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Saturday, 30 August 2014


"Oryx" anchored off Florianopolis.

Sailing, sheltering and exploring Santa Catarina State.

Our time exploring the lovely Brazilian coast around Santa Catarina State was dominated by football and fishing. I know most Brazilians were disappointed with the result, but as a visitor I must express my gratitude. Brazil remains amongst the top football countries and as a host the Brazilians were superlative. The atmosphere was vibrant and added to the already enchanting allure of the beautiful Ihla Santa Catarina and surrounds.

Some football facts-
·        Brazil is STILL the most successful national team.
·        Brazil has played in all the Fifa World Cups.
·        Brazil always qualifies without play offs.

The Tainha fishing season starts in the middle of May and ended in the middle of July and wherever we went the silvery shades of the mullet was prevalent, along with the fishermen and their nets. As usual the Brazilians celebrated with gusto and we cruised from one football infused Tainha Festival to the next.

Oryx set sail from Garopaba, our first Santa Catarina town on a bright sunny day with a following wind. The short sail took us alongside the coves and cliffs to the southern end of Ihla Catarina were we had sheltered last year whilst repairing our rudder. This time we anchored on the south side of Enseada Pinheira at the small town of Pinheira. 

Enseada da Pinheira.

"Oryx" hides behind Tainha fishermen's boats and nets.

The sun was still shining and after a few bleak days during our passage from Rio Grande do Sul to Garopaba, we were dying for a bit of extra vitamin d, so we picked up the makings for a picnic and set off for the legendary surfing village of Embau do Guarda.

Embau do Gaurda.

Our somewhat dated copy of ‘The Lonely Planet’ describes Guarda do Embau as virtually unknown outside the surfing community, but whilst it remains popular with surfers for its splendid left breaks, it has definitely been discovered. There are many pousadas (family run inns) and restaurants, but it remains quaint and appealing.

Elements of Africa outside a pousada.

There is a fair share of fishermen in the village too and as we explored the nearby rocks adjacent to the beach for a scenic spot to picnic, we were able to watch the locals casting their nets to catch the plentiful Tainha.

Scavanging for tainha scraps.

Casting the net.

After lunch we climbed through the Mata Atlantica (Atlantic Rain Forest) to the nearby headland. We were delighted by the variety of beautiful butterflies and once we cleared the forest and climbed the rocky outcrops of the cliff to look down on the beaches and coves, we spotted a young hawk in its eerie.

"when a butterfly in Brazil flaps its wings..."

Heading down the headland.

We decided to try hike along the headland and found the pristine beach populated by only two others. We pressed on and clambered over rocks, squeezed through crevices and raced the breakers in places to find our way to the further headland which provided a style through barb wire fences and a public pathway through meadows of white cattle, reminiscent of those indolent beasts that dot the beaches in India.

We met a young couple hiking in the opposite direction and followed their passage through the styles, until we reached a deserted beach with its ever-ready beach bar. Brazil has beach bars in the most remote and most beautiful settings, with convenient camping and facilities, but it was low season so everything was shut, awaiting the weekend or possibly the first sign of summer.

Brazil has the best beach bars!

We made our way across the headland, following the footsteps of fishermen, until we were sidling along the sties of the local farmers before we returned to the beach of Pinheira and ‘Oryx’.

The following day we set sail for the ocean side of Santa Catarina with its vibrant and varied coastline. This outer rim of Ihla Santa Catarina has the best surf spots, making it the centre of surfing activity in Brazil. We sailed amongst a myriad of small islands and then along the eastern side with its cliff hugging beaches and famous surf spots. Ihla Santa Catarina is reputed to have 42 beaches.

Ilha do Campeche.

Aerial view of Ihla do Campeche.

We arrived at Ihla do Campeche in the early afternoon. The anchorage was sparsely occupied by a couple of fishing boats and a brace of tourists were engaged in an impromptu football match on the beach. Their white torsos reflected the light and contrasted deeply with that of their tanned opponents. The Copo del Mondo had begun.

