‘Do not sail back to Aruba’ is what our friend Greg and many others sailors who know the route told us. French Polynesia was closed to most sailors, including us, during the majority of 2021. At the same time, sailing in the Caribbean had also several constraints due to Covid. Most importantly, we did not want to get caught by surprise (again) and be forced to spend another 94 days (or even more) somewhere at anchor without being allowed to leave the boat. 

Spending another hurricane season in Cartagena was possible, but wouldn’t it be so much nicer to explore another – hurricane safe – place? With that in mind, we decided to give it a try to sail from Cartagena “straight” back to Aruba. We were three crewmembers: Nora, Jürgen and I and we tried twice.

The first attempt lasted only 4 hours. Then a strange wave hit us and our main sheet traveler car broke down. The working load limit of 1.8 tons of the traveler car was obviously too low for that wave. Regardless, if it hadn’t been for the traveler car, who knows what the second “weakest link” would be that would break, if the traveler car had been a bit stronger? 

Since it can take up to several months to get a traveler car shipped to Colombia (actually that is the fast bit) and through Colombian customs (that is the uncertain bit), we decided to jury rig the traveler car and set off for a second time a few days later. This time, we got everything right. In winter and spring the most difficult part is getting from Cartagena to Santa Marta. Whereas in summer, usually, the strongest wind and highest wave area moves further east towards Cabo de La Vela.

Crossing in March, we thought of a simple strategy: let’s make it first to Santa Marta and then let’s take it from there – somehow – to Aruba. For the tactical decisions how to get to Santa Marta, we benefited from the wind typically calming down at around 2 or 4 AM and then picking up again at maybe 11:00 AM. This allowed us to plan two trips, leaving at around 4:30 or 5AM each of the two days it will take Barbarella to get to Santa Marta. We planned to seek shelter the first night in a bay we thought is very safe for anchoring. As to the second night, we hoped to arrive at Santa Marta Marina. Planning the second leg was tricky, because we did not want to leave earlier than 5 AM, as we wanted to pass through the river mouth of Magdalena River at daylight in order to, at least, be able to sight logs and other stuff the river regularly carries into the Caribbean Sea. When approaching the Magdalena River mouth, on the second day of our journey, we were called on channel 16 by Barranquilla port control. They were watching us and gave us detailed recommendations on how to pass the river mouth and how to stay away from the ever-changing sand banks and the breakers that come with them. Half an hour later a big freighter called us too. They gave us their observations and insights on how to proceed safety. It felt extremely comforting to know that others out there care for you. At the same, time it showed us that sailing west to east along the Colombian is not too common during that particular time of the year.

After passing Barranquilla, we hoped for the wind to shift a bit during the day, so that we did not have to tack that much. The wind did exactly that. As forecasted, and as we wished for, we could sail in one big curve, parallel to the “new moon shaped” shore towards Santa Marta, where we arrived 6 minutes after sunset.

 There, in line with our strategy, the worst was over. At least, that is what we thought. We rested two days at Santa Marta and left again at 5 AM in the morning, taking advantage of the very low wind, forecasted: at 8 knots with 16 kts of gusts. The plan was to motor or to motor-sail as far eastwards as long as the wind stays low, subsequently to start sailing and beating against the wind once it would be too strong to motor against it, which was forecasted for around 12:00 or 13:00. Unfortunately, however, as soon as we passed the first cape, a couple of miles north of Santa Marta, we found ourselves in 36 – 40 knots of sustained wind, with gusts into the mid 40ties. ‘What happened to the forecasted 8 to 16 knots?’ we thought. Maybe, it is only the cape effect, we reckoned and further out there would be less wind. But with mountains as high as 5000 meters nearby the “cape effect” area could be a larger one. Hence we sought shelter in the first bay north of Santa Marta, where we reassessed the situation having nice goulash and spätzle from Leon de Baviera for lunch. Later that afternoon, the wind seemed to have calmed down. A passing freighter, which we called on the radio, confirmed that the wind was down to a “gentle breeze” of 25 -30 knots. So we reinstated our journey. For the rest of the afternoon we were beating into the wind with a true velocity made good of 2.5 knots. That meant – since the wind (and 2 – 3 meter waves) came directly out of the direction of Aruba – every hour sailed, we only got 2.5 miles closer to our target: Aruba, which was 250 miles away. At least it was easy math to calculate how long we would have to beat against the wind and waves. During the first night shift, the wind picked up again to 36 knots making sailing very uncomfortable. As we all know, during the night, when one cannot see the waves and the gusts coming, the wind feels much stronger and the waves appear much higher than during the daylight. Of course, the updated weather forecast did not foresee this increase of wind that far out, away of the Colombian coast.

With 4 more days and nights ahead of us, we quickly realized, it would only be a question of time before a line would chafe, blocks or the jury rigged travel car would crack …

In the end, we made the difficult decision to turn around, sail back to Cartagena and spend another hurricane season there. In total, it took Barbarella more than 4 days from Cartagena to the point where we turned around. Sailing back, downwind, was however a smooth and cozy ride for only 18 hours… 

 Now Barbarella awaits in Cartagena for our return from Europe in December 2021…