Catching up in Peru- we sold our car!... a month ago.

Dear family, friends and anyone who may be following our trip,

I must first apologize for our lack of postings and updates of our trip thus far. However in doing so, I would have to apologize for the accessibilty and quality of internet throughout Latin America.

Currently we are in Piura, Peru awaiting a bus to Lima where we can hopefully meet up with our buddy Chad for a day or two. Lets take a few steps back though, as it had come to our attention that you guys dont even know that we sold our car.. err.. nearly a month ago. But if you thought we parked it on the boat with captain insano, you would have been mistaken.

Our first attempt to sell our car took place in Costa Rica. We decided (regretably) to head towards a border town to pitch the sale to a few used car lots. Since we generally move to places at high speeds we thought it would be a good idea to summit a mountain which- we later found out was called the Sierra of Death- late at night. Hm. And we did summit the mountain that night.. through thick fog, windy roads and uncomfortably large potholes.. only to reach the top and be turned around by the police. So we spent the night sleeping (more along the lines of laying awake with our eyes shut) in the car, in a random mountain village. I woke up around 5am to find three white hooded men walking past our car - KKK style. Needless to say we peeled out of the town dukes of hazard style in the pursuing seconds. Thankfully the police let us through the blockade at that hour. Unthankfully our car was running on fumes so we had to coast down the hill and slid into a gas station. Filled ´er up and headed down the road to find some car lots. But. The car began making spuratic thrusts forward. Our baby was unhappy and the purr of our diesel engine had transformed into some sort of a mechanical gargle. After coasting (yeah there was alot of downhill action) to a few different mechanics* (*note- here each mechanic knows a single piece of the car and that is it. So if you havent the slightest idea of what your problem is, youre punked). The radiator man, engine man and clutch man all turned us away and we eventually hit the diesel man, who decided to take a look under the hood. Pulled apart the fuel injection line and gave her a sniff check. He was quick to point out our car had been filled with gasoline that morning -oh wow. After a bit of hasseling and a tow truck (and free ride in the big rig) we made it back to the gas station where the syphon mechanic sucked our fuel out with his mouth. With the uproar in car problems we decided it was time to put forth a huge effort to selling our car. And we did - nearly sold it that afternoon, but lost the sale on the way to the bank. I think we had the tri fecta of bad circumstance on our side - christmas, the economy, and sketchy car that was bleeding black smoke out the exhaust after the gasoline incident (sorry girl!). We ripped out (as fast as a 52 hp car full of unnecessary gear could go) of Costa Rica and into Panama with hopes of better luck.

And luck is what we found in David, Panama. Sold the car to a man at the aduana (customs office) and closed the deal in one afternoon. Probably a record by Canadian standards let alone siesta driven countries. In fact most foreigners have to end up ditching their cars on side roads because they cannot sell it in time! Heroes? Business Students?.. Probably just really lucky. I must say though, it was pretty depressing saying bye to the Blueish/Greyish + misc. rust coloured stallion. But we were ready to embark on the whole backpacking adventuresque thing.

So after Pan City, we made our way to Puerto Linda where we met up that skinny, greasy, disgusting,miserable being- Ape.

*INSERT B´s STORY OF THE HIGH SEAS*

I think we have recovered by this point. Upset stomachs have subsided, seasickness washed away and nightmares of being held captive on the vessel have been replaced with dreams of gorgeous Colombian women. Since Cartagena we have been kicking it pretty hard on the bus maybe 20 hrs straight, then taking a day to recover. Bs birthday was pretty fun too - street burgs, a cream cheese pizza that made us want to vomit, a bottle of wine and an entire cake (of course he had feliz compleanos benjamin scribbled on haha). So pretty well a carb load night.

