Entering Tobago we come into the Carib’s world, where history laids his traces, perhaps more than anywhere else : the slavery, the economic domination. You can feel the leadership of USA, Canada, and others, it ‘s no longer the hispanic Europe of latin America but it’s also the reegae and rastas kingdom !
We staied almost two months in Charlotteville, Tobago, until the customs asked us to sail away, as our pets were not allowed. It’s a pity, we loved this small and quiet village, the lush forest were everything is growing, avocados, bananas, cocoa, the animals, squirels, birds, the bay flied over with pelicans, frigates and brown bobies, the so welcoming people, always in a good mood, the fishermen and their lobsters….
Anyway, Grenada was’nt far away. Here in Prickly bay we could have the best treatements in the caribs for the dog Dick, in St Georges University, get new glasses for the captain, receive our new main sail, and, last but not least, visit the oldest rhum distilery in the island (beware, this a 70° proof alcool !), the cocoa plantations and taste the best chocolate in the world. The island is so beautiful than she deserve well her name of “Spice island”.
After Christmas we will head to the San Blas islands and Panama and soon realy soon, the Pacific !

We are not tired of Brasil, Salvador where we have made, one more time, a good cleaning to our Skoiern, Jacare and João Pessoa wehre the kids conduct their cows riding horses, where the “lanchas” stay the best mean of transport to join the villages across the river, Fortaleza and his fishermen riding their unbelievable jangadas which we cross in open sea, sometimes at 40 miles from the coast, the feet in the water, standing with their huge sail spread out like a wing. Then it’s the river Para, in Amazonia, where we sail up to Soure, in Marajo island. The bufalos have replaced the horses and , again it’s the magic of the river where all occurs, the horses transported with the humans waiting in their hammocks, the zebus, dischaged in a savage manner, the fishermen which rounded us at night. We met again our red ibis and this time we have followed them in the mangrove, we will not see them again before long…

In Surinam, change of scenery : even if we are on a river, there is some differences, it’s more hot, the thunderstorms are more frequent and overall it is a curious mixing of Nederlands, Indonesia, Africa….there is roads, beautiful houses with painted roofs and

Paramaribo looks at times like South Africa. All sorts of animals are sold, when they are not eated, and we were on the point to buy a small monkey, let’s say Anne Marie…

We are now in the Caribian seas, in Tobago, Charlotteville, Pirates bay, waiting quietly at anchor the good season to go on, this times through West. Here it’s another paradise, but it is another story….

Amigos, the whim of the weather has prevented us to walk with the whales of Abrolhos, we have seen them only in the distance, some blows and others disputed to the big south swell, brown boobies taking the oportunity of the crossing to rest a little, and, then, in the state of Bahia, the magic of the mangrove, the dugouts, the saguis, small acrobats and inquisitives monkeys… Here all is going on the water, from the scolar transportation to those of mules, fishing is going by sail, the last saveiros are still sailing, without engine, pushed by breezes and currents. Discoveries : Cairu and the marvels of the old jesuit convent, the red ibis growing like popies in Maragojipe, Valença, bustling city emerging from the mangrove. The likeness with Africa is striking, even the portugues forts are here! Water surround us, its a tracery of rios, sand banks bristling by fish traps, and everywhere the same warmth, the same kindness. It’s a pity we can’t stay longer….

Rio Grande do Sul, our entry gate in Brazil. We didn’t thought to stop so quickly, but we had forgotten the magic atmosphere of the lagoon, her birds, her lights and fogs. Here, in the “lagoa dos patos”, all is quiet. The barques go and return from the “isla dos marinhieros”, full of boxes fo salads and other vegetables, in way to the comunitary market, a few yards from here. The horse cars still resist to the lorries and cars, the erants dogs sleep in the streets, the nostalgics “gauchos” pass in their black and red lined cloak, leather boots and beret. We met again the singing brasilian portugues, the fruits, the vegetables, the fish market….

It’s good to be back in Brazil !