June 1, 2009 We are headed to the Gulf of Fonseca, a shallow bay shared by three countries; El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua. We had a long trip ahead of us as we left Bahia del Sol on our way to the gulf. 80 miles is too far to make it in a single day so we decided to head offshore and do a slow overnight passage. Even if we managed 6 knots, we wouldn't have arrived before midnight. 5 miles out of Bahia del Sol, we shut the engine down and tried to sail with a light 5 knot breeze. At 5 knots, the wind can't hold the sails full, so we deployed the spinnaker pole to hold the sail out taunt. The main was pulled into the centerline to help eliminate any rolling in the ocean swell. The swell was small at 1-2 feet and didn't give us any problem. We did have a small issue with the current. It was heading northward and we wanted to go south. Even with the breeze at our back, we found that we were heading the wrong direction, backwards, at 0.7 knots. We decided to do nothing about it, hoping the wind would build in strength later in the day, since we were in no hurry. After lunch, the wind did pick up and we actually started heading in the right direction. After an hour we had made up the lost ground and we sailed the rest of the day and on through the night. Last night was interesting, as all around us were lightning storms, the flashes filling the night sky with their brilliance and the thunder booming. We did make it through without any rain, which was nice. This morning we sailed across the opening of the gulf. The wind shifted during the night and was flowing out of the gulf at a steady 12 knots. We tacked across, nearly reaching Nicaragua before tacking back. We had an easy reach to the northwest corner of the gulf and headed in that direction. When we were near the halfway point, Richard and Virginia from Mandy hailed us on the radio telling us that they were just leaving the anchorage we were headed to. They tell us that the swell was coming into the anchorage, making it very uncomfortable, so they are heading further into the gulf to find a better anchorage. We decide to do the same. It is only going to add an hour or so to the trip. And after our overnighter, we don't want to rock back and forth uncomfortably in an open anchorage. We make our way behind Isla Meanguera. We are still officially in El Salvador and technically are illegally in the country at this point after having checked out in Bahia del Sol. There are no Port Captains or Immigration Officers in the area, excepting in La Union which is 20 miles further north, so we should be fine. We set the anchor and soon Mandy arrives and settles into the small bay as well. It doesn't take long before some local boys swim out to say hello to Mandy and us. They are quite friendly and we share some of our precious Skittles snack packs with them. It is their first time tasting the "Rainbow of fruit flavors" and one of them proclaims, "Mmm, rico!"
They invite themselves aboard and we allow it, a first for us. They do back flips off the side and explore the deck. A little bit later a panga comes by and the boys run to the front deck to dance and show off to their friends in the panga. I tell them its time to go as we are tired from our journey and they catch a ride back to shore. This is no made up excuse as we tidy up the boat and then crash below, despite the heat.
June 2, 2009 We had a return visit from the boys today. This time in a dugout canoe. They pulled along side Savannah and began to shuck oysters. They were preparing their lunch and had harvested the oysters earlier in the morning from the bay. One boy asked if I had a knife he could use and I gave him a fillet knife. He and the others cut out the meat from the oysters and then chopped some tomatoes, onions and squeezed limes into a bowl. I am making sound very efficient, but it was not. The boys kept having a problem staying in the canoe, meaning they kept jumping in and out. Then, one boy threw water at another one and made him drop the bucket full of oysters into the bottom of the canoe. Also, the hammer they were using to bust open the oysters was on the seat of the canoe. Every time someone would jump out or climb back in, the hammer would slide just to edge of the canoe before sliding back to the center. I was sure it was going to fall in, but it never did. What did fall in was my knife, of course. Right at the end, the boisterous kid threw water at the boy holding the knife and he dropped it into the water. Bye, bye knife. Kids. What can you do? Each boy was pointing at the other and I just laughed it off.
