| PACIFIC CENTRAL AMERICA |
The Panama Canal (January 2009) - We left Shelter Bay Marina on a Monday afternoon about five p.m. During the prior few days
we had hired an agent (Stanley, whom we would recommend) to handle all our dealings with the Canal Authority, the Port Captains (you
have to get a Zarpe from Colon to Balboa and a Zarpe for leaving the country) and Customs and Immigration (you need your passport
stamped to exit the country). Stanley also arranged for lots of tires wrapped in trash bags (to keep most of the black marks off your hull),
the required four 125 foot lines and line handlers. We had discretely asked around the marina for any experienced line handling cruisers
and found only one who was interested and had been through several times. You can find lots of volunteers with no experience. Some
cruisers don't mind inexperienced line handlers, but we did not want to take that risk. Anyway, Stanley arranged for three line handlers who
had been through hundreds of times. Just what we wanted.
From Shelter Bay, we motored three or four miles over to the small boat (any boat smaller than the big commercial ships) staging area at
the Flats anchorage. Our advisor would meet us there around six. We would just motor around for awhile instead of dropping anchor and
after jogging in place for a couple of hours our advisor comes out in a tug around seven. The tug nudges right up to your boat within a
couple of inches and the advisor jumps aboard with the help of your line handlers. He says hello and tells Ellis that we can head for the
canal entrance which is a couple of miles away. We take our place in the channel and on the way over he tells us how we would be going
through the locks. We would be tying along side a tug.
Several days previously, the Canal Authority had come to our boat for official measurement and form signing (the Canal Authority takes no
responsibility for anything). They are pretty easy to deal with and even let me deflate the dinghy to get the overall measurement under 50
feet (over 50 costs an additional $350). At that time they asked which method of lock tie up we would agree to. Most people prefer a
center chamber tie up where you either go in alone and the line handlers on the four corners of your boat deal with the line handlers on the
sides of the lock who tie your lines to bollards or you tie up to one or two other small boats and the line handlers on the outside of the pack
deal with the line handlers on the locks. Most people refuse to tie to a tug or other large boat that in turn ties to the side of the lock. We
don't mind tugs and actually preferred that type of tie because you only have to tie to the tug and don't have to work your lines up and down
as the water fills or is drained from the lock. Anyway. We got what we wanted.
On the Atlantic side there are three locks (one immediately after the other) that take you up the 85 feet to Gatun Lake. The tug goes in
first and ties to the side of the lock. We go in and tie to the tug. The locks close. The water rises very quickly with lots of turbulence. The
up locks are the most dangerous because of the turbulence. Someone losing a line here would be trouble. Tied to the tug we didn't have to
worry about that. And the tug lines were wrapped around those huge tug winches. Works for me. We get through the three locks in short
order and motor in the lake for three or four miles and tie up to a large mooring. The advisor tug comes to pick him up and we were done
for the night. Thanks to Leta, everyone ate too much and thanks to Ellis everyone drank too much. It was a bit strange having four extra
men sleeping on the boat, but all went well if you ignore the fact that one of the Panamanians came into Ellis and Leta's berth in the middle
of the night, found the forward head and proceeds to pee all over everything. Glad we have lots of disinfectant.
Next morning the new advisor (a different one) was supposed to show up at seven. About eight thirty here he comes. Jumps on board and
we are off. The next several hours on the lake was like motoring on the ICW. Just stay between the markers, stay out of the way of big
boats and haul ass. The advisor tells us that if we get to the first lock at eleven thirty we will be tying along side a hundred foot tour boat.
Works for us. The line handlers sleep.
On the Pacific side there are three locks as well but the first one is separate from the other two by about a mile. Going down is much less
turbulent, but as you go into the last lock there is current behind you of about three or four knots. So somehow you are supposed to slow
your sailboat down to zero with a four knot current from your stern. Fun stuff. We'll see how that goes.
We get to the first lock on time, but the tour boat is late (people pay tour boats to take them through the canal). We have to tie up to a side
wall outside of the first lock and wait. The tour boat finally shows up, we tie up to them and get on with it. Lots of people watching us and
taking pictures. We somehow get through the final lock unscathed (even with all that current from behind us) and suddenly we are in Pacific
water. Wow. Pretty cool. Another hour or so takes us under the Bridge of the Americas, the advisor tug picks him off the boat as we were
motoring, a launch picks up our line handlers and we motor another thirty minutes or so to our anchorage at Playita. Anchor down at four
thirty. The canal is done.
All that sounds pretty boring (other than maybe the Panamanian letting his lizard go wild in the middle of the night) and it was. Our canal
transit was just as we wanted it. No terrible stories to tell. And we have heard plenty of those stories from others. I frankly think our
transit went so well because of our experienced crew. As captain and first mate you should take it seriously. Your line handlers should take
it seriously. As a result, boring. One final word on line handlers. We would recommend you spend the bucks for all professional line
handlers (the going rate is $130 each plus food, drinks and tip). Not a huge sum when the safety of your boat is at risk. They efficiently got
the lines to the tug the first night. The next day they made sure they got the lines to the tour boat efficiently, especially in the last lock with
the current behind us (they also had extra lines rigged for that last lock in case the first throw didn't make it). The point is that the
professional guys have seen it all and know what to avoid beforehand.
Hope your transit goes as smoothly.
The Plan (January 2009) - Okay. We're through the Panama Canal. What now. Our plan is to spend next hurricane season in the Sea
of Cortez, Mexico. That means we need to keep moving as weather permits to make it above the hurricane zone (roughly the middle of the
Sea of Cortez) by May. With the fair weather on the Pacific coast that should not necessarily be a problem. Except (I guess there's always
an except). The gaps in the Continental Divide in Mexico and Costa Rica-Nicaraugua create land funnels that result in gale force winds (or
worse) on the Pacific coast during the winter months as strong cold fronts and high pressure ridges transit the Gulf of Mexico and team up
with strong trade winds in the southwest Caribbean. NOAA has a pretty good discussion of gap winds in the Tropical Weather Discussion
for the Eastern Pacific from the Equator to 32 North, East of 140 West, updated every six hours. These gap winds are called Papagayo and
Tehuantepec winds in honor of those respective gulfs. Papagayo is in Costa Rica and Tehuantepec is in Mexico. The Papagayo is only
about 50 miles wide and the Tehuantepec about 200. Having said that, the effects of these winds (when blowing) can cover hundreds.
These winds will dictate the timing of our travels for the next thousand miles or so.
Pacific Panama (January 2009) - The anchorage at Playita was one of the worst we have ever seen. It's very close to the Panama
Canal channel and you get the huge wakes from the huge ships at all hours. What's worse is that you are basically in the way of all the pilot
boats that meet the big ships a few miles out to drop off or pick up pilots that transit the canal. Their wakes are worse than the big ships
and they zip right by. The anchorage is bad but there is no other choice. The Balboa Yacht Club is the first facility you come to after
exiting the canal. They only have moorings and are always full. There is only one protected marina on the opposite side of the sea wall
from Playita, but it's ultra expensive and always full as well. We stayed only as long as necessary to get our Zarpe for Costa Rica, get our
passports stamped, do laundry (remember all the strange men) and dump our tires. Oh, and Ellis had to go to the U.S. Embassy to pick up
his renewed passport.
Two days after transiting the canal we took off for the northernmost Las Perlas Islands. We had light winds and light seas. We anchored at
Contadora about 1 p.m.
We had been in the Pacific only a short time, but we were in awe of the weather. We knew the weather was supposed to be mild but this was
really good stuff. Sunny skies and eight to twelve knot winds. The seas had been non existent except for a very light southerly swell of
only a couple of feet. And I mean swell. Twelve to fifteen second interval. Back in the Caribbean the wind was howling at 25 to 30 with
numerous squalls packing 50 knot wind and waves of ten to twelve feet with an interval of about six seconds. We were tired of that. The
contrast was extraordinary.
Contadora was nothing special (since it was the closest and easiest island to get to from Panama City) but it was the first glimpse of what we
would see for a while. Very rocky, mountainous terrain with sort of brown sand beaches. There is also lots of rock underwater, most of
which you can't see, to make for your cruising and anchoring pleasure. But all very beautiful.
