European Escapade

On the 26th of May we dropped anchor at some small off lying Venezuelan islands, Aves de Barlovento, where we stayed four nights before heading onto Sotovento 10 miles west. West always West. Some of the best diving we have experienced to date was had in blue water off the leeward drop off. Enormous schools of horse-eyed jacks, whopping great rainbow runners, mackerel and lively schools of baitfish were patrolling up and down the deep drop off every time we flopped over the side of the dinghy. On top of the exiting fish life, the kite-surfing here was great and we could anchor alone in mangrove lined lagoons if we wished. Some, but not all of the islands in this group were busy with Brown Boobies and Red footed Boobies nesting in the 20m tall mangrove trees. The nests were also on the ground and even in the mysterious decrepit stone cairns. Nick and I speculated why not a single bird could be found on some of the islands while on others they were abundant; the absence was possibly due to the presence of dogs, rats or other introduced predators.
3 June 2006. We had to get a move on, Thor and Sonia were to be married in France on the 17th of June and we had to get the boat securely into the SeaPort marina in Aruba, catch our KLM flights to Amsterdam, then drive to Paris before the big day. The islands of Bonaire, and Curacao provided interesting stopovers on route to Aruba. The Spaniards 'discovered' the islands and their American Indian inhabitants at around 1500. Around 1640 the Dutch took over and Aruba is still part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. Being so close to South America all three of the ABC's have a strong Latin American influence. The locals speak Papiamento, a Creole incorporating seven languages, none of which we could recognise.
Bonaire is renowned for its diving. Other than small scale salt production, dive tourism drives the economy. The island has low rainfall (520mm), no rivers and emerges steeply from the Caribbean depths. The costal area was declared a marine park in 1979. Anchoring is totally prohibited so that visiting yachts must pick up any one of a hundred or so mornings along the lee shore. Consequently the coral and fish life directly under the boat and all along the shore was spectacular. Nick and I put our bikes together to explore the large estuaries that wind through karstic limestone and thorny scrub. A large National Park protects the estuaries which are an important breeding site for pink flamingos. We peddled vigorously into headwinds on a hot straight road across the island to see one of the worlds best windsurfing locations, Lac, and were impressed by the gymnastic moves a couple of adolescent freestyle sailors were pulling off.

Another day sail and 25 miles further west. Curacao's two huge estuarine inlets are both navigable. Nick and I crept into the narrow entrance to Spanish water to get out of a 25 knot wind for the night and could not believe the number of convoluted bays hidden behind the barren scrubby shore. Spanish water is highly developed and had little to offer other than protection from the elements. The private residences along the shores are super luxurious. Huge modern multi-level condos with private jetties are situated dog to dog around the inlet. This eliminated the possibility of us making a shore landing.
Aruba is the westernmost and the smallest of the three ABC's. We anchored with one other yacht at the capital of Oranjestad and a couple of days later we moved into our marina pen in the heart of the town which is full of duty free shops, casinos, dive and game fishing boats, hotels, bars and restaurants. It's colorful, cheesy and expensive. Nick and I signed up for a time share apartment presentation and received a 4x4 hire car for a day as a free gift. Brilliant! It happened that the timeshare presenter was not available but we still got the car; Perfect!! Couldn't have worked out better. Nick got the clapped out suzie sideways on all the dusty dirt roads from one end of Aruba to the other. We went so fast we saw everything in one day which included the highrise area, the lighthouse, the donkey sanctuary, the granite boulders and Aruba's most spectacular tourist attraction; a natural bridge on the windward coast. Only, the natural bridge had collapsed quite a while ago so it's really just like the rest of the windward shoreline apart from the acres of parking and the kiosk. After a quick photo Nick got us squealing off in the direction of the butterfly farm.

