French Polynesia is truly a special world or as the people say a world for itself that lives beyond everything we know. On the way out, every one 
of us had the opportunity to take with us a piece of her beauty and leave a part of ourselves on her beautiful islands. As Nuku Hiva slowly disappeared from the horizon, unlike the perpetual and aimless sailors, in the front of us on the navigation chart, the straight line stretched out leading us to Fakarava, one of the atolls in the Tuamotu Archipelago. Moderate 
waves, light wind, satisfactory speed and elegant connection of the ship with the sea, is the description of our four-day sailing to meet Tuamotus that offered us a new face and replaced the green volcanic islands of Marquesana with coral atolls of turquoise-blue colour.
According to ancient Polynesian myth, the Tuamotu Islands or “Sea Islands” were not created by the magic of Albus Dumbledore but by the influence of the God of the Sea who one day started a storm that forced parts of the earth to float out to surface. Atolls were formed on these pieces of land, made up of coral reefs around a small 
lagoon, making the Tuamotu Archipelago the largest group of coral islands in the world. Due to the dangers of sailing, which we were exposed to oncoming shoals and narrow passages, 
sailing Tuamotus, the so-called “dangerous archipelago”, for Peter and my self as well as for most sailors, were a real challenge and a fantastic experience.
Fakarava is one of the largest and most beautiful atolls in French Polynesia and if I play with words a little, I would describe it as a real fantasy of the South Pacific. We approached this idyllic dashed coral necklace with 
great interest, not taking our eyes off the bushes full of the green curls that peeked out over the water. The small cute islets that form a ring around the lagoon, we barely noticed. We crept into the atoll through the Passage Garuae, located on the north side of Fakarava, while the Tumakohua Pass, much more complicated, including a narrow underwater valley called “Shark’s Hole”, is located on the south side of the ridge.
So, at the very entrance, we were greeted by a large whirlpool, which my husband drew my attention to as I slowly collected the sails. Wow, I felt like a crew member of Captain Piplfox who had just discovered where the seven-headed monster was hiding. So far we have not had the opportunity to experience something so impressive and a little scary. With adrenaline at 220V, a 3D scene and a vivid imagination, I thought that, like a gramophone record, we could easily turn in
that vortex or to dance off an underwater waltz at King Triton’s court. Everything indicated that we did not have room to manoeuvre, considering the coral reef plantation that stretched around and below us, as well as the time to ask questions, because the next moment 
we were in its immediate vicinity. Believing in Meermowe and the correctness of what we do, we accelerated the engine so with great anticipation and wide open eyes crossed the vortex. “Well done, Captain Piplfox,” I said to my husband with a big smile.
Our final destination was the main village of the Tuamotu Archipelago, which we approached slowly and cautiously, adhering to the strict red security line on the I-Sailor that led us through the extreme shallows of the lagoon. We anchored at a depth of six meters near a 
small dock for supply ships and dinghy harbour. As soon as we dropped the anchor, we got the first visitors who came to us rowing on a paddle-boards then welcomed us with 
wide arms and a kind smile. It was a nice married couple who, like Gauguin, decided to leave Paris and come to live with two small daughters right here, in such a distant and lonely place. The free internet service is just one of the services they offered us in their home, and to the question: “What can be seen on 
Fakarava”, I received, as if fired from a cannon, a quick and spontaneous answer: “Nothing”. This, apparently short and empty word without taste 
and smell, automatically changed the flow of our thoughts and energy, and became a trigger for our curiosity and imminent going on shore. So let’s not waste time, let’s step together in this mission and “now or never” prove that “nothing” is “something”.
Fakarava is another paradise island. For Peter and my self one of Meermowe’s Great 
Adventure’s favourite destinations.It has a rough rectangular shape and a narrow mainland, which makes it an extremely interesting place where you can watch time pass, and listen to the sound of wind, waves and 
birds that reach from both sides of the coast at the same time. Unlike some atolls covered exclusively with coconut trees and endless white sandy beaches, here on the inner shore of the bay, a former volcano, the peaceful and picturesque town of Rotoava has developed.
At the pier, we were greeted by a three-member “rock band” who presented their latest album with a thunderous bark. We soon realised that our only way to tour the place was on foot, so like “the shoesy people”, we set off on the 
main road through the village. Nice houses, flower estates, a church built of coral and shells, the local town hall and the school as we passed by, helped us a lot to understand the meaning and 
simplicity of everyday life of the inhabitants of Fakarava. An incredible array of blue lagoons and white sand are something quite normal and common that can be found here, while the eaves covered with reeds provided a real Polynesian atmosphere. And so, in that relaxing atmosphere, we arrived at the home of our host friends where we booked bikes and spent the afternoon in pleasant company.
The next morning dawned in a phenomenal mood and preparation for new research. We were excited as if we were participating in the “Tour de France” bike race. With hats on our heads, some sandwiches, and a bottle of water in our 
backpack, we jumped into the dinghy and headed for shore. We left Rotoava in a southerly direction while our sympathetic “rockers” were still asleep. The sun was slowly rising on the horizon, and the weather promised a 
hot day and good fun. In front of us stretched a flat asphalt road which was later replaced by a dirt road leading to remote places of the atoll. There is almost no traffic on Fakaravi. By the end of the day we had met only two or three cars 
so we couldn’t tear off the impression that we had the road, along which were stretched unbridled coconut trees, just for ourselves. At about eight or a little more kilometres far from 
Rotoava, just before the asphalt finish, we decided to turn off the road. We didn’t want to risk to puncturing the tires, so we decided to get off the bikes and continue on foot. Our curiosity led us to the first bend in the shadow of which the winding path hided the quiet beauty of the bay that attracted us like a 
magnet. Although we were aware of the “harmless” reefs sharks, could easily fly into this episode and put the dot on “i”, it was impossible to 
resist the soothing sound of the ocean and the urge to get into the water. Without hesitation, we left our bikes and goods next to the only tree in the area and the next moment, we found ourselves in an embrace with a beautiful coral reef, around 
which a school of small rainbow-coloured fish were swimming hurriedly. We were simply captivated by the warm and clear water of the lagoon, the elegance of marine life and the field of colourful floral corals that covered the seabed. We didn’t know which way to look and swim away. It was a real adventure in the heart of Polynesian nature.
We left the bay again riding bicycles in the direction of Rotoava lively discussing the fairy tale of a fisherman and a goldfish. Rolling slowly 
next to each other, it was not difficult to conclude that the fish was saved by the Alexander Pushkin’s fountain pen, but the question was now, how we would behave with the shark if we had met 
him and what would we have offered him for a happy ending of this story? “Facebook page, sandwich and crate of beer,” was Peter’s response of the twenty-first century.
The change of weather in the afternoon brought us heavy clouds and the inevitable shower. The rain 
was pouring like a bucket. As my husband, being just like Jerry Mouse, tried in vain to pull himself under his tattered straw hat, drops were already passing through mine like through an old ceiling. We had nowhere to hide, and the village was still far away. Thunder and a flash of lightning not only accelerated pedalling, but raised the level of our adventurous spirit full of 
jokes and roaring laughter. As the saying goes, real luck on wheels. On the way back to Rotoava we stopped at our hosts, refreshed ourselves with a cold drink and continued on foot. It was still raining while the sun was shining on the other side of the village. Preoccupied with the story and looking at the 
road, which like a river was flowing under our feet, we didn’t even notice that we had stepped on dry even though the drizzle of the rain could still be heard. We turned and stared in confusion at the raindrops, and then, like children, stepped with one foot into the water that have made by real showers while the other was on dry. We stood like that for a moment inhaling the smell of wet, dry and warm asphalt. The house next to us was located literally in two climate zones. On one side bathed in rain while the other was illuminated by the sun. What a mix of madness, joy and pleasure with which time has simply flown by, even though we wished the day would 
never end. We arrived at the pier late in the afternoon when we sat in the dinghy half wet, left the pier and headed for Meermowe.
The quiet and warm night promised that we would not sleep in our bed so we welcomed the dawn in the cockpit. The beauties of South Fakarava and everything we experienced the previous day was just an added motivation for another bike ride on the other side of the Rotoava. The asphalt, and then the worn dirt road that we rolled comfortably through, led us north all the way to the top of the Garuae Passageway, through which we 
entered, discovering a slightly different and equally interesting character of that part of the Atoll. On that side of the ocean is a small airport and two historic lighthouses. Taputavaka, about a hundred-year-old stone structure in the shape of a Mayan pyramid, is one of the oldest lighthouses in 
French Polynesia and Topaka, somewhat younger, also in the shape of a pyramid about 15 meters high. Paradise beaches and beautiful sunset with a warm orange glow, simply 
radiated a relaxing atmosphere. Due to the very strong currents that prevail in this part of the atoll, we had to resist mother nature and give up from swimming so as not to “sail out” ahead of time. “If there is nirvana anywhere except in the Buddhist religion, then it is right here,” Peter and I agreed, returning to Rotoawa, which gave our visit to this atoll its epilogue.
We left Fakarava in the early morning hours and, for the umpteenth time, sailed across the open sea, which stretched in front of us like kilometres of railways and cheerful fields of sunflowers stretch in front of the train driver. Browsing through the impressions, we realised 
that this story, which you just read from the screen of your computers, has undoubtedly proved that “nothing” do not exists. And remember, looking at “something” means living again because that’s the only way you can feel the value of everything you’ve done.
Tuamotus is visibly different from the rest of French Polynesia and represents the essence of the Pacific islands. In this island group, there are also extremely fascinating, desolate, and coral-enclosed mainlands that completely envelop the ring of atolls, in 
whose lagoons it is impossible to enter. It is for this reason that stories circulate here about Robinson Crusoe as a novel that inspired the imagination not only of many sailors but also of ourselves.
Toau as the nearest mainland of Fakarava, is one of or even the only Atoll that has two passages and that: Pass Fakatahuna on the southeast ward categorised as real and Anse Amyot as wrong or false pass at the northern end, whose south side is blocked by a large coral reef and shallow waters so that there is no actual access to the 
lagoon. We decided to stop right there on Anse Amyot, a bay with a small anchorage like a dead end street with only a dozen yacht berths. When we arrived we found a sufficient number of free buoys that we tied up with a few more 
ARC fleet ships. The weather was beautiful while the clean and clear sea simply drew us to enjoy swimming and diving. The amazing palette of green, blue and turquoise tints of the water shone in the sun. I just wondered if I was dreaming as I watched the coral colours 
compete with the fish and the black stingrays moving slowly at the bottom of the sea in the echelon of five, just inches above the white sand. Without thinking about the dangers quietly lurking in such waters, I decided to accept the challenge of swimming 
from the boat to the sandy beach under the only possible condition, set to me by my husband, that he accompany me in the dinghy as security. A few hours later upon returning to the ship, my curiosity and bravery dropped into a minus to a state of iciness when I saw several large sharks licking their 
moustaches around Meermowe. “La commedia è finita”, until further notice, I was not allowed to mention the verb “swim”. We spent the evening on board with a delicious dinner that I prepared for all our friends from the fleet.
Toau Atoll is not a place for great gatherings of sailors, but there is something that makes it striking and that is the people in Anse Amyot or rather a large local family who welcomed us warmly and very friendly. During the 
short stays of boats in the bay, they often like to include cruisers in their daily life activities, especially fishing. The way our hosts catch fish is a real attraction. Namely, in the shallow waters inside the lagoon, traps were set up made of netting braided around bamboo sticks 
driven into the sandy bottom. The whole structure eventually narrows and has the shape of a large funnel. We couldn’t believe that fish could be so easily deceived and naively trapped. During the day, the trap is filled like a 
pomegranate so it simply seems that people can go to take their dinner every day as in a supermarket. The night before departure, our entire company was invited to a fishing dinner that our friends traditionally organise every year for the ARC crew, but this time the scenario was somewhat different. It all went in an unexpected direction when sharks stormed the scene and picked up all the catch. There is not a single tail left for us, let alone a fish. This exciting story ended with 
a showdown between our hosts and hungry predators, like in the movie “Gunfight at O.K. Corall”, in which sharks did not have time, nor theoretical chance to think about making a truce. Regardless of the circumstances in which 
we all found ourselves together, nothing could surprise our hosts, so that evening, instead of fish, our plates were decorated with beautifully prepared lobsters with very tasty side dishes. It was a fun night in very pleasant and amusing company with the natives of this part of the atoll.
Meeting families in Anse Amyot was not only a real treat but also a wonderful insight into the lives of people who live so differently from us. 
The next morning, one by one we had untied the ropes from the buoy and sailed with full sails on the course toward Tahiti.
“” What is this life without a home? “, one day Atanua asked her husband Oatea. He stood up, summoned divine forces, and said to his wife, “I will build our house tonight”. He placed two pillars in the chosen place and named them: “Ua Pou”. Than, he took the wooden beam, mounted it on two posts, tied with coconut fibre rope and said: “This is Hiva O’a”. Raising the porch, front and long beams all the way to the back stone slabs, it was created “Nuku Hiva”. “What will we cover the house with?” Atanua asked. “With coconut palms”, Oatea replied and he build roof of nine-parts, giving it the name “Fatu Hiva”. To make the job perfect Oatea dug a hole before sunset … “I see the picture bright and sparkling”, Atanua shouted, “It’s Tahuata”, and then added, “I hear the morning bird song”. “That’s Mohotani”, the husband replied. Oatea worked and didn’t stop. “I’ll collect the garbage and put it in the hole”, “It’s Ua Huka”. “Take care! Be careful! The land of the Men is bright”, exclaimed Atanua. “It’s Eiao”, Oatea replied firmly. ” ……… And so, little by little of this twisted story and the magical prophecies that flowed through the chapters of time, the legendary Marquesan family tree was created on whose branches Hiva O’a represents the main beam of the “Great House of Gods”, now known as ” Marquesas Garden ”. In this, as one of the most remote places in the world, as in the story of Snow White, there is twelve islands overall, like twelve dwarves, of which only six are inhabited.
That Hiva’O conquers not only by the sound of its name but also by the throaty roosters, we realized the next morning when “Pavarotti” woke us up with his penetrating kuku of soprano. It was still dark, and as soon as we were able to get to sleep on the carriage of happiness, his devastating vocals were heard, just like on Eurovision. He did not stop for an hour. And as I wondered, “why right now, and how does the rooster know when to sound,” a hell of a plan popped up in Peter’s head, how to silence the rooster in three strokes. With laughter and joke, it was clear to me that there was no more sleep, so I got up, made some coffee, and went out on deck to touch the world we had sailed into. 
Looking at this wild island with steep cliffs and high ridges covered with lush jungle, there was no doubt that on this “dragon island”, in whose forests could truly accommodate the enchanted world of Grimm Fairy Tales, we would start another unforgettable adventure that will remain in our long memory.
The sun was already rising a lot when we left the boat and drove to shore with dinghy. After 23 days of sailing it took us a while to get used to the land again because we were still under the impression of waves and rolling at sea. We stumbled like a drunken Tom as our ground swayed and eluded under our feet. As the heat became unbearable, it was quite normal for us to sit somewhere first and cool our brains in that burning kettle and then work out a plan for our stay. However, the environment we found ourselves in, unlike other places and ports we sailed into, was very empty. Apart from the cabin, where was settled down the ARC office, petrol station and tap with basin to handwash clothes, there was 
nothing else to notice. Roads and houses were rarely seen, while the villages seemed hidden. However, one of the roads stretched in the direction of the small town of Atuona, about five kilometers from the bay where we anchored, wereas the other, bit shorter, led up the hill to Hanakee Pearl Lodge. Two guidelines, two interesting stories. Which one to go? For starters, we liked the shorter version, just to see how to get to the finish line. It was clear to us that this time we will not even 
ride with a scooter, let alone a bus, so I cheerfully suggested we walk that few kilometers to the restaurant and then hopelessly added …… “maybe another time, I mean”. Peter would rather lie in the arms of Cori’s crocodile, than walk in such deadly heat. Shortly after, we returned to the ARC’s cabin, in which we called the hotel and ordered a “Jeep” to pick us up.