Oh, then there was wildlife. Lots of everything. Porpoises, sea turtles, sea snakes (Leta was happy to see those) and fish everywhere (and
of course sea birds of every kind chasing the fish stuff). That first day it took only an hour or so to catch a Skip Jack tuna. They are not as
tasty as their cousins, the Yellow Fin or Black Fin, but are the kind your canned tuna comes from. As soon as it was on the boat Ellis sliced
the thing up and about brunch time Leta did some pan searing and we scarfed it with a little wasabi. Not much better than that, even if it
was a Skip Jack. Most people throw Skip Jacks back because they mistake them for Little Tunnys, which look very similar but are really
nasty, fishy, vile things. Definitely throw them back.
The next morning we were up early headed for Isla San Jose, the southwestern most Las Perlas. Spectacular. The pictures don't do the
place justice. Of course the weather was perfect once again. We did, however, learn a valuable Pacific lesson at San Jose. As we were
finding our anchor spot, we were motoring in a large circle (all the while drawing the track on our chartplotter) so we know the depth in our
entire swing radius. We had plenty of time, so we decided to make a bigger circle to get closer to the beach in shallower water. We could
see some mildly darker water color in a few places but couldn't really tell what was causing the darker colors. We were motoring very
slowly (as always in unfamiliar territory) with Leta on the bow. All of a sudden she starts yelling and screaming (I mean really yelling and
screaming). Reverse, reverse, reverse. Well, Ellis being somewhat bright (although Leta may disagree), figures out that she really means
reverse. He cranks it up for as much as he can in reverse. We back out of there in a hurry and Leta comes back to the cockpit literally
shaking and clearly upset. She proceeds to relay that we narrowly missed a huge rock lurking just under the water. We took the dinghy
over later and couldn't believe how close we had come to disaster. Next time we'll just anchor in deep water. We now know for sure that
any dark spots on the Pacific side are rocks, not grass.
We stayed two days and left one fine perfect weather morning for a 200 mile overnighter to get around the notoriously bad weather spot,
Punta Mala.
The NOAA gap report talks about the Gulf of Panama as an afterthought when discussing the Papagayo and Tehuantepec. If the latter
winds are strong, the winds pick up along the western part of the Gulf of Panama and curve around Punta Mala rather strongly. The
forecast was for light and variable winds and the gap winds were quiet. In late afternoon we see the Pacific mainland of Panama and about
dark we get to Punta Mala. We were even sailing. We also picked up the two knot current zipping around the point. Things were very
comfortable and we were hauling it. Leta goes down for a nap about eight. Right after, the light winds decided to accelerate around Punta
Mala and get up to twenty or so. By then we were motor sailing and had the main and staysail up. For the next four hours we were motor
sailing at about eight knots at only fifteen hundred rpm. So why didn't Ellis turn the motor off. Well. It was a funny kind of combination of
wind direction and speed and short choppy waves. It was simply more comfortable with the sail and motor combination at the time. So, why
not. By the time Ellis went for a nap things had quieted down nicely, but Leta had a fun watch of keeping track of the many mega ships
bound for the Panama Canal.
About dawn, we round the southernmost tip of Panama and head towards Bahia Honda. Before arriving about noon we passed some of the
prettiest, rugged islands we have ever seen. Oh, about nine or so we decided to fish awhile and promptly caught a Dorado (aka Mahi-Mahi)
just big enough for the two of us.
We finally get to the entrance of Bahia Honda through an opening between two mountainous points. Once inside the grandeur of the place
was astounding. Again, pictures don't really convey the true magnificence. The perfectly protected anchorage with no swells was huge.
You could have gotten a hundred boats in there. We saw three in the distance; so far away we declared ourselves alone. We stayed three
days. Can't remember why.
We could easily have stayed in that place much longer, but we wanted to get as close to the Papagayo as possible (just south of the wind
effects) so we would be ready to move when a weather window presented itself.
We headed to Isla Secas one fine perfect weather morning. We caught a rather large Dorado and had fun landing the thing while it was
jumping out of the water for about fifteen minutes. We dropped anchor about noon. Isla Secas is far enough from the mainland to have
relatively clear water, so divers like the place. Unfortunately, there is not much room to anchor and it's wide open from most any direction,
except from the west (where it usually doesn't blow from in winter). We spent a rolly night and were up early heading for Isla Parida, the
westernmost anchorage in Pacific Panama.
Well. The anchorage we selected at Isla Parida was protected from all directions except the west. We were looking for a good night's sleep
and about three in the afternoon the wind began to blow from the west (precisely the direction that it doesn't blow from in winter). Before
long we had three to four foot waves in the anchorage. It wasn't dangerous (big anchors, lots of chain) but it was tough to sleep. About
three in the morning the wind disappeared and we stayed another day to rest up in completely calm weather.
We left about dawn one fine perfect weather morning (okay, I'm done with that but you get the picture). Next stop Costa Rica. The border
was about 35 miles away.
We'll have to say that Pacific Panama was a pleasant surprise. The scenery is just beautiful. And the weather is perfect. Had we not been
in a hurry, we would have stayed much longer.
Costa Rica (January, February 2009) - We planned on spending twenty four to thirty hours underway, depending on our speed. The
forecast called for winds on our nose (although light) and the current along this coast could come from either direction. If our speed over
ground was slow (say about five knots) we would stop at Golfito in Golfo Dulce, only about forty miles from the Panama border. If our
speed was six or more we would clear in at Quepos or go on to Los Suenos Marina in Bahia Herradura. All the way to Los Suenos would be
about 200 miles. We caught the current and winds just right and arrived at the marina around ten a.m. The trip was really uneventful.
Except. About dark, Leta yells for Ellis to come up to the cockpit. She's freaking out about the depth sounder. It's showing 20 to 30 feet
when it's supposed to be a couple of thousand. All the guides say to stay two miles offshore and we were four. We confirmed our
chartplotter with radar and both are showing four miles off. Sometimes the depth would go to 60 then back to 45 or so then in the 20's. The
depth couldn't be right, but we were relying on the chartplotter and radar and couldn't see anything outside the cockpit. Very stressful.
After looking at the thing for a couple of hours, Ellis declares that we are in deep water and the combination of current and cold water rising
from the depths (we are right on top of deep ten thousand foot canyons rising to the shore in a very small area) are screwing with our depth
sounder. After that, Leta also had another fun video game night on her watch dodging a surprising volume of boat traffic, all the while
looking at crazy depths on our depth meter. Neither of us got much sleep.
Anyway. We find our slip in the marina and are instantly struck by the fact that there are no sailboats (actually two on the far end) and
there are a couple of hundred sport fishers. And I mean sport fishers. The multi-million dollar kind of sport fishers. Each with a full-time
crew of two to four depending on the size. Fishing is big around here for rich Americans who come down for a few days of periodic fishing.
The marina is in the middle of a huge development of big houses and condos all over the mountain side. There are several restaurants and
shops. In short, it's a resort. We hadn't seen anything like this since leaving the states. It also cost us three fifty a foot and the only slip
available was a 65 foot one. By far the most we have ever spent in a marina. We spent three days there (with the stock market and all we
are really broke now); the main reason being --- oil leak.
Ellis had traced the leak to an oil pipe compression fitting on top of the oil cooler. To get to the fitting he had to remove the pipe from the
turbo charger to the oil cooler. If the copper washers failed or he couldn't tighten the fitting sufficiently, he would need a mechanic. He also
needed a large 27mm socket which he didn't have. After trying the local hardware stores and talking to some of the sport fisher captains,
he decided that we should make it to Puntarenas where more tools (and mechanics) would be available. The leak was more of a seep, so as
long as we watched it, we would be fine (for a while). Puntarenas was on our itinerary in a few days anyway so we felt confident we could
take care of it there (well maybe not confident).
Another reason to stop at Los Suenos was to scope it out for internet connections. Ellis had a telephonic board meeting in about a week and
needed reliable internet to download PowerPoint presentations. We hoped we could do that at Puntarenas because the place was much,
much cheaper. At least we knew we could do it at Los Suenos.
We left the marina one fine perfect weather morning (sorry, I'm supposed to be done with that) and anchored outside in the bay. We
decided the anchorage would work fine if we had to come back for internet, since we could either dinghy to the marina or take the laptop to
an internet cafe in the local town.