"Crake" on the beach.

Pete and I rowed ashore and explored the northern side of the beach. We made our way through the Mata Atlantica and admired the island of Santa Catarina from the various vantage points. Across the channel lay the town of Campeche, which is home to artists and bohemians. The island of Campeche is an ecological reserve and we explored both ends, but had to turn back before finding the rock drawings as night encroached.

"Oryx" dwarfed by the beautiful mountains of Ihla Santa Catarina.

We had the island to ourselves, afterthe footballers left.

The forecast had predicted a front, so we left promptly after breakfast and sailed south along the steep cliffs to seek shelter from the northeast along with innumerable fishing boats.

Pantano do Sul.

As we rounded the point, we were accompanied by fishing boats of various sizes and just managed to keep up with their chugging engines, under sail. We anchored amongst the fleet of the sheltered village of Pantano do Sul. It lies in a cleft surrounded by mountains reaching right down to the sea.  Fishermen of Azorean descent still inhabit the village. The area around Ihla Santa Catarina was first settled by the indigenous Tupy who called the island Meiembipe, which means ‘the mountain along the channel’ an apt description of the area. We rode out the front in and went ashore the next morning to explore.(My definition of the Tupy word comes from Wikipedia. recently on Ilhabela we found a name with similar spelling described of 'place of trading and exchanging prisoners' - I've opted for the more appealing of the two.)

Sheltered from the northeast, Pantano do Sul is a popular refuge.

We found a small informal town with gaily painted facades, cobbled streets and the ambience of a fishing community. We scrambled up the hillside to try getting a better view of the harbour and Pete managed to find a spot for his panoramic pictures.

Cobbled streets of the fishing village.

Once the front passed we returned to the northern side of the bay at Pinheira, anchoring near the exact spot where we had repaired our rudder last year, en route to Uruguay. (Blog- The Long Goodbye.)

Enseado do Brito.

Camping below the fort on a deserted island en route to Brito.

Small town of Brito with oyster beds in foreground.

The next morning we set out for Enseado do Brito, sailing between islands into the inner sea that separates Ihla Santa Catarina from the mainland. One of the smaller islands had the remains of a fort and someone appeared to be camping there. Enseado do Brito is shallow and we had to edge our way through the shoals to anchored amidst a plethora of oyster beds near the small town. Pete went ashore, whilst I attended to some chores.

Beautifully restored colonial buildings with Azorean overtones.

On the Sunday we had a lazy breakfast and I had just started doing the dishes, when three people in a RIB came calling. They were fellow sailors and we invited them on board. Hector, Rosaria and Daniel and his sister had lived in Florida for many years. Their daughter wanted to attend university, so they returned to Brazil. Hector is originally from Pelotas in the south, Rosario is Peruvian, but has a sister in Florianopolis. They found a beautiful house on the hillside at Brito and their boat is moored in the one deep spot in the bay. They invited us over to their home that afternoon.

Rosaria was delighted with the coffee cups.

We moved Oryx closer as Pete was hoping to dry out to scrub the bottom and rowed to their jetty. We spent a few hours at their home with the football playing quietly upstairs. I felt my first tingling sense of frustration, but meeting new people is always more exciting than watching a game on telly. Rosaria was very gregarious and I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer and get to know them better.

Hector and Rosaria's home is built into the hillside.

View of their boat beyond their jetty from the balcony.

We duly dried out and Pete went wading in fairly cool water to clear the barnacles and weed that we had collected once more.

As we sailed across the bay towards Praia Caicamgucu we saw a large motorboat heading towards us at top speed, it then slowed down and came closer. By this time we are used to boats coming to take a closer look, so I didn’t think much of it until I read the legend RECEITA FEDERAL.

Receita Federal zoot by.

