Click me to read our article as it appears in the magazine

The latest TRAIL magazine featuring another Eat.Run.See adventure has just been published! In this issue we share our amazing experience in Chilean Patagonia; running and hiking through pristine wilderness in Torres del Paine National Park in the far south of Chile. If you’d like to read more about our adventures in Patagonia, we cover Chile and Argentina in greater detail (and with many more beautiful images!) on our blog.

Click on the link below for our article as it appears in the magazine:

TRAIL 15 – Eat.Run.See Loves Life in Breathtaking Patagonia

If you’d like to enjoy the full magazine packed with awesome trail goodness, pick up a copy at supermarkets or bookstores in South Africa, or buy a digital copy online via one of these links:

Zinio: http://ca.zinio.com/www/browse/product.jsp?rf=sch&productId=500650714

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/trail-magazine-sa/id979830150?mt=8

We’re once again incredibly proud and excited that we’re featured in TRAIL, South Africa’s leading trail running publication. The latest issue continues our involvement as regular contributors, as we share tales from the trails that we explore and experience on our global adventure.

Click me to read our article

Another awesome issue of TRAIL magazine featuring Eat.Run.See! This time we cover running  in the Honduran jungle – an exhilarating experience! We also talk about how we’re traveling on a plant-based diet and what makes our list of most memorable vegan plates and places.

Click on the link below for our article as it appears in the magazine.

TRAIL 14 – Eat.Run.See Survives Honduras

If you’d like to enjoy the full magazine packed with awesome trail goodness, pick up a copy at supermarkets or bookstores in South Africa, or buy a digital copy (from wherever you access the interwebs) via one of these links:

Zinio: http://za.zinio.com/www/browse/product.jsp?rf=sch&productId=500650714

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/trail-mag/id796352591?ls=1&mt=8

We’re once again incredibly proud and excited that we’re featured in TRAIL, South Africa’s leading trail running publication. The latest issue continues our involvement as regular contributors, as we share tales from the trails that we explore and experience on our global adventure.

On our visit to the region in March 2014, we explored the Torres del Paine National Park in Chile and also spent time near the town of El Chalten, within the Los Glaciares National Park in Argentina. In this article we’ll focus on the Argentinian region of Patagonia, with the equally stunning Chilean region covered here.

After our outstanding experience in Chilean Patagonia, we were sure that nothing could compare to the vast uninhabited wilderness, lakes, glaciers, and mountains of Torres del Paine. Boy, were we wrong! The magnificent Los Glaciares National Park in Argentinian Patagonia quietly inhabits the landscape with slowly shifting ice fields, towering peaks, and wind swept trees and vegetation.

After a few days in El Calafate, gateway to Argentina’s Patagonia region, we headed to the small town of El Chalten, the trekking capital of Argentina. Easily accessed by 3-hour bus from El Calafate on Route 23, El Chalten is nestled within the Los Glaciares National Park and provides near doorstep access to a wide variety of mountain trails in the region leading to and through some of the most amazing scenery on the planet. Although the town is tiny, El Chalten has well stocked supermarkets, trekking gear shops, and many restaurants, bakeries and coffee shops. It also has an internet cafe and travel booking service centre. Don’t be alarmed by siesta time though – most stores and restaurants close from roughly 1-5pm.

The town of El Chalten seen from the Laguna Torre trailhead

We loved the simple and understated commitment to mountain exploration in El Chalten. The singular purpose of the town is to support the trekking community, making this a very easy place to find information and exchange grand stories of mountain adventures! Not to be outdone by those who prefer both feet on the ground, this region is also popular with rock and ice climbers.

So many trails, so little time! (oh, and a little Malbec to keep spirits up and hands warm on chilly Patagonian days!)

A few days of weather imposed downtime with extreme wind and rain (common in these parts!), gave us a chance to relax in our cozy hostel, Albergue Patagonia, and research the trail options in the area. Once the weather cleared we departed on our first mountain exploration run – to discover the majestic Mount Fitz Roy standing tall at 3,359m. The spectacular view of this massif is the reward at the turnaround of the 23km out and back Laguna de Los Tres trail with 1,000m of elevation gain. Starting at the edge of the town, the clearly marked trail winds up steadily along single track with varied terrain underfoot. At times hard packed dirt, other times rooty with thick bush, but always beautiful with the freshest mountain air imaginable.

Trailhead leading up to the best view of Mount Fitz Roy via Laguna de Los Tres trail

The view of Mount Fitz Roy in the distance – time to get a little closer!

The trail opens up and flattens somewhat when it traverses the Del Salto stream valley and follows the natural course of the stream passing through two campgrounds along the way. Natural viewpoints offer glimpses of the Fitz Roy peak, but it’s only by pressing on and up the final and very steep grind of almost a kilometer that you reach the trail terminus point at the edge of an old moraine ridge. From this vantage point you can attempt to make sense of the full frontal assault on your eyes: a crystal blue lagoon and eons of glacier pack pushing up against the towering Mount Fitz Roy alongside its less well known but no less striking siblings.

We made it! And what a reward for our efforts!

Team ERS takes a well earned rest before the descent

With the sun out, we basked in its warmth and the privilege of finding ourselves at this amazing juncture while eating our customary trail run snack of peanut butter and jam sandwiches. Fueled up for our return journey we reluctantly turned away from the breathtaking view and completed the trail in reverse. Our legs enjoyed the downhill as much as our minds celebrated the gift of wanderlust!

Resting at the end of the trail before heading back into El Chalten

There are numerous other trails to explore from the village of El Chalten. We ran a few shorter trails to a few easily accessible viewpoints, as well as one additional longer run. This 21km out and back trot with 600m of elevation gain took us along the undulating and relatively easy (albeit rocky) Laguna Torre trail to the lake of the same name fed by the Torre and Grande glaciers.

The Laguna Torre trailhead just above the town

Another gorgeous trail into the mountains

Richard wishing that Bev would stop taking so many photographs – and just run!

Here the mountain vistas are just as grand as Mount Fitz Roy with the jagged spire of Cerro Torre reaching above the rest of the Adela range at a height of 3,128m. If you’re lucky enough to arrive at this point on a clear day (we weren’t), the mythical Cerro Torre may be revealed to you. We had to settle for a brief glimpse of the spiky ridges before a wind storm swept in and literally blew us off our feet while a heavy blanket of cloud descended over the mountains and into the lake basin. We scrambled for cover under a rock shelf until the worst of the storm passed and then hightailed it back to the warmth and safety of our hostel. Another day well lived!

Approaching the jagged spires looming over Laguna Torre with Cerro Torre under cloud

Reaching Laguna Torre with hopes of clear skies

And then the wind picked up and we had to find shelter fast!