Next morning we headed up the Gulf of Nicoya to check out a couple of anchorages on our way to Puntarenas. We were getting pretty
close to Papagayo (120 miles) and occasionally the Papagayo winds would make it this far down. We needed several places to wait out
those winds. Also, even if the winds did not make it this far down, we needed places to stay to wait on a weather window to take on the
Papagayo.
The first anchorage was Isla Muertos. It was completely protected from the west (remember, the winds don't come from that direction in
winter) with okay protection from the north and no protection from the east. The winds were from the southeast and, even though not
strong, made for a rolly night.
The next day we went a few more miles to the anchorage at Isla San Lucas; completely protected from all directions but the west. We liked
the place. We had to share the anchorage with a floating restaurant (we wouldn't eat there but the locals seemed to like it). The restaurant
was there because the island was once a penal colony and the grounds were maintained for all to see. Tourists on the weekend. But we
usually had the place to ourselves and it was the most protected anchorage we had found in the area.
So, since we had an anchorage to call our own, the next day we made our way to Costa Rica Yacht Club in Puntarenas, only four miles away.
The only slight problem was that the yacht club was up a river about four miles past Puntarenas and you had to go in at high tide and have a
pilot show you the way through the unmarked, shifting channel.
High tide was at seven thirty and we were to meet the marina pilot about seven at the ferry dock at the tip of Puntarenas at the mouth of the
river. Of course he's not there and no one at the marina answers the radio. Finally, about eight, we get the marina and the guy shows up
shortly thereafter. By now the tide was slowly beginning to recede. After telling the pilot our draft, he felt confident that we would have
plenty of water. So, after briefly thinking about waiting another day, we fall in behind the guy's panga and wind our way down the river. We
never saw less than nine feet so the guy new what he was talking about. Good thing. We get to the marina and tie up to our dock pointing
into the current. All nice and easy.
The Costa Rica Yacht Club sounds pretty fancy. It is not fancy. The only real dock was the fuel dock. The dock we had tied to was a free
floating detached dock anchored out in the river. There was a power boat on one side and us on the other. There was no water or
electricity. The pangas would take you to the office or restaurant (actually not bad food) or shore 24 hours a day. Most of the boats were
on double moorings (fore and aft). And now for the real fun. At low water most of the sailboats were aground. And I mean aground. So
much so that a few were heeled over close to 45 degrees. Now we know why sailboats were on one side and powerboats on the other. Two
sailboats could tangle their masts. We were lucky. We were in a deep spot and barely stuck in the mud, so we didn't heel much unless we
got strong wind on our beam.
Speaking of wind. As we have said, Papagayo was close. The forecast called for gale force winds in the Papagayo and hurricane force
winds in the Tehuantepec for over a week. Most of the time those winds never get as far down Puntarenas. Sometimes they do. In the
middle of our stay at the yacht club the light and variable wind turned into 20 to 25 sustained with gusts into the 40's. Fun stuff when you're
stuck in the mud and heeled over onto the dock. This was our first taste of Papagayo winds and after twelve hours or so the winds
disappeared as quickly as they came.
A couple of days later we did the internet thing and board meeting. Also during our stay Ellis found the right tools and after banging around
on the engine for a day declared it fixed. We stayed five days and the total cost was a hundred bucks (less than half a night at Los Suenos).
We left on a Saturday at noon, about an hour before high tide. Timothy, the pilot, took us right back to the ferry dock in short order. About
the same time as we arrived at the ferry dock we got another taste of Papagayo. One second the wind was light and variable and the next
second it's 20. By the time we get to the end of the channel it's 25. We turn towards Isla San Lucas and it's 25 to 30. Just three or four
miles to go but we got soaked from the spray. We finally round the corner of the island and get in its lee. The waves are gone but we have
to anchor in 25 knot winds. Lucky we know that drill. The winds blow really hard the rest of the day, but by six they're light and variable.
Papagayo.
The next day we take Bogey to shore. It had been a week since we had taken him since the yacht club did not allow dogs. He can go on the
boat indefinitely but he loves to go on walks and mark everything in sight. He usually rides on the dinghy up front with Leta holding onto
his leash. Looks like a hood ornament. He was so excited to be going ashore that he was jumping up and down with his back feet and
holding on with his front feet. It was like he was trying to get the dinghy to go faster.
The beach was really just a small muddy spot (at low tide), but Bogey had a blast. Also, once we got there, Leta noticed that a whole troop
of howler monkeys were in the trees right over our heads. They were just sitting around or holding on to the tree trunks checking us out. It
was the closest we had ever been to monkeys. Leta still talks about it. Unfortunately, we didn't have a camera.
After two days we decided that we had an approaching weather window. We needed to move south to Bahia Herradura (Los Suenos) and if
the weather looked good on the following morning we would head for the devil's lair (Papagayo). Our destination was Bahia Culebra (right
in the middle of the Gulf of Papagayo), which was about 140 miles away. We debated for a while whether to do an overnighter or make two
long day trips. Even though the day trips would be long, we decided on the day trips.
We woke up early the next day and left the anchorage about four in the morning. By three thirty we made it to Bahia Carillo. All the guides
say that it is a very rolly place. It was. Not quite the rolliest, but close. We didn't get much sleep and finally decided to leave about three
in the morning.
For the first few hours the wind was light. We new from the grib files that the wind was supposed to be about twenty as we got closer to the
Papagayo. About ten the wind began to pick up. First, only about 10 to 15. Then about 20. Then 25. By ten thirty it was 25 to 30.
Amazing. Oh. The wind was also about 45 degrees off our nose. The good news was that the wind was blowing from shore which meant the
waves were not more than a three or four foot wind chop. All the wind and waves threw up a lot of water and spray but, all in all, not too
uncomfortable. After a few hours of heavy wind, we finally get to Cabo Vela where we would have to turn up directly into the wind. Our
plan was to take the staysail down and pull the traveller on our half reefed main way up. That way we thought we could keep the main up to
help stabilize the boat. Mistake. The wind was too strong and gusty for that. No sooner than we thought everything was under control, a
big gust shook the main and two battens flew out and crashed on the deck and into the water. Okay. No sails and motor into the wind. The
waves were also bigger since rounding the cape because the fetch was about ten miles instead of two to three. Fun stuff. However, we
managed to get five or six knots and after several hours we finally get to the shelter of Culebra.
The place is huge with many places to anchor in perfect protection from the winds. There is a lot of resort development around, but the bay
is so big you don't notice it at all. We get the anchor down and go to sleep early. But not before noticing our teak flag staff and United
States flag are gone. We have been in lots of wind before and never worried about our flag. Sometime during the last few hours the flag
and staff just got ripped out of its holder. Things were so loud and rough we never knew when it happened. Papagayo.
The next morning we are up early and motor a couple of miles to a brand spanking new marina (Papagayo Marina - cute) to fuel up and to
find the easiest way to clear out of Costa Rica because our next stop would be either Nicaragua or El Salvador. The marina had been open
only a few weeks and had two boats in what must have been a couple of hundred spaces. They had all the staff hired anticipating business
to pick up quickly and at the fuel dock we had at least six or eight guys giving us a hand. We decided to stay a couple of days.
The marina has the best floating concrete docks money can buy. The walkways were at least ten or fifteen feet wide. This place makes
Los Suenos look like Costa Rica Yacht Club. All the restaurants and shops are not open yet (they are under construction) and the grand
opening of the bar was the night we arrived. Once everything is developed, Papagayo Marina will be one grand place. And, there's a Four
Seasons Resort at the top of the hill. It cost three dollars a foot. Yikes.
We find out the scoop on clearing out. There is no easy way to do it. We will have to go to another anchorage (Playa del Coco) a couple of
hours away to see the Port Captain. There's no dinghy dock and we will have to land the dinghy on the beach through the surf. The
anchorage is supposed to be very rolly as well. We also find out that the Port Captain will not be in for the next four days, which means we
will miss a perfect weather window to get the hell out of Papagayo country. So. We'll leave the marina and anchor out for a few days and
watch the weather closely. Nothing to do but wait.
After waiting a few days at the anchorage at the head of Culebra Bay, we heading over to Playa del Coco. We left early enough to get
anchored and for Leta to drop Ellis at the beach (there is no dinghy dock) so that he could be at the Port Captain's office at eight a.m. We
had confirmed by phone the previous day that the Port Captain would be in. He was not. By eight thirty Ellis called Leta on one of our hand
held VHF radios and she called the Port Captain and marina to find out the story. Come to find out the Port Captain was inspecting a very
large sailing vessel anchored in the bay and would be back in the office by noon. In the meantime, his assistant would come to the office to
get the paperwork going for our Zarpe. About nine thirty the assistant opens the office and tells Ellis he has to go to the bank to pay a $20
fee and then to go to Immigration to get passports and crew lists stamped. Once he had completed all of that, the Port Captain should be in.