It was another crazy ride through a winding road in the “Flintstones” at an altitude of 1200 meters above sea level where the warm Polynesian welcome and incredible beauty of the island was become the epitomes that describes our visit. From the platform of the pool surrounded by flowers, with cold refreshment we were served and a view of the majestic mountain Temetiu, Bordelaisov channel and the small 
island Hanakee. Looking in the direction of the horizon, we fully enjoyed the fact that nothing can actually be prevented between the ocean and us. We walked the winding path and descended to the bungalows surrounded by slopes, steep cliffs and valleys full of bougainvillea, lilies and jasmine. Wherever we stopped, we felt some strange belonging to this distant world, which even the writer of “Moby 
Dick” believed had found a true paradise in this mysterious chain of islands in the South Pacific. The words were superfluous, so we stood silently admiring the natural spectacle, which Meermowe’s Great Adventure brought closer to some of Grandma’s good-night stories more than to reality that was only a mug of refreshing beer still reminded us of. It would hardly be, on that day, that we would have left this place if the 
twilight had not descended, and the sun had already hung on the harsh mountain peaks. It would hardly be, on that day, that we would have left this place if the twilight had not descended, and the sun had already hung on the harsh mountain peaks. We returned to the ship as after the pirate crusade of Jack Sparrow, with the feeling of the absolute masters of this island.
jargon of these wonderful people. Atuona is the main and largest village on the island where, at the same time, happens everything and nothing. With a smallish harbour it is located within the valley on the top of Taaoa Bay. Looking at the mountain massif that surrounded us, our instantly thinking was like we were somewhere in the Alps, while, after just a few minutes of staying on the island, we did not bathe in sweat. The next morning, our exploratory tour took us to visit his centre.
The town is famous for its Belgian singer Jacques Brel and also the French painter Paul Gauguin who, in search of new life values, left the old continent and renouncing of Europe, immerse into French Polynesia. Although Peter and I do not have great fondness for art, we did not miss the opportunity to take a look at the Paul Gauguin Museum to find out more about his life and work. Today everyone knows of this glorious painter and his inestimable deeds, so I have no intention of bothering you by analyzing his art creativity. Instead, here I would like to discover 
something interesting about the lesser known “Gauguin as a Man”, his view of the world, a very turbulent and a bit messy life from which to extract what seemed to me interesting, intriguing and adventurous, what corresponds to one such trip. Paul was a poor painter who barely made ends meet. In search of a simple and elementary life away from civilisation, where he could survive on fish and fruit, he 
arrived here in the Pacific, in the realm of peace and sun. In this primitive world, Gauguin or Koke, as the islanders called him, Hiva O’a made as his new “House of Pleasure,” known as “Maison du Plaisir”, where he had many evenings filled with music, drink and fun, spend with young women. It was not hard to notice that we have got another lover in Meermowe’s Great Adventuri. ” His most beautiful paintings are related to the bodies of young islanders, and when a girl first came to him, he would stall his hand under her clothes and exclaim, “I must paint you …” He 
had several women and many children, while unproven doubts also point to the hidden passion of a Polynesian seducer, towards men. Fantasy or reality, I do not know, but there is no doubt that Gauguin in this case would outperform Simon Bolivar and Pablo Escobar together. In the last years of his life, the main inspiration for many paintings was the 13-year-old wife of Tehaamana, for 
whose family it was a great honour to marry a white man. I have to admit that art is really strange in her creation, haven’t it! Gauguin died in the terrible torment of heart disease, tuberculosis and syphilis, like a true don juan, just as he says in his book “Before and After”, “run, run, until you run out of breath and die crazy! … Prudence … how are you infinitely boring to me! “. And lastly, I wonder if Gauguin ever managed to satisfy 
his restless spirit and truly find what he had always been looking for? Nothing less interesting has been at the Cultural Centre-Hangar “Jacques Brel”, located just across the street from the Gauguin Museum. In it, apart from the posters and lyrics of songs, it was exposed to “Jojo”, two-engine aircraft with which he transported the local population to Tahiti. Both artists 
are buried in their Polynesian paradise, Calvaire Cemetery, the last resting place of locals and former missionaries. Their tombs are located just a metre away from each other with an eternal panoramic view, in which are still under the Marquesane palm trees can see the Gauguen’s colours and hear the poetry of Brel’s.
Atuona is a really small town, consisting of only a few streets, a post office, a bank and two shops. My favourite saying is, main street and two traffic lights. During the Festival of the Arts, dances and other 
festive activities are performed at Tohua Pepe, in the heart of the village. In one of the side streets is a Catholic Church. With its color and simplicity reminiscent of Mexican, so we decided 
to enter and look at the elegant architecture of its interior. Just behind the church is the Saint Anne School, whose courtyard is adorned with a large green tree canopy. It was a little lacking not to divot into that thick shade and stay there for the rest of our lives. What a heat! We felt like we were in a pressure cooker and close to whistling. Obviously it was time to go back, but instead of returning on 
board, we decided to spend the last afternoon of our stay at Hiva O’a, splashing in the Hanakee Lodge pool, where we enjoyed the kindness of our hosts and once again breathed all that beauty that surrounded us. Satisfied and saddened at the same time, we returned to the ship. After dinner, we stayed for a while to sit in the cockpit, 
and with warm coffee we happily discussed another wonderful experience and impressions that we will bring with us. It was already dark when we turned off the lights and being tired went to sleep. The next morning was in the sign of preparations for departure. And imagine, not a single rooster sounded at dawn, maybe someday I’ll tell you why !!!!
French Polynesia began to conquer us as we conquered its islands. We left Hiva O’a with full sails, crossing over 2.5 miles of the wide Bordelais Canal, called Haʻava in Marquesan word. The course led us in the direction of the smallest island of the archipelago, Tahuata, which was literally across from us. It was the beginning of the free style cruise to Tahiti and Raiatea. The day was ideal. We sailed along the west coast of the island enjoying the view of the steep cliffs covered with coconut palms and the beauty of nature that hiding in the shadow of Mt Tumu Meae 
Ufa. “Sunrise” is the meaning of the name of this beautiful island, about 15 nautical miles fare from Hiva O’a, known for making fragrant oil called Mono ‘ i, which is made from coconut oil and hand-picked tiara flower buds. In less than two hours, we sailed into 
Vaitahu Bay, where we anchored and joined a few boats from our group. The island is a true haven of peace with beautiful beaches covered with white sand. In this dormant paradise without road, villages, cell phones and the net, the writer could complete the 
novel, and the romantic endlessly fantasize. Peter and I felt very fortunate to have a boat and therefore the opportunity to be right here. I couldn’t resist, I grabbed my bathing suit and swam ashore while my husband stayed on the boat to rearrange the ropes, and then he 
joined me. This time we did not have time to explore the island and its attractions, so we used our very short stay for maximum enjoyment of walking and playing on the beach, and a quiet anchorage, like real sailors, for cleaning dirt along the waterline of the ship.
Our exotic adventure continued a hundred miles northwest of Tahuata Island, according to one more source of rich Polynesian culture and the largest island of Marquesana, Nuku Hiva. In mythology, it represents the frame top of the “Great House of Gods.” The final point of the voyage was the capital of the archipelago, Taioha’e where, according to the program, all ships of the ARC regatta were to 
sail in. The trip was very enjoyable. During the night the wind weakened and slowed our progress, which did not worry us as we had enough time to reach our destination. The bay that we anchored into in the early hours of the morning are the remnants of a volcano crater whose peaks and slopes overgrown with mimosa trees and other exotic herbs just blend in with the Pacific Ocean. In a word, a great and very well protected anchorage. With an extraordinary mood, we 
quickly tidee the boat, jumped into a dinghy and headed towards dinghy pier, from which iron ladders were raised up the wall. It was all reminiscent of Shakespeare’s love romance, through whichever my husband, like Romeo, was to climb the rusty stairs instead of green branched ivy. In that idyllic 
ecstasy, he missed the most important scene, the meeting with Julia because he arrived at the dock before me. “Typical of the Romantics of the twenty-first century”, I commented and sighed, “O Romeo, Romeo”. On the wharf was dominated by the usual vibrancy that every year, not just to this island, brought by the ARC fleet. Delicious morning coffee, free internet and a wonderful environment, who could ask for more the day after sailing.
Taioha’e is a very nice and quiet town situated at the foot of the high mountains. With a distinct French ambience, it elegantly stretches along the sunny coast in the form of a crescent moon. A friendly population, diverse landscapes and tropical flowers that bloom everywhere, describes it. The city center was easy to explore on foot because everything was 
at your fingertips, bank, post office, shops and art centres. For this reason we wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid the killer heat so we first went to the market, just opposite the pier, which except Sunday opens every day at six o’clock in the morning and closes around three in the afternoon. Most people in the marketplace sold a variety of fruits and vegetables 
that are grown in their backyards. Everything was found there ranging from vanilla, ginger and mango to different flower bushes. The largest collections of craft products made of wood and stone among the islands of Marquesane are located right here on 
the Nuku Hivi, where pieces of sandalwood, rosewood and volcanic rock are transformed into real artwork. Polymeric fabric with a lot of floral décor for making sarongs, 
dresses and curtains, was also part of the colorful town offer. At every step we met groups of women in making traditional baskets and bowls from palm leaf and coconut, which, among other things, are used for serving meals. The smells of tuna with coconut milk, wild boar boiled in a 
Polynesian oven and other grilled dishes, not only intoxicating but also aroused vibrations in the stomach and in the full sense of the word painted the market as it really should be.
realized that Taioha’e is a city of interesting stories. Toward one such story, we already set off the next moment. Namely, in the Valley of the Teau, at a distance of fifteen minutes of walking from the market, is the Cathedral of Notre Dame. It was erected in the sacred place of ancient Marqueans and built of wood and stones brought from the six inhabited islands of the archipelago. This fairytale structure consists of two bell towers connected by a wall that is used as 
part of the entrance to the cathedral, inside which there are several beautiful wooden carvings with religious themes. The morning services are held only on Sundays with harmonious music and thundering singing that can be heard all the way to the waterfront. Unfortunately, it was Friday so we 
were forced to leave this rare beautiful experience behind us
canopy of trees, from the sea. The waterfront and its black beaches are the perfect place to enjoy the view of the bay and the sunset. In the center is Temehea Tohua, home of the ancestor of Queen Vaekehu 
who was considered to be Taioha’s last ruler. By marrying another chieftain, she was able to reunite an once divided tribe. Tohua was a large rectangular platform surrounded by plateaus used for ceremonies and meetings. The place abounds with several Tiki statues full of fascinating details, 
big eyes and elongated heads with a mixture of small and enormous bodies. It could say they looked like aliens. Looking at such distorted statues, we wondered what the artists of that time wanted to portray?
Another interesting story twelve meters high that brings together the history of Nuku Hiva. It used to be the meeting place of local tribes. In the early 19th century, in the unsuccessful conquest of the South Pacific Empire, the Americans built a small fortress, “Fort Madison,” which was taken over by the French in the mid-century and changed its name to “Fort Collett.” The place was abandoned at the end of the century and left to Tuhiva, the patron of sailors, to welcome them from distant journeys and protects in the Polynesian waters.
express their identity and belonging to these islands through a tattoo which, apart from its mythological meaning, has an aesthetic value and sex appeal. The word “tattoo” was first used by Captain James Cook and was fascinated by it. At that time, the tattoo was performed using a coed animal bone that pushed ink under the skin, and outlined different figures on the buttocks, thighs, and back with thin lines. Today, men and women paint their bodies from head to toe and I strongly believe that most of the tattooed designs are mapped from the parts of the Tiki. By returning to the pier, we have completed our tour of the city, only thing left was to land in the dingy and get on the boat. We spent the rest of the day in a very pleasant atmosphere studying the nautical map of Polynesia and the weather conditions.
when heavy rain it simply coming down on us. In vain we tried to take shelter in a cafe full of people. It seemed like it was going to be raining forever, so we decided to go back to the pile of groceries that remained lying near the ladders. Actually, we did not care any more cause we were soaked to bare skin. The clothes on us had stuck to us like foil around sandwiches, and we looked like soggy rats. We were no longer sure, whether tears ran down our faces of laughter or drops of rain. Anyway, Peter climbed down to the dingy, while I had handed him down the bags of food with a rope. What are Romeo and Juliet in comparison 
with this our romance, I believe we overshadowed Shakespeare and branched ivy. Swamped with things with the loud laughter and the sound of the little motor, we defied the raindrops and slowly approached Meermowe.
The usual meeting of all participants of the regatta and ARC was scheduled that afternoon at about five o’clock in the Great Hall where we were introduced to the map and all the details regarding our further 
journey to Tahiti. A festive dinner with several types of Polynesian dishes and traditional dances were part of the rich organization of our hosts.
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thousand miles long, with which I want to honour all our dear and faithful followers as well as those who have decided it to become. Our longest landless trip was often the topic of our thinking and conversation even at the time of the start of Meermow’s Great Adventure. It was the time, when we celebrated the first thirty miles, successfully crossed on the Adriatic and felt like we have passed, nothing less or more, than The Cape of Good Hope. For that reason, the journey from Galapagos to French Polynesia, that moment in our eyes and above all the happy world, was inconceivable. Our brain was too small to figure this impressive number to understand differently than an ordinary number with a lot of zeros. In spite of everything, there was not a moment to worry about this complex mathematical function with the many unknowns that we should face in the foreseeable future. We simply surrendered to the maritime temptation and enjoyment while the answers and solutions, during navigation came alone. We were sure that, up to French Polynesia, we would be physically and mentally ready, to overcome any situation and weather conditions in the 23 days period. So let’s do this together and beat the challenge of this longest trip that might take you to the land of your dreams, because in the end this is your adventure.
We left the Galapagos with full sails sometime before lunch. The sailboats were slowly moving away from each other and disappeared into the horizon. The day was sunny, warm and ideal for sailing. Using the stern-side wind, the course led us to the southwest. In anticipation of his amplification, we collected the bimini that it would not break down, looking for pleasure and sun protection in the shaded shade below the solar panels, what that turned into a funny and fun game. In the end, winning over such a nice and rare oasis in the cockpit ended up under umbrella. Irresistible burgers, whose fragrances spread out of the kitchen, soon they smiled to us from the tray speaking in all languages about enjoying each segment of our journey. In that warm and positive atmosphere, we have soon become solo players in the sea spaciousness. We really loved the way Meermowe has been crossed miles, 
opposing the waves as well as gusts of about 20 knots. At that moment, we even did not dream the weather is going to play with us that afternoon about five o’clock, and definitely slow our progress. Unstable wind was “so strong” that pointer of the wind spun around in all directions, while the Genoa was helplessly hanging on the bow as a patch. There was no choice, we have collected the sails, start the engine and moved on, sailing into dusk and beautiful sunset. That night, my husband started the night shift, while I was unsuccessfully trying to get some sleep. Preparing for sleep on board, especially in navigation, is a very simple process. Instead of being in bed, you sleep on sofas in the saloon. There are no getting dressed in pyjamas because you have to be ready for an emergency popping into the cockpit. Your brain is in constant motion with one eye open. Teeth are only washed for health reasons, and when you finally catch on with 
the horizontal position on how to not lose any minute from well-deserved rest, for your ears it is going to paste small night music of the ship engine. To try to fall asleep is hard but achievable, if nothing else, then with the old and proven technique of counting sheep. At the end of all, you sadly realise that your time has expired and the sheep flock left uncounted. If I had not stood up to replace Peter, Meermowe would be converted to Noah’s Ark. The night went smoothly and without problems. Early in the morning we got some wind off of 5.5 knots, so I widened the sails and turned off the engine. The speed with which we moved was automatically dropped to 2.5 and promised that we would reach the Marquesas Archipelago by the end of the year and if we managed to reach 4 knots, we could be straight to Nicky Lauder, Formula One driver. It was true that we were expecting this kind of slack on this section of the journey but not so fast, 
just a few hours after departure. Motoring or not, was a question in which even Hamlet would not be able to answer, because the length of the trip that was standing in front of us, had warned that we must take account of the fuel consumption. We did not want to risk it, so we decided to wait for the wind. It was an interesting start and a new experience that we did not have the chance to experience in the Atlantic. According to the weather reports, which did come by mail through Iridium, it all seemed that we had to sail even more south than we planned, to reach the area of the winds. Weather conditions in the first few days of our longest trip without the land, did not differ much. The weak winds that had periodically appeared were real joy. We did not have a spinnaker so we played with sails, tangoon and 
boom. We have tightened and release them to catch at least a little wind. The speedometer still did not cross three knots, which confirmed Galileo’s theory of moving. We were slowly advancing in the slow-motion version as the worm in the cabbage, while we did not, in the early afternoon, like Cinderella after midnight, turning again into captives of absolute quietness.
