12:30 More dolphins, small ones this time and dappled grey, the first we've seen must be what our book calls Spotted Dolphins. They are more playful than most we've encountered in southern waters, staying with us, jumping and playing in our wake for a long time. The swell and the chop are on our quarter now - much more comfortable ride.
16:00 Isla Catalina, a tiny island next to the big island of Parida. We've got the detailed chart but it's still spooky as we work our way between the two and around the north side of Parida through rock infested waters. The bottom is very irregular and my heart stops every time the depth recorder starts showing a vertical rise. I chop the throttle and ease forward only to see it drop away again just as fast.
16:30 We turn the final corner and see Margorie Grace and Sadko anchored in what certainly looks like a little bit of paradise: a quiet anchorage (N 8 deg 7 min, W 82 deg 22 min), protected from all but a strong east wind, tucked in behind the tiny, quarter mile long, island of Gomez which, in turn, is protected by Parida; a beautiful white sand beach with waving palms between two high, jungle covered, rock promitories on either end; and a beautiful view of the surrounding islands. We do our usual survey and anchor in sixteen feet of water with an almost flat, sand and coral bottom.
It's been a long day, so after a martine and a dinner of fish in soy sauce we picked up one little Bonito on the way we hit the sack without even taking down the Metz. Plenty of time for that in the morning.
Deb and Bill had seen lots of limpets on one of the little rock islands just east of Gomez and Bill decided that we ought to try cooking some; so, near low tide he, Deb, Vince from Sadko, and I set off on a limpet hunt. No problem finding them - the little sandstone island was covered with them. If you catch them quickly, before they tighten down, they pop off the rocks easily. In ten minutes we had all we wanted. Deb was scraping them out of their shells with a big spoon and we were poking around the rocks when an aircraft buzzed us three times, once not more than a hundred feet above us. I didn't recognize the make; it was a low wing, single engine, fighter looking machine with a long narrow cowling and a greenhouse type canope, and painted dark olive drab like the Skymaster that buzzed us yesterday. He had his landing lights on and looked like he was making strafing runs as he'd swing around and make a pass over us, then another over the boats. Spooky!
I took our limpets home and left them alive in the bucket because Lois decided she'd prefer to take our smoked salmon to the planned potluck on the beach, but Bill was determined to have his limpets. We hadn't been back long when Deb was on the radio saying we needed to postpone dinner for an hour; they were having a heck of a time cleaning the limpets - they had a mucus which made their fingers stick together. They persevered and ended up with a spagetti sauce which really wasn't all that great. I'm not sure we'll mess with ours.
By the time everybody was ready it was almost dark, so they all came over to the Sea Raven where we ate our goodies then watched a movie that Bill had been talking about wanting to see ever since his machine ate our tape in May, a fun thing about kayaks, ultralights, and hang gliders which Dick and Allyn had recorded for us.
The palm beach where we went is quite a picturesque place, another white sand beach backed by tall waving palms, but through this one runs a fair sized stream. Swollen by this morning's rain, it was muddying the water all along the beach. We came in close and I had just dropped the anchor when I saw an iguana sliding toward the water just beside the stream. I pointed and said to Lois, "Look, an iguana!" As I said it, it slid into the water and I realized that I was wrong. It wasn't an iguana, it was a caiman, an alligator, about the size of a medium sized iguana, but with a long, pointed snout that led the way into the water. I didn't say anything more.
Vince was right. I waded ashore, walked to the nearest tree, and picked up four dried coconuts, all of which were firm and sounded like they had good fluid inside. I rolled them down the beach to the water and we took them back to our beach for husking. Bill had picked up a couple of green ones which he'd been keeping in his frige, so he brought them over with a bottle of rum and we went to work with our machetti's. Neither of us had ever husked a coconut before. We've watched the locals cut open the green ones for the milk, and Bill says he's seen them husk the dry coconuts by jamming them down on a fixed pry bar. He managed to get the tops cut off of his green ones and, after sipping some of the milk out with a straw, added rum. Deb and I weren't particularly impressed, but Bill and Lois sipped away while I worked on the husks of my nuts. The machetti is not the tool for that job! It's fine for cutting but it makes a poor prybar, and that's what you need to get the tough, fiber husk off. It was all I had on the beach, though, and I managed to get two of them husked and, while they were just starting to sprout, they still had good milk and thick, firm, and tasty meat inside. I gave one of the others to Pendria and saved the last for later.
