The border town of Chuy We left Piriapolis with Alex and Rita giving us a lift to the border town Chuy. This was not a small undertaking, as the journey was a few hundred kilometers. In Chuy one side of the main road is in Uruguay and the other side is Brazil! Alex and Rita were going to take us all the way to Rio Grande, but Alex’s insurance did not allow him to drive in Brazil. We had an interesting drive through Uruguay, passing an area that was filled with anthills covered in grass, making a bizarre green hillock pocked landscape.
We passed an area that was littered with date palms – an avenue of palms that traversed Ururugay, created by the gauchos, riding this passage over the years, eating palm nuts and discarding the seeds.
A remarkable monument to the gauchos who are the real heart and soul of Uruguay.
Alex and Rita offered to show us Santa Theresa, which is a national park run by the military. It is complete with a fort that was build in 1762 and has survived many battles and turbulent times between the Spanish and the Portuguese.
We said a very teary goodbye to Alex and Rita, they had been absolutely wonderful to us and become very good friends and we were not sure if we would ever see them again. They dropped us off at the bus station and we caught the one o clock bus to Rio Grande, stopping at Pelotas to change buses.
We saw a couple of peculiar things in our brief visit through Chuy. A converted double storey green and white house with a huge hand painted sign advertising, “Darwin’s Dentist” – I am not 100 percent sure I would be happy with him looking at my teeth.We drove past a small bar – going by the name of “Drink’s Bar’ – I was not aware there were other types of bars?
The area between Chuy and Florianopolis is primarily wetland, hundreds of kilometers of soggy earth – filled with basic dwellings with the mandatory selection of livestock – cattle, horses, ponies, goats, sheep, chickens, geese, the odd turkey – you name it – not forgetting the pack of mangy mongrels and a couple of cats thrown into the deal. All of the habitated land is reclaimed from the sea and has been drained by some means or other – with varying levels of success. Some systems looking quite primitive and manual – others more sophisticated, depending on the level of economy of the inhabitants.
The wetlands got wetter, and became unfarmable and then changed to true wetland complete with herds of up to 20 indigenous capibaras browsing on water lilies by the sides of the road and caymans lazing in the afternoon sun hoping for a snack of egret or frog. When we first saw the capibaras and caymans I thought I was seeing things, it was so extraordinary to see them like that in their natural environment. We were spoilt again with the sights of new birds, some which we managed to identify and some not. The most impressive of all was the Southern Screamer which we had previously only seen in the zoo. I sadly have no pictures worth using as they are all through a blurry bus window…
The journey was also filled with gauchos getting on and off the bus at each stop. This was not a direct bus, so it stopped on request, providing us with another new gaucho to stare at in wonder. Their attire so comfortable – slim, soft leather boots, good for keeping the feet dry and perfect in the stirrup, wide bombachas – trousers that fit snugly around the ankle of your boot – but wide in the thigh area – leaving your legs free to move unrestricted and ready to swing your leg over your horse or to bring down a calf. Long sleeve cotton shirts to keep you cool and keep off the sun.
A neckerchief to stop the sweat and sun and to have at hand if you need it for any other function. A belt to keep your trousers in place and hang your knife, whip and boleros from (boleros are two balls attached to each other with a rope used for bringing down livestock). A wide brimmed Stetson type hat to shade the face, perfect for long days in the sun. This wonderful outfit – which looks as if they come just off a film set of a Weston, are worn in various degrees of style depending on the status and wealth of the gaucho, an absolute treat to see.
Brazil - Rio Grande
The bus changes were all easy and we did not have to wait long before arriving in the familiar Rio Grande. Seeing the boat moored at the Oceanographic Museo, we felt like we had come home.
This was where we had stopped on the way down to Uruguay 6 months before. We caught up with our mates Lauro, Marcos, Barbara and the rest of the crew at the Museo. We also had the entertainment of watching some of the teenage modelling shoots that seem quite the rage in South America, where some teenage girls dress up to the nines and get a professional photographer to take some snaps!