My husband and I, we functioned very well in that uncertainty, which has to, far from the real world we got used to, could extend on through all week and turn it into a real agony. Aware of the situation, we left to the maximum enjoyment of the natural environment in which we found ourselves, as well as to everything that came to our minds, to preserve the power of spirit and good mood. From the stage of the largest water theatre in the world, dolphins and sea lions with their spectacular acrobatics and 
lazy stretching on the sea surface, were entertaining us. While albatrosses and flying fish stayed true to themselves and their roles in a closed circuit pursuer and fugitive, the night premiere of luminous planktons, were performed under the cover of darkness with a playful pearl shimmering. It was a real paradise for the eyes with which we loaded our batteries. To Peter’s pleasure, I used up the time of deadness for culinary delights, so I had filled out tropical nights by romantic dinners served with candles and good wine, what has been in other circumstances unimaginable. With our many daily obligations on the boat, we used our down time to play with the interesting contents of 
our “maritime chest”. Movies, music, games, all of which were located in this rich treasury of entertainment, from which we could learn a lot. The real fun for us was the discovery of the life motto of the ancient people of the lost city of Timgad. “Hunting, swimming, playing and laughing, that’s the life,” it was carved into its walls. To this thought, we could identify ourselves and I could add “… and sailing on our own boat with two rudder wheels, …”. Do you also believe that there was some secret relationship between us, at the moment when we raised the anchor of Meermowe’s Great Adventure? So, slowly moving and floating like a small plastic boat in the well, 
Meermowe was, with the fascinating sunsets, calmly but safely from night to night sinking into darkness where his position lights, like a deserted island, were the only lanterns of life.
“tomorrow we turn on the engine”. Great, just what we needed, at the right time and in the right place, because when the skin begins to be itchy it is time for action and adventure. The journey continued in a brilliant mood, by the sign of bananas, which at their fingertips were hanging in the cockpit as well as both donkey’s and bird’s noise of our sweet and cuddly crew, Dino and Pipo. Even the engine noise was no longer registered, we sailed, and that was the most important moment at that time. During the night, six beautiful white albatrosses landed on the deck to rest and 
gather strength how, in the early morning they would continue far on. Looking at them, I remembered of Dalmatia and Split. For the time of south winds, when the seagulls got together in parks, on the waterfront promenade or anywhere along the seashore, old Dalmatian fishermen would know to say “storm is coming”. Just because of that sensible instinct they possess, I thought that our dear friends were just a warning on the weather changes that will soon change our rhythm. It’s amazing how much I was right. However, there was no south wind, but to our great surprise that morning, into our story has entered the storm wind of 15 knots. We turned off the engine and spread the sails. At speed 7 we were back in shape. What a pleasure! We finally got what every sailor dreams of. We took advantage of the situation to throw nylon and try fishing. We proudly supported Meermowe, celebrate every passing mile and have only one wish, only to last. But still…… it was all pointed to the opposite. The wind had become unstable and although it seemed to have the strength of 6 knots, we did not have any use of it. Sails were totally exhaled, while baits for fish became plain metal lures. We entered into the area of strong currents. Velocity of movement was 0.1. The pointer on the wind gauge had begun to wildly turn around. Because of the low speed, the rudder canceled the obedience so we started to swing and turn around in all directions. Meermowe stood in place. We decided to collect the sails and the baits and re-start the engine only for one hour and see if anything will change. And indeed, it had changed but in the wrong direction. Just when it should not, appearing to be of some trouble. Balancing at the deck as he removed the tangoon from the genoa, Peter stepped on one of the windows and unfortunately broke it. Seeing what 
had happened, I immediately went down under the deck to put two thicker trash bags on the window cover, as the dark clouds were just over us. Seconds were in question because rain had already started to fall. Weepeee, we stayed dry. Otherwise we could safely sing my favorite song by B.J.Thomas, “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”. We turned on automatic pilot and like Rocco and Cicibela, we had shrunk under the bimini, deeper into the cockpit. No matter what my husband treats rain as an ideal sleep time, she is, in fact, very romantic and mystical. Some people do not like rain as my dad did not like, but anyhow, I believe that many of you, at least one, had enjoyed the rainy atmsphere of staying on the beach, fishing, or walking along the coast of the sea because when it rains, nature and all that surrounds you, even the umbrella you hold in your hand, takes on one a new and indescribable shape. Sun and showers, in which we sailed, periodically have alternated until finally, in the afternoon, did not stay behind us and together with the wind that completely disappeared. It was a very interesting shower therapy. The needle on the fuel gauge showed that ¼ of diesel had 
already been spent. Using the slack, with the first reserves of diesel we replenished the tank, while we were still motoring because it was very likely that we will not pass without at least another fierce storm. Charting position on the nautical chart, we immediately concluded that we are in the area of increased magnetic disparities with a large deviation of the magnetic compass from the GPS. For this reason, the direction that led us in the hunt on more stable winds of 11 to 18 knots, as on the well-hidden truffles, were determined according to the GPS. Contrarily, the course of the magnetic compass, would take us on even hundreds of miles more south of the final destination. Official communication during the navigation was carried out regularly via SSB. During the morning and evening we had to report on the position of each ship in the fleet, the general condition of the crew and any problems on board. In the end, everything pointed to the fact that we should, as a whipped cream on the 
cake at the Island of Hiva O’a arrive last, which did not bother us at all. With a pleasantly spent evening still one more very warm and muggy day has come to an end. Yes, exactly, came to an end, but did not finish, because the new storm in which we sailed in during the night on the transition from the sixth to the seventh parallel, checkmated us in three moves. While the rain was falling mercilessly, terrifying sound of thundering and lightning echoed in the night ripping the sky. It was one weird mixture of fear and comfort, pleasure, and discomfort, and a conflict of belief and persuasion that the rain is right idyll or at least one of its versions. Anyway, we got out of the storm and by full lungs continued further with the wind reaching up to 18 knots. Life under sails has become, in some way, our philosophy of life and total enjoyment so even in extreme conditions.
To our great surprise, that was the most challenging and craziest season ever. Regardless of the countless unsuccessful attempts which we did have, two beautiful Swordfish, caught on one stick; the collision of the “back to back” with Peter in the simultaneous struggle with the unknown monsters and two nylons as well the huge Merlyn, whose head had described the fish over one hundred kilos, certainly they have become part of our most exciting stories from the depths of the sea. That illusion is not only part of the magician’s performance, has confirmed and “Hoodoo Gile”, a bird 
Cormorant, our legendary hero who, in search for lunch was caught on the hook. Whoops, what a trouble!!! And so, miserable Gile was jumping and snorkeling through the waves without his bottle and flippers, until we pulled him out. Broken in pain, with a saucer eyes like on a bingo machine and scattered feathers that it hopelessly hung over his head, was looking as if he had just come down from a roller coaster. When he regained consciousness, we returned him to the sea and watched for some time, until he had dived into the water again. He probably remembered that half an hour ago he looked for lunch.
Travels the open seas are a challenge for every sailor. They are unpredictable and full of proving of themselves, its limits and possibilities. Not only change life’s habits, but our thinking and view of the world that surrounds us. New experiences overshadow the old, complicated becomes easy, and impossible turns into possible. Everything that is done on board, adapts to current conditions and performs in the 
best possible way, making this adventure a really interesting and special one. In this boundless freedom of spirit and movement, we have not chosen resources to achieve the goal. Seawater has been used for everything except for drinking and cooking. Those days, for the first time in my life, I washed the merchandise in the seawater and so to ourselves, we had smelt like salty sardines and a good wine.
Our time has passed relatively fast. Every moment on board represented a touch of all elements of nature. Mornings we were found on the deck many small squids and flying fish, which waves had thrown out onto our platform during the night, leaving them powerless to return to the sea. In the company of a book and a refreshing drink, we simply left ourselves to the silence and enjoyment of the sailing. Soon we changed time zones, so our days were getting shorter and nights becoming longer. 
Night’s duties were extended endlessly and had finished with toothpicks in our eyes. With the passing of the 112 meridians, we were approaching halfway up to French Polynesia. Life on the boat was running normally and under control until light rain had begun. A new cycle of the weather change it once more played with us emphasizing its absolute supremacy. We were again exposed to a strong blow of wind and waves, which were sudden and rapidly rotating the bow of the ship to the left, pushing the wind-pilot outside of its course. At that moment we got acceleration. The speedometer calculator climbed to 10 knots. Meermowe seemed to have got her wings. Honestly, it did not last long, but experience told us that we have to intervene, calm our passions 
and shorten sails. Before sunset, the rain stopped and we, lonely in the blue of the ocean, continued our journey with the stern winds and low rays of the sun, in which they had passed through the edge of lead-grey horizon.
The first half of the trip was over in the morning hours of the following day, which was certainly the reason for the celebration. With a tiramisu cake and a wonderful smell of coffee, we threw a bottle with a message in the sea and sailed into the third week of our longest journey without land. While are the back wind, pleasant weather and constant progress had become the sequence of our daily lives, the storms seemed as if they had rested somewhere far away from us.It was like we sailed downhill through this part of the route and that miles were passing much faster. 
“In case it will continue on this way, at Marquesas Archipelago we could arrive in just over a week,” Peter shouted out from the saloon after marking the position. It sounded fantastic, like we were in front of the door, so we did not hide excitement and joy. In the soul, we lived with the sea, with the sails and for sails. Frequent visits from the dolphins and the whales were right refreshment, while fishing was a pure dream and empty story. Any attempt to catch something, was a failure, as in the knights’ tournament “Sinjska Alka” when it spears hits “into nothing”.It was possible to catch the old discarded container before the fish. Despite of everything, the nylons had been cast into the sea every day with the hope that we will by the end of it realize our 
dream of catching a hundred kilos of heavy tuna. And so, by crossing the 124th meridians, we were closer to the final line and the “madness”, which came to us three days before the arrival at French Polynesia. A new announcement of strong winds of up to 35 knots in the “H” section, through which we sailed, it did not make us so excited as that penetrating sound of nylon. In the visit to us she had arrived, neither more nor less than our dear guest, tuna.
This dramatic story had begun in a very ordinary morning, during the breakfast. Finally, the eagerly awaited and well-known sound that has, like the thundering from a clear sky, simply passed through the air, ripping our ears. Pushing the coffee away from himself, Peter immediately jumped up, grabbed the fishing stick and pulled it through the bracket of the solar panels to stop the crazy unwinding nylon. We were expecting a loss of the hook and bait again, what in the fight with the monsters, often happens. Like us, you would not believe, the reel had stopped at the very end. At first glance it all did stop, we almost thought that beauty of the beast, had run away. A few seconds we were puzzled over and staring into the distance, then it came to the general clutter. According to the behavior and the resistance, which the fish provided, we figured she was heavier and well-hooked tuna with which we will not be so easy to handle. That raw power from the ruler of the depth had raised our adrenaline to the extreme exhaustion. The battle lasted for two and a half hours, after which the muscles of our handshadtrembled from tiredness. Finally, as the half dead from exhaustion, on the reach of hand, the tuna was lying motionless on the surface of the sea. It was too shocking to look at her, she had over a hundred kilos. We managed to drag her up to the first stair and then it had followed by a second juice. Convincingly reflecting his helplessness, at one point with the last forces, tuna had strongly winced and broke the nylon. Holding an empty fishing stick in the hands, we could not believe 
it with our eyes. For a few seconds she still lay so motionless, while we had slowly moved away from her and then tuna disappeared into the depths. Peter was just about to jump for her. Painfully, we looked at each other and laughed. Damn, at same time we were so close and so far away. Actually, we wanted to take a picture with such a huge and heavy fish then return her back to the sea. In the case as she knew it, who 
knows, maybe her mind would have changed. An hour later, we caught blue tuna, weighing in at 15.5 kilograms, and a day before arriving at our destination, into the freezer we hosted a very tasty Wahoo fish and so had forgotten abot our great failure.
twenty-third day of the trip, four hours before reaching the port we saw the first outlines of the mainland. As the dusk slowly descended, birds were circling above us as if they were welcoming us. It was wonderful to watch them being so overwhelming in their peaceful and safe flight. That I know all the languages of the world, believe me, I would not be able to describe the happiness and 
pride, with which we were fulfilled getting nearer to the finishing line. Into the Bay of Atuona, on the authentic island of the Marquesas archipelago, Hiva O’a, we sailed in at the evening where we joined our fleet. At the Taha Uku anchorage, under a starry sky of French Polynesia, that moment had been thrown and last anchor of the ARC fleet.
The story has come to an end, and whether the end is really a new beginning or a simple ending, you will tell me that in the next adventure.
Isabella is the largest island of Galapagos and one of the pearls of the Archipelago. It is easily recognized because its shape resembles a sea horse. At a distance of over a hundred miles, we sailed for a day in a very pleasant atmosphere, talking as well as joking about the unusual stories we picked up at San Cristobal. The most interesting one was about “Lonely George”, who was formerly the oldest gigantic turtle. He was the last remaining male of that particular kind, whom had the scientists 
harshly forced sex to extend its species. According to their opinion, George was at the very peak of sexual power but unfortunately did not show interest in fatherhood, so it remained the only hope that George would have is that maybe one day he would become a middle-aged father. He lived on the island of Pinta and as the most lonely animal on the planet, has received well-deserved place in the Guinness Book of World Records. He was later transferred to Santa Cruz Island, where he died at the Breeding Centre. “If I were to have a sexual rise whilst being one hundred years old like George, I would also not bother myself with fatherhood”, was Peter’s comment “even more, I would open a harem and live in 
it as a Sultan”, he added with a big smile. Poor George, he was killed by sex in the best of years. If it weren’t like that, maybe he would live several decades longer. The night was beautiful, romantic and full of enjoyment, which Peter accepted with great caution in regards of George’s experience.
On the anchorage of the small fishing village Puerto Villamil, we have sailed in about five that afternoon. At the entrance, we noticed that the bay is calm and protected as well as filled with underwater reefs and shallows. By the “Embarcadero” dock and the small club “Nautico” we could have come with dinghy, but we used taxi services to avoid complications 
through a very demanding rocky maze. “Why complicated when it can be easily”, was our moto, so we have elegantly disembarked on the pier and walked lightly towards the city. Puerto Villamil is situated in the middle of idyllic sandy beaches stretching along the coastline. 
In one of a series of affordable restaurants, we picked up some information about the city itself. The first thing we discovered in its immediate vicinity it was a park with local brackish water and flamengos in its, called 
“Flamenco Park”. Looking at the exquisite pink coloured feathers of these exceptionally beautiful birds belonging to the swamp was like looking at paradise. These creatures are interesting as well as shy in nature therefore we were able 
to watch and photograph them only with distance. Due to the short stay, the mega prices and sweltering temperature in the air, we did not explored Isabela as we had 
imagined. Disastrous heat closed our doors before we went on the six-mile wide crater of Sierra Negra, the most active volcano in the Galapagos. It was a hot story without any sense that turned 
into Hamlet’s question “do it or not”. You believe me, it was not hard to find the answer in the pleasant shade of the restaurant, enjoying the cold beer, 
laughter, and fun. In the end, it was supposed to be experienced. After a very pleasant evening, we started preparing 
for the continuation of the journey and meeting with new beauties and excitement. Leaving Puerto Villamil in the foam furrow of Meermowe, we left Isabela in the direction of Santa Cruz Island, located in the center of the archipelago.