Customs! We communicated over the roar of their engines and understood that they wanted to check our papers. Pete anchored because the current was quite strong and there were some rocks about. We put out fenders and they came alongside, asking us if we were just arriving. Pete told them we’d cleared in Rio Grande do Sul. They didn’t come on board, but checked our documents and welcomed us to Brazil!

Praia Caicamgucu

This might not seem like a big deal, but more and more yachts are delaying their clearing in process to try and prolong their stay in Brazil. Brazil has a reciprocal visa status, so the Schengen countries in particular are finding it very difficult to cruise in Brazil – the country is far to big and too beautiful to see in 90 days. Fortunately for us, Pete is a stickler for obeying the rules and anyway the U.K and South Africa are reasonable to Brazilian visitors, so we can get the initial 90 days renewed without too much trouble.

Last year we met a fellow junk rig enthusiast on line, just before we were leaving Brazil. Marcelo Bonilla lives near Florianopolis so we contacted him to let him know that we were back in the area.


The beautiful skyline of Floripa.

Florianonopolis is the capital of the Santa Catarina State. It was founded in 1726 and was initially called Our Lady of Banishment or Destero for short. It was renamed after Brazil’s second president Marshall Floriano Peixoto. Between 1747and 1756 an influx of settlers from the Azores and Madeira settled on the island and much of the architecture still remains in Floripa (as the locals call it) and more so in the tiny fishing villages on the island.

The iconic landmark of Floripa.

Florianopolis is a beautiful city and has the reputation for having the highest standard of living in Brazil. Santa Catarina State shares a similar history with neighbouring Rio Grande do Sul to the south. In 1820 newly independent Brazil invited immigrants to settle in the frontier area to act as a buffer between the Portuguese and the Spaniards. The Germans were followed by the Italians and these nations didn’t adopt the plantation culture of the northeast. Instead they developed small family owned farms and this legacy lives on in the politics and economics of the area and there is an equitable distribution of income. Floripa’s main industry is I.T. and tourism.

Our first anchorage off Floripa was on the southern side near Ihla dos Conchas. Dusk was just falling and the anchorage was deserted, we had our supper at the normal time, but as we dined we realised that the forecast front had once again arrived early and that our anchorage was going to get progressively more uncomfortable.

Pete fired up his tablet and checked the various options. Ultimately he decided that though the anchorage at the yacht club would be tenable, it would probably not be comfortable, due to the fetch from the south. So we fired up the engine and motored out into the wind and rain and dark. The wind had churned up the waves and steering was not pleasant. However as we neared the yacht club, we turned the corner and the wind was astern and could throttle down and sail under the three bridges linking the mainland side to Florianopolis to the island. All three bridges are well lit, but they seemed perilously low. Pete had checked the height and we were okay, but it was difficult to concede that there was no need to hold one’s breath.

Repair struts to Ponte Hercilio,
The third bridge from the southern side is the iconic suspension bridge of Floripa called the Ponte Hercilio. It is no longer in use, but because it is a landmark, it is under repair, which meant dodging around beacons and floating repair barges. Not much fun in the dark! However the anchorage in Baia del Norte was blissfully sheltered and the city lay twinkling off our bow.

As soon as the weather permitted we went ashore to explore the heart of Floripa. The beachfront is beautifully paved and stretches for kilometres in either direction.

Eco friendly art near the park.

We picnicked beneath the hundred and something year old fig tree and it supports.

We stumbled on a fabulous supermarket with an excellent selection of cheese and wines and even delicacies like sushi. It was easy to see how Floripa got its reputation for excellence. Most of the other shops were closed as we strolled through the centre. We hadn’t yet cottoned onto the fact that most things shut down on the days that Brazil was playing!

Chilean fans in Floripa.

We had arranged to meet Marcelo and Cinthia on board “Oryx” off the yacht club on the Friday afternoon, so we sailed back to the southern side of Floripa and anchored off the yacht club. We went ashore in the morning and the centre was bustling again.

