Monday, September 25, 1995 - Curaco

We've learned to take the eight or nine o'clock bus. There's no ten o'clock, and if we wait for the eleven, we don't have much time to shop before all the stores close for siesta. So Roy rushed this morning and caught the eight o'clock. I took my time and caught the nine. Roy carried the twenty-five pound alternator from one shop to another, trying to get it tested and to find out how to hook it up. He didn't have much success, but he got a few clues. I mailed a bunch of letters, and then tried to phone Radio Shack. This time, someone answered. She said Radio Shack had closed. She'd sold all the printer ribbons and didn't have any relays. She told me I could get a relay at Jimmy's Electronics. I went to an ATM, confident that by now the communications problem would have been taken care of. It wasn't. I was down to my last fifteen guilders, so I went in a bank to see if I could get a cash advance on my Mastercard. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought to bring any ID with me, so I couldn't get it. Walked over to the public library. I thought the sign said it opened at ten. It was 9:55, so I waited five minutes. The door opened, and I started to go in, but a security guard stopped me and said the library didn't open until two. I took another look at the sign. Sure enough, on Mondays it opens at two. Every other day, it opens at ten. Rode a bus out to where I'd been told I could get the polyfoam brushes I wanted. To my surprise, I saw a building with a sign that said "Radio Shack". I thought, "Wow! I've found it!" The ground floor of the building was an appliance store. I walked completely around the building, looking for the entrance to Radio Shack, but the only entrance was to the appliance store. The cashier told me Radio Shack was through the store and around the corner, but when I got there, the clerk said Radio Shack was no more. They didn't have printer ribbons. They had relays, but not the kind Roy wanted, so I left without getting anything. Crossed the street to an ATM and tried again. Still communications problems. Hard to believe. Walked three or four blocks up the street to the paint and hardware store that was supposed to have polyfoam brushes. To my amazement, they actually had them! I was almost completely out of money, so I only bought four. Returned to the ATM. Still nothing. Frustrating. Drank a chocolate shake at the brand new McDonald's and tried again. Zilch. Took a minibus to Otrobanda and tried the ATM there. Same results. Strolled up to the Super Jumbo Colon Market and bought a package of chicken with the little money I had left. Jimmy's Electronics was closed for siesta, so it didn't matter that I didn't have the money for a relay anyway. Kept trying ATM after ATM. Nada. This is really disgusting. At two, I went to the library. The latest issue of the New York Times that they had was dated September 11th. Roy was waiting on the 2:15 bus when I got there, so we returned together. Roy tried out the new alternator again. As usual, it didn't work. He went over to the marina to try to find out the location of an alternator repair shop. He ended up talking with an electronic engineer (the same one who refused to work on the VHF.) The engineer agreed to look at the alternator at 7:30 tomorrow morning.

Sunday, September 24, 1995 - Curaco

Roy needed a day off from working on the boat, so we rode the bus to Santa Cruz. (Yes, there's a Santa Cruz in Cura‡ao.) In fact, we went past Santa Cruz to Playa Lagun, because it's closer to the beach. We were really out in the country on this trip. Everything was very green. There were even some REAL TREES. First we've seen growing wild in a long time. They were so big they overhung the road and made a lovely shade. We were going to eat lunch at a place that had a sign out front that said "Restaurant", but the restaurant was closed, so we walked up the road a short distance to a little snack bar. The menu was in Papiamento, so we played it safe and ordered ice cream. Unfortunate- ly, they only had one cup of ice cream left, so Roy gave it to me. He ate a small can of peanuts and drank a Pepsi. After eating, we walked back to the beach. Playa Lagun is a rock-rimmed cove with a small, sandy beach, about a hundred feet long. The water is clear blue. Even out at the entrance, where it must be fifteen or twenty feet deep, the water's so clear you can count the rocks on the bottom. We thoroughly enjoyed our little swim. The return bus was due at 4:06, but the drivers on this island seem to leave whenever they feel like it, so Roy said we should be at the stop by quarter to four. It's a good thing he did, because the bus arrived at ten till. I was so engrossed in the novel I was reading, I didn't pay any attention when Roy said the bus was coming. He had to tell me two or three times before I looked up and was astonished to see the bus bearing down on us. It's a good thing we caught it; there wouldn't have been another bus for two hours, and we'd have gotten back to the boat in the pitch dark. Instead, we got there at six o'clock. Very pleasant day.

Saturday, September 23, 1995 - Curaco

Roy found a shop that removed the pulley, and he found a lot of people who told him how to hook it up. Trouble is, each one told him something different. He tried installing it, but it didn't work, so Monday, he has to start all over again. I tried four times to get money from an ATM, but each time it said there were communication problems. Also tried to find Radio Shack, but didn't succeed in that, either. No one answered the phone when I called to ask them where they were. Flagged a Santa Rosa minibus to go to the Marchena Hardware Store on Santarosaweg. The driver asked me where I wanted to go. When I told her Marchena Hardware, she said, "Oh, yes. That's in Santa Rosa." I said, "Yes, that's why I took a Santa Rosa bus." I laughed a little to take some of the edge off the sarcasm, but I think the message got through. The store didn't have the brushes I wanted, but I bought a sponge. Then I walked a couple of blocks to Centrum Supermarket and bought some good vegetables. When I got back to Punda, there sat Roy at the bus terminal, so we returned to the boat together.

Friday, September 22, 1995 - Curaco

Did another load of laundry at the marina. As usual, it took four hours and cost sixteen guilders. Everybody and his brother were trying to wash their clothes, but I managed to squeeze in. Started the washer and took a shower, figuring the clothes would be ready for the dryer by the time I was through, but they hadn't even started to get damp. Turned out the hot-water button no longer works; you have to use the warm-water button, so I lost half an hour, but eventually they got done. I'm very glad this is my last load of wash at this place. October first, the marina is raising the weekly rate from four guilders to thirty guilders. Glad we'll be gone by then. Roy went downtown and bought a larger alternator, but when he got back to the boat, he couldn't remove the pulley, so now he has to take it back and try to get a refund, or try to find someone who can show him how to take it apart.