We anchored in a fully open bay, in front of the capital of the Galapagos, Puerto Ayora. Swaying on the waves, we found our own place between excursion boats and the other modern wanderers under sails. We were excited because we knew we would soon leave this unique natural park in the world and start with the longest voyage without land up to French Polynesia. The life on Galapagos, after Islands of Cristobal and Isabela, became somewhat a routine, so we did not 
waste time to ordering taxi to drive to the city. Under the equatorial sun, on the dock well-known representatives of the animal world, sea lions and iguanas greeted us. Puerto Ayora is extremely neat and a very pleasant 
place. In the harbor and on the waterfront it ruled a real life, which is not uncommon for small coastal towns. Trade on the street takes place at a temperature of more than 40 
degrees. Air conditioners are seen only in dreams, and the prices are not at all shy. Fish was in abundant and is very cheap. The only ones, which have been ok with everything in this surounding, 
were the pelicans. They are well intentioned and remarkably agree with the fishermen. 
We walked around and found fewer grocery stores and fruit market, where we the day before departure, made a small shopping. I did not miss a 
opportunity to shorten my hair at the first hairdressing salon we’ve had on the way. Numerous Italian restaurants were a real surprise for us. In any case, we 
stopped in one of them before returning to the ship. Unlike expensive wines, the beer had been poor quality therefore we have, with a fruit cocktail, ended up the evening. The favorite Nachos dinner, prepared on board, was more than 
hit. The Mexican crackers with which 
we pleasantly chated about further navigation, spoke seven languages. Until we went to sleep we studied maritime charts, satellite navigation, weather conditions, as well as made strategy and organization of further trip. As usual, 
Dino and Pipo helped us in it. Meermowe was in the top form for the fierce rhythm of sailing. “Only that we are still missing is the fruit market on Saturday and we can go”, was the conclusion with which we happily agreed and gone to bed. How is Academy Bay was full of hammerhead sharks, by no means we did not think 
about swimming, so the last day in Santa Cruz were dedicated to Tortuga Lagoon. The morning was full of big excitement, hurry, and extraordinary mood. Dino and Pipo who decided to come with us, they had contributed of that sympathetic hurryness.
This bay, due to its beauty, is one of the most famous on Santa Cruz. It is about a forty-five minute walk from the city center. The winding stony path surrounded with cactuses, palo santo and matasarno trees, led us to the spacious coast, which is elegantly drowned in the Pacific Ocean. It was hot and windless, like in an oven set at 350 degrees without a fan. While we 
chilled ourselves with water from the bottle, how we would not melt like ice cream, Dino and Pipo were deeply submerged into the shade of the backpack. At the end, the 
painstaking walking was rewarded. In the front of us there was stretches of spectacular white sandy beach with the beautiful iguanas, as our dear friends called them “angry beasts” of which they 
were scared. Full of the fearness, they fell to the bottom of the bag as a lego dice. It took us the whole eternity to emerge them out. With a bit of 
persuasion, by the end of the day, they even became friends with these sweet “negro candies” so we even managed to make some happy photos. The Playa Mansi, with one part being describe as having strong currents and the kick of powerful waves over the sandy dunes whose noise was 
spreading along the beach like an echo. The second part is in a very quiet and protected lagoon, where we swam, while are Dino and Pipo enjoyed in climbing on 
the tree branches. As the old song says, “Everything is coming to the end, one day “, therefore also this one full of laughs and fun finished faster than we 
wanted. We arrived back to the boat in the early evening. With the sunset, we enjoyed and went to sleep, somewhat earlier. The Saturday’s open-air market, opens early in the morning, at five 
o’clock, while already at six, with my friends from the group, I have been on the streets of Puerto Ayora. The main 
trading place is located on the way to the airport and is something further from the port, therefore we watched with delight as the city wakes up. Some of the products that we found at the stalls were bred locally while most of them are brought by boat from the mainland. The prices were a bit high, 
but unfortunatelly we did not have a big choice. That Peter was with us, he would simply enjoy chatting and joking with these wonderful traders, and particularly those of female’s gender. I’m sure with his exquisite charm it could have filled our bags with fruit and vegetables at cheaper prices. We definitely missed him, but I can’t say the same for him, because at that time of the day, he usually enjoys the 
sweet dreams. In the afternoon hours, we were supplied with the quantaties of water that we ordered and fuel with which we filled all tanks and spare plastic canes up to the lid. Customs administration and paperwork to leave 
Ecuador were ready. The last check of the electronics, cords, ropes, sails and winches has once more confirmed our readiness for a new adventure. That evening we 
prepared two messages in bottles in four languages with a big wish that they arrive to the shore with the wind and the waves, so to those who find 
them bring happiness and joy. Before leaving, in the banana shop for $10, we bought a whole branch full of green bananas. It was a great idea, to our longest journey in the hug of 97 bananas, I do not think that even an Orangutan would not be happier more than us. Bananas were placed on the boat, in such a place that we were able to watch them even while we slept.
By raising the anchor, one by one, we were on the way to the starting line. Proudly standing at the bow, my thoughts were wandering over the Pacific Ocean, the largest ocean in the world. With sails full of the wind, we left Galapagos at the direction to the belt of permanent southeast winds of the Equator who 
followed Meermowe all the way to Australia. On our route, the first mainland was the island of French Polynesia, Hiva Oa in the Marquesas Archipelago. It’s a small inlet in which I found out that Paul Gauguin and singer Jackass Brel Sampson were buried and whose graves we would like to find if we would have any chance at all.
boring. He was not interesting to learn how many sheep there are in Argentina, how many tons of fish annually were exported from Italy or how much rice fields in China are worth. The only thing that attracted him from that area was the map imagining that one day he must visit the world. Dreaming about sailing on its own boat with two wheels and discovering new spaces is the reason for the existence of Meermowe’s Great Adventure, so you sail with us, be prepared to face the risks of traveling and discover the distant Galapagos.
We left Panama in a fantastic mood. While the light wind filled our sails, we resembled like Darwin’s exploratory expedition of the twenty-first century. Meeting with lizards’ iguanas, watching pink flamencos and steping into the world of huge korni turtle, were new adventures that flowed through our veins. In a 
wide arc, toward the Island of Chapera, we bypassed round about the shallow water that stretched in front of the Bay of Cacique. Passing Punta Lagarta and Mala, we sailed towards the Island Pedro Gonzales and Jan Jose. Our final destination was the island of Cristobal. The days were sunny, warm and humid. We were feeling the proximity to the Equator, from which we 
were separated only a few days. But, none of this did not prevent us that in the shade of the bimini enjoy divine tranquility, fascinating scenes of sunrise and sunset as 
well as a new understanding of incredible animal friendship in this endless of sea vastness. Along with the daily commitments we had on board, fishing was our 
main concern. Old stocks long ago ran out, so we have had great hopes in that discipline, which did not betrayed us. Each day was a new challenge. An unforgettable struggle with a blue tuna and a duel full of jumps with fish of 
rainbow’ colours called dorado, at witch occasion my nylon cutted one finger of the gloves as I helped Peter get it, are just part of the everyday fishermen’s 
stories of this part of the journey. I cannot, without mentioning Roger, a small sea dog that was triumphal overture. Our biggest challenge was the swordfish heavy 27 kilograms, we caught the day before arrival in Galapagos. This brilliant story began unexpectedly with sharp rattle sound of 
nylon, just when we decided to finish with fishing and turned into several hours of strategic duel with nature, 
full of excitement and suspense. It was a real adrenaline rush in which we, in spite of incredible risks, have put ourselfs and all our fishing knowledge, which we had, how could fish arrive on the table. Undeniably, it was our fishing adventure, but I have to be honest, even if we did not catch anything, this would be days to memory. Anyway, we came to Galapagos like a fisherman. It was enjoyment to watch fish tails as they smiled beneath the lid of the freezer.
those, who this invisible line that divides the globe in half, cross for the first time meant the transformation of a young sailor into a professional crew, what was not so easy. While some celebrated the grace and helplessness of King Neptune, from the others bounded with chaines, with strong water jets their sins were paid off. Rich tables, it contributed to the celebration, while the crown of all was the “equatorial cocktail”, specially prepared for this occassion and nothing less than into the toilet bowl. There was that place for all the magical spices, which came to the mind, from beer, wine, coca-cola, whiskey and soup, then flour, pepper and salt until hot tabasco and 
everything that can “beautify” life. Huh, what a nice swallow …disaster, but you never say NO, because there was found someone who said: “Another one, please”. You have to admit, dear friends that after this peppermint story, it was wonderful to return again to reality and our common adventure, so instead of the toilet bowl to drink cold champagne from the champagne glasses, savoring the wonderful oreo cheesy cake that I prepared the day before crossing the Equator. Sins I will not to adjudicate because the happiness and pride that we were feeling that moment, counting geographic minutes and seconds on the plotter together with all of you, were strong enough to drive them out of the way, without chains and hose. While in the soul we celebrated the victory of another section of the way, Meermowe carried us further to the first contours of Cristobal Island.
experience, so our expectations were directed in that direction. The San Cristobal Island, whose name comes from the saint of St Christopher, also known as Chatman is the fifth largest in the group and the first island to which Darwin was disembark. In Puerto Baquerizo we sailed in just before lunch 
and anchored at a depth of approximately sixteen meters. For a short while, to our great surprise, we were surrounded by a multitude of playful sea lions. With their sweet snouts, they acted very friendly, while with the screamming 
and the clapping with the front limbs, they expressed welcome and therefore won us completely. We immediately realized that they adore boats and were not afraid of people. Sociability, importunity and graceful behavior, they were used to 
lubricate the eyes and achieve the goal. And they really have succeeded. With their intelligence and naive play, they quickly occupied the Meermowe as their territory, 
first only one, carefree lying down on the stairs, and then the entire family tree. Sounds like a chauffeur’s story about a sexy hitchhiker with her husband and five children hidden in the bushes. We had no idea really, how much we were naive when we thought that with swinging of the curious male this story ends. No, that was just the beginning of our daily headaches. But still, we enjoyed the party with which we were filled the time until the arrival of customs controls.
Solving the paperwork was going relatively fast. We already were familiar with the rigorous regulations, so it was all timely well prepared. Three inspection’ groups with five officers exchanged each other until we did not collected all the necessary paperwork to enter the country and finally got the green light to 
go ashore. Communication with the mainland takes place by a water taxi, which has operated all day and night in all directions. It took just waving with a hat, to order them via radio channels or yell in order to attract their attention. The rest of the day we decided to spend in the city and stretch our legs. Puerto 
Baquerizo Moreno is a little and very cute place. He was named after the first Ecuadorian president who visited Cristobal. Already at the taxi dock, we have noticed 
that we will not have a problem to find our way in this somewhat sleepy town, whose legend speaks of sailors, long journeys, accidents and deaths as well about the longstanding mystery of the “Galapagos affair”, linked to 
a series of unresolved disappearances on the Island of Floreana in Galapagos. In the Interpretation center, it still can be 
seen found and preserved objects used by the first families that settled there, what is shown in the film “Satan came to Eden”. Among them is the world’s most famous mailbox for letters that have been picked up and delivered by crew of the boats, who 
came to the island. Given that it was the only link with the outside world, perfectly functioned.
romantic mission inflates its red chest with the aim of winning his partner with his infinite attraction. We enjoyed in this natural 
creativity and spectacular view of the beach and the roofs
has two main streets and both stretch along the coast. 
Houses of pastel colors are mostly large, while style of construction is subtle and remind to Mexican hacienda. On the way back, we went toward Malecon, the main public meeting p
lace, from where they were coming the sounds of hot salsa. The place 
abounds of cozy restaurants, bars and shops, while the Ecuadorian seafood “ceviche”, are being prepared for all tastes. Since we had seafood delights in abundance, we decided to only drink something cold.
Baquerizo would not be what it is. They are related to sacred cows in India and like scattered pearls are lying on the road, sidewalks and public benches with no worries that the police will punish them for the wrong parking. Toward whichever way we go, we were “feeling” them in the air. 
Another extraordinary afternoon, full of fun stayed behind us, but the biggest one was when we got to the boat and saw the whole tribe, from grandfather to the smallest bud, stretched out on 
the deck and cockpit. At the sound of the engine, they were reluctantly raised their heads, looking at us questionably. Before we got on the boat, the happy family has jumped into the sea leaving behind an 
unpleasant stench and a message “see you soon”. We did not suspect that we would have breakfast and early morning coffee to drink without our friends on board, so we have covered stairs and the entire backside with all available fenders in the hope to stop their climbing aboard. It was a new scenario with shabby rules of the game, but also with clever solutions that 
surpassed all expectations. The next morning it happened exactly what we have assumed. Helplessly standing in the cockpit, the pearls of Cristobal they surrounded us in full composition, without anybody absent. As we have agreed, taxi arrived sometime before seven o’clock. Whilst our “Beach Boys” were swaying on Meermowe, we were laughing with tears just how intelligent they were.
Flintstones have always been the favorite cartoons of all generations and I’m sure that there are no one who hasn’t, at least once, equalised itself with Fred, Wilma, Barni or Betty. Watching them, only a dead man it would not want to have an 
elephant instead of a vacuum cleaner, postman pelican, dinosaur for riding, a stubborn tiger as a pet as well as feel the taste of Cactus Cola and of course enjoy in Flinstones steak from a grill. Perhaps all this would remain only part of our fantasy that Peter and I have not found ourselves in that well known “yabba 
dabba doo” world that morning. Departing on El Junco Lagoon with the “Flintstones Jeep”, was part of a new adventure, big chasing through the time machine as well as super feeling that we all were part of one modern family of stone age. The way has led us through lush vegetation and agricultural fields. 
Passing El Progresso we briefly stopped beside the tomb in which were, along with the body of Manuel Cobos’, 
or popularly called as “Cobos Imperor”, deeply buried all his affairs about which they are still talking as about bad dream. His story begins in the middle of the 19th century, when he gets approval from the State of Ecuador to open 
the production of sugar cane in San Cristobal. In the absence of laborers, the authorities have released prisoners to freedom, provided they had to live on this island. By developing his own empire, Manuel has become a total absolutist. Apart from printing their own coinage, people had to buy exclusively in the stores that he owned and at the price he created by himself. His orchards with a new kind of fruit it was forbidden to touch the three years, whose mature fruits, the children could not resist. Despite parental prayer that he does not do it, theft he condemned by beatings without mercy. Lust and possessiveness he was 
manifested not only toward girls but also women. They were forced to come for a certain day, by an order that been sent over their fathers or husbands, bathed and for dinner. By sending to the abandoned cliff with a very small amount of bread, where was hard to survive, were punished any opposition to that. After a while, people rebelled and they killed him so that are his brutality and cruelty finally doomed. I just think that 
Manuel was a sailor, his ship should be, for sure, anchored several months on Equator how could he expels all sins and injustice, which he had done.
him by the numerous stairs that led through the Miconian tropical shrubs, characteristic of this area. Standing on 
the edge of a dead volcanic crater turned into a lagoon, we enjoyed the landscape, overlooking the top of Cerro San Joaquin and spectacular 
Punta Pitt. Due 
to its sweet water, El Junco is the place where can be watch the Chatham, Mocking and Frigate birds how they swim 
and clean their feathers from salt. A pleasant wind that we 
were feeling while we walked around the mountain trail, the mystical nature and the beautiful animal world, it created in us a strange peace, serenity and satisfaction. Simply, we were enchanted by that vicious circle.