Richard is accommodating to us few cruisers who happen to drop by and allows us access to town through his hotel and he even gives us the password to his wifi. He might consider doing some advertising (and maybe offer a discount on food and drink) to cruising south bounders to try and lure others here. It is an ideal location for pushing off further into the gulf. Most (if not all) cruisers will by-pass the gulf completely on their way to Costa Rica. If you're interested you can find their web site at: www.hotellajoyadedlgolfo.com
Anyway, we meet Richard and Virginia, who had decided to eat lunch at the restaurant (they had shrimp which set a new record as the largest I had ever seen), and afterwards we walked into town. The town, really a village, is hilly with one main "street" that parallels the water with an occasional side road. It only takes us a few minutes to walk to the centro portion of town. While pausing at the newly constructed pier, we get joined by three local ninas (young girls). Virginia shares some hard candy with them and they follow us as we continue exploring. Virginia has another surprise for them later as she pulls from her purse a face painting kit. Each girl chooses which picture she wants and we all watched as Virginia performed her magic. The girls were quite pleased with the end result and they followed us all the way back to the hotel taking the time to show off their face art to all who would look. I asked them if they knew Richard and Rina's daughter, Rachel, at the hotel (their age) and they indicated that they did. Once we arrived however, they seemed to become quite uncomfortable. It is our guess that the hotel is now considered owned by foreigners or "outsiders" and there is a certain stigmatism that is associated with it. Just a guess, however and it could have been a social class issue as well. Whatever the issue was, the girls who were previously so engaging immediately departed.
June 3, 2009 Mandy decided to explore a nearby island and left the anchorage mid-morning. We make some plans to meet up with them at Isla del Tigre the following day. We want to go snorkeling around the island and maybe do some spear fishing if conditions are right. We wait for high tide to approach and head out to the nearby point. Visibility is poor, but we make a go of it. Not much to see, and if there was we couldn't see well. After a quick swim, we decide to just go for a dinghy ride and drive around the island before returning to Savannah.
June 4, 2009 We pull up anchor around ten in the morning. It is a very calm morning and we will have to motor the eight miles to the Isla del Tigre anchorage. Usually the winds come from the east in the morning and then switch around to blow from the west during the early evening hours. This morning we get neither an easterly nor westerly to make our way north. We head along the coast of Isla Meanguera keeping a close eye on the depth sounder. The entire inside portion of the gulf is very shallow and sometimes you will have to sail in less than 15 feet of water as you make your way from anchorage to anchorage. The chart plotter is showing our location accurately so that provides us a bit of relief. Shortly after leaving the anchorage, we get a call on the radio from Virginia on Mandy telling us that they are on their way. We respond with the same and we spot them ahead coming from Isla Conchaguita. They are a bit ahead of us respectively and will arrive at the Isla del Tigre anchorage first. When we round the corner and arrive at Amapala, they have just finished dropping their anchor and the Port Captain is already along side Mandy. We take our time finding our spot and drop our anchor as well. 15 minutes later, Richard rows the Port Captain to Savannah (he was delivered to Mandy by a panga taxi). After the Port Captain is aboard, Richard says that it cost him two beers and two q-tips. Puzzled, I turn to deal with the Port Captain myself. We start off by having a small problem, our Zarpe (exit) paperwork has Playa del Coco, Costa Rica listed as our destination. We had anticipated this and simply explained that we had changed our mind about where we were going. The Zarpe is really designed for commercial vessels and not for us wayward cruisers. A commercial vessel goes from point A to point B. If it somehow shows up at point C, there had better be an excellent reason, like the engines blew up or the Captain has died. Something Big has gone wrong. Not so with us. Hey, why don't we go to Honduras instead of Costa Rica? Why not? It's just right over there. So Port Captain Moreno suggest that we whiteout Costa Rica and fill in Honduras. As Jodie scrambles looking for a bottle of whiteout, which we don't have by the way, I offer Captain Moreno a soda. I pour the soda into a glass of ice (important later) and return below to offer Jodie help. We decide since we don't have whiteout, we would tape a piece of white paper over the Costa Rica line and scan and print a new document. Jodie takes care of that while I go keep Captain Moreno occupied. Jodie quickly returns with the freshly printed Zarpe and a plate of assorted cookies. We set the plate next to Capt. Moreno and go through some other formalities. He explains that the Immigration Officer is not in today, but will be in tomorrow, so we'll need to come to their office on the pier tomorrow morning to take care of immigration. I then reach over to the cookie plate and pick one and proclaim, "These are my favorite!". Capt. Moreno says, "That's ok." Giving me permission for stealing one of his cookies, I guess. Jo and I found it quite humorous secretly.
Then Capt. Moreno asks us if we could take his picture. Uh, sure. But he doesn't have a camera, does he? Nope. So we get ours and take a few in the cockpit. I decide to have a little fun and say, "Lets go forward and take some more!" Capt. Moreno on the bow. Capt. Moreno and Jodie sitting on the cabin top. Capt . Moreno with Isla del Tigre in the background. I even have him take a picture of us. Turns out he did a pretty good job.
