Rhythm of the Rain

It rained so much last night, and so hard, we thought the whole house would be carried away down the no-longer-so-little stream running by us. But here we are - another day, another Real. I looked up the average rainfall figures for Manaus and it looks like we're in for a total of around 300mm (what's that in inches anyway?) this month and next month. Interestingly, this doesn't influence the river level as much as you might think at first - in March the level is pretty static at around 25.5m amsl (it actually falls in the first part of the month), but we can expect a whopping 2m+ rise in April and May. So the level is determined primarily by the rainfall further upstream, which I suppose is pretty obvious when you think of it. Duh.

The practical impact of all this rain is a) my tan is fading and b) it's almost impossible to dry any clothes. So now I'm turning white again and the whole house smells of badly dried clothes (isn't that the name of a pop group or something?) Ah well, never mind

MFI in Brasil?

Naice and I have just finished putting together the most appalling piece of cheap MDF/chipboard/hardboard bedside cabinet I've seen since the 1970s (or rather, that I've been told about - I'm much too young to remember personally). True, it came with the correct amount of screws and nails (nails, hmm..), which technically elevates it above 1970's MFI standards, but then it had a marked absence of pre-drilled holes, which puts it right back down there again. And of course the diagrams were made for the little men in blue coats who designed the thing in the first place, and to whom no doubt it is quite obvious where everything should go. But for we of the great unwashed, it's a case of 'guess where this nail goes?'.

Yes. Nails. Around the back of the unit, where presumably no-one is supposed to look once the thing is backed up against a wall, there is clearly no need for either any finish, or any screws. Just raw chipboard/hardboard full of nails. However I'm pleased to report that previous experience stood us in good stead and when we'd finished, all that was left over were 5 nails. The drawers were almost square and there was barely a wobble from it. It now has pride of place in the double en-suite. The wardrobe I put together, on the other hand, is in the twin en-suite, screwed to the wall for extra support and from where it will never be moved in case it completely collapses. I think a picture of the latest effort is warranted, don't you...?

Zounds

I have found a new toy. It's a program called Raven, developed by Zoundry. It enables you to write your blog offline, add whatever pictures you want and publish the whole lot when you connect. Oh it's alright for you lot in the "developed" countries to scoff, but out here in the wilderness with a 45kbps dial-up connection, this is a major break through. Yippee.

Technorati : Zoundry Raven

ClustrMaps

The eagle-eyed among you will have spotted that I've added a ClustrMap to the sidebar of the blog. This purports to show the location of the blog readers. I'm amazed to see that we have visitors from Scotland and Spain and from what looks like Brasilia in Brazil - but since it's based on IP address, maybe it's just something to do with the service providers people are using. Anyone like to comment?

Technorati : clustrmaps

Motorbikes and Boats

This weekend we visited Naice's brother Romulo and his wife Vanusa in Careiro do Castanho. We crossed the Rio Negro and Solimoes, passing over the famous meeting of the waters, and arrived safely on the other side with the car and Ozzie intact. The fact that the ferry was quite obviously shipping water as we crossed didn't seem to alarm anyone except us. On the way, there was a group of motorcyclists sitting on their bikes drinking beer (what else?). One of them had a Honda Biz (photo), which is marketed here with aplomb by Honda as a cheap and effective way to get around Brazil. One of its main features is the 'boot' under the seat, which is so voluminous it can comfortably take a helmet and a few other oddments, um, to boot. Well, the chap with the Biz had obviously been studying this feature, and found an alternative use. He had filled the thing with ice, and had at least 8 cans of Skol chilling nicely inside. Damned good idea if you ask me, and I'm now seriously thinking of buying one of these instead of one of those silly cooling box things which you have to lug around with you...

We reflected on our luck at crossing unscathed (apart from getting our feet wet from the ingress of water), compared with the fate of the 106 people who went down last weekend with the Almirante Monteiro (pic) when it collided with a barge at night in the middle of the Amazon. The present body count is 16, and since no-one is quite certain how many people were aboard, looks set to rise further. This has prompted calls for the proper navigational signage to be implemented along the Amazon - although the likelihood of this ever happening is pretty remote - and better policing of the state of the thousands of boats plying their trade along the 2000 kilometres of waterway. It was ironic that I first heard this news while I was at the Port of Manaus registering the Shamrock with Capitania. Although Shamrock (and to be fair, many many other boats), is fit for service, there is a distinct lack of policing, particularly of pleasure craft. Conventional wisdom has it that the Capitania will only stop those boats that look like the owner/captain may have a lot of money (more scope for bribery, obviously). I don't know how true this is, but I've certainly never been stopped, and people think I'm mad having the boat MOTd at all. I figured that, me being a gringo, it was worth doing if only because gringoes tend to attract more attention than the locals. However there is another good reason, too, and that is that by registering your craft and paying what is a relatively small fee, you are automatically insured for 3rd party damage. An excellent idea, I think, and it would be nice if more people would do it (or were forced to do it, as the case may be)

Baby you can drive my car...

Local government here has proudly announced that it will be using a new, improved type of asphalt on the roads in Manaus. I laughed so hard Naice had to pick me up off the floor. As a stupid announcement this ranks alongside the stunning news from federal government that in future politicans may have to justify their expenses...

PRINCE2 (Manaus) project work packages for roadmaking:

1. Scrape loose vegetation off surface.

2. Drive something heavy over surface.

3. Scatter mixture of (new, improved) asphalt over surface.

4. Drive something heavy over surface

(5. Cheaper alternative to 4 - pat down surface with shovels).

Strict quality control demands that the final depth of the asphalt should not exceed 3/4 inch, otherwise unwanted side effects may be experienced (like reduced profits).

Fishing II

Well, I remembered to take the camera this time. Not that much in the way of pics, though, as the sun steadfastly (and happily) refused to shine throughout. Charlie and I set off to Lago da Piranha on Saturday afternoon on the first leg, me in the Shamrock, and Charlie in HMS Invincible (pic), to Paulo’s flutuante (pic) in Iranduba, where we spent the night with Paul, Robson and various others whose names I can’t remember. After numerous caipirinhas (cachaça, limes, ice and sugar) and sausages and rice, I spent a good night in my Hennessy Hammock, slung on Charlie’s battleship.

On day two, we took off up the river Solimões, stopping to refuel at Manacapuru. A mild panic attack took place at the petrol station when I had to use all my money for petrol and had none left for beer, but Charlie stumped up for 24 cans, which we felt was probably enough for the one night we would spend at Lago Piranha, so I proceeded in relaxed form. We crossed Lago Cabaliana and entered the canal for Lago Piranha, stopping at Francisco’s flutuante to get permission to continue on. This caused some discussion, as Francisco’s flutuante is, erm, rather basic. The main room has no furniture – I mean none, and there is no electricity, no TV, no radio, no road…just miles of water, kind of surrounded by, um, water. When we arrived, Francisco’s (understandably large) family were seated comfortably on the floor in the spacious lounge. Doing exactly what, is a mystery to me, but there they all were. Anyway, Francisco joined us, permission evidently granted, and we were off again to the lake, some 6km further on.

