Harmon and Randall's Voyage…

Leg 3, Blog 24, (mostly written August 20, 2025) but finally sent out November 13th.

Greetings! Randall and I have arrived in Rio to begin our next Leg. Below is the final blog from when we arrived last August. Sorry for the delay!!

BLOG FROM AUGUST 20, 2025

Well we made it – kind of. I mean I cannot tell you how happy I am to be in Rio de Janeiro, but this is not where we were supposed to end up. This is my fault, but not entirely.

Last year Randall presented me with his projected itinerary for Leg 3. It had our end point right here in Rio. But that was not good enough for me. “Let’s push on to Punta del Este” I suggested, “It gets us that much closer to Cape Horn”. Uruguay, however, meant capping off our almost two month journey (at that point) with an additional 4,000 nautical mile (30 day) non-stop sail from Cape Verde to Punta (or Perryopolis). Calling my bluff, Randall said, “Sure”.

Game on. So when we set sail from Cape Verde, it was with the full intention to sail non-stop to Uruguay. As the boats steward, it was my responsibility to purchase fruits, vegetables and other provisions to last us the entire 30 day journey. While Randall could be happy with a one to two tin can a day diet, I needed “real” food so I hit the local market and shopped accordingly.

Barely 48 hours out of Cape Verde (as you may recall from an earlier blog post), the wind had already backed. We were now heading towards Africa rather than South America. By about the fifth day in, we were further from Uruguay than the day we started. We persevered, and as we began to approach the equator the temperature and humidity, especially inside the boat, reached unbearable levels. The noise of the engine as we barreled up wind plus the incessant pounding coupled with the heat and humidity made it impossible for me to sleep. Randall would ask me if there was a pill that I could take (alas no). As the boat lacks refrigeration, the majority of our perishable food purchased the week before rotted in the tropical heat. Interestingly, this did not bother me at the time because I had no appetite. It took me too long to figure out that I was sea sick, exhausted and depressed – in other words a complete wreck. We were less than five days out of Cape Verde with 30 more days to go until Uruguay. I knew at that moment that in my present condition, I would not make it.

I began my own personal (and completely self-centered) depression doom loop. With each day, I grew more tired, and exhausted. In the intense heat, humidity and rough up-wind conditions I stopped eating and sleeping but I was able to force myself to drink liquids. Instead of sleeping, my mind would race anxiously. I knew that if I could not sleep I could not recover and that made me even more anxious.

Then I began scolding myself for getting into this predicament. This trip is of my own doing and I am entirely responsible for my own misery. I am not sure of how I will get out of this predicament, but if I ever do I will never get myself into such a situation again. And why did I leave my friends and family? For this? Why am I not happy and content at home like normal people? What made me think this would be more fulfilling and meaningful than spending time with my wife, children, friends and job? What is wrong with me? I then drifted back to my childhood and teenage years and did my best to understand what went wrong and how could I end up here, a personal wreck on this boat. Maybe it was my relationship with my mother and father. Bless their hearts, they tried. In my stupor, it finally hit me. I’ve got it, I thought, I need to go onto therapy as soon as I hit land to understand what went wrong in my life.

Out of mercy for me and taking into account his own survival and difficulties in dealing with a zombie-like crew mate, Randall made the decision to stop at the remote island of Fernando de Noronha – the first possible stop off the northern coast of Brazil. Maybe we could re-provision, maybe we could have a day or two of rest, maybe I would just jump ship, run home and lock myself in my closet because nothing could be worse than what I was feeling. Also, Randall’s suggestion of a “pill” for me was spot on. It was a sea sickness pill that I needed!

As you know, we made it to Fernando de Noronha stop did not end well for us due to immigration (I.e., visa) issues. I was even denied the right to “self-deport”, but at least I avoided federal prison, got a shower and some fresh food and Randall was able to procure fuel for Mōli. Because as you know, if you don’t got the wind (as we most certainly did not), at least you got the engine as long as you got the fuel!