Notwithstanding the rough weather, it was an amazing day of trails, glaciers, and mountain bliss!

Overview

El Calafate is the gateway town to Los Glaciares National Park.

Regular buses run between El Calafate and El Chalten, a small town located in the park providing access to some of Argentina’s finest mountain trails.

This region is less structured than the Torres del Paine circuits in Chilean Patagonia, but multi-day adventures with overnight camping are possible if you are self-supported.

El Chalten is a perfect base for single day trail runs with options for accommodation and meals to suit all budgets.

After your trail adventures, don’t miss a visit to the awe-inspiring Perito Moreno Glacier near El Calafate.

Expect unpredictable and extreme weather conditions especially strong winds and quickly changing temperatures.

Bring layers and a good wind/rain jacket along with gloves, hat and neck covering.

Bring sunscreen and lip balm.

Best time to visit is October through March.

Links

www.losglaciares.com/en/calafate (general info)

www.elchalten.com (general info and maps)

www.losglaciares.com/en/parque/#1 (official park website)

www.americahostel.com.ar (hostel in El Calafate)

www.patagoniahostel.com.ar (hostel in El Chalten)

Patagonia, a vast and sparsely populated area (almost the same size as British Columbia), is located on the southern tip of South America, and is home to a dizzying array of breathtaking mountains, lakes, and glaciers. It extends into both Chile and Argentina, and owing to its remoteness and staggering beauty it is a remarkable place to experience true wilderness.

On our visit to the region in March 2014, we explored the Torres del Paine National Park in Chile and also spent time near the town of El Chalten, within the Los Glaciares National Park in Argentina. In this article we’ll focus on Chilean Patagonia, with the equally stunning Argentinian region covered here.

To reach Torres del Paine we travelled from Santiago to Punta Arenas by air, and then bussed to Puerto Natales, the gateway town to the national park. We based ourselves in Puerto Natales for a few days to gather information, complete our planning, and purchase supplies for our trek. We stayed at Erratic Rock, an extremely welcoming and comfortable hostel with friendly people, oodles of knowledge, gear rentals, and scrumptious breakfasts with homemade bread and peanut butter. The hostel also allows returning guests to store bags and other valuables while in the park. We rented sleeping bags and mats from the hostel, and purchased our cooking and eating equipment from a supply store in the town. We had already purchased a small two-person tent in Santiago after calculating that renting a tent for five days would cost more than purchasing one.

Prepping food rations for our 6-day trek at Erratic Rock

Bev ready to set off on the early bus into the park from Puerto Natales

We planned a six day adventure in Torres del Paine, which would see us hike and run along the famous ‘W’ trek which remains just south of the Cordilerra del Paine massif. We initially planned to run the complete 110km ‘O’ circuit, which essentially circumnavigates the massif. Unfortunately we had to opt for a more conservative route, due to logistical difficulties exacerbated by cold weather challenges. So, out of necessity, we set out to complete the ‘W’, with plans to get in plenty of running on the gorgeous trails of this spectacular part of our planet. Over six days we completed the ‘W’ circuit – running more than half of it (a total of 40km or so) along with around 70km of “full pack” trekking with gear, food and camping equipment.

The ‘W’ circuit in Torres del Paine (credit: Lonely Planet)

About to get started with some serious weather ahead of us!

Excellent signposting and wayfinding along the track

We started our adventure at Laguna Amarga, the main entrance to the park. Using the pay-for-use shuttle bus service, we drove the first 10km into the park and then hiked 9km uphill to Campamento Torres for our first night in the park, encountering heavy winds and snow along the way. Campamento Torres is one of two free campsites along the ‘W’ in the park. We set up camp, and set off for our first short run up to the Base de las Torres, where we were treated to a private audience with the splendid granite spires that give the park its name (torres is Spanish for towers). This area is usually congested, and most trekkers arrive for sunrise or later in the evening owing to the logistics of how people move along the hiking routes. We arrived early and had a good 20 minutes in absolute silence to enjoy the company of this spectacular sight with a glorious sunset. An absolute highlight.

The clouds cleared and gave us a beautiful sunny view on the way to Campamento Torres

Our first night on the trail at the free campsite at Campamento Torres

Our little orange tent bracing for a windy night at Campamento Torres

Food mouse-proofing measures recommended at all campsites along the trail

The cooking shelter at Campamento Torres

Quiet time in the presence of the majestic Torres del Paine

The following morning we did the 9km hike back down to the campground Camping Las Torres near Refugio Torres from where we had planned a longer run north east towards Campamento Seron on what is known as the “back” of the ‘O’ circuit. The weather, however, was steadily deteriorating and before long we cut our planned two-hour run short, returning back to our tent after an hour in the now howling wind. It was beginning to dawn on us that wind was going to be a big part of our Torres del Paine experience. Notwithstanding the shortened run, it was still a gorgeous, non- technical single-track trail, which offered wide, sweeping views of open landscape in this part of the park.

Hiking back down from Campamento Torres

Time to hit the trails for a run!

Sweet single-track

That night the wind continued to gain strength, really whipping our tent around, and the following day turned out to be a write-off. It started raining, the wind was howling, and we had little choice but to stay bundled up in our tent for most of the day. We were thus forced to spend another night at Camping Las Torres. We learned later that the winds were at a sustained 70 to 80km/h, a strong gale, according to the Beaufort Scale.

Waiting out the bad weather inside our cozy tent

The food prep facilities at Camping Las Torres

The next day dawned clear, but with no break in the wind. After breaking down camp we hiked the 11km to the next overnight camp, Los Cuernos. It was a beautiful hike, along the northern shore of the magnificent Lago (lake) Nordenskjold. We couldn’t wait to get into our running gear to take in a run along the lakeshore. It was stunning. Unfortunately it was also cold and windy, and with sunset fairly early, we only covered about 5km out before being forced to make our way back to camp where we had to find a way to get warm and make dinner. Dinner was easy in the shelter of the refugio, but it turned out that we wouldn’t be warm again until some time the next day. That night was well below zero, and with our lightweight gear we felt it!

A beautiful morning and time to press on from Camping Las Torres

Setting up camp at Los Cuernos

A chilly but beautiful evening run from Los Cuernos campsite

Stunning sunset at Los Cuernos

Making dinner while trying to stay warm in the Los Cuernos shelter

The next morning we shook the ice off our tent, and set off to Refugio Paine Grande, a good 13km away. Along the way, we left our backpacks at Campamento Italiano and ran the 8km stretch up the “middle of the ‘W’” with the French Valley to our right and the magnificent Glacier del Frances to our left. This was a steep and technical run, offering gorgeous scenery, another major highlight. An out-and-back is required, though, due to the layout of the trail, giving a total of 16km before continuing on to Refugio Paine Grande, making this a rather long day with a total of 29km and a fair amount of climbing too with a total elevation gain of around 1,200m.