Beneath the bridges, once more.
Anchored near the yacht club Santa Catarina.

We found an excellent fresh food market and stocked up. We also found a great place to have lunch and then hurried back to the boat. Marcelo and Cinthia are in their early thirties and are enthusiastic sailors. Marcelo has been a fan of junk rig and indeed Pete’s lifestyle since reading ‘Voyaging on a Small Income’ written by Annie Hill. We showed then over “Oryx” had coffee and discussed boats. Both Marcelo and Cinthia are architects and they are building a home just south of Floripa on Ihla Santa Catarina. Marcelo wants to build a small junk rigged catamaran, once their home is completed. We wish them well.

Pete ferries Marcelo and Cinthia to "Oryx"

Coincidently Shirley Carter had called in at the yacht club with her junk rigged Vertue called ‘Speedwell’ a few years ago, only to find that the commodore of the club had a sister ship. Luigi then converted his Vertue to junk rig. Unfortunately Luigi died last year, but his little junk rigged boat is still around. The new owner is doing a refit in Sao Francisco. So when Marcelo launches, he will have to settle for having the second junk rigged boat in Brazil!

Speedwell of Hong Kong photo provided by Shirley Carter.

On the Saturday the sun was shining and many yachts from the club were about, milling around waiting for the breeze to fill in. We motor sailed back towards Ihla dos Conchas, hoping to anchor in our old spot, but there were fishermen all about lining the inlets with their nets. After we snagged one, but managed to free it without damage to the net or to our rudders, the fishermen declared that the area was strewn with rocks and unsafe to anchor. Instead of trying to prove a point, we withdrew and sailed beneath the bridges for the final times, continuing until we were in the anchorage at Sao Antonio de Lisboa.

An idea of the safety margin! Fortunately "Oryx" has lower masts.

Santa Antonio de Lisboa.

Andrea's gaff rigged boat.

One of the first observations Pete made was: ‘there’s an interesting boat in the anchorage’ and there was. It was a gaff rigged 30’ wooden boat, with a long shallow keel. When Shirley had written to us about Luigi and his junk rigged Vertue, she had given us the contact details of a friend called Andrea Piga. Whilst Marcelo Bonilla and his Italian name are Brazilian, Andrea is indeed an Italian living in Brazil. He originally hails from Sardinia, but came to Brazil as a foreign student and stayed. Ironically, Andrea is the owner of the gaff-rigged boat we’d admired. He was working on his boat when we returned from exploring the small town and joined us for lunch.

Pete and Andrea Piga docking with "Oryx".

Andrea proved to be very helpful, directing us to a nearby cash and carry supermarket and supplying Pete with detailed information about the area between Paranagua and Cananeia. He also invited us to his home for lasagne later in the week, where we met his delightful wife Annelise.

Beach bars and restaurants are up market in Santo Antonio de Lisboa.

Sao Antonio de Lisboa is another charming village with Azorean architecture and roots. It is also one of the oldest communities on Santa Catarina Island. The small church in the square dates back to 1750. it was here that my cyclical football fever reached an alarming pitch. It was raining in torrents and Pete and I were busy below, amusing ourselves, but it the distance we could hear the crowds roar and saw the slightly dampened fireworks. Whomever they were playing – Brazil had won. I listened inattentively, trying to still the free floating anxiety, but it was starting to chaff, being in Brazil at the time of the world cup and not being able to see the games.

Another fortified island en route to Enseada Magelhaas.

I will not write about each and every cove and anchorage we visited in the area, as they tend to blur, but I will share the photos.

Tainha fishing.

Ihla Antomirium.

Gatehouse to fort on Ihla Anatomirium,

One of the whistle stops we did was at the fortress on Ihla Anatomirium. We rowed ashore and had the island virtually to ourselves. There were a few workers renovating parts of the fort, but the ticket booth and the restaurant was closed. We had an unscheduled picnic and set off for yet another cove.