At that point Randall and I knew, even without discussing it, that I would never make it to Uruguay. So Rio, a mere 11 day sail from Fernando seemed like a good place for me to jump ship while Randall could sail alone further south – mercifully alone. But as we set sail from Fernando, two phenomena occurred. First, after a shower, some fresh food and much less sailing into weather, I began to ever so slowly recover and regain my strength. Second, Randall realized that back at home he had some real-world obligations that he could not push pack. Rio, therefore, could actually, make a darn good end point for both of us for this leg. So, Blame it on Rio, and not (entirely on) me!

Coming into Rio!

I have to hand it to Randall because to me, one of the most frightening aspects of skippering the boat is coming into a strange harbor. Add to that that it is night, blowing 20 knots with six foot swell and tons of marine traffic. Sure we have charts, and they are USUALLY correct, but still! Randall thought I was being overly dramatic upon our approach as I donned my PFD and was about to clip in. But once we rounded the bend, the wind settled down, the swell reduced and the City of Rio opened up to us in the warm 70 degree evening air.

Above: While much of the Rio bay/harbor reminded us of coming into San Francisco Bay, the presence of a plethora of petroleum service vessels was a reminder that we were in different waters. These two drillships lit up the sky and seemed to be moored and lit up permanently.

Above: As we sailed into the bay, we knew we were unmistakably in Rio as Christ the Redeemer on Mount Corcovado welcomed us.

Above and Below: As we approached the end of the Bay, we were suddenly engulfed by an incredible display of fireworks. Finally we felt properly welcomed into port!!

Above: Just in case the “Welcome to Rio” fireworks display was not enough, there were umpteen cabin cruisers filled with young and old slowly perusing the harbor drinking and dancing to Brazilian bossanova.

Above and Below: While Randall and I basked in the delights of the fireworks and floating parties, we were rapidly reaching the end of the Bay without knowing where we would end up. Earlier we had made contact with the Yacht Club of Rio de Janeiro who seemed to agree to let us moor in the Bay just off the club (there were a couple of language issues). But as it was now late on Saturday night and the parties were if full swing, we had no idea how we would secure ourselves for the evening.

Then out of the blue comes the yacht club runabout with Silvio on board who was expecting our arrival and quickly helped us tie up onto the mooring ball. In Portuguese, Silvio then invited us onshore to take a shower, get a drink or order some late dinner. As we were to clear customs the following day, Randall thought it best that we (really he meant me) remain board in the hopes of avoiding another immigration issue even though this time we did have the requisite visa.

That morning, we ventured in and found ourselves in one the biggest, most beautiful, most friendly yacht clubs in the world. https://yachtclass.mc/en/yachting-around-the-world-en/yacht-class-monaco-presentationiate-clube-dorio-de-janeiro/. It was full of members and guests eating breakfast, attending to motor and sail boats, and hosting the largest Optimist fleet of 120 whose members are often found in olympic ….

Above: The first morning we enjoyed a breakfast with fresh papaya and an orange/papaya juice.

Above: The more we learned about the Yacht Club of Rio, the more we fell in love. Ok…how about this…I am at the all-day coffee bar that serves complimentary espresso or latte’s with a smile! Could not get enough of those.

Above: They have their own child care facility on-site. This is absolute genius. Can you imagine? “Honey, I’ll watch the kids today”…meanwhile you drop them off at child-care and get in a full day of sailing. Pure genius.

Above: A special thank you to Carlos Reposo who took us under his wing. Normally to be able to be served by a yacht club of this caliber, one has to be a member of a reciprocal club of equal standing. Problem is that neither Randall nor I are members anywhere. So Carlos took us in as his personal guest and arranged mooring, guest privileges, haul-out services, customs brokers and finally a Brazilian Navy liaison.

Above: How did Randall and I get so lucky? Let’s jump in the Time Machine and go back to my Chico State University days in the late 1970’s. Chico State, as you might imagine, was not a bastion of blue-blooded yacht clubbing college kids. Far from it. Beer guzzling and illicit drug consumption (only after we finished our homework) nestled among the almond orchards of Northern California was the order of the day back then.

Among the ringleaders of my circle of friends was the kind-of-out-there Brazilian exchange student Renato Reposo. Congenial, witty, soccer playing, friendly, exotic and always up for a good time – I was not even certain what academic program to which Renato was actually enrolled. But everybody loved hanging out with him.

