-----Original Message-----
Sent: Monday, September 28, 2009 5:54 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Monday, September 28, 2009 (Day 1 of passage to Salvador, Brazil from Rio de Janeiro)

1000 local time Monday, September 28, 2009 (1200 GMT). Lat/Lon: 23º03'S, 042º46'W. Location: approximately 26 NM E of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and 40 NM W of Cabo Frio. Course and speed over ground: 90ºT @ 3.2 kts. Wind: SE <5 kts. Sea: Long ocean swell and some bouncy tidal current slop. Sky: 6/8 cloud cover -- lots of cirrus clouds filling in, harbingers of approaching cold front. Air temp: 81ºF outside and 80ºF inside. Barometer: 1014 mb. Water temp: 72ºF. Humidity: 66%. Current: About 1.5 kts against us. Sail/engine combination and tack: Motorsailing with engine at 1400 RPM and full main and staysail trimmed for close reach on starboard tack. Fishing: Just decided not to put out the trolling line, fearful of catching a diving brown booby, though there are fish jumping all around. Last 24 hour run: 0 NM -- we raised anchor in Rio/Niteroi at 0330 this morning to begin this passage. Average distance covered per day during passage: NA. Forecast: A cold front is due to pass over us at about midnight. By then we hope to have just rounded Cabo Frio, turning north to head up the coast of Brazil. The cold front will bring a change to southerly winds. It will also bring rain, potentially heavy, an unavoidable bonus accompanying winds blowing the direction we want to go. Though the latest forecast shows the cold front will be weaker than had been forecast a few days ago, meaning weaker and shorter-lived southerly winds, we still hope for two solid days of southerlies. Unless the south-setting current is so strong and the wind is so weak that we cannot average 4 kts, two days should be long enough to get us to the next large port, Vitoria, before the wind shifts back to the prevailing northeast. Thoughts: Estrela is now heading home to the U.S.! We anticipate arriving in southern Florida, 5000 NM away, by early February 2010. From there we'll travel north up the Intracoastal Waterway, reaching New England by June. We're beginning by sailing from Rio de Janeiro along the South American Atlantic coast to Tobago, our intended first stop in the Caribbean, as fast as weather, boat, and equipment let us. The first 700+ miles, from Rio to Salvador, Brazil will probably go slowly, however. This is because we will only be able to move north in small increments of a hundred to two hundred miles, during the passage of each new cold front bringing a short spell of southerly winds. After Salvador we should be able to move much more quickly, taking advantage of favorable and generally steady E to SE tradewinds dominant from there north to near the equator. In the vicinity of the equator we will encounter doldrums, an area called the Intertropical Convergence Zone, or ITCZ, marked by intense thunder and rain squalls and little wind. Once through this region we will pick up NE tradewinds which should carry us through the Caribbean.

* * * *

We motored out of Rio's Bay, past all the iconic symbols of this exciting city, Sugarloaf Mountain, the Corcovado (Christ Statue), Copacabana beach, and the favelas (slums), which creep up and cling to the mountainous terrain. Though sorry to say goodbye to the city and environs that have been our home for the last four months, we can't contain the excitement we all feel about finally heading home.

--Kyle, Doug, Eliza, and Abigail

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, September 30, 2009 3:24 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Tuesday, September 29, 2009 (Day 2 of passage to Salvador, Brazil from Rio de Janeiro)

1200 local time Tuesday, September 29, 2009 (1400 GMT). Lat/Lon: 22º33'S, 041º24'W. Location: approximately 600 NM SSW of Salvador, Brazil and 45 NM NE of Cabo Frio. Course and speed over ground: 43ºT @ 5.0 kts. Wind: SSW 11-16 kts. Sea: Choppy wind waves confused with longer south-setting swell, latter caused by southerly wind opposing south-setting current. Sky: 6/8 cover; sunny but with thin, high cirrus across most of sky. Air temp: 80ºF outside and 78ºF inside. Barometer: 1017 mb. Water temp: 73ºF. Humidity: 70%. Current: Estimated 0.5 kts against us. Sail/engine combination and tack: Sailing (finally!) with single-reefed main and staysail wing and wing on a dead run, starboard tack. Fishing: None. Last 24 hour run: 88 NM. Average distance covered per day during passage: 88 NM. Forecast: Southerly wind to continue for the next few days. Thoughts: We've jumped on the southerly wind conveyor belt and hope it takes us a long way north.

* * * * *

I was so thankful to have rounded Cabo Frio in a gentle wind. Like all great ocean capes (think, Cape of Good Hope, Cape Hatteras, even Cape Cod) Cabo Frio has a reputation for intensifying conditions, with unpredictable winds and a strong current. Phew! I've been dreading this moment for quite awhile, since hearing stories about yachts that took several attempts to get around. We turned the cape peacefully at 2300, the half-hidden moon illuminating the mountainous terrain only 3/4 of a mile away. For the next two hours a light breeze wafted from the west as we motorsailed up the coast. According to the grib files (weather maps we download via HF radio) the southerly change was due at 0100 on Tuesday . . .

With everyone asleep below, I stand alone in the cockpit, readying for an abrupt and violent wind shift. I keep running through the procedures in my head: put the engine in neutral and let out the mainsheet and head up to spill wind. 0100 comes and goes. No change. 0200, still nothing. I'm totally tense, waiting for the wind shift and keeping watch on all the vessel traffic -- fishing boats, cargo ships, and tankers. Many lights to make sense of. 0300 . . . . so, where is the southerly? Yes, it's possible to be hyped-up and sleepy at the same time. Only two hours til dawn. Very cold even with foulie jacket, long pants, and fleece cap. But I don't want to go below to warm-up. Need to stay ready for the southerly change and keep my eyes on the vessel approaching with two whites and a red light showing, only 2 miles away. 0500, the sky starts to lighten in the east. The night is almost over!

And then at 0530, the sails gently, imperceptibly tack. Could this be the southerly? No. Can't be. Where's the wind change that hits like a train? That's how we experienced the last cold front, when we were anchored in Rio. We were rowing back to Estrela in the dark, in the rain. Then I heard a rumbling noise. "What is that?" I yelled. "It sounds like a train!" I looked up and there 200 meters away was a black line on the water. "Row!" Abigail grabbed Estrela's lifeline just in time. BAM. It hit hard. So that scene has been in my mind all night, as I've waited. Then instead of a BAM, I get a puff.

I'll take the puff.

-- Kyle

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, October 01, 2009 3:36 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Wednesday, September 30, 2009 (Day 3 of passage to Salvador, Brazil from Rio de Janeiro)

1330 local time Wednesday, September 30, 2009 (1630 GMT). Lat/Lon: 21º04'S, 040º08'W. Location: approximately 500 NM SSW of Salvador, Brazil and 220 NM NE of Rio de Janeiro. Course and speed over ground: 34ºT @ 3.6 kts. Wind: SSW 18-23 kts. Sea: Short, steep, confused waves (more wind-vs-current effect). Sky: 8/8, thick, low and dark. Air temp: 77ºF outside and inside. Barometer: 1021 mb. Water temp: 77ºF (going up again). Humidity: 66%. Current: Estimated 1.5 kts against us. Sail/engine combination and tack: Sailing with double-reefed main and staysail wing and wing on a dead run, starboard tack. Fishing: None. Last 24 hour run: 100 NM. Average distance covered per day during passage: 94 NM. Forecast: Southerly wind to continue until shifting to east Friday. Thoughts: We may have sailed too far off-shore, trying to put easting in the bank in anticipation of the wind shifting to the east and then northeast beginning Friday. But we seem to have moved inadvertently into the main south-setting current. So now we'll slide more in-shore, back to the 100-meter depth contour, to see if the current slackens. If we can squeeze another 200 NM from this cold front before strong northerly winds return, we will be able reach the Abrolhos Archipelago, Brazil's famous marine national park of coral reefs and calving whales, which is 165 NM NNE of Vitoria and 32 NM off-shore and offers good anchoring protection from N to NE winds.

