreds of spectators migrating to the parade route we opted to walk. Street food in hand we secured a place on the wall and watch as thousands gathered. The floats were all decked out on festive light with participants dressed in traditional clothing staffed and passed depicting scenes to represent the meaning of Divali…

The Hindu Festival of Lights… a festival to celebrate the victory of knowledge over ignorance and hope over despair.

We unfortunately would miss the Sunday night finale where millions of tiny lights would be lit and cast skyward or afloat in commemoration of the victory…