Monday, October 2, 1995 - Bonaire

Went to the Venezuelan Consulate to try to get our visas. Had no problem finding the place, but the door was locked. I knocked and knocked. Someone inside said something in Spanish that I couldn't understand. After I'd knocked for about five minutes, he finally opened the door. Another man took my application. He needed the original of our boat registration renewal. I had a copy but didn't seem to have the original. (Actually, I did have it but didn't recognize it.) The visas are $30 each. He gave me a form to take to the bank and deposit the money. He told me to bring back the receipt and the original of the registration renewal. Went to the bank and deposited the $60. Then I mailed a letter at the Post Office and went to the super market for vegetables and chicken. Returned to the boat and put the groceries away. Our flag halyard had broken yesterday, so Roy replaced it with a new one. Looks much better. Something told me to turn on the VHF in case someone was trying to call us. I'd no sooner turned it on, than I heard, "Jofian. Maruba." It was Don, calling to give us the name and phone number of a reporter in Cura‡ao who was very much interested in the pictures. Roy and I walked over to the hotel and phoned him. He knew of the case. Told me they hadn't been smuggling drugs but had an illegal load of whiskey and cigarettes. Two were still in jail, but the other four had been set free. The reporter, whose name was Norman, was still interested in the pictures. He gave us the name and phone number of his associate in Bonaire, but when I tried to phone the associate, all I got was a fax machine. I called Norman back, and he said he'd keep trying to contact Bill and have him come out to the boat this evening or tomorrow morning. After lunch, Roy and I went back down to the Venezuelan Consulate, but this time no one answered the door. We stopped at Bonaire Tours and made reservations for a half-day tour of Washington-Slagbaai Park this Friday. Then we went to the super market and bought a few more things. Roy returned to the boat, and I went to the Tourist Information Office to try to get a bus schedule. Found out the only buses on this island are private minibuses, and they don't run on anything resembling a schedule. You just wait at a bushalte until one comes along. Maybe we'll try to go for a ride while we're here.

Sunday, October 1, 1995 - Bonaire

Roy had a lot of work to do on the boat, including changing the oil, so I rode my bike downtown. Everything was closed, of course, but I located a laundromat that looked good through the windows. It's about a mile-and-a-half from the boat. I can either walk there pulling the blue wagon or I can put the laundry in my Royak, paddle to within two blocks of it, and walk the rest of the way. I checked the shoreline and found a small spot between the rocks where I can pull up my Royak. There's even an ancient bollard to tie to. When I returned to the boat, Roy was still in the engine compart- ment but hadn't gotten much done, because Don had come by and talked with him some more. Don is very enthusiastic about the pictures. He and Roy contacted George on the VHF. George said he would come to the boat around noon. George showed up as scheduled. He's very pleasant and knowledge- able. He was an engineer for IBM for twenty years, part of which time he worked in San Jose! After leaving IBM, he worked in Washington, DC, as an independent consultant. Then he chucked it all to go sailing. He and his wife Laura settled in Bonaire a couple of years ago and have been chartering their boat. After living on their boat for ten years, they have just moved to a new house (he calls it a bungalow) on land. They are SSCA commodores, but will now have to become rear commodores. (Commodores have to live on their boat.) George was very much interested in the pictures and the story. He knows a newspaperman named Linkels who has contacts in Cura‡ao and might be able to get the rest of the story from the police. That's what we really need to know; otherwise, it's nothing but speculation. George asked me to write up the story as we know it and bring the diskette to his house this afternoon. He also picked out two of the best pictures and took them with him to reproduce. After lunch, I wrote the story in newspaper style and copied it to diskette. Then Roy and I got on our bikes and rode about four miles to George and Laura's house. It is a beautiful, modern, tile-floored "bungalow" with a panaromic view of the water, the western shore of Bonaire, and Klein Bonaire. They have a long-haired dachshund puppy named Trixie and a small parrot named Oscar. Oscar loves to be played with and petted. We sat on their patio overlooking the sea and talked for quite a while. Then George took us into his computer room. He has all this terrific new equipment, of course, including a gigabyte hard-disk, CD ROMs, and WINDOWS 95. I drooled with envy. WINDOWS 95 was able to reproduce the photographs and manipulate them in various ways to make them even more outstanding. It's astonishing. George is going to use two of Roy's pictures and my story in the next issue of Port Call. He made several unsuccessful attempts to phone Mr. Linkels. He'll continue trying. Laura told us that the teensy weensy flies that keep biting us are no-see-ums. We should have known. No wonder they drive us crazy. When we left, Trixie got loose and followed Roy about a mile down the road. I was afraid the little doggie wouldn't be able to find her way home, so I kept whistling and calling. Eventually, she turned around and followed me back to the house. George and Laura were overjoyed to see her. They had been looking for her and were about to launch an exhaustive search. They thanked me profusely.