We spent some time on Margorie Grace today looking at their charts and notes on the Panama pacific islands. They have some blueprint reproductions of two out-of-print detailed charts for the Perlas but, on close examination, I doubt that they are any better than the one chart we have. We got some good notes on anchorages though. The water turned a lot clearer today so Bill, Deb, & I went snorkling this afternoon, looking for lobster. They managed to find two small and one medium sized one; I saw lots of pretty reef fish, but never anything big enough to eat and no lobster. We found out why a little later when a dugout with a handsome young man and three boys came by they must have had a hundred lobsters in the bottom of the boat, and they'd been diving right where we were looking. Julio, the man's name, told me that he sold them in David, the city a few miles up the estuary. We bought six from him for $10.00. We're back to using U.S. money again in Panama it's dollars. Ain't that something?
Spent another couple of hours over on Pendria working on the new Sazuki outboard which Dick bought in Puntarenas. He had run it in a barrel of fresh water when he first got it but now, when he needed it, it wouldn't run. He and Bill had determined that there wasn't any spark, so I took over my wheel puller to use for pulling the flywheel. We hadn't even considered the points - on a brand new motor?? - until we got them out and found that they weren't making any electrical contact. There seemed to be a kind of varnish on the surfaces. With some sandpaper and my point file we corrected that situation in a moment, and it turned out to be the problem. When we got it back together the motor ran just fine. Something to remember in the future - new points aren't necessarily good points.
Didn't do a lot else today. This morning while I was working it was spectacularly beautiful with blue skies and air so clear we could see the mountains fifty miles away, but it clouded up and rained most of the afternoon, not enough to collect much water, just a steady drip drip drizzle. Hank on Hegria came in toward evening. I guess Winsom Flyer will be here tomorrow - they are bringing Bill's oil cooler. Had our first meal of lobster for dinner - uhmm, good!
By the time I got through in the engine room I was ready for a break, so we took the Metz exploring. We went back over to Parida and picked up some more coconuts Lois got really greedy this time and insisted we bring back a dozen which she bundled up in a big towel while she waded back to the anchored Metz. While we were there three long, beamy, panga looking boats filled with people came by, evidently on a Sunday outing. They anchored off Parida for a few minutes then headed off to the northeast. We loaded up our coconuts and circumnavigated Gomez on the way back, not a very difficult trick - the whole island isn't more than a quarter mile long. It does have a nice little cove in the east end that we hadn't seen before, but I don't think we could get Sea Raven in there - too many rocks around.
We took our Lovely Bunch of Coconuts to our little beach on Gamez then called the fleet and told them to come to the husking bee. Only Dick showed up. While we were working away, Winsome Flyer came in bringing Bill's oil cooler and he, of course, was anxious to get that installed. They've been stuck here for ten days now and you need a change of scene even in Paradise. Doug on Winsome Flyer was also into maintenance. They'd blown a fitting on their refrigeration on the way down - right after loading up with frozen goodies in Golfito. And on Hegria, Hank's radio has quit so he came over and used ours to talk to his brother-in-law in San Diego. It's always something! I'm just wondering what is going to break next on the Sea Raven.
More lobster for dinner still have one more meal from those we bought Friday. I don't mind; it will take a long time for me to get tired of lobster and it is better if you don't freeze it. (The book says the Pacific Lobster is really a crayfish because it doesn't have claws, but it tastes just as good as the real thing.)
11:30 Awning down, Metz up, and on our way. I'm glad we have good charts of the area; the first few miles are pretty shallow, kind of spooky, but the bottom is flat and the rocks, according to the chart, are all visible. I put out the fish lines with one hoochy and one Rapalla, but got nothing.
14:30 At what we think is the anchorage on the northwest side of Cavada (N 7 deg 59 min, W 82 deg 1.5 min). Here we don't have detailed charts; they don't exist. I'd seen a sketch that Deb and Bill have showing where to anchor, but nothing seems to fit. We tried several places, all where the bottom suddenly rose from over fifty feet to ten, and where Lois would wave me back and I'd give it full reverse to keep from going on the rocks. We finally found a spot that I thought had a reasonably large, thirty-plus foot shelf and dropped the anchor; but, even then, it drug on rock and we hung in fifty feet when we were through. I called Margorie Grace and Pendria and told them they'd better try another bay. They did, and found better holding in about thirty feet in sand near the northernmost cove. Since we seemed to be holding OK, and there wasn't any sign of weather, we decided to stay where we were.