Thursday, September 21, 1995 - Curaco

Since the propane stove is out of commission, and with part of the alternator missing we have to run the engine for two hours to use the microwave for 15 minutes, we decided to take the nine-o'clock bus downtown and eat breakfast at McDonald's. We needed to go downtown anyway, as I had letters to mail and copies to make, and we wanted to find the way to the Santa Rosa Machine Shop. Got to the bus stop in plenty of time. Mailed my letters and ate delicious scrambled eggs at McDonald's. This time, Roy listened to me, and we got on a minibus to Santa Rosa. Sure enough, there was the Santa Rosa Machine Shop, right on Santarosaweg as I figured it would be. It's very easy to get to; the bus stops right at the door. On the way back, I stopped at the copy center, and Roy continued on to Wimco to see if they might have the part for the propane stove. They didn't, so he crossed the street to Wellman to buy some more Chevron Delo 400 motor oil. Then he went to Burger King for a cup of coffee. In the meantime, I had gotten my copies made and returned to Punda on a minibus. Just as the minibus was approaching the bus terminal, I saw the Spanish Water trolley-bus pulling out, so I figured Roy was on it. Having nearly an hour to wait, I walked over to the Tourist Information Office to get a bunch of free newspapers. Then I took the 11:30 bus back to Spanish Water. To my astonishment, Roy's Royak was still on the beach! He hadn't been on the 10:30 bus after all. The two Royaks were chained to the fence, and Roy had the key. So there I was, with no way to get back to the boat until Roy arrived. I thought of swimming, but I didn't want to get my papers wet, so I wandered up the road as far as the gate to the petroleum tank farm. Then I walked back to the bus stop and sat on a bench, wondering what I should do if Roy weren't on the one-o'clock bus. There's no two-o'clock bus, so I'd have a two-hour wait if he weren't on that one. Fortunately, he was, so he unlocked the Royaks and we returned to the boat. After lunch, Roy caught the three-o'clock bus back downtown so he could go to the machine shop and get the part he had had made.

Wednesday, September 20, 1995 - Curaco

Roy took the alternator part to Wellman early in the morning. The pulley fit, so he bought it. Then he went to a machine shop to get something-or-other made. An old man from Wellman drove him there and back, which was certainly nice. Roy gave him 20 guilders. I went on the grocery run and bought chicken and stuff. The bus wasn't nearly as crowded as it usually is, thank goodness. I always feel stupid, sitting there like a dummy while everyone else is yakking away in Dutch and German and French and who knows how many other languages. A great many people from Holland come here on their boats, since this is part of the Dutch kingdom. Our propane stove has sprung a leak, so in the afternoon, Roy took the defective part to the marine-supply store to see if he could get a replacement. He also wanted to find out how to get back to the machine shop, since he has to go there tomorrow afternoon to pick up the thing he's having made. He had the silly notion he could get there by walking a mile or so from the marine-supply store. I kept telling him the Santa Rosa Machine Shop would be on Santarosaweg, and he should take a Santa Rosa bus to get there. He kept saying that just because the place was called "Santa Rosa Machine Shop", that didn't mean it was in Santa Rosa. So he took his walk and didn't find it. Also, the marine-supply store didn't have the part he needed.

Tuesday, September 19, 1995 - Curaco

What a disappointment! I was so proud, because I had finally figured out how to get weirdo characters like c sedilla (‡) and n tilde (¤) accepted by the word processor AND how to get the printer to print them correctly. For the latter, I had to send an escape sequence to the printer. I stupidly assumed that changed the printer permanently to Character Set 2. The initial printing of the log, for proofreading purposes, came out perfectly. Then I turned the printer off to insert a new ribbon. It never once crossed my mind that I would have to send the escape sequence again after turning the printer back on. This morning, when I looked at the beautifully printed log, I saw that all the c sedillas were missing. The printer had automati- cally returned to Character Set 1. Cura‡ao came out "Curaao". I had to go through with a pen and insert the c sedillas. But the n tildes came out okay. To increase my sorrow, when I reread the printer manual, I saw that I could have permanently changed the character set by flipping a switch on the bottom of the printer. I'll do that next time I have the printer out. Otherwise, this was my lucky day. Got my mail from Kathy and also got a letter from Marilyn. Turned in a change-of-address card. Took the log to a copy center and had nine copies run off, double-sided. Stuck them in envelopes and mailed them. Now all my business is finished, so we can leave for Bonaire as soon as Roy's business is finished. Roy wasn't quite so lucky. He went to Wellman to try to get a pulley for the alternator. They had one that may or may not work. Roy's going to have to take off part of the alternator and take it down there to see if the pulley will fit. He'll do that tomorrow morning. Rode the bus over the high bridge again. Took a good look at Schottegat and realized I was totally out of my tree last month when I said the harbor here was as big as San Francisco Bay. The whole island is only 38 miles long, so you couldn't possibly fit San Francisco Bay on it. In fact, if you dropped Schottegat into San Francisco Bay, it would scarcely make a ripple. I've been away too long; I've forgotten what places look like.

Monday, September 18, 1995 - Curaco

Went to the Sugar Garden and bought a bunch of groceries. Then I went to the post office to get my mail, which I was sure would be here by now. It wasn't. We had hoped to leave for Bonaire tomorrow, but we can't leave until the mail arrives. When I got back to the boat, I printed 31 pages of the log. Will take them downtown tomorrow to copy and mail.

Sunday, September 17, 1995 - Curaco

We worked on the boat all day. Roy installed an air intake in the engine compartment, and I put another coat of varnish on the rubrail. Roy surprised me by fixing supper. He made a big bowl of beans and chicken. Very good.

Saturday, September 16, 1995 - Curaco

Roy tested the new washdown pump, and it worked perfectly. It's about time. Went on the ten-o'clock grocery run and bought a bunch of stuff. After we returned the groceries to the boat, we took six diesel jugs and the two water jugs to the fuel dock and filled them. Ferried them back to the boat in three trips. Nice calm day for it. Ate lunch and relaxed. I paddled around a while, and Roy installed a new blower to cool the refrigerator. A totally unexpected squall hit around 8 p.m. Gusts to 35, continual lightning flashes, thunder, and drenching rain. Wouldn't you know, we'd just brought 30 gallons of water from the fuel dock! We could have easily filled the tank with rainwater. Roy and I ran around closing portholes and hatches. Then we even got out the cockpit curtains and put them up after a fashion. They did a good job of keeping most of the rain out, even though we had them on the wrong sides. The temperature dropped ten degrees or more. It was almost cold. The wind and rain gave us a wonderful respite from mosquitoes, but it only lasted a few hours. Then we were back to dead calm and the itchies.