Finished with paperwork and pictures, I take Capt. Moreno back to his office and head back to Savannah. We wanted to re-anchor to the other side of the pier and make short work of the task. Turns out Mandy never did get their anchor set before the Port Captain showed up and they re-anchor on the same side as us. We head over to Mandy and pick up Richard and Virginia to go ashore. They elaborate on their experience with the Port Captain during the ride ashore. Richard's story: He (the Port Captain) showed up along side before they had a chance to set the hook. So they just left it lying on the bottom while they dealt with him. Then he went below to do a safety inspection. He wanted to see their life preservers and binoculars. Did they have charts? Then he began to open cupboards and even dug around in their bathroom and pulled out two q-tips. One he placed in his shirt pocket, the other he used to clean his ears. Richard aghast tried to compose himself and then offered Capt. Moreno a beer, which he accepted. Richard reached in the fridge and pulled out two beers, one for each of them, to which Capt. Moreno chimed, "Both for me?" And then he promptly took each and placed them in his bag. Which made me wonder what he would have done if I had just handed him a can of soda instead of a glass. He then proceeded to have them modify their Zarpe like ours, in this case Virginia whiting out Nicaragua and writing in Honduras. Then Richard rowed him over to our boat. They had such a different experience than the one we had. We venture into the town of Amapala. Amapala was briefly the Capitol of Honduras back in 1873 and the major Pacific port. Much has changed and the port at Amapala has been replaced by the modern port located at Puerto Henecan, 24 miles further inland.
After a quick cursory walk through town, we return to the pier and eat at a seaside restaurant and enjoy a couple of the county's finest cervesa, Imperial. That's plenty of excitement for today and we head back to Savannah after dropping off Richard and Virginia.
June 5, 2009 We go ashore at 9:30 a.m. to deal with immigration, only to find that they are not there. We decide to go for a walk around the western portion of the island. It is a two mile walk to Playa Grande, the location of the "Mermaid cave". This cave is reputed to be an old hideout for pirate's back in the 1800's. I'm doubtful we will find any treasure, just a lot of bat guano. We manage to only get lost and backtrack once before finding the road out of town. When we reach Playa Grande, it resembles a bit of a ghost village (town really can't apply here). Many empty "stalls" and only one working restaurant (and, of course, garbage all over the beach). We walk up the wrong road to find the cave and end up at a residence instead. Some workers there pointed us in the proper direction and we went on our way. But not before playing with some puppies that lived there.
When we find the cave entrance, we are bummed (and a bit relieved) that we can't reach the entrance due to the high tide. We walk the road back to Amapala and get some lettuce and eggs from the market before returning to the pier. Still no immigration, so we head back to the boat.
Crazy tree covered with vines.
June 6, 2009 Richard and Virginia departed today. We happened to come ashore as they were dealing with the Port Captain. When trying to get their Zarpe from the Port Captain, he indicated that there was a 50 lempira ($2.50) fee. Since they had already spent the last of their Honduran money, Richard pulled out a 5 dollar bill and the Port Captain said, "Change for me?" With no other option, Richard handed over the five. We say our goodbyes and make some plans to meet back up in Costa Rica sometime. Our plan today is to head inland to the port town of San Lorenzo. Not for any particular reason, just to explore. We wait at the pier for more people to arrive to travel to the nearby fishing village of Coyolito where we can catch the bus to San Lorenzo. All we need is for two more people to show up and we can go. But no one is coming down the pier. After a couple minutes, the port Captain calls us into his office. It seems that he filling out our Zarpe and has a few questions. He had assumed that since Mandy was leaving, we were leaving as well. We tell him that we aren't leaving today and he points to the date already typed out on the Zarpe form. Nope, not today we say. Flustered he tells us its o.k. and he seems at a loss here. Can't he just throw it away and fill out a new one? Is he out of forms? Captain Moreno then asks us if we have his pictures. Pictures? Ahh. The pictures we took when we arrived. I look around and spot a computer in the corner under a plastic cover. I gesture to it and Captain Moreno points at the monitor and says, "Broken". It looks new, the LCD monitor, and the computer look less than a year old, a Dell with DuoCore2 processor. He powers it up and the computer won't boot. I spend the next fifteen minutes tearing apart the computer and poking around inside. It appears that it's the motherboard that has an issue. There is also something strange in the wiring as the heat sink fan doesn't seem to have a power source available for it. I put it back together and throw up my hands. We go back outside and there still isn't anyone waiting to go across to the mainland. I decide that we will just head over in our dinghy since the conditions are very calm on the water. We drive the dinghy across the channel and head east two miles to Coyolito where we can catch the bus to San Lorenzo. We arrive at Coyolito's boat ramp and a local boy comes out to help us disembark. We place him in charge of watching the dinghy while we are away and after a comida lunch, we go out to the bus.