* * * * *

During this six-year voyage, I've gone through several phases of what I like best to do at sea. First it was dolls and dress-up. Abby and I would spend hours playing with our miniature American Girl dolls, dressing them in each other's outfits and ourselves in sarongs and Mom's skirts, acting queen. Then it was reading, at least for me because Abby wasn't reading yet, and I would devour small libraries on every passage, while Abby tried to coax me into playing with her. On the long passages from Chagos to Madagascar, and then from Madagascar to South Africa, our favorite activity became listening to audio books and making friendship bracelets. But after our year in South Africa, both of us were older: we carried more of the load. We navigated, measured the sun's angle at noon, and calculated positions from the measurements, plotting them on the big paper chart and following our progress west. We cooked meals and washed the dishes sometimes. We helped with sail changes and repairs. And I stood a watch at night. Any spare time left over, Abby and I spent reading, out loud and to ourselves, or playing games, but mostly it was back to reading.

Now it's different. Choro, the unflappable, adaptable sea cat, rules the days and nights aboard Estrela. He is the center of attention. (Our dolls are jealous.) You can't ignore him. After six years of being deprived of pets, we are pathetic, fussing over him like first-time baby-sitters, spoon-feeding him the remnants of the day's home-made yogurt, dropping everything to hover over him if he shows any hint of needing to use the litter box or of wanting to play. We spoil him. And in return, he is everything we could ask for in a cat.

This is Choro's first big passage, and we were all anxious about how he would manage. (Will he get sea-sick? Will he try to leap overboard? Will he fall overboard? How will he handle the heeling and bumping and rocking of the wind and waves? Will he hate us after this?) We crossed our fingers throughout the first day. Incredibly, amazingly, he was fine, normal even, just as feisty and cautious as always. When he fled, as usual, to the forepeak to escape the grating engine noises, Abby followed him to comfort him, and eventually she made a little nest for herself there, behind the lee cloth and in between the instrument cases and the other things we stow there to keep out of the way. The pair of them are there now, Abby knitting and reading, and Choro drowsing by her shoulder.

The funniest thing, though, is how he deals with Estrela's pitch and roll. We humans can lean against things when the boat jerks, but Choro can't. Instead, he sways, his legs spread wide as he tries to navigate the cabin floor. I'm sure it would look just as hilarious to watch me from above as I lurch from place to place, banging into things, but seeing a cat coping with the waves . . . I can't stop the grin from sliding up my face.

-- Eliza

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, October 01, 2009 3:36 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Thursday, October 1, 2009 (Day 4 of passage to Salvador, Brazil from Rio de Janeiro)

1100 local time Thursday, October 1, 2009 (1300 GMT). Lat/Lon: 19º34'S, 039º34'W. Location: approximately 400 NM SSW of Salvador, Brazil and 320 NM NE of Rio de Janeiro. Course and speed over ground: 22ºT @ 6.4 kts. Wind: SSE 18-21 kts. Sea: Rolly (sometimes violently, causing us to scoop water, filling the cockpit well as we bury the leeward gunwale), but at least more regular than during most of the last 24 hrs. Sky: 8/8, dark rain squalls visible in every quadrant. Air temp: 77ºF outside and inside. Barometer: 1025 mb, still rising. Water temp: Unknown -- we lost our trusty pool thermometer a few minutes ago; it finally disintegrated while being dragged through the water. Humidity: 64%. Current: Not sure, but judging from our speed and the regular seas, there's probably a small in-shore counter-current (0.5 kt?) pushing us north. Depth: 115'; we are well up on the large bank from which rises the coral limestone islands of the Abrolhos Archipelago, 107 NM north of us, our immediate destination. Sail/engine combination and tack: Motorsailing on starboard tack with double-reefed main and staysail poled to starboard to prevent the sail flogging as we roll; we're running the engine (1000 RPM) to charge batteries depleted by another night of using radar and the AIS radio and computer to track ships. Fish, birds, and other wildlife: Two large flying fish (biggest we've ever seen) leapt aboard in the middle of the night as we rolled down into a wave (see Choro's entry below to learn their fate); we've had two whale sightings in the last 24 hours, the second, a mother and her calf, which we passed this morning swimming slowly northward about two boat lengths to starboard. Last 24 hour run: 100 NM. Average distance covered per day during passage: 96 NM. Forecast: Wind gradually to lighten and shift from SSE to E and then ENE by Friday afternoon, staying out of the north long enough for us to reach a protected anchorage in Abrolhos. Thoughts: Heading back in-shore yesterday worked; we escaped most of the unwelcome influence of the main south-setting Brazil Current. Plenty of ship traffic dogged us all night, especially during Kyle's watch, which began at 0030. Poor visibility in squalls heightened anxiety, as we ran parallel to but shoreward of a large oil field serviced by many active vessels ranging in size from a hundred to several hundred feet long.

* * * * *

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Dear Journal,

You'll never guess what I had for breakfast this morning. But before I tell you that, I must tell you the whole story . . . I was lying on the bench, in one of my favorite haunts down below, trying to keep myself from sliding off every time the boat rolled. Then suddenly the humans started calling to me. They were all up above, and for some reason they wanted me to come up too. Being tired, I stayed where I was until I smelled it . . . the rich, juicy aroma of fresh meat, mixed with a subtle and deep scent, like the salty water that surrounds the boat. The smell drew me up into the cockpit, where two strange creatures lay dead. They were about a tail-length long and the same width as a fluffed-up tail. Their coats were bluish-grey and shiny. I tried to bite one, but its coat was too hard, so I settled for licking. Then the biggest human, whose name, I think, is Dog, picked up one of the creatures and, using a long, straight, and shiny claw, cut a piece off and gave it to me. I grasped it in my teeth and ran down below to eat it. The flavor was exit [translator's note: I believe Choro means "exquisite"]. As soon as I had swallowed the last morsel, I raced up for more. The humans fed me eight or nine pieces in this new way until I had completely devered [translator's note: I believe Choro means "devoured"] the first creature. My belly felt pleasantly full. I left the other fish for the humans to take care of, sauntered back to my spot on the bench, and began to give myself a good, long wash. The food may have been tasty, but it sure was sticky. While I was licking my tail, I heard the humans talk about a "fis" (or something that sounded like that), so I assume I had "fis" for breakfast.

-- Choro, the Sea Cat [translated from mews and yowls by Abigail C.]

