miscellanea
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Nuevitas to Playa Guana<< | Cuba2003 | Playa Guana to Playa Guaney >>  22 April 2003. Oscar Cases Cid of Rombos picked us up from the Hotel at dawn on 22 April and took us down to the water west of the town where we picked up our boats, prepared the day before, thanking the guard, loaded them, said our goodbyes to Oscar and Mago Llanes Fern·ndez and paddled off. It was a fine still morning, and rowing skiffs were out training as we followed the coast around, quickly passing the last houses of Nuevitas. We were not sure how large the channel to Bahia La Gloria would be, so took a wrong turning to explore what turned out to be a narrow winding river through the mangroves before finding the wide channel itself. We passed the Guardia Frontera at the north end of the Channel, the first and last that was not interested in us. As we paddled across the shallow lagoon - the bottom of which was covered in upside-down jellyfish - a small fishing boat shadowed us closer inland. We caught up at the first group of islands. The fishermen were heading in the same direction as us to fish. They gave us some fine mangoes that were devoured for lunch on the narrow beach of a small cayo, our first stop. On through the mangrove channels in the afternoon heat, aided and cooled by a slight tail wind. The areas marked as islands on the chart were actuality shallow lagoon fringed with an outer rim of mangroves. Inside those island lagoons were many brilliant pink flamingos. Along the channel we met some more fishermen, who were travelling very slowly along the banks, one in the water feeling for conches. The small, muddy beaches there amongst the mangroves were covered in conch shells, mostly slightly damaged. At the mouth of the channel we pulled ashore at the Guardia Frontera post, alongside a fishing boat. The pleasant guards phoned through to authenticate us, as we sheltered from the sun under a small tree, eating tinned fish whose oil softened the dry bread. Once the guards had authenticated us, we discussed where would be good camping, and one recommended Cayo Ratanes, a small island just along the coast as being mosquito-free, so we paddled there. We were now on the open North coast of Cuba, but inside the outer reef and the trade winds had raised no swell that got through. Close in to the island it was very shallow and we had to follow tiny channels to reach shore and a splendid first night on the Cuban sand. 23 April. Another fine day as we paddled in the morning cool along the shores of Cayo Guajaba, stopping once for a rest. The beach here was filthy with washed up plastic rubbish, mostly American, but some in Spanish and French to. Hardly surprising, with Bermuda just across the water, and the trade winds blowing from that direction. Fortunately, it was only Cayo Guajaba that was that badly covered in flotsam: the coasts further west were not nearly as bad. At the north-west end of Cayo Guajaba were a couple of large but seemingly deserted building complexes, and some poorly maintained fish traps reaching far out to sea. We paddled through gaps in them. The Guardia Frontera at the next channel entrance, Pass Guajaba, was housed in a stranded wreck. We paddled behind it and moored to a sleek, white motor launch. The guards there removed their shoes when moving from the oily, rusty deck of the wreck to the launch, so we did likewise. We had not heard any acknowledgement from our VHF radio call the night before, so we tested the radio there, and it was working. There was a small fishing village just north of the Guard Frontera post, the channel to it barricaded with posts to prevent traffic. Such barricades are no problem to a kayak, so we headed over to look at the village. However the guards shouted at us and pointed down the channel, so we were clearly not encouraged to visit that village: we headed down the channel. Back down the mangrove channels between the outer cayos and into the inner lagoons. Once in the lagoon we took a compass bearing to the village of Playa Guana on the far side and paddled over with a stiff following wind pushing us along. We could see the scores of buildings and a line of parasols along the beach, and were dreaming of something to eat and a cold beer. As we got closer we could see that most of the buildings were deserted and the parasols were tattered palm fronds long since abandoned. We pulled ashore and the friendly villagers helped us carry our bags then our boats to the house of the Guardia Frontera, a charming wiry old man who held that post in the village. He and an equally charming couple - the weathered face of the men with a cigar end firmly in place below the tattered straw hat - made us at home on the roadside veranda, with space for boats and tent and seats for the weary bodies, and let us use their shower: the tropical scoop of water variety. We were given delicious bananas and fresh coconuts and settled down with rum and cigars. The couple left in a rustic cart drawn by a placid, threadbare horse. << | Cuba2003 | Playa Guana to Playa Guaney >> |