I got down the Metz and went out to survey the anchorages. There are some really nice, deep bays but they are all shallow, not more than six or eight feet deep at this, a half tide. I could see the bottom as I ran along in the Metz, even with the wind riffling the water. Much of it will be awash on a low tide; and the bottom drops from very shallow to quite deep in a short distance. Other than for that problem, it looks to be a very nice place. There is almost no swell in the two large bays separated by a group of tiny islets. On the largest of these islets is a palapa roof and in the northern bay is a small fishing community. One of the local boats helped steer Margorie Grace to a decent anchorage. There's no habitation in our bay, although there was a man fishing from the beach when we first arrived. Across from the big island is another small island with a cave in the side which looks like a blowhole when the air which the swell has compressed inside escapes. It makes a roar we can hear half a mile away. The islands, of course, are jungle covered, with palms growing in the beach areas at the head of the bays. Nothing quite as nice as the white sand beach at Gomez, but a pretty place anyway.
Bill and Deb caught a thirteen pound yellowfin tuna on the way in (I pulled in my lines too soon) and gave us a big steak. We had to finish off our lobster or loose it, so we saved the tuna for tomorrow. The water here is very clear. I went for a swim but didn't go diving. Bill went out to a little reef where he said the visibility was fifty feet and there were big parrotfish about.
After the beachcombing we went out to the reef where Bill had gone last night and did some snorkling. That was fun! The water is so clear that you can see fish thirty or forty feet away, and there are a lot of them, almost every thing we've ever seen before plus a bunch of new ones. I bounced my spear off of a couple of big Parrotfish but didn't bring back anything to eat. I was using my sharp tip and there were three big blue scales stuck on the point of it after one of the hits. Bill tells me that you have to catch them going away so that the spear tip can get under the scales which are almost like armor plating.
After our dive we decided to mosey on to the next group of islands which are only about fifteen miles away. We put up the Metz and started hauling anchor. It was tough to do! I thought at first, then hoped, that the problem was that we had drug the anchor into deep water; but, as we passed the fifty foot marker and were still having to use low gear on the windless, I knew that something was wrong. The windless has a double action so that it pulls in chain on both the forward and aft stroke of the crank and now it was much harder to stroke forward than it was to stroke aft. We don't really have a backup for the anchor windless. I installed two bronze winches which I bought at the flea market in Sausalito at the stern and they can be used in an emergency, but they won't work with chain and it's a real project to deploy and anchor with them. Tuck has been bugging me to put in a hydraulic windless, but down here that's much easier said than done. Well, nothing to be done now but take it as it comes. We finally got the hook on board and headed off for Isla Brincano. This time I got the fishlines out right away.
About half way across we looked back and had a fish on each line - Dorado, they'd hit almost simultaneously; and, for the first time, I managed to get them both in. Two males with their bulging forheads, they were little guys one was four pounds, the other five. I got them put in the bucket and the lines back in and almost immediately had another one on, this time a bigger fish which danced on its tail trying to shake the hook. I had noticed a fray in the leader as I'd dumped the lure back in the water and had made a mental note to replace it, but now it was too late. About four or five good jumps and the fish was gone, along with one of my last remaining good stainless double hooks! Damn my procrastination!
About the same time that I was loosing the fish a squall which we'd been watching hit with 25 knot winds and we were soon splashing our way through the waves. We splashed all the way into the bay at Brincano where we found a lovely anchorage surrounded by high hills to protect from most of the wind and wave (N 7 deg 52 mn, W 81 deg 47 min). Because of the problem with the windless I decided to anchor with nylon instead of chain. It's a little more trouble but, if there is a problem, we can haul with the aft winches. I cleaned our fish, then went to work on the windless. As I took it apart I noticed that a screw in a small oil cover on the side was driven clear through the plastic. I must have gotten awfully heavy handed with the screwdriver when I put it back together the last time. The similar one on the other side was OK. I took everything apart that I could get apart, including one of the bearings so that I could get some new oil inside the housing, and everything looked OK - no sign of binding or wear, and everything seemed to be well lubricated. It also seemed to work fine with the covers off. I put it back together, pulled the crank a few times, and it bound up again. As I started taking it apart again I noticed that the screw in the little plastic oil cover was again driven deep into the plastic and knew that I hadn't done that again. Sure 'nough, I took it off and the movement was free! That dumb little screw had for some reason decided to start binding. It is in the end of the small gear shaft so it has a great deal of mechanical advantage in resisting the cranking. I hope that is really the problem - we'll know when we haul anchor, which we decided to wait until morning to do.
