Heraclitus Report

Heraclitus leaving mid day Sunday, May 31 from Ilha Grande for Salvador- passing Rio de Janeiro at night- Ipanema and Copacabana beaches only 10nm on port beam. With the binoculars we can even make out the giant flying Jesus. Sailing—good winds. And good speed, having scraped the hull gains us 20-30% speed. Dolphins leave fluorescent trails around the ship, and we can see the glow of the land, the powerful electric charge of cities in the dark, and the warm evening breeze emanating from the earth. We keep in the currents close to the coast, passing between the two capes, Cabo Frio and Cabo Sao Tome and the enormous oilfield off the coast here. The water keeps heating up since we left Parati, from 16 to 26 degrees Celsius.

On June 5^th the Heraclitus is approaching Abrolhos - but are asked by the navy station to wait till mid day to anchor, because Lula da Selva, the Brazilian president is visiting the island. A big navy helicopter intently circles the Heraclitus several times, like a dragon fly about to descend on a sweet flower pad…

Finally we are anchored in the late afternoon, 0.1 nm off the rocks on the South side of St. Barbara Island… about 180 metres - it’s close, but the holding ground is good and the surrounding enormous reef patches keep the ocean swell down.

That Saturday night we all listen to music on deck, it’s very calm. I have a bottle of Portuguese red wine and have a long late night conversation with Eddie about the Solomon Islands. We are watching the full moon standing between the lighthouse and the anchor light of the Heraclitus- From so close you can watch the silent lighthouse performing a magical act every six seconds- out of a bundle of scintillating sparkles it conjures up a golden egg emitting a beam of light that illuminates the dark cliffs for just an instant.

Next morning, too early, the wind picks up from the South, and fast, so we have to change anchorage to the North, the lee side of the island. We raise the anchor chain and motor around St. Barbara, it’s 2.3 knots (4.2 km/h) working hard against the wind but once we get around the corner, we are speeding up to more than double the speed.

The wind keeps picking up to over 30 knots, a near gale. We are told it was the strongest wind of the year here, we are out in the wilderness of the ocean - most of our attention goes into operating the ship again- very different from the 3 months being hooked up to a safe mooring at Farol de Parati, sheltered from storms and theft.

We reanchor, but the ship just keeps rolling heavily even here- the islands are tiny and don’t provide much protection from the ocean swell. St. Barbara is just 0.8nm long (1nm=1.83km) and about 30m tall. There are four more, smaller islands, all of volcanic formation, rugged and with scant vegetation- some palm trees here and there, traditionally planted by visiting sailors, but they look out of place. The main island hosts a small herd of goats, introduced by sailors or fishermen as an easy food source and not knowing about local ecology- the goats were removed from the other islets, which are now declared natural reserves. There is one sea almond left on one of the smaller islands. I wonder though if there ever was a ‘natural’ vegetation of trees and brushes, because the soil is not so rich. Abrolhos was the first marine park of Brazil- a nice young man from Abrolhos National Marine Park accompanied by two navy officers came onboard and told us about it’s abundant turtle population and coral reefs. Also that over 1,000 humpback whales visit the archipelago per year- compared to 5, 000 human visitors. We are just at the beginning of the whale season- so with some luck we may meet them.

On top of the island is the lighthouse, standing 60m above ocean level, visible in clear conditions up to 51nm and flashing every 6 seconds. The navy people on the island are extremely friendly, we ask to see the lighthouse and they show us at dusk. I even get to turn the light on that evening of the 9^th of June. A simple switch…’Flick’… and I shine a torch with a 51 nm radius…. By day the crystals are covered by a curtain all around, to protect the crystals from sunlight. But by night, the crystal head with it’s four beams is turning and turning, one full turn every 24 seconds, and it’s balanced in a bath of mercury. It’s powered by a diesel generator and if that fails, there’s a back up propane set up. The lighthouse was designed by a French company- from Paris… It’s beautiful: significant, simple and functional.

One of the marine conservationists takes us to Isla Redonda. We visit the boobies and walk around the island in half an hour, it’s very very small. The white and brown boobies live here and the black fregatte birds on the next small island. The fregatte birds keep circling over the boobie’s territory. Every now and then they attack and peck at the throat of a flying boobie to make it spit out the fish it just caught.

Training training training – we are not only working and operating and sailing the Heraclitus - we need a crew to move this ship so we have to call and raise the level of knowledge to the point when people know what a halyard, a lazy jack, a wild cat, a course is, how to check the oil level of the main engine, how to produce a dinner for 14…

Every day I turn on the satellite phone at least once to check for messages from Freddy Dempster- he’s analyzing several internet sites specializing on marine weather – and sends us his expertly individualized forecasts.

Now the voyage feels like it is never going to end- we are staying another day in Abrolhos because Freddy’s message told of Northerly winds today and tomorrow, only then possibly turning east and more favorable for us. If we’d motor, we would blow out $200 Dollars a day just to get 80 nm or so ahead. Instead we shall wait a day or two and sail.

We finally depart- the wind picks up on the 13^th earlier than expected, so we raise anchor and sails and swiftly go with a force 5 up to a force 7. All of the sudden, Salvador is only 3 days away. On the 16^th we approach the entrance to Bahia dos Todos os Santos---we keep our sails up, pushing our course and putting the wind as much as we can astern to make it into the bay. We sail really close by Salvador, between numerous anchored cargo ships, passing towards the island of Itaparica, where a quiet anchorage is waiting for us. After a few days rest we will cross the bay once more for the big city.

Here now. I take in the new latitude, the tropical air, thick and sweet, even at night.

I haven’t been so happily relaxed for a long long time…Bahia here we come.