Thursday, June 1, 1995 & Saturday, August 5, 1995 - Aruba

We got up at 5:30, ate breakfast, and walked to the bus terminal. Caught the 7:15 bus to the airport. Roy checked his bags and got his boarding pass. Then he paid the $12 departure tax, and we sat down and read the newspaper until 8:30. They have very good security here. I couldn't follow him when he went through the gate and cleared immigration. He was at the boarding gate at 8:45, so I left. Just missed two buses, so rather than wait an hour for another one, I hoofed it. It was a beautiful morning for a walk anyway. Got back to Sonesta Suites in plenty of time to see his plane taking off. Guess I walked about a mile-and-a-half or two miles. Now the mice can play! This wraps up the Log of the Jofian. When Roy returns, we'll be getting Jofian ready for her new skipper. No more high-seas adventures for us. We'll be going back to lubbing the land. But our heads will be filled with wonderful memories. August 5, 1995 Surprise, surprise! At the conclusion of the last log, I said something to the effect that this was it -- no more logs, no more cruising, no more Jofian. But here we go again. What happened? The main thing that happened is that I regained my health. The long rest in Aruba's ideal climate was just what I needed. While Roy was knocking himself out in sweltering 100-degree heat, I was relaxing in the shade of palm trees, swimming in delightful blue water, exploring the island, and enjoying refreshing breezes. So now I feel great, and Roy's a wreck. (Just kidding. He's still going strong. I don't know how he does it.) The other thing that happened is that the couple who want to buy Jofian don't have the money yet. Anyway, we can't leave here until the end of the hurricane season, and then we can't go north immediately, because we'd be going right into the fall and winter storms, so we're going to go to Cura‡ao and Bonaire for a couple of months and then head for Grenada. We'll spend the winter slowly working our way north up the Windward, Leeward, and Virgin Islands. By the time we get back to the States, the O'Neils will probably have the money. So that will work out nicely for everyone. Roy got back Monday, July 31st. As usual, his plane was nearly an hour late, and then he had to go through Immigration and Customs, so it was close to six o'clock when we finally got in a cab to head to the marina. The cab driver was unreal. When Roy tried to open the door to get in the cab, the driver started yelling at him that he was going to break the handle! When we finally got in and started off, the cab driver yelled at the driver of the car next to him. Then when we got to town and tried to tell the driver where we wanted to go, he yelled, "Don't tell me how to drive!" He sure got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning. No matter what we said or did, he got angry. But eventually he did take us back to the marina, thank goodness. Roy had about 800 pounds of stuff to carry, so he didn't want to walk any farther than he had to. We'd have taken the bus if he hadn't had all that stuff, but he'd brought back zincs and whatnot. We've been having a lot of fun since he got back. Tuesday, we went for a ride in the Atlantis submarine. It's a real submarine that goes down to 150 feet. There are windows all along the sides, so the passengers can look at the reefs and the fish. It was neat. Wednesday, we took a ride on the Seaworld Explorer semi-submarine. It doesn't submerge, but the passengers sit below the surface of the water and look out windows, just like on the Atlantis. We saw more reefs and scajillions of fish. We also saw a sunken airplane and the remains of a German ship that had been scuttled during World War II. Thursday wasn't so pleasant. When Roy started the engine to check it out, we heard loud noises, like a belt squealing. Then we saw black smoke pouring out of the engine compartment. When Roy tried to turn off the engine, the knob wouldn't pull out! Luckily, Roy's an expert mechanic. He plunged down into the engine compartment and did something that stopped the engine. Then he lubricated the wire, so now the knob goes in and out again the way it should. He determined that it was the belt on the new alternator that had been making the noise. The alternator was frozen tight. He removed the alternator, started the engine again, and the temperature quickly rose to the boiling point! He turned off the engine and found a big crack in part of the heat exchanger. Water was gushing out of it. Luckily, he had a replacement for the part, and he was able to take the alternator apart and probably get it repaired, but in the interim, he installed the spare alternator. We walked to Napa Auto Parts and bought a couple of belts, but they didn't have the heat exchanger part. (Roy wants to get another part, so he'll have a spare.) The guy at Napa said we might be able to get it at Bluewater Boat and Tackle, so I walked over there, while Roy returned to the boat. Bluewater didn't have it, but they told me about a diesel repair place that might have it. I made numerous attempts to phone them, but got nothing but busy signals. Since we were going down in that area Friday morning anyway, we figured we'd go by there. Friday morning, we took the bus to Barcadero and went on a tour of the WEB plant. That's where they squeeze the fresh water out of the salt water and also generate electricity. In other words, it's the island's desalinization and electrical plant. We had to wear hardhats and were supposed to wear long pants, but no one had told us, so we had on shorts. That meant we couldn't go into some of the buildings, but it was an interesting tour anyway. They pump saltwater from the sea, run it through condensers to extract the fresh water, and dump the brine back into the sea. Then they run the fresh water over pieces of