About the time I was cleaning up my tools Bill and Deb came in in the Margorie Grace, so we invited tham for a dinner of Dorado. Nice evening. Bill also owns an airplane, a Cessna 185 which he hasn't flown for many months. Had a good time swapping flying stories.
We went out with Bill and Deb exploring around the island this morning. There is a lot of water on it; we saw three waterfalls in going about a third of the way around. Stopped at one, went ashore, and lay in the cool fresh water coming down the rock face. There's another where, at low tide, you could get under to take a real shower. We'd started out to go around the island but it was a hot morning with no clouds and by the time we got to our third waterfall both Lois and I were feeling the tropical sun, so we turned back. Bill and Deb went on around but found nothing new. The island doesn't appear to be inhabited, although there's a small shelter on the beach near where we are anchored. This afternoon a fishing boat came in and dropped off three guys who got water from a stream running by the shelter and took it back to their boat. Later a very fast sportfishing boat roared in, stayed a while, then took off to the north at high speed just before a squall hit.
The squall was sort of spooky. We had re-anchored with chain in shallower water (The windless seemed to work fine as we hauled in the nylon line - I think the problem is solved) and the wind, when it hit, was from the worst possible direction, directly into the mouth of the bay and right toward the rocks. Margorie Grace drug and had to move out, but we held in there. It was just after dark so all we could see was the waves getting bigger and bigger in the flashes of lightning. Charley, our depth talker gradually went from 25 to 17 feet over the course of an hour before starting to call out increases again. I figured we'd start the engine when he said fifteen, but he never got there - thank goodness! By the time the wind started to die we were hobby horsing pretty good, something old Sea Raven doesn't normally do.
Had the chunk of tuna that Bill gave us for dinner. It was really good. I think that is the first time I've had yellowfin. The meat was quite light, like Albacore, firm, and had an excellent flavor. Of course Lois can make anything taste like gormet fare.
We hung around for a while after MG left. I went over to the beach at low tide and poked around in the two little streams coming out of the jungle behind the beach. The jungle is too dense, and the mosquitos too mean, to go very far away from the shore. About 10:00 we hauled up (The windless worked like it should) and headed out ourselves after setting a buoy that Bill made up for Pendria. ( They are still in the Secas and their depth sounder has quit, so we left the buoy in about thirty-five feet of water so they would know where to park.) Bill had headed straight out for an island called Afuera but we took a detour to another about three miles away from Brincano called Isla Uva (N 7 deg 49 min, W 81 deg 35 min). It is very similar to Brincano, although it doesn't appear to have as much water. The north anchorage looks well protected but would be crowded for more than a couple of boats. We made a pass through, then headed southeast again for Afuera.
13:00 Anchored on the north side of Isla Afuera (N 7 deg 42 min, W 81 deg 38 min) sort of tucked in behind two other small islands. Margorie Grace was already there. We got down the Metz and went exploring. There are half dozen pretty beaches scattered around our anchorage, one with hundreds of big Conch and rock scollop shells on it. It was high tide so we didn't try to find the source but we'll do some more looking tomorrow.
Since it was the last of the month and I'd asked Nan to send our mail on the 1st, I decided to call her on High Seas and got a really good connection through WOM in Miami on 2215. Nan sounded really great. I asked her to send our mail to the Pedro Miguel Boat Club. It is in Miraflores Lake after two of the three Pacific locks and people who have stopped there say it's a really nice place. It may complicate the canal crossing a bit but we're in no hurry.
Our evening squall almost missed us tonight. Started out looking really mean, but sort of petered out with the winds never getting over fifteen knots and only lasting for a few minutes. We had Bill and Deb over again, this time for a real treat of pork ribs. Sounds better than it was - the danged ribs I got in Puntarenas were all fat! How do you grow a pig with nothing but fat on its ribs???? Finished the evening and the month off with the movie Doctor Zhivago, kind of a dumb story but beautiful photography.
Bill, Deb, and I went snorkling this morning - I just can't convince Lois that she should try it, she'd like it. The water here is not as clear as it was the last couple of stops - I guess because we are nearer the mainland rivers - but it's nice and clean and clear enough to enjoy watching the colorful fish. That's about all I did. Bill shot one of the pretty blue and gold parrotfish and a trigger. I hit a big trigger but, as usual, was too far away for my little gun and the spear bounced off the shoe leather like skin. We looked for the source of all the conche shells on the beach but couldn't find any, not even any small ones. The bottom in front of the beach is shallow and sandy, with a scattering of coral heads but nothing resembling a sea shell. Do you suppose they come out only at night??? I guess we need to consult with the locals.