After wandering round the lake for a while, we fixed on a spot at the south side, near some trees (flooded forest, or igapó). I thought this would be a good time to open the beer, but Charlie had other ideas, and I was persuaded to accompany him and another guy to set a fishing net in the igapó. Out came the little boats (pic), and we were off. I vaguely remember Charlie saying something about carapana (mosquitoes), but nothing could prepare me for what was waiting. It was like walking into wall of mosquitoes. What they had been doing all year without us to feast on, I have no idea, but I can only suppose that while we were at Francisco’s, the word had gone round the mosquito grapevine - and they were ready for us. So we spent about 45 minutes paddling around fighting them off pretty unsuccessfully and laying the net, and finally returned to the boats. Up to this point, I never could understand how Pizarro’s team, attempting to find El Dorado in the Amazon, lost something like 9900 of his original complement of 10000 men and animals. Hmm. Now I do.

Anyway, back at the boats, a bit of alcohol soothed away the effects of the bites and I was quite looking forward to a pleasant, drunken night’s sleep when suddenly it was time to check the nets. Did I want to go and help them check the nets, Charlie asked. Did I want to cut off my left leg and eat it for supper? 'It’s okay', I was told – 'it’s dark now, and the carapana are sleeping'. Ha ha, very funny, I thought. But I went anyway, and right enough, it was much better this time. So there you are – mosquitoes do sleep at night, it appears.

Back at the boat, more beer, more of Robson’s excellent caipirinha, and this time I decided to sling my hammock in the Shamrock. Well, the Shamrock is a lovely boat, but it’s not really ideal for hammocks. I slept fitfully and had to get up to adjust my bits every now and then (and get rid of some of the beer and caipirinha). But the night passed, and I awoke to an excellent 5:45 sunrise. Since everyone else was still sleeping, I decided to push off on my own to do some fly fishing. Fly fishing is not very common in Brazil, and with good reason – an hour and a half later I returned with nothing more than a lot of weed wrapped around my propeller. In my absence, the rest of them had gone off to check the nets again (and welcome to it), and this time returned with a modest catch (pic), including Pirarucu, Tucunare (Peacock Bass) and Piranha. Yeah, but fly fishing is more fun, isn’t it…?

We were off again by mid morning, back to deposit Francisco at his flutuante, have some lunch, and then head off to Paulo’s place at Iranduba. We arrived just as the rain did (thankfully), and settled down to more beer and caipirinha. While we relaxed, Junior was tasked with washing down the horses (pic), while everyone else shouted encouragement and directions from the comfort of the verandah. Good plan. An excellent dinner of bacon and rice followed for me, while everyone else tucked into fish I think (what else, I suppose?). While Paulo went off to watch a soap on TV, Charlie, Robson and I polished off the rest of the caipirinha (well, we left Robson to it eventually – he’s younger than us and needs his alcohol more). Charlie and I headed off to bed (in Charlie’s case) and hammock (in my case).

I slept well, and Charlie and I headed back to Manaus early in the morning, before the weather got its act together. The cruise along a flat-calm Rio Negro at a steady 20 knots in the early morning sun was fantastic, and I arrived back at my marina at 09:00, with some of the catch which Charlie had given me for Naice. Tired, but very happy.

Economic Activity...?

It has been some time since my last blog. Kelly has settled in in the meantime, somewhat to Ozzie’s disgruntlement. Notwithstanding this, Ozzie is doing fine now, with no further tummy troubles. We are also doing fine. The weather continues mercifully cool and damp, although this has brought unexpected problems with damp – most of our clothes and shoes went mouldy, and we nearly lost a lot of old photos and wooden things which we had packed away in the snake pit downstairs. Fine for snakes, but not for ladders, it seems (well, wooden ones at least…).

We’ve had two bookings for the guesthouse now, mysteriously both within 24 hours of eachother and both from Canadians (maybe they had a “Manaus” day on the Canadian internet, or something). Somewhat ironically our first guest - now been and gone, in a serious of disasters that Fawlty Towers would have been proud of – was Mary, from Dublin (well from Canada, but really from Dublin). To cut a veeery long story short we picked Mary up from the airport here at midnight and delivered her to her waiting cruiseliner at Manaus docks at 01:00. Still, she was happy enough and duly paid for her keep, so we were happy, too. And she was very nice. Thanks Mary. The next guests are due in March and I have no doubt we will discover they are from Omagh or some such.

Naice has lost her English language student after she (the student) split up with her boyfriend and decided to move to Rio. On the other hand, after a suggestion from friend Charlie, we placed an ad offering lessons in how to use a GPS, and have been – well, not quite flooded with, but certainly trickled with – responses. The first course was given last Friday and Saturday, and was a success to the degree that they both understood my Portuguese and paid up. I thought it was great fun, and can’t believe people are willing to pay me to enjoy myself pontificating about Garmin products and geocaching up and down the river Taruma in the Shamrock. We’re fully booked for the next two courses, which takes us up to 15th February. With a bit of luck we’ll have enough money now to pay the vet bills for Kelly and Ozzie.

The river level is comfortably high (there, look, no figures), and I’m off fishing to the Lago da Piranha with Charlie this Saturday. Since it’s 150km away up the Solimoes with the entrance reportedly a closely guarded secret, it looks like being an excellent jolly. Forunately or unfortunately, we’ll have to sleep in our respective boats – fine for Charlie, as his is sort of aircraft carrier-sized, and he has his own cabin, whereas my sleeping accommodation will be either on a blow-up bed which I reckon can just about squeeze into the area behind the second bench seat, or in a hammock which it may be possible to sling between the farthest forward portside strut and the farthest aft starboard side strut (or vice versa, I suppose). Well, if nothing else, at least I will have learned various salty technical terms, like “strut” and “mosquito”. Naice, probably very wisely, has declined to go, in favour of taking Ozzie across the river to stay with Mum and Dad. Kelly will be looked after through intermittent appearances by Dona Fatima, our woman-who-does (occasionally). Yes, that’s her name.

Our gardener, Claudionor, has had a bad time with a leg infection he got in someone’s garden (where else), aggravated, he insists, by eating pork. This latter fact provoked heated debate with the Cavadini family at a recent outing, and the argument as to whether this is total, um, hogwash, or not has not yet been settled. Anyway, he’s a really nice guy, Claudionor, so we’re hoping his leg will mend soon. Especially since in the meantime the triffids and Kelly are having a field day in the garden.