coral to restore some of the minerals and give it a good taste. Huge boilers produce the steam that is used for the condensa- tion process and also the steam that is used to turn the turbines that generate electricity. All of the island's fresh water and electricity are produced at this one plant. We walked about two miles down the road to the diesel place, but they didn't have the part we needed. Maybe we can get it in Cura‡ao. We had a long, long hike back to the highway where we could catch a bus. An autobus came along first, so we took it. When we got back to Oranjestad, we visited the archeological museum, which had a lot of pottery and tools from Indian days. Then we ate lunch at Wendy's. Saturday was our last day at the marina. We had decided to return to the anchorage for a day or two and then go down and anchor in front of Eddie's place for another day or two before heading for Cura‡ao. It's a good thing we had plenty of time to get away from the dock. We had to scrub the gook off the lines and fenders. That took a long time. Then we had to figure out how to get our lines off the posts. The starboard post wasn't too bad, but the cabin cruiser on our port side had put their big, heavy lines on top of ours. I had told Roy on the phone that we were going to have a problem getting our lines off the post, but he was confident he'd be able to do it. Wrong. Both the skipper and crew of the cabin cruiser were gone, and the two women on the boat didn't have the remotest idea how to slack the lines so Roy could get ours through them. Roy struggled for an hour or more without success. Finally he gave up and cut our lines. I know that must have broken his heart, but it beat sitting there for hours waiting for the other guys to return. What a relief to finally get out of that yucky yacht basin and back into clean water! The engine heated seriously on the way to the anchorage, but we made it. Good thing we didn't have far to go. We were using city water all the time we were at the marina, so the water in the tank had gotten stagnant and smelled like an old sewer. As soon as we were safely anchored, Roy replaced the filter, so now the water is okay again. That done, he put on his snorkeling gear and jumped in the water with a scrub brush and began scraping all the goosh off the bottom of the hull. What a mess! It's never been in such a sorry condition. Barnacles and tube worms and seaweed and everything under the sun. Yuk! He scrubbed and scrubbed but has a lot more to do. No wonder the engine heated! The water intake is probably clogged, and the propeller is so coated with junk it's a wonder it could turn. Thank goodness we're finally out of that filthy yacht basin! Jofian is starting to look like a boat again. A few more days, and she should be shipshape. On the day that Roy returned, a little lizard got on the boat. I tried to catch it, but it was too fast for me. It's amazing how rapidly those little critters can move. A day or two later, Roy saw the lizard in the aft cabin. Again I tried to catch it without success. Today, I was surprised to see it on the mainsail cover. I made a quick grab and caught it by the tail. Thought I finally had it, but an instant later, I realized I was holding only a piece of tail; the rest of the lizard had zoomed off to grow another tail. Remarkable creatures! So now we've no idea where it is. I hope it didn't get so panicky it jumped overboard and drowned. One night while Roy was in California, I had a terrific scare. At one a.m., I was waked out of a sound sleep by the sound of voices on the dock. The voices had a slight English accent. A young woman's voice asked, "How do we get out of here?" A young man's voice replied, "First, we get on the boat." His voice sounded awfully, awfully close to the Jofian. A moment later, I was horrified to hear the thud of a foot landing on our deck! I immediately sat up and looked out the porthole. There was a leg! We always keep a can of mace next to the bed. I was ready to grab it, but first I yelled in my loudest, deepest, most authoritative voice, "Who's there? Get off my boat!" To my great relief, the leg immediately leaped back onto the dock. I heard the guy mutter something that sounded like, "Wrong boat." It sure was! All the unoccupied boats in the marina, and he had to pick the one with someone on it! I watched out the starboard window and saw him climb on another sailboat, about three boats up from us. He kept trying to talk the girl into getting on, too, but she wisely refused. After a few minutes, he returned to the dock and tried to put his arms around her, but she backed away. Then it looked as if they were struggling, but without my glasses, it was hard to tell what was going on, so I put on my housecoat and slippers and went to the main cabin to get my glasses. I was thinking of trying to contact the police on the VHF radio, but I wanted to be sure of what I was seeing. When I got back to the cockpit, the couple had disappeared from view, but a few minutes later, they came strolling back from the end of the dock, apparently on friendly terms. They stood near the gate for several minutes talking, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Then, to my surprise, they both got into one of the motorboats on the other side of the dock and sat down. By then, I was convinced that the young man wasn't planning on invading the Jofian again, so I went back to bed. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, I heard them walking by towards the gate. The man was saying, "We're not in England now." The girl said, "Just because we're in America, that doesn't mean we can do anything ," which showed she had more sense than he had. They went out through the gate, and I went out on deck to be sure the gate was closed. It was, so I returned to bed, but it was a long time before I fell back to sleep.