Friday, September 15, 1995 - Curaco

It's dead calm again. Every time there's a hurricane up north, it slurps up all the wind for hundreds of miles around. The calm would be ok if it weren't for the mosquitoes. When the wind's blowing, they can't reach the boat, but as soon as it calms, here come the wretched, abominable, voracious monsters. We spray, we smear on repellent, we burn smudgepots, but they devour us anyway. The only thing that seems to really help is to have an electric fan blowing directly on us. But with no wind to turn the wind generator, the batteries run down. In addition to the mosquitoes, there are hundreds of teensy weensy, almost invisible flies that seem to bite also. At best, they're annoying. We'll sure be glad when the hurricane season's over. So will a lot of other people, of course, although for different reasons. Went down to the post office expecting to get my mail, but to my disappointment, it wasn't here. We had hoped to leave Tuesday, but we can't leave until the mail gets here. I spent the rest of the day riding buses around to see some of the island. Took a bus to Rooi Santu and Fuik. Turned out to be in back of Spanish Water. I got to see the far side of Phosphate Mountain. When I got back to Punda, I ate lunch at McDonald's, picked up the newspapers at the Tourist Information Office, and rode a minibus around the "Ring". That's the set of streets that goes around the inner harbor. I was amazed by the size of the refinery here. It's a lot bigger than the one in San Nicolas on Aruba. It must be as big as the Chevron refinery in Richmond. It just goes on and on. I was hoping to take a bus that went along the coast, but I didn't know which one, so I got on the first bus to leave. It headed inland, but after a few miles, it turned towards the coast. When I saw water, I stupidly got off, thinking it was a bay, but it was nothing but a big pond. I walked down the road for two or three miles, looking for the sea. I knew it had to be out there someplace, but all I could see were hills and trees and bushes and cactus. Then I finally got to the top of a hill and saw the sea in front of me. I expected to find beaches and refreshment stands, but there weren't any. The coast all around the bay consisted of steep cliffs, so I gave up and returned to the bus stop. Got there just in time to catch a bus into town. Got off at the Super Jumbo Colon Market and bought some chicken. Since I was very thirsty, I also bought a pint of orange-pineapple juice. When I got to the bus terminal, I began drinking the juice while waiting for my bus. To my amazement and disgust, two beggars came up and asked for a drink of my juice! Being asked for money is bad enough, but to be asked for my juice! I couldn't believe it. The bus took me over the high bridge. What a terrific view! Got to Spanish Water before 6:30, so I was able to get home before it was pitch dark. Roy had taken the pump back to the store and exchanged it for another new one. I sure hope this one works.

Thursday, September 14, 1995 - Curaco

Roy went downtown bright and early to phone his daughter Laura and wish her Happy Birthday. I went on the ten-o'clock grocery run. I was the only one on it! Told the driver I'd be ready to return in half an hour. I was ready in twenty minutes. Half an hour went by -- no bus. Forty minutes went by -- no bus. Saw Roy zipping by on the big bus. It was after eleven by the time I finally got a ride back to the marina. After lunch, I took the laundry to the marina. For once, no one was using either washer. I only had one load. To my amazement, the water pressure was up! The water gushed into the washer, instead of dripping in one drop at a time as it usually does. By the time I'd taken my shower, the clothes were washed and rinsed and nearly ready for the dryer. When I got back to the boat, Roy had gone into town again. He bought a new speaker for the handheld VHF. Now it works better than ever. But when he tested the new washdown pump, it quit working after a few minutes! This is really disgusting. That was a brand new pump.

Wednesday, September 13, 1995 - Curaco

Roy wanted to work on the boat, and he always likes to have me out of the way, so I disappeared. I'd been wanting to go on another ten- kilometer walk at Christoffel Park. Long-distance walking isn't one of Roy's favorite forms of recreation, so I figured this was my ideal opportunity. My plan was to catch the seven-o'clock bus from Spanish Water, get downtown about 7:15, liberate some cash from an ATM, eat breakfast at McDonald's, and catch the eight-o'clock bus to the park. That would get me there by quarter to nine, while it was still fairly cool and give me plenty of time to walk around. I got up a couple of minutes before six, rushed like crazy, and actually managed to catch the seven-o'clock bus. It hadn't occurred to me there might be rush-hour traffic on Cura‡ao. As soon as the bus got on the highway, it was trapped in endless crawling traffic. By the time I got downtown, it was too late to eat breakfast. Stopped at an ATM on my way to Otrobanda. The machine was weird. It said, "I want to give you 50's, 25's, and 10's. Would you rather have all 100's? Yes or No." If there was anything I didn't want, it was 100's, so I answered, "No." It gave me two 100's and two 50's. Oh, well, at least I got a couple of 50's. Got to the bus terminal in Otrobanda about ten till eight. Saw a bus that said "Westpunt", which was the one I needed. Waited until the driver showed up. But when I went to get on it, a supervisor told me the next Westpunt bus was at nine o'clock! I showed him the schedule that listed an eight-o'clock bus, but he said that had changed. So all my rushing was in vain. Well, at least now I had time to eat breakfast. Got to the bridge just as the bell was ringing. I thought, "Great. Now I've got to ride the ferry across, and it isn't even at the dock, so it will take forever," but to my surprise, the bridge opened just enough to let a small boat through and then it immediately closed again, so in a few minutes, I was at McDonald's. The breakfast was surprisingly good. Had delicious scrambled eggs, an English muffin, and orange juice. So I guess it was just as well there was no eight-o'clock bus. Finally got to the park. Thought I'd be able to get in for half price again, but the woman insisted I pay the full 15 guilders. I wouldn't have gone if I'd known I'd have to pay the full amount. Followed the road to Zevenbergen. Passed an old copper mine, where there was still a hole in the ground. Went up to the magasina (storehouse) where much of the slave rebellion of 1795 took place. It's all overgrown now, but the walls still look sturdy. By losing that hour, I wasn't able to make the entire circuit. Got up to where I had a great view and then turned back. By 3:30, I was draped over the water cooler, slurping eagerly. When I got back to Punda, I had an hour's wait for the bus, so I went to McDonald's for a chocolate shake. Then I pulled a really dumb stunt. I had run out of anything to read, and I always hate to wait for a bus with nothing to read, so I got the brilliant idea of taking a minibus as far out Caracasbaaiweg as it would go and then walking the rest of the way. Thought I could beat the big bus. Ha ha. The bus I got on went out Santarosaweg instead of Caracasbaaiweg. Went through Santa Rosa and Monta¤a. I wondered if I'd ever get home. Finally I asked the driver if he went anywheres near Caracasbaaiweg. He said he was going there now, so that made me feel better. In a few minutes we were on Caracasbaaiweg, and I got out and started walking. After all it was only 3 kilometers, and the time was about six o'clock. Nothing to it. Of course, the big bus went tearing by when I still had a mile to go, and I wasn't at a Bushalte. By the time I got to my Royak, the sun was setting. Looked in my drybox for my little light. It was gone. I had another little flashlight in there, but it was soaking wet and wouldn't light. So much for dryboxes. It was pitch dark when I reached the boat. Swam for a few minutes and then took a shower. Roy had fixed supper. What a sweety pie! He had also resoldered the wire on the handheld VHF. Now the microphone works, but it still needs a new speaker.