Well that’s all the news for the moment. I shall end here so as not to risk the further wrath of those whose preference is for pictures over prose. More pics later - honest. In fact, if I remember, I’ll take the camera on Saturday and photograph the fishing trip.

Meet Kelly

On the way back from a recent boat trip, Naice and I encountered an abandoned pup at the marina. As you can see from the pic., she now has a home and an older brother. Her name is Kelly (it had to be, really…), and she’s around 8 weeks old. Although her lineage is pretty obscure, we like to think there’s some Alsatian in there somewhere.

Christmas was relatively uneventful. During the course of the week we had a nice day at Naice’s parents, an enjoyable meal with the Cavadini family, an excellent boat trip on new year’s eve (pics), and a great new year’s day lunch with some of the da Silva clan (last pic).

Next week we will be gearing up for a year of fitness and increased earnings (just like half the rest of the planet, no doubt).

Happy New Year everyone!

Well, there goes 2007.

Now is probably the time to wish you all a happy Christmas, since I doubt I’ll get the time to update the blog again before 25th. This is one longish piece, rather than the usual multiple update, as someone complained about the stress of having to wade through 15 separate pieces (you know who you are…). But quite right, too – so here’s the week’s update in one block.

It has been an interesting year, what with one thing and another, and here we are 5,028.14 miles from Bangor (approx.) We have found a house and the bits and pieces required to get by, still have a bit of money in the bank, my knees are hairy again, Naice is Amazon-coloured again, and Ozzie has survived. What more could one ask?

Two things stick out from the last week (apart from my ears). No – three. First of all, we found a humming bird (a big humming bird, too) stuck under the canopy in front of the house. It had flown itself silly trying to get out and was so exhausted it was (barely) hanging on upside down to part of the structure (shades of Monty Python). So I got the ladders out and climbed up to it, and it was so weak it let me carry it down (pic). After holding for a while and trying to give it some water, I’m happy to report that it flew off to the nearest palm tree and is once again doing its rounds of the banana flowers on a regular basis. Isn’t that nice? Oh, and on the subject of wildlife, we now have an entirely new group of monkeys visiting us every day. After detailed reference to our I-Spy book of Brazilian primates, we finally identified them as Monk Saki monkeys (pic). They come as a group of 3 females (brown) and two males (black) and are really quite impressive.

Secondly, I had a mole removed. It was really bugging me and we went off to see the dermatologist. Of course I was fearing the worst and making my funeral preparations etc., but after a quick look, the doc informed me it was nothing to worry about, but it should be removed – and would I like it done now? Uh, well, actually… Anyway, I agreed and was led off to a small room down the corridor, where I was instructed to lie down, injected with something which made my throat numb (somewhat disconcerting when you try to swallow) and scorched with some instrument or other by the quack. In, out, R$300 please. Talk about easy money…

Thirdly, we went to see our friend Charlie play in his blues band Tulipa Negra. The venue was a “genuine Blues bar”. By “genuine”, the owners mean that a) everything in the bar is total junk, including the tables and chairs, and b) substance abuse is de rigeur. But it actually works very well indeed. Between the doped-up bar staff and the strung-out clients, the atmosphere is, well, relaxed (man). The beer is cheap and you don’t need to go through the usual ridiculous charade of queuing to buying a beer token from one inconveniently-placed counter where the staff have no change and then queuing at another equally inconveniently located counter to exchange your token (hell, it’s not even a token – just a piece of paper) for warm beer and a plastic cup. And of course the music was excellent. I was cajoled into singing Black Magic Woman with the band, and I must admit - it was good to be back! They’re after an harmonica player for the band, so I’m practising now and hopefully if I don’t find anything else do to in 2008 at least I can go and get spaced out and play some music on a regular basis.

For Christmas, we’re going across the river to Naice’s parent’s place, where we are in for a quiet day and an early night. And what’s wrong with that, I say. Ozzie will probably accompany us, as he is now feeling better from his tummy bug – see pic of Ozzie recovering in his new bed. Although we’re not buying presents this year, we have in fact got Ozzie a small bone (shhh). Then on New Year’s eve we’re going out with the Cavadini family on a boat trip on an old converted paddle steamer to watch the firework display at the Ponta Negra beach. Meal and beer included; wine and champagne extra. And that’s it for 2007. Roll on 2008.

So let us wish you, your friends and family a very happy Christmas and may 2008 be an excellent year for you. Cheers!

Ozzie

Ozzie has not been well. He got some sort of intestinal infection and started pooing blood all over the place. So it was off to the vet. To cut a long story short, he is now recovering (and here's a photo of he and friend Charlie enjoying themselves last weekend, to prove it...) and becoming his old irritating self once more.

Interestingly, the vet’s solution involved handing us wadges of syringes and needles and asking us to inject him with whatever-it-is every day. For various reasons some of you will be familiar with, I’m no stranger to administering injections, but I do wonder whether this could ever happen in the UK…? Anyway dogs are obviously not as squeamish as us humans, and he was as good as gold. Not so, me: ever since I saw a film where they injected an air bubble into someone to kill them, I spend 10 seconds drawing up 20mls of fluid and then 10 minutes (and about 10mls of fluid) trying to get the air bubbles out of the syringe. Ah well, he survived and is almost back to his old self.

The cause of the problem we have traced to the fertilizer Naice’s mum gave us. Ozzie loves it! Unfortunately, the fertilizer is predominantly chicken crap, which apparently is not good for dogs – so there’s a tip for all you dog-lovers out there. Lay off the chicken shit.

Boo-hisssss...

We had a bit of a to-do with a couple of snakes the other week. In the absence of my I-Spy snake books, and therefore unable to identify the little blighters, I thought I would just shoo them away with a stick (innocent until proved guilty, right?). This was a mistake, I admit. Snakes obviously don’t like being shooed away with sticks (but I had unfortunately left my recorder at Primary School). After a run in with one of them whereby I managed with great difficulty to get myself cornered by the snake (my intentions were quite the contrary, you understand), I managed to flick it out of the way more by luck than judgement, and beat a hasty retreat. Naice then informed me that while I was performing this death-defying feat, the snake’s mate (which I hadn’t noticed) was trying to have a pop at me from behind.

That was the end of my snake-charming efforts, as (quite fortuitously) we had to go across the river to see Naice’s parents). It was only later that day that we had a reasonably positive ID on the little blighters, and were left in no doubt that a) the solution is that you kill them before they kill you; and b) you don’t go at them with a 2ft stick. You beat them over the head with a very looong stick. In short, they’re not very nice at all. Anyway, by the time we got back, they were quite gone - so there we are, I’ve saved another small percentage of the Amazon fauna. Happy days.