I lost touch with Renato when I graduated Chico in 1981 (five year plan) and moved to New York. Ok, so a few years passed when I looked him up in August 2025 – I knew through mutual friends that he had moved back to Brazil.

I’ll be darned that I reached Renato on my first try. It was fun catching up. He has been married and living in Curitiba, State of Parana. These days he mostly body surfs and plays semi-professional Footvoley – a sport that blends aspects of soccer and beach volleyball, where players use their heads, chests, thighs, and feet (but not hands) to hit a soccer-style ball over a net. Originating in Brazil in the 1960s, it is played barefoot on a sand court, combining the no-hands rule of soccer with the court setup and scoring of beach volleyball.

Renato and I exchanged pleasantries and discussed old friends. I was disappointed that he no longer lived in Rio, but he casually mentioned that his cousin, Carlos Raposo, was a yacht broker and member in good standing at the biggest yacht club in Brazil. Ding! ding! ding! ding! the bells went off in my head, and it was not long until Renato had put us in touch with Carlos.
 

Above: In a style very typical of Brazil, once we met Carlos, the rest of the family was not far behind. From left to right…Me, Randall, Carlos, Carlos’s wife, unnamed boyfriend of Renato’s sister Isabella and on the far right is Cousin Adriana (who runs a travel agency that we used later that we later used).

Above Left: My favorite drink in the whole world – passion fruit and lime https://thesocialsipper.com/passion-fruit-caipirinha/#:~:text=Passion%20Fruit%20Caipirinha%20(Caipirinha%20de,variation%20of%20this%20Brazilian%20favorite. While the one above is non-alcoholic, but the Brazilians use either rum, or their “national” liquor Cachaça. Cachaça is often compared to rum because they share a sugar-based distillate, but cachaça is made from freshly-pressed sugarcane juice, while the vast majority of rum is made from molasses.

Above Right: Grilled hearts of palm with a pistachio sauce. Unbelievably delicious from the restaurant Joaquina (Copacabana Beach). The mini-shrimp burgers were out of this world. Randall went there two nights in a row. Jhttps://livemenu.app/menu/56c7775f0896b3cd13c60473?_ga=2.61544940.195346309.1756324026-1394687466.1756324025

Above: This tree grows all over Rio. It is called the Cannonball Tree, or better yet, Monkey-Apricot Tree. So called because humans cannot eat the fruit, but monkeys can. Also has magnificent bloom – https://weirdnature.quora.com/The-Monkey-Apricot-Tree

Above: You gotta love this – the national mens fragrance in Brazil is Zaad and it is targeted to sailors! I was instantly captivated by this retail display – you see it in every mall and store along the way. I showed this picture to Randall who focused on the ship in the upper left and determined that it is AI based, and is not anatomically correct. But I could not get Randall to buy the fragrance for his use on the boat!

Even more crazy, here is a description of their Zaad Arctic Eau De Parfum. “It is a men’s perfume that invites you to travel and experience the freedom of the unexpected. Our hero, Boticario set sail for Iceland to venture into the amazing landscapes of the Arctic in search of inspiration and found in the contrast of the landscape the way to create its new hit in men’s perfumery. In the land of ice and fire, he experienced the unpredictable, which inspired the creation of a unique fragrance that contrasts the freshness of glacial water and citrus notes with a touch of warmth and the strength of oak moss.” If this fragrance was not made for Randall and I, well, nothing else will do!

Above and Below: On our tour of Rio, Randall and I stopped at the local Jewish Community Center, known as, “Clube Israelita Brasileiro”. While the center had clearly seen better days, we still found it lively, inviting and friendly. Interestingly, most Jews in Brazil are of Sephardic decent having fled Spain and Portugal beginning in the 1600’s, and peaking in 1824 when the Brazilian constitution granted freedom of religion.

Above: Randall and I working through some unresolved issues in the ring – I discovered he has quite a deadly and painful left-hook. Even the local Kosher baked-goods have a regional flavor as we sampled the guava Rugelach.