While
waiting at the bus, we see a panga arrive from Amapala ferrying some
passengers. Jodie engages one of the passengers in conversation
and she comes over to us (we are waiting at the rear door of the bus)
and we introduce ourselves. Ashley is a Peace Corps volunteer
stationed at Amapala. She has been at Amapala for three weeks and
is looking forward to helping the residents of the island during her
two year assignment there. The bus departs and a short 45 minutes later we arrive at San Lorenzo after traveling through some low lying lagoons and farmlands. There isn't much to see in San Lorenzo and we spend an hour walking through the centro portion of town, stopping at the mercardo and a grocery store for a few items.
We jump back on the bus and arrive in Coyolito a couple hours before dusk. When we walk down to the boat ramp, we see our dinghy has been lifted up out of the water and placed on the ramp. Seems that while we were away, the wind and swell picked up considerably, smashing our dinghy up against the side of the concrete ramp. The main problem was that I had locked the dinghy to a pole before leaving. So even though I had someone watch it, they couldn't move the dinghy to safety due to the lock. He did his best to keep it from slamming into the ramp wall, but the motion of the swell jerked the security cable taunt over and over till it ripped out of the hull floor. At that point he and several other fishermen and locals pulled it out of the water onto the boat ramp. They must have just pulled it out before we arrived because it still had quite a bit of water in it, which the boy who was watching it was scooping out. I quickly thanked all who had helped saving our dinghy. It had a jagged one inch hole in it, but it could have been much, much worse. We still have a dinghy; one that is easily repairable and an engine that didn't go swimming. Many cruisers refuse to pay someone to watch their dinghy. But we figure that a dollar (or even as little as 50 cents) is good insurance on a two to three thousand dollar item. Now I'm convinced that it's a solid investment. And never again will I lock the dinghy if there is a young boy or girl willing to spend an afternoon watching it. We wait for the wind and waves to calm before making the crossing back to Amapala. We also move the fuel tank to the rear of the dinghy to keep the nose up high and dry. It is impossible to sink the dinghy as long as the tubes remain inflated, but full of water, it doesn't motor well. After an hour, things settle down and we cross back. We haul the dinghy on deck and will repair the hole tomorrow.
June 7, 2009
We give the dinghy a couple hours to finish curing and then head into shore to visit the Port Captain. We had printed out a couple of the pictures we took of him and wanted to give them to him as a gift. Truth be told, we were trying to find a way to avoid paying any exit fees like he had imposed on Mandy. And we thought maybe this little gift would go a long way towards that end. When we presented the pictures to him, we indicated that when we traveled to San Lorenzo we printed them out for him. The ploy worked and we received our Zarpe without any exit fee. The ironic thing is that we will never use this Zarpe. Immigration never did show up to stamp our passports and we also didn't get a crew list from the Port Captain. These two missing items might be a red flag when we check into Costa Rica, a country known for being sticklers for paperwork, so we will just use our exit Zarpe from El Salvador when we arrive in Costa Rica. Richard and Virginia are in the same situation as us and it will be interesting to see what they decided to do about checking into Nicaragua.
June 8, 2009 We prepare to leave Amapala and wait for the wind to fill in a little before pulling up the anchor. It is coming from the east, like it has most mornings that we have been here. Before we leave, a panga shows up and drops off Capt. Moreno. It looks like he wants to give us a gift in return for the pictures we printed out for him. He has brought us a seashell sculpture in the shape of a dog. A Pekinese dog to be precise. It was something he obviously purchased in the past and he thought we would like it. Well a gift is in the giving and of course we like it. It's quite humorous when put in perspective with how he treated Mandy. He asks for a pen and I hand him a Sharpie so he can write "Amapala, Honduras" on the front of the sculpture. On the underside he writes "Captain Saul Moreno". We talk for a bit over coffee and some more cookies, and then he says he must return to the office. He flags down a panga and catches a ride back to the pier. Shortly after, we pull up anchor and sail downwind to Isla Conchaguita, 7 miles to the southwest and back to El Salvador. We anchor off the beach, at the rear of the island to protect us from any swell that might come into the gulf. From the boat, Conchaguita looks much the same as many of the cities here in the gulf. Pangas lined up on the beach just above the high tide line. Homes are strewn along the steep hillsides. And sadly, litter lining the beach is easily seen from the boat. Not in any hurry to go ashore, we spend the remainder of the day relaxing aboard Savannah. One group of teenagers come out in a dugout and exchange greetings but the rest of our day is spent in private.