An icy layer on our tent in the morning after a freezing night

View from the French Valley

A special little rest on our 16-km out and back run up the French Valley with the breathtaking Glacier del Frances as our backdrop

Glacier del Frances just before the clouds spilled over into the valley

We decided to spend the night in a dorm at Refugio Paine Grande instead of camping as we were very cold the previous night and the overnight weather forecast did not look good. Our sparse and expensive digs for the night was at least a little more luxurious and warmer than being in a tent!

Warm and comfy in our dorm room at Refugio Paine Grande on our last night in the park

Our fantastic gas stove and versatile pot/kettle/serving dish in the communal kitchen at Refugio Paine Grande

The following day was our last day in the park and it was nothing short of spectacular. We put in a 24km out-and-back (just over 1,100m of elevation gain) as we ran up the left leg of the ‘W’ to just beyond Refugio Grey to take in the awesome Glacier Grey. Along the trail there were awesome views of Lago Grey with plenty of side options to reach higher ground for even more spectacular views. The trail was highly varied, all single-track, but ranging from easy, smooth running to highly technical, steep and rocky business. It was the perfect way to end our time in this most memorable place.

A glorious day for a long run in the mountains!

Glacier Grey in the distance

Pieces of ice floating on Lago Grey

Glacier Grey

The glacier stretches far beyond

The changing terrain along the way

Breathtaking!

What a day!

Upon returning to Refugio Paine Grande we caught the ferry across Lago Pehoe back to the park entrance. From here we bussed back to Puerto Natales, very happy to find a hot shower and cosy bed at Erratic Rock, the friendliest hostel we’d encountered on our travels thus far. And so we concluded one of our most memorable adventures with firm promises to return to explore more of this special place.

Waiting for the ferry to take us across Lago Pehoe to return to the park entrance

Our last views of the majestic mountains of Torres del Paine from the ferry – until next time!

Overview

Expect unpredictable and extreme weather conditions especially strong winds and quickly changing temperatures.

Bring layers and a good wind/rain jacket along with gloves, hat, and neck covering.

Bring sunscreen and lip balm.

Best time to visit is October through March.

Puerto Natales is the gateway town for Torres del Paine National Park.

Access Puerto Natales by bus from Punta Arenas (easy and cheap) or ferry from Puerto Montt (difficult and expensive but worth the effort).

Regular buses run between Puerto Natales and the park; buy tickets at any travel agent in town or at the bus station (slightly cheaper).

Entrance fee for the park for foreigners is $18,000 chilean pesos (USD $38) in high season and $5,000 chilean pesos (USD $10.50) in low season; this is a one-time fee per visit regardless of how long you stay in the park.

The W circuit can be completed by starting from either the east or west end, and there are logistical facilities to support either starting/ending point. There are many online resources that offer suggestions for each route, but ultimately your plans will be dictated by weather (as we discovered!). Be flexible and arrive with a good understanding of the route and terrain and carry a map at all times!

Stock up on food and camping gear (purchase and rental) in Puerto Natales as supplies are very limited in the park.

Erratic Rock Backpackers/Basecamp Rentals in Puerto Natales is your best bet for warm hospitality, clean and cosy dorm beds and good rental gear (tell Bill we sent you and make sure you attend their free daily orientation for all the best info and tips).

Camping is the cheapest accommodation in the park with tent and gear rentals available at each refugio (hostel/lodge).

If camping with your own gear, bring a quality lightweight sleeping mat (the ground is hard and cold!) and sleeping bag rated below zero degrees.

Bring a thin rope and zippered canvas bag to store and winch up food when in camp – those Patagonian mice will wreak havoc on your food supply if it’s on the ground or in your pack in your tent!

There are non-camping accommodation options at the refugios that offer a bed as well as food. However, it’s not cheap at an average of US$55 p/person p/night in a 4 or 6 person dormitory, plus another US$20 to US$30 p/meal. The refugios are managed by two companies: Vertice and Fantastico Sur.

Communal kitchen, shower and toilet facilities are available at every refugio.
 

Links

www.torresdelpaine.com (general info and maps)

www.parquetorresdelpaine.cl/en/ (official park website)

www.verticepatagonia.com (camping and lodging in park)

www.fantasticosur.com (camping and lodging in park)

www.erraticrock.com (hostel and gear rental)

Organized races

www.ultratrailtorresdelpaine.com

www.patagonianinternationalmarathon.com

A visit to Machu Picchu tops the list for most travellers to Peru, and for us it was no different. Machu Picchu is a 15th-century Inca site located roughly 7,900 feet above sea level (asl) in the mountains of Peru. The site lies in what is known as the Sacred Valley (roughly 80km northwest of the city of Cusco), through which the Urubamba River flows.

There are many ways to reach Machu Picchu, which sits hidden in the mountains above the town of Aguas Calientes located on the valley floor on the banks of the Urubamba. Looking for something more adventurous than the popular one day train and bus ride to Machu Picchu, and something less travelled and populated than the well-known Inca Trail hike, we decided to join a 5 day/4 night trek over the Salkantay Pass. The pass tops out at over 15,000 feet asl and the trek covers approximately 60km of varied terrain. We chose to trek with Salkantay Trekking, a locally owned operation with responsible trekking practices.

Cusco rooftops

We arrived in Cusco (basecamp for treks to Machu Picchu) a week before our trek departure. Going from sea level in Cartegena, Colombia to over 12,000 feet asl in Cusco was likely to be a challenge, and we wanted to ensure that we avoided our previous experiences with altitude sickness when travelling from Vancouver to the mountains of Colorado. With lots of rest, coca tea and light meals, we managed to ease into the higher elevation with minimal concern – even going running twice during our stay in Cusco!

Streets of Cusco with resident llama!

We stayed at Piuray Hostal for the week before the trek. Run by two friends, it was a great base for our preparation and rest after the trek. It’s situated just outside of the centre of town and provided us with ample room and facilities like a well equipped kitchen, and a lovely patio area overlooking Cusco. It was extremely cold in Cusco and we found ourselves bundled up and in bed early most nights to stay warm!

View over Cusco from patio of our hostel

Our much needed cozy pants in freezing Cusco (a selfie taken on the patio at our hostel)!

Warming up with coca tea in our hostel kitchen

We knew that we might be in for a cold and damp adventure since we were verging on the rainy season in these parts – in fact, our trek would be the last of the season for our operator since the trails close for the month of February due to the inclement weather and the need for trail preservation.