Our journey has continued on towards La Galapagera Cerro Colorado, the Giant Turtle Growing Center. Our fantastic Flintstones Jeep once again turned a history page and chased down the street as through the Hanna-Barber studio, but fortunately not being driven with feet. Galapagos 
turtles are one of the largest and most difficult reptiles in the world. They’re so big that they can be ride. Although we were not been in situation to try this madness, I believe that it is not easy to hold on at her shell. For some of them nobody knows how 
old they are, who knows maybe there is any who met Darwin and his captain FitzRoy. Walking through the reserve, we had the opportunity to acquaint themselves with the 
complete program of breeding turtles, from collecting eggs in a dark box to growing up and moving into their natural environment. Slow metabolism and large water supplies allow them a yearly survival without meals 
and drinks. There is something they particularly enjoy, that is long-term sleeping so Peter obviously was jealous on them. As time went by, we had to say goodbye from these, on the one hand, the synonyms of slowness, laziness and inactivity as well on the other, symbols of wisdom, longevity and patience, and move on.
impressive landscape but beautiful, relaxed and very friendly people, most of whom live from hospitality and fishing. And so, this afternoon, we had the opportunity to be guests at a private farm of one such family what is actually aroused in us a lot of interest. Winding, dusty road, full of holes, was like created for our cheerful Flinstons’ group while we 
were, as potatoes, bouncing on the seats. At the entrance through the gate, the host and his wonderful grandson were welcomed us with a smile and a shout “Hola”. We were thrilled with the flowering garden that it was surrounded us, while the shade has been a real oasis after of walking around the lake and 
through Galapaguera Center, under the worst heat. The farm tour was very interesting. Everything was on this estate, how the vegetables that we also 
eat, salads, carrots, cabbage, sweet potatoes…. so, as well as tropical fruits of different shapes, colours and flavours. 
Even though they were piled disorderly without rows and well-structured field 
of fruit trees, everything was tailored and in a function. Accompanied by the host, we passed beside bananas and trees full of clusters of green platanas, in whose crown of the tree, we found refuge in hiding from the sun. While we enjoyed, 
on the one hand, in the fruits of naranjilla, small 
orange with sour taste, from the bush on the other hand pineapples were smiling at us. It is interesting that all these fruits, in spite of the hellish heat in which they grow, juicy, refreshing and 
full of vitamins and minerals. Enjoying 
the dates and papayas, without which that farm would not be what it is, its 
has fulfilled all our expectations, while the trees are home grown organic coffee, beside which we stood, were really beyond them. It was so pleasant that I had
unsuccessfully tried to befriend with ducks. What a cross-country race this should be involving Dino and Pipo. Maybe the chasing could bring them to the main role for the new premier of the film “Collectors of Feathers”. Upon his return, 
thanks to the hostess, we enjoyed a fantastic prepared and very delicious 
lunch. At the departure I bought a
the company of their dog germanshiper, on the way back, we visited El 
Corro waterfalls, near the farm. The water was cold but I could not resist, I had to get wet. The day slowly 
had come to the end, as did our tour. We said goodbye to these nice people who our stay among them done more valuable than just visiting the farm. Driving toward Baquerizo Moreno, we 
sweetened with the sweet fruits that we received as a gift. From the dock, with the first available taxi we drove to the ship. Fragrances that have greatly spread around Meermowe were not been from roast pork in the oven or of the cake. We were aware that we had to wash the boat urgently. Feeling the negative vibrations, our cute sea lions shortly disappeared and for us did not stay anything other than take the broom and clean the deck.
To be on the Galapagos and not peek into his underwater world, it is same as if you are coming to Paris and do not see the Eifel Tower. Going to Diving early in the morning was full of adventurous 
spirit, challenges, excitement, unusual encounters, and discovering new places. Beach Las Loberias, not far from Baquerizo Moreno, was a paradise for watching turtles, 
tropical underwater and swiming through the large and dense flocks of fish. The role of the host of the Gulf, has taken over Iguana, presenting this fascinating coastline and untouched nature as its 
home and the best place to enjoy. Because of their black color they have another name “dark devil”. They are very interesting, at the same time sweet and ugly and are a true illustration of 
the time in which dinosaurs walked the world. Returning to the city at the main 
pier we boarded the ship where we are, on the way to Kicker Rock, have got 
lunch. Was that because of hunger or well-prepared meals, I don’t know, but we melted in the taste of everything that was served. Kicker Rock or in Spanish Leon Dormido is an island with two 
steep cliffs that remind of the lion, which they almost vertically descend into the sea and merge in the depths. It is not 
only suitable for crawling bird colonies, but also for the wild underwater world. The ship stopped near of passage between the rocks how we could jump from its platform into 
the sea, and then he sailed around the cliff and had anchored in the calm waters on the other side. The sea current was quite strong, and the sea has been dark and cold. My husband did not want to jump first, but when it came his turn, he did it fast while his brain did not realized what he was done. At that moment he had a wish to be frozen in the flight and so remain in the air above the water or perhaps, before crash in the sea that someone gets him into a quilt, three blankets and several of hot thermos. It was such as in cartoon. When he emerged out on the surface, I did not even try to decipher comments of him because I knew in advance what the writer had wanted to say. I just smiled softly, simply jumped and was 
joined the group. Kicker Rock was the real pleasure for diving. Visibility was excellent, all the way to the sandy bottom of the canal, through which has been passing flock of the white sharks. With the individuals it could easely meet face to face, what has happened to our friend from another group, while he carefreely was swimming along the rock, in the same direction as the “Rodjer”. Not knowing for one other, they appeared on the end of the cliff each on his side then as a magnet attracted and closely collided. Both of them were confused and speechless, it scared one from other and fled in reverse, each on their own side. Was it vegetarian Moby? Who knows, 
it does not matter any more, important is that this funny horror will become 
of 
where did we stop on the way back. So, enjoying in the beautiful scenery, our visit to the white bay was ended with a long walk through sandy dunes. Returning to town, we stopped at the restaurant to drink a cold beer and juice then by the taxi, was back to the ship. That 
evening, on our great surprise, Meermowe has been completely lonely at anchor. At the beginning, for the change, it suited us, but after some time we felt very strange, so we went to sleep with the question: “Where are our friends, whom we missed? We left San 
Cristobal the next morning about ten o’clock in the direction of Isabella Island. By hiding behind the fenders, along with us was embarked one small and to us well-known adventurer so let this to be ours as well as your secret. We will pretend we do not even notice him, and if someone asks you for him, say you did not see it.
As adventurers and lovers of the sea, Peter and I, we had and still have a lot of dreams. One of them, probably most, was to cross the oceans and sail around the world, while the passage of the Panama Canal, in front of which we just were, certainly deepened our dreams and turned them into unique and unrepeatable experience anywhere in the world.
That afternoon, Meermowe left the Shelter Bay Marina with a crew of five members fulfilling the requirement of independent transit. Steve Barrett and Steve Parker, our friends from the ship Waterman and surfer Tom that is of Croatian origin, who was travelling and surfing through countries of Isthmus Panama, were a fantastic team who helped us to cross the canal. With them, we share all our feelings, happiness and excitement. Late in the afternoon we sailed in Lake Gatun. We anchored at the location from which we boarded the first pilot who led us through this part of the canal. 
Numerical strength of our crew was reason enough to use the waiting time to prepare dinner. For this occasion, I chose for something simple, quickly and abundantly, stuffed peppers in tomato sauce and mashed potatoes. For dessert, I baked pancakes stuffed with cottage cheese, sprinkled with chocolate. Smells that were spread from Meermow’s magical cauldron are created the mouth water and opened the appetite. I enjoyed the atmosphere and mood that prevailed on board. Everything was ready, while beer, wine and rum already cooled in the refrigerator.
Panama Canal is long about 80 kilometers. Its construction began Frenchman Ferdinand 
de Lesseps, who are lack of money and incurable disease, prevent in its completion. Further construction work were took over Americans, successfully connecting the Atlantic Ocean with the Pacific, after which, over a hundred years, through the 
Panama Canal sailed the first boat. From that, a hundred years of heavy historical crate, I would earmarked a very interesting story about the achievement of the American adventurer Richard Halliburton, the first 
man who, swam the entire length of the canal. Going through the chamber, due to their weight he was considered as “the lightest boat”, on the basis of which he paid the lowest fee for the crossing that ever paid, amounting to 34 cents.
The pilot arrived with motorboat shortly before six o’clock. We could not believe how much he looked like Raul Castro. Using the knowledge and experience he immediately took command of the ship. Ropes and fenders, as instructed, were placed on either side of the deck, attached to bollards and 
ready for use. Twilight had already started to fall when we left the anchorage and headed towards
Crossing the canal, from the Caribbean to the Pacific, altogether takes about 24 hours. The canal consists of three sections chambers, Gatun, Pedro Miguel and Miraflores in two independent directions. Locks are working on a very simple principle, raising the ships for 26m on the level of the artificial Lake Gatun and then lowering to 26m at sea level.
The lights at night were becoming closer and bigger. A few hundred meters separated us from the door. Shortly before entering the lock, we waited for two boats that have followed us, in order to connect with them in a single unit. Peter did not hide his 
excitement and joy, which are like fireworks emanating from him. “This is exactly what we wanted and what we will do now”, was 
his message addressed to my view. Finally, at the default beep, heavy doors were started to be as on the viking-castle, widely open. Holding the required distance from a large merchant ship in front of us, we 
slowly walked into the first chamber. Pilots were synchronized to manage the movement of our boats and work of people on board. Immediately upon entering, officers on the walls of chamber, who joined us on either side by two, threw to us thin lines with which they are fetched our ropes from bow and stern that they are used to manage and control the distance from the ends.
share this unforgettable atmosphere. It was extremely, and even bits frightening when were the heavy door closed behind us. It reminded on the 
detainees in prison, which will free Robin Hood or perhaps Three Musketeers. Suddenly, large amounts of water have begun to charge the room. Turbulence and eddies they were felt all around us. For every transit needs millions of 
gallons of fresh water, with which, by the system of pumps from the artificial Lake Gatun, chamber fill up in less than ten minutes. By raising the boat to the required level, the door of the second chamber is opening and the principle is repeated. In the third lock, we rose to the level of Gatun Lake when we, with own drive, stepped in its tropical waters, release the rope from the other boats and tied to a huge buoy. Dinner was divine. Our Castro, enjoying the flavors, simply was melted with pleasure, which is why he regrets that the next day was not in our shift, to lead us on.
but not for long, because we had to get up early. With a birth of a new day should arrive the second pilot. Everything was ready but he was not in sight. The remaining two boats are had long since sailed. We were left alone as the orchestra without a conductor. The atmosphere and mood were on the level while waiting time has seemed endlessly. At the right time and the right place, just like a priest, with the scent of oregano, which 
was spread with the first baked pizza for lunch, our dear pilot appeared, who stayed with us until the end of the transit. Just after eleven o’clock in a hurry we were left buoy. It took as soon as possible to pass Pedro Miguel, get to Miraflores Lock up to four hours in the afternoon and prepare for the descent into the Pacific. Diversity of this part of the canal, made our transition even more exciting. Lake Gatun was once the largest artificial lake in the world. The rainy tropical forests 
surround it while in its central part there is exotic Barro Colorado Island that we passed with cries of monkeys, which have been coming from the surrounding jungle. To our satisfaction, certainly were contributed and crocodiles, who have swam along the Chagres River, the largest tributary of the lake. For some of them the 
only head was visible. Looking at them, I felt something as shudder, while in Dino and Pipo was awoke Crocodile Dundee. They were that much entered the spirit of everything what they saw, that they were nearly landed over the ship. I can imagine to feathers and sponges would flew on all sides to them is 
one of them picked up. With their mischief and playfulness, are completely conquered our crew. Passing through the narrowest part of the channel Culebra Cut at Gamboa, we got the new vistas to the terraced hills and Freedom Bridge, under 
which we passed. The beauty of its line and attractive structure amazed us. Recalled the San Francisco. We approached the Pedro Miguel Lock, and tied for the same sailing boats with 
which we passed through Gatun. Entering the room, as with water elevator, we descended down to the level of Miraflores Lake, in wich we sailed with great expectations. Behind us, with a snail’s pace, was moving gigantic ship. With curiosity and disbelief we watched his entry into the Miraflores Chamber. An impressive six centimetres, on each side, 
were separate him from the walls. It was a fascinating scene, in front of which Peter felt like a cockroach that could be crushed at any moment. The liveliness of the lock, gave many passengers with tourist ship, from which have arrived amazing comments directed to the Meermowe as a sailing boat and questions of curious about our adventurous venture. 
Originally, we were tied to their ship and then untied and merged with another boat in a block of two. Sailing into the 
final chamber, we find ourselves face to face with the last door. Two baskets full of cold beer, 
wine and champagne, we brought out on deck and they were ready to celebrate. Pacific, the only thought which occupied all our senses. We stared at the heavy doors as in the celestial miracle. Level of water on both sides finally equalized. 
Sound signal, on which the door began to open slowly, believe me, was quieter than the heartbeat in our chest. The door finally opened. 
We moved forward and while the foam of beer spilled over the cans, we were bravely face with the new challenges of the Pacific. Night has already fallen when 
we’re at Balboa passed under the beautiful Americas Bridge towards the Isle of Flamenco. The road link such as breakwater which connects 
it to the mainland, is made of rocks extracted by digging the Panama canal and therefore is called Amador Causeway. We dropped anchor near the marina and 
thus joined our group. Our crew, that same evening, dispersed and again we were alone. Next three days anchorage and this city were our new home, so we decided to visit the most attractive places in the city and learn about its culture.
the choppy sea and under the wind with our small dinghy, were very small. Friends have diverged and we are, like Lolek and Bolek, started unwise to think how to perform it. Ropes we were threw in and throw out of the dinghy, tried with different combinations, but there was no help. Whatever that we tried the boat was small. Suddenly, my husband yelled, “come on, that’s enough fooling”. I knew that his blood pressure had risen to red so immediately I sat into the dinghy, how he could throw me out, on the coast and then returned to the ship. After about half an hour, while I was sitting and waiting for him in a small cafe, there was a clamor, noise and laughter. I looked in the direction of a group of people, our yachtsman, who gathered in ever-greater numbers, pushing each other is to be closer to the fence. I decided to see what it was. The scene was brilliant. With a big smile on the face, like Speedy Gonzales, my husband was 
chasing in the dinghy over the waves, surrounded by ropes and buoys like a fugitive from a swarm of bumblebee’s females. It was missing the only Mexican shout “Yarriva, Yarriva”. “He who can gets two”, is an old adage. Through a very short time, Peter has gained great popularity. Steve Barrett, who was part of our crews through the Panama Canal, made the picture you see. If would that lasted a little longer, who knows probably this picture could be on the pages of Panamanian Newspapers or on 
TV. In the end, we were quite happy and with the idea to 
compete for the best image, “Around the World” ARC 2015/2016. That afternoon we drove by taxi to Panama City, Ciudad de Panama or as it is popularly called “Little Miami”. 
Pleasant and friendly people, a weird mix of new and old, richness and extreme poverty one beside other, piles of 
garbage and beautiful nature, certainly describe this city. The modern metropolis and old town are two totally separate mid designed for themselves. It was for us a unique experience beyond expectations. 
Upon the recommendation of taxi-driver, we disembarked in the center of the old town of Casco Antigo. His, red brick paved streets lead us to the Square of Plaza 
Cathedral. Everywhere, renovated buildings in pastel colors with decorated balconies and beautiful 
courtyards surrounded us. Mixtures of Spanish and French architecture disclose their authenticity and give them a special charm. The main square is surrounded by historical buildings in the shadow of beautiful Tabebuia trees with pink flowers. Plaza Catedral 
from time to time, is used for musical performances, fairs of food and clothing, on which also expose Kuna Yalla handicrafts from the island of San Blass Archipelago. Cathedral Basilica of Santa Maria la Antigua de Panama, known as the Metropolitan Cathedral, was 
immediately captured our attention. This old Roman Catholic Church is one of the largest in Central America. On each side of the main entrance, there is white tower decorated with mother of pearl from islands of Las Perlas Archipelago. Dark brown stonewall and wooden door give her the appearance of very interesting building. We planned to take a peek inside it but unfortunately it was not open to visitors.
Walking through the city in the unbearable heat, it should proclaim as sports’discipline. Thirst that we were feeling was turned into a mirage, which was captivated us like a 
virus. While we cried to for large mugs of cold drink with lots of ice, Jugo Juices shop, appeared before us as commissioned. 
