Firstly, and probably most obviously, I made it safely
across the Atlantic Ocean in about a month’s time and close to 4,000 nautical miles of
sailing. More on that later when I get
everyone caught up. I admit I should not
be this far behind with my accounts, however, I will also admit I never said I
liked to write so hope at least someone appreciates this besides my mother.
One other quick note before we start. I have included more photos in this entry because I know it takes time to click on the photo links to the right and want people to see some more photos but I have also uploaded a lot more for Honduras, Nicaragua, and added Panama and Columbia. So if you even have more time to waste at work you can check them out.
So let's head back to the Bay Islands of Honduras one last time and wrap up our southern sail along the East Coast of Central America. We had jumped ship from
the youthful monohull, Atreyu, to the luxurious cat, Windwalker, to take us on this journey. We would be going to islands that are getaways from getaways, where pirates are a legitimate worry, and where Twitter accounts are un-updatable. The list included a couple more of the Bay Islands, Vivorios, Providencia, San Andreas, Little Corn, and Bocas del Toro. Below is a map of our route and the islands to give an idea of the ground we covered:
Cayos Cachinos, Honduras (25 nm, 4 hrs)
A short day sail just east of Roatan, Cayos
Cachinos is probably the least inhabited of the Bay Islands and actually consists of 3 smaller islands and numerous islets that are to an island chain what Pluto is to the solar system. It’s a magical place where few tourists make it because of its inaccessibility. So inaccessibile that on one of the
islands they were taping Survivor Italy but don’t get too excited. The only thing we saw were the helicopters blazing in and out with, we presume, those voted off the island. Not that I watch any of the Survivor shows but from what I know of the American version, it appears the Italian version is a bit more severe in that they fly the latest loser to the top of the island and dump their body overboard into the fiery pit of the volcano where their screams quickly became inaudible. I just made that last part up.
Here is a view from the old lighthouse on top of the main island looking across the protected cove to the 'Survivor' island:
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| Our boat is the lone white speck between the two islands. |
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| Unholstered and ready for action, or a picture. |
Aside from the few guests at the tiny resort on the island and the local Garifuna fishermen, we had the place to ourselves. However in the event that there was a security risk, we all felt safe in the rested hands of Manuel, the lone island/resort security guard, as long as he wasn't nodding off after a few morning cervezas.
Due to its lack of access and infrequent visitors, it is home to one of the least touched coral reefs in the area and is by far one of the most beautiful reefs I have ever seen. Whether you scuba dive or just go for a snorkel, it is absolutely stunning from the kaleidoscope of colors in the reef, to the numerous swim throughs and shallow canyons, to the eagle rays that glide by uninterested in your presence.
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| Even the shrimp are brightly hued in this amazing underwater-world of colors. |
Ironically the smallest of the three islands, and most likely to get washed out by a large wave, is also the most populated. It is home to a Garifuna tribe that welcomes visitors to tour their enclave of wooden shacks and enjoy a home cooked meal of fresh fish along with other Garifuna favorites. I have mentioned the Garifuna peoples before but for those who missed it, they are descendants from a wrecked slave ship
in the late 17th century who survived, escaped, multiplied, and now inhabit the entire Central American Caribbean Coast and Los Angeles. Their status as an ethnic minority group throughout the region usually allows them exemptions from the local government and donations from NGO's leaving them free to laze about most of the time with the occasional bit of fishing and soccer thrown in to break up the day, the latter of which they are happy to let you join in. Of course local soccer rules apply which include being taken forcibly to the sand with or without the ball, taking the ball around a house to escape the defence, and using small children and chickens as goal posts no matter where the may roam.
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| Our Garifuna chef preparing a freshly caught Kingfish for dinner. |
Guanaja, Honduras (55 nm, 10 hrs)
Said to be the Venice of the Caribbean because of its canals that cut through the island, the only thing that reminded me of Venice here was
that when I took a piss it still hit the ground. The good thing that came
from our visit here was that we got a freshly frozen bag of lobster tails that
fed 7 people for 2 meals for 20 bucks. Not too shabby. And by fed, I mean, Crystal and I took a crash course via the internet on how to prepare lobster and can say they came out pretty damn tasty. The bad thing that came from here was I got a mild case of the Dengue
Fever which held us up for a couple days until I recovered. I also came to the realization that the brown splotches on my hand were from a mild form of leprosy that was going around Roatan. Crystal and I got to share this one since we like holding hands so much. We were told it would just go away in a few weeks and it was no real worry. Good to know. So now that is two more tropical diseases I can add to my list.