Wednesday, May 31, 1995 - Aruba

The wind was blowing even harder today, so I took the hotel shuttle boat to the island, but Roy paddled over with his diving gear. He stopped at a dive shop along the way to refill his tank. By coincidence, the boat I was on went by just as Roy was pulling his Royak up on the beach. We waved to each other. He told me later that the woman in the dive shop told him that hurricane Brett went within 15 miles of Aruba two years ago. It didn't do any damage here, but that's still too close for comfort. We thought we were safely well south of the hurricane belt. The wind was blowing like crazy on the point, and the water was full of whitecaps, but Roy strapped on his tank and went for a short dive. Fortunately, he stayed on the inside of the island. Later, he paddled to the outside, where breakers were breaking and the wind was blowing all the way to Honduras, but to my relief, he turned around and returned to the point. Then he returned his Royak to the Jofian and rode the shuttle boat to the island. We enjoyed a good swim in the delightful water, took showers, and went home. Tomorrow's D-Day -- Departure Day. Roy leaves on Air Aruba at 9:30, so he spent most of the rest of today getting packed.

Tuesday, May 30, 1995 - Aruba

The wind picked up again today. Roy had wanted to go diving, but it was too windy, so he spent most of the day taking pictures of the interior of the boat and having them developed. He's going to send them to Frank with a cassette tape explaining everything. I went to the post office with a bunch of postcards. Picked up some groceries on the way back. In the afternoon, I did a load of wash. The rest of the time, I sat around and read. Not an exciting day. Maybe tomorrow Roy will dive and I'll snorkel.