Fruit juice and rain

After a bit of a false start, I am assured the wet season is upon us. Too late for a lot of our grass, unfortunately, as the gardener got carried away with the new electric lawnmower we bought and set it so low you could shave with it. Shorn to within an inch (more like a millimetre) of its life, and with no rain for a few weeks, a lot of it has just given up the ghost (where did that expression come from I wonder?).

On the other hand some of the fruit trees (notably papaya – if I never see another papaya it will be too soon) have been tripping over themselves in the rush to produce their remaing fruit, so we’re well stocked with fruit juice.

Alo...?

We have all but spent our meagre savings now, and are casting about for some form of earnings (as well as the guesthouse). This is proving tougher than we thought. I placed an ad (in English) explicitly for "motivated advanced students" and have had at least 20 responses. On the face of it, this is good. Unfortunately they’ve been from complete set of idiots whose knowledge of English is about as advanced as my arse, so most of the conversations went something along the lines of this:

ME: "Hello?"

THEM: "Alo?"

ME: "You wanted to know about English lessons?"

THEM: "Alo?"

ME: "Queria informacaoes sobre as aulas de ingles?"

THEM: "Ah. Sim."

ME: "OK. So can we speak in Emglish?"

THEM: "Alo..?"

Never mind, we’ll think of something. Where did I put that plan 'B'…?

Lago Janauary

On 25th November Naice and I went off to explore Lago Janauary (which it is just sooo tempting to call “Lago January”, but one mustn’t must one?) Due to some communication problems (mine, I am assured), Naice thought we were going fishing, whereas I thought we were going just for the hell of it. After a minor argument in the boat, we left in, um, pensive mood. But all was well in the end, as we reached our destination (about 30km southeast, roughly where the Negro and Solimoes meet) and managed to navigate our way into the lake via a channel which my ecobatimetro told me was only 2ft deep.

Having explored a little, and then stopped at a flutuante for a cold beer, Naice phoned friends Charlie and Annick and we agreed to meet at another flutuante near our marina for lunch. The return trip was done in a little over 75 minutes in somewhat lively water, and a very pleasant lunch was had by all (although I had to eat fish as penance for the earlier misunderstanding. Ah well, better than humble pie, I guess).

The boat has thus done just under 40 hours already, and - touch wood - no problems so far. Long may it continue.

Office

Having completed the guts of the building work at the house, it fell to me to put up a website for the guesthouse. Over a dial-up line this was a tortuous process, taking some 3 weeks (and explaining some of my lack of blogging). It is now complete and I’m in the process of registering it with the search engines at the moment (if anyone knows a website who would be prepared to link to us I’d be very grateful…)

We have also converted the wee store room (it was used for raising puppies – poo-eee!) into a classroom for current and (I hope) future students. It will also serve as the administrative office for the guesthouse (sounds very grand, doesn’t it?). Flushed with the success of the surge protector we put in for the telephone (it’s lasted a month already), we splashed out on one of these new-fangled cordless phones, and today I managed to sort out the (hopelessly wrongly installed) wiring for same, and now we have two working phones. Gosh.

If it all sounds as if it’s going wonderfully well, I should point out that we have had some problems (air conditioner that wouldn’t fit in its hole, floor tiles that refused to clean up, huge holes in ceilings all over the place, a smashed window (as yet not fixed), to name but a few). But that’s all behind us now...

Fishing!

There have been several trips out in the Shamrock since my return. One was a fishing trip to the Rio Cuieiras with friend Luis, although in fact we didn’t make it all the way as the water was a bit rough and we didn’t fancy it much. Instead we stopped off at another igarape and spent 4 totally futile but very pleasant hours getting our lines tangled up, drinking Skol and making sandwiches with our bait. On the way back a thunderstorm was rolling in from the southeast, so we took shelter in another igarape and drank the last of the beer. The storm having passed, we took off into some of the most unpleasant conditions I have experienced so far. Fortunately, some nice chap in a much bigger boat went thundering past and we found that if we stuck 20 or 30 metres or so behind him, he sort of flattened out the waves quite a lot. So about twenty minutes of this later we were almost home. Marvellous.

Equipment

After a lot of consultation, deliberation, and perspiration, all the equipment for the Shamrock has been acquired and installed, to wit: 1 x 12v torch, rechargeable; 1 x torch,waterproof; 1 x first aid kit; 1 horn, electric; 1 x lifebuoy; 6 x lifejackets, 1 x net, lifejackets for the holding of; 1 x anchor, danforth type; 4 x fenders; 1 x water pump, electric; 1 x water pump, manual; 1 x GPS mount; 1 x cigarette lighter (a necessity, honest); 1 x fish finder; 1 x compass, mounted; 1 x whistle; 4 x instruction cards (how to navigate etc); 4 x flares…and lots of rope. Now the boat has to be registered with the port authorities and then I can claim to be on the water all legal, like (not that anyone gives a damn, but I thought I ought to make the effort being a gringo).

The only way is up (baby…)

Whilst it may sad to some, now that I have watched the river hit its peak and trough, I just had to graph it (Hilary will understand). So here it is (as usual, click to enlarge). However, time has moved on a bit, and in fact the current level is just over 19m, which means we still have lots of nice beaches and (alledgedly) some good fishing, but it’s a pain to get anywhere in the boat. I may not be able to provide further updates for a while as my source has dried up (take that any way you wish). I have written stern letters. Anyway, as our trip to Careiro was at 21m, there’s not much to go now before we have a lot more navegabil- um, -ousity-ness.

First things first

Okay, so I’ve been really bad at updating recently. What it boils down to is a) my wanting to include a photo or graphic with my posts and b) the practical difficulties involved in finding same and then posting them up. The net result is delays, frustration, other things happening and a creeping lethargy. So, what I’m going to do in future is try to ensure I post once a week, picture or not. It may be little, it may be pictureless, it may be boring…but I’ll try to keep doing it (after all, writer writes – hey, who said that?).

At last - news of the water levels!

Apologies to all of you who have written complaining about the lack of water-level updates. Fascinatingly, the levels have started rising already (as of 3 days ago), but I am assured by good friend Giancarlo Cavadini here that this is a false start – apparently they rise a little through to mid-November, then go down again, before the true rise begins. To put it all in context, those who were paying attention will have realised that the starting point (the highest level, on the 22nd June) was just over 28m amsl. The low-point reached 3 days ago was just short of 18m. You will also have grasped instantly that this is a flux of around 11m, and the effect is startling. I’ve added a couple of photos of the launch ramp at the marina here – normally these are completely covered by water. I’ll take photos from the same location when the water reaches its highest, for comparison. I can tell you now that taking your boat out at the moment can be a nerve-racking experience. Naice and I went out last Thursday and I had programmed-in what I thought was a safe route going upstream on the Negro, but even though we were a good 300-400m from the river bank, we were still pottering through just 5ft of water. We had to head out a good kilometre before we found the main (200ft+) channel.