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Saturday, October 03, 2009 5:55 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Friday, October 2, 2009 (Day 5 of passage to Salvador, Brazil from Rio de Janeiro)

1330 local time Thursday, October 1, 2009 (1630 GMT). Lat/Lon: 17º57.64'S, 038º41.86'W. Location: The Abrolhos Archipelago National Marine Park, approximately 300 NM S of Salvador, Brazil and 420 NM NE of Rio de Janeiro. Course and speed over ground: None, anchored in 27' on sandy bottom with 200' chain and snubber. Wind: ESE 9-13 kts. Sea: Some roll caused by a strong SE well wrapping around the island to this anchorage on the NE corner. Sky: 2/8. Air temp: 85ºF outside and 84ºF inside. Barometer: 1019 mb, falling. Water temp: Unknown, but feels a little warmer than in Rio. Humidity: 52% (getting drier). Current: A slight outgoing tidal current opposing the wind is making us skew around on the anchor chain. Depth: 27' at close to high tide -- but there is an eight-foot tidal range today. Sail/engine combination and tack: NA. Fish, birds, and other wildlife: We passed many more whales during the last 50 miles of our approach to the islands; two large turtles have already surfaced near us in the anchorage; and we see many red tropicbirds circling above. It was in Pitcairn Island that we first fell in love with these noisy, gaudy birds with long wispy, white tails, which favor rocky cliffs for their nests. Last 24 hour run: 110 NM. Average distance covered per day during passage: 100 NM. Forecast: We don't have an updated weather forecast, because disturbing HF radio trouble, which began two days ago, has prevented us from downloading a new grib file. But according to a friend we are very happy to have run into in this anchorage, Rod on the South African yacht, Sheer Tenacity, we won't get a new southerly to push us further north until Tuesday. In the meantime we can expect light ESE to ENE wind. Thoughts: We could probably continue sailing north with easterlies, but it would be a shame to pass up this opportunity to explore Abrolhos. We have had especially good fortune, not only to have made it all the way from Rio in a single weather window, but also to have arrived in nearly benign conditions that invite us to stay.

* * * * *

The friendly marine park official, Fillipe, a naturalist, and Sandro, the Navy officer accompanying him, visited Estrela in their fast inflatable launch shortly after we had finished anchoring. In much better English than most of the other Brazilian officials we have encountered to date, Fillipe explained the park rules (take nothing and leave nothing, as in most terrestrial national parks); told us we didn't have to pay a park fee since it's a matter of navigational safety that we've stopped here to await favorable southerly winds (his suggested interpretation of our stop); offered to guide us (again, for free) to explore on foot the only island in the archipelago, Ilha Sariba, where visitors may go ashore; and advised us that the water visibility, and therefore the snorkeling, should be much better in a few days, after the big southerly swell dies down and ENE winds make the anchorage on the southern side of the main Abrolhos island, where there are more extensive coral reefs, comfortable again for anchoring. Kyle and I are dog tired, grateful to be anchored, and looking forward to a good night's sleep in just a few hours. What a beautiful spot.

-- Doug

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Saturday, October 10, 2009 5:36 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Saturday, October 10, 2009 (Day 1 of passage from Abrolhos National Marine Park to Salvador, Brazil )

1130 local time Saturday, October 10, 2009 (1430 GMT). LAT/LON: 16º47'S, 038º36'W. LOCATION: approximately 230 NM S of Salvador, Brazil and 70 NM N of Abrolhos National Marine Park. COURSE AND SPEED OVER GROUND: 10ºT @ 5.2 kts. WIND: S 17-21 kts. SEA: Short, steep chop and a longer swell combining to slew us around. SKY: 8/8, thick, low overcast. AIR TEMP: 80ºF outside and 81ºF inside. BAROMETER: 1016 mb, steady. WATER TEMP: Warm (still no replacement thermometer). HUMIDITY: 70%. CURRENT: Probably about a half a knot against us. DEPTH: Off-soundings; we are sailing parallel to the coast about 30 NM offshore, putting us now just seaward of the continental shelf, about 6000' above the abyssal floor; in another 60 miles we will be coming back up on another shallow bank with many small fishing boats. SAIL/ENGINE COMBINATION AND TACK: Sailing wing and wing on starboard tack with single-reefed main and staysail. FISH, BIRDS, AND OTHER WILDLIFE: Minutes ago Abby cut loose a longline we had snagged. Eliza and Abigail heard a racket and leapt into the cockpit. "What's that sound!" they yelled. "Did we get another big flying fish?" We peered overboard and discovered a thick, black fishing line streaming aft along both sides, almost humming through the water, Styrofoam floats banging the hull (the unusual sound), and large hooks baited with small fish dangling on short branch lines every few meters. We must have snagged the longline on our bobstay as we plunged through the chop. There was nothing to do but cut it free, without entangling our rudder or prop, we hoped. For a moment we looked sadly from one to another, each thinking of what the poor fisherman would find. At least the ends would be marked by buoys, enabling the line's retrieval. Abby grabbed the razor-sharp dive knife strapped to the companionway ladder for just this emergency. The taut line snapped, whipping aft with great force as she pressed the blade against it, first on Estrela's starboard side and then the port, and we hauled aboard the ten meters of line and floats snagged to Estrela's bow. Thank goodness this had happened in daylight, and when the prop wasn't turning. LAST 24 HR RUN: N/A, we raised anchor in Abrolhos to begin this passage at only 1930 last night. AVERAGE DISTANCE COVERED PER DAY DURING PASSAGE: N/A. FORECAST: We believe we can expect SE to SW winds for at least another 36 hours; but frankly we are not all that sure, since we missed getting a forecast yesterday; so we are very keen to download one this evening. THOUGHTS: We're discussing the option of stopping in the Camamu estuary, about 60 NM S of Salvador, depending on the next couple weather forecasts and on the kind of progress we can maintain. This time of year, traveling N and NE along the vast central Brazilian coast is possible only in short hops, when the prevailing N and NE winds swing temporarily to SE to SW. For this passage we are riding a wonderful southerly generated by a small low pressure system, which spun off the coast about 150 NM S of Abrolhos.

* * * * *

Remember the last southerly change, off Cabo Frio, which came as a puff and not a train? Well, the southerly change yesterday was a train, a big freight train, and 14 hours early. We weren't ready.

The Grib files had predicted the arrival of a cold front at 0600 Sat (this morning!), bringing an abrupt change from north to south wind, but still fairly light. We'd been here in Abrolhos for one week, waiting for this wind, so we could continue on our way north. All day Friday rain squall after rain squall swept over us from the north. I scrubbed the decks in one downpour. We all showered in another. Snorkel gear soaked in the fresh water pooling on the deck. We collected buckets of rain and stored it in two expandable 20 liter water bladders. What a great way to start a passage, all fresh and full.

With bread rising in the oven and watermaker running (we have to run it every few days on passage to keep the membrane fresh), we still had several hours of chores to get Estrela ready for sea, especially stowing down below and tie-downs on deck. But our most important immediate job was to re-anchor further from shore, in anticipation of the southerly wind shift, which we knew would give us a very close lee shore. You never know, we speculated, the southerly could come during the night. . .

Doug looked up from pouring diesel from a jerry can into the starboard tank. "Kyle, come up and look at the sky. Has that black system already passed us?" There was, to the south of us, the darkest, angriest, blackest line of clouds I had seen in a long time. "Oh, I hope so," I said nervously. We went back to work. Five minutes later, it was clear the black line was getting closer, not farther away. "Gee, Doug, could this be the southerly change?"

"All hands on deck," yelled Captain Doug. "Eliza, stop the watermaker, start the engine, and turn on the electronics. We have to up-anchor now! Abigail, pump out the dinghy and help me lift the outboard onto Estrela. Kyle, get the anchor up. NOW!"

BANG! It blasted us with 25 knots of wind and a huge downpour. Estrela's stern swung 180º to just 30 feet off the island's fringing reef and choppy waves started building up. It's amazing how fast one can haul up 170 feet of chain when it really counts! And then we were off, motoring east around the island, and taking the onslaught on the beam, heading to the northern side to find temporary shelter to anchor and sort ourselves out.

Phew. Three hours later, I hauled up the anchor again, in the pitch black and the rain, and we sailed away, a dramatic end to our idyllic time in Abrolhos.