Towards the end of June we started seeing dolphins on almost a daily basis and on the 26th we saw our first whale in a while. It was smallish and Pete reckoned it was a Fin whale. We sailed from the mainland to the island and back again, using the various headlands to shelter us from the prevailing winds.


Lagoinha by night.

We anchored off the north easternmost tip at a beach called Lagoinha, where a slender peninsula of rocky cliffs separates the crescent shape beach from the turmoil of the Atlantic, creating a pool of calm.


We've anchored alongside "Faial" on three occasions, twice in Uruguay and now in Jurere, but have never met the people.

We then sailed to Jurere, which thrums with tourists in the summer time to join Andrea and his wife Annelise for lasagne, before sadly and slowly bidding farewell to the island of Santa Catarina to sail north and explore the rest of the state.

Armacao de Piedade

Armacao da Piedade

Cemetary at Armacao da Piedade.


Angel guides us on our way!
Approaching Gaunchos.

We stopped at a small town called Gaunchos on the mainland where we found a slower pace and the feel of a real Brazilian town once more.

Homeless? No, boatbuilder!

Neighbouring town.

Ihla do Arvoredo.

Ilha do Arvoredo

Ihla Santa Catarina in the distance.

On the day that Switzerland played Argentina we were anchored off the remote island called Ihla do Avoredo. We were all alone, bar the birds and two lonely fishing boats at night. It was beautiful and serene, but I was aching to know how the football went!
Sunrise off Arvoredo.

We sailed amongst the little islands and anchored for lunch in scenic bays on our way north to Porto Belo.

"Oryx" off Praia Conceicao

Caixa d' Aco.

Each place vied with the next for scenic splendour and when we dropped the anchor in the small bay of Caixa d’ Aco, I thought I was in heaven. The water was so clear you could see the bottom and there were lush tropical beaches screening the bay. A floating bar bobbed at our stern.

Eric's delightful bar!

Previous visitors to the bar.

Table map of area.

We were still stowing the ropes, when a chap from a neighbouring boat rowed over. His name was Eric and he was the owner of the bar. He declined coming on board, as he was busy repairing a leak on his boat, but gave us the code for his wifi!

Tropical  paradise reveals highrise!

Porto Belo.

Porto Belo is another beautiful small town with fishing roots, but in the distance the first of the high-rise cities that dominate the Brazilian coastal skyline is evident. They have a penchant for tall, impossibly thin buildings. We are never quite sure whether the size is determined by the width of the plot or whether it is fashionable. Certainly Brazil has no extreme weather conditions and the building rise perilously thin and extremely elegantly.

In Porto Belo we anchored ahead of friends, whom we first met in Piriapolis at a braai at their erstwhile home. We met them again when we tied up alongside them in Yacht Club Barlovento in Buenos Aires.

Ashore there was s a Tainha festival staring, so we decided to join in and bought some Tainha. It was Hannah (my granddaughter’s) second birthday and in her honour we had a Tainha braai and the following night invited Franz, Anna and Malena for a Portuguese fish stew. We had a lovely evening and hope to meet them again, before leaving Brazil, but time was of the essence so we set off early the following morning for yet another anchorage. Pete is doing the research for part three of the R.C.C. Pilotage foundation’s guide to Brazil and this is why we tend not to linger to long.


We arrived in the bay of Cambarui in the late afternoon. The wind had failed and we found the ferro cement boat from Porto Belo motor sailing with their sails advertising for F.G.

We later learned that F.G. is one of the main developers in the area and they specialise in the skinny, luxury high-rise apartments mentioned before. We had tried to anchor in a neighbouring bay, but there were yellow buoys apparently depicting the anchoring limit, so we were shoed away. Unfortunately beyond the buoys was just too deep.