We meet up with the boat that has sailed from Florianopolis with Andrew and a crew of 2 – Eduardo, our Uruguayan friend and Rupert. The boys had a wonderful peaceful sail, quiet sail, listening to Pink Floyd while the moon shone on the water. Andrew was bleak that we had not been on board, as it sounds like one of those once in a lifetime sails. Of course that is the trouble with sailing, whatever the weather forecast, you can never really tell exactly what you are going to get.
From Rio Grande, Mum, Lucy and I took another overnight bus to Florianopolis where we were going to house sit for one month. The boys got the boat ship shape and headed off for what turned out to be the most epic sail since the ocean crossing, below is an account from Rupert of the entire trip right through from Piriapolis to Rio Grande and then Laguna, which is where they ended up sheltering from weather, before finally making the trip to Florianopolis some days later.
“We left Piriapolis, Uruguay about ten days ago. Andrew, Edu (a Uruguayo) and I sailed/motored for 42hrs to reach Rio Grande, southern Brazil. The girls took a bus as Lucy´s not really susceptible to longer trips. The second night we had enough breeze to kill the motor and sail comfortably through the thick black water. The bright moon sinking below the horizon, stars reflected individually in the oily blackness. All of us on deck in the warm evening. Andrew´s ‘Delicate sound of thunder’ Pink Floyd concert album transporting us to those stars...
We spent 3 days there, in Rio Grande, checking into the country and doing boat customs. We even had the Receita Federal (customs) search the boat with dogs, as well as having to get certification showing our lack of pig-flu onboard. No bribes this time - but we did have to steal a stamp in order to pass through one of the doors. Backward bureaucracy running on something like African time.
Edu kindly offered to help us deliver the boat the rest of the way to Florianopolis, where we'll be house sitting a place for September. The trip should have taken no more than 65 hours. It took 84 - in which we each managed about 8-10 hrs of sleep. a powerful northeast came through two days earlier than predicted. We had to beat into this wild storm. Andrew made the call to heave-to (stop the boat and hardly make ground at all) and get some rest - so we spent 6 or so hours rolling up and down these towering black swells. Dry beneath the spray dodger, keeping lookout for passing ships. Sunday morning sunrise seemed a blessing but as the day drew on and we continued tacking toward the cape, monstrous waves began pounding the boat and the wind got back up to around 45knots. Things smashed & spilt down below, chutney on the charts, etc.Night came all too quickly and soon I was gripping the wheel as tightly as possible with powerful waves breaking onto my head - squinting into 50+knots of wind & spray. Black waves which were barely visible until the moon caught the crest just before the wave crashed into the cockpit.
Thankfully we were now close enough to the cape to use our remaining diesel and steer more directly to Laguna - the closest shelter, about which none of us really knew a thing. The engine barely audible above the heaving ocean and roaring winds. doing 3 knots, and trying to cover about 50 miles.
We motored past the mouth to the lagoon, turned downwind, and with both the reefed-main and genoa out, we flew into a gap - no wider than 50 meters (but seemingly less). Dodging hidden rocks and racing the massive waves that exploded around us. Holding the boat steady under overwhelming conditions, Andrew got us safely into the calm of the lagoon where we dropped the tired sails and motored against the current which was rushing out. Always aware of the faulty channel markers and possible discrepancies between the charts, the gps and the actual Brazilian coastline we motored along the path of light cast by the moon, our hearts still racing - we then nearly crashed straight into a mating whale couple!
I balanced on the bow, scouting for hazardous whales. The yellow moon catching whale tails in the night. A black silhouette of a big hill to port. topped by a clinically lit giant statue of jesu-cristo, el senhor. Grimy, dank favelas in the foreground.”