-- Kyle

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, October 15, 2009 6:58 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Sunday, October 11, 2009 (Day 2 of passage from Abrolhos National Marine Park to Salvador, Brazil )

1030 local time Sunday, October 11, 2009 (1330 GMT). LAT/LON: 14º46'S, 038º27'W. LOCATION: approximately 104 NM S of Salvador, Brazil and 192 NM N of Abrolhos National Marine Park. COURSE AND SPEED OVER GROUND: 16ºT @ 4.8 kts. WIND: SSE 14-18 kts. SEA: Gentle, easy roll. SKY: 7/8, beginning to clear, maybe. AIR TEMP: 84ºF outside and 84ºF inside. BAROMETER: 1015 mb, steady. WATER TEMP: Warm (still no replacement for our trusty pool thermometer). HUMIDITY: 71% (sticky). CURRENT: Can't really tell; possibly none. DEPTH: Off-soundings. SAIL/ENGINE COMBINATION AND TACK: Sailing wing and wing downwind on starboard tack with single-reefed main and staysail. FISH, BIRDS, AND OTHER WILDLIFE: Trolling with a feathered lure on a "yo-yo" handline; only action so far has been watching a large tuna-like dorsal fin slash back and forth near the lure shortly after we let it out. LAST 24 HR RUN: 117 NM. AVERAGE DISTANCE COVERED PER DAY DURING PASSAGE: 117 NM. FORECAST: This is a big question mark . . . the grib file wx forecast we received yesterday evening was faulty; for some reason we were sent an out-of-date forecast that had entirely missed even the arrival of the cold front and southerly winds at Abrolhos on Friday. So we have no idea how long these southerly winds will last. The system does seem more powerful and enduring than we had initially expected, and if we knew we'd have southerly winds for even a day or two longer we would sail a little closer to the wind and aim for Maceio, the next possible stopping place, about 300 NM NNE of Salvador. THOUGHTS FROM THE BRIDGE: We are going to continue at least as far as Salvador, rather than stopping 60 NM S at Camamu estuary. The most immediate reason is that we would arrive off the entrance to Camamu estuary in the dark, requiring us to heave-to for hours to await daylight and a favorable slack tidal current. Alternatively, we could sail on to Salvador by early afternoon tomorrow, carrying us just a little further up the coast. Every mile counts at this point. Besides, despite our ambivalence about visiting this city, after hearing many stories of yacht crews being mugged near the downtown marina, we have been curious to experience even a little of Salvador. Its culture is said to be very different from Rio's, with stronger African influences. We've learned there is a safe place to anchor off Ilha Itaparica, an island across the bay from Salvador.

* * * * *

Boa tarde, or should I say, good afternoon. My name is Angelinha. I'm a juvenile French Angelfish. I live here in this amazing place called Abrolhos National Marine Park. I'm proud to say that this is the oldest marine park in Brasil. Everyone is very nice here. It's supposed to be one of the safest places around. Well, safe from human attacks, that is. We don't pay much attention to humans, anyway. They never do anything but swim underwater and stare at us. So, may I show you around? You'll get to meet all the other creatures. May I? Sim, yes? Obrigada, thank you.

Ok, first we'll go to the shallows. Let's swim along the bottom and say hello to Gary the Grouper. He lives in that cave over there. Oh hello, Gary. Taking a little swim out of your cave? Well, we won't bother you, so goodbye, tchau.

Here we are in the shallows. Over there, my mom and Gay, a Gray Angelfish, are at the gym doing water aerobics with Instructor Elizabeth, a Queen Angelfish. Watch out, Mom! Here comes a school of Sergeant Majors! I think they're going march right through your class. Those soldiers always get in the way.

Now how about we go to the deeper water and see Dr. Barnard, our local Ocean Surgeon. If you swim a little faster you'll stay warmer in the deep water, which is colder.

Wow. The doctor's waiting room sure is full. Stripey (a Bluestriped Grunt), Wilbur (a Porkfish), and Billy (a Goatfish) are all in line ahead of us. Darn. I wanted to show Dr. Barnard my first adult half-crescent marking. Oh well.

Let's go to the drop-off. Maybe we can get a glimpse of Snout the Snapper. He's always lurking somewhere under the ledges. We'll try to catch a ride on those nonchalant Green Turtles over there.

Sprite! Fanta! Could you give us a lift? . . . Oh, sea lice . . . It looks as though Trixi, a Queen Triggerfish, and Barry, a Blue Tang, have already grabbed shell. Too bad, it's too far to swim to the drop-off on our own.

Come on, I'll show you some coral instead. Go slowly, as not to scare the little Bridled Gobies, which hide in the sand. They are very shy. There's one -- but now he's gone.

Over there is some colorful coral. It's one of the few healthy-looking patches in this small bay where I live, between Ilha Redonda and Ilha Siriba. I feel sorry for Polly, my friend the Blue Parrotfish, because she eats coral and there isn't much in our neighborhood. Polly told me that in the really deep water there is a special type of coral that grows only in Abrolhos. She called it a mushroom coral, or something like that.

Oh dear! Here comes Twilight, a Dusky Damselfish, and Prune, a Purple Reeffish. They are both very aggressive, and Mom told me not to go near them. Quick, let's swim behind Spike's Place. Spike is a spiny lobster and hates trespassers, so I hope he doesn't see us.

Uuhhh . . . Holy hammerhead!! Stop!! Don't move. B e s i l e n t. There is a yellowish-pink eel burrowing in the grass below us. I can't tell if he is friend or foe, so let's back away quietly. Ok, now turn around and . . . SWIM!!!

It's getting dark. We'd better head back to the shallows. Mom hates it when I'm late for dinner, especially when it's tunicate and algae casserole.

-- Abigail C. (and Mom)

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Friday, October 16, 2009 6:34 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Monday, October 12, 2009 (Day 3 of passage from Abrolhos National Marine Park to Salvador, Brazil )

1435 local time Monday, October 12, 2009 (1735 GMT). LAT/LON: 12º53'S, 038º41'W. LOCATION: Itaparica anchorage, a short ferry ride from Salvador across Baia de Todos os Santos (Bay of All Saints). COURSE AND SPEED OVER GROUND: None. WIND: S 6-9 kts. SEA: Calm. SKY: 6/8, but sun peaking through. AIR TEMP: 86ºF outside and 90ºF inside. BAROMETER: 1012 mb. WATER TEMP: Very warm; it has to be over 80ºF. HUMIDITY: 65%. CURRENT: There seems to be a little tidal flow here, but not enough to keep us from lying to the wind. DEPTH: 18' at mid tide; there is a 5' to 8' range at the current moon phase. SAIL/ENGINE COMBINATION AND TACK: Anchored in 18' over sandy bottom with 100' of chain out plus a 12' snubber. FISH, BIRDS, AND OTHER WILDLIFE: Kyle saw two humpback whales spouting about 10 miles south of the entrance to Baia de Todos os Santos. LAST 24 HR RUN: 120 NM. AVERAGE DISTANCE COVERED PER DAY DURING PASSAGE: 119 NM. FORECAST: We still haven't received an updated forecast. The radio trouble we've been experiencing has grown worse; we can't download grib files and we don't even know when we'll be able to post this log entry. So we were forced to rely on old-fashioned sailor techniques, like, watching the barometer (first down, then back up, then steady, then back down again . . . in other words, inconclusive) and the wind direction (gentle southerlies held steady until an ugly black line overtook us at 1630 yesterday and we had an abrupt change to E and then NE, ending our musings about carrying on to Maceio). THOUGHTS FROM THE BRIDGE: This quiet anchorage at the NW tip of Ilha Itaparica is only a few miles from the huge city of Salvador but seems to be in a different world. The water is warm and clean (good for swimming off the boat), we are protected from wind and swell, the holding is great, and we have plenty of room around us -- ideal conditions for us to bathe and relax this evening and sleep soundly tonight. We are beat; this has been an exhausting three-day passage, but we feel very fortunate to have been carried almost all the way from Rio de Janeiro to Salvador by southerly winds, more than 700 nautical miles. We have a few big chores to take care of here, including topping up diesel and buying a few food staples and fresh fruit and vegetables. But the most important job is to solve our ICOM SSB radio trouble. Losing the radio blinds us when we're at sea; we can't get the weather forecasts we need and can't talk with other sailors or check in with radio nets, which have been so central to our strategy for safe passage-making. And no SSB means no email communication -- including no log postings to www.sailingestrela.com -- except when we are in a port and can find an internet connection. If the radio trouble doesn't go away after we simply check and clean all the connection points among the radio, the Pactor modem, the antenna tuner, and the antenna, then we probably won't be able to get the radio working properly again until the Caribbean, and even there, only if we are lucky. We learned from a Seattle yacht whom we met in Rio that ICOM repairs, both parts and service, are outrageously expensive in Brazil. So we wouldn't even try taking in the radio somewhere for service until we reach the Caribbean. But we would probably think very seriously about buying a satphone before we left Salvador, not a fun prospect, considering what a satphone is likely to cost in Brazil.