Saturday, September 30, 1995 - Bonaire

Talk about serendipity! Two or three months ago, when Roy was in California and I was in Aruba, I tuned in the Breakfast Club on short- wave just to see if it would come in. To my amazement, it came in loud and clear. Of course, it was freak reception; I haven't been able to get it since. I talked with people in San Blas and Belize. A man named Bill on the Mad Hatter asked me to say "Hi!" to Don on the Maruba. Bill thought the Maruba was in Aruba, but I didn't see it. Yesterday evening, I just happened to notice her, tied to a slip not far from ours! This morning, I saw the skipper getting off her, so I walked over to him and said, "Hi, Maruba!" He looked a little puzzled until I explained the situation. He remembered Bill and the Mad Hatter and was glad to hear from him. Don has lived on his boat here in Bonaire for two years, so he really knows the area and was able to give us a lot of really valuable information. He told us that Customs is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, but they've moved to a new building. I had gone to the old building, which of course was closed. He also told us that when Immigration is closed, we can clear in at the Police station. So now we'll be able to get cleared in today instead of having to wait until Monday morning. Roy talked with Don about his pictures of the supposed drug bust we witnessed on Klein Cura‡ao. Roy still hopes to sell them to a newspaper or magazine. Don advised Roy to contact George of Oscarina on VHF channel 77. George publishes and distributes a free weekly newspaper called "Port Call", so he might have contacts that would be interested. Roy and I put my bicycle together. It's been months and months since we've been able to use them. Roy hadn't been able to unzip his bag and had had to cut it open, but mine unzipped right away. This island is going to be a great place to ride our bikes. There's very little traffic, the land is flat, and the drivers don't zoom around like maniacs, the way they did in Cura‡ao and Aruba. I was scared to cross the street in those places. We went over to the office and convinced them they had overcharged us by one day. Just as they were about to refund our $22, Roy piped up and said we could stay another day if space is available. They want us to check back Tuesday or Wednesday, when they'll have a better idea what the regatta situation is. They might be able to let us stay one more day. If not, they'll refund our money. I hope they don't have a place for us; I want to get out of here before the regatta starts. We'd have to spend half that extra day moving to another slip anyway, so why bother? Roy and his big mouth! We rode downtown, and Roy left a roll of film at a one-hour developing place. Then we rode out to the new Customs building. It was all locked up, but as I was peering through the glass door, a Customs officer opened it. He was as courteous and nice as could be. Took us upstairs and cleared us in. There's a law here that you have to leave your spearguns with Customs all the time you're in Bonaire, but he never even asked if we had any spearguns, and of course we didn't bring it up. Next, we went to the Police station and cleared in there, so now we're all legal and can go wherever we want to. The Police officer was very pleasant and courteous, also. Wished us a pleasant stay. Got another $300 from the ATM. Then we returned to the photo place to get Roy's pictures. The shots of the drug bust came out good, so now he wants to finish the other roll and get it developed. He's hoping he can sell the pictures to a newspaper or TV station. There's no McDonald's or Burger King here, but there is a Kentucky Fried, so that's where we ate lunch. Then we returned to the boat, so Roy could get his camera and finish the roll. I took down the quarantine flag and raised the Bonaire courtesy flag. Roy took a couple of snaps of my doing that. He also took some pictures of the boat and the bicycles. Then we rode out in the country a little ways, and he took a few more pictures. He'll finish the roll downtown. We saw an ice cream shop, so we had desert. Roy went downtown to get his film developed, and I returned to the boat. Had a few bad moments when I thought the refrigerator had quit. It wasn't running, and was up to 70 degrees. Roy had turned on both the AC and DC circuit breakers for the refrigerator, because the AC had blown twice yesterday afternoon, and he wanted to be sure the DC would take over if the AC went off again. Neither the DC nor the AC ammeter showed any juice being used. I turned up the temperature control, but nothing happened. Then, as an experiment, I turned off the AC circuit breaker. Immediately, the refrigerator came on! What a relief! When Roy got back, he figured out that the refrigerator wouldn't run on AC, because it was plugged into the timer, and the electricity here is 50 Hertz instead of 60, so the timer is messed up like the electric clocks. He plugged it in without the timer and got it to work on either AC or DC.