Tuesday, September 12, 1995 - Curaco

(The logs from August 22 to September 11 are no where to be found?) Went downtown on the eleven-o'clock bus. Roy bought something at a drugstore while I went to the post office to mail Meghan's present. I was totally stunned by the amount of postage for a small, light package. Also checked for General Delivery mail, but as usual, there was nothing. Walked to Immigration and got our extension. They asked why we wanted to stay longer, which surprised us. Roy said we were waiting out the hurricane season. Went to the Tourist Information office to find out where Radio Shack or some other electronics parts store is. Roy needs to buy a small-point soldering iron to try to repair the handheld VHF radio. They gave us the address of a place called Microtech. We knew it would be closed for siesta at that hour, so we ate lunch at McDonald's and then took a bus ride to Santa Catarina just to see what was there. Nothing to shout about. On the way back, we got off at Promenade Plaza and went to Microtech. They didn't carry soldering irons, but they told us where we could get one. The man was very nice. He was going into town, so he gave us a ride. The place he told us about was Jimmy's Electronics in Otrobanda. Sure enough, they had a suitable soldering iron, so Roy bought it and some solder. The Super Jumbo Colon Market was next door, so we went there and bought a couple of things. Roy had his hair cut in a little local barber shop. The barber didn't speak English, but he did a good job. When I first saw Roy after the haircut, I nearly disowned him, because his hair was all slicked down and he had bangs! Fortunately, the wind quickly dried his hair and blew the bangs back where they belonged. Then he looked great. Best haircut he's had since I've known him.

Monday, August 21, 1995 - Curaco

Awoke to a dead calm. The water was like glass. The floats were reflected so perfectly, they looked like twins, one on top of the other. The float for the second anchor had disappeared completely; it must have been under the hull. Remarkably, we were facing due west, even though there wasn't the slightest breeze. Must have been a light current.

Sunday, August 20, 1995 - Curaco

Fun day! We took the bus into Punda, walked across the pontoon bridge to Otrobanda, and rode the bus to Westpunt, which is at the far northwest corner of the island. It must have been twenty miles or more. Took an hour to get there, even though the driver was driving like crazy. We went way out in the country and past the famous Mount Christoffel, which is the highest point on the island, 1239 feet. It's in a lovely national park. I want to go there, walk the trails, and climb to the top. Roy probably isn't so keen about that. The beaches on Cura‡ao can't compare with those on Aruba. They're smaller and rockier. Actually, the "rocks" are coral, but "coralier" didn't sound so hot. We walked along the beach at Westpunt and then walked along the road a ways. I was looking for the fort that's shown on the map but eventually found out the only remnant of the fort is an old cannon. A restaurant has been built on the site of the fort, so we ate lunch there. The food was mediocre, the service was worse, but the view was superb. We sat on a shady, breezy verandah, overlooking the bay and the Caribbean. We could see out over the water for miles. It was very calm. People were swimming in the bay. Three teenage boys kept climbing up to the cliff near the restaurant and jumping into the water. It was quite a jump. Must have been at least 40 feet. We caught the 4:15 bus back to Otrobanda. Got there at 5:05. I was anxious to catch the 5:30 bus to Spanish Water, because on Sunday the buses only run every two hours. I didn't want to get back in the dark. I zoomed to the bus terminal, but Roy stopped at McDonald's to buy shakes! What a nut! He made the bus, though, with time to spare. The shakes were delicious. Just what we needed -- cold and wet. When we reached Spanish Water, the sky was full of huge black clouds. Looked like a real storm was on the way. We paddled as fast as we could to the marina. Our timing was perfect. The rain hit while we were filling our water jugs and standing under the overhang of the roof. By the time we were ready to leave, the rain had quit. The wind was actually blowing out of the west, which is very unusual, so we blew all the way back to the boat. Took showers and relaxed.

Saturday, August 19, 1995 - Curaco

Finally got the rest of the laundry done. This time, I went over at ten in the morning and was through by two. While the clothes were washing, I took a shower and washed my hair. Roy came over with me to dispose of the trash. We didn't bring the ship's papers, because we didn't think Customs would be working on a weekend. Guess what -- there they were. No one had called us on the VHF. They agreed to wait while Roy paddled all the way back to the boat for the papers. Took him nearly an hour. It's a relief to be all cleared in. Now we can relax and enjoy. The wind was blowing fairly strong this morning, but by afternoon it was calm again. Just another tropical wave passing by. We've had one tropical wave after another. They're not water waves; they're waves of air pressure. Usually they're quite mild, maybe 15 to 20 knots of wind, but once in a while a tropical wave develops into a tropical depression, and occasionally a tropical depression develops into a tropical storm, and sometimes a tropical storm develops into a hurricane. All that from a gentle little tropical wave! After lunch, I paddled around while Roy dove. He found that the bottom is soft mud; anything falling on it would immediately disappear from sight. The anchor tines were straight up; only the chain was holding us. After adjusting the tines, Roy put out a second anchor. He also set a buoy with two lead belts, so we'll know if the boat changes location. When he was through, he paddled over to where I was, and we went for a pleasant paddle out the channel past Santa Barbara Beach. Saw some guys paddling -- ugh -- Ocean Kayaks. They're cheap, imitation Royaks, but they're very popular; we see them all over the place.