The bank was three or four blocks away and except for the fact that the line was thirty minutes long the payment of the Port Captain's fee
was easy. Ellis leaves there by ten or so armed with the right paperwork to prove that he paid the fee and heads another few blocks to
Immigration. A sign on the door says the office would be open at eleven. Ellis goes back to the Port Captain's office to let them know that
he could be later than noon because of Immigration office hours. He gets back to Immigration about eleven and has trouble communicating
to the official because she speaks absolutely no English and his Spanish is still very limited. Once the communication finally gets done, the
official shows Ellis that her stamp is not working. After Ellis screws with the thing for fifteen minutes or so, he finally gets the stamps he
needs to go back to the Port Captain. By the time Ellis gets back to the Port Captain's office it's noon and by twelve thirty the has the
Zarpe we need to get into Nicaragua.
Well. Ellis calls Leta to pick him up at the beach. By now the winds are howling at twenty five to thirty making for a wet beach landing and
pick up. Once back at the boat, the next challenge is how to get the anchor up in howling winds (it's much easier to drop anchor in heavy
winds than to weigh anchor, especially in a crowded anchorage - which it was).
By one thirty, we were headed back to the protected anchorage that we had come from and by three we were anchored again.
The only reason that we share this story is to give you some idea how archaic and slow clearing in and out of some countries can be. To
make matters worse, you are expected to leave the same day regardless of what the weather brings you. Needless to say, we did not leave.
Our plan was to wake up at midnight, so we could get around the notoriously boisterous Cabo Santa Elena (about 30 miles away) very early
in the morning. During the last several days, the winds had laid down overnight before picking up again mid-morning. We were hoping to
take advantage of that phenomenon.
We woke up at twelve, but the winds were still howling. We decided to sleep for a while and then check again (including receiving updated
weather files) around four. At four the winds were light and the weather files indicated that we should see less than twenty during the
coming day. We decided to give it a go.
Everything was going as planned until about ten. That's when the winds decided to blow. At first it was only twenty but before long it gets
to thirty then back to fifteen. The Papagayo winds are really gusty, but not the kind of gusts we are used to. Instead of gusting briefly, they
sort of build over fifteen or twenty minutes before deciding to start a slow decline. Then the cycle starts all over again. The good news was
that the wind was aft of beam and there were no seas to speak of since we were close to shore.
Okay. So far, so good. About eleven, we are approaching the long skinny tip of Cabo Santa Elena. Cabo Santa Elena is the end of a thirty
mile peninsula that culminates in a wind swept four story, forbidding promontory. All the cruise guides say to expect winds double the
forecast as you round the point. We wish we could have gotten a picture of that desolate place, but we had bigger things to deal with.
We had the engine on with half the main and all the staysail up. We round the point and face about 45 degrees into the wind. We are also
facing into a thirty mile fetch of waves. There's no need to go into all the gory details from here, but we basically got our asses blown off.
The sail combination was good so we were never in danger or necessarily uncomfortable, but it was slow, rough and wet for the three hours
or so to go the fifteen miles to safe anchorage at Bahia Santa Elena. During that time, Ellis saw 35 and Leta saw 38. Our boat saw the
most water on deck that it had seen for quite some time.
We finally get to the protection of the Bay of Santa Elena and anchor for the night. The bay is very pretty but not as pretty as the guide
books have you believe, but it was completely protected from wind and waves. There are a few gusts that make their way over and around
the peaks surrounding the bay, but nothing alarming.
That was a tough day. But it's over, no worse for the wear.
Up next was a twenty four hour trek to Puesta del Sol in Nicaragua. We were up early the next morning to make sure we got as far away
from Cabo Santa Elena as we could before the winds piped up.
Nicaragua (February 2009) - It was a long day and night. The good news was that any wind and seas would be from our aft quarter and
the seas would not have more than a few miles of fetch since we would be hugging the coast. Of course hugging the coast at night increases
the chances that you run over a fish net, so we stayed in at least 100 feet of water since that seemed to be as deep as the fishermen set
their nets. The bad news is that we saw twenty to thirty knots of wind all day and most of the night, which winds finally went to light and
variable about two a.m. Our sail combination of half the main with the staysail up worked well. In thirty knot winds the boat was stable and
we flew along at about seven and a half knots. Occasionally, the winds would get below twenty and we would get below five knots, but
before long, the winds would pipe back up. We averaged about six and were perfectly happy with that.
We get to the entrance of Puesta del Sol about dawn and were tied up at the marina about eight. We'll report on the marina later, but it
looks like a nice enough place to stay for a few days to rest up and wait for weather. Believe it or not, the Papagayos had not been blowing
very hard during the last few days and were expected to really pick up during the next few, which could affect our next planned sail to
Barillas in El Salvador. The good news was that we were getting far enough away from the Gulf of Papagayo so that the really heavy and
potentially dangerous stuff should be a thing of the past. Whew. Papagayo.
We are glad this part of the trip is over. We knew that the Papagayo winds could be problematic, but did not expect such strong persistent
winds during quiet weather forecast periods. We saw more thirty knot winds during a two day period than we had seen during the last three
years.
Puesta del Sol was nice enough, but nothing special. The entrance was well marked and easy in and easy out. The facilities were nice with
a restaurant and bar where you could order simple stuff like burgers and fries. The docks were okay, but sort of wobbly with very low water
pressure. And the electricity stopped working each and every day for several hours. I guess we would stay there again only because there
are not really any alternatives along this coast.
After three days, we had a weather window to Barillas. We left early morning to arrive twenty four hours later.
El Salvador (February, March 2009) - Our Papagayo celebration was a bit too early. Roughly half way to Barillas was the Gulf of
Fonseca. When the Papagayos are blowing especially hard, the Gulf of Fonseca gets in on the action. Having said that, we crossed the Gulf
in the middle of the night during a quiet wind forecast period. The wind did pick up, but only to about twenty for a couple of hours.
When we arrived at Barillas about seven a.m., the wind had virtually died. Barillas is up a river about ten miles and you have to cross an
extensive sand bar to get into the mouth of the river. The bar and the river channel constantly changes so you must have a pilot to lead you
in. We had arranged by email the day before to meet the pilot (in a panga) at the designated waypoint (which also changes periodically).
The pilot promptly leads us through the shoals and in two hours we are tied up to a mooring ball (Barillas has no slips). It was pretty rolly
getting across the bar, but once in the river it was smooth as glass.
In less than fifteen minutes after we picked up the ball another panga comes out with the Port Captain, Customs and the manager of
Barillas. After some paper work we go ashore with the group and the manager shows us around the place. He also takes us to Immigration
to get our passports stamped. Within thirty minutes or so, we are checked in to Barillas with all officialdom taken care of (with everything
contained on Barillas grounds). The facilities are very, very nice with manicured grounds, a bar and restaurant, a small store with basics
and several sitting areas around a pool all with power to plug in your laptop and to surf to your heart's content using very fast wireless.
Oh. A small modern town is about thirty minutes away by the Barillas supplied van. Leta says the supermarket was the nicest she has seen
in months.
The scenery is spectacular. Of course the river is lined with mangroves with all the wild life you would normally see (including crocodiles),
but towering over the mangroves are several active volcanoes all relatively close by. A couple of nights after we arrived, one of them had a
small eruption and we could see the red glow of fire and lava at the top. You don't see that sort of thing very often, if ever. Cool beans.
We would definitely come back to Barillas and would not hesitate to park our boat there during hurricane season.
We could have stayed much longer, but after five days we had a weather window to get through the Gulf of Tehuantepec and to Huatulco,
Mexico (a mere 540 mile jog). We left one morning with plans to arrive in Huatulco four days later.
we had hired an agent (Stanley, whom we would recommend) to handle all our dealings with the Canal Authority, the Port Captains (you
have to get a Zarpe from Colon to Balboa and a Zarpe for leaving the country) and Customs and Immigration (you need your passport
stamped to exit the country). Stanley also arranged for lots of tires wrapped in trash bags (to keep most of the black marks off your hull),
the required four 125 foot lines and line handlers. We had discretely asked around the marina for any experienced line handling cruisers
and found only one who was interested and had been through several times. You can find lots of volunteers with no experience. Some
cruisers don't mind inexperienced line handlers, but we did not want to take that risk. Anyway, Stanley arranged for three line handlers who
had been through hundreds of times. Just what we wanted.
