New Year in Mindelo
The town of Mindelo
Mindelo is is a bit ramshackle and run down but it has enough colour and life in it to give it a buzz and a lively feel. The architecture is a mix of 19th century classical, early 20th century cheap brick adorned in fading pastel colours and late 20th century cheap in concrete and glass.
Colourful buildings along one of the streets in the city’s centre.
Built right to the narrow footpath and several stories tall, these buildings are set shoulder to shoulder along tight cobbled streets that host hurrying pedestrians and patient motorists. Here and there streets give way to small squares, graced by churches or official buildings overlooking the odd bench or tree.
Typical street scene in Mindelo: cobbled street and colourful buildings, with larger brick buildings around.
As is usually the case, the inhabitants of this city are a perfect match for their town. They are bright, cheery and very casual, and they live their national mantra of “no stress”. On the street they are a bit aloof but quick to respond happily if one makes an effort to interact.
Street vendors and shop assistants maintain a severe and disinterested look until you say something beyond the mere transactional necessities and then they are smiles and helpful. Well, they are usually helpful, we met quite a few customer service people who clearly thought that they were paid just to be present and nothing more.
More modern looking Mindelo, around Laginha beach.
A favourite was one of the women in the marina office who would respond to questions or requests with an impassive stare and neither answer nor fulfil them. Her boss sitting next to her would just ignore the situation. Classic!
Lost laundry
Another favourite of ours was the laundry lady at the Mindelo Marina, but for a different reason altogether. On arrival, all yachts are being approached by Elizabeth, the lady who has been doing, ánd losing, the laundry of Atlantic cruisers for years.
Some of the architecture and colours very much reminded us of the Dutch Antilles. No surprise, given the history of both places.
She welcomed us as well, and still being innocently unaware of her reputation, we agreed that she’d come back the next morning to pick up our washing. Which she did. Luckily, we had made a list of our laundry, because on return we ended up with more clothes than we’d given her but with fewer of our own than she had departed with!
One of the bus stops in town.
The next day, we notified her of the mix-up of laundries. Hugely embarrassed, she blamed her staff and vowed to kill them. Urging her to refrain from this, it was Christmas season after all, she calmed down and then proceeded to visit every single boat where she had picked up laundry the day before to sort out the muddle.
More colourful buildings in Mindelo.
To her credit, she found all our clothes, bar one towel, and also found the owners of all the clothes we had unwittingly received. Since then, she stopped by every day to have a quick and friendly chat.
The second time she did our laundry, she was at pains to ensure that we got all the correct washing back. Which luckily, we did.
We found Australia! On a globe in front of one of the University of Cabo Verde’s buildings.
New Year’s eve: ‘oliebollen’ and fireworks
While we were Santo Antão, our French neighbours had been replaced by a Dutch contingent from Rotterdam. On the last day of the year, these young folks followed Dutch tradition by frying what is called ‘oliebollen’ (a sort of doughnut without a hole), somewhat precariously (and certainly not part of this tradition) in a little alcohol burner on the floating pontoon. In return for helping them out with flour, we each got freshly-fried oliebol to enjoy in 30+°C – quite the experience!
Our neighbours from Rotterdam frying ‘oliebollen’ on a wobbly pontoon. What could possibly go wrong!
Strangely enough, a few hours later Frederieke started to feel rather fluey and got down with a high fever – an infected oliebol?
Yum!!
It being New Years eve, our neighbours followed another proud Dutch tradition of ‘look at us having a great time!’ by getting drunk, playing bad music, and singing along loudly, all to the surprise of flabbergasted neighbours up and down the pontoon. Frederieke, already feeling sick began to feel angry as well.
More buildings in the colours of the Dutch Antilles. Or is it the other way around?
Luckily, at 0000 o’clock the fireworks started and our neighbours quieted down a bit. David, knowing that Frederieke likes a bit of fireworks, fetched her out of bed and Mindelo did not disappoint. Then it was back to bed to start the New Year with a pretty bad flue.
Recovering from the Mindelo flu
Unfortunately, it took quite a few days of lying in bed to recover from a nasty, deep and productive cough, and even then, it took weeks to get rid of lingering coughs and tiredness. David had also felt somewhat odd during our days on Santo Antão. Plenty other sailors had picked up the same in Mindelo, with some getting sick during their crossing which would have been absolutely awful. Perhaps a total lack of sleep due to incredibly loud DJ-ing at nearby music stages for nights on end had something to do with it? Lucky for us, we both had the chance to recover before we left for Brazil.
Another typical street in the centre of Mindelo.
Preparing for our Atlantic crossing
Unlike us, Yuma at this point was in pretty good condition, and so we started to check for a good weather window to cross to Brazil. There were, howwevew, still a few things that needed attention. The main one was our AIS system, which had stopped working on day one of our crossing from the Canaries to Cabo Verde. This, after a very expensive so-called repair job on our VHF and AIS from RayMarine representatives on Gran Canaria, namely installing a new splitter and antenna, that had arguably made the situation worse. Bummer we only found out after we were already well on our way to Cabo Verde.
A good example of a ‘simple’ boat job. To replace a washer in the tap, we needed to pull apart the top of the basin to be able to unscrew the bottom of the tap.
The only chandlery shop in Mindelo was also a RayMarine dealer, so we decided to try again and get our AIS system fixed. This time the AIS itself was identified as the problem, was replaced (after a week of chasing up the technicians, ‘no stress’ alright…), and voilà, things seem to work again properly. Except that, on closer inspection, the wiring had not been connected up properly by the young (and uninterested) apprentice. At least, this time we were on to it; David rewired the system up correctly and argued (and got) a discount on the labour bill.
‘No stress, this is Cabo Verde’ dog lying in the middle of an intersection. We did not see any roadkill anywhere in Cabo Verde.
Pre-carnival celebrations
Happily, during the time of being sick and chasing up AIS repairs, there were also a few real ‘no stress’ happenings for us in Mindelo. One afternoon, we heard and followed the sound of drums to find a percussion band practicing for their pre-carnival parades.
Wicked, happy and loud drumming during one of the pre-carnival parades.
On a vacant block set between two blank brick walls, and with the bay and the setting sun behind them and a busy main street in front of them, they laid into their drums and bells with rhythmic precision and an energy that made it painful to listen to. They were great!
Young and old followed the percussion band through the city centre.
The next Sunday, we caught up with them again as they paraded through the town with a huge crowd of dancers through streets that were thronged with onlookers.
The crowd was being kept away from the percussion band by ropes and rope handlers.
Again, the sound was deafening to the point of being painful, but the whole crowd was high on the energy and it was a happy, sweaty press that followed them along their way.
The parade included ‘Mandingas’, people painted black, and wearing a variety of African looking decorations and implements. A local man told us this was Cabo Verdians making fun of their African friends. The internet tells us something different, so who knows what is behind this carnival tradition.
This got us right into the mood for the real Carnaval which we hoped to celebrate in Salvador (Brazil) from 12th to 17th of February!
Close-up of a Mandinga.
A weather window
Finally, with Yuma stocked up with provisions and both crew members healthy (enough) again, a weather window appeared that looked suitable to make our crossing from Cabo Verde to Brazil. We cleared both ourselves and Yuma out of Cabo Verde, and prepared for our last night in Mindelo Marina.
