Carnival

Despite Crystal leaving for Colombia, we decided to stay for the famous lighted parade of Carnival. Days before the parade locals and businesses set up viewing stands on trailers one after another along the entire route. Da’ prade be statin’ around 8:00…. plus two hours and then some as the crowds along the parade route grew in size and drunkenness. The first sign of the parade was the tremors of the earth! Then off in the distance we could see the glow of lights back behind the trees in-island. What followed was a full out assault of our visual and audible senses. Gleaming semi-tractor trailers with walls of concert speakers from ground level to 10’ above the cab window ripped through our ears until they almost started bleeding. Just behind the cab was a generator big enough to power a small city running full tilt to amplify the sounds of the band on the trailer stage. As the vehicle proceeded by, the sides were also lined with speakers. For each trailer and band came a portable bar on wheels. It’s purpose was to keep the “hot” ladies and men moving to the rhythm without inhibitions. Each choreograph group was adorned with an incredible array of colorful lights, fabrics, and feathers accentuating their romance novel bodies. Eventually the children were succumbing to the sand man despite the sound pulsating through their bodies. Rather than have them fall out of their viewing tree, we made our way back to Side-by-Side around midnight. Anchored a few hundred yards from the street, our hull resonated with the sounds of the celebration that continued on for some hours into the morning. They sure know how to party in Aruba!

Around Aruba

Team Johnson landed via Jet Blue back in Aruba with 49.5 pounds x2 bags each plus a carry on each. Now I know we’ll never see the water line again! Looking like the Beverly Hill Billies, we headed to the marina. Side By Side was just as we left her and to all our delight, our hermit crab habitat proved a success. Rather than the tears of setting them free or of finding them out of their shell and dead, we had made vacation arrangements for them too. Half jokingly, we had asked both the Sea U Manana and Crystal kids if they wanted our pets for a month. Shockingly, there were no takers. Lining the sink with rags, we layered in sand most of which did make into the sink. Next, Parker and Sabrina created a habitat and activity center for them complete with dripping water from the dehumidifier.

Literally the morning we were leaving the marina we found our first person in the office. The fact that I wanted to pay my marina bill, unlike some of the local boats, she opted to not even charge us for the additional 3 days we were there. Unheard of in the marina business.

Seeing Jana, Lisa, Kurt and Nadine on Crystal brought more joy to the kids than the expensive Christmas surprise. We spent as much time with them as possible. Crystal ended up spending the month there and loved it. Our anchorage was the airport anchorage where the international runway was only a few hundred yards away. We could read the instructional labels on the planes as they landed such as “fuel”, “exit”, “not a step” etc. Renting a car we set off to tour Aruba. Perhaps the best part, better than getting lost on dirt roads in the interior scrub land, was the ostrich farm. “’Dems good eatin’ ya know”. Our guide informed us all about ostriches from eggs to babies to a one-way vacation off the farm to a food market near you. Ostriches are a very hardy land bird able to survive extreme climates and with limited food sources and good for you too. Our journey eventually brought us to the NW shore with the beautiful lighthouse. Looking back onto the island we could see the second homes by the hundreds and the condo district of Island America. We got your McD’s, Smokey Bones, etc, etc. That evening we gorged ourselves on ribs and more ribs. In one day, we saw the real Aruba where the locals live by the oil refinery (run by Venezuela by the way) and cruise ship/hotel fantasy land at the other end of the island.

Well they don’t discriminate in Aruba and so my “partner” Kurt and I got a membership to Pricemart together for warehouse shopping Thanks to Pricemart and our new membership, we loaded up the boat more and purchased a new microwave, one of the few power hungry appliances allowed on the boat.

Mickey Mouse New Year

In succession we celebrated Christmas with the grandparents. For a week of the time we rented a condo in the crashing Orlando real estate market. What was $150 a night last year was now $75 a night this year. Epcot was spectacular Disney reality. How a working class family can budget for a week stay at Disney is nearly impossible. In hindsight, we should have gone to the Capital One bowl and watch Lloyd Carr’s last day as Michigan’s head football coach in a glorious victory over Florida. Basically a home game for Florida, Michigan was given a slim to no chance of winning.

Then it was onto Park City Utah for the kid’s snow fix. Skiing, tubing, snowmobiling and even some condo tours (free lift tickets) kept us busy for two weeks.

Back to the U.S.A.

Our friends the Joch’s graciously let us stay at their mansion in Key Biscayne. Key Biscayne is just an incredible place to bike as a family. The quiet neighborhoods of mansions, bike lanes and cross walks on the main road and public parks on both ends, one of which used to be a zoo. Collectively we had 3 spills and Sabrina almost “met her maker” crossing a street when she was told to stop. Tragedy avoided, we made our way back for an incredible afternoon feast we all helped prepare. It was the maid’s day off so two beautiful babes and me in the kitchen, I wasn’t complaining. Topped up and repacked with clean dry laundry Orlando was calling. Hugs and kisses to the Joch’s and we were singing Christmas carols along the I-95 concrete corridor of SE Florida. That didn’t seem to appropriate so we tuned in some hip hop pop to pass the time.