Ecuador was fast, and moderately furious. The bus travelling has been progressively sketchier and ghettoer (not sure if that is a word) but it is quite reminicient of our car travel days. On one bus ride we grew massive headaches due to a strange smell. But when smoke started creeping us from the floor, it made sense. The bus broke down and we had to wait 3 hrs for a new one to be sent. Our patience for these kind of things has grown tremendously, so it wasnt a big deal. When the new bus showed up, it was full of other passangers. Being polite Canadians.. we alternated sleeping on the bus floor the entire night. Miserable. But Id like to think generosity goes a long way here too! People are friendly folk, so it has worked out well.

Anyways thats about all the time I have for storytelling. Lots more to catch up on, and hopefully you´ll be able to when we get around to posting videos. The plan is to get caught up by the new year! ... but thats being pretty ambitious.

All the best, and happy holidays to all,
Besos.
Chris

Nightmare on the High Seas

Also known as:
How I nearly killed an evil pirate named Ape

We have just come out the other side of 8 days of hell. No exaggeration. Our sail was supposed to be 5 days, 4 nights, with 2 days just chilling on tropical islands. Reality was a far cry from our expectations.
We boarded a small boat with just Chris, a dutch captian (named Ape, ironically fitting... some foreshadowing for you) and I; he seemed uber nice to start, a little shy or introverted maybe, but nothing abnormal. We had heard that traveling on larger boats (with several other passengers) could be very trying (as sea sickness and close proximity don´t go very well together), so this appeared to accomodate us well. It was the captians first trip with passengers (which in retrospect should have been a warning sign, but we thought it would just keep him from being jaded to the whole experience).
First 3 days at sea were fine. We sailed out of Puerto Lindo (small town in northern Panama) and it took us 24 hours straight to make it to San Blas (Supposedly a one day or 12h sail). Alternating watch for 24 hours is not very fun, but in the beginning it had a certain novelty to it. Only later did we realize the other 3 ships making the identical journey all left during the afternoon and arrived before 12pm. Something was definately up.
We left San Blas after two relatively chill days of snorkling, but already our captian was getting a bit strange. Apparently he neglected to tell us he was an alcoholic (beer during day, rum at night), chain smoking (3-4 packs a day), drug addict (5-6 joints a day?). So anyways, little strange up to this point because he hadn´t used the engine (because he said ¨real sailors just use the wind, so thats what we´ll do¨) but in reality, it was because there we serious problems with the gas tanks and fuel lines, rendering the engine unreliable at best. Anyhow, after 36 hours of sailing directly into the wind (2 knots is a very, very slow speed in 10 foot seas) against the advice of the 3 other capitans (who were apparently ¨assholes¨ for giving him advice) we decided to just make for the Colombian coast (arriving somewhere to the west of San Bernardo de Viento, or not far from the dangerous part of Colombia). However our main issue was the capitan, his personality was irratic, decicions contantly shifting, we changed course possibly 4 times without any indication that the wind was changing. And worst of all, he was totally accusational, calling us down (like ¨you are stupid, you can´t even communicate, why don´t you listen, you are idiots, etc¨- examples givin sin choice expletives) even though 90% of the time it was his instructions that we inaccurate. Anyhow, he threatened to turn around to San Blas several times, and said that there was no way we could make it to Cartegena. At this point I told him that if we didn´t make it to Cartegena, I expected a refund in part, due to his neglegence in accepting a charter without a seaworthy ship and failing to deliver on a charter that is completed daily by similar boats. He flipped and things were very downhill from there. Food was running low, and the engine completely broke as we slowly headed north west. We sighted land for the first time off of Tolú, to which I offered to get off of the boat in the port (even though its a sketchy area, FARC infested, and we would be traveling illegaly) as he was becoming more and more confrontational, to the point where Chris and I were always prepared to defend ourselves (phisically, not just verbally, I was constantly scanning for weapons and moved my hunting knife beside my bed). Initially he agreed, and we were very hopeful that it would stick, but just as the port came into view (a two hour detour) he changed his small, fickle mind, and turned in the opposite direction, back out into sea and away from the coast; away from our only hope.