This afternoon we decided to move over to Bahia Honda, seven miles away on the mainland (N 7 deg 44 min, W 81 deg 31 min). Took us about an hour to run over there. It's a big, four square mile, fully enclosed bay with an island, Talon, in the middle. There seems to be quite a population: a small village on the island which we've been told has three stores, plus what appears to be farmland all around - cleared areas in the jungle with mais and bananas growing on the steep hillsides. We anchored in a deep cove in the west side of the bay which looked almost deserted, but in a few minutes dugouts began to appear from all over. The first to reach us was paddled by an ancient, wrinkled man and woman who looked much too old to be paddling about in the tiny dugout log they were sitting in. They smiled and chatted, and we smiled and chatted, and wondered what we could offer them that would be reasonable. They asked for nothing and offered nothing and pretty soon paddled off toward the island a mile away.
The next group were the traders, one woman and nine kids in four boats who had paddled all the way across form the island to see us. They had coconuts, limes, and some small, olive like, yellow fruits in a liquid filled bottle which they called "nanci". We bartered, something neither Lois or I are good at, giving them a ball and some fishline for the limes. The kids were fascinated with our boat, stretching to peek in the windows. I'd love to have them aboard but I'm afraid that would be flaunting it. The boats are something to see. All are dugouts but very few are very well made. Most have sides which have been scabbed on to a shallow dugout log; and all leak, some more badly than others. In each boat one small creature was kept busy bailing out the steady stream that came in through the cracks.
Our last visitor, well almost, was Domingo. We'd heard about him, a local farmer and entrepreneur who we were told might have some fresh vegetables. He had a small girl doing his bailing, but had only more limes and a couple of coconuts. He did say that possibly tomorrow he could bring some tomatoes. Nice guy, he's one of the few who can make me understand his Spanish pretty well.
Our truly last visitor appeared just about the time I was ready to hit the sack, landing on the underside of our rain flap. I could hardly believe my eyes! It was the biggest grasshopper I've ever seen. When I approached he jumped down into the galley sink, then onto the wall where I managed to get a measurement with my steel tape -- five inches from head to tail and a good inch across the body! Lois locked herself in the bathroom until I managed to capture him in a basket and get him back outside. Haven't had any trouble with other bugs; hope it stays that way.
We'd collected a little rain water, used it to do a load of wash, and Lois had a bunch of sheets and clothes out on the deck drying when we hauled anchor and ran over to Isla Talon, the island in the middle of the bay. Talon is about half a mile long and a quarter wide and appears to be almost completely under cultivation, with only a few areas on its steep hillsides still covered by the jungle. There are buildings almost everywhere there is a beach and quite a community on the west end. We ran slowly almost all the way around and dropped anchor about a half mile from the village in the shallows to the northwest. Hegira (Hank pronounces it Hedjira) was anchored near the shore. We hadn't gotten the hook down when the first dugout arrived, and the stream of visitors never stopped.
For the next five hours we had men, women, and children - mostly children - swarming out to see us and beg for books, balls, fishing line, candy, etc. They'd come with a fish, or a handfull of limes, or three eggs, or a bottle of nanci, presumingly for trade, but they seldom proposed anything specific. It was kind of fun at first but it didn't take long before we tired of it. One group of young men who had been diving had a dozen or more small lobsters, plus one big one. We made a deal for the bunch for fifteen dollars, and they went away giggling. I found out why when I discovered that they had held out the large one when they piled them in my bucket. Most of the children were very nice, but also very persistent. They just wouldn't go away. We'd talk with them for ten or fifteen minutes, maybe give them some fish hooks or trade for a bunch of tiny bananas, then say, "Adios! They would just sit or stand in their boats, watching and waiting - for what?
After about three hours of this we decided that the only way to stop the stream was to leave the boat, so we took our jerry jug and headed over to the village where we'd been told they had gasoline for sale. The center of the village looks at first to be quite modern, with twenty or thirty buildings, for the most part concrete block, lined up along a block long "street". On second look there are no motor vehicles, no electrical power, no signs on the buildings. The rest of the community is spread along the shore. We landed three times, being met each time by a swarm of children, before we located the tienda where the gasoline was sold. It was an unmarked concrete block building set back from the beach with a half dozen 50 gallon drums in front of a shed below the store. We've only seen a couple of outboard motors in the whole bay and I found out why when I asked the price of gas: $3.20 per gallon! For a $20.00 bill we filled our six gallon jug and got 80 cents change in Panamanian coin. While I was getting the jug filled Lois looked over the store. the shelves were stocked with things like soap, flour, sugar, and other basic staples. Nothing fresh, nothing refrigerated. The adults were friendly, but very reserved. We felt like visitors for another planet.