* * * * *

10/09/09

In Portuguese, Abrolhos means "open eyes." Because of the many dangerous reefs here, a sailor must stay alert, eyes open to avoid becoming the next shipwreck. But I think the name also refers to the fact that there are so many incredible animals to see here, you must keep your eyes wide open not to miss anything: a whale slapping its tail in the water, a frigate bird attacking a booby, a turtle surfacing for a breath.

While the air and water temperatures are hot here, this is not your typical tropical paradise destination, with coconut palms and crystal blue sea and long white beaches. It is barren, low-lying, and rocky. A handful of battered palms still grow in a line on one island, planted by fishermen as a range pointing to the continent, but otherwise the vegetation is just grasses. On the largest of the five islands, Ilha de Santa Barbara, a mere kilometer and a half long and a quarter kilometer wide, a majestic French-designed lighthouse stands alone on a bluff, marking the site of a tiny naval outpost and the park headquarters. But what makes the Abrolhos a fascinating stop is the wildlife, which thrives because of the protection of the marine national park.

We felt fortunate to have had the chance to spend time here, as Abrolhos is very isolated and difficult to get to. Most of the visitors are scuba divers on one of the six live-aboard dive boats specially certified for Abrolhos, all of them based in Caravelas, 37 miles away on the mainland. The others, like us, are sailors on yachts, with weather settled enough to anchor for a few days. There were only two other yachts in the island group while we were there.

Four days after we arrived at the archipelago, we took a guided walk around Ilha Siriba. It is the one island where visitors are allowed ashore, and then only with a guide; the others are entirely off-limits, to protect the many birds that live on them.

Our guide was Felipe, a friendly young Brazilian biologist who has been working in Abrolhos for a year. He picked us up in his dinghy at about ten in the morning, and we motored a kilometer across to Siriba from the anchorage at Santa Barbara. We walked around the island, watching the birds and listening to Felipe tell us, in slow English, about them and their habitat.

The four main species of seabirds in Abrolhos naturally segregate themselves among the islands: the frigate birds living only on Ilha Redonda; the brown boobies on Ilha Sueste; the white boobies on Ilha de Santa Barbara and Ilha Siriba; and the tropic birds on all the islands, but only in rocky caves and on cliff faces, where the other species don't nest. I never learned what sorts of birds live on the fifth and smallest island, Ilha Guarita.

So almost all the birds we saw were white boobies. Unlike in most other places we have visited, where we've felt lucky if we have seen both adults and juveniles of an animal species, on Siriba we had the privilege of observing boobies in all stages of their life cycle. Eggs in the nest, newborn chicks huddled under a parent (male and female white boobies share in caring for the babies), belligerent young juveniles fighting for social dominance and a piece of land on Siriba, dignified-looking adults perched on the rocks, and a few sun-baked carcasses littered on the grass - everything was right there, a few meters from, and sometimes on, the path.

>From the moment we landed on their island, the boobies acted completely unafraid of us. We even had to step around a few birds and their nests. They stared at us blankly. I don't know exactly why these boobies were so unperturbed by our presence. According to Felipe, white boobies are less fearful than brown boobies, one reason why Siriba was chosen as the visitors' island. As far as I know, the boobies have also not been attacked by humans for at least twenty years, ever since a national park was established in Abrolhos. But that may not mean anything, because the woodhens in Lord Howe Island and the tortoises in the Galapagos, both species harvested by the thousands by hungry sailors and now protected in national parks, never seemed to learn that being friendly to humans could be dangerous. Perhaps these birds are just habituated to a very predictable pattern of human behavior: the organized guided walks of the divers and yachties and the research conducted by the national park people.

Whatever the reason, the simple fact that the white boobies on Siriba were completely unafraid of us made our walk with Felipe refreshing and fascinating. I'm glad we decided to stay in Abrolhos a few days longer rather than pushing on, even though Dad said the wind was almost from a good enough angle for us to continue north. This place truly is magical.

-- Eliza

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Monday, October 19, 2009 7:38 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Monday, October 19, 2009 (Anchored in harbor at NW end of Ilha Itaparica, Salvador, Brazil )

1530 local time Monday, October 19, 2009 (1830 GMT). LAT/LON: 12º53'S, 038º41'W. LOCATION: Ilha Itaparica anchorage, Baia de Todos os Santos, near Salvador, Bahia, Brazil. COURSE AND SPEED OVER GROUND: None. WIND: E 13-15 kts. SEA: Very slight wind chop. SKY: 2/8, very sunny. AIR TEMP: 86ºF outside and 88ºF inside. BAROMETER: 1011 mb. WATER TEMP: Very warm. HUMIDITY: 54%. CURRENT: None; it's slack tide. DEPTH: 16', spring high tide. SAIL/ENGINE COMBINATION AND TACK: Anchored over sandy bottom with 100' of chain out plus a 12' snubber. FISH, BIRDS, AND OTHER WILDLIFE: Many local fishermen work near us every day -- some with traps left out over night; some with long, small-mesh nets they work like a seine to encircle their quarry, one end held by a man standing in the shallows of a drying sand bank and the other end fed out and pulled around by three others in a dug-out canoe/row-boat; some diving for lobsters with a compressor and "hookah" breathing device; some searching the bottom for small conch with mask and snorkel, and sometimes fins, and a small floating net towed along to hold their catch; some standing chest-deep, casting a willowy, long rod and small lure back and forth, like a trout fly rod; and some digging thumbnail-sized hard clams on the muddy side of the drying bank. This activity has fascinated us and we purchased a mix of fish and other creatures one day to make a delicious bouillabaisse. But we have a hard time imagining these fish, shellfish, and crustaceans will withstand such seemingly intense fishing pressure. As a sign that some populations are already stressed, most of what we saw were small, maybe even juveniles. LAST 24 HR RUN: NA. AVERAGE DISTANCE COVERED PER DAY DURING PASSAGE: NA. FORECAST: We are receiving forecasts daily now, and are waiting eagerly for an indication that another cold front will pass through, either bringing a change to southerly wind, or killing the wind altogether for two or three days. During the week we have been here the wind has remained very consistently from NE to E (the wrong direction for us), with an overlaying land/sea breeze effect, which, though it might help us at first, would have a diminished effect after we had gone a few miles off shore. To make it through the next 300-400 miles we may just have to motorsail against an E to NE headwind; we would hope at least to time our trip to have light headwinds. This time of year we might have to wait a long time to get truly favorable winds for this next leg of this trip, from Salvador to Recife. After Recife, the coast begins to curve back to the north and E winds would be favorable. Moreover, after Recife, the prevailing wind is more E than NE, the reverse of the pattern here in Salvador. THOUGHTS FROM THE BRIDGE: I seem to have solved our radio problem. The frequencies the radio had totally lost can now be tuned in again, and we have had two very successful connections to Sailmail, with transmission speeds much faster than we had been getting almost since part way through our passage from South Africa to St. Helena. Because I am radio illiterate, I don't know which of my radio repair efforts yielded the positive results. I checked all the connectors, cleaned any that seemed other than pristine, and took apart those I thought I would be able to reassemble. A couple connectors seemed loose, and though no soldered points had come apart, one tiny wire had chafed through the insulation and might have been shorting on a piece of bare metal. We are all breathing a little easier and are hopeful the radio has been restored to its old reliable self. We are also happy it appears that we won't have to buy a satphone just a few months shy of home.