There is a cable car that links the bay to a nearby headland and then descends to the beach where we weren’t able to anchor. Along with the cable car there is the only triple zip line in South America and various other rides, which makes Enseada do Cambarui the top tourist destination in Santa Catarina State. The town averages 1.5 million tourists per year. Unfortunately, the mist hung like a thick cloak over the area, so we decided to defer to the next day, but unfortunately that was no better.

Model of the cableway.

Aerial view of Cambariu.

We went ashore anyway and when we explored the cable car station we found Argentina playing Belgium and although I love Belgium and Jacques Brel. I was rooting for Lionel Messi and the boys. This is where Pete began to realise how badly the fever had grown.


 As we explored the beachfront and the shops I was drawn magnetically to the small screens. Fortunately, it was like having wall-to-wall football and as dusk descended my heart was filled with joy!

Models of proposed FG projects.

Launching "Crake".

The following day the visibility was still murky, so we left the cable car option and sailed into the mist, ever onwards.

Enseado dos Cabecudas.

Football feverpitch!

We wanted to call on the city of Itajai, but anchored in a neighbouring bay. The swell was big and I chickened out, staying on board to catch up with chores, whilst Pete braved the surf.
En Route to Itajai is Pedra do Papagaio,

He landed without ado and walked into the city, discovered a bay within the city and on his return we sailed into the harbour and edged our way into the bay.

Big seas, fishing boats and ships add to the rush.

To say nothing of the narrow entrances...

The swells going into Itajai were reminiscent of leaving Laguna, and was tricky, to say the least. We then negotiated the little bay, finding shoals all around. When we rowed ashore, a marinero expressed alarm at where we’d anchored – they were busy rescuing a yacht that had dragged. Pete’s confidence in our anchor never flagged and we explored the inner city at leisure, before returning to lift the anchor and move on.

Tainha (mullet) for Brazil!

Yet another beautiful cathedral.

Cactus supports Brazil!

Once again Pete put  ‘Oryx’ and her helmswoman through their paces, searching the shoals for deeper water. I sighed a sigh of relief as we left, but it was short lived. A lively little front had arrived at the same time as dusk and our next anchorage at Itapocoroia was no less tricky. We edged through the fishing fleet and eventually anchored between a shoal and the shore.


Young Brazilian fan.

We liked this fixer up.

Profane of prophetic?
Saco Picarras!

Viva Brazil, siempre.

It was the quarterfinals and Brazil’s football fever reached its pitch. Many the cars we sporting bonnet and wing mirror covers, children rattled ratchets, houses were bedecked from roof to foundation. We wandered around the town and on returning to ‘ Oryx’ I checked out the local beach bars. One had a T.V. it was time to pin Pete down.

Note the shoulders and the vacuous dame!

More and more legislation against noise pollution.

Rowing back to ‘Oryx’ I tried for a promise that we would see the Argentine versus Holland game scheduled for the next night. Pete was non-committal.  I was not interested in a final, if it was Germany versus Holland, so we rowed back to the shore and I asked the barmaid if they were open for business.

 And they were…so we had an early supper and went to watch the ill-fated match. The bar is a tiny, family run affair and the clients were mostly friends and family. The friendly barrista presented us with a platter of eats to nibble while we watched. All started out well, with her young son wearing his football club colours, eyes glued to the small screen. After the third goal his eyes teared up and he went and had a quite cry in the car. More vocal adults expressed their dismay by taking their bonnet decorations off prematurely. We reassured one inebriated gentleman that we were definitely NOT German.

Where we watched the game!

The little boy watching eagerly.

I was sad to see Brazil so badly defeated, but their defence was lacking and Germany did play well. Slightly deflated we walked back to ‘Crake’ and set sail into the night, dodging oyster farms and a small scattering of island. Of course the wind was light and Pete swapped watches, opting to contend with the oyster beds and light airs. I did my watch out in the cockpit. A pall of silence seemed to hang over the country, but I had finally had my football fix and like a junky I wanted more!

Sao Francisco do Sul.
Historic Sao Francisco do Sul.