It is odd looking directly across to the bank, then up through the trees to see the high-water mark, and some trees are completely covered by water for 6 – 7 months of the year. Anyway, for your edification and general delight, I can now inform you that yesterday’s precise level was 17.81m, and the low point (so far) was 17.74m (on Sunday 28th Ocotober). I was particularly nervous when we visited our local floating bar and the echo-sounder registered less than 3ft of water (although oddly enough after a couple of bottles of Skol with lunch I was somewhat more relaxed when we left).

Home again

On my (belated) return - via Caracas in the end (avoid Caracas unless you particularly like risking your health and possessions and sitting for hours in a dimly-lit, inadequately-serviced air terminal. I think they took the word “terminal” too much to heart, bless them) - I found that Naice had done a sterling job as director of works, and we now have a new electric gate, a new “chapeu de palha”, a new driveway, new furniture and a new toilet seat. Bloody marvellous. There’s still some considerable work to be done mind you, but we’ve definitely completed phase one, and are ready for our first guests – so just let us know when you’re coming, eh? Hopefully the pics here will give you a reasonable idea of what the place looks like now.

I have finally completed wiring the chapeu de palha up to the mains, and am incredibly proud of myself. It took some time, mind you. First of all I wired up all the lights in series (a bit like the old christmas tree lights), but I knew there was something wrong and I lost a lot of sleep over it for a couple of nights until it suddenly dawned on me that if one light blew none of the other ones would work (duh). So I re-did it all…and realised that actually we’d need a plug socket too. So I re-did it all again…and then Naice pointed out that it would be nice (ha ha) not to have one switch for all 5000 bulbs (OK, I exgaggerate), but to be able to switch different sets on independently. So I re-did it all again…and then thought that really what we MUST have is some accent spotlighting on the forest beyond. So I re-did it all and found that my original two-wire (live and neutral, right?) solution had spawned spaghetti of prodigious proportions. Anyway, I finally finished it all in the heat of the midday sun (mad dogs etc) today…and it all works! So, next time you want your house re-wired, just give me a call - I’m cheap (or so people keep telling me).

Naice has two English language students starting with her next week, and is suitably nervous about it (although I know she’ll be really good). This will be our first income, so it’s quite an event, really. If she could get another 20, it would secure my idle boating future! I must say that she did incredibly well, as a non-native speaker, to get the coveted Cambridge CELTA teaching qualification, and she’s going to be great – she just doesn’t know it yet. Anyway, for my part I’m placing an ad in the papers for the next 4 Sundays offering English conversation classes, so we’ll see what comes of that in due course…and of course we have guest facilities ready. I will be posting up the B&B website shortly and we’ll see what the demand is like for this.

Ozzie's constant battle with the Amazon insect population moved into a new phase when Naice got the exterminators in to deal with the tick problem. After applying whatever it is to everything inside and out, he seems to be a lot better, although he has broken out in spots on his back, presumably in relation to some of the flea-powder we were using. Anyway, he's just been clipped again, is in good form and having a ball.

Back online again

It has been a while, I know. This is principally because the Hotel Tropical has done something to its wireless internet connection so that I can’t access it any more. No doubt this isn’t aimed specifically at me, but I’m still taking it personally. We’ve had a few other comms problems since my return. First of all, we’re on our third telephone (and second laptop) as a result of lightning strikes. Not that lightning has struck the house or anything, but obviously the network (or part thereof) that we’re on, isn’t properly protected – so ANY lightning strike within, what, 10 miles? 20 miles? the whole of Brasil? sends a surge down our phone line and blows up whatever is on the end of it (telephone, computer, person etc). We now have a surge protector, although the telephone company’s advice is to unplug the phone when we’re not using it. So apparently we have to add clairvoyance to our list of “new skills we will need” in order to take any incoming calls at all. On top of this, our Brazilian mobiles were blocked from making or receiving international calls for some reason, and we have only just got this sorted out. And really, all in all, I just decided to take my ball home as far as communications was concerned. Anyway, I am now getting back to it, starting with the blog. More about what else has been happening in the next posts.

Curacao Airport

I have taken up temporary residence at Curacao airport, where my Dutch Antilles Express flight is delayed until 20:00 tonight. It is now 16:00. The airport is ok if you don't mind sitting around in plastic seats in the sweltering heat dribbling sweat into your coffee and your shoes.

I contacted Mike and Audrey again yesterday and together we sallied forth to discover hitherto unexplored Curacao. Well, the company may have been good, but the island was, by common consent, a bit disappointing. However I must exhort you all to spend extraordinary sums of money, time and effort to see the hopelessly inaptly-named Playa Grande and the piece-de-resistence, Watamola (although I'm sworn to secrecy regarding what this is, I'm afraid). We did get a nice meal in downtown Wilemstad on the way back, and a quick nightcap (for me, anyway) at Sarifundy's. For those of you thinking of visiting by yacht, please note the picture showing you the way in.

Today was pretty boring, although courtesy of the ubiquitous Discovery Channel, I have now found out how tyres are recycled, how telescopes work, what the SETI programme is doing, and why there is no such thing as free energy. Pity it was all in Spanish, and I fear I may have missed the finer points of quantum kinetics as a result. Muy bien.

I'm looking forward to getting to Caracas only because it's on the way home. To be more precise, I'm looking forward to getting to Caracas in time to get my onward Varig connection at 23:55. If all goes to plan I'll be in Manaus by 02:50 tomorrow. So you can look forward to some water-level updates pretty soon now...

Curacao III

Having got stuck here with nothing much to do, the saving grace has been meeting Michael and Audrey, who have their own yacht (the 38ft ‘Wind Shadow IV’. Boat in pic is similar Windshadow I, I think). Unlike most of the Bangor posers, however, they use it A LOT. To be more precise, they left Canada’s west coast 7 years ago, and have travelled (very roughly) via Hawaii, Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia, the Maldives, South Africa, and Brazil to get to the Carribbean. They are now sheltering here from the hurricane season before deciding whether they can be arsed completing the circumnavigation, which would mean going back to the Pacific via the Panama canal, or just heading off to the Mediterranean for a while before making their way back again towards the Indian Ocean, which is the bit they enjoyed most I think (that and New Zealand). It all rather puts our emigration in the shade, doesn’t it?