* * * * *

Here's what we've been doing in Itaparica during the last week:

- catch up on sleep, having family "lights out" by 9PM

- avoid intense daytime heat, by getting up at 5AM and doing most outdoor work before 10AM or after 3PM

- do school, including Abigail constructing a scale for science unit on measurement, using dowel rod, string, 2 empty tuna cans, 3 carabiners, 2 cable ties, and Blu-tack

- begin study of slavery in the Americas, including learning about Salvador's central importance in Brazil's slave history and watching first episode of "Roots" mini-series on DVD

- repair SSB radio

- do medium grocery shop (approx. $150) at deli-sized grocery store, with free delivery back to marina

- go swimming (a lot)

- replace genoa roller furling line and genoa sheets (cannibalizing old spinnaker and genoa halyards and whipping ends)

- replace cockpit depth sounder display with new spare

- replace remote cockpit VHF microphone cord and socket with new spares

- replace engine fan belt

- change engine oil, and buy new 5-liter jug of oil

- wire NMEA GPS output from Raymarine chartplotter to VHF radio and to notebook computer

- soak and dry salty lines, jackline webbing, and harness tethers

- refill empty main LPG bottle (one of two) w/gravity-feed system on foredeck using spare LPG bottle carried on side deck

- top up main diesel tanks and refill six x 20 liter jerry jugs at local service station (approx $1.15/liter), via taxi

- make two trips on foot to nearby mineral spring to fill jerry jugs with 2 x 100 liters of delicious, potable water

- print photos on board for three fishermen from whom we bought fish and who asked to have their pictures taken

- take Choro to drying sand bank (becomes an island at low tide and disappears at high tide) for picnic breakfast

- eat traditional Bahian food at a street vendor and a local restaurant

- wash several large bags of laundry on deck in buckets and hang to dry -- several days of work, including rowing back and forth to collect wash water at marina tap

- figure out how to get wifi on board Estrela, for about $3/day (first internet access on board since South Africa)

- troubleshoot Sanyo waterproof video camera, which became stuck in "Demo" mode in Abrolhos

- replace connectors in wiring for LPG solenoid and gas-leak detector

- try unsuccessfully to repair salt-damaged cockpit speakers

- help fellow cruisers navigate Byzantine cell phone SIM-card activation process

- download new 7-day weather forecasts daily

- read aloud Jack London's, "A Daughter of the Snows"

-- Doug, Kyle, Eliza, and Abigail

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Tuesday, November 03, 2009 7:14 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Tuesday, November 3, 2009 (Day 2 of passage from Salvador to Cabedelo, Brazil)

1600 local time Tuesday, November 3, 2009 (1900 GMT). LAT/LON: 11º40'S, 037º12'W. LOCATION: approximately 330 NM SW of Cabedelo and 130 NM NE of Salvador (Itaparica), Brazil, and 15 miles off the coast. COURSE AND SPEED OVER GROUND: 42ºT @ 3.4 kts. WIND: NE 11-13 kts. SEA: Awkward wind chop and modest swell. SKY: 6/8, many different types of clouds; strong sun breaking through. AIR TEMP: 88ºF outside and 86ºF inside. BAROMETER: 1015 mb. WATER TEMP: Getting warmer. HUMIDITY: 58%. CURRENT: About 1 to 1.5 kts against us. DEPTH: Off-soundings; approx 3000'. SAIL/ENGINE COMBINATION AND TACK: Motorsailing on starboard tack with single-reefed main and staysail, both sheeted flat, and engine at 1175 RPM. FISH, BIRDS, AND OTHER WILDLIFE: Abby landed a small skipjack tuna this morning, which fed us (including Choro) a delicious lunch. Eliza and I watched yesterday afternoon as Estrela passed a couple feet from an enormous dead sea turtle whose flesh hung in ribbons from its neck and legs; we wonder what killed it. An hour ago a large pod of acrobatic spinner dolphins intercepted us and played alongside and in our bow wave for about twenty minutes. The biggest show-offs leapt into the air spinning madly through an arc maybe ten feet high. LAST 24 HR RUN: 95 NM. AVERAGE DISTANCE COVERED PER DAY DURING PASSAGE: 95 NM. FORECAST: Continued wind on the nose (NE) at 10-15 kts for the next two days; our weather along this stretch of coast at this time of the year is not driven by the passage of lows and associated cold fronts (as it is south of Salvador); instead we have steady northeast winds with difficult to predict occasional variations to more easterly and, more rarely, to slightly south of east. THOUGHTS FROM THE BRIDGE: We and about seven other foreign yachts in the Salvador area have taken this "weather window" to travel north around the "bulge" of Brazil. The "window" means no more than that we have received a barely reliable forecast of slightly diminished wind strength and slightly more easterly wind direction along the coast for a few days. Still, it's the best forecast we have seen in three weeks. We have a tough go ahead of us. I can't remember another time in six years that we have begun a substantial passage (this leg to Cabedelo being about 460 NM) planning to motorsail most of the way. So far we have run the engine for 34 hours straight, stopping briefly every eight hours to check fluid levels, belt tension, and drip pan. Instead of juggling sail combinations we have to monitor fuel consumption. The alternative to this carbon-rich strategy would be a grueling upwind sail against wind and current in which we might average 30 miles per day much of the way toward Cabedelo. The math is stark. Motorsailing we may make it in 5 to 6 days; sailing only we might need 10 days to two weeks. The good news is that from Cabedelo we should begin to get current in our favor and to have excellent wind for sailing on toward the Caribbean.

* * * * *

"1130 -- D feeling not well (normal sick, not seasick) and sleeping on table bed. K taking nap on lower seaberth. A writing her new story on the Mac. Choro asleep in the forepeak to hide from the engine noises. So I'm on watch! All quiet on deck."

I finished the log entry quickly and fiddled with the chart plotter to find our course and speed. Beep, beep. Time to look around, my watch was telling me.

I climbed into the cockpit and stood up, squinting against the glare of sun on water. My hat flopped over my eyes in the wind. I paused my scan of the horizon to brush the cloth brim from my face, and it was then that I saw them. Two beautifully new, triangular yellow buoys ahead -- very close.