We arrived at Sao Francisco do Sul at breakfast time and called in at Praia da Enseada before motoring up the channel to anchor off the maritime museum at Sao Francisco do Sul. Sao Francisco is another beautiful town with restored colonial building lining the front. It is the third oldest settlement in Brazil. As early as 1504 a French expedition led by Binot Paulnier de Gonneville made landfall and settled in Babitonga Bay. Sao Francisco had 400 listed buildings as well as 14 beautiful beaches. We eagerly went ashore to do a recce.

The museum welcomes yachties and provides free water and access to their pier up until 1800, so once we had found the super large pixelated television screen in the Mercado, Pete went to moved ‘Crake’ to a public dock and I went roaming for a supermarket to buy beer and goodies to watch Argentina play Holland. We watched the superlative play with a handful of Brazilians, but unfortunately the television was pre programmed and in the middle of the extra time it switched off. With a sense of anticlimax we reluctantly made our way out into the streets. There was a fancy restaurant nearby with a large television, but we could hardly go there for the final moments of the match. In the distance I heard something and let Pete into the local gym, where we watched the extra time and celebrated with glee as a few men paused in pumping iron. Leo Messi rocks! My team had beaten the bullies.
Vivo Argentina!

Four of the 400.

Football forgotten we rowed ashore the next morning and visited the Maritime Museum, where we were so fascinated by the models and Brazil’s varied seafaring history that we depleted Pete’s camera’s battery.

Exhibits in the marvelous maritime museum.

Brazil smiles!

Coffee shop at museum.

 As I waited for Pete to fetch mine from ‘Oryx’ I spotted a couple of dolphins frolicking in the distance. Of course they chose to do double somersaults and I could only watch in glee and awe. We explored the historic centre and then paused to picnic in a park with the most beautiful coloured little birds. Their bodies are green and their heads are blue with red markings. They are a bit bigger than hummingbirds.
En route to Joinville.


Next stop was Joinville, which lay further up into Babitonga Bay and upriver. It was named after the French explorer, although the spelling is somewhat different. While Joinville is not as German as its neighbour Blumenau, it has decidedly German influences. We anchored off the yacht club, which once again made us very welcome and caught the bus into town.
Yacht Club Joinville.

Despite a plethora of powerboats the club made us very welcome.

  We explored the centre and visited a lovely art gallery.

Unusual cathedral in the midst of Joinville.

Stained glass windows in the cathedral

What a sight that must have been?

Cathedral roof visible above the city.

Art gallery in estate house Joinville.


Wine cellar gives history of the estate.

By now Pete had football fever, too, so we watched the playoff for third place and then stayed on in Joinville to watch the final in the comfort of the yacht clubs bar. Pete thought Germany might win, but I was all fired up over Argentina. We thought it safe t openly support Argentina, after all this is South America, but then Joinville has German roots, so we were the only people cheering for Argentina. And then the madness was over, for another four years.

Fiesta frenzy.

Dick Whittington?

We left Joinville an the Monday, setting off to explore areas of Babitonga Bay and then to return to Sao Francisco do Sul to clear out.

We anchored between Ihla Grande and Ilha Redondo for lunch.

Vila Gloria.

Our final stop was Vila Gloria, a small town across the bay from Sao Francisco. We packed a picnic lunch and went in search of a small waterfall. The walk was pleasant, but we had no idea how far the waterfall was. Pete almost trod on a small black snake, but I noticed in time. We reversed a bit and it hissed and slithered back the way it had come.

Germany's supporters in Vila Gloria?

 The Atlantic rainforest was dense on either side, once we’d cleared the town. We saw a sign for the cachoera, but couldn’t see a path. In the end we picnicked near a weir and asked a local farmer, who said the waterfall lay some distance ahead, so we retraced our steps and then found the slightly overgrown path down to the small waterfall, right below the sign!

The small cascade.

Such was our time in Santa Catarina State.

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