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).