In the Cusco town square after a run

The night before our departure we met at the office of Salkantay Trekking for a briefing with our group. Here we would meet the folks who would share our adventure for the next 5 days. We hoped they would be fun and interesting and, if they were fresh from Canada or America, armed with Clif Bars (and not be opposed to selling a few to us).

We lucked out on the first two requirements, but alas, no Clif Bars! We were introduced to half our group at the briefing – 2 Aussie boys, Jarred and Dan, and 2 American girls, Andrea and Laura. The remainder of the group, 4 deaf travellers from Sweden and Switzerland (Tanja, Maja, Joanna and David) was briefed separately. We’d meet them on the bus the next morning.

The briefing covered the basics of the route, sleeping, eating, transport and safety.  We opted for a fully supported trek, where luggage is carried, meals are prepared and accommodation is arranged by the tour company. To this end, we were given a tote bag for clothes and personal items, which would be carried by the pack animals. Accommodation would be in tents for 3 nights, with a hostel stay for 1 night. Eating would include 3 meals and snacks most days. Transport would include foot, train and shuttle bus. Sufficiently briefed and confident that we’d selected a well organized trek operator, we were ready to begin our next adventure through the beautiful Peruvian landscape!

Day 1 – 10km

We were collected by shuttle bus at 6:30am the next morning with the rest of our group and crew already on board. Our first morning entailed a 3-hour bus ride west of Cusco to the starting point of our trek at Marcocasa, where we met our support team of kitchen staff and horseman. Once everything was loaded onto the horses and our first team photo was taken, we began our 10km hike toward Soraypampa (12,800 feet asl), the location of our first night’s campsite.

Our trekking group and crew ready for an adventurous 5 days!

Getting ready for our first day’s hike

The first 10km of the trek took us along a very walkable gravel road with gorgeous views of mountains, meadows, waterfalls and glaciers. It was a perfect sunny day and we enjoyed getting to know our group mates as we put the first day of the hike under our belts. We definitely felt the increasing elevation and the thinning of the air as we gradually climbed to the campground.

On the road into the mountains

Richard wishing he was running instead of walking this beautiful trail!

We were quickly initiated into the Aussie lingo of Jarred and Dan who are both avid kayakers and were fresh off a month long kayaking trip in Chile. At the sight of anything resembling water, we understood that an assessment of how “runnable” it is must be made before it was possible to continue. The phrase “white water” was soon a favourite across the group! The Aussies also introduced us to their game of “MINE” where any person who says the word “MINE” has to do 10 push-ups. Needless to say, many laughs ensued as we all paid our dues.

A river crossing shortly before our campground – this white water was voted “not runnable” by the Aussies, Jarred and Dan!

After roughly 4 hours we arrived to find our tents set up and our kitchen crew well into lunch preparation – amazing! Lunch was impressive – 3 courses and lots of coca tea! The campsite is a permanent installation run by a local community. They offer sheltered sleeping areas with concrete floors, flush toilets and eating enclosures for each group. There is also a little snack hut that sells water, soft drinks, beer and snacks (with a very generous mark-up!). Here we had a chance to interact with our new friends from Sweden and Switzerland – making use of a small whiteboard to write messages to each other.

The beautiful meadow where the campground was situated

Resting at camp and getting to know our new friends while waiting for lunch

Although we were really tempted to go for a nap after lunch, we couldn’t miss the short but steep 3km hike from the campsite up to Lake Umantay at 13,800 feet asl. For our 3 hours of hard work, our oxygen deprived band of trekkers were treated to a glorious sunny late afternoon and the most stunning views of the lake and glacial backdrop. An afternoon snack spread was waiting for us upon our return – freshly popped popcorn, cookies and hot chocolate! All vegan and absolutely delicious after an energetic day!

Richard and one of our guides, Henry, on the way up to Lake Umantay

Gorgeous vista over Lake Umantay – worth the effort and shortness of breath!

Snack time in the mess tent

Freshly popped, hot popcorn – amazing!

Dinner, with more great food, followed shortly after and our tour leaders briefed us on what to expect the following day, the longest and hardest of the trek. After admiring the bright starry sky, we headed for bed and what we hoped would be a restful and warm night.

Day 2 – 24km

After a cold, windy and noisy night with donkeys braying and cows mooing, we crawled out of our tent and packed up before breakfast. We were very unhappy to discover that a weather front had arrived overnight, cloaking the mountains in thick cloud. Our unhappiness shifted to near misery as the rain began to fall as we set out on our hike for the day!

Early morning mist with no sign of the sunny skies from the day before

Rain and ponchos are quite common in the mountains of Peru!

Where’s Richard?

This was the longest day of our trek, covering roughly 24km and reaching the summit of the Salkantay Pass at 15,250 feet asl within the first 6km. This was a tough 5 hours of single track and switchbacks, taking us into what looked like Middle Earth! The scenery was worth the effort though, and despite the rain and wind, we felt very accomplished when we arrived at the summit of the pass. Here we took a few minutes to rest and have a snack, imagining what majestic mountains were surrounding us, since everything was still cloaked in heavy cloud.

Switchbacks like no other we’ve encountered in our mountain adventures!

At the top of the hardest climb and ready to tuck into our last Clif Bar!

At the Salkantay Pass – the highest point of our journey

Creating an imposing presence along with many other peaks in the range, Salkantay Mountain reaches into the sky to an impressive 20,500 feet asl and is the second highest mountain in the Cusco region. We performed a ceremony to honour “Pachamama” (Mother Earth) and the mountain, according to local custom. This involved laying stones collected from Lake Umuntay alongside the stones placed by local people who make the daily trek up the mountain to honour Pachamama.

Stone cairns laid to honour “Pachamama” or Mother Earth

After a freezing half hour atop the pass, we began our descent. It was still raining when we arrived at our lunch stop an hour later. It was a welcome sight to see the meadow with shelter and the promise of hot drinks and food after our cold and wet morning. Again, it was amazing to see what our crew put together for lunch with very basic facilities, and of course, no electricity. We had soup, quinoa salad, steamed veggies, and pasta – our lunch was all vegan and very yummy!

The remaining part of the day’s rainy hike took us through meadows, hillside villages and muddy marshes, and alongside cliffs and streams. We arrived at our campsite around 5pm and quickly settled into our tent to warm up and change into dry clothes. Amazingly, our gear bags were dry and unscathed after the wet and muddy journey. The campsite was part of a cluster of permanent trekking shelters run by another local family. Facilities included flushing toilets, showers, kitchen and dining area, along with a raised wooden platform for tents. It was still very windy and had gotten quite cold by nightfall and we were very happy to huddle together with the rest of our group for another great dinner and conversation. Jarred and Dan introduced us to a few drinking games (obviously!) which spurred on laughter and general silliness after our long day.