Above: The Metropolitan Cathedral of San Sebastian. Designed in the 1960s, the cathedral is shaped like a grey mound and stands in the middle of the late modernist city centre. Despite its circular base, the form is meant to resemble Mayan step pyramids. Its’ interior is vast.

Above and Below: The Selarón Steps are a famous landmark created by Chilean artist Jorge Selarón to celebrate the Brazilian people and diverse cultures. The steps are a vibrant work of art featuring over 2,000 colorful, hand-painted ceramic tiles from around the world, with designs including images of a black pregnant woman, sports figures, and other tributes. As a work in progress by the artist (before his recent passing), he added new tiles and exchanged them with visitors, turning the 215-step staircase into an iconic, world-renowned tourist attraction connecting the neighborhoods of Lapa and Santa Teresa.

Above: These tiles dedicated to daughter Ulrika in Texas (and all you Texan blog readers).

Above: Three tiles from San Francisco made us feel right at home.

Above: What could be better than tiles from Israel? The Three Stooges of course!

Above: Way back in the day (1920’s), the Cinelandia neighborhood in the “center” of the city, with multiple cinema and theater houses in the old grand tradition, was the where fashionable families sought out their entertainment and leisure. Those days, unfortunately have long past, but one or two cinema houses still remain but are occupied by homeless.

Above: Adjacent to Cinelandia are more grand old buildings. Randall stands in front of the old Brazil Capital Building dating back to the days when Rio was the capital of Brazil. To the right is the Municipal Theater house which is still in operation. There are plans to convert nearby abandoned office buildings into modern residential

Above and Below: A longstanding tradition by young college students seeking admission into the fraternity of their choice is dressing up in a strange way and then asking for money from strangers (for the benefit of the fraternity). They were quite jovial. Coming from San Francisco, I was at first put off by their “pan handling”, but soon loosend up and made a proper donation to their cause.

Above: Have you ever had an Açai bowl? All the kids are having them, that is after they drink their macha and boba tea (not at the same time of course). While Brazil and Rio cannot lay claim to macha or boba, they are the originators of the mysterious Açai berry. https://www.nature.org/en-us/about-us/where-we-work/latin-america/brazil/stories-in-brazil/acai-the-roots-of-a-super-fruit/ The berry has no taste, so what I understand is that in the north they consume Açai unflavored, but in the south, they sweeten it as we Americans prefer.

Below: The Royal Portuguese Reading Room:

Above and Below: As the day was wearing on Randall and I were exhausted. Our guide then promised to take us to the “most beautiful library in the world”. I warned him not to build our expectations too high because at that point of the day, we were running on empty. Suffice to say, we were not disappointed as we found ourselves smack in the middle of the most beautiful library that I have ever seen. It was filled with historic Brazilian first editions and important literature. Randall is still a bit upset as he got “shushed” by the head librarian for speaking above a whisper.

https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/the-royal-portuguese-cabinet-of-reading-rio-de-janeiro-brazil

Above: Rio is filled with Favela’s. Calling them a slum is not fair or accurate but is the closest description I can offer in English. Tourists do not wander there – there are some walking tours, but they are not recommended and there is no police protection. They are “independently” managed by gangs. It is understood that 90% or more of the people living there are lovely law abiding citizens, with maybe 10% or so connected to the underworld. https://catcomm.org/favela-facts/

Above is a Google map screenshot of the Favela’s in Rio. Each color represents the gang that controls the Favela. Enough said.

Above and Below: No visit to Rio is complete without a visit to the statue of Christ the Redeemer. So iconic, so visible all over Rio.

Above: In just a few days, I was able to lose my sea legs, clean up the galley, organize my gear, have a quick tour of Rio and offer minor assistance to Randall as he prepares Mōli for her next leg. I will (finally) be able to run home by way of Sweden, and Randall will be on his way if a few short days as well. The dingy to take me to shore has arrived so I bid you farewell.

Randall and I thank you for staying with us and look forward to having you join us in just a just a few days as we get ready to leave Rio and head south to Uruguay, The Falkland Islands, Antarctica and the tip of South America. Will we make it to Cape Horn? We sure hope so, so please stick around to find out!