Friday, September 29, 1995 - Bonaire

Bonaire! We got up at five again, ate breakfast, raised the anchor, and took off. We didn't have to scrub the chain this time, because the bottom is clean sand. It was another beautiful day. We were able to motorsail nearly the entire way, and for an hour or so, we were able to turn off the engine and sail peacefully. Lovely! Reached Bonaire around noon and went to the Harbor Village Marina. We were lucky to get a slip, because there's a regatta coming up in a week or so, so the place is crowded. We have to leave the morning of the seventh, but in the meantime, it's good to be tied to a dock. We can go ashore any time we want to without climbing over big pipes. We have dockside electricity. It's only 15 amps, but it beats having to run the engine to cook. Unfortunately, Roy has discovered that the battery charger doesn't work, and the main bilge pump doesn't pump. So now he has two more projects. Just what he needed. When we were at the marina office, we forgot to ask about the restrooms and showers, and they forgot to tell us. The office is about the distance of two city blocks from the boat. Around three o'clock, I walked over there to find out where the restrooms and showers are. They told me, so I walked back to them, only to discover that the door to the women's room was locked. Back to the office. Oh yes, they'd forgotten to tell me. There was a $20 deposit required for the key. Back to the boat to get some money. Only had a 50-guilder note. Took that to the office. They said they didn't have any change, so they kept the whole thing. Anyway, I got the keys. And when I saw the restroom and showers, they were worth all the walking back and forth. Best we've had in years! Beautiful, large, tiled rooms, spotlessly clean, with three roomy shower stalls, plenty of pegs to hang our clothes on, and a nice big bench to sit on. We had asked about Customs when we first arrived. The woman in the office said she'd phone them and they'd come out to the boat, so we waited. And waited. I checked with her, and she said she hadn't phoned yet, but she'd do so right away. We waited. And waited. It was four o'clock, and they still hadn't phoned, so I walked downtown. Both Customs and Immigration were closed, so all our efforts to get here on a weekday were in vain. It wasn't a wasted trip, though, because I was able to get some much-needed cash from an ATM. The communications lines are now functioning, at least between Bonaire and the U.S. I also found an excellent supermarket. Best since Aruba. They have everything, including Parkay margarine, which we couldn't get at all in Cura‡ao, and our favorite oatmeal. The town itself is delightful. Small and clean, like a seaside resort town in the U.S. I bought a few groceries and headed back to the boat. In the meantime, Roy had put his bicycle together and was heading towards town, so we met en route. As soon as I got back, I enjoyed a long, blissful shower and shampoo in the nice, big shower room. I had suspected that we had been overcharged by a day, and when I checked the calendar, I knew we'd been overcharged, so now I have to get that straightened out.

Thursday, September 28, 1995 - Klein Curaco

Hooray, hooray! We're in Klein Cura‡ao! Got up at five a.m., ate breakfast, pulled up the remaining anchor, cleaned the chain, and took off. Got to the little island of Klein Cura‡ao at ten a.m. and dropped anchor in twenty feet of beautiful, clear blue water. This island is a little over a mile long and about half a mile wide. It is totally flat and barren. Three men live here in small, crude houses, without electricity, running water, or other luxuries. There is a fairly decent dock. Directly in front of the Jofian is an old, abandoned palapa. There are picnic tables and a large barbecue pit. In the center of the island stands an old lighthouse that is still in quite good condition. It is no longer manned, but the light is powered by a solar generator. Surprisingly, the buildings aren't boarded up. We were able to go in and look around. Climbed the spiral staircase and the ladders to the very top of the lighthouse. Could see the entire island and the water beyond. Could see Bonaire to the east and Cura‡ao five miles to the west. An old tanker was wrecked years ago on the windward side. The remains of its rusted hulk are still sitting there. The three men who live here were walking along the shore, gathering snails. We spoke to them briefly, but they knew about as much English as we do Papiamento. While we were walking around, a high-speed, thirty-foot powerboat, with four 225 HP motors, tied to the mooring buoy not far from Jofian. There were six scruffy looking men on it. One was transferring fuel from a large tank to the outboards. Roy said he saw one of them cleaning a rifle. He figured they had some sort of contraband on the boat. While we were eating lunch on Jofian, a helicopter flew over and began circling around. It came closer and closer, hovering right over the powerboat. Apparently, the people in the helicopter ordered the guys on the boat to go in to the shore. They took their boat up to the beach and waited. The helicopter landed a short distance away, and four policemen armed with automatic rifles jumped out. They rounded up the six men from the powerboat and searched them. Had them pull down their pants and lift up their shirts. Then they had them all sit on the beach. One officer went on the boat and searched. Apparently, he found something. The helicopter flew back to Cura‡ao and soon returned with four more police officers. Shortly afterwards, we saw a police boat approaching ninety-to-nothing. The six men made no move to resist. After about an hour, the officers moved them to the shade of the palapa. The police boat tied to the dock, and several more officers got off it. They searched some of the buildings, including the lighthouse. One officer carried a white package to the helicopter, and the helicopter took off. Two men and three officers got on the powerboat, and the other men pushed it off. Then the four on the beach were taken to the police boat, shackled together at their wrists. The police boat and the powerboat took off for Cura‡ao. We had a grandstand seat for the entire show. It was better than watching television. Roy took a bunch of pictures, which he hopes to sell to a newspaper. We napped for an hour or so and then went snorkeling and swimming. Saw thousands of fish. The water here is a little cooler than at Spanish Water. The air is delightful. And there aren't any mosquitoes! What a relief! They devoured us last night.