Monday, May 29, 1995 - Aruba

Roy plans on leaving for California this Thursday, so we walked over to the Immigration office, which we finally found in back of the Police Station. They told Roy to buy his ticket and then return. I had read that to stay on the island longer than three months required special permission, so I asked about that. The man I talked with said I'd have to leave Aruba for at least two weeks and then return. We went to the Marina office and showed them our Aruba courtesy flag. They agreed it was not the right one and sold us a proper flag for $15. We also asked about a sail-maker, a place to get our fire-extinguishers recertified, and for further information about my staying here more than three months. They're going to find out and let me know next week. Roy went to a travel agency and bought his ticket to Miami. He'll leave here Thursday at 9:30. From Miami he'll go stand-by to California. He'll return here July 31st. We went back to Immigration, but they were out to lunch or something, so we ate a yummy lunch at Wendy's and then returned. This time the official was there. He filled out a form. Roy still has to go to Immigration at the airport the morning he leaves. I asked him about staying longer than three months, and he said that since we came on our own boat he thought I could get an extension two weeks at a time, but I'd have to come back just before the three months are up. There's a free trolley bus here that we thought would take us all over the downtown area, so we went for a ride on it. To our surprise and disappointment, the bus just shuttles between Sonesta Suites and Sonesta Hotel, a distance of about one block! What a waste! No wonder no one bothers to ride it. You'd think they'd use a small car or van instead of a 30-passenger bus. Roy returned to Jofian and took a bunch of pictures to send to Frank. I went to the post office to mail a card to Linda and to see if there was any mail for me. There wasn't, but I hadn't really expected it this soon anyway. On the way back, I bought a few groceries, had some copies made, and located Radio Shack, which didn't have any computer or printer supplies, just electronic junk. They told me to try a computer place next door, which I did, but they didn't carry the ribbon for my printer. After taking the groceries back to the boat, I went to an art show that Roy wasn't interested in. Then I relaxed by the pool for a while. Roy got his pictures developed. Some of them were quite good.

Sunday, May 28, 1995 - Aruba

Roy went to the cruise ship terminal to phone his children and Frank O'Neil. Frank is still enthusiastic about buying Jofian, and he didn't scream when Roy stated the price. There are still a great many details to work out, of course, such as when and where, but at least the first step has been taken. Roy will phone him again in two weeks. In the afternoon, we went to the island again. Saw more iguanas and bright green lizards. Roy didn't stay long, because he wanted to work on the boat, but I went for a good swim, took a shower, and relaxed on the beach for a while. Roy checked all the boat's batteries and found them to be in perfect condition. That's good news.

Saturday, May 27, 1995 - Aruba

Bought a textbook for Papiamento (also spelled Papiamentu). This is certainly an easy language. It's the first language I've ever come across that didn't decline the verbs. For instance, "ta" is to be, and it's the same for every person: mi ta - I am bo ta - you are (singular) e ta - he is nos ta - we are boso ta - you are (plural) nan ta - they are For most other verbs, you simply use the infinitive after ta: mi ta bai - I go bo ta bai - you go (singular) e ta bai - he goes nos ta bai - we go boso ta bai - you go (plural) nan ta bai - they go For the past tense, you change ta to a: mi a bai - I went bo a bai - you went etc. The future, which is seldom used, is formed by putting lo before the pronoun and eliminating ta: lo mi bai - I shall go lo bo bai - you will go etc. How simple can you get! And most of the vocabulary is very similar to Spanish. I bet a person who's fluent in Spanish could understand 90% of what's said in Papiamento without a single lesson. For instance, here are the numbers from 1 to 10: Papiamento Spanish un uno dos dos tres tres cuater cuatro cincu cinco seis seis siete siete ocho ocho nuebe nueve dies diez Even though Arubans insist Papiamento is a "real" language, in my opinion it is just pidgin Spanish, similar to all the other mishmashes of languages that developed during colonial days to facilitate communication between the dominant and the dominated. This is probably of no interest to anyone but me. I've always been fascinated by languages. When I was a little kid, my ambition was to travel all over the world and be able to speak the language of every country I came to. Today, Roy and I rode the bus to the area where the other marina was supposed to be, a couple of miles past the desalinization plant. We wandered around until we found it. It was quite small and a private club. The manager was very nice. He talked to us for about half an hour. He's 51 and was born on Aruba. He said there has never been a severe storm here. That was reassuring. He also told us that when there is a hurricane farther north, it sort of draws the wind away from here, so it's calm and hot in Aruba. They had no openings at all at their marina; in fact, they have a waiting list of members who want slips. Nearby was the ferry dock to De Palm Island. The round-trip costs $5. We discussed going over there, but decided not to today. There didn't seem to be much there. We really lucked out catching a bus back to Oranjestad. When we reached the highway, there was a bus stop right across the road and we could see a bus coming! We crossed the highway, got out our fares, and waved at the bus. In a few minutes, we were back in Oranjestad. We ate lunch at Kentucky Fried Chicken. Then Roy returned to the boat to do some work, and I walked to the Pueblo Supermarket. On the way, I passed a very nice hardware and housewares store. I went in and was delighted to find a good, stainless steel, made-in-U.S. vegetable peeler. Our old one disappeared several days ago, and the only replacements I'd been able to find had been totally miserable. They tore the vegetables to pieces, so I was really happy to find a good one at last. I dropped the groceries off at the boat and then went to the pool area at Sonesta Suites to stay out of Roy's hair. I got so relaxed in a lounge chair by the salt-water pool that I dozed off and had a hard time getting awake enough to return to the boat. While I was gone, a Naval officer stopped by the boat and informed Roy that the courtesy flag we were flying was not a proper Aruban flag. We had bought it in Fort Lauderdale, and it was supposed to be an Aruban flag, but the blue is too dark, the star is too big, and the stripes are too far from the bottom. After supper, we watched an Alfred Hitchcock movie, "North by Northwest", on channel 13.