Without thinking we stepped inside as wilted tulips. Fortunately there were no crowds and the two big cold fruity happinesses, based on beetroot and banana, soon they became a pleasant reality.
Panama was, in search of gold, the main attraction of pirate attacks. Whether crude robbers or not, all of us in some way, we love to listen about the pirate’ adventures and feats, of which have lived and all what one pirate 
makes different from the common man. One such story is located in the Cathedral Iglesia San Jose that was very intrigued us, so we walked toward of San Filipe suburb, how we would investigate her. The church is known for it massive golden altar called “Altar de Oro” what means “Golden Altar”, which survived a pirate attack and remained preserved. This impressive structure is not really made of pure gold, already carved mahogany 
covered with gold leafs and flakes. At that time the altar was located in one of the churches in the first city of Panama, “Panama Viejo”. During the attack on the town of English pirate of Henry Morgan, the Jesuits are, in fear that they could lose it, painted 
the altar in black, to hide gold. Not suspecting that they are outsmarted, pirates have left intact the altar in the conviction that it is worthless. After the Morgan looted and burnt “Old Panama”, the altar is relocated in the new church at its present location.
ourselves from starvation. We opened the glass door of a beautiful, modern and very elegant restaurant that we got in the way. Its name we did not registered because we were too occupied with lunch and intoxicating 
scents. It was a real refreshing oasis on the saharan temperature that ruled outside on the 
street, in a very pleasant and relaxing environment. Panama has no traditional cuisine but dishes are very tasty and made with fresh ingredients, while the service is more than quality. Bottle of cold red wine we ordered, appetizer and salad of calamari, soon were served at our table. After lunch we were back in function, ready to confront with the sun, as Don Quixote with the windmills, and move forward. Between Casco Viejo and the Canal is 
located a very rusty and the unsightly part of the city. The streets are 
full of garbage, stench and drunks, which are lying in the sidewalks. It is characterized with poverty and misery, shops full of nothing and tables that offer rotten fruit. The 
district is prone to protests and manifestations of discontent, what did not surprised us. Although we felt very embarrassed, we passed these streets, where under open sky, takes place everyday life. Barbers doing 
shave and haircut in the street while people wait for their turn, dentists extracting teeth in the partially destroyed house for $ 5 while 
consultations are free of charge. As our son Pedja said, “more misery and poverty means better experience the city”. True, there is something in it, even though it seems that we do not have being here to look for. We left this idyll and were headed toward the French Park, 
which was built as a memorial on the extremely large number of French workers who have lost their lives in the construction of the Panama Canal. Geometric is designed and has a unique panoramic view of the Amador Causeway and modern metropolis. In the evening we returned by taxi to the marina. Sea and wind were calmed down so we absolutly dry have managed to arrive on the ship.
the next day to go to Allbrook Mall, one of the largest in the city. Shopping center is located about twenty minutes drive from the marina. We went out from taxi in front of 
the main entrance. In the mall was ruled sparkle. Next to large giraffes, entertainment park and little tourist train for a ride through the 
shopping center, I melted like chocolate in the sun. We noticed that the prices are affordable and everyone can find something for themselves. Peter had immediately, like a 
burdock, been glued for the sports shop “Hunting and Fishing” and bought a 2mm thick cable stainless steel, that it is fish would not bite through. He was that much happy so is two hours after 
that just talked of her, as about an ingenious solution. Accidentally that I had not recalled him to buy plastic container for diesel, he would even forget that we need it. Finally we come to the supermarket where we bought food and drink for further journey on Galapagos. The rest of the days, we used for rebuild fishing equipment in marina shop. Believe me, Panama is an ideal place for it. 
Everything was so cheap that we could not believe it. We have used a chance and bought ten new seductive baits in front of which, our pets like in front of a registrar, are could just say “YES”. Before returning to the ship, we picked up our passports 
and the necessary papers to leave the country. The next morning was marked by preparation for departure. One after the other the anchors were lifted from the sea. We were left the Flamenco in the direction of Las Perlas Archipelago, the last destination in Panama.
The trip was short and very pleasant for sailing. Contadora Island is one of over two hundred islands in the group, located in the Bay of Panama. The name of archipelago comes from the time of the Spanish conquerors that discovered the islands and large quantities of pearls on them. It used to be a “place to go” just for the rich and famous. Except members of Panamanian government, here were staying Christian Dior, the former Iranian Shah, John Wayne, Sophia Loren and many 
others. Las Perlas it also was the place where were filmed three seasons of TV series “Survivor”. For us this was a tropical paradise full of enjoyment, excitement and nominations, beautiful white sand beaches and friendly people always ready to meet when needed. When I think like a sailor then this is the ideal place to stay before 
sailing to the Galapagos Islands. In the afternoon we anchored in the Bay of Playa Cacique. By radio-link we reported Rally Control about arrival and we decided to the end of the day to stay on the board. With this 
beautiful specimen, Peter was once again proved its fishing virtuality. After dinner I ended up some more jobs how would we had as much as possible of fun and exploration next day.
After a good breakfast, we took the dinghy and drove on ashore. The boat we were well secured from the tidal waves and headed for the trail to Villa Romantica, located on a hill just above the beach. 
The restaurant is first league with a large panoramic terrace, where from a beautiful view of the anchorage. In the parking lot next to the entrance, there were a couple of parked electric cars to golf courses. Immediately we 
rented one of them and as kids looking for adventure got into it. The winding road we raced downhill and uphill, what 
was this enjoyment. Laughter to tears especially when was, near the airport ended up 
asphalt. Surrounded by dust, with cobblestone we arrived to the largest 
beach on the island, Playa Larga. We stopped in a deserted and totally ruined hotel complex Contador. Although in the ruins, you can still sense the beauty of the former appearance. “The owner of the complex 
was killed in a plane crash, leaving the business to the 
large debts,” was the only information that we got. Let’s say so, but all together it looked like the narco calculation. We walked a bit along the beach, where there is also a stranded cruise ship. For sure, he is also covered 
with a veil of secrecy that we have not had time to 
discover. We have rather stayed in our happy and playful reality, so we moved on. Going through the woods, with beautiful houses and estates, we 
stopped in a few other bays, between which one is attracted us the most, Playa 
Dimaggio. The island has a few mini markets with a very small offer and shocking prices. In the immediate vicinity, we sat in 
a cute cafe, refresh with a beer, coffee and cakes then we returned to the Villa Romantica. We enjoyed this ride, as well in the wind, which was cooling us. We had plenty of time, to do another circle around the island and discover some new places that we missed.
With dinner on the beach, we said goodbye to our hosts. During the awards ceremony 
crews with the best time for sailing on this leg, the crew Meermowea was appointed to the best team with the most enjoyment in sailing. We could not believe our ears until we realized that it was about us. On this occasion we got a bottle of quality wine from Panama, which we immediately opened and shared with friends at our table. The problem of returning to the ship is turned into a fun and laugh. Namely, frequent 
waves did not allow us boarding in the dinghy, by constantly returning it to the sand. We had to go into the sea to the waist, hit the right time between two waves and jump into the boat. My husband had succeeded at the second attempt, while I was still jumping and rolling around, struggling to get into the dinghy, before the waves pushed us back. In the last minute Peter grabbed me for pants, threw in like a sack of potatoes 
into the dinghy, turned on the Penta and ignited toward the ship. We were wet and full of sand. From laughter we could not close the mouth. It was genuine madness. The next morning we raised the anchor, set sail from the Isle of Contador and definitely left that marvellous country of Panama. All that was left behind us is this sandy message. The course was leading us toward Islands of Galapagos.
When Columbo, discovering a new world, arrived to Panama, was surprised by the beauty of the alleged paradise, a former archipelago of volcanic islands, which for centuries have attracted the attention of many navigators and pirates. For Peter and many adventurers from our group, who like Columbus, were feeling as conquerors of distant countries, Panama has represented the realization of long-standing dream and the most exciting part of the trip. Get acquainted with the main artery of Isthmus of Panama, where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Pacific, for us was presented a priceless experience full of events and activities.
Ever since we left Columbia, strong gusts of wind and waves, accompanied us all along the way. The knowledge that this part of the Caribbean has never been hit by a hurricane, gave us the mental and physical stability. Detailed preparation, studying satellite navigation and weather forecasting, were promised uncomfortable, but safe navigation. While we watched the day great merchant ships, the nights we stayed up fully 
armed. Even a strong wave, which is suddenly struck in the stern from starboard side, lifted up, swept over us and with all his strength elegant flew right into the salon, did not break our faith in the boat and ourselves. Hooked with safety hooks for the fence, in disbelief and with a smile on our faces, we looked at each other and shouted “Welcome to Panama,” while is Meermowe, defying the waves, was carrying us further through the thick darkness. The desire to win this leg of our journey was stronger than anything, even from the wave, which is to welcoming us, prepared only problems.
Panamanian and “Q” flag already were fluttering on our mast. The course, which we sailed through Panamanian waters, led us to the dreamy islands of San Blas. After six days of sailing and riding the waves, land that was visible on the horizon, it was a few low- recumbent and palm-covered islands of the archipelago. Stretching the Caribbean coast of Panama, they looked like a strung, ragged, curly point of. Our final destination, from which we have been away only a few hours, was the Island of Cayos Chichime. Now already calmer waters, slowly and cautiously we were circling between the islands, skillfully avoiding the very dangerous shallows and reefs, which has surrounded this area. Unusual sight and the beauty of 
the Island Perro, Cayos Holandeses and Lemon Cays, were returning us in the pirate past on the seven seas. At that moment I remembered Anne Bonny, famous Irish pirate, about which I read long time ago and who was operating in this part of the Caribbean Sea. She dressed and acted like a male but she’s never hid her gender. 
Execution she avoided because of the pregnancy and it is not known what was happened to her later. My gaze wandered all over the place and just did not know where to stop it. I was, like pirate mascot, boring parrot Gustav, who, in her enthusiasm, each minute invoked Peter to gain his attention. Fortunately pirates, black pirate flag with skull and 
crossbones, crocodiles, native people in war paint and floating cocaine was not. Everything that surrounded us, were these beautiful islands and the endless Caribbean Sea. About one o’clock in the afternoon we anchored in the lagoon of the Island Cayos Chichime.
San Blas is a group of 378 islands of which only 49 are inhabited. Mostly unknown, represent untouched nature as well as undiscovered beauty and culture. The tropical climate, turquoise waters and white sandy beaches are just part of 
this perfect paradise. The islands are completely under the control of nativ tribes Kuna Yala dedicated to his country and a healthy, beautiful and happy life, which makes them unique. With our short stay we had 
a fantastic opportunity to become part of this community and very proud people, to get acquainted with the way of their life and to find out more about Kuna Yala cultural tradition, which is different from traditional Panamanian culture.
trees and piles of coconuts, which is a local guy opened with a machete and with a straw gave to each member of ship’s crew, have made a tropical atmosphere. Happiness, that we have felt Peter and I, holding huge yellow-brown nuts full of refreshing protein drink, disappeared within “immediately” when to us was, like an electric shock, through a straw passed insipid and tasteless liquid. “All that is bitter and tasteless it is healthy”, was the motto of my old father, what was on that occasion and confirmed, because coconut milk certainly has a positive effect on healthy living. Anyway, carrying coconuts, we walked slowly to thatch-covered cottage, where our friends, with shouts and laughter, coconut milk enriched 
with rum, so they could easily drink it. Peter immediately fit in, accepted the situation without comment and completely emptied his and my coconut. Back on the ship was very exciting. Our friends were towed us to the ship with the rope. How we hooked the stone with penta, we lost fuse of the propeller, without which he could no longer spin. I cannot say that we enjoyed it, but it was funny as in the cartoon. The problem was solved immediately upon arrival at the ship.
Unlike the previous destination, lunch with the hosts, the next day, we prepared by the group. With each ship it was to bring something cooked in the sense of traditional meals. Since I have been born in the heart of Dalmatia, I decided to fry the fish, which we caught on the way to Columbia, in dalmatian style with olive oil, olives and potato salad. With good company and a table full of 
various food and drinks, we did not think about heavy clouds that covered the sky, strong wind which ruthlessly bent palm branches and the rain that just dropped on the island. It was a pure tropical storm, enjoyable time and unforgettable experience.
Kuna Indians are recognizable by their bright decorative blouses called “Molas”, what on Kuna language means “clothing”. The fabric rainbow colors decorates, geometric design, fish and birds, which would certainly impress and the Picasso. How music and dance as well as transferring from generation to generation 
their history, mythical stories and legends, they are, in this modern world and the surroundings, succesfully preserved its rich cultural identity. Men still catch fish from canoes and money for life comes mainly selling handicrafts and coconuts. Children are very dear, smart and beautiful and regardless of the 
language barrier, I enjoyed their society playing on the sand. That afternoon, after the performance of several interesting folk dances, accompanied by the sound of pan flutes called 
“gamma burwi”, flutes and rattles, we said goodbye from Kuna Yalla Indians, and returned to the ship. At Porvenir, the main island of the archipelago, the next morning, we have handled the customs paperwork. Its main attractions are the pelicans, which leave the island at dawn to return 
before sunset and night slept on palm branches. It was hard to leave this place without time and regardless of the time machine that pushed us 
forward, we wanted to stay a little longer. Late that afternoon, the San Blas Archipelago stayed behind us, while we sailed on the course toward Colon. The weather conditions were unchanged infusing awed to the wind and sea, stressing their absolute supremacy. Mounted stern wind, we have approaching all the closer to the Panama Canal.
imagined that would Peter’s pliers with the smell of engine oil, be a major tool in my kitchen. “The goal does not choose means,” people say, especially when stomachs are concerned. Adhering them in the hand hooked for the 
handle, as tango we have danced together, pot and I, over the gas cooker, one step forward two steps back. I felt as if I dance with Patrick Swayze in the movie “Dirty Dance”. Pure art that has finally gave us endless pleasure and enjoyment of a delicious, hot meal and quenched a hunger.
With the program of crossing over the Panama Canal and the preparations for sailing in the waters of the 
Galapagos, we met even in Columbia. Meermowe was in a group of three ship of the first transit, which was scheduled to get underway in the afternoon, 29 January 2016. It wasn’t time 
to waste. Pulling the boat out of the sea and repairs were booked in advance. At the entrance to Shelter Bay Marina, we were tied for the barge to fill the tanks of fuel and water. During that time, 
officials of the Panama Canal were measured the ship and prepared a bunch of papers. Meermowe is, like all other ships, got its identification 
number, then working team has took matters into his own hands and pulled the boat on dry dock.
restaurant. Everything was going smoothly and easily, as that does not happen to us than to someone else. We sat down at the table to refresh with cold drinks. Shelter By Marina is quite far from the center of Colon. Surrounding area did not offer particular attractions. I tried to find some activities that would shorten the duration of our stay. Sitting and searching the internet, I exclaimed happily, “Sweetie, there’s something that it would be interesting for you. Fort Sherman, a former US military base in Panama. Situated on Toro Point and distant from Shelter Bay 17 km walk in one direction, what 
do you say, right thing. ” With a dumpling in his throat, Peter was almost lost the will to live. His spontaneous reaction it was equal to winning combination of Jack Pot. The number “17” was spinning in his eyes as at gambling machine, while a slight smile barely graced his face at a temperature of 40 *. “Waiter, another mug of cold beer,” was his reply, which was replaced each comment. I did not hesitated, I have grabbed my flippers and vivacious jumped into the pool. On the boat we got back early evening climbing the high ladder to the cockpit like on Mt Everest.
with no problems. How much we were right, confirmed by the fact that we have to replace the propeller because of damage rubber seal, which would cause its slip. Given that are, own power of vessel and its safe maneuver very important in transit, we could not take a risk. Otherwise, this panamanian pleasure would cost us thousands of dollars. Propeller we did not found in Panama, so we ordered it in Louisiana, USA. 