Our digs for night 2

Our tent with very wishful clothing drying in the background

The happy trekkers after a tough day

Day 3 – 14km

We had a better night’s sleep and woke well rested to find the rain had stopped and the sun was making an appearance. Our 14km hike this day would take us along the edge of the Amazon basin, with dramatically different landscape and climate. Bev started the day with a spectacular slip and slide in the mud, landing in a marshy mess next to the horse stables on our way out of the campsite!

Preparing for the day’s journey and saying goodbye to our horsemen and pack animals as our gear was transported by car from this point

Our pack animals ready to make their journey back home

Bev back on her feet after a slip-n-slide in the mud

White water!

Tropical jungle of the Amazon basin

Richard ready for the day’s hike through the muddy remnants of the recent rainfall

We walked on a dirt road alongside a river in the Santa Teresa Valley for most of the day’s distance. We stopped to enjoy passion fruit and bananas from a local plantation, and enjoyed seeing wild coffee and avocado trees. At one point we had to cross the river – luckily a local family had erected a cable way system with car to cross the water and we gleefully took advantage of it!

Beautiful, lush river valley

Blue skies and no rain = happy trekkers

Richard and Laura enjoying a refreshing treat of local passionfruit

The local cableway

“The Beard” on the cable car

Our route allowed us to get a glimpse of rural life as we passed through villages and agricultural plantations. Here the foliage was much denser and overgrown than the mountains we had scaled over the previous two days. It was also warm and dry – a nice change from cold, windy and wet. We were very happy to be hiking in our running gear instead of layers of fleece and waterproof jackets!

We arrived at our lunch spot around 1pm where we enjoyed cold beer and another wonderful meal and much joviality! We spent a couple of hours relaxing and then piled into a minibus for transport to our campground in the village of Santa Teresa. After a quick change into our bathing suits, we piled back into the minibus and headed for the Santa Teresa hot springs.

Our lunch stop and minibus shuttle pick up location

Another wonderful meal and many laughs (with a well earned cerveza of course!)

It felt so good to jump into the warm springs and relax after our days of trekking. The pools are set against a rockface with natural rock “recliners” – perfect for lounging and soaking our weary bodies. It was also quite a treat to have a shower in the natural hot spring showers – after 3 days of no bathing we were ready for a rinse!

What a setting and what a great feeling to relax in the warm water!

A post-soak libation or two – well, why not?

Back at the campground we warmed up with hot chocolate and treats and settled into our tents. Aside from the tents, this campground was also a permanent installation with ablutions (very sketchy at best), dining area and bonfire pit. This night is typically when the wrap up party for the trek takes place, and we could tell that it was going to be an interesting night when the reggaeton started pumping through the sound system! Many litres of Pilsen beer later and the party was firmly underway. Although our group was self-contained, we trekked alongside a group of Australians through Salkantay Trekking. Once the party started, it was mostly a mess of Aussies and Peruvians shaking it into the wee hours!

Our campground for night 3

Richard chilling in the mess area

Day 4 – 10km

Our final day of the trek involved an early minibus ride to the starting point of our 10km walk at the Hydroelectric dam project. From here we followed train tracks and the Urubamba River into the town of Aguas Calientes. It was an easy walk with beautiful scenery which included rugged cliff sides and dense, green foliage. We were also excited to see glimpses of the outer fortifications of Machu Picchu perched high on the mountains along our route.

Our first glimpse of Machu Picchu!

Following the train tracks to Aguas Calientes – our final stop before Machu Picchu

A river crossing with rail bridge

Walking on the right track!

Wildlife along the way

About a half hour before we arrived in Aguas Calientes, the rain started again. We quickly whipped out our trusty ponchos and fended off the wet. Even with the ponchos, we were absolutely and thoroughly drenched when we arrived at our hostel – our only night of indoor lodging instead of under stars and canvas. It was great to be able to take a hot shower and change into dry clothes, instead of trying to warm up in a campsite!

Finally we made it to Aguas Calientes in the pouring rain

On the banks of the Urubamba River, Aguas Calientes is the hub for visitors to Machu Picchu. It hosts the terminus and departure point for bus and train transportation from Cusco. It’s one of the most touristy places we’ve visited and also one of the most disappointing. Some parts of the town are in a state of disrepair and the town seems to have developed too quickly. That being said, unfinished and mismatched buildings are a common part of the landscape in Peru, but it seemed far more pronounced in Aguas. This is especially disappointing since it sits at the foot of one of the most special and mystical places on earth.

The raging Urubamba River – now that’s white water!

Taking advantage of the break in rain to explore the town

The hodge-podge of Aguas Calientes

We spent our last evening with our crew at a farewell dinner, obtained our Machu Piccu entrance tickets, and then made our way back to the hostel in the dark as the town had a power outage caused by the storm. We were again happy to be back in our warm and dry hostel, and ready for a good night’s sleep before our early morning departure for the ruins.

Day 5

Finally Machu Picchu day had arrived! All of our hard work over the past 4 days across roughly 60km was about to be rewarded with our final prize. We assembled at the bus station to catch the shuttle bus up the hill to the base of Machu Picchu. These shuttle buses run constantly throughout the day, ferrying visitors to and from the ruins. There is also a hike up to the ruins, which we opted to do on the way down.

The morning was very cloudy and misty, but fortunately no rain was falling. During our first hour on the ruins site, the structures remained hidden from us in the mist. As we toured the site with our guide, the skies started to clear and we were given our first breathtaking views of the city. We both found ourselves at a loss for words as we watched the magnificent scene unfold. Machu Picchu has to be seen to be fully appreciated. It has an intangible quality that permeates the air while enveloping you in a very visual and almost tactile experience.

Our first misty view of the ruin site

The mist starting to clear to reveal the treasure beneath

Hoping for the mist to clear completely!

Starting to see blue skies and the ruins below

And finally we saw the full site as the mist lifted – amazing, beautiful and breathtaking!

The ruin site is very large, with distinct areas for the various requirements of the civilization that lived here. We spent 2 hours walking through the key ceremonial, residential and burial areas. The site also has tiered agricultural platforms that were used for planting various crops to sustain the population. Most of the core building structures have been preserved and/or restored, but the roofs of the homes are no longer in place.