Wow is all I can say – great writing Rupert, I am pleased I was watching capibaras and gauchos on the bus instead though! Inevitably these types of sails happen when we have a deadline, as we choose to sail when the weather is slightly less than optimal and then normally regret it. Of course sometimes this cannot be helped, but in this case for instance, it would have been better to wait!
We learned many months later that this particular area of the sea is called Santa Marta and is completely impassable unless you have a weather window of at least more than three days, and on this particular sail, the window was just less than three days. The friend recounting this local knowledge to us, chuckled when he heard of Josephine in the storm, knowingly nodding his head when he heard of the boat being forced to take shelter and wait until the weather window had opened properly for that particular spot on the ocean.
Andrew left Rupert with the boat in Laguna, and came to Florianopolis with Edu to catch up with us as Mum, I and Lucy were looking after the house sit already, who needed to get back to work in Uruguay. Later that week Andrew returned to Laguna and he and Rupert sailed/motored the boat easily to Florianopolis, taking 24 hrs with no further excitement or dramas!
Brazil - Florianopolis - House siting for September
Butterflies, butterflies, everywhere.
It is just amazing how quickly you forget, and also how it all comes flooding back.Back in the country of rain, forest, birdsong and butterflies.
Walking down the road with Lucy in the pram, there is a cacophony of bird song, seemingly in competition with each other. There are flowers in every garden, orchids and bromeliads being standard fare. Prize wining displays that would rival the best at the Chelsea Flower Show. 
Dragonflies and big bumble bees buzz pass your head with a flash of shimmering blue or purple. And then there are the butterflies – like a magic garden, new ones at every turn.
Big small, striped spotted, blue, orange, with swallow tails – they are just wonderful, and so many that you can most days guarantee seeing something new.
The birds are a special treat, as even the most drab Brazilian common garden special, is new for our eyes. And then there are the extraordinary hummingbirds, which I guess are equivalent to our South African sunbird in bird prestige circles, the difference being that there are hundreds or types of hummingbird – compared with a handful of sunbirds. The hummingbirds are a challenge to see properly in that they only seem to hang around for a few seconds – sucking some precious drops of sugar from their chosen flower, and then flitting off to the next succulent bloom.
Florianopolis city is a lovely city, clean, vibrant and reminded me a lot of Cape Town’s buildings. Colourful, old renovated buildings, open air coffee shops, incredible squares filled with trees that are hundreds of years old. Lots of markets, fruit and incredible meats and cheeses.
It is lovely to enjoy this wonderful Brazilian feel again, warm air, and although the waters are not warm yet, that will come soon as we head North. Andrew is looking forward to teaching Lucy to swim again, and jumping off the boat! After our house sitting for a month, we have another four and a half months left in Brazil, so we will have to make sure that we don’t hang around too much – which has tended to be our habit, as there are lots of places that we want to enjoy before we need to leave.
Climbing Morro da Limpiao
Andrew of course was working, so Rupert, Lucy, Mum and me made our way up the hill.
We had a few false starts, as it is not very clearly signposted, and a very kind local directed us through his back yard and then gave us a guided tour up half the hill with his 6 year old daughter in tow!
We eventually made it to the top, a lovely view of Campeche island and the beach all the way to Joaquina and beyond.
A trip to Costa da Lagoa
Floripa General
Colouring tables, stickers and fish tanks - Lucy thought she had arrived in heaven, not arrived for jabs! The whole experience was completely unexpected, and Lucy only cried a very little bit when the needles where administered! I am not sure who hates Lucy's vaccinations more, Lucy or me!
Wash day after the rains
The local fishmonger trying to understand my broken Portenol (Portuguese and Spanish mix)
Lucy loving the swing, with Rupe loving the hammock at the house
Random dog on top of a wall while walking en route somewhere!
The city centre Plaza Quinze (Fifteen) is full of beautiful old trees, vines and people enjoying the shade.
And lastly another Trazzler trip to SANTO ANTÔNIO DE LISBOA....
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