Cape Verde Is

Two-thirds of the Cape Verdeans are known as Creoles or mesticos, of mixed African and European ancestry. Crioulo, a dialect of archaic Portuguese, is spoken in the islands. Since many spoke some English, due to the tourist trade, we were able to mix in and the boys made some delightful friends.

A large number of Cape Verdeans have emigrated outside the country, because of the effects of frequent droughts, and the difficulty in finding work. The islands depend largely on food imports – much of it in the form of aid – to feed its people. In contrast, the islands are located in the midst of rich fishing grounds. In the morning hours, hordes of islanders hit the cobbled, city streets to bargain for the delicious yellow-fin tuna, skipjack, and wahoo fresh off the fishing boats after a night of fishing.

The islands children were especially friendly and delightful. They swam out to our boat to see Bella, ask for fresh water and snacks, or simply to play beneath our twin hulls on their floating rafts crafted from cooking oil bottles and onion sacks tied together.

On passage from the Canary Islands, the land scenery became even more barren and volcanic. It was obvious how difficult it was to cultivate the soil, as there is no renewable source of fresh water.

It was the Senegalese fishermen from mainland Africa, who first settled these islands, until the Portuguese came around 1456. Once the islands were declared a crown possession of Portugal, African slaves were imported from the African continent to cultivate the land. After gaining prosperity from European economic efforts, the islands became attractive to pirates and foreign raiders—English, Dutch, and French—who repeatedly attacked during the following centuries.

Dhows still ply ocean waters in trade, although the more modern ferries are more frequently used between the islands.

Warren and Adam befriended Lampar, local gallery owner in Sal, a Rastafarian from Gambia. His ready smile and warm nature made my heart swell everytime I ran into him in town, when shopping for fresh produce or hunting down the fish mongers. Lampar insisted the guys join him for lunch everyday in his studio, where women brought savory native dishes. Together, the gallery artists ate with their fingers out of the community bowl, then shared music CD’s, and played mancala - an ancient Egyptian mathematical games in which seeds, or other are moved around pits scooped out of dirt or wood.

Lampar imports exotic art and carvings from Senegal. He grew up in Gambia where his 22 family members resided in one large room without TV, cell phones, or running water. “The happiest childhood you can imagine!” he told me. One day his Italian wife gave him tongue for having misplaced his wedding ring for 2 days, which he had removed when playing the guitar in the local Friday night jump-up. “Ooh-la-la!” he laughed, when he showed me the lost ring, discovered hidden in the depths of his pocket.

'I'll take you to Gambia!" he replied, when I pressed him for lifestyle details in Africa. I so wanted to go up the Gambia river, just a short sail west, but the wrong way for heading back home, my guys said. Maybe next time, Lampar!

Sao Nicolau is a poor island, but you wouldn’t know by befriending the children, except they didn’t have money for clothes. To earn extra change, they helped carry our grocery bags, walked Bella, and managed our dinghy during our absence in town. A playful group, they searched the rocks for long periods once when Warren accidentally dropped loose change. When they paddled out to the boat on makeshift craft, Adam gave them water, and we gave them odd items on board, like pens, clothing, school materials, and food. Their laughter on shore continually rode the dusty breezes, bringing sweet music wafting over Scud.

En route to Sao Nicolau, we stopped at an abandoned beach to stretch our legs. Not wanting to launch the dinghy, we swam ashore and were delighted to find 7 turtle nests, still undisturbed. These majestic creatures swim thousands of miles to return to their nesting sites, while facing other survival challenges along the way. The beach was beautiful, waters crystal clear. I wondered if this must be what Pakistan looks like in the mountains. I was reading "A Thousand Splendid Suns", which seemed quite appropriate.

Warren ascended into the clouds atop a mountain for adventure and discovered a large osprey nest on the summit, minus chicks, fortunately, for the mother kept circling overhead, rather anxious. He said it looked like the moon from the top, and Scud quite tiny. I shot his photo from the boat with my telephoto.

An 'African Queen' look-alike was berthed next to a US warship, on patrol in Atlantic waters. Adam & Warren met the sailors on leave in town. Imagine taking the local ferry uprive in Gambia!

Pretty wooden homes are slowly being replaced by concrete block with a more Mediterranean flare, more suitable to the harsh environment.

Village women hung in the shadows of tall buildings down skinny alleyways hawking produce and fish during early morning hours, before the heat wilted salad greens. It was a pleasure to wander down the cobbled streets and chat with them in my broken Portuguese. Cats were ubiquitous, languishing in doorways, and alongside the street. Ever since Bella was attacked by a manic feline in Greece, she’s quite terrified of them now.