Friday, August 18, 1995 - Curaco

An old Dutch skipper who's familiar with Cura‡ao told me about a very large supermarket that has everything under the sun, so I decided to check it out. Roy was still expecting a call from Customs, so he stayed on the boat. I took the bus into town, went to the Post Office to mail my postcards, went to an ATM to augment my moolah supply, picked up some free newspapers at the Tourist Information Office, and then returned to the bus terminal to take a minibus to the market. Saw a minibus with a sign, "Schottegat Rond," which is what I'd been instructed to take, but before getting in, I showed the slip of paper with the store's name to the driver and asked her if she went there. Cura‡ao isn't as totally dedicated to tourism as Aruba is, so fewer people speak English. Apparently, the bus driver didn't. She said something to me in Papiamento. I couldn't understand what she was saying, but I gathered from her tone and expression that she either didn't go to the supermarket or she didn't have the remotest idea where it was. It's a good thing I had endeavored to learn a few words of Papiamento. Feeling very stupid, I managed to come up with, "No ta bai?", which isn't even a real sentence. It just means, "No go?" Yet my feeble little attempt to speak Papiamento made all the difference. The driver's eyes lit up, she smiled and said, "Si," so I got in the bus. She took me right to the market for 1.75 florins. As I'd been told, it was a very large, well-stocked market. I even found our favorite cereal, that I hadn't been able to find since leaving Aruba, so I stocked up on it. Filled two shopping bags with groceries, found a bushalte, and caught a minibus back to Punda. On the way, I saw a large, nice-looking Kentucky Fried Chicken, a Burger King, and a more attractive McDonald's than the one downtown. Also saw a billboard saying there was a Denny's next to the Holiday Inn. As in any other large city, you have to get out of the downtown area to find the nice stuff. Ate lunch at McDonald's, bought some insect repellent at a drugstore, and returned to the boat. Customs still hadn't called.

Thursday, August 17, 1995 - Curaco

Very light, variable breeze today. Kept shifting from South to East to North and back again. I had intended to do another load of wash today, but the calm water was too inviting. I paddled around, exploring some of the little islands and coves. When I returned to the boat, I updated the log, wrote postcards, and then went paddling again. Roy spent most of the day on the boat, reading, relaxing, and waiting for a call from Customs, which never came, so finally he went paddling, too.

Wednesday, August 16, 1995 - Curaco

Paddled in to Sarifundy's Marina and signed up for their services. It isn't a marina in the usual sense of the word. They don't have slips, but they have restrooms, showers, and a laundromat. They only charge 4 guilders (about $2.25) a week to use their facilities. The laundromat is expensive: 7 guilders to wash, 3 guilders to use the dryer for half an hour. Showers are 2 guilders. Drinking water is .02 guilders a liter, about 5 cents a gallon. They have snacks, beverages, and supper. Mail can be sent to and from there, and they sell postage stamps. There's a phone, a fax, a copier, and a tiny quantity of marine supplies. Four mornings a week, minibuses come by to take people to supermarkets. There's no charge for the bus! We rode the minibus this morning to a supermarket that was much better than the one we went to yesterday. It was better lighted and had a number of items we couldn't get at the other store. Still nothing to compare with the stores on Aruba, though. After we returned to the boat and ate lunch, Sarifundy's called us on VHF to tell us Customs was there, so Roy paddled in with the ship's papers, but it took him about 15 minutes to get there, and they had already left! I gathered up a load of wash and took it in. That turned out to be a mistake. Both washers were in use, but one was nearly done, so I thought I'd just have a small wait, but it turned out someone else was ahead of me. At that point, I should have returned to the boat, and if I'd known it would take an hour to wash and an hour-and-a-half to dry, I would have, but I thought I could get through by six, so I waited. Struck up a conversation with a very talkative woman named Barbara. It was "It's-a-Small-World" day. Turned out we had both been born in New York City, we had both lived most of our lives in California, we had both lived for several years in Santa Clara County, we were both computer programmers, and we were both ham radio operators with the same prefix, KC6. We had even taken our exams at the same place! It was well past four when I finally got started on the wash, and long after five when I got the stuff in the dryer. It took three go-rounds of half an hour each to get everything dry. By the time I'd folded the clothes and gotten them in my Royak, the sun had set. The night was pitch black, and I was wearing my dark glasses. Had a lot of fun trying to find my way back to the boat. Kept bumping into things that I couldn't see until I was right on top of them. It's a very easy trip in daylight, but at night it's confusing. Luckily, there wasn't much wind. Once I located the fuel dock, I was oriented and could see a tiny light in the distance that had to be the Jofian, so I paddled towards it, kicking myself for being so dumb as to start the laundry so late. It would be after eight o'clock by the time I reached the boat, and then I'd have supper to cook. When I was almost to the boat, a tiny fish jumped into my Royak, but I soon scooped him up and tossed him out. What a pleasant surprise when I reached the boat -- Roy had already cooked supper! I didn't have to do anything but eat and relax.

Tuesday, August 15, 1995 - Curaco

Woke up to a beautiful world. Now that we're out of that ughy Willemstad, we can enjoy Cura‡ao. We set the date for the annual stockholders' meeting of Jofian, Inc., for September 8. We have to give ten days' notice, and it takes a couple of weeks for mail to reach the U.S., so that was about the earliest we could schedule it. It was supposed to be held June 1st, so we're very late. I spent most of the morning printing the notices and getting them ready to mail. We paddled to the isthmus just in time to catch a bus to town. It was one of those fancy trolley buses that are used in resort areas to take tourists sightseeing, but it was being used as a regular bus. Went to the post office and mailed the notices. Then we ate lunch at McDonald's. Stopped at the Tourist Information Office to get a copy of Cura‡ao Today, but they only had old ones. Got a bunch of brochures. Walked two or three miles to the Pita Supermarket that had been recommended. Passed a lot of old, abandoned, tumble-down houses, even though this was right on the waterfront and should have been prime property. It's a shame. The supermarket wasn't much, but it was better than the one downtown. When we came out, we didn't see a bus stop ("bushalte"), but there were a couple of women standing on a corner, so I asked them in Papiamento if that was a bus stop and they said, "Si," but apparently they meant an autobus stop. Several autobuses stopped there and the women left in one, but the autobuses don't go to Caracas Bay, where we need to go. When a big bus came along, we waved frantically, but it didn't stop, so we walked a couple of blocks until we saw a yellow bushalte sign. We had to wait nearly an hour for the next bus, so it was pretty late when we got back to the boat.

