Sailing north on their new boat, a pair of cruisers stumble upon a true paradise.
They arrive around mid-morning. A solitary motorboat cruises in, then two, then a dozen. Soon there is a steady line approaching over the horizon. They anchor stern-to along the beach, rafted up three, four and five rows deep. Soon the music starts, a jumble of competing rhythms. The nearby floating bar and restaurant compete for business, delivering drink and food menus as they buzz around from boat to boat. It’s Saturday, and the Brazilians have come out to play. -by Gordon Moon