You´ve got to understand that it was not possible to question this man´s motives nor give an opinion, he would go snapcase at a moments notice.
Anyhow, we limped out into the sea, and really rough waves started to happen, like 10 foot seas in the middle of the night when you are on you watch (a local phenomenon to our boat). In during a paticullary long watch (of his) I offered to stay up and keep him company (being my diplomatic self), he asked if I could take the helm, something I had done many times before, and I said sure, that I would do my very best. And I did. There was no moon, no way to watch the compass, just a GPS screen with a bearing and a few scattered stars. I steered for an hour and a half with him intermittantly checking on me. At the end he came out and started swearing at me (using words I will not repeat here), as I had gotten .01 degrees off course (something he routinely would do, and in fact, completely unavoidable). Man, I stood up for myself (because at this point we were literally being held against our will by a hostile entity), I told him several things in my defense (that I was doing my best, that you need to make mistakes while learning, etc, though in much, much stronger language... actually, I don´t think I´ve sworn at another human being like that before in my life) Anyhow, he came down into the cabin and started to come at us with a flashlight, to which we got up in his face, and let him know succinctly that we wouldn´t hesitate to defend ourselves (I believe I said: ¨choke you to death¨) should he threaten us again. To which he started verbally abusing Chris (who was battling the effects of a poor diet, rampant sea sickness, diarreah and wild blood sugar swings). Chris was infuriated, but managed to keep his composure. Secretly we were both planning situations to overthrow him should things get more dire (think high-seas mutiny) and I had studied how to sail sufficiently that I was positive I could make it to shore somewhere. It came to a head when at 4 am, he stormed into the cabin and accused us of talking (I had asked Chris how he was feeling as he had taken a pill, literally one sentence, not that a conversation would have been unjustified), I retorted he could go and *expletive* himself. He yelled that the boat was now headed for San Blas (A two day sail from where we were, possibly farther, with no options to get off for another day afterwards). We both rose with murder in our eyes and in our hearts, advanced on him and before we got our hands on him, he said he was joking (catigorically false, I later checked the GPS coordinates). Given the scarcity of food, and now fresh water, the non-functionality of the engine, and our total lack of autonomy, it would have been a near death sentence.
We continued to sail, and the next day worked on the engine. I broke the end off of my fishing rod to clean the lines of the Gas tank, and it worked (One, the empty one of two tanks). We continued, sailing 24 hours a day, minimal food and water. No communication besides intermittant verbal battles, and I continued to always sleep with a weapon nearby. Any moment this mofo was near the knives, I was on high alert.
Then the wind died. We were about a days sail (80 knots) off of Cartegena, and there was nothing. Heat of the day, 4 hours later, water running thin, I dispaired. I got out my bible and started praying hard. Nothing. No response. Then I flipped to a verse in Corithians that my grandparents gave me (when they gave me the bible a few months before the travel started) and moved on to anything ¨weather related¨- think Jesus calms the sea of Galilee (could be wrong, correct me if your religously minded and care enough to do so ;)) . Then came wind. We managed to sail 5 knots an hour in the right direction (favourable wind for the first time in our trip) and after steering solo for 5 hours, made sight of land. The next day wind was in the wrong direction again, so I prayed it would stop. It (or chance - take it as you will) worked. Dead calm and we used the motor the rest of the way (12 knots distance). Sailing into Cartegena I could have cried (as I nearly did several times during the voyage). We got in last night, after the customs had closed, but we left the ship without our passports (which we retreaved today, with entry stamps). Man we ate two dinners (consecutively, large pizza + full burger combos) and although all of my clothes are mildewed and rank, we are finally free and happy.
So, in short, an adventure, but also without a doubt the worst time I have exprienced in my life.
So, thats my take on it. Long, but not exaggerated (which is not characteristic of me, but hey, why try hard when you don´t have to? Cross check with Chris if you don´t believe me).
I´ll link this later to lonley planet where I plan on libeling this capitan Ape a fair bit, and hopefully he eventually stumbles upon this page. Should you be reading this, Ape, have a nice life; on the upside, you have ample room for self improvement. Don´t ever try to contact me.
Cheers,
B