Friday, May 26, 1995 - Aruba

Roy surprised me with a belated birthday present of a nice T-shirt with a lot of Papiamento phrases on it. What a nice surprise! The wind finally dropped to about 20 knots and the sky was blue, so we set out in our Royaks to find Eddie's house. Sometimes the gusts were so strong that I felt as if I were going two feet backwards for every foot forward, but eventually we got into the shelter of a point where it was easy going. On the other side of the point, however, the wind was stronger than ever, since we lost the protection of the island and were exposed to the full force of the wind coming off the sea. We had to paddle through the smoke from the dump, which was gross, but didn't last very long. Then at last we saw a red roof in the distance that we thought was Eddie's house. Roy was soon on the beach in front of the house, but I was still struggling. I wasn't at all sure I'd make it, but eventually I did. There were two houses side-by-side, just as in the photos Eddie had shown us. They're very nice, modern, three-storey houses, but I can't say much for the location, between the dump and the desalinization plant. I certainly wouldn't want to put that much money into a house in that location, even though they do have a nice little beach and a good view of the ocean. We soon found out that we had the two houses reversed. Both Roy and I had thought that the white house was Eddie's and the beige house belonged to his friend, Tommy, but it turned out to be the other way around. Eddie and Tommy weren't there, but we met a very nice English couple, Kimba and Michael, and their three-year-old son, Noah, who are renting the lower level of Tommy's house. Kimba took us over to Eddie's house and we went up the outside stairs to the balcony. She didn't have the key, so we couldn't go inside, but we didn't really want to, anyway. We were thrilled to have found the house. Kimba invited us into her apartment, and we talked for a while. Her husband is a real sailor. They had a beautiful schooner that they sailed for several years. Unfortunately, they let someone else use it, and it sank. Now they've refurbished a hundred-foot fishing trawler, Tattoo, which they charter here on Aruba. It's used for evening cruises. We had seen the boat and also had read ads for it. Kimba and Michael showed us a lot of photos of their boats. They purchased Tattoo in Newport, Rhode Island, and refurbished her at Kelley's Boatyard in Fairhaven, Massachusetts, which is where they met Eddie. When we left, Kimba gave me a Tattoo T-shirt! Wow, two T-shirts in one day! This is my lucky day. She also gave us her phone number and invited us to phone any time. The trip back was a cinch. All we had to do was steer. It took us an hour-and-a-half to get back to the boat. Going had taken five hours. Roy has discovered English-language programs on the local TV channel 13 between nine and eleven p.m., so I've started taping them. Some of them are interesting. We watched one this evening (taped last night) that was about the history and culture of the Caribbean islands. There are also a couple of free English-language newspapers published here, so we're able to keep up with the news.