Wednesday, September 27, 1995 - Curaco

Caught the 8-o'clock bus. Ate breakfast at McDonald's. Then we went out to Napa Auto Parts and returned the alternator. They wouldn't refund Roy's money, but they gave him another alternator. Hope this one works. Had no problem getting cleared out, but we were told we needed the Harbor Master's permission to stop at Klein Cura‡ao, so we went up to his office. Had to wait about half an hour. When he finally came out, he apologized for keeping us waiting. Said we didn't need formal permission to go to Klein Cura‡ao. He said he'd phone the Harbor Police and let them know we're coming. Zoomed back to the bus terminal. Roy caught the bus by a cat's whisker. I went out to Centrum to get some vegetables and stuff. As usual, I bought too much and could hardly walk. Waited ten minutes for a bus, but they kept passing me by, so I decided I'd better walk a couple of blocks to a bus stop. As I was crossing the street, I saw a minibus stopped at a light, so I hopped on it without thinking. Took it for granted he was headed downtown, but he went in the other direction. But that was okay. It was too late for the 12:30 bus, so I had an hour-and-a-half wait for the next one anyway. It was pleasant sitting on a comfortable seat, taking a last look at the countryside here. Sure beat lugging fifty pounds of groceries in the blazing sun. When I got back downtown, I went to an ATM, thinking it would surely be working by now, but it wasn't! This is at least the fifth day. The people in the U.S. are probably saying it's Cura‡ao's problem, and the people in Cura‡ao are saying it's the responsibility of the U.S., so no one's doing anything. Picked up the papers at the Tourist Information Office, ate lunch at McDonald's, and caught the 2:30 bus back. Roy had already removed the awning, untied the stern line to the tree, picked up the port bow anchor, and cleaned the chains. I scraped the rest of the mud off the anchor. Then we paddled over to Sarifundy's and filled the water jugs. When we got back to the boat, Roy dived on the hull and cleaned the growth out of the through-hulls. He also tightened the perry nut. The he went back to Sarifundy's and bought ten meters of chain. Tomorrow we head to Klein Cura‡ao!

Tuesday, September 26, 1995 - Curaco

Roy leaped out of bed at 6:30, removed the alternator, and paddled over to meet the engineer. The engineer didn't know anything about the alternator, but he has a friend who repairs the things, so he's going to drive Roy over there at three this afternoon. I had to get some moolah today. I was down to my last two guilders, and Roy was in about the same shape. When I got to the ATM, the communication lines were still out of service! The teller I talked with didn't know what the problem was or when it would be fixed. I got an 800-guilder advance on my Mastercard. Walked to Jimmy's Electronics and bought the relay Roy wants. Bought a dozen eggs at the Super Jumbo. Grabbed a minivan to the Otrobanda bus terminal and then walked quickly to the Punda bus terminal. Caught the 11:30 bus back to Spanish Water. When the engineer's friend tested the alternator, he said it was no good, so now Roy has to return it. He's not going to fool with another one; we want to get out of here. We're already a week or more later that we wanted to leave.