June 9 - 10, 2009 We go ashore to explore the little fishing village on Conchaguita. Children meet us at the beach and show great interest in our inflatable dinghy, poking at the tubes with their fingers. They follow us around and in a short while, lose interest in us. The village has no roads, only concrete and stone pathways that lead along the beach and wind there way up though the homes. There are no restaurants or shops, just an occasional home that might have a small selection of chips or soda for sale. Many homes have domed ovens outside for baking bread. We walk up the hill and loop back to the beach. There are cows tied up in many of the yards around town and the sidewalks are covered with their droppings. We have to take care to watch our step when walking along.
Back aboard Savannah, we decide to return to Isla Meanguera to access some weather forecasts for our run down to Costa Rica. The wind is coming from the southwest and we will be able to sail the short eight miles in a couple hours. We anchor again in front of Hotel La Joya del Golfo, this time a little closer into shore. When we set the anchor and assess where we end up, we aren't completely happy. The current had pulled us closer to shore before the anchor hit the bottom and stoppped us. As a result of this, I keep the rode a little short to give us a little more room. The conditions have been very calm the last several nights so we figure we are fine for a night and can re-anchor if we feel it necessary tomorrow. Things are calm as we go to bed around 10 p.m., with a full moon and a sky full of stars. Just before 2 a.m. however, some rain starts to fall, waking us up. We had left the boat wide open, so sleepy eyed we go about shutting hatches and ports. Within minutes the wind goes from nothing to 15 knots. Then the rain really starts to come down and the wind starts howling. Being close to shore, we go outside for a quick look as the wind continues to build. It looks like we are even closer to shore and Jodie says that she thinks we are dragging. I agree and I tell her turn on the instruments and start the engine. In the dark, with only brief flashes from lighting, it's hard to ascertain what is actually going on. With the GPS chart plotter, it becomes clear. We are slowly moving backwards towards the rocky shoreline. The chart plotter tracked us as we set our anchor earlier and we can see our current position away from that location. I zoom in tight with the plotter and begin a dance that will last another 40 minutes. The wind instrument is showing steady 28 knots with gusts to 32. I engage the motor and push us forward into the wind, taking the pull off the anchor rode. As the wind pushes the nose off, I turn the wheel to bring us back around pointed into the wind. I repeat this process over and over as the wind keeps veering from left to right. Many times we would end back with the chain taunt and lose a little ground before moving her forward again. It turned into a game of damage control, sometimes letting the chain tighten to straighten us out and then motoring forward to gain some breathing room. These squalls don't tend to last long, and if it was an actual storm we would had pulled up the anchor. But there is an inherent danger when trying to move about on a pitching deck. Savannah didn't lose too much ground in the next 40 minutes and then the wind began to shift to the west and diminish in strength. Savannah's trail on the chart plotter was a massive echa-sketch traced clown smile reflecting our path during the squall. After another 10 minutes we were left with choppy water and 3 "“ 4 knots of shifting wind. We had managed to dodge yet another mishap that was of our own creation. When you're not happy with where you are anchored, MOVE! And that is exactly what we did the next morning. We awoke to find ourselves 100 feet from shore, having drug perhaps 50 feet during the storm. We reanchor in almost the exact same place that we were in during our first visit. Of course, we let out plenty of chain this time. We go ashore in the afternoon to give our legs a stretch. Coraje, Richard and Rina's dog, decides to accompany us as we head out of the hotel. He is well behaved and he sticks close by as we walk away from town along the only road. The road meanders through homes and leads up and away from the shoreline. Shortly we pass by the town's football field. There are 30 or so players out on the field warming up and we sit on the sidelines and observe. Coraje can't seem to stop bothering another dog by staying out of the others area and the owners have to keep shushing their dog to stop him growling. We decide it is time to go to prevent Coraje from antagonizing the other dog further. We continue up the road till it becomes a cattle trail. It leads around the southern portion of the island and we continue forward till it climbs up to a dramatic peak at the south tip of the island. The view of the neighboring mainland is spectacular, blue sky and sea, green hills climbing to become mountains. Also, the Farallones de Cosiguina Islands lie a short distance away. The Farallones aren't really true islands because they weren't formed but rather they are what is left of a massive chunk of earth. The islands are the remains of the Cosiguina volcano that blew its top 60 miles away in 1835. The mountain top was blasted off during an eruption and landed in the shallow gulf waters. Maybe the water wasn't quite that shallow before the eruption either. Who can say how much of the sea floor underneath us was deposited during that eruption?