From Shelter Bay, we motored three or four miles over to the small boat (any boat smaller than the big commercial ships) staging area at
the Flats anchorage. Our advisor would meet us there around six. We would just motor around for awhile instead of dropping anchor and
after jogging in place for a couple of hours our advisor comes out in a tug around seven. The tug nudges right up to your boat within a
couple of inches and the advisor jumps aboard with the help of your line handlers. He says hello and tells Ellis that we can head for the
canal entrance which is a couple of miles away. We take our place in the channel and on the way over he tells us how we would be going
through the locks. We would be tying along side a tug.
Several days previously, the Canal Authority had come to our boat for official measurement and form signing (the Canal Authority takes no
responsibility for anything). They are pretty easy to deal with and even let me deflate the dinghy to get the overall measurement under 50
feet (over 50 costs an additional $350). At that time they asked which method of lock tie up we would agree to. Most people prefer a
center chamber tie up where you either go in alone and the line handlers on the four corners of your boat deal with the line handlers on the
sides of the lock who tie your lines to bollards or you tie up to one or two other small boats and the line handlers on the outside of the pack
deal with the line handlers on the locks. Most people refuse to tie to a tug or other large boat that in turn ties to the side of the lock. We
don't mind tugs and actually preferred that type of tie because you only have to tie to the tug and don't have to work your lines up and down
as the water fills or is drained from the lock. Anyway. We got what we wanted.
On the Atlantic side there are three locks (one immediately after the other) that take you up the 85 feet to Gatun Lake. The tug goes in
first and ties to the side of the lock. We go in and tie to the tug. The locks close. The water rises very quickly with lots of turbulence. The
up locks are the most dangerous because of the turbulence. Someone losing a line here would be trouble. Tied to the tug we didn't have to
worry about that. And the tug lines were wrapped around those huge tug winches. Works for me. We get through the three locks in short
order and motor in the lake for three or four miles and tie up to a large mooring. The advisor tug comes to pick him up and we were done
for the night. Thanks to Leta, everyone ate too much and thanks to Ellis everyone drank too much. It was a bit strange having four extra
men sleeping on the boat, but all went well if you ignore the fact that one of the Panamanians came into Ellis and Leta's berth in the middle
of the night, found the forward head and proceeds to pee all over everything. Glad we have lots of disinfectant.
Next morning the new advisor (a different one) was supposed to show up at seven. About eight thirty here he comes. Jumps on board and
we are off. The next several hours on the lake was like motoring on the ICW. Just stay between the markers, stay out of the way of big
boats and haul ass. The advisor tells us that if we get to the first lock at eleven thirty we will be tying along side a hundred foot tour boat.
Works for us. The line handlers sleep.
On the Pacific side there are three locks as well but the first one is separate from the other two by about a mile. Going down is much less
turbulent, but as you go into the last lock there is current behind you of about three or four knots. So somehow you are supposed to slow
your sailboat down to zero with a four knot current from your stern. Fun stuff. We'll see how that goes.
We get to the first lock on time, but the tour boat is late (people pay tour boats to take them through the canal). We have to tie up to a side
wall outside of the first lock and wait. The tour boat finally shows up, we tie up to them and get on with it. Lots of people watching us and
taking pictures. We somehow get through the final lock unscathed (even with all that current from behind us) and suddenly we are in Pacific
water. Wow. Pretty cool. Another hour or so takes us under the Bridge of the Americas, the advisor tug picks him off the boat as we were
motoring, a launch picks up our line handlers and we motor another thirty minutes or so to our anchorage at Playita. Anchor down at four
thirty. The canal is done.
All that sounds pretty boring (other than maybe the Panamanian letting his lizard go wild in the middle of the night) and it was. Our canal
transit was just as we wanted it. No terrible stories to tell. And we have heard plenty of those stories from others. I frankly think our
transit went so well because of our experienced crew. As captain and first mate you should take it seriously. Your line handlers should take
it seriously. As a result, boring. One final word on line handlers. We would recommend you spend the bucks for all professional line
handlers (the going rate is $130 each plus food, drinks and tip). Not a huge sum when the safety of your boat is at risk. They efficiently got
the lines to the tug the first night. The next day they made sure they got the lines to the tour boat efficiently, especially in the last lock with
the current behind us (they also had extra lines rigged for that last lock in case the first throw didn't make it). The point is that the
professional guys have seen it all and know what to avoid beforehand.
Hope your transit goes as smoothly.
The Plan (January 2009) - Okay. We're through the Panama Canal. What now. Our plan is to spend next hurricane season in the Sea
of Cortez, Mexico. That means we need to keep moving as weather permits to make it above the hurricane zone (roughly the middle of the
Sea of Cortez) by May. With the fair weather on the Pacific coast that should not necessarily be a problem. Except (I guess there's always
an except). The gaps in the Continental Divide in Mexico and Costa Rica-Nicaraugua create land funnels that result in gale force winds (or
worse) on the Pacific coast during the winter months as strong cold fronts and high pressure ridges transit the Gulf of Mexico and team up
with strong trade winds in the southwest Caribbean. NOAA has a pretty good discussion of gap winds in the Tropical Weather Discussion
for the Eastern Pacific from the Equator to 32 North, East of 140 West, updated every six hours. These gap winds are called Papagayo and
Tehuantepec winds in honor of those respective gulfs. Papagayo is in Costa Rica and Tehuantepec is in Mexico. The Papagayo is only
about 50 miles wide and the Tehuantepec about 200. Having said that, the effects of these winds (when blowing) can cover hundreds.
These winds will dictate the timing of our travels for the next thousand miles or so.
Pacific Panama (January 2009) - The anchorage at Playita was one of the worst we have ever seen. It's very close to the Panama
Canal channel and you get the huge wakes from the huge ships at all hours. What's worse is that you are basically in the way of all the pilot
boats that meet the big ships a few miles out to drop off or pick up pilots that transit the canal. Their wakes are worse than the big ships
and they zip right by. The anchorage is bad but there is no other choice. The Balboa Yacht Club is the first facility you come to after
exiting the canal. They only have moorings and are always full. There is only one protected marina on the opposite side of the sea wall
from Playita, but it's ultra expensive and always full as well. We stayed only as long as necessary to get our Zarpe for Costa Rica, get our
passports stamped, do laundry (remember all the strange men) and dump our tires. Oh, and Ellis had to go to the U.S. Embassy to pick up
his renewed passport.
Two days after transiting the canal we took off for the northernmost Las Perlas Islands. We had light winds and light seas. We anchored at
Contadora about 1 p.m.
We had been in the Pacific only a short time, but we were in awe of the weather. We knew the weather was supposed to be mild but this was
really good stuff. Sunny skies and eight to twelve knot winds. The seas had been non existent except for a very light southerly swell of
only a couple of feet. And I mean swell. Twelve to fifteen second interval. Back in the Caribbean the wind was howling at 25 to 30 with
numerous squalls packing 50 knot wind and waves of ten to twelve feet with an interval of about six seconds. We were tired of that. The
contrast was extraordinary.
Contadora was nothing special (since it was the closest and easiest island to get to from Panama City) but it was the first glimpse of what we
would see for a while. Very rocky, mountainous terrain with sort of brown sand beaches. There is also lots of rock underwater, most of
which you can't see, to make for your cruising and anchoring pleasure. But all very beautiful.
Oh, then there was wildlife. Lots of everything. Porpoises, sea turtles, sea snakes (Leta was happy to see those) and fish everywhere (and
of course sea birds of every kind chasing the fish stuff). That first day it took only an hour or so to catch a Skip Jack tuna. They are not as
tasty as their cousins, the Yellow Fin or Black Fin, but are the kind your canned tuna comes from. As soon as it was on the boat Ellis sliced
the thing up and about brunch time Leta did some pan searing and we scarfed it with a little wasabi. Not much better than that, even if it
was a Skip Jack. Most people throw Skip Jacks back because they mistake them for Little Tunnys, which look very similar but are really
nasty, fishy, vile things. Definitely throw them back.
