June 11, 2013 Making Our Way from Mexico to Costa Rica

June 17, 2013, 13:00 a.m.  Kalliope roars eastward with a bone in her teeth.  We are in our eighth night at sea on what was planned as a seven day passage from MX to C.R.  There were a few problems, so it is good to make swift progress toward our goal.  Our weather router, Gregg examining the wind predictions before the trip decides to go far offshore to avoid adverse winds near the coast.  Bad idea!  Westerly winds do not appear, but this norther is better. 

Did I mention a few problems?  Our third night out from Mexico, sailing among thunderheads and lightning, with only a tiny sliver of moon, we are hit by a sudden wind squall which knocks Kalliope over on her side.  We take on seawater through an open port.  Deb scrambles to close the port and Gregg dashes from his bunk to the cockpit to release the sheets.  This allows the sails to flap violently in the wind.  Kalliope quickly resumes her more dignified mast-vertical posture.  We lose a computer, a camera and chargers for nearly all hand held gadgets plus our two best sails are damaged before they can be successfully reefed.  Because of this event, blog entries for this period are not accompanied by relevant photos.

Our effort to continue East to Costa Rica is thwarted by contrary wind and current and damaged sails.  After several days our water is running low so we head north for the coast eventually arriving at Golfo Fonseca which is bordered by El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua.  The transmission is acting up and we need a port that doesn’t require a lot of motoring so we choose Amapala, Isla El Tigre, Honduras.

 “U.S. citizens should be vigilant of their surroundings at all times and in all locations, especially when entering or exiting their homes, hotels, cars, garages, schools, and workplaces. Whenever possible, U.S. citizens should travel in groups of two or more persons; avoid wearing jewelry and carrying large sums of money or displaying cash, ATM/credit cards, or other valuables; and avoid walking at night in most areas of Honduras or walking alone on beaches, historic ruins, and trails. Incidents of crime along roads, including carjacking and kidnapping, are common in Honduras. Motorists should avoid traveling at night and always drive with their doors locked to deter potential robberies at traffic lights and on congested downtown streets.”

Quote from U.S. state Department Dated June 17, 2003,  OOPs!  We arrive in Honduras ten days later under duress due to lack of water and don’t receive the updated warning until about July 10.

June 27, 2013 – Amapala Honduras

Not having good charts, I cut the corner around El Tigre island a little too close and miss going aground on a rock by about 2 feet.  No tide information either so we are fighting a wicked ebb to get in but it is not quite fully dark when we are securely anchored.  Clearing-in is easy with customs and immigration in separate offices on the pier where everyone comes ashore.

Day 1 we sleep late, then walk around the tiny commercial district and orient ourselves, particularly identifying a source for bottled water in 5 gallon jugs.  We get seven jugs aboard and figure out how to transfer it to the tanks before the sun goes down.

Day 2 we arrange for a tour of the ten mile circuit of Isla Tigre, a symmetric volcanic cone rising out of the calm waters of the Gulf of Fonseca.  Our ride is a tricycle powered by a small motorcycle engine.  It can carry three people in comfort and more in a pinch and has a roof but no window glass to obscure the view.  The island promotes seven beaches and we stop for all of them, though they saved the best for last.  It is called Playa Grande and features a horizontal cave with one opening completely drowned at high tide and the other end about a hundred feet away accessible to tourists at all tides.  We arrive at low tide and cautiously observe the many bats making their home in the cave.  It is called the Cava de Sirenes which translates as mermaids.  Later, enjoying refreshments at the Lighthouse Restaurant, we meet the first of several characters to appear in Amapala.  Marcel, a divorced Canadian age 62 begins, after five minutes, to describe the violent relationship he just left with his Honduran girlfriend age 22.