In 12 hours we traveled the same distance by air as it has taken us 12 months to travel by boat. It felt peculiar to be sleeping two up across four airline seats and not in the aft cabin of Pina Colada. The following night we slept in a VW fox rental car on the side of a Belgian motorway and that was even worse. But later that morning we were in Paris, it was warm, elegant and lively with old friends with Antipodean accents. Thor and Sonia's civil ceremony was performed by the Mayor of Paris, an old family friend of Sonia's. Afterwards French champagne and appetisers were served in a grand marbled chamber of the Marie. Ask Mano how good the appetizers were; he ate most of them. Thor had a flip top head he was smiling so broadly, quite understandably too; Sonia is a gorgeous Parisian girl, who is super clever with an unruffelable temperament. It was heart-beatingly beautiful to be there. Everyone rejoiced by drinking and eating late into the night at a little wine bar. The next morning I awoke with Nick wafting a Palmier under my nose. Palmier's are my priority boulangrie purchase. Ahh, I love France.

Samantha, Sonia's sister, arranged a surprise high ropes adventure the following day. Everyone had a "Thor and Sonia" t-shirt issued and we took over the canopy of the forest like a bunch of kookaburras. Later on that night the party split in two for a belated hens and stag night. Forget the cocktail umbrella; Sonia was made to have her cocktail with a "sexy dance". This is a brilliant marketing tool, for just 5 Euros extra you get a nubile boy to cavort around wearing only a tiny blanket! Think of the sales potential if this were applied to other markets. I'm not 100% sure what the boys got up too although I did hear it stopped traffic.

Friday the 16th of June was a travel day; everyone made there way south to the wine district of Beaune where the Church wedding was to take place on Saturday. Nick, Jonas, Mano, Irene, Lurch, Tim, Anne, Stephano and I all got together at our rented gite, which was a lovely converted barn house, and watched Brazil vs Australia play football in the World Cup on telly.

After eating Swiss chocolate for breakfast, thanks to Irene, the gang from the gite drove to the Chateau de Demigny to help decorate the marquee with lanterns and kite tails of colourful paper. Nick was nabbed to assist the groom prepare; Thor apparently had a belly wog. I never saw Nick again until half way through The Wedding Ceremony when he and Jonas, Thor's Best Man, crept past the aisles like a couple of pedigree dogs who'd been chasing roo's and just as sweaty. In his immersed state Thor had forgotten the rings and had sent his Best Man and his Groomsman on a hair-raising drive through the French countryside to get the rings, ten minutes before the bride was due to arrive. Nick, Jonas and Dutch navigator Sol first drove to the wrong B&B, then broke into the wrong room! A stray couple noticed the car skidding to a halt in the hotel carpark then moments later saw the men jumping out of the second story window and naturally enquired what they were doing?'. After another death defying drive back to the Church Jonas and Nick made it to Thor's side at the alter with the wrong rings (borrowed from the enquiring couple) only to learn by way of discrete mutters from Thor that Sonia had found the rings before leaving the hotel and brought them to the church. The proceedings sailed along and Thor and Sonia were as happy as croissants when the flashes clicked and the petals fluttered down.

The reception took place at Chateau de Demigny. Everyone mingled and chatted on the lawns and under the giant oaks. Seven courses were served, concluding with Onion soup at 5am. Goodness knows how we all managed to dance after so much delicious food but we did. The merriment continued the next day with all the guests re-convening back at the chateau for beer, brunch and a game of soccer, France vs La Monde. Nick kicked the opening goal.

That night after saying goodbye to old and new mates Nick and I drove back to Amsterdam, Schipol airport and caught a plane to London in the early hours. Planes and underground rides. We saw the Australian embassy to renew my passport. More trains, before legging it to Greame's apartment in West Hampstead where we collapsed thoroughly exhausted. Soccer passion was at fever pitch and Graham, Nick and I were able to soak some of it up in the form of crowded pubs and amber ale over the next three nights waiting for my passport application to be processed. We also had a look in the archives at Greenwich Maritime museum for records of Nick's Great-Granddad Chrystal's maritime career. Saying goodbye to Greame wasn't that hard because he was asleep when we crept out at daft o'clock and also because we are planning to get together again soon somewhere in South America for more good times. I think I slept the entire flight back to Aruba. The boat was where we left her; bonus.