Monday, August 14, 1995 - Curaco

I walked up to Fort Nassau in the cool of morning. It's on top of an even higher hill than the one I climbed yesterday, so I had another great view of the harbor. Then I went into town to try to find a decent grocery store, but the only one I found had absolutely nothing I wanted. The Tourist Information Office was open by then, so I got a map and found out where there's a super market and a laundromat. The area we're in is called Scharloo. It's the "old residential district," with emphasis on the "old". There are nice areas in Willemstad, too, of course, but I don't like it as well as Oranjestad. Willemstad is much larger. The island of Cura‡ao is more than twice the size of Aruba both in area and population. It lacks the charm of Aruba and the cheerful, happy people. There is ugliness here and destitution, which didn't seem to exist on Aruba. Between town and our boat is a dock where Venezuelan boats bring vegetables and fruit and other wares that they sell in open-air stalls. I was walking through it when I saw Roy coming towards me! That was lucky. We went to McDonald's for breakfast. On the way back to the boat, we bought a few potatoes, oranges, and bananas in a circular market. I'm glad I've learned a few words of Papiamento; the grocer didn't speak English. He told me the amount to pay in Papiamento, and I actually understood what he said! We took our papers to the Port Captain's office. She filled out a little form and said we didn't have to go to Customs. Only took a couple of minutes. Easiest place we've ever cleared into. A French sailboat tied up in front of us. Its skipper came back from the Harbor Master's office and told Roy the Harbor Master wanted to see him, so Roy went over there. No problem. He just said we had to leave here by two o'clock, which we were planning on doing anyway. Had no problem motoring to Spanish Water. Lovely sunny day and light wind. The engine didn't overheat. The entrance to Spanish Water is very narrow and hard to locate, as it is unmarked, but when we finally saw it, it was easy to enter and the water was plenty deep. Most sailboats anchor in front of the yacht club, which is just to the left of the entrance. We went to the right and had a huge area of the bay all to ourselves. This bay is nearly as large as Schottegat, much prettier, and just as well protected. We anchored in 31 feet of clean water, surrounded by green hills. There is a phosphate stripmine nearby, but it doesn't look too bad. There are a number of attractive houses on our windward side, but to leeward is open country. We can easily paddle to the isthmus where the bus stops. As soon as we'd eaten lunch, we got in our Royaks. Roy paddled to the yacht club, but I went in the opposite direction, followed the shoreline for quite a ways, and also explored some tiny islands. Just as I was about to return to the boat, here came Roy, so we returned together. I went for a little swim, and then we rinsed ourselves off with fresh water. Yesterday evening when we were Royaking, the latch broke off the hatch cover on my Royak. Roy said he could put it back on, so as soon as I got my Royak on the boat this evening, I handed it to him. A few minutes later, he stood up, carefully holding the latch in his hand. He tripped or slipped, reached out to steady himself, and plunk, there went the latch in 31 feet of water. It's a good thing my Royak will function without it. This is such a lovely place to be! It's quiet and peaceful, we have complete privacy, we don't have to worry about bumping into other boats or their bumping into us, the air is exactly the right temperature, the water is delightful. We sat on deck after supper and appreciated.

Sunday, August 13, 1995 - Curaco

While Roy slept, I took a little walk around. Went up a high hill and had a great view of the area. Then I walked to an ATM. Was happy to discover it not only accessed U.S. banks, it even offered me a choice of U.S. dollars or Dutch guilders. The ATM in Aruba only gave me Aruban florins. After breakfast, we rode the 11:30 bus to Spanish Water, which is a large bay. Unfortunately, we found ourselves on the wrong side of it. We could see a lot of large sailboats anchored out, but where we were there were only small, shallow-draft boats. Roy didn't feel like walking, so he sat on a bench in the shade while I tried to walk to the yacht club and marina to get information. The road didn't follow the perimeter of the bay but went out into the country. I walked about three miles and didn't find either the yacht club or the marina, although I could see the water and sailboats. I came to some sort of beach club and talked with a Dutch girl, but she had no idea where the yacht club or marina were. I would have kept going, but my stomach started yelling that if I didn't put some food in it right away, it would tell my teeth to bite a big chunk out of my arm, so I turned around and headed back towards Roy and the bus stop. I was almost there when I saw the bus coming, so I flagged it down and got on. There sat Roy. He had eaten a delicious but expensive bowl of fish soup at a little restaurant, so his tummy was happy. We got back to Punda at five past two and immediately headed to McDonald's. It was closed for siesta! First time I ever heard of a McDonald's taking a siesta. The one in Aruba didn't. Went to the boat and ate some lunch. After three, we walked to Baskin-Robbins. Roy ate two scoops of ice cream and a scoop of sherbet, and I had a super luscious banana split with three scoops of ice cream, strawberry and pineapple toppings, whipped cream, nuts, and maraschino cherries. Haven't had anything like that in years. It was delicious! So now my poor tummy is happy again. We spent the rest of the evening Royaking around the Schottegat, which is the name of this huge commercial harbor. I think it's at least as large as San Francisco Bay. It took us several hours to explore one little corner of it. It's very active, too; freighters, tankers, container ships, and automobile carriers from all over the world keep going in and out. Also barges. We saw a Dutch naval vessel, a lot of small boats, and even some nice sailboats. Saw a large old sailboat from St. Thomas that had once been a beautiful, expensive boat but is now sinking. It still has thousands of dollars' worth of equipment on it that no one seems to be interested in salvaging. There were also some rusting old ships and barges.

