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March 4, 2010 – Callao, Peru
By Herb McCormick
For the longest time imaginable, Peru would not reveal itself. We’d been closing on the coast all evening long, and it was there on the chart-plotter, and even on radar, so we knew it was lurking in the darkness and the haze. But the actual shape of the thing, the form and coastline, never quite materialized. It was a rumor in the night.
That’s not to say we didn’t have visuals, or company. As midnight passed on Wednesday, and Thursday begin to gain momentum (and morning light), there were dolphins leaping, sea birds swooping, sea lions bobbing, and even a couple of small fishing boats plying the coastal waters. The only thing we couldn’t see was South America.
When Peru finally did appear, sometime in the mid-morning, it wasn’t at all what we expected. Before the mainland actually appeared, the island of San Lorenzo loomed into view. The southern flank was sandy, desolate and utterly uninhabited. We were only miles from one of the continent’s major population centers – Lima, home to eight million people, and just a few kilometers away from our actual destination, the Yacht Club Peruano in the adjacent, working seaport of Callao – but we might’ve well as been on Mars.
“Welcome to Dubai,” said skipper Mark Schrader.
“Very desert-y,” said mate Dave Logan.
“It looks like the Sahara,” said photographer David Thoreson.
The temperature matched the milieu. It had been a humid night, the decks damp with condensation, and the morning had been thick and hazy. But as San Lorenzo grew bold off to starboard, and the isle grew in length and altitude – all bluffs and dunes with a touch of Santa Fe-like striation – the sun broke through the milky sky and the air became stifling and steamy. The fresh, open air of the vast, blue Pacific was behind us; now, just a little over 700 miles south of the Equator, we’d returned to the South America of our travels last fall, of nuclear French Guyana and the toasty bulge of Brazil.
Boobies, pelicans, petrels and all other varieties of seabirds splashed and soared all around us. “It’s a ‘birdy’ place,” said Logan, enjoying every opportunity to add a ‘y’ to each word possible. It was a birdy spot all right. That certainly wasn’t snow on San Lorenzo; it was Olympic-sized piles of guano.
Then, we popped around the corner and everything changed. There were people on the beach, a cruising sailboat tucked up under the lee, little bowls of sand perfect for sand-surfing. There were palm trees and buildings, a fish farm, radio towers. The headland on the northern flank looked like the Dune of Gibraltar. Sam Treadway, our guest crew for this leg, has been reading Frank Herbert’s sci-fi classic – yes, Dune – on our way north. The island would’ve been a perfect location for the movie.
Even more strikingly, as far as the eye could see, were dozens and dozens of ships and freighters of every description, a testimony to waterborne commerce, at least 70 or 80 big boats in all. We knew our berth was in there somewhere, but it was hard to gauge our bearings, and impossible to know exactly where we were supposed to park.
“Wild,” said David T, alluding to the instant transformation from a lone boat at sea to part of a vast, pulsing fleet. “Absolutely bizarre.”
Suddenly, a launch appeared out of the chaos. They pointed us to a mooring. We picked it up. Five guys scrambled onto Ocean Watch. “We’ve been boarded,” said David. There was a flurry of Spanish, a blizzard of Spanish. Suddenly, one of the guys, tongue in cheek, said, “Hey, does anyone here speak English?” Everyone cracked up. Skipper Mark Schrader picks up the story here:
“I started getting pretty worried about customs/immigration/inspection/practique procedures for our Lima arrival a few days ago, after reading about the unhappy experiences of several south-bound boat travelers when they arrived in this port city.
The fees, paperwork requirements and inspections—all requiring many signatures, time and money—made me almost want to give Lima a pass. Mind you, I’ve spent a few days on this trip doing paperwork while smiling all the while, letting my mind wander way beyond the task at hand while the ‘ca-chunk’ of a mechanical date stamp is busy turning a ream or two of paper into an ‘official’ document. You’ve heard enough about this from time to time. I’m not pretending to be an expert with officialdom, just a graduate student of the discipline, and from what I’d heard and read, Peru was in a league of its own.
“Lima, for those of you still with this conversation, has now set the standard . . . . for courtesy, efficiency and friendliness. Because of Dan McConnell’s association with Holland America in Seattle and Bryan Reeve’s attention to the practical details, the best shipping agents in Callao (and maybe elsewhere) were made available for the entry/exit procedures involving the good ship Ocean Watch. Bill Sharp, Vice President of Port Operations and Fleet Security for Holland America, asked their local agents, a company called Inchcape, to embrace our mission and provide some assistance with officialdom. I made email contact with the General Manager of Inchcape Shipping Services, Jorge Contreras, and his Boarding Officer, Daniel Rocca, two days ago. They asked me to forward documents you’ve previously heard about, including some I didn’t mention, and then I didn’t hear from them until this morning.
“I’ve been dutifully sending position reports twice a day to the Peruvian Naval authorities, worried that if I missed this project would end up with a quickly levied $10,000 fine and some free cell-time (I’m talking jail, not phone) for the skipper. So, with some fear and trepidation I made the required but unanswered radio reports, same with the email reports and we boldly made our way into the port, ready for another frustrating and time consuming experience with papers.
“As we approached the appointed mooring area a launch with a boatload of relaxed looking persons greeted us, motioned for us to tie up to a convenient mooring, waited for use to secure ourselves, and then came alongside and boarded Ocean Watch, five in all. I wasn’t sure at first, because everyone seemed so relaxed, but sure enough – customs, immigration, agriculture and port operations were represented – all collected and led aboard by Daniel Rocca R., our Inchcape agent.
“They occupied all available space around Ocean Watch’s saloon table, opened their respective brief cases and began organizing, completing, stapling and sorting forms.
Daniel asked me for two or three things I hadn’t supplied but had easily at hand, and then bartender Sam and I served cold drinks to all. About the time the drinks were finished Daniel presented a stack of forms for me to sign. After thirty-four signatures I lost count, and I’d stopped reading what it was I was signing. Exactly twenty-minutes, six coca-colas with ice and maybe forty signatures later I was handed back the passports, thanked for the hospitality and told we were now free to move about the country. Twenty-minutes! When I mentioned this same exercise used up all of one and one-half days in Puerto Williams, the immigration gentleman just shrugged and said, ‘that was Chile.’
“Did I mention that Jorge and a very generous and helpful friend of his, Alberto Landazuri, came aboard during this time, greeted us and all of the officials, offered all kinds of helpful hints about where to go, where not to go, where to eat and how to have fun, and then left with the group – less than an hour from when we secured ourselves to the complimentary buoy?
“Halfway through this story the Operations Manager for the Yacht Club Peruano, Jaime Ackermann, hailed us from the club launch and came aboard, another sincere welcome from a well connected and helpful example of Peru’s impressive hospitality. He suggested tonight we relax and sample the cuisine at the Club’s restaurant. Thank you Jaime, the club launch will pick us up at 1830 and deliver us back to OW when the moon is directly overhead.
“In Callao, four days earlier than scheduled and secure on a mooring surrounded by interesting vistas with friendly officials at the ready, I’m happy to report all are well aboard Ocean Watch.”
-Herb McCormick and Mark Schrader with photographs by David Thoreson
*This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos
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