Agricultural terraces

One of the main entrances to the city with masonry reinforcements hewn by hand over generations

Masonry security device at main entrance to the city

Residential structures and terraces

Ceremonial terrace

Burial chamber

Tower with windows aligned to passage of the sun

Trapezoidal windows feature prominently

An optional experience is a hike up Wayanu Picchu – one of the towering mountains overlooking the ruin site. There is an additional cost to access this part of the site, and only 400 visitors are allowed to ascend the mountain each day, in two timed waves of 200 people. We pre-booked our tickets with our tour operator, but early arrivals at the main ticket booth can also purchase a ticket on site until the quota is reached.

Wayanu Picchu towering over the city in the background

Close up of the peak of Wayanu Picchu

While steep and slippery at times, this hike was a highlight in a day that was already exceptional! The hike took us roughly 20 minutes up stone stairs featuring a few chain link handrails. Once at the top, the views over the valley and the ruins is spectacular. This vantage point gives one a different perspective and allows you to see the ruins in their entirety. There are also ruin structures on this peak, suggesting that this location was used by the spiritual leaders and the king for ceremonial and reflective purposes. We enjoyed our lunch while perched on a big boulder overlooking Machu Picchu – a most unique lunch spot indeed!

View over Machu Picchu from Wayanu Picchu

Oh no – somebody said “MINE”!

A steep but rewarding hike!

Another set of push-ups – but surely you can’t beat this view?

There are also short walks along the Inca trail leading away from the main city in various directions. One path leads to the Inca Bridge, a cleverly designed temporary  bridge built into the cliff face that could be raised if a threat was presented. We also walked out to the Sun Gate, a control point for access to the city when it was inhabited. It also holds significance due to its alignment with the path and passage of the sun throughout the year.

The Inca Bridge protecting one of the entrances to Machu Picchu

The Inca Trail leading to the Sun Gate

The Sun Gate

There’s so much more to be said and shared about Machu Picchu. Even with all the tourists, it’s still possible to enjoy the sacred quality of the site and imagine how life must have been there. There are many marvels of engineering to be experienced and appreciated – from the agricultural innovations and security systems to the aqueducts and interlocking rocks that were hand hewn over generations.

We were sad to leave but the rain decided to return so we pulled on our ponchos and started our trek down the hill back to Aguas Calientes. An hour, and buckets of water later, we huddled into a cozy restaurant for a bite to eat before heading to the train station to board the train back towards Cusco with Perurail. Our very comfortable 2-hour journey terminated at Ollantaytambo, from where we caught a shuttle bus back to our hostel in Cusco late in the evening.

And so ended a truly rewarding, entertaining, challenging and awe-inspiring 5 days, culminating with the sights of Machu Picchu that won’t easily be forgotten or equalled. We were really pleased with the quality and organization of the trek and the friendly crew members. We also had a lot of fun with our group and its cast of funny and interesting characters! We hope to cross paths again somewhere along this marvellous adventure we’re on!

Bev thumbs up: Seeing Machu Picchu after an awesome trek and the new friends we made
Bev thumbs down: Not seeing the view from Salkantay Pass due to poor weather
Richard thumbs up: Clear view over Machu Picchu from Wayanu Picchu
Richard thumbs down: Aguas Calientes

“Adventure”. The word was easily bandied about by friends and family commenting on our plans before our departure. I think people generally have a loose understanding of the word, but perhaps don’t realize or accept that the true definition of the word must include “risk and danger” – here is the Merriam Webster definition: “an undertaking usually involving danger and unknown risks”. This is what wiktionary.com has to say on the matter: “The encountering of risks; hazardous; a bold undertaking, in which hazards are to be encountered, and the issue is staked upon unforeseen events; a daring feat.”, and finally the Apple Dictionary app says this: “an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity”.

As a child, I loved (and still do) the Belgian animated series of books “The Adventures of Tintin” – and those stories have always been my barometer for what can be classified an “adventure”. I can’t think of a single Tintin story that did not include Tintin’s life being in mortal danger at least once in the story. It always struck me that we could not easily have adventures in the real world – there are always a litany of safety regulations and safety fallbacks at our disposal if the going gets tough, which is obviously a good thing. But people still throw the word adventure around as if it is an easy thing to obtain and always has a happy ending.

After having participated in my fair share of risky activities (I could easily have broken an arm here and there) while growing up, I think Bev and I can finally say, for better or worse, sought out or not, that we have had a true adventure.

Below is the account of our six day Caribbean Sea crossing from Puerto Lindo, Panama to Cartagena, Colombia by charter sail boat.

Traveling from Panama to Colombia requires passage by either air or water – there simply is no road connecting the two countries, as there exists an area of jungle, known ominously as the Darien Gap, an area active with drug traffickers and terrorist factions known to kidnap and kill people who venture there. After considering our options, we decided to make the crossing by water, as an exciting and interesting alternative to the rather humdrum air option.

It turns out that water crossing by sailboat is a very popular way to cross between Panama and Colombia with many sail boats offering charter services, including sailing around the gorgeous San Blas Islands, and offering service between various Panamanian and Colombian ports.

After many hours online we selected our boat and captain. Our selection criteria included: good reviews of the boat and captain, size of boat, reputation of trip as being “party” or “quiet”, and finally the ability of the crew to provide vegan meals onboard. Every review we could find of our boat and captain offered a glowing endorsement of the safety and comfort of the boat, the competency of the captain as well as the attention given to the requirements of his passengers. We were confident in our selection of a 50’ Dufour Atoll 6, and while a little nervous before departure, we were mostly excited about a new and unusual experience awaiting us.

We hope you enjoy our short video

The day before departure we made our way, by bus, from Panama City to Puerto Lindo, on the Caribbean coast of Panama. While this journey was one of our tougher “local bus” trips it went off hitch free and we arrived at the departure port where we met our fellow boat mates, and of course, our very experienced French captain, Loic.

Chicken bus to Puerto Lindo

After a nice dinner at a small oceanside restaurant, the 12 passengers had a chance to get to know each other a little before boarding the boat where we’d sleep before setting sail early in the morning the following day.

Dinner before boarding the Amande

Our group was quite varied, ranging in age from 21 to 60’ish years of age, and included people from Canada (us, plus 4 others from Saskatchewan and Alberta), Belgium, Sweden, Norway, Australia and the United States. Early indications were that the group would get along really well, and as events unfolded, it is clear that the way the group gelled was a big part of how well we handled the challenges we faced.

Day one dawned and after breakfast we set off on our way, making a quick stop at a nearby marina to top up the diesel and water tanks (our boat was a Dufour Atoll 6 50’ sailboat with a main sail and a Genoa roller sail and had a 90HP Cummins diesel motor).

A beautiful morning to go sailing

Almost ready to set sail

Enroute to the San Blas islands

Loving the fresh sea air

All smiles

The agenda was to spend most of day one sailing to the astoundingly gorgeous San Blas group of islands where we’d then spend another two days exploring a number of the islands, snorkelling in the crystal clear blue waters, and sitting on the white sand beaches watching sunsets.