Anyway, I liked them as soon as I met them, and after a few shared beers, they seemed able to tolerate me too. The following day, they invited me on to the yacht for dinner, which was fantastic – peppered fillet steak, asparagus and mushrooms all cooked to perfection, and salad. Not only that, but I now know how a wind vane works. We said goodbye that night…

…and then the next day I had to phone them and tell them that actually I was still here. So yesterday we watched the South Africa v Argentina rugby together down at Sarifundy’s floating bar, and perhaps I will see them again today (although I’m a bit embarrassed to contact them yet again, as we have already said our final goodbyes twice). Although what they’ve told me and what I’ve seen has made me think ‘oo – I’d like one of those yacht things, too’, I think Naice and I will have to make Brazil work first! But we did agree that they would let me know where they are on October 14th 2008, and we will fly out to meet them. I did however say that if they end up in Belfast, the deal’s off – nothing against dear old Belfast, but while it might be fun to fly to the Maldives or the Med. for a week or so, I really couldn’t get quite as worked up about Norn Iron. Anyway Mike and Audrey, if you read this – thanks again for everything, and hope to see you in a year’s time!

Curacao II

It is now Monday lunchtime…and I’m still in Curacao – and will be until tomorrow evening. This is the result of TAF airlines cancelling (ceasing totally) the Curacao – Manaus flights. Naice found this out on Saturday when she contacted them to confirm the flight. So now I’m having to go Curacao – Caracas with Dutch Antilles Express (DAE) and catch a connection with Varig from Caracas to Manaus at 23:55 tomorrow night. As you might imagine, I am somewhat peeved about this, particularly as it has now cost me roughly an extra US$1400. Anyway, I’ve now booked and confirmed the flights, so all looks good for tomorrow.

Curacao

Here I am in Curacao. It’s Wednesday and the sun is shining on my wee beach-side apartment. Also the mosquitoes are out in force and driving me scatty. The flight here by KLM was excellent, possibly because it was a daytime flight (the LHR – SP run is always overnight) and at less than 10 hours is a good 1.5hrs shorter than the ones we’re used to. Getting out of the airport was a bit of a disaster, as all baggage is screened on the way out, even though you elect the “nothing to declare” channel. Doesn’t matter what nationality you are or how long you’re staying or how shifty you look – you have to have your bags screened. They’ll have to do something about this.

Anyway, Curacao, from what I can see, is typically Carribbean – why do anything if you don’t have to – and hot and sunny. It benefits from a pretty stiff (but warm) westerly sea breeze and I’m reliably informed isn’t affected by hurricanes. Good. I haven’t done anything yet (I’m feeling a bit lonely and missing Naice), except visit the local supermarket. As well as there being a lot of South American stuff in there, the service is as pathetic as it is in Brazil (although at least the checkout conveyor belts work, whereas they never do in Brazil – you have to push your stuff along yourself).

The local language (‘Papiamento’) is totally incomprehensible to any right-thinking person, but fortunately just about everyone also speaks Dutch and English - and a bit of Spanish to boot. My shopping for the week cost me US$75, which isn’t bad as this included 12 cans of Heineken, and will last me until Saturday (I hope).

The apartments – at Limestone Holiday – are basic but quite OK, and are air-conditioned, but the beach is tiny and lies at one end of a tidal lake (no sweeping vistas across the sea or anything). They are also at the East end of the island, which is residential, whereas most hotels are at the Western end, where the beaches are supposed to be much better. Never mind. It’s also quite expensive for what it is, so goodness knows how much they charge at t’other end.

I have started into the Ozzie book now, and will use this time to get at least 5 hours writing done each day between now and Saturday. I’m hoping this will get me over the critical hump where you just keep re-starting the book over and over again. I’ve also noticed that Ozzie has started his own dog blog, “The Dog’s Blogbits”, but he obviously doesn’t know I know, so let’s keep it between ourselves, shall we? Now I must go and do some more writing…

It's Sunday - it must be Scunthorpe

After being escorted to Belfast International airport in style by Victoria and Mike (I think they just wanted to make sure I got on the flight!), I was off to "the mainland" again. The flight to East Midlands was remarkable only in so far as we took off and arrived early, and I had a bank of 3 seats to myself, with extra legroom from sitting next to the emergency exit. Bliss. Dawn was there to pick me up and drive me the 80 miles back to Sunny Scunny, which I have to say is above and beyond the call of duty (although no doubt I'll never hear the end of it...). The weather (aargh - I'm talking about the weather) has been magnificent, Garry and Dawn's hospitality faultless as always, and in spite of missing those I've left behind (again), I've enjoyed my weekend very much. In fact after discovering Ice Cold Tetley's best bitter at the local pub, I did briefly consider just staying here forever, but once I sobered up I realised I'd miss Naice and Ozzie too much - so farewell Mr Tetley (well, let's just say au revoir, shall we?)

Tomorrow I will be last-minute-shopping for some socks and marmite, and buying some dollars ready for the off early on Tuesday morning.

Goodbye again

Here we go again. It feels like all I've done in the last 6 months is say goodbye. Apart from the rather sad reason for my visit, I have enjoyed my 3 weeks in sunny Bangor. As well as seeing a lot of people again - nearly all of whom it was a pleasure to catch up with - I've had the chance to get a few bits and pieces to take back with me (light bulbs, picture hooks and a kettle amongst them) and put on a bit of weight (must be the dairy products).

Unfortunately I didn't bring my camera with me on this trip, and so don't have much in the way of photos (I understand many of my readers just like looking at the pictures - shame on you), and it would be nice to post a few pics from some of the highlights of the trip (Hilary's leaving do, for example, if someone could e-mail me some?) And herewith a pic from my last night, which was great fun, spent in the company of my sister Victoria, cousin Michael "it's a disgrace" Downing, and old comrade Rabea Garari - all of whom I shall miss and expect to come out to visit us sometime. In fact I'm hoping quite a few people will come out to visit us sometime - after all, the guest house is nearing completion (pic), and it's only a hop skip and a jump to Manaus.

Anyway, thanks to all who have put up with me once again (especially Victoria and Mike). It has been good to chill out here (literally), and my Aunt seems to be as well as can be expected, so I can leave with a slightly lighter load than that with which I arrived (well, except for the kettle and the retractable clothes line). But now I must pack up and shove off to Scunthorpe, en route to sunnier climes. Poor friends Garry and Dawn will have to put up with me for a few days before I catch the early morning flight to Amsterdam, but I'll try to be on my best behaviour for them. More later.

Still raining, then...

I'm back in Ireland for a few weeks (until 4th October). I'm gratified to note that the weather is much as it was when I left, and that people still don't understand the meaning of two lanes on a dual carriageway, and still drive all the way from Belfast to Bangor in the outside lane because they're turning right down the Rathgael Road.

