[pe2-image src=”http://lh3.ggpht.com/-BwRxrfZBcMw/VHcFmvlROsI/AAAAAAAAi9o/wBnS4C8PKWU/s144-c-o/IMG_0636.JPG” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/112133179186774955122/SouthAmericaSection3Stage20Brazil3SaoLuisToNatal#6086339584580467394″ caption=”Siesta time!” type=”image” alt=”IMG_0636.JPG” ]

Highlights: Windsheltered shady campsite at a beach restaurant
Lowlights: What a fucking wind…
Launch: low surf
Landing: Sheltered river beach
Pos: here
Loc: Camocim
Acc: tent
Dist: 40 km
Start: 5:00 End: 11:40

Besides the flying sand through my tent mesh and the hot sun I had not much to suffer at my beach camp at the end of busy Jericoacoacara. Few beachwalkers kept their distance, and I felt allright in my sweat.

But an hour before the sun was due to sink, a strange pilgrimage happend past my tent, up to the quite high pure white sand dune behind me. Hundreds of tourists and locals walked past my tent, climbed the dune in a mutual effort and party mood to watch the setting sun from the spectacular point. Some bar trailers got pushed up the dune with a bunch of men’s effort, not that people have to miss their chilled sundowner up there. I was watching the procession for a while out of my tent window, then decided to follow the mob up the dune for some pictures. And maybe to have a glance on some well trained and tanned surfer bodies…:-) I walked kind of backwards up the dune, always keeping an eye on my tent and boat in between the crowd. But a kayak obviously doesn’t count much with all those wind-, kite- and board surfers…despite all the stickers. I don’t mind NO attention for the change…

I was almost up the dune, when I saw a beach buggy stopping in the “carsbforbidden” zone right besides my tent, dumping two even from my high upndistance quite obvious to recognize policemen. Were they here to fine me for camping on the beach at this tourist area? I saw them taking position just besides my tent and kayak, no idea if they had tried to call me inside. I decided to leisurely climb back down, no hurry…

I approached them from behind, pulled out my best Portuguese/ Spanish and chatted friendly with the guys. But they were only positioned there because of the wandering crowd, not to kick me off my probably not allowed campsite, thank goodness…we are in Brazil! I walked up again to catch at least a bit of the party atmosphere, watched guys sandboarding the steep side of the dune, but mo real sunset happened behind the clouds. I was wondering to ask the drink vendor if he might be happy to sell me later some liters of fresh water, but opted to waiit until he came back down.

I was just back inside my tent, when. Group of British kite surfers took notice of my kayak on their way back, and I stuck mx head out for a friendly chat. I eventually dared to ask them if they may be happy to buy me some 20 liters of drinking water from the village, as I couldn’t really leave my tent alone to do so? Well, my female charme and trip seemed to have impressed the guys, and they really later came back already in darkness with even 27 liters, more than I really needed! Thanks a lot to myfour British helpers!

In between, thee local men with a car came also in darkness, stopped by my tent and I was instantly on the watch. But they amazingly really only wanted to move that floating pontoon of a wrecked boat just besides I was camping just NOW. Well, if it’s theirs and still of some use…they had to come back with a single axe trailer, and with the help of my four British barkeepers they were really able to move this shifting piece of wreck from the spot. On loading, the large thin plywood roof flew away in the strong wind, just a few meters besides my tent and kayak…there are some strange dangers on this trip! The wind flattering tent overdid. The noise of the village and beach drivers all night, no one really bothered me any more.

I could drag my now heavy kayak, full of fresh water, down to get afloat through some shallow small river with the help of an early fisher man, thanks a lot!

Paddling was as expected and already seen from the high dune. The quite big swell wave around Jericoacoara went down, so did the sea and surf. The wind breezed up strongly, but all easy going. Some rocky reefs to negotiate at low tide, even later in the about 10 km endless rolling waves of the shallows of the river mouth at Camocim I just had fun paddling close to shore with a wash every five seconds or such.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh3.ggpht.com/-2Ex-qSEIJ-g/VHcFbrsxm0I/AAAAAAAAi9o/QFpANHgub7c/s144-c-o/IMG_0631.JPG” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/112133179186774955122/SouthAmericaSection3Stage20Brazil3SaoLuisToNatal#6086339394559646530″ caption=”Shady camp at the Retaurant in Camocim” type=”image” alt=”IMG_0631.JPG” ]

I opted to find the best landing and camping shelter fully inside the river with strong current and wind driving me inside, and decided to stay on the eastern shore where I spotted some palm tree huts. They turned out not to be fishing huts, but the better paying business of a restaurant and windsurf spot on the calm safe shores of the river. The guys offered me a shady campside in an empty hut, thanks a lot! They even had a simple shower to offer, and I didn’t even need to use my newly bought own fresh water. I bought a cooled fresh coconut to drink, what a luxury, and spent a social afternoon chatting with some Italian windsurfers and a French long distance kitesurfing lady who just arrived from about 30 km down the coast in the strong wind. Not too bad! But she is going much faster than I am…

[pe2-image src=”http://lh3.ggpht.com/-fT6k3BLRsgk/VHcFcTv6gZI/AAAAAAAAi9o/TU2n_glcFiE/s144-c-o/IMG_0635.JPG” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/112133179186774955122/SouthAmericaSection3Stage20Brazil3SaoLuisToNatal#6086339405310230930″ caption=”Well…better not surfing at 25+ knots windspeed…” type=”image” alt=”IMG_0635.JPG” ]

The forecast is strong winds all next week, back to paddling only half a day until noon maximum when the tide has turned and it is becoming unfriendly for me. I am not a kite- or windsurfer…