When we return to the hotel we meet Lauren. Lauren is staying on the island as part of the "Travel to Teach" program. She will be here a month instructing the local children on conversational and basic English language skills. Lauren, a theatrical art major at Oklahoma, has devoted her time and her own money into this effort to educate the islands children. Another squall passed through tonight. This time however the winds only topped out at 25 knots and the chart plotter showed us nailed down in one spot. The only thing I was thinking of during this one was how to best capture the water flowing down the deck into the water tank openings.
June 11-12, 2009 Isaac (Richard and Rina's son) and Lauren came out in a kayak to visit us today. We showed them the boat layout, systems and generally overwhelmed them. We find out that Isaac would like to become a chef. This would fit nicely into the hotel scenario. He and his brother Arturo hope to run the hotel after their parents leave El Salvador to return to the States. Richard wants to place Rachel, their youngest child, into a more formal education system once she reaches junior high. It seems that the island school is below even normal El Salvadorian standards in education. Lauren can attest to this and she indicates that there is no discipline or structure to the schooling system. The children come and go as they please, as there is no governmental requirement that they even attend school. Even the teacher's hours vary from day to day. Both Mondays and Fridays are half days to allow the teachers time to travel from the mainland to the island. So Mondays and Fridays tend to be optional for the children, with many choosing not walk the two hour trip (each way) around the island for a three hour instruction period. Some days the children arrive and are told simply that there is no school that day. This haphazard system is the reason that Richard and Rina plan to return to the States for Rachel to finish school. The next day, Jodie and I decide to visit Lauren at the school. We arrive to find a closed campus. Several students and one adult are waiting at the locked gate. When we arrive and look into the school grounds, an administrator quickly approaches and opens the gate for us. We ask where Lauren is teaching and are pointed the way. Lauren is currently with her fourth grade class. The room is hot, having no air conditioning or fans. She greets us with a warm smile and lets us know how happy (and surprised) she is that we came to her class. She continues on with the lessons and it's immediately obvious that she has an excellent rapport with them. She is also quite good at giving the children English instruction and fulfilling her role as teacher. If we didn't know that she was a theatrical art major, we would easily assume she had a libel art degree and that teaching was her passion. She even gets Jodie into the lesson by involving her in a greeting exercise.
We stay for a couple classes, the next group being second graders and depart during one of the period breaks. Once again the gate is locked (with another small group waiting) but our presence is a bit of a novelty and the gate gets opened for us immediately. We stop at a small store for some vegetables and head back to the hotel. When we arrive, Richard is down by the waters edge cleaning his mornings catch. He has caught two needle nose fish, and as he cleans them, an eel appears and swims around his ankles. He jokes that the eels sense of smell is good but his eyesight is poor and he has been bitten in the past by him. But it has been awhile since he has been bit and he tosses the needle nose fish guts to his "pet" eel. We say our goodbyes as we plan to depart for Costa Rica tomorrow. The Gulf of Fonseca has been a nice change from the estuary that we had been staying in. It also gave us a hint of the power of the thunderstorms that we will be encountering. More room and more rode will be our motto when anchoring from now on in Central America.
June 13-15, 2009 We leave Isla Meanguera with a northerly breeze that allows us to sail on a beam reach out of the Gulf. The sun is out and we have clear skies with thunderheads in the distance over the mainland. But all is well during our departure. During the last few days, I had noticed that some of our anchor rode markers had dropped off. I took advantage of the good conditions to haul the chain out on the deck and re-apply the missing markers. I have yet to find a perfect solution to marking the chain. First was the store bought markers. Those lasted about six months. Then I used red electrical tape. That didn't last long at all. Lately I have been using white duct tape and it seems to last around two months before coming apart. Many cruisers use paint to mark the chain, but I don't like the idea of paint chips filling my bilge. So this time I plan on using colored zip ties to mark the distances. (Every 30 feet there is a mark of one kind or another.)