Back at the boat the stream of visitors started again and by this time we were ready for a little peace and quiet, so we started hauling anchor. What a job! When we finally broke the hook out we pulled up a chunk of grey clay twice the size of our 75 pound plow! You sure wouldn't have to worry about dragging in this place! We ran back around Talon toward where Domingo had told us his place was. On the way we passed a little islet which the birds had claimed for their own. It was covered with egrets, frigatebirds, and pelicans. After anchoring we took the camera and ran back in the Metz to take some pictures. It's interesting how the birds will lay claim to a single island which, to us, looks just like a dozen others in the vicinity. How do they pick a nesting ground???
We'd parked in a beautiful little cove in the north end of the bay and, just as he'd promised, Domingo showed up soon after five o'clock with a bag of green tomatoes. This time he had a boy and a little girl with him. He didn't want money (Fortunately because we'd given the lobster boys our last small bills) but asked for coffee which we were happy to trade for the tomatoes. He also wondered if we had any "dulce" (sweets) for the little girl, but we have nothing left on board; we finished the last of the M&M's last week. Domingo reminds us of Manuel, who we met in the Baja. Very intelligent, he has figured out how to communicate with the yachties to mutual advantage. He also seems to be quite a farmer. He has cattle grazing on the hill, bananas and coconuts and chickens in his yard, and who knows what else in his farm hidden behind the mangroves. He said he could provide us with fresh meat or chicken. Tomorrow we may go in to visit him.
We had some of our lobsters for dinner, small but just as tasty.
That was pretty much the story of our day. I moved the Evenrude outboard to the upper deck, got it securely lashed to the rail, and Lois made a cover for it. We didn't have many visitors over here in the far corner of the bay. The one young man who came by in the morning stayed for close to a half hour just standing in his dugout holding on to our rail and looking very serious. I tried to make a little conversation but it didn't go very well. He seemed to not know what to say, but he didn't want to leave. I don't know quite how to handle that; Domingo is talkative and enthusiastic, teaching and learning. We feel comfortable with him, but he's the only one we've found like that. The others all seem overawed by our affluence and, I suppose, have reason to be. It's hard to find common ground when they are sitting in a dugout canoe and you're on a quarter million dollars worth of yacht. The amazing thing is that guys like Domingo and Manuel can bridge the gap. They have something few people ever really achieve -- great confidence in their own worth, aside from their material possessions.
We'd kind of planned on meeting Margorie Grace out at Medidor, an island just outside the bay; but they called and said it was pretty rolly out there so we decided to stay here. Dick and Penny caught a 37 inch Dorado on the way over and, when they got in, gave us a couple of pieces in exchange for some ice. (They have no refrigeration) We had a few drinks in their cockpit while the rain fell gently outside, then we came home and Lois did her usual superb job on the fish in spite of being a little tipsy.
They hadn't been back very long when it started to rain, and it rained, and it rained, warm and wet. We were collecting water in our buckets and had filled the washing machine and had the buckets almost full again when the light went on in my head. Lois had been fussing for months now about rigging up a way to collect water directly in our tank, and I'd been worrying the problem but had been unable to come up with a simple solution. Now it suddenly seemed obvious. I stole one of Lois' plastic funnels, stuck it in the end of a piece of clear plastic hose we hadn't used for anything else, and hung it on the corner of our awning with a couple of debarbed fishhooks. Works great! The water runs right into the hose and over to the watertank fill fitting. We collected water for the next several hours.
Other than for that little triumph, the day was pretty uneventful. Over my objections (I can do the job easier than I can show somebody else how to do it), Lois had asked Domingo if his son could clean the topsides of the boat and, in spite of the pouring rain, both he and his son showed up for work and they insisted on doing the job. Lois did the supervising, holding the line for them as they went around the boat three times before Domingo was satisfied. The boat does look better, although I'll have to go over the yellow smile with phosphoric acid; they didn't understand that you have to let it sit on the surface for a while to get things nice and white.
