Intrepid Shenanigans

We have arrived in this massive city, Salvador, on the east coast of Brazil. Salvador is a city of 6.5 million people and the 3^rd largest in the country. We approached, on Tuesday 7^th February, adjusting awkwardly to the memories of the endless, bottomless ocean-scape of the past 11 days behind us and the vision of the expanse of skyscrapers materializing out of the mist in front of us.

I received a shocking message from Donna on Seabird, as our phones began to get service and all those things we take for granted in land life gradually switched on. She had been mugged while exploring the old city and her husband, Michael, in the hustle and tussle, had badly shattered one of his fingers. They were on their way to Switzerland to a renowned hand surgeon for the best possible care and outcome. This news gave us pause. We had been warned that Salvador was a very dangerous city. All jewelry was put away, even wedding rings, phones were either left behind or well hidden under clothing. We were advised to stay in the marina area and never walk anywhere outside. As the city, indeed the whole country, is getting ready for the first Carnaval since Covid, everyone is on high alert. 

We hired a private tour guide, Fernando, and had a fabulous custom tour of the old city, along with our friends from Akoya. The old city has been lovingly renovated with the help of funds from UNESCO. It is vibrant, obviously well loved by its 80% black African and 20% white Portuguese inhabitants. There is a real sense of European meets African in the architecture, the dress, the colors, and the joie de vivre. As I sit here in the cockpit on Irene IV, this evening, I hear the city “going on” all around me – live music, varied drumming, a dog barking, animated chatter, lively laughter, a DJ booming, cars purring as they climb up or careen down the steep, narrow network of roads - a city alive and lived in. The sheer coastline is high and densely developed, like the Italian Amalfi coast on steroids – lights of all hues glisten, with a blurry reflection in the surprisingly clear and clean water far below.

On our 2,000-mile passage from St. Helena to Salvador, we were never more than 10 miles away from Intrepid. When you consider the vastness of the ocean and the million different possibilities of routes, and wind variations it is a remarkable accomplishment. Needless to say, Intrepid’s nose was put seriously out of joint, as the bigger boat with her gorgeous sleek carbon rig, could not pass the swift Irene IV. Each boat has its preferred point of sail. Irene’s is downwind and Intrepid’s is upwind. This entire passage was downwind, so we had the advatage. Intrepid had to look at our rear end for 11 days! 

Intrepid did get up to some shenanigans in her efforts to sneak past us. The hope was to catch us off guard. They did not realize that Rob’s middle name is competitive, and when there is a race, he is never off guard! The questions on everyone’s lips when they came on watch were, “How far away is Intrepid”, and “What is she up to?” One morning she changed sail plans 4 times before breakfast! Another day the crew turned off the AIS (Automatic Identification System), so we could not find her on our navigation instruments for a while. We expected her to come sailing past any minute!

On the SSB radio net every morning and evening, Trevor, or Callum, made snide remarks about our tactics. They were met with the witty ire of the Irene crew. Many an hilarious one liner was uttered between the rivals. Trevor talked of seeing Irene waving a white flag of submission, to which we retorted he must be color blind, it was in fact the black flag of the Jolly Roger, declaring battle! Intrepid reported seeing puffs of smoke coming from Irene, suggesting that we were cheating by using the engine, we countered that we were actually firing our warning canons. Beware Intrepid, Irene is on the warpath!

Soon the rivalry changed to afternoon tea cake flavors. Irene had carrot cake, Intrepid had clementine cake, Irene had orange madeira cake, Intrepid had almond cake, and so it went on.

Both boats arrived on the 7^th and agreed to have a conciliatory lunch the next day! Lunch started at 13:00 at a fabulous sushi restaurant in the marina and ended around 19:00 aboard Irene IV for cake, tea and gin and tonics. Hugs, giggles, and good food ended all friendly rivalries (for the time being!)

Tomorrow Louis returns from Ireland and George comes back onboard. Liz returns to New York, and we hope that Bonga will sail to Grenada aboard Liberty and continue his learning journey.