Leaving Crystal and Stormy Nights

A few days later, Crystal finally sails in from the islands of Venezuela. To welcome them, I made arrangements for dinner on the beach at the Bonaire Beach Club Resort. After sundowners we zoom off down the coast to dinner. Since we made reservations and were a large party they had set up a large linen covered table on the beach with candlelight and everything. For $10/adult we enjoy an all you can eat BBQ buffet on the beach! We are all tied up at Hanks dock. The kids can roam freely with their scooters, snorkel under the dock checking out the over dozen moray eels and even bone fish. Bone fish are the prize of saltwater fly fisherman. They are mystical, elusive, and put up a great fight. I confirmed what Doug and Kim had said, the reality is they spend their days rooting around in the shallow sand like a pig looking for a snack. The kids enjoyed making Xmas cookies and delivering them around the anchorage.

Bonaire was quite lush thanks to the most unusual rain showers and cloud cover that came every afternoon while we were there. This island rarely sees much rain as evidenced by its arid dessert landscape covered in cactus and other prickly scrubby vegetation. As much as we could have stayed here for a long while we told the kids we had to get going to Aruba. This met with much resistance by the children as Crystal was staying behind. As much as we were trying to keep our Christmas plans a secret for the kids, Angie finally caved under Sabrina’s constant badgering and full fledged fit about leaving her best boating friend yet again. “Why do we have to leave!” she relentlessly screamed. “Because we are going to Florida and Disney for Christmas with the grandparents!! There, are you happy now??!!” Not quite how I envisioned surprising our children with a very costly and choreographed gift. It reminded me of the scene in Chevy Chase’s Family Vacation when he says “This is not a vacation, this is a quest! It’s a quest to have fun! In fact, we are going to have so much g@#$% ^&*$#@ fun, you’ll be whistling Dixie out you’re %ss! The stormy evening continued as the most squally high wind passage ever.

Beautiful Bonaire and the Junk Man

The contrasts between Venezuela and Bonaire were evident in our stroll to Immigration. We could wear our watch and wallet vs. cash in our underwear. The classic architecture vs. iron bar art and barbed wire in VZ. Money came from ATM’s vs the black market. Bonaire had a master plan with bikes rolling by vs. deteriorating buildings with ghetto buses rambling along pot holed roads. We wore jewelry , carried wallets, and the kids played on the promenade. The Dutch know how to do it right. Bonaire is a micro Netherlands, soon to be the Netherlands, with proper architecture, codes, culture, zoning, conservation, etc but without the free heroin syringes and girls in the windows like in Amsterdam. Guess you can’t have it all.

Upon arriving we picked up a 10/day mooring as no anchoring is permitted. For the same price including electricity and high speed wireless, you can stay at Club Nautico, a T dock marina run by Hank and his family and they charge $10/day. Hank owns two Mantas, Ushi Ushi and Dushi Dushi (means beautiful girl) and with his sons run day charters for tourists.

Safara, with Mark, Kirsten, Nick, and Ben, is a kid boat we in and had not seen since Trinidad. For $50/day we rented an open bed extended cab mini pickup truck and went on an island tour for the entire day. We cruised by the beautiful homes, the crystal clear seashore, took in the vistas, saw some ancient hieroglyphs, watched the waves come crashing into the coral island on the windward side, watched the kite boarders, saw the slave huts near the salt flats, observed the pink flamingos, had lunch in the locals town, and last but not least met the Junk Man and his property.

As we were nearing the end of our island tour on the NE end we passed this “property” lined with painted up junk and memorabilia. All I know is a hand painted rusty sign arranged amongst a bunch of other signs in Patwa said welcome and that was all I needed to say let’s stop and have a look. Beach trash, a shell of private jet, old cars, appliances, and anything you can imagine that people would have in their home or business that they no longer wanted ended up here. The edifice was set back some 100 meters from the road and his back yard was dense mangroves of the ocean where Angie determined no one could hear our screams. We’re goin’ in boys as we were greeted by Thomas. Sanford and Sons junkyard in the tropics. Inside his home, he had mannequins, many of which were sleeping in bedrooms As a memory he got all of us dressed up in sombreros and guitars and had us take photos with him. The guy was crazy, but in a fun way. Off to the wind mills and slave huts before the rent-a-car time was up. A great day was had by all.

Goodbye Venzuela

Isla de Aves (Bird Islands) is a very apropos name for the area. Out in the middle of the ocean exists two island specks loaded with seas birds because the fishing is spectacular. At sunset we passed the time away paddling along the mangroves observing the bountiful species and sounds. We were fascinated as to how close hundreds of birds would allow us to approach without flying off. Of particular interest in the seas were the midnight parrot fish, an extremely rare treat. They are 2-3x bigger than parrot fish with midnight blue bodies. Like Tortuga, there are a couple of fishing camps occupied by very friendly salt of the earth fisherman. Cigarettes and rum go a long way in trading for lobsters. They actually came back and bought Angie an extra lobster to sweeter the deal. The rum cost us a whole $0.50, we love this country. The islands we anchored between appeared to have tall hills; upon closer examination the hills turned out to be the remains of unsustainable conch harvesting. Never in my life have I ever seen anything like it. A conch shell graveyard of tens of thousands of conch harvested for profit. VZ now has an out and out ban on conch harvesting. The best snorkeling on our journey was at the Eastern Aves. Well goodbye Venezuela. We came far longer than we expected. We saw, far more than we planned, and we explored, without incident or mishap in a place avoided by most of the cruising community. The wind is up and so are the sails carrying us into the sunset to beautiful Bonaire.