Sailing Vessel Norango

While in Atuona, I happened to be standing on shore waiting for one of my dinghy chauffeurs to come pick me up, when the Gendarme pulled up in his pickup truck.  He showed me a clipboard which held a picture of a young family: father, mother, daughter.  I noticed the mother and daughter were Asian, and they all looked happy.  The Gendarme asked me if I had seen them or their vessel, Norango.  They left Panama City on Feb 18 bound for The Marquesas, and they have not been heard from since.  It’s now early April, so I can see why their friends and family would be worried.  I let him know that no, I hadn’t seen them, and yes, I would ask around among the other cruisers.  Then he drove away, which sort of surprised me since I seemed to be the only one he talked to. 

Fast forward to Fatu Hiva, when a small, well weathered, vessel seemed to limp into the anchorage.  We were all enjoying drinks on Lady Carolina at the time, and from my vantage point I couldn’t make out the entire boat name, but I thought in ended in “…ango.”  It took several minutes for that to sink in, and when I realized it might be the missing vessel, I started asking everyone else what they thought the boat name was.  No one had a terribly good look, so I decided to paddle over and talk to them. If it’s not them, then hey, I’m simply welcoming a new boat to the anchorage.

Of course, it turned out to be them.  They were David, Lynn, and Sianna (6 years old) and you could tell right away that they had been at sea a long time and that they were so happy to be there because they just soaked up my presence, the presence of another person, which they hadn’t had in so long.  We talked for quite a while with me on my knees on my paddle board, and I told them about the Gendarme looking for them.  They realized, yes, yes, everyone must be so worried about them, because unlike us, who transmit our position every 15 minutes via InReach and who send an e-mail via SSB radio almost daily, they did not have any means of long-range communication while at sea.  They would go to shore in the morning to notify the authorities of their arrival, but I offered to send emails to their families right then if they wanted me to.  I could just imagine how every night must be difficult for their loved ones not knowing their fate.

Once I made it back to Lady Carolina after stopping at Exodus to send those emails, I told Steve about them, and he right away headed over in the dinghy to invite them over, and apparently there was some reluctance on Lynn’s part, because David had already been imbibing much alcohol, but in the end, Steve talked her into it.  I think Siana was the happiest to come over.  Imagine a very social little 6-year-old girl at sea with her parents for 45 days.  She loved being with all the boys.  They let her play with the Legos and stuffed animals, and from the cockpit I could hear her constantly chattering away.  I felt happy for her.

We learned that they had, in fact, made landfall at The Galapagos hoping to take on fuel and water, but they were turned away by the Ecuador Officials unless they paid the outrageous landing fee.  They didn’t want to stay they just wanted to take on resources, but Ecuador still said no.  I guess they ended up getting water from another cruising vessel at some point.  Anyway, while the French Government was looking for them Ecuador made no report that they had stopped in The Galapagos.  So, that seems like a failure times 2 on the part of Ecuador.  First, turning away a vessel that is in need of resources is a safety issue, and the fact that they were turned away is negligence on the part of the Ecuador government, in my opinion.  Second, when contacted by the French government, they should have had some record of their visit to The Galapagos, no matter how brief, to report back.  Since The Galapagos was a planned stop for them, as far as anyone knew, they had never even made it there.  So, “Boo!  Boo, Ecuador, Boo!”