The next morning we were up early headed for Isla San Jose, the southwestern most Las Perlas. Spectacular. The pictures don't do the
place justice. Of course the weather was perfect once again. We did, however, learn a valuable Pacific lesson at San Jose. As we were
finding our anchor spot, we were motoring in a large circle (all the while drawing the track on our chartplotter) so we know the depth in our
entire swing radius. We had plenty of time, so we decided to make a bigger circle to get closer to the beach in shallower water. We could
see some mildly darker water color in a few places but couldn't really tell what was causing the darker colors. We were motoring very
slowly (as always in unfamiliar territory) with Leta on the bow. All of a sudden she starts yelling and screaming (I mean really yelling and
screaming). Reverse, reverse, reverse. Well, Ellis being somewhat bright (although Leta may disagree), figures out that she really means
reverse. He cranks it up for as much as he can in reverse. We back out of there in a hurry and Leta comes back to the cockpit literally
shaking and clearly upset. She proceeds to relay that we narrowly missed a huge rock lurking just under the water. We took the dinghy
over later and couldn't believe how close we had come to disaster. Next time we'll just anchor in deep water. We now know for sure that
any dark spots on the Pacific side are rocks, not grass.
We stayed two days and left one fine perfect weather morning for a 200 mile overnighter to get around the notoriously bad weather spot,
Punta Mala.
The NOAA gap report talks about the Gulf of Panama as an afterthought when discussing the Papagayo and Tehuantepec. If the latter
winds are strong, the winds pick up along the western part of the Gulf of Panama and curve around Punta Mala rather strongly. The
forecast was for light and variable winds and the gap winds were quiet. In late afternoon we see the Pacific mainland of Panama and about
dark we get to Punta Mala. We were even sailing. We also picked up the two knot current zipping around the point. Things were very
comfortable and we were hauling it. Leta goes down for a nap about eight. Right after, the light winds decided to accelerate around Punta
Mala and get up to twenty or so. By then we were motor sailing and had the main and staysail up. For the next four hours we were motor
sailing at about eight knots at only fifteen hundred rpm. So why didn't Ellis turn the motor off. Well. It was a funny kind of combination of
wind direction and speed and short choppy waves. It was simply more comfortable with the sail and motor combination at the time. So, why
not. By the time Ellis went for a nap things had quieted down nicely, but Leta had a fun watch of keeping track of the many mega ships
bound for the Panama Canal.
About dawn, we round the southernmost tip of Panama and head towards Bahia Honda. Before arriving about noon we passed some of the
prettiest, rugged islands we have ever seen. Oh, about nine or so we decided to fish awhile and promptly caught a Dorado (aka Mahi-Mahi)
just big enough for the two of us.
We finally get to the entrance of Bahia Honda through an opening between two mountainous points. Once inside the grandeur of the place
was astounding. Again, pictures don't really convey the true magnificence. The perfectly protected anchorage with no swells was huge.
You could have gotten a hundred boats in there. We saw three in the distance; so far away we declared ourselves alone. We stayed three
days. Can't remember why.
We could easily have stayed in that place much longer, but we wanted to get as close to the Papagayo as possible (just south of the wind
effects) so we would be ready to move when a weather window presented itself.
We headed to Isla Secas one fine perfect weather morning. We caught a rather large Dorado and had fun landing the thing while it was
jumping out of the water for about fifteen minutes. We dropped anchor about noon. Isla Secas is far enough from the mainland to have
relatively clear water, so divers like the place. Unfortunately, there is not much room to anchor and it's wide open from most any direction,
except from the west (where it usually doesn't blow from in winter). We spent a rolly night and were up early heading for Isla Parida, the
westernmost anchorage in Pacific Panama.
Well. The anchorage we selected at Isla Parida was protected from all directions except the west. We were looking for a good night's sleep
and about three in the afternoon the wind began to blow from the west (precisely the direction that it doesn't blow from in winter). Before
long we had three to four foot waves in the anchorage. It wasn't dangerous (big anchors, lots of chain) but it was tough to sleep. About
three in the morning the wind disappeared and we stayed another day to rest up in completely calm weather.
We left about dawn one fine perfect weather morning (okay, I'm done with that but you get the picture). Next stop Costa Rica. The border
was about 35 miles away.
We'll have to say that Pacific Panama was a pleasant surprise. The scenery is just beautiful. And the weather is perfect. Had we not been
in a hurry, we would have stayed much longer.
Costa Rica (January, February 2009) - We planned on spending twenty four to thirty hours underway, depending on our speed. The
forecast called for winds on our nose (although light) and the current along this coast could come from either direction. If our speed over
ground was slow (say about five knots) we would stop at Golfito in Golfo Dulce, only about forty miles from the Panama border. If our
speed was six or more we would clear in at Quepos or go on to Los Suenos Marina in Bahia Herradura. All the way to Los Suenos would be
about 200 miles. We caught the current and winds just right and arrived at the marina around ten a.m. The trip was really uneventful.
Except. About dark, Leta yells for Ellis to come up to the cockpit. She's freaking out about the depth sounder. It's showing 20 to 30 feet
when it's supposed to be a couple of thousand. All the guides say to stay two miles offshore and we were four. We confirmed our
chartplotter with radar and both are showing four miles off. Sometimes the depth would go to 60 then back to 45 or so then in the 20's. The
depth couldn't be right, but we were relying on the chartplotter and radar and couldn't see anything outside the cockpit. Very stressful.
After looking at the thing for a couple of hours, Ellis declares that we are in deep water and the combination of current and cold water rising
from the depths (we are right on top of deep ten thousand foot canyons rising to the shore in a very small area) are screwing with our depth
sounder. After that, Leta also had another fun video game night on her watch dodging a surprising volume of boat traffic, all the while
looking at crazy depths on our depth meter. Neither of us got much sleep.
Anyway. We find our slip in the marina and are instantly struck by the fact that there are no sailboats (actually two on the far end) and
there are a couple of hundred sport fishers. And I mean sport fishers. The multi-million dollar kind of sport fishers. Each with a full-time
crew of two to four depending on the size. Fishing is big around here for rich Americans who come down for a few days of periodic fishing.
The marina is in the middle of a huge development of big houses and condos all over the mountain side. There are several restaurants and
shops. In short, it's a resort. We hadn't seen anything like this since leaving the states. It also cost us three fifty a foot and the only slip
available was a 65 foot one. By far the most we have ever spent in a marina. We spent three days there (with the stock market and all we
are really broke now); the main reason being --- oil leak.
Ellis had traced the leak to an oil pipe compression fitting on top of the oil cooler. To get to the fitting he had to remove the pipe from the
turbo charger to the oil cooler. If the copper washers failed or he couldn't tighten the fitting sufficiently, he would need a mechanic. He also
needed a large 27mm socket which he didn't have. After trying the local hardware stores and talking to some of the sport fisher captains,
he decided that we should make it to Puntarenas where more tools (and mechanics) would be available. The leak was more of a seep, so as
long as we watched it, we would be fine (for a while). Puntarenas was on our itinerary in a few days anyway so we felt confident we could
take care of it there (well maybe not confident).
Another reason to stop at Los Suenos was to scope it out for internet connections. Ellis had a telephonic board meeting in about a week and
needed reliable internet to download PowerPoint presentations. We hoped we could do that at Puntarenas because the place was much,
much cheaper. At least we knew we could do it at Los Suenos.
We left the marina one fine perfect weather morning (sorry, I'm supposed to be done with that) and anchored outside in the bay. We
decided the anchorage would work fine if we had to come back for internet, since we could either dinghy to the marina or take the laptop to
an internet cafe in the local town.
Next morning we headed up the Gulf of Nicoya to check out a couple of anchorages on our way to Puntarenas. We were getting pretty
close to Papagayo (120 miles) and occasionally the Papagayo winds would make it this far down. We needed several places to wait out
those winds. Also, even if the winds did not make it this far down, we needed places to stay to wait on a weather window to take on the
Papagayo.
The first anchorage was Isla Muertos. It was completely protected from the west (remember, the winds don't come from that direction in
winter) with okay protection from the north and no protection from the east. The winds were from the southeast and, even though not
strong, made for a rolly night.