We go through the normal formalities with our Zarpe and passports. A quick walk-thru the boat and they depart. The whole on board inspection took less than ten minutes and the Nicaraguan Navy was pleasant and professional throughout the entire process. Heading out of the Gulf, we turn further southeast and run parallel with the shore, keeping a distance of 8 to 10 miles. There are many thunderstorms around us and it is only a matter of time before we get caught by one of them. The wind gets a bit fluky, gaining and losing strength and clocking around as the storm cells pass over us. There really is nothing we can do to avoid them completely, but we try to steer our way past as best we can during the day. As night falls, the storms gain in strength and number with bright flashes of lighting illuminating the sky. We put a reef in the main, shortening the sail. Also, the heasail is out halfway and the mizzen is raised. We sail under this configuration for many hours, hunkered down under the dodger to try and keep dry from the intermittent rainfall. It is during my midnight to 3 a.m. watch that a violent cell catches us. The wind was a steady 11 knots when it quickly rose to 16, then 22. The boat began to heel over with the increase in wind and Jodie came out to see what was going on as the wind suddenly rose to 30 knots. I released the headsail sheet and pulled the roller furling line to bring in the sail. Jodie shouted over the wind what should she do and I shouted back to spill the main as the rail dipped into the water. She quickly eased the mainsheet till the mainsail began to flog and Savannah leveled out somewhat from the 45 degrees that she was heeling over. I finished hauling in the roller as much as I could, there was a problem somewhere and the lower corner of the sail is just sticking out off the roller. That's good enough for now as the wind has increased to 37 knots. From 11 to 37 in two minutes. We have never experienced this before but have little time to think about that as we turn our attention to the mizzen. With the two of us working to drop the mizzen, it goes down quickly and I lash the sail onto the boom. We now sheet the mainsail in till it stops flogging. Then Savannah does something completely unexpected. Jodie had turn the wheel hard over to point the nose into the wind (She said I shouted to do it at some point, which I don't remember), and left it that way when she went to help me with the mizzen sail. Now with the main on the downwind side of the boat and the rudder hard over, Savannah just sat there in 30+ knots of wind. She wasn't rounding up into the wind, and she wasn't falling off either. We had, by pure accident, "hove-to". A quick check of the GPS showed us drifting downwind at 0.8 knots. All motion seemed to have stopped and we now had time to catch our breath. With it being dark (it was 2 a.m.) we decided to just wait the storm out hove-to and change the sail plan in the morning. By 4 a.m. the storm had passed by and Jodie started the engine to motorsail till sunrise. When I came out at 6, I went forward to see just what had gone wrong with the roller furling system. What I found is a phenomenon I have dubbed "Sponknot", as in spontaneous knots. When the sheets (rope, line) were released in the 30 knot winds, they fluttered, twisted and whipped themselves into knots. In the daylight, it was easy enough to follow the line and untwist the knots and finish rolling the headsail up. And with it also being morning, we unrolled it completely and raised the main sail fully and shut down that darn engine. It had been a rough night and we weren't looking forward to another. But there was no anchorage to take refuge in along the Nicaragua coastline so we had little choice in the matter. We sailed all day and did our best to catch up on lost sleep. A few rain showers hit us during the day, but nothing like the previous 24 hours. Jodie asks if I want to try a 6 hour on, 6 hour off schedule for the night instead of our usual 3 on, 3 off. What the heck, lets give it a try. Nothing sucks worse than getting woken after 2 and half hours of sleep. We will try it and see if the different schedule helps us get more rest. Six hours is a long watch as I discover during my 6 p.m. till midnight duty. After the fourth hour I begin to do the catnap routine; popping my head up every 16 minutes when my watch chimes. The night is a much better one, with thundershowers far off in the distance. There are even clear spots, stars shining through. I wake Jodie at midnight and she has a peaceful watch. Though it was a little bit wetter for her and I find her bundled into a little ball inside her windbreaker at 6 a.m. We can see the Costa Rican mountains in the distance as we tack back and forth, trying to gain entrance into the bay which we will call home for the next few days. After three hours, we are so close to the opening we can taste it, we fire up the engine and motor the last 6 miles, entering the bay just after noon. We are alone in the bay, not a big surprise as this is just a rest stop anchorage, and the scenery is beautiful. So many shades of green color the hillsides around us. We anchor at the far end of Santa Elena Bay, off a mangrove estuary. Engine off, our senses are filled with the color and sounds of the rainforest. Hello, Costa Rica!
We feel good, not the normal wrung out feeling from an overnight passage, and we attribute it to the six hour watch schedule. We put away the sails and set up shades and settle down for the remainder of the day. For dinner tonight is some fresh dorado that we caught just hours ago outside the bay. For now, things couldn't get any better.