Reaching the San Blas required a 6 hour open sea crossing and during this first encounter with the ocean it became clear that not everybody was built for life at sea. A number of our boat mates quickly deteriorated and became quite sick in a very short space of time. Unfortunately Bev also got hit by the green sea monster, and had to evacuate her last meal the hard way. (Two doses of Dramamine later, she found her sea legs and was good to go for the rest the trip). I was lucky, and didn’t seem to be affected.

We reached the first island, and as soon as we dropped anchor, Terry, our hilarious (60’ish year old) shipmate from The Gold Coast of Australia had on his fins, mask and snorkel and splashed into the gorgeous waters for his first bit of snorkeling. He was quickly joined by the rest of the boat – all of us truly enjoying the warm, clear waters of the Caribbean; it was quite awesome.

Screen saver beautiful

One of the San Blas islands

The next two days played out much like what was described above, with short 3 to 4 hour open water sailings to reach the next island on our way, and before we knew it, it was time to hit the open water for the final 30 to 40 hour (wind dependant) open sea crossing to our destination of Cartagena. These first 3 days were simply fantastic. Everybody on the boat got on really well, and it was fun getting to know our boat mates; we were truly a diverse group of people that included human rights lawyers working for the United Nations in Guatemala City (the couple from Belgium), no less than 4 school teachers (2 from Canada and 2 from Australia), a Geology graduate student (the girl from Georgia in the US), and people in various sales oriented jobs (and of course Bev, the marketing specialist and me, the engineer).

Crystal clear blue waters

Just another island

More crystal clear blue waters

Not a bad spot to put down our anchor for the night

The dinghy behind the boat during a short motor

View from the deck on the port side

Another view from port side

Amazing sunset

Amazing sunset indeed

The main sail

To finish our journey to Cartagena the plan was to complete the remainder of the crossing over two nights, and a day and a half, of sailing (aided by motor as required). Our captain briefed us on what to expect, and what we should and should not do as the water could get rough, and much of the sailing would occur in the dark. The tension on the boat rose a degree or two, especially among those who suffered the worst of the seasickness, since we would not be allowed on the deck during the night on the open seas – all would have to remain in the salon or below deck, where the seasickness seemed to be worse for those afflicted.

So, after dinner on the third day we set sail for Cartagena. Most of us heading to bed pretty early as the water was rather rough with a 3 – 4 meter swell with some white water at times. Things were about to get interesting.

About half an hour after Bev and I went down to our cabin, at exactly 8:40PM, I heard a loud noise and saw some of the rigging ropes falling down on to the deck (I could see it falling onto the hatch (transparent plexiglass window) directly above Bev and my cabin) – my first thought was that the cleats holding the ropes which held the sails at the right angles somehow let go and that the sails were now just flapping wildly in the wind – not a very big deal, I thought – surely the captain can quickly correct that. Not long after that though, I heard several more loud noises, and seconds later, as I started climbing up to the salon to see what was going on, the young man from Alberta urgently whispered that everyone needs to get up…now! Suffering from a rough bout of seasickness he chose to remain in the salon rather than going to their cabin below deck. He had a perfect view of what had happened.

The entire mast and rigging system, sails and all, came crashing down across the boat into the water alongside the boat. The mast had simply come undone. It was unbelievable. It was dark, the wind was strong, the sea was rough and I felt the worst fear I’ve ever felt. Mostly because we simply didn’t understand why the mast fell down and whether there was any other damage that we hadn’t seen yet. And whether the mast and sails, still attached to the boat by their guy cables, could have any damaging effect on the integrity of the boat while we were being thrashed around by the waves.

At this point the captain, who clearly had no reason to think we were in any mortal danger, was still trying to think of a way to somehow save his mast. I took a cue from his calm demeanour and managed to calm myself down and think more carefully about how bad our situation likely was. Bev also managed to stay very calm, but a few of the people on the boat were wildly concerned that somehow the mast in the water could capsize us. It occurred to me that the sails, full of wind, above the boat does not capsize the boat, and that since the mass of the mast is negligible compared to the mass of the hull, combined with the very slow relative speed of the current below us there was likely a zero possibility of being capsized simply due to the mast hanging in the water below us instead of being up in the air above us. The captain quietly expressed his opinion that the boat could not be capsized by our situation, and managed to calm everybody down.

After about 15 minutes the captain realized, with a bit of encouragement from the rest of us, that he would not be able to pull the mast back onto the boat and agreed to cut the mast and sails free of the boat. This was no easy task, since most of the 6 or 8 guy cables were still firmly attached to the boat, and had to be released.

It was dark and windy with rough seas, and the only way to get the mast free was to climb up onto the deck and work on the guy cables up there. The captain rushed up with the Aussie, Terry, and one of the human rights lawyers, Bertrand. Bev held on to me and asked me not to go up on deck; she needn’t have as I had no interest in going up there in the dark. While the 3 up on the deck worked on cutting us free of the mast, a few of the larger waves managed to wash into the boat from astern due to the fact that the boat’s attitude in the water was affected by the mast hanging into the water (I was beginning to doubt my earlier conclusion of the inability of the boat to be capsized under these circumstances).

The rest of us who remained in the boat realized that the water washing into the boat was overwhelming the boat’s bilge pump handily and we formed a chain and started bailing water with large buckets. After what felt like a really long time the captain yelled down that the last attachment was about to be released, and with a huge crunch and scraping sound the remainder of the rigging slid free of the boat.

During this whole time the motor was running in neutral, and all of a sudden alarms started sounding from the ignition console and the motor shut down.

The captain attempted to restart the motor without luck – the alarm showed an electrical fault. After another hour or so of bailing we managed to get the boat dry. At this point we were all absolutely exhausted and most people simply went to their cabins to get some sleep. I was hoping the captain would start looking at the motor immediately, but I soon realized that he was completely exhausted and when he said that he needed to get some sleep I realized that it was probably the right decision.

Bev and I went down to our cabin and thus began the longest 6 hour stretch of our lives. Lying on our bed, adrift in rough seas in the middle of the Caribbean, with no mast lights to indicate our presence to other vessels, I was unable to sleep. Plagued by thoughts of waves inundating the directionless boat, simply bobbing around in the sea, I had vivid images playing in my head: us on a life raft drifting around, waiting and hoping for a rescue vessel or plane to find us. Of course, every now and again I stopped worrying about being sunk by waves and instead focused on the likelihood of one of those colossal freighters we saw at the Panama Canal locks broadsiding us in the dark. My only mental respite came from the numerous times that the crew of the Starship Enterprise on Star Trek were able to resurrect their ship from similar states of being without propulsion. Of course, it occurred to me that we could not replicate the parts we needed to replace the mast, and we would have to find a way to fix the engine (hopefully without having to replicate any replacement parts).

