The southern island has only a few fishing shacks ashore, but the small northern island (about the size of the backyard where I grew up) is occupied by a Colombian Navy unit. Eight very young sailors and a commandant who must have been almost 25 years old are defending this island from God knows what. They are rotated out every 30 days, and there are actually several sand bagged, machine gun bunkers from which they maintained that they could repel any invaders. I think they are worried that if the island is left unoccupied that it will fall into the hands of the Nicaraguans (the island is much closer to Nicaragua than to Colombia), but only a few fishermen and about 20 sailboats manage to arrive here each year. The uniform of the day for the marines was black tees, black bathing trunks and flip-flops, and all of the sailors were friendly and apparently very glad to have company.
We walked their island, snorkeled on the ocean reef, and collected fresh conch for dinner (a highly overrated delicacy). I also attempted to set up my new hammock on the bow for the evening. I dreamed of fresh breezes while I swayed gently back and forth over crystal clear waters. Or so I thought. I got the hammock slung about 4 feet above the deck and climbed in. A slight sideways motion on the boat started the hammock swinging, gently at first, then building momentum. By the time i screamed for Andrea to save me I was swinging in an long arc about four feet left, then four feet right, with no way to grab anything to slow myself down. Andrea might have been a little quicker to help if she hadn’t been laughing so hard.
A weather forecast of high winds to come got us moving the next morning for San Andres. We had a beautiful spinnaker sail for most of the 25 mile trip to San Andres arriving just before dark. San Andres is a resort island for the Colombian mainlanders (sort of a mini Hawaii). The island’s economy revolves around the water sports, tour boats, and scooters for the tourist population. It is hard (impossible) to describe how clear the water is in this part of the world (to call it swimming pool water or bath tub water would be a disservice), and San Andres is a popular snorkel and dive spot. The main town is clean and modern, but the island is small.
There is a considerable Jamaican influence, but Spanish is the language, and we may very well be the only Americans on the island. We rented a golf cart to tour the island and made a complete circumnavigation in about 4 hours with stops along the way for beers and coconut drinks. The rental manager was very impressed that I already knew how to drive a golf cart. Now I know where old Club Cars go to die. Our first view of Colombia is very favorable. Everyone has been very friendly, the stores are modern and full of goods for sale, the music is loud and raucous, and the prices are suited to tourists (a little high) though a bottle of Colombian beer only costs about $1.50 at the bars.
We are settled here for a few days waiting for a good weather window to sail to Providencia 60 miles to the north. Winds have been blowing 15 to 25 knots from the north since we arrived, and the seas are up, so we will wait patiently for a good opportunity to sail this final short leg before setting off on the long trip to Guanaja and Roatan.