June 16, 2009
We spend a little over an hour at the reef and surrounding area before I hear Jodie cry out. I pop up to see her swimming back to the dinghy in a hurry. Not knowing what the cause for alarm is, I high tail it back as well. Jodie had gotten hit by a loose jellyfish tentacle and had a string of stings that wrapped halfway around her leg. The burning sensation was intense and she was in quite a bit of pain. We head back to the Savannah, knowing that there isn't much we can do. The treatment for stings is rather severe, soaking the stings in vinegar for 30 minutes and then coating the area with cornstarch or mud (to absorb the toxins) and scraping the area with a razor blade. Jodie decides that she will just tough it out. The rest of the day she will have nerves firing off pain signals in different parts of her body as her body deals internally with the toxins. Certain types of jellyfish carry the oceans most deadly toxins and can kill a man in less than 30 seconds. Some grow as large as 6 feet in diameter and have tentacles that are as long as 120 feet. These tentacles are nearly invisible and can number in the thousands per jellyfish. Turtles are their main predators and are immune to their toxins. They eat only the main body however, and the tentacles are left behind to drift on the currents. It was one of these drifting hazards that Jodie encountered. Many people wear wetsuits when snorkeling and diving in these warm waters just to help avoid the stings. Jodie seems to be unlucky, as she has been stung several times in the past year. I may have turtle blood in me. Late in the afternoon, the wind clocks around (its always moving around down here) and blows us back towards the rear of the bay. We had anchored in 24 feet of water, but we have swung into a shallower region. I take notice when the steering wheel begins to have a life of its own, little movements back and forth. We turn on the depth sounder and it shows 10 feet. But the sensor is in the forward 1/3 of the hull. So there must be an underwater bank that is rising under us. I pull out our line that we had used this past summer when the old depth sounder quit working and drop it over the back deck. The line passes through my hand and it doesn't even get to the first knot. Each knot represents 6 feet. The tide still has another foot or so to drop and we could be blown back further still if the wind increases. That means re-anchor. Which is what we do and it only take us ten minutes to move a little further out into the bay.
June 17-18, 2009 We spend a couple days relaxing and hanging on the boat. We did get visited by the Costa Rican Navy at midnight. I just happened to be awake, so I saw them coming. Jodie was asleep and almost came out with the machete in hand. The normal procedure followed with Zarpe, passports and crew list. Then the leader of the group (six in all, four aboard Savannah), began to search the boat by opening various drawers in the galley and forward V-berth, including the refrigerator and freezer. He just gave our rear room a quick glance and then gave us a warm, "Bueno, muchas gracias." He climbs out and some of the other officers shake my hand before departing. It was quick, but the timing was a bit odd.
June 19, 2009
We find the stream and begin walking up the creek bed that will lead us to the waterfall. Now we really have to be careful as help is a long ways away. The rocks in the stream are slippery, covered with a thin layer of algae, so we try to stick to the dry rocks on the sides as much as possible. A gentle rain turns into a short lived downpour, making all the rocks slippery. We find the waterfall without incident. A small waterfall feeds a small swimming hole. The erosion marks show that quite a bit of water can and does pass through here. The water is clear, cool and refreshing. Best of all, it doesn't contain salt. Fresh water is the best!
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This
change is apparent as you walk around the town. Many buildings
are run down and vacant. Even the plaza in the center of town is
neglected, its fountain gone dry. It's quite sad really.
The island is beautiful with lush green vegetation and trees covering
the volcanic mountain. Located near the peak of Isla del Tigre is
an abandoned CIA post and one can walk the trail, a mighty 2500
vertical feet above sea level. Not for the timid. Once you
get to the top, you are greeted with a majestic panoramic view of three
countries, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua. Or so we have
been told. It's way too hot to climb anything other than a
barstool.
I
fixed the dinghy using some techniques that I had picked up at the boat
yard back in Ensenada. To do the repairs, I flip the dinghy over
and work from the bottom. I first cut around the jagged hole that
was left when the double sided pad eye was ripped out. The one
inch hole becomes a clean two inch hole. Then I grind the holes'
edge on the bottom side of the hull, flaring it out about a
centimeter. This way from the top of the hull floor to the
bottom, I will apply larger and larger diameter pieces of fiberglass to
fill the void. Think of a truncated V. The tapered repair
will add strength to the entire patch area so that any water pushing on
it will press the patch up against the original hull material.
I'm using five minute epoxy to bond each layer of fiberglass fabric and
the repair proceeds quickly. Cutting patches as I go, I end up
with eight layers of fiberglass material. Finished with the
fiberglass portion of the repair, I sand the rough edges and then apply
gel coat to seal the entire repair. I don't have any white
coloring agent to tint the gel coat, but I'm happy with the
result. While I'm at it I patch a couple wear spots on the
bottom. Here is a picture of the repair, looking at the bottom of
the hull with the pad eye repositioned a couple inches to the rear.