Panic. Adrenaline. Mental sirens.

My hand clutched at my thudding heart. Where had these come from? Hadn't I just looked around? Well, ten minutes ago, but still: how could these bright markers have evaded my gaze? No time to think. We were headed directly between them, and they seemed to open their arms in a deadly trap. If they were fishing buoys, then a net would be strung between them, and the ropes would catch on the propeller if I motored through.

I felt completely alone. A quick glance below showed my parents snoring and my sister absorbed in her writing. Only Choro was available. I could just imagine the headlines. "Fourteen-year-old Girl and Seasick Cat Wreck the Family Boat on Remote Part of Brazilian Coast While Rest of Crew Sleeps." No! Will not happen!

I jabbed at the Standby button on the autopilot and wrenched the tiller hard to starboard. We glided past the yellow buoys, barely missing the left hand one. After I got us back on course, I stared intently to port and starboard to see if these buoys were alone or two in a long string. Sure enough there was another to port; we'd sailed right between two of them.

To make sure we hadn't hooked a net after all, I ran to the bow, dodging spray, and leaned over to look. Nothing, thank goodness. And the same for the stern. I saw no lines wrapped around the propeller, a situation that would have called for immediate over-the-side dive work to clear.

When I looked behind us ten minutes later, I could see no hint of the buoys. That's how long it takes from being in a huge calamity to being safe.

I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed deeply, my hand trembling. I had no clue what the mysterious buoys were, or even if they were a danger, but I felt as though I'd averted some peril for Estrela.

It's exhausting being Superman. That's what you have to be when you're on watch alone, Superman without the superhuman powers. You have responsibility for the entire boat and the other crew members, and you have to protect them with just your eyes, your ears, your brains, and sometimes your muscles, too. Fancy technology helps a bunch, but it mainly comes down to staying sharp, aware of the surroundings.

I lost concentration for a few minutes completing the log entry, and I failed to notice, until almost too late, a potential hazard of coastal cruising, uncharted buoys. I hope I've learned my lesson for next time. Well, actually I hope there won't be a next time!

-- Eliza

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, November 05, 2009 6:44 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Wednesday, November 4, 2009 (Day 3 of passage from Salvador to Cabedelo, Brazil)

1600 local time Wednesday, November 4, 2009 (1900 GMT). LAT/LON: 10º45'S, 036º23'W. LOCATION: approximately 255 NM SW of Cabedelo and 205 NM NE of Salvador (Itaparica), Brazil, and 13 miles off the coast. COURSE AND SPEED OVER GROUND: 46ºT @ 3.2 kts. WIND: NE 19-21 kts. SEA: Getting rough. SKY: 7/8, cirrus and cumulus. AIR TEMP: 81ºF outside and 85ºF inside. BAROMETER: 1015 mb. WATER TEMP: Warm. HUMIDITY: 62%. CURRENT: Estimated 2.0 kts against us. DEPTH: 155', back on the continental shelf. SAIL/ENGINE COMBINATION AND TACK: Motorsailing on starboard tack with single-reefed main and staysail, both sheeted flat, and engine at 1175 RPM. FISH, BIRDS, AND OTHER WILDLIFE: Eliza and Kyle saw a sea turtle swimming on the surface; we found a small flying fish just after dawn and chopped it up for Choro for breakfast. LAST 24 HR RUN: 78 NM. AVERAGE DISTANCE COVERED PER DAY DURING PASSAGE: 87 NM. FORECAST: Our friend Franck on the yacht Constante (which left Itaparica when we did) has been getting weather reports daily from his father in France, a HAM radio operator. We spoke with Franck on the SSB, using our new St. Helena HAM call sign (ZD7KEA), just after his father had signed off. More of the same strong NE winds are forecast for the next 36 to 48 hours, reported Franck, but winds should shift to a more favorable ESE on Friday. THOUGHTS FROM THE BRIDGE: We were hoping to get at least as far as Recife, and ideally to Cabedelo, before stopping. But these conditions are very difficult (we went for several hours today averaging only 2.0 to 2.5 kts) and we've decided to stop in Maceio, which we should reach by tomorrow afternoon, to await improved wind, buy more diesel, and rest.

* * * * *

Ok, so today was really hard. We knew this leg would be tough, motor-sailing against current, wind, and seas from Salvador to Cabedelo. And we were very prepared: everything secured and tied-down, diesel and water topped up, stowage areas filled with provisions, and boat maintenance chores all done. Our spirits were prepared as well, braced for a northward bash.

But geez! . . It was a fight for every mile today. Estrela did the best she could in these the conditions: strong winds right on her nose; steep, short waves making her hobby-horse; and a 2.0 knot current pushing her south. Think walking the wrong way on a bumpy escalator in a wind tunnel while getting doused with salt water the whole time. Now you get the picture.

But I think the hardest part was that Doug was sick.

Normally, we would never have started a serious passage like this when a crew member was coming down with a cold, especially the captain. But we don't have the leisure of time. It is late in the season to be going north, with favorable "weather windows" few and far between. In fact ten days ago, three boats tried to leave Salvador, only to call "uncle" to the conditions and return to the anchorage. Other boats have been waiting for a month to leave. So when this "window" appeared, we had to take it, even with a sick captain.

The goods news is that the girls jumped in with enthusiasm and took over some of Doug's load. Abigail even stood watch all by herself for an hour and a half from 10:00 to 11:30 this morning, while Eliza, Doug, Choro, and I slept. Hopefully our congested, achy, feverish, and slumbering captain will leave the sick bay soon!

-- Kyle

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Friday, November 06, 2009 4:36 PM
Subject: Estrela all well on board -- Thursday, November 5, 2009 -- LAT/LON: 09º40.61'S, 035º43.63'W -- Anchored in Maceio awaiting favorable wind and resting

1320 local time Thursday, November 5, 2009 (1620 GMT). LAT/LON: 09º40.61'S, 035º43.63'W. LOCATION: Anchor down at Maceio Harbor. Short message because poor radio connection. Plan to begin heading north again at 0600 11/7. Next stop Cabedelo in 200 NM.

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Monday, November 09, 2009 3:36 PM
Subject: Estrela Log Entry -- Thursday, November 5, 2009 (Day 4 of passage from Salvador to Cabedelo [or rather, Maceio], Brazil)

1320 local time Thursday, November 5, 2009 (1920 GMT). LAT/LON: 09º40.61'S, 035º43.63'W. LOCATION: Anchor down at Maceio Harbor. COURSE AND SPEED OVER GROUND: N/A WIND: NE 10 kts. SEA: Calm, inside breakwater. SKY: 2/8, cumulus. AIR TEMP: 84ºF outside and 86ºF inside. BAROMETER: 1017 mb. WATER TEMP: Warm. HUMIDITY: 63%. CURRENT: N/A DEPTH: 15' anchored with 75' chain and 15' snubber. SAIL/ENGINE COMBINATION AND TACK: N/A. FISH, BIRDS, AND OTHER WILDLIFE: As soon as we anchored, Choro climbed on deck, found a small flying fish, and devoured it in about 90 seconds. LAST 24 HR RUN: 76 NM. AVERAGE DISTANCE COVERED PER DAY DURING PASSAGE: 83 NM. FORECAST: The "wishful thinking forecast" calls for lighter, more easterly winds tomorrow. THOUGHTS FROM THE BRIDGE: We stopped here in Maceio to give the engine and crew a needed break and to try to buy some diesel. The two other boats we sailed in company with from Itaparica, Constante and Sheer Tenacity, arrived some hours ahead of us and have already organized a diesel run with a local guy in a big, old, wooden dory powered by a long hand-carved scull and massive back, shoulders, and arms. Even if wind and sea conditions are the same when we head back out, we will all be much happier for having had a couple nights to recharge in this safe, calm anchorage.