Delivery time has not promised a lot and it is brought into question our departure, from which we were far only three days. We had no choice. We immediately informed the agent of Panama transportation for our delay, who he organized a new date of transit, but this time as an independent vessel. Our life experience has told us that problems never come alone and that they agree on each other like dominoes. Booking couplings to connect different pipe diameters of black tank, which we had to put in function for entering the Galapagos, and the purchase of ten 
ordinary small screws to fix rubber cover, since our old has fallen in navigation, they turned this whole story into agony and comedy. It looked hopeless and without end. Screws were arrived like on drag prescription, once a day for two pieces. Five days is supposed to collect them in a pile. With all the efforts, nothing could change. We have left the time that works for us, and the patience as well as positive spirit was our strongest weapon. Forgetting problems, we were rejoiced of going to Panama rainforest to visit Embera Indian village, next morning.
Our exciting adventure began early in the morning. Once again I, before leaving, checked that accidentally I have not forget something. Cameras, of which I have not been separated, small gifts, chocolates and candies for children, raincoats, sunglasses, hats, and two bottles of water, were the main contents of our backpacks. Four minibuses with nice drivers picked us up outside a restaurant at 7 o’clock. The road led us along the canal and Soberania National 
Park. A little more than an hour it took to get to Lake Alajuela, where we met a group of Embera people who are expected us with “dugout canoes”, 
which were built with their own hands. In each of them can be embark about dozen passengers, headed by two Indians, of which one was managed by Penta engine and 
the other was sitting on the top of the canoe. In order 
to stay dry, Peter and I sat in the background. The start was excellent, and the mood in our canoe was, unlike the others, at a high level. Laughter and noise bounced off the high mountains and 
back like a boomerang back. Laughter and shouts were rejected from the high mountains and like a boomerang are returned back. Drew Embera Village is located on the river Changres. Going through “virgin rainforest”, we enjoyed the endless clear water and beautiful nature. From the canoe we managed to see a few parrots and monkeys. Driving river was exciting and very interesting. The water level was not the same everywhere, so we were, 
several times stranded in the rocky shallows and rapids through which are our hosts skillfully manage with canoes. That’s pure mountain life, live with nature away from the city and feel free. Upon arrival in the village we were greeted by traditional music as well as friendly and warmly received in a common hut, 
where is village leader, in a fascinating way presented us the history, culture and way of life. A delicious lunch of fresh fish, fried bananas, popularly called “patacones” and fresh fruit, after the ceremony, it was served in baskets 
of palm leaves. My husband and I did not miss the opportunity for the next half hour to take a walk through the village in which lives little more than twenty families. Very simple wooden huts, in 
which they reside, are covered with palm leaves and raised on high poles to protect them from flooding. School of lower grades, is located on a hill above the village and as we could be noted, 
is well equipped for children of that age. Area is rich with palm trees and Cocobolo wood, of which are made fine handicrafts for sale. 
Traditional baskets and fabric are dyed with natural colours derived from the fibers of palm leaves and seeds of trees Achiote and Jagua.
Socialising with these wonderful people was nearing the end. Embera children, like all children in the world have recognized a language of chocolates. They rejoiced sweet gifts that I had in the bag for this occasion. 
The visit ended by taking pictures and Samanian dancing with the music on flutes of bamboo and hand-made drums. We said goodbye to our friends, who we will forever remain in the memory and heart. On the boat we came back late in the afternoon full of impressions and memories of the warm hospitality of Embera tribes in Panama.
we watched as our group goes, while Meermowe helplessly stood on dry land. We were left alone as the last letter of the alphabet. The date of our departure was for four days. Most of time we spent within the marina swimming in the pool and walking in the evening. Every day we checked a progress of shipment over 
internet and inventing various jobs in order to shorten the time. The day before departure, with a taxi we drove in Colon to buy food. The Americans founded this ancient city in 1850, which have worked on the Panamanian railway 
and it is the second largest city in Panama. Driving along its streets to the supermarket, we noticed that in pretty bad shape and apparently, the city with highly developed crime. Despite its dark side, I am convinced it is worthwile to meet people, a peek into his culture and architecture, for which we had no time. With full 
bags of food, we returned to the ship in the hope of going to sail out tomorrow.
Frustration and tension reached a culmination on the day of departure because the propeller was still not there. That Tuesday we got up very early. At one o’clock in the afternoon, we had to be at working dock, take extra ropes and fenders, well at three o’clock ready to get underway. The time, just when you do not need, it went faster than 
usual. It was only a matter of time when would shipment from Panama City arrive in Shelter Bay. Crane was already set up and ready to raise the ship. Nothing is worse, than uncertainty. It was a game of nerves both for us and for the manager. Every minute has played a role. “Set sail or not, that is the question,” I was kidding with my husband, pretending Hamlet. The answer we received exactly at noon, when the boss of services brought our propeller. It was a bomb dismantled in the last second. Finally, at half past two all was ready to sailing out. We had so much time to once again to order a 
large mug of cold beer in this wonderful country of Panama. Loosening the ropes at three o’clock, we stood happy in the stern of the ship, while we, with a smile on the face, were leaving the marina. Forgetting all the problems, our views were focused in the direction of the Panama Canal behind whose doors were hiding new events and excitements.
For many participants the group of cruisers, with which we crossed the Atlantic Ocean, Saint Lucia represented the end of the rally and had already long parted our separate ways, leaving a furrow memories of a wonderful friendship in which we all breathed together as one and had a 
common goal, to win the Atlantic. Party meeting with the new group of sailors, which we joined and marked the sixth anniversary of the ARC Round the World Rally 2016-2017, was spent in a beautiful and friendly atmosphere with hot salsa 
rhythms. We had two more days to start. Although we felt completely ready for the beginning of a new and apparently demanding adventure, we still could find the little things to fix.
veins, mental food that we gave life and bird in flight, when her wind hits the chest. It was a thought full of pride and happiness that we felt while stood on the deck and watched the forest of white sails with the 
other vessels, which surrounded us as we descended down the west coast of Saint Lucia, sailing toward open sea of the Caribbean Sea.
would ever visit Columbia and all of our knowledge about it, we were picked up with the TV or from the papers. A large number of active volcanoes and frequent earthquakes, make her as fiery land of Pacific, tropical rainforest region of the Amazon, the high Andes 
mountains and prairie plains, in many documentaries, describe it as a place that arouses interest and curiosity, while my favorite movie “Romancing The Stone”, 
displays her as adventurous country full of romance. The world-famous first-class coffee “Juan Valdez” certainly promises an irresistible 
pleasure in its taste and smell, while the name of the most notorious criminal in its history and the leader of the most powerful drug-cartel, Pablo Escobar, presents her as a country of 
crime and drugs. As I thought about Colombia, the compass led us right to the Cape Gallinas and Peninsula De Guajira.
was simply sliding surface of the sea as with the skates on the ice. Even the world famous skater’s names on skating, such as the Russians’ couple Protupopov, were not our level. Their virtuosity on the ice we replaced with triple fishing twists and fishermen’s complains. Suddenly and unexpectedly, the well-known biting sound of nylon Zzzzzzzzzzzz …, which turns into the most beautiful note, once again sounded and passed through our ears. That we after several months of navigation have seen the land, we would not be such happy, but we would probably even missed it, when it comes fish. All the senses we have given to these pleasures of duel. Twitches and the way in which our beauty moved through the water they said 
that it was a new species. Indeed, it was a long, flat fish dark gray and white color with vertical stripes heavy 8.5 kg. After some time, a mysterious dandy there was in safe hands and quickly became the star of the day, but not for long. Its resemblance to a barracuda, which differs only their short vertical lines and the realization that she might be infected with various viruses that picked up by eating small animals of coral reefs, they created dilemma at Peter. In a conversation over radio station with a crew of other ships, even more so, it was confirmed that in the case of barracuda longer than a meter that does not we reserve for possible infection. Assuredness ruled. “Roger” has exceeded a length of 125 cm, so we were happy to get him back into 
the sea while he was still alive. But this glorious and dangerous fishing story full of viruses experienced its peak and ended a few days later after arriving in Santa Marta, when we saw the fishermen carrying three completely identical “infected fish” in first-class restaurants. At that moment, we found out that this is a first class and very tasty fish of Wahoo. I just closed my eyes and stayed with no words. Returning back the movie I felt “Roger’s” closeness.
observing fishing rod. The water just started to boil when Dino began yelling “Fishhhhhh…, Fishhhh… Hurry up”. So much was screaming that we have not heard the buzzing of nylon. Removing water from the 
fire, hastily I went out and really nylon was difficult hauling. “There will again be an epidemic,” teased the Dino. But this time twitches were recognized, it was a “blue tail” tuna. Soon we found ourselves face to face with Peter’s favorite fish that was real excitement and happiness, and Dino was not indifferent while it’s beauty has won its look and charm.
Further journey we spent enjoying in the sun, play, everyday obligations as well as romantic sunsets and sunrises. Fifteen miles before Punta Aguja it looked as if we 
were mistakenly sailed into another story. Weather conditions have drastically changed. A cold wind and the sea simply went on a rampage and watered us from 
all sides. It seemed that we are in the vortex that we do not move from the place. As it were, for us, Santa Marta simultaneously has been so close and so far. In that swirling, gusts of the wind have ranked the volume up to 35 knots while the sea foamed and 
pounded on the nearby cliffs. We moved stormy shortened sail until we went into Punta when the wind and the sea have began to calm down. We 
crossed the finish lane early in the morning and sailed into the marina of the oldest city in Columbia and successfully bind to the pier “F”.
Santa Marta is the first established place in Columbia. It is situated in the Bay on the coast of the Caribbean Sea at the foot of the mountain massif of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta. The 
popular beach of Playa Blanca, extends along its coast. The city is not characterized by clean streets, but 
stands out a rich and ancient history, colonial architecture, beautiful beaches and national 
parks, which certainly reveals the beauty of this country. Promenade along the waterfront is not full of floral aromas, abundant with large sculptures of human figures that express the weight of life and the struggle for life as well as vividly and a lot of people in the evening. That first night we arrived, effusive of the walker’s river, we enjoyed the atmosphere that surrounded us. 
Handicrafts, clothing and footwear were offered on mobile tables and trolleys at every step, while the smells cooked food and chorizo sausages with barbecue spread all around us. It looked expensive and unattractive and so we were not too 
disturbed after a very tasty tuna with spinach and lettuce as I prepared for dinner. In Santa Marta, we stayed pretty short, only four days, so we tried to maximally use the time to get to know the city and its surroundings.
because the Museum Del Oro Tairona, with whom we met as part of an organized visit the next day, we were very interested. It is located in a beautiful colonial villa known as Casa de la Aduana, which means the customs office. The museum is not only living story of the history of the development 
of the people and city of the time, but a treasure of interesting collections of objects Tairona. These are 
mostly ceramics and gold, which were decorated men and women, describing their life, death, ceremonies and rituals. The most interesting part of the museum was about 
Simon Bolivar, the great unifier of Columbia, whose chronology of life, triumphs and his affairs, are the 
memory of the time in which he lived. We were impressed by beautiful specimens of cactuses and iguanas in the 
Botanical 
Garden that is located as a part of his residence where he was living. The authentic look of buildings and things that he used, return it 
to life, while the museum and theater under the open sky are used for organizing various events. Bolivar clearly not lived “evergreen life”. His life was 
very tumultuous and spectacular. As a great womanizer and supporter of drinks, has famously died of syphilis, liver cirrhosis and tuberculosis. What can a real Don Juan ask for more? That evening, after returning to the ship, we decided to go out with friends for dinner. A wonderful 
restaurant in the city center provided us, with soft music, the intimate atmosphere and an intoxicating scent of grill, promising an enjoyable bite It was ten o’clock at night when we got happily back to the ship and went to sleep.
tomorrow’s day trip to Tayrona National Park. Bus full of sailors, our friends, left the marina at eight o’clock in the morning. The park is located about 34 km away from Santa Marta, and extends from Bahia de Taganke to the mouth of the Rio Pedras. Fortunately, the ride lasted a relatively short and finally forced our guide to turned off. He drowned us with his, from Kulin Ban memorized Tayrona prehistoric story, which has recited as a 
poem for Mother’s Day. The narrow and winding road led through a dry wooded area to one of the most beautiful beaches on attractive coast of South America, Bahia Concha. When we arrived, the white tents and a large round tables covered with white tablecloths were already prepared. 
Romantic atmosphere, white sand and crystal clear waters offered the unique charm and relaxation. Peter soon found his self in the shade with a good male 
company, relaxing with a cool beer and quality rum, while I could not wait to throw myself into the sea. This lovely and the surrounding hills protected beach, situated in a deep bay so I carelessly enjoyed all the benefits of the sea. Regardless of the heat, that natural beauty with no time has awakened the spirit of sport, without regard for age. While some played 
volleyball in the water and instead of over the network hit on the ball over the rope of motor yacht tied for the coast, others were enjoying on the sand playing cricket. Clamor, noise, winding, sacrifice and 
celebration of every winning point, were spreads all over the place attracting curious people who gathered in ever greater numbers. Even a few of the owners of motor boats soon found itself in the sea, throwing himself on the ball, defending the colors of the team. 
Princes and princesses received new modern sand castles of 21. Century, with the Internet and satellites, fortresses and tunnels, and the youngest members of our group got happy moments in the world of imagination. The day was fictional. Time passed slowly and the smell of meat and sausages from the grill began to spread through the air. Before dinner I walked 
along the beach. I enjoyed watching people, their relaxed and smiling faces and children how safely and happily they jump and play with the waves. So, carried away with, I did 
not even notice that I have reached the end of the beach. Returning back, my attention was attracted by a group of people gathered around a local boy who was holding something in his hand while the group excitedly watched and commented. I walked up to them to see what it was. On his palm calmly stood 
blue crab. That was a fantastic and beautiful example, of how he said, poisoned crab. It is obvious that he knew how to hold it in his hand without being bitten. It was carefully lowered to the sand. The moment of his confusion I used to take a picture. Tayrona beaches are very rich by underwater world, so that, walking along them, there is big opportunity to see such a large crab. I had a very pleasant chat with 
Dave and saying goodbye to him, I went on. The smell of barbecue lured me all over, while an empty stomach had accelerated pace. Dinner and society at the table were great. There’s a saying “where you eat, be as closer to the kitchen,” so our table had managed to win a waiter who is his benevolence, instead of one allowed, showed by serving a double portion of the cake. The mood was on the level. The main theme for teasing of male composition was about the beach that was located near us, Playa Nudist, to which it can bring only a
sombrero, mask and fins. With laughter and like Mexican salsa hot comments, pretty soon we were greeted with the whole team of the host and left the Tayrona. Driving into the bus, in the late afternoon, happy, tired and full of impressions, we returned to the marina. It was a beautiful day and socializing that we will long remember.
so our stay in Santa Marta extended for one day. It serves us well to take advantage of the time to go to the center to repair Peter’s bracelet wristwatch. A
series of minor and relatively empty block streets led us to the main street in the city where we were suddenly in bustle and merged with the river of people and traffic jams that ruled on the road. Buses like pomegranate full of people, cars, 
trucks, motorbikes, bicycles, trolleys with one or two wheels and everything that had a chance to roll, it was part of the urban chaos. On the streets there is nothing you cannot find. While are 
jugglers with oranges advertised orange juice on the mobile carts, on market stalls were offered, 
from street food and jewelry to small sewing machines, home appliances and tools. Santa Marta 
is not only the city of fiery colors expressed through the way they dress and making handicraft of fabric or knitted from the thread, 
but also a city of contrasts. In contrast to bright windows are unsightly holes 
and sheds crammed with a bunch of stuff garbage on the street. The 
atmosphere around us was very interesting and impressive. For hours we both could stand and record this city bustle. Columbia’s cuisine is rich in a wide range of foods, flavors and fragrances, depending on the area where it is served. From simple everyday tortilla with meat, seafood and vegetables, pizzas prepared in the fire, in which we ourselves enjoyed for lunch in the afternoon, to extravagant succulent crispy fried ants, Hormiga Culone, which are prepared south of Santa Marta, 
in Santander Department for those daring with a stomach hard as a peasant shoe. Services for the repair of watches was on the street. Trolleys, in which stood a young Colombian, were full of watches, hands, the springs, small screws, bracelets, as well as necessary tools. While Peter waited at his watch, I walked to a nearby shoe store and 
bought a very favorable sandal. As the day draws to a close, we are slowly walks back to the ship. In one moment, my attention was attracted by this dustbin, which I picked up with camera, as a great idea, how to take advantage of plastic bottles and decorate the city streets.
calm down only about eleven o’clock when we got permission to sailing out. Meermowe has once again successfully crossed the start line, carrying us towards the dreamy islands of Panama, San Blass. Standing on the stern, I looked at Santa Marta as in a place that gave us a fantastic and memorable experience until we passed islet El Morro.