The journey here was, as usual, extremely tedious - made doubly so by an 8 hour wait at Sao Paulo airport. The journey time from Manaus to SP has been cut again, and is now under 4 hours, while the flight to London is nearly 11 hours. BMI charged me £158 to get me back to Belfast, which wasn't very nice of them, especially as there were spare seats around. On the way back I'm going via East Midlands so I can see friends Dawn and Garry, and then flying from Humberside to Amsterdam KLM, Amsterdam to Curacao KLM and Curacao to Manaus TAF. Although I've screwed things up a bit and have to stay in Curacao a few days, the cost of the trip is around £650, which is at least £150 less than going via Sao Paulo. And the flights are shorter - hooray!

I can't update you on the river levels in the Amazon I'm afraid (I know, I know - I'm sorry, okay?), as I can't re-find the site I was using. But you can be sure it's gone down a lot by now.

Naice is at home in Manaus, and has been saddled with coping with the builders who are in re-constructing our driveway and putting in a new gate and a chapeu de palha (pic). I feel very guilty about this, but the trip was necessary, I feel. Naice is hoping to be back in Ireland herself early next year.

I have not by any means been good at getting in touch with everyone so far. This is simply because I'm a disorganised git and I hope you will forgive me. I'm concentrating my inadequate organisational skills on my aunt for the moment, and will rectify any communications problems next week - please bear with me.

Hit Counter

Following a suggestion from my friend George Crawford, I have managed to add a hit counter to the site (see right), based on a Bravenet utility. Since this has cost me 50 bucks, I hope it will be worth it!! It was zeroed at midnight today/last night (16th September), so let's see how many visitors we have over the next few months...

Quick Trip report

The boat trip to Manaquiri went well. The only things of note (apart from the fantastic scenery, the birds and the fish), were: 1) when we nearly ran aground on a sandbank on the Solimoes. It was only that I noticed this bloke walking about in the middle of the river and figured that something wasn’t quite right, that disaster was narrowly avoided; 2) the planned entrance to Manaquiri doesn’t exist when the water level’s down 5 metres, so we had some trouble locating an alternative; and 3) on the way back, with the motor fully run in, we achieved a top speed of just short of 50kph, which is pretty good. The outward journey took us 9 hours; the return journey took 5.75. Oh, and since I fitted a sonar transponder on the back of the boat, the steering is all over the place, leaving me with a fairly sore left arm from trying to stop the boat skidding to the left – must fix this on my return from the UK. This also meant I didn’t get much time to take photos, so I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with these three. The last one is a backward glance at our original destination, Careiro do Castanho, as we were leaving to return to Manaus. Sorry – will do better next time.

…And speaking of the UK, as a lot of you will know I’ll be in town for a few weeks from this Wednesday (12th September) and will no doubt see you then. Whether I update the blog or not during this time will depend to a large extent on whether I have a computer and connection, whether there’s anything interesting to report, and whether I’m sober enough to type it if there is.

River levels

No, I’m not going to quote the level. I heard on the news today that river levels are not expected to fall as low as last year, and the forecast is for the lowest point in 2007 to be approximately 60cm higher than 2006. No doubt this is important to someone somewhere, but in the grand scheme of things (10 – 15 metres?), I didn’t really think it was that significant. Maybe it’s like talking about the weather in the UK or something. Anyway, I will now be paying close attention to the final low point and in the event of an inaccurate forecast will chastise the forecasters roundly (letter to the Times, or at least the A Critica, which would be the local equivalent), I think.

Blecaut!

The word ‘blecaut’ is the Brazilian portuguese version of ‘blackout’, and refers to the Brazilian electricity companies’ policy of suddenly disconnecting whole districts from the grid so that they can change a fuse or a bulb or something down at the local substation, and which is why I am writing this blog in the dark: for the past 3 or 4 days we have been subject to the dreaded blecaut 5 or 10 times a day, and (of course) always at night. It used to be worse, as I recall, and I remember some 10 or so years ago the energy crisis in Amazonas was so bad they hired a generator ship (a very weird looking thing indeed) to come all the way from the US (or Canada?) to bolster the city’s supply. Nowadays, there is no energy crisis in Manaus, except of course when Manaus Energia just turns you off when it feels like it.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the power surge that sometimes accompanies reconnection wasn’t sufficient to blow up your new TV/aircon/fridge/computer etc. But it is. So can you run the risk? No. So not only do you get to wake up in the middle of the night (sweating profusely from lack of aircon), but then you have to run round unplugging everything before you’re reconnected again. And then when the power comes on, you have to run round plugging everything in again so your food doesn’t go off (unlike the power - arf), and you don’t steam in your bed. After the fifth time, this gets a little trying, to say the least, prompting me to put irate digit to battery-powered keyboard in protest. Hah! - let that be a lesson to them.

Knees Up

When I first saw my father’s white, hairless legs, it was quite a shock. ‘Is this my destiny, too?’ I wondered, at the tender age of twenty something. Was I also doomed to roam the world’s beaches with a pair of white, shiny knees? Well, I’m very pleased to report that after only a few months of wearing shorts all the time (a few short months, indeed…), I now not only have a fine pair of tanned pins (IMHO), but without the constant friction of material on leg, even my knees have a growing covering of manly hair. Hooray for shorts, I say.

At last...

It has just occurred to me why people have been missing the blog updates - it's obviously because I have been failing with my updates with respect to the water levels. Well, I can now inform you that the level currently stands at 23.66m, down just less than 5m from its peak on 23rd June (28.18m), and is descending at the rate of 17cm per day now. So there you are - you can rest easy again.

Don't worry - more updates soon!

Malaria and us

We had the malaria police around today. Where we live is a foco de malaria (malaria hotspot), and we are subject to weekly visits from the malaria police, who advise about what to do or not do during this particular season. As the water level goes down, shallow pools of water are left, which are the mozzie’s favourite breeding grounds, so the quantity of malaria – and dengue – carrying mozzies goes up. So – no leaving buckets of water around (or anything else that could hold any still water at all). And no going out between 05:30 and 07:00 or 17:00 and 18:30 (favourite time for mozzies), unless you’re fully covered up (bit of a joke in 85 degrees), and make sure that if you have any fever you inform the doc asap, telling him or her that you live in a foco de malaria.