* * * * *

The diesel run was just that, a run. Sculled to land by Nei Nei, Franck and I, toting 12 empty 20-liter jugs, stepped out of the dory into calf-deep water, inky black and reeking of raw sewage. The narrow beach itself seemed to be the annex of a garbage dump, an unfathomable expanse of plastic garbage bags half-buried in the sand. We were meters from the front of a ramshackle fishing village, reminiscent of the favela slums we had seen from a distance in Rio and Salvador, here sandwiched between the busy commercial freighter and tanker port and the more attractive waterfront of Maceio, a city of 700,000 inhabitants, famous for long, sandy beaches.

Nei Nei disappeared for five minutes and returned with Seiju, each beaming a friendly, helpful smile and pushing a sturdy wooden flatbed wheelbarrow. Six empty jugs lashed to a wheelbarrow, we headed across the storage yard of the "yacht club," past a security gate, and onto the busy, divided four-lane street curving along the waterfront. I lagged behind to wash my legs and tie on sneakers, trotting to catch up with our caravan, as it zig-zagged around traffic and through several blocks into urban Maceio, soon reaching a Petrobras station.

This was a practiced operation; as soon as the first six jugs were filled, Nei Nei left with his wheelbarrow. I was still paying when Seiju and Franck departed with the second six. They had disappeared by the time I had stuffed change into my wallet and slid it into my pocket. Off at a lope again, I headed down a side street I thought they had taken. Sure enough, there they were to the left at the first corner.

I couldn't believe the pace Seiju was setting. He stood only about 5'5' and had a back as broad as that of the much taller Nei Nei. Every 100 meters or so he set down the wheelbarrow, more frequently once Franck and I began to encourage him in sign language and broken Portuguese to take it easier. I tried once to spell Seiju but quickly set down the handles, sure I would dump the load of 30+ gallons of fuel, unable to both walk and keep the rig level. As he shook out his arms, shrugged shoulders, and massaged the bulbous callouses on palms and fingers, we got him to tell us a little about what he does for work mostly. This, it turned out, was his typical work: moving things around the waterfront by wheelbarrow for boats, mostly local fishing boats -- fuel, oil, ice, and other supplies -- and usually in a hurry. Why a wheelbarrow and not a cart with four wheels? No good for threading traffic and bumping up and down curbs, he explained. A near run seemed to be Seiju's most efficient pace, even though it left him heaving when he paused for rests. He did gesture and try to explain in Portuguese a couple times that this was not a safe neighborhood to stand around -- many thieves, everywhere.

Quickly reaching the beach and Nei Nei's dory, Seiju smiled a big goodbye and boa viagem, and Franck and I were back on the water. This amazing, muscular service cost us each 20 Reais, about $11 US dollars. Nei Nei faced aft and pumped his heavy scull back and forth, holding the end with both hands at eye level, leaning into the work and marking a rhythm with his whole body. He laughed as he answered our halting questions about his life. He had eight sons, 23 to four years old. He seemed amused to learn Franck and I each had two filhas, daughters. These were good men we had just spent an hour and a half with.

-- Doug

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Sunday, November 08, 2009 8:10 PM
Subject: Estrela all well on board -- Sunday, November 8, 2009 -- LAT/LON: 07º32'S, 034º37'W -- Heaved-to 35 NM S of Cabedelo; will arrive in AM

2030 local time Sunday, November 8, 2009 (2330 GMT). LAT/LON: 07º32'S, 034º37'W. LOCATION: 35 NM S of Cabedelo Hbr Ent. Now heaved-to during dinner to slow down. Will enter Cabedelo in daylight Monday AM. Great sailing conditions, finally. Have rounded easternmost point of South America!

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Sunday, November 08, 2009 8:10 PM
Subject: FYI -- Estrela will begin to post position reports with Yotreps again

Because of our continuing slow radio connection trouble we will begin to post brief regular position reports with Yotreps again, like the one below, when we're on passage. We remembered that you've included a Yotreps position reports link on the sailingestrela website. I think you have to use our callsign, WDB3042, to access the Estrela reports. Thanks! -- D

----- Original Message -----

To: yotreps@pangolin.co.nz

Subject: YotReps: 2009/11/08 12:09:54

Date: 2009/11/08 12:25:17

AIRMAIL YOTREPS

IDENT: WDB3042

TIME: 2009/11/08 12:09

LATITUDE: 08-07.92S

LONGITUDE: 034-45.92W

COURSE: 16T

SPEED: 4.0

MARINE: YES

CLOUDS: 12%

VISIBILITY: 10

BARO: 1015

TREND: 0

AIR_TEMP: 33.3C

COMMENT: All well on board. Will arrive Cabedelo 11/9 AM.

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, December 02, 2009 6:09 PM
Subject: Estrela news

11/30

Still very poor radio connection speed. Hope the Yotreps position reports are getting posted. We have managed to get Yotreps emails out most mornings -- but barely. Speaking daily by SSB voice with 2 other sailboats on same passage, about 100-400 miles behind us. All well here. Still going amazingly fast with current. Toughest moment was girls and D on deck at 0200 trying to shoo away bird trying to land for rest. Afraid Choro would throw self overboard in zeal to make a kill. Love, KDEA

12/2

We have tragic news. Choro fell or was flipped overboard and lost yesterday. We think the port staysail sheet must have caught him wrong when he was stepping over it and the sails were slatting in light wind and a patch of confused seas. We don't really know as we were all below, no one on deck for just a few minutes, getting ready to start the engine. Suddenly he was gone. We backtracked for 30 minutes, following our GPS tracks. Of course it was futile. We are all devastated. He had really earned his sea legs and was so cautious. We knew this was a pretty real risk of having a cat at sea, but we thought we had somehow beaten the odds, or were beating them, and were going to make it to Florida with Choro. We spent hours today telling stories about Choro and laughing and crying.

Choro, our beloved SeaCat, may he rest in peace.

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Monday, December 07, 2009 10:14 PM
Subject: YotReps: 2009/12/08 03:09:02

AIRMAIL YOTREPS

IDENT: WDB3042

TIME: 2009/12/08 03:09

LATITUDE: 15-34.79N

LONGITUDE: 061-27.93W

MARINE: YES

WIND_SPEED: 10

WIND_DIR: ENE

CLOUDS: 25%

VISIBILITY: 12

BARO: 1017

TREND: 0

AIR_TEMP: 27.2C

COMMENT: We made it! Anchored Prince Rupert Bay, Dominica @ 2230. Time to sleep.

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Tuesday, December 22, 2009 11:24 AM
Subject: Estrela Special Holiday Log Entry -- Tuesday, December 22, 2009. Anchored off Nevis, West Indies. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

1200 local time (1600 GMT) 17º08.26'N, 062º38.01'W. Estrela dropped anchor two hours ago in front of Charlestown, Nevis, West Indies, where we'll be spending Christmas week, meeting up with cousins on Doug's side of the family. We sailed overnight from Dominica, passing 4 miles west of Montserrat, an active volcano. In the dark we watched fiery rivulets of lava flow down the sides of the mountain. And this morning we found fine volcanic ash coating Estrela's decks.

Time to put up the Christmas tree and start baking! Happy Holidays from the Estrela crew! -- Doug, Kyle, Eliza, and Abigail

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