Later Marcel introduces us to Paulo:  “I was born in Puerto Rico and raised in New Jersey from the time I was six.  My father worked hard on the railroad to support his wife and my eight brothers and sisters.  He felt that mama’s place was at home looking after us.  I went into the Navy right out of high school.  I was on a big ship lobbing 16” shells into Viet Nam.  We didn’t know who we were killing.  Well, I married a good woman.  We worked hard, raised our kids, then settled in Honduras.  We have a home in Tegucigalpa and another one here in beautiful, peaceful Amapala.”

Then we met Jaime at his business up the hill from the waterfront toward the school:  “Yes, I spent 16 years in the states.  I worked construction in the daytime and restaurants at night.  Well yea, I usually got three or four hours of sleep a night.  I was in D.C. at first, then I moved to Maryland.  Baltimore was bad because the blacks there hate the Hispanics.  They would just as soon kill you as look at you.  D.C. was fine.  No problem there.  Well, after working hard for a few years, I came back here to Amapala.  I just have my little restaurant and my twelve year old son here.  It is just him and me.  His momma is gone-divorced.”

We call the next character Manuel and assume he was born in Honduras.  He sought us out at the landing where he and his family were waiting for a launch to take them back to the mainland and the road system: “Yes, I live in the states, Orlando near Disney World.  Nice place with two gates.  (Here he pantomimes a wireless remote control.)  We are just here for the day visiting my wife’s relatives.  I worked 25 years in the aerospace industry on Long Island.  We sold electronic components to Boeing and Lockheed-Martin.   Now I am retired, just enjoying my kids and grandkids.  Yes, we’ll be back in Tegucigalpa tonight and in Orlando on Sunday.  Nice visiting with you.  Good bye.”

 There were other characters, but this is enough for now.  Paulo described Amapala as peaceful and we found it to be so, though we were home well before dark each day.  No one bothered us in town or on the boat.  Out of curiosity we asked about the police and the response was:  “Yes, we have one.”   And they pointed to a government building.  The people appeared very poor and they were eager to lend a hand wherever needed, apparently hoping for a tip.  We felt we got good value for the US dollars exchanged at the general store which functioned as the bank.

Our passage from Honduras to Costa Rica was relatively uneventful and pleasant.  We were boarded by an official representative of Nicaragua in Nicaraguan territory on day one – an 18 year old boy in shorts and flip flops armed with a clipboard.  He was delivered by a small skiff and backed up by a sophisticated rigid inflatable chase boat standing by about half a mile away.  In spite of language differences, he took down standard information about boat registration, crew names and nationality, etc. thanked us politely and returned to the waiting skiff.

I remember telling one of the officials in Chiapas, MX that we planned five to seven days for our passage to Costa Rica.  We left Mexico June 8 and arrive in Costa Rica July 7.  Allowing for three nights spent at anchor in Honduras, I figure the passage actually took 27 days of round-the-clock watches.

 

July 18, 2013 Early days in Costa Rica

Kalliope finally arrives in Costa Rica sailing into Bahia Culebra with a lame transmission and stumbles on a perfectly calm anchorage near Playa Panama beach park and the pleasant tourist destination of Playa del Coco.  We check in with the port captain and immigration.  We are welcome for 90 days but that is it.

The officials suggest we go to the beachfront restaurant next door to ask “Popin” if he can help with our mechanical problems.  He pulls the transmission the next morning and five days later knocks on the hull to install the rebuilt unit.  We couldn’t be happier.  We did not expect any mechanic in this rather remote spot and certainly not one so efficient.

“Now what else do you need?” asks Popin.  We mention a sail loft to repair some damage to our main.  He suggests a man who does excellent work, pulls out his phone, arranges a meeting and offers to be there to interpret.  It is like this wherever we turn.  If someone hears we lack an item or service, they are anxious to help with directions, a ride, a contact or at least a sympathetic ear.

Deb and Gregg are both overdue for visits to family.  Gregg pulls the short straw and Deb is off for a visit to N.Y. and Vermont.  Early reports include: “I forgot how green and beautiful upstate New York is with the mountains and rolling farmland.”  If this blog entry is excessively wordy, blame it on Gregg sitting in Costa Rica with time on his hands.