Saturday, August 12, 1995 - Curaco

By dawn, we were approaching Willemstad, the capital of Cura‡ao. The entrance to the harbor is guarded by a pontoon footbridge. We called Harbor Control on the VHF, and they opened it for us. Then they even sent out a pilot boat to guide us in. It was a nice calm morning -- quite a contrast to our arrival in Aruba. We had no problem tying to the dock as indicated. Roy talked to an official who had driven up. The official gave him a form to fill out and told him to come to his office at noon. When Roy went there at noon, he was able to clear immigration, so we can go anywhere we want to, but the boat has to stay tied here until Monday, when we can clear customs. There's no charge for staying here! Our kind of price. Willemstad is divided into two sections by the channel leading into the large, well-protected commercial harbor. The original city is called Punda, which means "point". The newer city, on the other side of the channel, is called Otrobanda, which means "other side". Makes sense. To get from one side to the other, pedestrians cross the pontoon bridge, which was originally built in 1888 by a man from Maine, who charged two cents for each pedestrian wearing shoes. Those who were barefoot didn't have to pay. Now the bridge is completely free. When boats need to go in or out, the entire bridge swivels open on a track at one end. It's really remarkable. We've never seen anything like it. While the bridge is open, small ferries provide transportation across the channel at no charge. There is also a 200-foot high vehicular bridge. Roy and I had fun exploring. Unfortunately, many of the old, picturesque buildings are abandoned and going to wrack and ruin. Some are being razed. This is the part of town we have to go through to get from the dock to the downtown area. It's full of trash, crumbling buildings, and trashy, crumbling people. But after we cross a little bridge, things improve. The bridge is an old, hand-operated drawbridge that is no longer opened. We quickly found a McDonald's and ate lunch. Then we rode a free ferry to Otrobanda and walked around. Explored an old fort. Got on the first bus we saw and rode it wherever it went and back. The fare was only one guilder. In Aruba, it was 1.75. I was even able to get a copy of the bus schedule. Cura‡ao is a lot greener than Aruba. There are many more trees, and the trees are much taller. Nevertheless, so far I like the Aruba countryside better. Went in a couple of stores, looking for a net shirt for Roy. The only one he found was big enough for Roy, his brother and sister, and two or three friends all at the same time. But the store did have a very nice, cool, comfortable pair of shorts for me that fit perfectly, so I bought them. We crossed the pontoon bridge back to Punda and walked around some more. Found an ATM, the Post Office, the Tourist Information Center (closed, of course), and the bus terminal. Tomorrow, we're going to take a bus to Spanish Water, where the yacht clubs and marinas are.

Friday, August 11, 1995 - On way Curaco

We were just getting ready to leave the boat when a man yelled to us from the end of the dock. He said he was from Customs and wanted to talk to the captain, so Roy paddled ashore. It turned out they couldn't find any record of Jofian in the computer. I showed him our papers. He drove us to his office in the refinery and made copies of our papers. Then he drove us downtown! We bought some groceries, ate lunch at Burger King, bought a bottle of cough syrup, and bought some more cleaner for the cooling system. We started walking back, thinking we'd have to walk the entire way, but when we were about a third of the way there, two U.S. women in a jeep offered us a ride, which we accepted with alacrity. Back at Rodgers Beach, I wandered around while Roy put the stuff in the engine. For the first time in all the weeks we've been here, I was able to see Venezuela! It wasn't a cloud or my imagination; it was a real mountain in Venezuela. I could see some low land just to the west of it, too. Swam out to the boat and told Roy. He saw it, too. Left for Cura‡ao around 3:30 in the afternoon. We didn't get the northeast wind we'd been promised, but the breeze was light, the sea fairly flat, and a bright full moon illuminated the world, so we enjoyed an easy, pleasant motorsail to Cura‡ao.

Thursday, August 10, 1995 - Aruba

Roy flushed the cooling system while I paddled up the harbor and back. Then we left for San Nicolas, five miles to the south. The engine temperature remained close to normal, even though the engine was revved up to 2100 RPM's. Maybe we'll make it to Cura‡ao yet! San Nicolas is a refinery town. During the forties and fifties, it was going full blast, but now the operation has been greatly reduced. We went past the refinery and anchored in the southeast end of the harbor off Rodger's Beach. Another beautiful location! Palm trees, white sand, blue, blue water. The temperature is perfect. The wind and water caress our skin. We're so lucky to be here! We paddled ashore and began walking into town, a distance of about three miles. We hadn't gone very far when a man driving a laundry truck offered us a ride. Turned out he was the assistant technical manager of the laundry. He had been born on Aruba and lived here all his life except for eleven years in Holland. He spoke English fluently. Also spoke Papiamento, Dutch, Spanish, and Portuguese! How I envy multilingual people! He took us right to Burger King, where we ate lunch. Then we walked back towards the Esso station. Bought some cookies along the way. The woman in the tiny store where we bought the cookies thought we were crazy to be sailing around in a little boat. She told us we should take a cruise ship or fly. She was quite a character. The Esso station had diesel and also had the radiator cleaner and waterpump lubricant that Roy wanted. We tried to phone a cab, but they said it would be fifty minutes before it got there, so we just started walking. When an empty cab passed us, we hailed it, and he stopped. What a contrast between drivers! This one was as pleasant as the one from the airport had been unpleasant. He was off-duty and on his way home, yet he picked us up, took us to Rodger's Beach, waited while Roy paddled out to the boat to get the diesel cans, drove us back to the Esso station, waited while the four jerry cans were filled and we put water in our two five-gallon water jugs, drove us back to the beach, and helped carry the jugs to our Royaks. Then he refused to accept any money! We insisted on paying him anyway, and finally he accepted. The driver had been born in San Nicolas, one of sixteen children. His 95-year-old father and 90-year-old mother are still going strong. He visits them at least once a day. His father worked at the refinery for 35 years. After the cab left, we were suddenly surrounded by two Customs officials and two Police officers. Apparently they thought we had just arrived in Aruba. We explained that we had been in Aruba since May 12th and had cleared in with both Customs and Immigration in Oranjestad. We offered to go out to the boat and get our papers, but they took our word for it. They were very courteous and pleasant. Roy ferried the diesel and water to the boat and then went for a little walk. The large beach club on the point that had flourished during the refinery days is now empty except for a dive shop. The weather forecast for tomorrow was excellent -- northeast wind, 10 to 15 with seas 3 to 5 feet. If that comes true, we'll have an easy sail to Cura‡ao. There was the most beautiful moonrise tonight. The moon was full and orange. It rose behind the palm trees on the beach. We watched it for a long time.

