Sailing upriver amidst an international incident

Trip Start Oct 21, 2006
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Trip End Aug 14, 2007


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Flag of Ecuador  ,
Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Our trip to Guayaquil was full of the stuff in classic books - intrigue, drama, comedy, passion & a love-interest... well, ok, maybe not all of those, but you get the idea! We had to sail 40miles up a river to reach this city. We arrived at the mouth at night and began making our way up. The preferred route has been well marked so we found it pretty easy going, even though the tide was pushing against us most the trip. As we approached the city limits, a coast guard boat pulled up alongside us (after T-boning us the first time) and told us we were entering illegally and we must remain where we were until they decided what to do. We pretended not to understand, waved and carried on going up river.
 
They soon departed and we then got the radio calls. "Where is your pilot?" "Where is your clearance certificate?" We assured them we had all the necessary documents, but they decided to bring out the next coast guard boat and boarded us
Cutting away the 'basura' off the anchor chain
Cutting away the 'basura' off the anchor chain
. The automatic rifles and beat-sticks left little room for interpretation and we suddenly listened a bit more. Apparently it was HIGHLY unusual for a private sailing yacht to come all the way up this river and nobody quite knew what to do with us. Everyone turned out to be friendly when they realised we had no drugs, harems or automatic weapons on board. Eventually we had the Navy, Coast Guard, Pilots, Customs, Immigration and other shady organisations all clambering aboard and offering conflicting advice on what to do.
 
We finally reached the city with 10 'advisors' on board and 3 boats in tow. We dropped anchor (cos there was no dock for a sailing yacht to tie-up to) and spent the next 2 days sorting out the paper work. We met the crew of a tourist boat that were tripping over themselves to help us. The captain invited us on board and we were their exulted guests. I endured tours of the whole boat and nodded approvingly when he showed me the engine room, complete with leaking oil and rickety gangplanks. We became mini-celebrities and the anchored boat was a brief tourist attraction while we were there. I think Paul & I could have probably selected wives for ourselves if we so desired.

I never thought that being a gringo was so different to the South Americans, but wherever I went, I got the stares. The was no hostility, just curiosity and interest. I guess the curly hair & blue eyes doesn't blend in too much but I tried not to look like the ever-present backpacker or package-holiday tourist. Once I started using my really bad Spanish, people responded well and I even had a 3 hour conversation with a Colombian girl on a bus in Spanish. I realise my conversation doesn't quite extend to discussing the rise of juvenile delinquency in the modern age but we managed to cover the basics (I think, maybe I started some major international incident!)
Guayaquil hotels Slideshow

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