Domingo says that there is a place called Club Pacifico on Isla Rancheria about fifteen miles away where there is a restaurant and lodge, a tourist facility. We might go over and check that out tomorrow.
09:00 Dropped our hook next to MG in a very pretty little bay on the west side of Medidora. This is really a neat place! There must be six different beaches, all with palm trees and some kind of small watershed. There's a small waterfall coming over the rocks only a hundred yards from our anchorage where Bill said he filled his water tank by just running hose from the stream.
We got ourselves settled and the goodies to Bill and Deb, then took the Metz out exploring. In one of the coves back near the entrance to the long, narrow bay we found a really nice bathing area. A waterfall about ten feet high falls far enough out from the rock to make a super shower, then forms three successive pools in the rock, each about a foot deep. While we were poking around this neat place Bill and Deb showed up with their laundry so Lois pitched in and the girls scrubbed away in the pools, washing and rinsing while Bill did the ringing and I took pictures with the video camera. Up another small stream we found a whole field of Birds of Paradise in bloom. It's really a lovely, lovely place.
Bill said that while we were out exploring Pendria had called saying that they had talked to another boat just coming from Isla Rancheria. They said the Club Pacifico was closed, that there wasn't much there, so Pendria had turned and headed for Cebaco. Great! We decided to stay here. There is just a little swell coming into the bay - Bill has his flopper stopper out, a flapper valve kind of thing which he hangs from his boom - so we carried out our little stern anchor and line ourselves up into the waves, then settled down to enjoy the view. Spent the afternoon just fooling around.
Went over to Margorie Grace for a dinner of tuna and dorado, plus a super corn dish that Lois made, plus a big chocolate cake she also made. We do tend to eat well! Played Pictionary after dinner - Bill & I whooped the girls.
07:57 Off and running about an hour behind MG. They really got out early this morning. It was a pretty uneventful ride down the coast to Cebaco, a few dolphins and pelicans, and an occasional fish boat were our only company. I had the lines out most of the way but no hookups - lots of trash in the water, including some good sized logs. I was talking to Bill on the radio when he hooked into a marlin. It was on light tackle and he said it just stood on its tail, shook a few times, then proceeded to strip the reel. They've decided to go into Naranjo so that the long hop to the Perlas is a few hours shorter. We've heard that Naranjo is a rolly anchorage so we'll stop between Islas Gobernadora and Cebaco. I need to change Gimmy's oil before the long run anyway.
Coming into Gobernadora there were three big shrimpers working in about twenty fathoms and lots of rain showers around. I was having a bit of a time trying to figure out what the radar was telling me.
12:00 Anchored off the mouth of a stream on the north side of Cebaco (N 7 deg 32 min, W 81 deg 12 min). Here in the channel between the two islands it's pretty well sheltered from the swell, only a little bit of roll, and the river delta makes a nice shelf to anchor on. We went to "home" configuration and settled down to read a while while we let the engine room cool down. By three o'clock I decided it was bearable and went to work changing the oil and filter. It went pretty well. I didn't spill a drop this time and by rigging up the big fan to blow air into the engine room I even managed to keep from loosing more than a couple of pounds while in my super sauna. The shower after I was through sure felt good. I didn't feel like taking a swim. The water here is clean enough, but muddy looking. We're in the mouth of a huge shallow bay called Golfo de Montijo, the outlet for several big rivers. We'll get lots of swimming again in the Perlas.
06:15 Departed Cebaco and ran around the end of the island toward Punta Mariato
17:15 Getting pretty rolly as we ride in the trough so we drop the foils in the water.
11:05 We turn northeast as we round Punta Muriato. This is the most southerly point on our voyage (North 7 degrees, 31.74 minutes). From now on we'll be heading north again.
17:00 Nice thirty-eight inch, eight pound Sierra! This time I keep my fingers out of the way!
19:00 West 80 degrees -- we are now east of Miami and crossing the shipping lanes
06:00 Almost there. As the dawn breaks we see a long line of squalls behind us with their giant tops shining in the sun long before it reaches the earth, an unearthly sight!
07:00 Anchored at Isla San Jose. Very rolly -- rocky bottom -- anchored four times before we got hooked and I still don't feel confident. Spent the day resting up from our overnighter.
Met Gerta and Dieter, a German couple who have lived here for eighteen years on their boat the Seermechen. They have a little garden hacked out of the jungle and trade vegetables to yachties for things like sugar and rice. There's a nice beach and a little stream running into the corner of the anchorage.