Wednesday, August 9, 1995 - Aruba

Roy worked on the cooling system again, and I paddled around. The weather forecast keeps saying, "East wind, 10 to 15," but it sure feels more like 20. Many times I had to paddle with all my strength just to stay in the same place, and sometimes I even blew backwards, but eventually I got almost to the WEB plant. Returning to the boat was a cinch; I didn't have to do anything but dip a paddle in the water occasionally to stay on course; Mother Nature provided the propulsion. We took some pictures, and then Roy paddled around a while. After lunch, we raised the anchor and took off for Savaneta. This time, the engine ran much cooler, even though we went farther and faster. It only took us a little over an hour to cover the 4.2 miles to Savaneta. Roy still wants to reflush the cooling system before we leave for Cura‡ao, however. And we still need to buy additional diesel. So far, we haven't seen a fuel dock that has diesel. The entrance to Commandeur's Baai at Savaneta is a narrow opening between two reefs, and there aren't any channel markers, but it was still daylight, so we got in okay. We sure wouldn't want to come in here in the dark. There are supposed to be range lights, but we didn't see them. This is the loveliest anchorage yet. There are attractive homes along the shore, there are people and docks and small boats, the wind isn't as strong, and the water is much calmer. We don't rock and bounce the way we did at Eddie's place. We paddled around a little while and then ate supper. There was the most glorious sunset! The reds and crimsons were unusually bright. Towards Venezuela, we could see flash after flash of lightning. The air here is so delightful -- cool, pleasant, caressing. It's too bad we have to leave.

Tuesday, August 8, 1995 - Aruba

Roy put on his SCUBA gear and finished scrubbing the bottom of the hull. Then he paddled back to the dive shop for another 3000 pounds of air. I paddled into town, got rid of most of the rest of my Aruban money, which will be totally worthless after we leave here, picked up a copy of "Aruba Today", the free English-language newspaper, went to the Post Office for a final check for mail at Poste Restante (General Delivery), and bought a few groceries. Around four in the afternoon, we picked up the anchor and headed for Eddie's place. The weather forecast was for 10 to 15 knot winds, but it was blowing 20 and of course directly towards us. It took us an hour to go the two miles. The engine overheated again, but not as badly as on Saturday. Nevertheless, it's a problem that must be corrected before we head out over 70 miles of open sea to Cura‡ao. We also realized we need more diesel. We have 35 gallons, but if we only make two knots, we might run out just before reaching Willemstad. I had hoped there would be less wind in the little cove in front of Eddie's house, but if anything, it's even windier than at Surfside. When we first dropped anchor, it dragged, but we didn't have enough chain out. We put out more chain and ran the lead weight down the chain. After that, we held. We're next to the garbage dump, but the wind blows the smoke away from us. On the beach next to the dump is a dwelling that is difficult to describe. It's too small and dilapidated to be called a hut or shack. It's sort of a droopy tent made, apparently, of pieces of plastic and sticks. Perhaps hovel would be the word. The man who lives there has nine large dogs. No wonder he can't afford a house; he must use most of his money to buy dogfood. He probably earns a living by scavenging from the dump. Despite his lifestyle, he looks healthy and strong. He's probably in his twenties or thirties. At night, he lit a bonfire on the beach. It burned for several hours. Shortly after we arrived, we saw a strange sight. A southbound cruise ship went by a mile or two off shore, stopped, and began drifting backwards. We could only assume it was having major propulsion problems. It continued drifting slowly backwards for several miles. Then it disappeared from our view behind Sonesta Island. But around midnight it returned, brightly lit as a cruise ship should be, and back on course.

Monday, August 7, 1995 - Aruba

We paddled into town this morning to get our exit papers, mail the letters I wrote yesterday, and buy a few things. We went to Immigration first and of course had to wait a while for the official. When we left there, we headed towards the Post Office, but we were passing a bunch of stores, so we went in. Roy was looking for a pair of shorts and swim trunks but couldn't find any he liked in the right size. By the time we got to the Post Office, it had closed for siesta even though it was only ten to twelve. We wanted to get a fluorescent tube to replace one that had burned out, so I phoned every marine supply store in town, but none had it. (While Roy was in California, I found a telephone card with 23 units left on it, so I got to make all these calls for free. Now it's down to 3 units.) A couple of places said we could get it at the General Store, so we decided to try there later. Some clothing stores were still open, so we shopped some more. Roy found a nice pair of shorts and a pair of swim trunks that he liked, so he bought them. He also wanted a net shirt, but the only ones he could find had writing all over them, which he hates. Also, they were extra, extra, extra colossal. By then, we were hungry, so we went to Wendy's for a delicious lunch. Then we went to the Customs building, but they said we had to go to the Customs office near the Port Authority, so we walked over there but found out we were in the wrong building. Eventually we found the right place, and the official made out our clearance papers. We gave up on the shirt and went to the General Store, but they didn't have the tube we wanted. They suggested Wimco, so we went there. The clerk was very nice, but they didn't have the tube. He phoned a lot of places and finally told us to go to Brenchie's, so we went there. Brenchie's was the largest hardware/housewares store we'd seen yet. It was so big, it was in three or four separate buildings. Guess what -- they didn't have the tube either. Well, maybe we can get it in Cura‡ao. We returned to the boat. Roy put his SCUBA gear back on and continued scrubbing the bottom of the hull until he was nearly out of air in his tank. I paddled to Sonesta Island for a refreshing swim, shower, and shampoo. Tomorrow afternoon, we plan on taking the boat down to Eddie's place, which was our original purpose in coming to Aruba. The two- mile trip will give Roy a chance to check out the engine before we take off for Cura‡ao. Incidentally, the TV reception here in the anchorage is excellent. At the marina, it was miserable. Both the picture and sound kept fading out. But now that we have good reception, the TV is starting to freak out.

Sunday, August 6, 1995 - Aruba

It's so good to be out here in the clean water and cool breezes! When we want to go swimming, we just hop off the boat. And we can go Royaking again! All the time we were at the marina, I only used my Royak once, and that was just to replace a broken line. I couldn't stand the thought of putting my Royak into that yucky water. This morning, Roy paddled to town to fill the five-gallon plastic jugs with water and to get rid of the trash. While he was gone, I wrote four letters. In the afternoon, I enjoyed a good paddle while Roy replaced the impeller, cleaned the saltwater filter, put on his SCUBA gear, and cleaned the barnacles and seaweed and glop out of the saltwater intake valve. He told me later he'd had a hard time even finding the intake valve, it was so buried in seaweed and junk.