Camamu to Salvador-Hooligan fish and Dragon Woman !

As we sit here in Itaparica at the Amigo Restuarant and Bar, owned and run by South Africans, Willie and Robyn, we are once again struck by how the world is shrinking! They arrived here 3 years ago, having sailed over in what was Free Spirit, the Lello 48 from Hout Bay, which they bought from Mike and Sophie ! They lived here for a year, sold the boat and bought the property, and turned it into a bar/restuarant. We then met Annalize and Peter ( The Plankies), who also lived in Hout bay, and sailed over in their 29ft black steel boat, Nor, and who have also bought and renovated a Pousada, and become Brazilian residents. They have a house and the Pousada here, plus a 8000sqm tract of land on the island , and intend just to sell the pousada , and retire, as they dont need to work! Well, good luck to them.. they certainly seem very happy here!
　
In my last blog, we had just arrived in Camamu. Three days later we were joined by Constante, from Abrolhos, and we went down the river to Marau together, with an overnight stop beteween two islands. The town was interesting, but I had expected something more like Paraty. Not so. When we returned to our anchorage behind the Goia island, we found the 65ft Gunboat "Gazelle", with our mates Jon , Nicky and young Travis, plus the owner& girlfriend. Just able to say hi, and touch base again! We then motorsailed the 45 miles up to Morro de Sao Paulo, where once again we anchored in 6m, on dry land, ( according to Garmin Blue charts !) opposite the village of Gamboa. We took the local ferry up to Morro, and had to pay the R$6.50 tourist tax, and found a most enchanting and delightful little island town. The beach , which opens onto the Atlantic is very pretty, and surrounded by palms, Pousada's, shops, bars, and restaurants, and the biggest Foofi slide ever, from the lighthouse point, down into the sea in front of the main beach! The umbrellas and chairs are serviced by enthusiastic young men with watering cans, who keep the surrounding sand cool, and wash the sand off the ladies feet! There are no cars on the island, and the building materials are transported by mules and donkeys. Morro, has a definite charm, and is the most upmarket, tourist oriented place we have seen to date.
　
The following day at 5.00am, we upped anchor fom the brisk current at Gamboa, and headed for Salvador. Once again I got smashed up by Hooligan fish.. not once, but twice in three minutes! I get very little sympathy in this respect- My son Steven, told me I was using Mickey Mouse tackle against the "A" team, and the other cruisers dont know why I should complain, as we still are the only ones who always have fish in the freezer! I did get a consolation prize of a 2 kg Kingfish , when I replace the lures! My logic relating to tackle selection stems from the desire NOT to catch anything over about 20kg, as we dont have the freezer space to spare, and we would rather have a supply of smaller, different fish species ! No one can argue with the
logic- except I must confess to beginning to get very P..d off , with getting smashed up time and time again, losing line and lures, while Mary says" I thought you could fish?". On this occasion, I had a Rapala on the tuna rod, and a pink/yellow squid on the handline. First the rod rachet started screaming, and while we were trying to slow down the boat, the handline went off like a rifle shot, as the bungee was streched to its limit, and the 40kg line bust! When the fish had stripped about 350mts from the reel, and I was down to the last bit, I started working the beast-- then it was gone ! I reeled in the line to find a Rapala sans both double hooks! Another first for me! I've had staightened hooks, broken hooks, but never NO bloody hooks! The stainless steel split rings must have just opened up!
　
We arrived in Baia dos Santos, and went around to the Itaparica marina anchorage, where we met up with Estrela again The following day they joined us as we took the ferry over to Salvador to take care of the paperwork, and to search for a new VHF , since my Navico had finally give up the ghost! Now all the Brazillians we meet, are so friendly and helpful, that one cannot imagine how it is possible for the Brazillian Authorities to select staff who can so frequently be difficult, rude, and downright offensive, to visitors to their country!! Yes, there are thankfully a few exceptions, but there are more than enough of the others ,to make sure that any check in day will be a horrible experience! Enter Dragon Woman to the scene, but first a little background!