The next day we went a few more miles to the anchorage at Isla San Lucas; completely protected from all directions but the west. We liked
the place. We had to share the anchorage with a floating restaurant (we wouldn't eat there but the locals seemed to like it). The restaurant
was there because the island was once a penal colony and the grounds were maintained for all to see. Tourists on the weekend. But we
usually had the place to ourselves and it was the most protected anchorage we had found in the area.
So, since we had an anchorage to call our own, the next day we made our way to Costa Rica Yacht Club in Puntarenas, only four miles away.
The only slight problem was that the yacht club was up a river about four miles past Puntarenas and you had to go in at high tide and have a
pilot show you the way through the unmarked, shifting channel.
High tide was at seven thirty and we were to meet the marina pilot about seven at the ferry dock at the tip of Puntarenas at the mouth of the
river. Of course he's not there and no one at the marina answers the radio. Finally, about eight, we get the marina and the guy shows up
shortly thereafter. By now the tide was slowly beginning to recede. After telling the pilot our draft, he felt confident that we would have
plenty of water. So, after briefly thinking about waiting another day, we fall in behind the guy's panga and wind our way down the river. We
never saw less than nine feet so the guy new what he was talking about. Good thing. We get to the marina and tie up to our dock pointing
into the current. All nice and easy.
The Costa Rica Yacht Club sounds pretty fancy. It is not fancy. The only real dock was the fuel dock. The dock we had tied to was a free
floating detached dock anchored out in the river. There was a power boat on one side and us on the other. There was no water or
electricity. The pangas would take you to the office or restaurant (actually not bad food) or shore 24 hours a day. Most of the boats were
on double moorings (fore and aft). And now for the real fun. At low water most of the sailboats were aground. And I mean aground. So
much so that a few were heeled over close to 45 degrees. Now we know why sailboats were on one side and powerboats on the other. Two
sailboats could tangle their masts. We were lucky. We were in a deep spot and barely stuck in the mud, so we didn't heel much unless we
got strong wind on our beam.
Speaking of wind. As we have said, Papagayo was close. The forecast called for gale force winds in the Papagayo and hurricane force
winds in the Tehuantepec for over a week. Most of the time those winds never get as far down Puntarenas. Sometimes they do. In the
middle of our stay at the yacht club the light and variable wind turned into 20 to 25 sustained with gusts into the 40's. Fun stuff when you're
stuck in the mud and heeled over onto the dock. This was our first taste of Papagayo winds and after twelve hours or so the winds
disappeared as quickly as they came.
A couple of days later we did the internet thing and board meeting. Also during our stay Ellis found the right tools and after banging around
on the engine for a day declared it fixed. We stayed five days and the total cost was a hundred bucks (less than half a night at Los Suenos).
We left on a Saturday at noon, about an hour before high tide. Timothy, the pilot, took us right back to the ferry dock in short order. About
the same time as we arrived at the ferry dock we got another taste of Papagayo. One second the wind was light and variable and the next
second it's 20. By the time we get to the end of the channel it's 25. We turn towards Isla San Lucas and it's 25 to 30. Just three or four
miles to go but we got soaked from the spray. We finally round the corner of the island and get in its lee. The waves are gone but we have
to anchor in 25 knot winds. Lucky we know that drill. The winds blow really hard the rest of the day, but by six they're light and variable.
Papagayo.
The next day we take Bogey to shore. It had been a week since we had taken him since the yacht club did not allow dogs. He can go on the
boat indefinitely but he loves to go on walks and mark everything in sight. He usually rides on the dinghy up front with Leta holding onto
his leash. Looks like a hood ornament. He was so excited to be going ashore that he was jumping up and down with his back feet and
holding on with his front feet. It was like he was trying to get the dinghy to go faster.
The beach was really just a small muddy spot (at low tide), but Bogey had a blast. Also, once we got there, Leta noticed that a whole troop
of howler monkeys were in the trees right over our heads. They were just sitting around or holding on to the tree trunks checking us out. It
was the closest we had ever been to monkeys. Leta still talks about it. Unfortunately, we didn't have a camera.
After two days we decided that we had an approaching weather window. We needed to move south to Bahia Herradura (Los Suenos) and if
the weather looked good on the following morning we would head for the devil's lair (Papagayo). Our destination was Bahia Culebra (right
in the middle of the Gulf of Papagayo), which was about 140 miles away. We debated for a while whether to do an overnighter or make two
long day trips. Even though the day trips would be long, we decided on the day trips.
We woke up early the next day and left the anchorage about four in the morning. By three thirty we made it to Bahia Carillo. All the guides
say that it is a very rolly place. It was. Not quite the rolliest, but close. We didn't get much sleep and finally decided to leave about three
in the morning.
For the first few hours the wind was light. We new from the grib files that the wind was supposed to be about twenty as we got closer to the
Papagayo. About ten the wind began to pick up. First, only about 10 to 15. Then about 20. Then 25. By ten thirty it was 25 to 30.
Amazing. Oh. The wind was also about 45 degrees off our nose. The good news was that the wind was blowing from shore which meant the
waves were not more than a three or four foot wind chop. All the wind and waves threw up a lot of water and spray but, all in all, not too
uncomfortable. After a few hours of heavy wind, we finally get to Cabo Vela where we would have to turn up directly into the wind. Our
plan was to take the staysail down and pull the traveller on our half reefed main way up. That way we thought we could keep the main up to
help stabilize the boat. Mistake. The wind was too strong and gusty for that. No sooner than we thought everything was under control, a
big gust shook the main and two battens flew out and crashed on the deck and into the water. Okay. No sails and motor into the wind. The
waves were also bigger since rounding the cape because the fetch was about ten miles instead of two to three. Fun stuff. However, we
managed to get five or six knots and after several hours we finally get to the shelter of Culebra.
The place is huge with many places to anchor in perfect protection from the winds. There is a lot of resort development around, but the bay
is so big you don't notice it at all. We get the anchor down and go to sleep early. But not before noticing our teak flag staff and United
States flag are gone. We have been in lots of wind before and never worried about our flag. Sometime during the last few hours the flag
and staff just got ripped out of its holder. Things were so loud and rough we never knew when it happened. Papagayo.
The next morning we are up early and motor a couple of miles to a brand spanking new marina (Papagayo Marina - cute) to fuel up and to
find the easiest way to clear out of Costa Rica because our next stop would be either Nicaragua or El Salvador. The marina had been open
only a few weeks and had two boats in what must have been a couple of hundred spaces. They had all the staff hired anticipating business
to pick up quickly and at the fuel dock we had at least six or eight guys giving us a hand. We decided to stay a couple of days.
The marina has the best floating concrete docks money can buy. The walkways were at least ten or fifteen feet wide. This place makes
Los Suenos look like Costa Rica Yacht Club. All the restaurants and shops are not open yet (they are under construction) and the grand
opening of the bar was the night we arrived. Once everything is developed, Papagayo Marina will be one grand place. And, there's a Four
Seasons Resort at the top of the hill. It cost three dollars a foot. Yikes.
We find out the scoop on clearing out. There is no easy way to do it. We will have to go to another anchorage (Playa del Coco) a couple of
hours away to see the Port Captain. There's no dinghy dock and we will have to land the dinghy on the beach through the surf. The
anchorage is supposed to be very rolly as well. We also find out that the Port Captain will not be in for the next four days, which means we
will miss a perfect weather window to get the hell out of Papagayo country. So. We'll leave the marina and anchor out for a few days and
watch the weather closely. Nothing to do but wait.
After waiting a few days at the anchorage at the head of Culebra Bay, we heading over to Playa del Coco. We left early enough to get
anchored and for Leta to drop Ellis at the beach (there is no dinghy dock) so that he could be at the Port Captain's office at eight a.m. We
had confirmed by phone the previous day that the Port Captain would be in. He was not. By eight thirty Ellis called Leta on one of our hand
held VHF radios and she called the Port Captain and marina to find out the story. Come to find out the Port Captain was inspecting a very
large sailing vessel anchored in the bay and would be back in the office by noon. In the meantime, his assistant would come to the office to
get the paperwork going for our Zarpe. About nine thirty the assistant opens the office and tells Ellis he has to go to the bank to pay a $20
fee and then to go to Immigration to get passports and crew lists stamped. Once he had completed all of that, the Port Captain should be in.
