COLOMBIAN HANGOVER - Part Two

SetSail note: Last week we posted Part One of Lynne and Chris's encounter with pirates in Baranquilla, Colombia. They managed to escape and swim for help. The next morning, after the pirates had left, Lynne and Chris returned to the boat to survey the damage.

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...What we now know to be a large red wooden fishing boat had returned to collect the six bandits and all our belongings. They had collided hard with MALAIKA, hitting 1.5m above the waterline, bending the bull bar and stanchions 15cm on the starboard side, and leaving red paint and wood chips behind.

Our passports, boat papers, all our navigation equipment, the dinghy with two outboards, eight kites, and two sewing machines (for sail and kite repairs) were the biggest loss. Our boat was fully stocked for the Pacific crossing, from vacuum packed organic lentils down to toilet paper. Since it was all beautifully packed in large watertight containers, it made the transport of them so much easier.

At 10h00, we saw a large police presence on the beach. Chris swam ashore to speak to the police, re: red paint, wood chips, balaclava, knife and pair of sandals found on MALAIKA.

Edgar, the third person we'd met, was the owner of the windsurfing school housed in an unlocked A-Framed building on the beach. He arrived and, knowing that we were unable to leave without a GPS, offered to take us to Baranquilla to obtain one. We left Edgar's cell number with the lieutenant on the motorbike in case he needed to contact us, gave him the above mentioned items and headed to the city, in search of a GPS.

Edgar was tremendous! In 8 hours we managed to do the impossible. We changed the well stashed traveller's cheques without passports, bought a GPS, and established that the one and only red wooden fishing boat had a permanent mooring at Las Florres. An old man on the jetty told us that it had left for a fishing trip the night before and had not yet returned.

One last stop, before we can leave.The Coast Guard office. We wanted to inquire as to why we had no reaction from them after their initial response on the VHF. We also needed to purchase a chart of Cartegena, as all our charts, over 500, were taken by the bandits. We received zero help, zero sympathy. In fact, one woman in the office called us GRINGOS, turned her back and slammed the door. So we left without an answer and without a chart.

That's part one...I am reminded of a popular sign on garden gates - "Never mind the dog …beware the owner!!"

Then came the police….The major and his drug squad.

10 men, all armed, one with large pump action shotgun.
1 dog,
1 ultra sound machine
1 drill
1 tool box
1 pocket full of cocaine (Major's pocket)

At 18h00 on March 28, we returned from Baranquilla with newly acquired GPS, ready to set sail for Cartegena, only to discover the Major and two other policemen sitting in the cockpit, having boarded MALAIKA without permission. The Major claimed that they had already arrested four men. He brought out a digital camera and asked us to identify them. Two could have possibly been suspects, but it was very difficult to say from a photo. He proceeded to take photos of us and our vessel. When we requested to leave, we were told we would hamper the investigation. I expressed my fears about staying here on anchor for one more night, and was assured by the MAJOR that we would sleep with an armed guard that evening. With that play on words, all three of them laughed.

Then he made the first of three cell phone calls. With that, three other policemen and the dog arrived. The dog handler brought the dog to the Major, who shoved its nose in his pocket. One long sniff later, and the dog bolted to the bow, with the Major and his five officers in fast tow. On the bow we had placed a mat with Takoon's most recent bowel movement, retrieved from the beach, in the hope that she would now ablute on the boat. The police dog found that...and so did all the policemen, on their big black boots. There was a lot of shouting in the dark as to what the dog had discovered. QUE! MERDE! With that, the dog bolted back to the cockpit, found Takoons bowl, and devoured the rest of her food. QUE PASA!! WHAT'S GOING ON!!

It was now evident that this was not a routine investigation. I asked the Major his intentions. The major insisted that this was routine, and part of the investigation to retrieve our belongings. The major made two more phone calls, and with that, four more policemen with tools boarded MALAIKA.

Our vessel was subjected to a five hour strip and search, under false pretences. We assisted the police in every way possible. Chris helped the two guys inside, he elected to drill for them, and to strip what could come loose. I entertained the rest outside, serving bottomless cups of coffee, and telling sailing stories. The dog handler could speak a bit of English, and was constantly asked to translate, especially the punch lines. I had them rolling around in laughter, except for the Major. One by one his officers reported to him, "No, my Major, there are no drugs on this boat." By now, the Major's intentions were very clear to us, and I pointed out to him that if we were traffickers, we would have perhaps painted our boat navy grey, and not PURPLE, and that we would have owned a gun, with which we would have shot the bandits ourselves. Better still, one of his own officers pointed out that I have a beautiful collection of aloe vera, rosemary and basil, "She's growing her own herbs, mi major, this is not a trafficking boat."

The fear of him planting something on our boat was very real. He had put a lot of effort into finding drugs on our boat and we didn't know how he would handle the disappointment. That fear had an odor, and I broke out in a cold sweat.

At 23h30, the major stood up and said,"Vamos!" (Let's go!). So this was how he was going to handle the disappointment; he was going to abandon us. I begged him to keep his word, and leave a guard with us. He laughed and said that we were safe, as we had nothing left to steal. He told us not to leave, as an officer would return for Chris in the morning, to identify the so-called suspects.

The puzzle pieces started to fall into place - we had been "Double Whammed". Fear instantly changed to anger, and the Taurus in me took over. I grabbed the machete and stormed to the back of the boat. "Major Rodriquez!" I turned to the dog handler and said, "Make sure he understands this. I am writing a book, and he is in it!" The Major laughed and said to make sure I spelled his name right. So he left us in the dark. With no dinghy, no radios, and no way of locking the hatch.

A new fear, one that completely dispelled any fatigue I felt for lack of sleep in the last 50 hours, took over. My eyelids would not close. I was afraid to even blink, in case my eyes never opened again.

At 08h00 on March 29, one of the policemen from the night before returned for Chris and was humbly apologetic. He told us that the police here were bad, MALO! I still wielded my machete and would not allow him aboard. He was very understanding and stopped Chris from chastising me. He said it is important for me to release my energy. He took Chris to the same police station we visited for our statement. The journey took ten minutes. Chris was unable to identify the detained people as suspects, but was able to recognise one as a policemen from the 1st night on the beach. Chris returned with a bag of apples for me from the kind policeman, and the now confirmed knowledge that we had been set up.

At 14h00 we pulled anchor. Two fishing boats followed us out, inquiring how we could leave without a radio and navigational equipment. We told them that the Coast Guard were meeting us at sea and would escort us to Cartegena. They laughed and said, "The Coast Guard don't work this area!" They followed us closely, trying to come alongside, and asked to see the machete that I had threatened the police with the night before. I cracked the lid on the glass bottle of thinners, and lobbed it into the fishing boat, Chris lit the camp gas bottle, but they fall back before he got to throw it. They left us yelling obscenities.

Eighteen hours later we found a safe haven at Club Nautico. Chandelaria, the owner, gave us a free mooring, food and a sympathetic ear. Thank you seems so inadequate.

For more info on piracy, see SetSail's security links. For articles by other cruisers on how they deal with pircacy, click here.