Travel with Indigo

At long last, Indigo departs from Florianopolis, its home at anchor since September 15.  The reasons for its extended stay are numerous and the source of considerable frustration.  Partly the long stay was caused by the intensely bureaucratic and snail-paced Brazilian customs department, which took their sweet time processing simple shipments of parts and spares.  But far more delay was caused when a local diesel mechanic working in Indigo’s engine room left a sea water hose unattached without turning off a valve, thus allowing water to flood into the engine room.  This was not detected until the room had flooded to the deck plates, damaging pumps and electrical connections, all of which had to be rebuilt.

From Florianapolis, we cruise a short distance to Imbituba, an important port for southern Brazil, where we tie up to a huge concrete ship pier and take on board by prior arrangement a shipment of parts and a new outboard motor for the tender as well as a considerable quantity of fuel.  While the shipment is being loaded and fuel pumped, I take a taxi into the somewhat famous town of Guarapabba, noted as the surfing capital of Brazil.  It was here just a few months ago that the world surfing championships were held.  We have arranged for an English speaking tour guide named Andrea to escort me around the area.  Together with the cab driver, we visit Praia Fosa (or Red Beach), a site of fine homes and beachfront pousadas (inns).  Following a wonderful lunch at the seashore, I return to Indigo for the night.     Phil

There is a sadness in the air, this last day together.  I’ve now spent two solid weeks with my best friends of 50 years, and all without a cross word from anybody.  Earl, ever the foil for Chris and Pete, has taken the abuse with his irrepressible good humor and energy.  […]

Worn out by all the fun, this is a day of needed rest.  All of us just lounge around on Indigo, take a van ride ashore for a Japanese lunch and some brief shopping, then return to the boat for naps.  When I suggest we should have a going away party tonight (the three amigos are leaving in the morning), Pete, in a flash, hollers out, “The hell with that.  I’m partied out!”  Uncle.  we all probably need to check into the Betty Ford Clinic.

John Pollok arrives this morning from Recife, Brazil to join me until September 27.  He recently retired as a chief of the Federal Police, speaks great English, and is a genuinely fine man with fascinating stories to tell of his government service.  […]

From Porto Belo, we make our way in still inclement weather to the famous island of Santa Catarina and its principal city of Florianopolis, called Floripa by the locals.  As we have moved south, the economies of the states and towns have grown ever more wealthy, the streets cleaner and less pot-holed.  […]