The bank was three or four blocks away and except for the fact that the line was thirty minutes long the payment of the Port Captain's fee
was easy. Ellis leaves there by ten or so armed with the right paperwork to prove that he paid the fee and heads another few blocks to
Immigration. A sign on the door says the office would be open at eleven. Ellis goes back to the Port Captain's office to let them know that
he could be later than noon because of Immigration office hours. He gets back to Immigration about eleven and has trouble communicating
to the official because she speaks absolutely no English and his Spanish is still very limited. Once the communication finally gets done, the
official shows Ellis that her stamp is not working. After Ellis screws with the thing for fifteen minutes or so, he finally gets the stamps he
needs to go back to the Port Captain. By the time Ellis gets back to the Port Captain's office it's noon and by twelve thirty the has the
Zarpe we need to get into Nicaragua.
Well. Ellis calls Leta to pick him up at the beach. By now the winds are howling at twenty five to thirty making for a wet beach landing and
pick up. Once back at the boat, the next challenge is how to get the anchor up in howling winds (it's much easier to drop anchor in heavy
winds than to weigh anchor, especially in a crowded anchorage - which it was).
By one thirty, we were headed back to the protected anchorage that we had come from and by three we were anchored again.
The only reason that we share this story is to give you some idea how archaic and slow clearing in and out of some countries can be. To
make matters worse, you are expected to leave the same day regardless of what the weather brings you. Needless to say, we did not leave.
Our plan was to wake up at midnight, so we could get around the notoriously boisterous Cabo Santa Elena (about 30 miles away) very early
in the morning. During the last several days, the winds had laid down overnight before picking up again mid-morning. We were hoping to
take advantage of that phenomenon.
We woke up at twelve, but the winds were still howling. We decided to sleep for a while and then check again (including receiving updated
weather files) around four. At four the winds were light and the weather files indicated that we should see less than twenty during the
coming day. We decided to give it a go.
Everything was going as planned until about ten. That's when the winds decided to blow. At first it was only twenty but before long it gets
to thirty then back to fifteen. The Papagayo winds are really gusty, but not the kind of gusts we are used to. Instead of gusting briefly, they
sort of build over fifteen or twenty minutes before deciding to start a slow decline. Then the cycle starts all over again. The good news was
that the wind was aft of beam and there were no seas to speak of since we were close to shore.
Okay. So far, so good. About eleven, we are approaching the long skinny tip of Cabo Santa Elena. Cabo Santa Elena is the end of a thirty
mile peninsula that culminates in a wind swept four story, forbidding promontory. All the cruise guides say to expect winds double the
forecast as you round the point. We wish we could have gotten a picture of that desolate place, but we had bigger things to deal with.
We had the engine on with half the main and all the staysail up. We round the point and face about 45 degrees into the wind. We are also
facing into a thirty mile fetch of waves. There's no need to go into all the gory details from here, but we basically got our asses blown off.
The sail combination was good so we were never in danger or necessarily uncomfortable, but it was slow, rough and wet for the three hours
or so to go the fifteen miles to safe anchorage at Bahia Santa Elena. During that time, Ellis saw 35 and Leta saw 38. Our boat saw the
most water on deck that it had seen for quite some time.
We finally get to the protection of the Bay of Santa Elena and anchor for the night. The bay is very pretty but not as pretty as the guide
books have you believe, but it was completely protected from wind and waves. There are a few gusts that make their way over and around
the peaks surrounding the bay, but nothing alarming.
That was a tough day. But it's over, no worse for the wear.
Up next was a twenty four hour trek to Puesta del Sol in Nicaragua. We were up early the next morning to make sure we got as far away
from Cabo Santa Elena as we could before the winds piped up.
Nicaragua (February 2009) - It was a long day and night. The good news was that any wind and seas would be from our aft quarter and
the seas would not have more than a few miles of fetch since we would be hugging the coast. Of course hugging the coast at night increases
the chances that you run over a fish net, so we stayed in at least 100 feet of water since that seemed to be as deep as the fishermen set
their nets. The bad news is that we saw twenty to thirty knots of wind all day and most of the night, which winds finally went to light and
variable about two a.m. Our sail combination of half the main with the staysail up worked well. In thirty knot winds the boat was stable and
we flew along at about seven and a half knots. Occasionally, the winds would get below twenty and we would get below five knots, but
before long, the winds would pipe back up. We averaged about six and were perfectly happy with that.
We get to the entrance of Puesta del Sol about dawn and were tied up at the marina about eight. We'll report on the marina later, but it
looks like a nice enough place to stay for a few days to rest up and wait for weather. Believe it or not, the Papagayos had not been blowing
very hard during the last few days and were expected to really pick up during the next few, which could affect our next planned sail to
Barillas in El Salvador. The good news was that we were getting far enough away from the Gulf of Papagayo so that the really heavy and
potentially dangerous stuff should be a thing of the past. Whew. Papagayo.
We are glad this part of the trip is over. We knew that the Papagayo winds could be problematic, but did not expect such strong persistent
winds during quiet weather forecast periods. We saw more thirty knot winds during a two day period than we had seen during the last three
years.
Puesta del Sol was nice enough, but nothing special. The entrance was well marked and easy in and easy out. The facilities were nice with
a restaurant and bar where you could order simple stuff like burgers and fries. The docks were okay, but sort of wobbly with very low water
pressure. And the electricity stopped working each and every day for several hours. I guess we would stay there again only because there
are not really any alternatives along this coast.
After three days, we had a weather window to Barillas. We left early morning to arrive twenty four hours later.
El Salvador (February, March 2009) - Our Papagayo celebration was a bit too early. Roughly half way to Barillas was the Gulf of
Fonseca. When the Papagayos are blowing especially hard, the Gulf of Fonseca gets in on the action. Having said that, we crossed the Gulf
in the middle of the night during a quiet wind forecast period. The wind did pick up, but only to about twenty for a couple of hours.
When we arrived at Barillas about seven a.m., the wind had virtually died. Barillas is up a river about ten miles and you have to cross an
extensive sand bar to get into the mouth of the river. The bar and the river channel constantly changes so you must have a pilot to lead you
in. We had arranged by email the day before to meet the pilot (in a panga) at the designated waypoint (which also changes periodically).
The pilot promptly leads us through the shoals and in two hours we are tied up to a mooring ball (Barillas has no slips). It was pretty rolly
getting across the bar, but once in the river it was smooth as glass.
In less than fifteen minutes after we picked up the ball another panga comes out with the Port Captain, Customs and the manager of
Barillas. After some paper work we go ashore with the group and the manager shows us around the place. He also takes us to Immigration
to get our passports stamped. Within thirty minutes or so, we are checked in to Barillas with all officialdom taken care of (with everything
contained on Barillas grounds). The facilities are very, very nice with manicured grounds, a bar and restaurant, a small store with basics
and several sitting areas around a pool all with power to plug in your laptop and to surf to your heart's content using very fast wireless.
Oh. A small modern town is about thirty minutes away by the Barillas supplied van. Leta says the supermarket was the nicest she has seen
in months.
The scenery is spectacular. Of course the river is lined with mangroves with all the wild life you would normally see (including crocodiles),
but towering over the mangroves are several active volcanoes all relatively close by. A couple of nights after we arrived, one of them had a
small eruption and we could see the red glow of fire and lava at the top. You don't see that sort of thing very often, if ever. Cool beans.
We would definitely come back to Barillas and would not hesitate to park our boat there during hurricane season.
We could have stayed much longer, but after five days we had a weather window to get through the Gulf of Tehuantepec and to Huatulco,
Mexico (a mere 540 mile jog). We left one morning with plans to arrive in Huatulco four days later.
| Dressed and ready to go |
| Linehandler Hines |
| Linehandlers Leroy and Rudy |
| Lots of turbulence up locking |
| Tying to the tug |
| Motoring across Gatun lake |
| Gaillard Cut |
| The Bridge of the Americas welcomes you to the Pacific |
| These photos are courtesy of Graham and Anne Soar - passengers on the tour boat and Juan Carlos Villarreal B. the tour guide |
| Panama City and Isla San Jose, Perlas |
| Scenes from Bahia Honda |
| Costa Rica Yacht Club at low tide |
| Scenes from Marina Papagayo - very nice!! |
 | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  |
| Approaching Cabo Santa Elena |
| Calm waters of Bahia Santa Elena |
| Good bye Costa Rica |
| Scenes from Barillas in El Salvador |