We greeted the lightening skies at 6AM the next morning with a mixture of excitement at having survived the night and a sense of utter dread. The captain calmly announced that the plan would be to start with some coffee, and a bit of breakfast, followed by fixing the motor. Not everybody was happy at his rather relaxed start to the day, perhaps hoping for a slightly more urgent attempt at getting us underway. Turns out that it was the right way to start what would turn out to be a long and physically and mentally demanding day.

Right after breakfast, the captain quickly discovered the source of the electrical problem, and successfully started the engine. Our first short lived moment of elation, as within minutes of running the motor, we smelled something burning. The engine was overheating.

The captain stuck his head into the engine compartment for a few more minutes, emerging with a smile and an announcement that he had found the problem. Another short lived moment of elation was awaiting us, as he once again successfully started the engine and started us on our way. About 3 minutes later, the engine alarmed and shut down – still overheating.

I realized that the motor in this boat was very similar to the engines we had in our waterskiing boats when I was a child, and that the motor would be cooled by taking in seawater and pumping it through the cooling system. It was pretty obvious to me that we should start by looking into the water pump. I mentioned this to Terry, who quickly relayed it to the captain. The captain, who was clearly stressed and probably not thinking too well, immediately relaxed and said: “impeller”. Luckily he had spare impellers onboard. The manual was consulted and the captain started the task of checking the impeller – sure enough the impeller was completely shot; 5 of the 6 vanes on the impeller being nowhere to be found in the pump housing – a problem, because it means that they would likely be causing a blockage somewhere in the cooling system. The captain replaced the impeller and started the task of locating the rest of the broken down impeller. After a lot of work, and about 3 hours, he located all the missing pieces, and reassembled the motor. He was ready to test that the water pump was working.

He turned the ignition and the motor sprung to life, this time with engine compartment still opened – this turned out to be very key. He checked the exhaust outlet and no, no water was being expelled indicating that the cooling system was still not functioning. While the motor was still running I looked down into the compartment, remembering that this was how we solved more than one problem on our waterskiing boats. Sure enough, I noticed water pouring out of a grey, plastic box-like device sitting in the exhaust line. The captain couldn’t believe it, but removed the “box” to inspect it. It was destroyed – completely melted (I’m still trying to figure out why a component in the exhaust line of a long run engine is made out of plastic). At this point a feeling of defeat was felt in the boat since it was very clear that this component could not be repaired and there were no spares onboard.

To me it looked like the box was just a muffling device and I suggested we simply bypass the box by connecting the two sections of exhaust together – of course we needed 3” exhaust grade hose to do this. Captain Loic smiled and said in his French accent: “ees no problem, I can do thees”. While captain Loic started this job I checked the motor’s manual and with a sense of relief found a diagram showing the exhaust system indicating that the box is a “water lock silencer”. The only niggling concern at this point in my mind was that removing this box would probably change the exhaust pressure and that may have negative consequences for the engine, but it was our only option at this point. (I was also wondering if “water lock” may prove to be an important part of the device’s name).

Again, after a lot of work and several hours, captain Loic was ready to test the motor. But before he could do that, it was once again time to bail out water – with all the running of the motor through the broken water lock silencer earlier in the day a lot of water had once again found its way into the boat. All of us once again formed a chain and an hour of bailing later the captain was ready to turn the ignition again.

This was basically our final chance – if this didn’t work, it would have been a case of activating the satellite emergency locator beacon and waiting it out, hoping somebody would come to our aid in a reasonable amount of time. The captain turned the ignition and motor fired up (for all the troubles we had with this motor, it started on the first turn every single time – quite amazing for a marine motor in my opinion). And water was pumping out with the exhaust! It was a sweet, sweet moment.

It was time to set the motor in gear, re-engage the auto-pilot and head for Cartagena. The GPS showed our time to destination to be around 15 to 16 hours. It was going to be another long night, hoping that everything held together, and no further problems occurred.

As we got underway, we were concerned about whether or not water was being taken into the boat – and it seemed like it was. It was not clear where it would be coming from and of course the change to the exhaust system was certainly a possibility. We performed a few more bailing operations, finally realizing that the boat was not taking in water, but that large amounts of water previously dumped by the failed water lock silencer had made its way to the bow of the boat and was not previously bailed out. Once we actually cleared all the water by bailing, it became clear that we were not taking in water anymore.

All that we had to do now was sit and wait for 16 hours, hoping that the motor would not stop again. It was another long, sleepless night, and when land was first sighted (with another 5 hours of motoring remaining) the collective mood on the boat lightened substantially – perfectly timed to coincide with the rising sun over a calming Caribbean sea. The chatter on the boat increased as we all started believing that we were actually going to make it, only 28 or so hours late.

Terry – looking happy and relaxed during the final 5 hours of the trip

The mast-and-sail-less top of the boat, with the salvaged boom tied to the salon roof

All smiles again in the salon

Another shot of the deck/salon roof post mast loss

The stricken vessel from the front

Entering Cartagena Harbor

Captain Loic

A happy, and relieved Bev – Cartagena on the horizon

Cartagena – a sight for sore eyes!

This experience provided, by far, the highest level of (and longest lasting) fear I have ever experienced, and while I still don’t believe that our lives were ever in immediate mortal danger I was afraid of the very real possibility of a very uncomfortable, and potentially dangerous and protracted period spent adrift waiting for help, with the concomitant deterioration of people’s humor and all the additional drama that could thus ensue.

Bev was, as always, a super star – she remained calm and helped me through more than a few moments of extreme fearfulness. And to the rest of our boat mates – a big thank you as well. Special thanks must go to our friend Terence, from Australia – he was great, risking falling overboard when helping with the detaching of the mast, and also providing many helpful suggestions during the course of the drama (although he had many suggestions even before the drama started as well! ).

The team in Cartagena

And finally, mixed emotions regarding our captain; of course, I don’t blame him for the mast falling off the boat, but it is clear that there were some engine maintenance issues at play here. However, once the drama started it was his quiet, persistent, and skilled work on the engine that ultimately got us to Cartagena and I believe that his calm demeanour had a very calming effect on all the passengers.

Team Eat.Run.See will take away many memories of this extraordinary trip

(I managed to find this Youtube clip, showing the actual boat we sailed on, before it was acquired by the charter team that we sailed with. The boat was built in 2001 and it was overhauled in 2011 with replacements of various components).