　
After an interesting taxi ride across Itaparica, and ferry ride to Centro Nautica , we headed first to Receita Federal, where we were pleased to be told that all we needed to do was check in with the Port Captain ! What a doddle! He is just round the corner. But, its 10.15am, and he only opens at 12.00. So after a bit of VHF research, we go back to the port captains office, only to be thrown out because we need to go to the Policia Federal first. Having got our visa extensions in Angra, until 24/11, and having found in Rio, that only the Port Captain needed to be advised, as we were "quite legal", and with the Receita saying the same thing in Salvador, we were flumoxed. I had walked the 2km to the Policia once before with Chris Sutton, so off we set.... and it is by now very very hot, and I am now wearing my obligatory long pants, ( to show respect for the office of the Port Captain). The walk down the length of the docks, is much like walking down a 2 km urinal, as every pillar along the way makes up for the lack of public conveniences for the truck drivers waiting to get into the docks! The smell in that heat was sickening! We made it by 1pm, only to be told that they open at 2pm, but in any event, they have now opened a new division, called the Delegation of Policia Federal, which was next to Receita Federal! So back we trudge through the same smelly route, finally taking shelter in the garage to get out of the sun. At 13.55, a kind gent sees our purple hue, and invites us into the corridor of DoPF, and points to the door marked "Immigration. I knock, and enter, and am confronted by Dragon Woman!
　
We had heard stories about this woman, from Jeremy (Jervon), and many other cruisers, and thought they must be exagerating.. From Ilha Grande to Vitoria, we had heard about her, her looks, her manner etc etc. Well, "DW", is alone in her office watching a Soapie on TV. She glares at me with a look of pure hatred, and points at her watch, indicating that it is 3 minute to 2pm . Then the like the Doggy show host on TV, she screams the Brazilian equivalent of "SIT!", followed by"SHUT THE DOOR"!, and proceeds to carry on watching the soapie. When the program is over,she begins shuffling papers on her desk, achieving nothing at all
　
, until she eventually sticks out a hand , and grabs my folio of papers. Determined not to be phased by her abusive manner, I smile, and say " Muito obligado". Her response is to continue muttering about interupting her lunch hour . It took her all of a minute to fill out the magic form that we could take back to the Port Captain.
　
When we get back, the queue is long, and the only official dealing with Saida Veleiros, is too busy chatting to colleagues to help riff raff like me, all dressed up in my long trousers, (to show him respect!!) By 3pm, we are stamped and legal . 5 hours to do what could be done in 15 minutes!
　
Up the Elevador, into the old Historical Pelhourina area, in search of a beer and salad. There we were lucky to meet larger than life itself, Cintia, who it turns out is a multilingual translator for Yachting events, Police, and a teacher, apart from her afternoon job entertaining foreigners at this restuarant. She immediatly lightens our mood, as she goes on to tell us that all the International yachties complain about that bitch, and goes on to tell us some choice
stories which are best left out for fear of libel! Cintia, whos
stubby little legs stick out from her ample frame at 45 degs, says she has trouble walking since she fell off he motorbike hitting a pothole and wrecking her knees. She got no sympathy from her daughter, who confiscated the bike, saying she was "too old, and too fat to ride a motor bike!" She speaks German French, English, Spanish and Italian, and is starting to learn Mandarin so that she can be sent to China by the Brazilian Government. In her capacity as a translator, one of her most common duties, is to mediate between the German tourists, and their Black prostitutes, as it would seem that they truly believe you have not tasted sweets, until you have tasted chocolate! Once they have finished tasting, it would appear that they have a tendency to refuse to pay, and thats when the police call in Cintia to mediate!
　
By the time we caught the ferry back , our battles with officialdom was but a distant memory! Like all things Marine, VHF radios in Brazil, are 3 times the catalogue price in the Caribean, so I was lucky to find that Doug (Estrela) had a pre DSC Raytheon spare which he was happy to sell for a modest sum. So we are up and running, and hoping for one last southerly to help us on our way!
　
The attached pic is Constante, our travelling companion in a spectacular sunrise leaving Morro de Sao Paulo.