15:30 Would like to have stayed longer; but the wind was coming up, I didn't trust our hook, and it was uncomfortably rolly so we hauled up and ran up the island chain a few miles to Pedro Gonzalas.
16:30 Anchored with Winsome Flyer in a neat bay on the east side of the island -- nice white sand beach, and few "summer" houses along the shore which are now deserted, clear water, and a good holding snad bottom.
Worked most of the afternoon with Chistian and Vergini on their boat the "Astraeos" (God of the evening wind). It's an interesting boat, all welded aluminum with a centerboard. They just ran it over to the gently sloping sand beach, tied it to a couple of trees, and let the tide run out. We scrubbed the bottom while sitting in a few inches of water to stay cool. Later they came over for dinner. Christian is a chiropractor and Virgini has a PHD in international tax law. He speaks excellent English, her's is passable and she's fluent in Spanish. Fun evening!
10:00 Cruise generator getting erratic. Shut it down and checked. Appears that we are low on hydraulic fluid. Must be leak.
10:50 Anchored north of Contadora with Felix, Sea Biscuit, Akavit, Sadko, Margorie Grace, Hegira and Pendria -- quite a crew!
Contadora is quite a change from the things we've been used to. It is very much the modern resort complex, something we haven't seen since we left Mexico -- a big hotel, golf course, paved airstrip, restaurants, beachfront condos, grocery store with Lay's potato chips (at $4.00 a bag) -- the whole bit! We went ashore with Bill and Deb, bought a few things at the grocery store, then went to the restaurant where I called Nan and we had a beer. The restaurant is open, overlooking the bay, but very chic and well equipped.
Later we ran out to a little island to the north for sightseeing and snorkling. Lots of boobies, pelicans, oyster catchers, reef fish. Bill, who got scared a bit over at Moga Moga, was happy we saw no sharks.
Had dinner with twelve of the other yachties at Bab's restaurant, $4.50 hamburgers and $1.50 beers. Other things on the menu $9.00 to $20.00, about like U.S. prices.
11:00 Hauled up and ran down east side to Mogo Mogo.
12:00 Anchored with Winsome Flyer on NE side of Mogo Mogo -- wind, waves, rolly -- anchor dragging.
12:30 After lunch we hauled up ands headed back to Contadora.
13:15 Re-anchored in same spot at Contadora. Windy, rainy afternoon -- spent in on boat.
09:45 Departed Contadora for Taboga
13:30 Alarm goes off, we shut down, and I go to the engine room. A hose clamp on the sea water cooling line has come loose and there's water everywhere. It only takes about five minutes to fix the problem. I add a second clamp to make sure.
14:55 Anchored on the north side of the tiny island at Taboga. We took the Metz into the hotel with Bill and Deb and had a cerveza while Deb tried to call her step sister in Balboa. Looks like a nice little weekend resort spot.
08:00 Passed Flamingo Station and crossed the ship canal. No traffic so no excitement
08:30 Into the Balboa Yacht Club mooring area. A launch led us to a buoy and handed us a hawser. There's a 3-4 knot downstream current so we were thankful for the assistance.
Got ourselves dressed (shoes and long pants), waved down a launch and went
ashore. Migracion, at the head of the pier, took our passports and gave us a
receipt...they will be ready tomorrow...then we checked in at the BYC office
and bought a $15.00 life membership. They charged us $0.35/ft for mooring ($6.50).
Called the Admeasurment office (52-4570) and got an appointment for 08:00 tomorrow;
then had a couple of beers while waiting for WINSOME FLYER and MG. When they
arrive we all piled into a taxi driven by Salvador. He took us to the port captain's
office where we paid a $38.00 fee and got a 30 day navigation permit. He charged
$8.00/hr for his time, $12.00 for 1 1/2 hours. Back at the yacht club in pouring
rain, we had excellent hamburgers and more beers before heading back to the
boat.
| After Carlos finished measuring about noon we all went ashore again, piled into Salvador's taxi and took the ladies to El Ray, a huge market in a U.S. style shopping center. Bill, Doug and I went to the Migracion office to retrieve our passports, then to the Marine Traffic Control Center to arrange transit with the Canal Commission. It cost us $10.00 per passport at migracion and $155.00 at the CC ($50.00 Admeasurment, $70.00 transit fee, and a $35.00 refundable deposit). The admeasurment fee is for the boat and lasts forever. |  |
We guys got back to the yacht club about
15:30 and had a few beers while waiting for the ladies. They got back about
16:30, still with Salvador.