Of course white gringos are more susceptible than most to bites, as mozzies just love soft white skin to get their teeth (or whatever) into, and I can personally testify to their tastes. Fortunately, it is only the anopheles mosquito – and then only the female – that’s a carrier, so there’s hope for us yet (although of course it’s quite impossible to tell which is anopheles and which is female without considerable scrutiny (do you put them on their backs and look up their bottoms or something…?) Perhaps the photo here - as supplied by the Institut Pasteur - is of some help - ha ha. Anyway, we are taking heed of all the advice and hopefully will escape both malaria and dengue (but of course if I get it, you’ll be the first to know…)

Exploring the Amazon – Part I

Apologies and many thanks to all who have written complaining about the lack of blog updates. I haven’t been feeling very bloggish lately, but have decided the show must go on, so I’m going to kick off again with news of my first trip in Shamrock. If you’re not much into boating, you can probably skip this and await the next blog item; but if you’re interested in coming to the Amazon and (eventually) visiting the floating bar, you might like to see what you’re up against. You can get some idea of it from the pic., I hope (click to enlarge). It’s a 200km jaunt from the Marina Rio Bello (at top) to the proposed location of the flutuante (Careiro do Castanho -LCROM, at bottom), via the Rio Negro and the Rio Solimoes (or Amazon, if you prefer, although technically it’s not called the Amazon until the former two rivers join, at the “encontro das aguas” , seen upper right, with the two rivers running side-by-side for some distance).

I’m taking Flavio, a friend of ours, along for the journey, and hopefully we can do it in around 6 - 7 hours, depending on conditions. The problem is the low level of the water, and the trickiest part will be the stretch from the jungle town of Manaquiri (MQ in the pic.) and LC46 (sorry - it’s just a waypoint name). In particular the little igarape, or stream, connecting Lago Manaquiri (stretch between MQ and Ig LC N) and and Lago do Castanho (LC46 to LCROM) may be un-navigable, or possibly only navigable with local knowledge, whereas we’re relying on a Garmin GPS60, a Google Earth screendump (pretty much as per pic, but with more waypoints) and a lot of luck. But it may just not be possible, in which case we’ll turn tail and run back, at least as far as Manaquiri, to reconsider.

The motor is now 50% run-in, allowing a top speed of around 38kph in ideal conditions, but if we encounter one of the frequent thunderstorms en route we’ll have to run for cover and tie up somewhere to wait it out (the wind and rain can whip the Negro and Solimoes into the equivalent of a fairly energetic sea, given that the breadth of the rivers can be just over 6 miles – much too much for Shamrock and el Capitan). And the speed at which this can happen is pretty impressive. Even our friend Charlie with his pocket battleship Sammy III doesn’t venture onto either of these rivers in a thunderstorm, and another friend of ours, John Harwood, has already lost a boat in these conditions, doing a run between Manaus and Cacau Pireira on the south bank. They clung to barrels of petrol for a couple of hours before being rescued, which left John with some serious petrol burns on his chest and arms.

So there we are. We’re all set to leave at 06:00 on Thursday 6th September, with a newly serviced engine and 100 litres of fuel. If we make it there, we’ve arranged to secure the boat at a government flutuante near Careiro do Castanho, and sleep over at the local hostel, returning on Friday (all organised by Naice’s brother Romulo, for which many thanks). I’ll post events and pics on the blog in due course.

Sad news

I found out yesterday evening (21st) that my uncle, Tom Davison, passed away on Monday night, two days before his 90th birthday. This is very sad (if not unexpected) news, and we shall miss him greatly. As little as 18 months ago I was playing rhythm guitar to his violin, and helping him master his computer (which he did, spending some considerable time converting himself from paper-based to digital photography - and conversing with friends and relatives around the world). He was interested in everything and everybody, and remained as sharp as a pin to the end. If I live to the age of 89, I hope I shall be as proactive, energetic, inquisitive, eloquent, indomitable – and bloody-minded - as my Uncle Tom proved to be. Over the last few months before we left for Brazil, we had some pretty profound and frank conversations, and although we didn’t see eye-to-eye on everything, I certainly felt an empathy with his constant search for meaning in life, the universe and everything, and I hope he may have found some answers in the last weeks.

My uncle leaves his wife, my Auntie Margaret, and our hearts go out to her. I’m disappointed not to be able to be at the funeral, which I learned is to be tomorrow (Thursday 23rd), but I am expecting to be in Ireland by 12th September and to see her then.

Nothing is forever.

Water level

Water down to 25.57m (22nd August), in spite of a run of inclement weather which has kept temperatures down to a cool 84 degrees (76 degrees in the evening at one point – enough to make you think of pulling on a long-sleeved shirt).

Captain’s log, 21.08.07

6.45 hours logged in the new boat now, the longest single-handed voyage being yesterday (21st), when el Capitan took Shamrock 11km up the Taruma, back to the marina and then south to the mouth of the Taruma. All was sweetness and light until approaching the Negro, when the combination of a stiff southerly breeze and the currents from the confluence of the two rivers chopped the water up and made things a bit uncomfortable. Exercising my discretion, I chose to turn round and run away. Total trip time, per my wonderful Garmin GPS60, was 1hr 53mins (moving time 1hr 48 mins). Only another 3.55 hours to do until I can push the motor to 4500 rpm, which should improve my top speed so far of 20kph. I can’t wait.
All this is small potatoes to my cousin Anton Maguire, who I am proud to say is currently contemplating a round the world yacht race. But then of course he is obviously quite mad (and considerably more skilled, knowledgeable and experienced…).

Life in Manaus

With most of our traumas now over, it ocurred to me recently that this is really the end of chapter one for us and our new life - we have come, we have seen and we are bonkers. Seriously, we have achieved most of our original aims (i.e. we’re here and reasonably well organised), apart from the flutuante. Now, after the climax of it all (as it were), we need to stir ourselves and think what we’re going to do with our new life. The money won’t last that long (not the way we’re spending it, anyway), and we really need to find some form of income at some point. We are still spending a lot of money on the house (electrician to do the wiring, buying a new gate and other security items, building a few walls here and there, buying a dining table, chairs and a sofa, and so on). We have completely overshot our original budget for the house, but on the other hand we could not have found anywhere better, and are very happy here.

But like I said, what now…? So far, there’s the Wisdom of Oz, which I’m still working on (and may still be working on in 10 years time), and we’re considering putting our faces around the English language teaching/ translating community in earnest in due course. We looked at setting up an export company, but there’s not much point unless you have something to export, and so far we don’t (although I’m going to the annual trade fair tomorrow to see what’s on offer); and of course there’s the B&B option (but this is unlikely to bring in enough money to even keep the house going). And the floating bar will almost certainly have to wait now, possibly until early 2009. Hmmm.

And then of course there’s the question of adoption, which was one of the prime motives for the move in the first place. Unfortunately this too requires some sort of income, before we even register our interest (one of the first questions is ‘how will you support the child?’, and no doubt ‘We don’t know, but we have a lovely house.’ just isn’t going to cut it).

So. Chapter 2 begins. How it will end, we don’t know. But as usual you can read all about it here (if you’re the masochistic sort).