Saint Lucia was the crossroads of major events. Here there is, on the one hand ended the second stage Meermowe Great Adventure, our first trans-atlantic crossing across the Atlantic, while on the other hand, it is the door opened for new challenges of another marine wastelands called Pacific. All our senses are poured into the pride that gave us the strength to continue and indescribable happiness eagerly anticipated encounter with our son Pedja and his beautiful partner, our dear Marika.
tangun. With enhanced wind and waves the first half of the travel was with no problems. The greatest thrill of why our heart almost jumped out of the chest, prepared us a huge fish that are caught on the hook, but unfortunately, with all the effort that the drag closer to the boat, we had no chance to draw it out. By all accounts, it was not a goldfish with three wishes, what it would she fulfilled if we would take her off from the menu. 
Rather than compromise, the monster began with all his strength haul nylon so fast until it was unrolled to the end and disappeared into the sea. In Peter’s hand is steyed only an empty reel. While we are confused and in disbelief looked at each other, we were able to say just WOW!! Can you believe it! We still very often talk about that fish as about the great secret without answer, which only the sea knows.
places up to 46 Beaufort. So descending down the waves in the evening, along with the sunsets, it seemed to perish in the fiery chasm of hell. It was a complicated part of the trip accompanied by problems that were popping in front of us like rabbits out of a hat. Many enjoyments have been replaced with duties and increased activities on the board. Six days prior to entering into Rodney Bay broke us the pin that connects the hydraulic cylinder automatic pilot with helm. We had to react quickly, take the 
helm and steer manually, which can not have been easy. Struggling with the enormous power of the waves and the wind, which caused muscle pain in the arms and back, we took turns every two hours. Original spare part we did not have, so we quickly thought about what to do. We still had two hours until dusk. I was not doubted Peter’s ingenuity and resourcefulness. While he is in 
the lower deck turned over the things, the lamp was turned on. With great hope and smile on his face he climbed into the cockpit carrying two new debt replacement screws. Wasting no time, regardless of the rolling and the risk of injury, my husband crawled into the back bunker. During this time I managed the boat and played the apprentice of Hlapich, adding a tool that he is sought. The operation was successful, the green light came on and the automatic pilot was again 
brought back to life. Now, it was only a matter of time and the uncertainty of whether and how long this screw will withstand the pressure. Everything that we had that moment was the belief in the soul and happiness in our hearts while we are together with Meermowe sunk into the dark not knowing what awaits us during the night.
image in my mind during the night when I got up to check whether everything is okay. Stepping into the salon legs were found in the water just like in the basin. The shock that I experienced bounced off the cold water and like a boomerang has alerted my brain systems I turned on the lights, immediately called my husband and by testing the water we found out that it was a drinking water, wich was somewhere widely seeped. Sink in the kitchen was the first of our investigation. When I opened the closet door, I had what I see. Through the cracked pipe was gushing water. Excluding water pump to supply water from the reservoir, we were able to stop the further influx of water. Great luck was the fact that the water had not poured in the rooms. Knocking out carpets onto the cockpit, we immediately began to pump water and dry space. In the meantime, we controlled the work of the automatic pilot and endurance of the screw. As the wind and sea mercilessly toyed with us, with minimal intervention all worked 
flawlessly. Morning has long arrived when we, along with the smell of coffee, sat in the cockpit to relax and rest. Just at that moment through my senses came the wonderful smell of warm fritters and who knows what would still remembered that I did not flinch at the seriousness of Peter’s voice.
wet as if we had a shower in it. With all this madness, I remembered the song “Shipwrecked”, which I began to hum while we browsed through all the potential sites that would eventually penetrated water. The song is very funny, and most importantly, has brought a lot of laughter and teasing among us. Since we did not find anything, we were left with only one solution, take off our decorative tapicirung from the wall, which was a real hit. Behind upholstery were hid the clutch to drain water out using bilch pump. Hose through which we were pumping water out of the salon and “thrown out into the sea”, it was separated from the coupling and hung in the air, so that the pumped water poured into the room, BINGO. We looked through the hole right into the sea as out the window on the island 
of Solta, through which the waves were also penetrated into the space. We immediately attached the hose to the coupler and secure it well. Everything happened as if in a bad dream, accepting the fact that there is always worse from worse. Once again, firmness and perseverance in achieving our dream life, have helped us to overcome everything that got in the way before 
us. Seeing the land of Saint Lucia, full of pride and happiness, our great success decent we celebrated with a glass of champagne.
the sound of ship sirens, cold rum punch and a large number of crew members, our friends, with other boats. Wonderful ARC staff handed us a large representative basket of tropical fruit with a bottle of the 
original rum. The comforts of meeting was also contributed to this guy of bright colors, who also welcomed us and wished comfortable stay on the island.
hospitable. Volcanic in origin while the climate and the natural beauty of wooded mountains, which stretch its entire length, described as a tropical paradise. The first inhabitants were the Arawak Indians, and was named after Saint Lucy of Syracuse by the French, first inhabited by Europeans.
Pedja’s and Marika’s arrival, time to waste really is not any, the more so we have to, to their arrival, along with repair the rudder and welding the fence, clean and washed the boat then inspect and prepare all for further journey. A list task by priority has already been made. Because of the bad experience with hydraulic automatic steering mechanism, we also decided to install automatic pilot to wind ordered from England, which it has, during further trip, proved to be the best and most valuable toy on board.
Rodney Bay is a small town with very organized shopping centers away from the marina for about fifteen minutes. On the way to the grocery store is Medical School and Aquatic Center. Chain of restaurants and cafes stretches along the marina, 
while every Saturday there is the market of fruit and vegetable as well as souvenirs and clothing. Everything is very expensive but the bargain purchase can be done at half the price. In those 
days was celebrated the National Day. The evening before it was held the National Festival of Lights in honor of Saint Lucia. That night, with 
quiet music and undertone singing, ceremonial procession slowly moved from ships passing through the docks of the marina, carrying on his head decorative lights and illuminated boxes of seafood, followed by fireworks. Sitting in the cockpit we enjoyed this unusual and very interesting scene.
The international airport is located in the south of Saint Lucia, Vieux Fort. It is an hour and a half away by car. Rodney Bay we left by taxi for four hours before landing, with the intention that, by the way, we visit some of the popular attractions of this part of the island. The road that we drove, led by the shore and even a little bit is not resembled 
motorway. It was very bumpy, winding and full of holes. We drove up and down through the mountain range and enjoy the view on small quiet villages, fertile fields of mango and avocado and everything that makes this world so different. Many houses were built of wood and corrugated metal sheets.
The first lookout point, at which we stopped, offered a view on Marigot Bay, the most beautiful bay in the Caribbean, where was filmed the original “Dr. Dolittle” movie with Rex Harrison in the lead role. This pristine beauty is certainly far more than the holidays for eyes. Most of the 
population of Saint Lucia is from Africa or is of mixed African origin with deeply etched history of slavery. Their hairstyles, way of dressing and noble qualities that adorn them, largely seem them interesting and different, therefore I was photographed them with particular interest to 
bring them closer to all of you who sail with us through Meermowe’s Great Adventure. How the way led us all to the south, the road was becoming busier. Soufriere, at the time of French rule, the capital city of Saint Lucia, now a small 
fishing village, is situated in the beautiful bay at the foot of two volcanic massifs. Twins Pitons, as they are popularly called, are volcanic ranges that rise directly from the sea and are a World Heritage 
of Island. Covered with trees and lush vegetation while its base is rich with coral gardens. Of course, we did not miss the opportunity to visit the Diamond Waterfalls and Botanical Garden. 
Our time passed quickly in the pleasant company of our friend the taxi-driver. Approaching the airport excitement was increasingly 
growing. Flights from Atlanta landed on time. Meeting with Pedja and Marika was more than 
cordial and happiness knew no bounds. In Rodney Bay we returned by new road that led us to the eastern coast of the island. It was nearly eight o’clock in the evening when we arrived at the boat and with the tray full of creme-pie we welcomed the new crew of the ship Meermowe.
of events. The bus stop was located near the marina. Old, rusty and musty vans, with no timetable, full of people, were driving every five minute. Some of them appeared to be ramshackled and seemed as though they would fall apart before arrivel to our destination. In less 
than an hour we stood near the main market, between Peynier and Jeremie streets that make up the heart of the city. Due to poverty and poor living conditions that 
characterize it, Castries is an energetic city beautiful colonial architecture which is dominated by vivid colors and smells of food. Finding in one of such environments together with Pedja and Marika 
is realy great experience and enjoyment. Great Market Hall was the first place that we have peeked into. From the abundance of handicrafts, 
garments and paintings that surrounded us, our crew is most enjoyed in its main attraction, the food. Luckily, they were not interested in buying eggs, otherwise we should, 
guarantee, and a peek into the chicken coop. From a large selection of 
Caribbean exotic spices, opted for medium spicy yellow sauce with peppers, from which my mouth and tongue were hot that I could play the roll of dinosaur Dino. It was unthinkable to leave this place and 
do not buy very tasty plunger coffee and Cuban cigars. Castries has a number of restaurants. With popular dishes made from fresh fish and lobster can be found and chicken dishes, pot 
stew and callaloo. The street food as well as and dirty and unsanitary holes filled with aluminum cookware, in which food are prepared, can be delicious and also served as in restaurants, although it does not look like that. We passed these narrow streets full of scents and tables, as Pedja says “if it’s more black and miserable that would be better 
because it is only way to experience the city.” At the end of the street we sat at the table of a small “restaurant” to kill thirst. While we waited for the order drinks, we ordered, Pedja went to the toilet. After a long time, we saw him in a hurry toward the fence and laughing to tears, carrying an enormous bucket to grabbed seawater over the fence and washed after using the 
toilet. “Do it yourself” system has always provided great satisfaction. The toilet was so unsightly and small that everything what could fit in, was the toilet bowl and that bucket. We choked with laughter looking at him, while the owner of the restaurant deeply thanked him. If we had a little bit more rest, “enjoying the city’s soul,” he might offer him the job, you never 
know. Wherever he goes, Pedja has alwalys something funny to happen, it was only a matter of time. The hours passed quickly in a pleasant chat and laughter.
streets are full of people, while Derek Walcott Square is decorated with colorful buildings and borders the largest church in the Caribbean, the Cathedral of the Immaculate 
Conception. Interior of the cathedral is dominated by paintings by local artists. Life city also gives cheerful rhythm of the songs performed by street singers. Late afternoon, happy, tired and cooked from the heat, squeeze we drove into the van to Rodney Bay. On the way to 
the place we passed local airport whose runway extends close to the cemetery. What enjoyment!! We got off the bus in the center of Rodney Bay with the intention to buy a few things for the boat. Before the entrance to the 
supermarket, black guy who was bearing the shirt of the Croatian national football team, attracted us. No, we were not dreaming, the
The next morning, we set sail for Martinique, French paradise in the Caribbean. The weather was hot and windy. Marika was outstanding sailor. She 
quickly learned all the jobs on the boat. While Pedja enjoyed the role of skipper, she was our little from deck. With great 
pleasure I watched how she worked with ropes, preparing the fenders, lowered and lifted anchor and with the same passion and a smile on the face was scrubbing the deck, which is, certainly not strode past. Palm trees, 
volcanoes, french bread baguette and a croissant filled with chocolate, about which Marika was dreaming since arrival, certainly is definition of this modern and elegant island. It abounds in beautiful beaches, turquoise sea, distinctive vegetation and friendly residents. The island was discovered by Christofor Columbo, while Saint-
Pierre, first established a settlement on the island, birthplace of Napoleon’s wife Josephine. In the distant past here lived cannibals called “Wicked Caribbean”. Using crosswind, Meermowe carried us with wind full sails on the course to the capital Fort-de-France and the corresponding Marina Poudrier, about 40 miles away from Rodney Bay. Rough sea and strong wind were 
disturbed our sailor and spoil her biorhythm and after a slight vomit, she looked like a canary Leopold in the run from the cat Tom, so the salvation was found in the bed where she’d rather dream about croissants. In the marina we sailed in the afternoon. Scrubbing the deck and landscaping ship was more effective than rum and our navigator came back to life.
Fort-de-France is a commercial center and largest city in Martinique. It is located at the end of a huge bay. Colonial narrow “gallery” streets characterize it. 
Wrought iron balconies, attractive fortress, Cathedral of Saint-Louis and Schoelcher Library, reveal the historical, while flowers 
decorated Savannah Park, romantic atmosphere. Already the next morning, we drove a taxi to the city center and followed up on the morning of seductive scents that spread from the bakery. Our infallible compass led us right to the 
original french croissants, mmmmmm … filled with chocolate. By the way, we bought two baquettes, which we planned to bring to the boat what was remained just a theory. Like gingerbread, they were simply melted in the mouth. We bought a few items in the shopping center, and headed back with the intention to sail to the bay on the other side, 
where we anchored. The beach that had stretched some distance from the ship, was simply attracted us, so Marika and I were decided to swim that part 
while Pedja has followed us by dinghy. We felt like on Hawaii. The warm sea and white sand are completely conquered us. While Pedja and Marika enjoyed in their own 
little world I watched the turtles at the bottom of the sea and emerged a beautiful starfish. Enjoyment and happiness knew 
no bounds as well as comedy and laugh as much as you like when was Pedja taught Marika drive dinghy. She was hurtling rapidly 
as Nicki Lauder in Formula 1, leaving a large furrow. Where they went no more turtle was gone. It is wonderful to have them on board, 
Peter and I were thought happily. Christmas was celebrated with a gala dinner, drinks 
and cake, enjoying the romantic sounds of the saxophone. With lunch in the restaurant the next day, we planned our further journey to the far south of the island, in Le Marin. At anchorage of Marine Le Marin, we sailed late in the 
afternoon where we decided to spend the night. Left to fishing pleasures, my husband is, that night was speed caught 
12 fish the size of 250 grams. Serial were coming out one after another, as if they are competing which will take the bait before. We are all looked forward to tomorrow’s lunch, which was finger licking. 
New Year, we welcome on board in a happy and singable atmosphere. Loud music, which echoed from Meermowea, attracted the neighboring sailors who were passing by, peering at us ship in curiosity to see what was happening. Marika and I danced until two hours after midnight, after which we went to sleep.
have inspired us, the next morning, rented a car and take a peek into their interior. A winding road led us 
through small picturesque villages, Gros-Morne, Saint-Joseph and Ducos, suitable for the cultivation of pineapple plantations, whose fields stretch as far as the sea, sugar cane and bananas. 
While the mountains are covered with tropical forests, the coast is decorated with beautiful bays. City of La Trinite extends to Caravelle peninsula and is the most beautiful part of the island of Martinique. On the way back we stopped in the small town of Sainte-Anne, 
which simply exudes french charm, to enjoy his most famous and one of, arguably, the most beautiful beaches in the Western Indis, Les Salines. We simply were melted like ice cream in the sun in this divine and romantic scene.
experience and excitement that will be long remembered. The next morning we set sail from the marina and a short time, we stayed close to one of the nearby beaches for a bit more swimming and enjoyment in the sea, after which
afternoon. It was dawned the day of parting of our crew. It was difficult for us to look at their backs, while the taxi drove to the airport and increasingly more disappeared from our sight. 
Time spent with Pedja and Marika was, believe me, far more than this post. Upon returning to the ship, we continued with preparations for our next destination. Still we were only four days separated from start to Santa Marta in Columbia.
Meermowe's Great Adventure 