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| As the sun sets, the clouds build before our departure from The Bay Islands. |
Vivorios, Honduras (197 nm, 38 hrs)
After Columbus took 3 months to complete this same leg, he named the horn Gracias a Dios (Thanks be to God). Eventhough it only took us a day and a half, I was thinking the same thing. Fighting a strong current, mixed seas, headwind, and frequent squalls, we were all glad to pull into this obscure island haven. Technically Honduras claims Vivorios and the surrounding islets but as it lies about 50 nm off the baren corner of the country, the only things that seem to lay claim to these sandy patches of land barely rising above the sea are fishermen/pirates.
Before we even dropped anchor, we were surrounded by 3 small fishing boats each with about 3 to 4 disheveled men who were eyeing us just as much as we were eyeing them. We were the only boat there at the time and these men lead a desperate life barely sustained by fishing and any other opportunities that may arise. We intentionally sailed to Vivorios and not one of the islands closer to the mainland to avoid the threat of piracy however even just last year a single-handed sailor was killed here while his boat was looted. We had everyone come up on deck so they could see our numbers as both sides discussed our next move. We decided to break the obvious tension and began into a friendly greeting and conversation. After apprehensive glances made their rounds between all parties and the fishermen held meeting amongst themselves again, two of their boats departed and one stuck around to show us their catch. It appeared we had won out and they began to barter their fish for cigarettes, water, knives, and women (which was more like woman, that woman being Crystal). We figured we could help them with all of the above except the knives (insert smiley face emoticon with winking eye) as we would be spending the night here and wanted to stay on good terms.
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| Where regulation is nonexistent, fishermen show off their catch of fish, sharks, and a lonely turtle. |
Once cordial relations had been established, we were able to relax and enjoy this true tropical island paradise. With just enough sand and a handful of palm trees to be classified as an island, Vivorios provides a welcoming anchorage to break up the trip going around the corner to Providencia or Nicaragua. We all hopped in the crystal clear water for a snorkel and swim to the island. Some swam faster than others due to the large amount of barracuda that immediately welcomed and began circling us as soon as we jumped in. Everyone eventually made it to shore physically unscathed and took their own time to circumnavigate the shores which if walked slowly took about 15 minutes. That night we dined on conch ceviche from conch we had plucked off the sea floor during our snorkel and fresh Kingfish we caught en route to the island while the stars from a clear night sky twinkled overhead.
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| Counting steps to see exactly how big the island is. |
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| One of these is not like the others. |
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| The shallow grave of a presumed fisherman. |
As we lifted anchor the next afternoon and began our sail south through calmer waters and fair wind, I think we all looked back at one point or another probably realizing we would never return here but it is a place we would never forget.
Providencia, Columbia (200 nm, 40 hrs)
After we got through the shoals and our route turned due south, the sailing was perfect. Light air coming from aft and smooth seas. This took us straight into the two little known island jewels of Columbia. Yes, they lie a good ways from their country of governance and much closer to the mainland of Nicaragua but they are definitively Columbian.
Providencia is the smaller of the two islands and as it is the more northern of the two, we stopped there first. Unable to conquer this island by foot, we were forced to rent scooters which allowed us to complete the lone road around the island in about 45 minutes if we didn't stop. However stopping frequently to get your feet wet at the picturesque beaches, to watch a baseball game, or to chat with the friendly locals couldn't be passed.
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| ... must use tire swing. |
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| Another awesome beach around the corner... |
This blip of an island was also the outpost for the famed Captain Henry Morgan. The lore of hidden treasure can be heard from the whispers of the locals and easily imagined as you explore the jungle and rocky outcroppings around the island.
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| Captain Morgan's Head greets sea farers as they enter the harbor. I can see the face but to say it's his head is a bit of push unless he was related to the Elephant Man. |
San Andreas (55 nm, 10 hrs)
Little Corn, Nicaragua (80 nm, 16 hrs)
There are two Corn Islands, Little Corn and Big Corn. The first thing to know is no one goes to Big Corn. Everyone goes to Little Corn and by everyone that means the local population of a few hundred locals plus the few intrepid backpacker types that make the difficult trip overland to the East Coast of Nicaragua and catch a ferry to the island. I do have to say that their tenacity in getting here without a boat definitely pays off. This is the most relaxed hamlet of an island you could ever imagine finding. With just enough conveniences to keep you comfortable and inviting people will make you want to stay longer than you intended. There is no electricity from 5 am to 2 pm everyday but there are plenty of white sand beaches and hammocks that seem like they were put out just for you all around the island.
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| So much beach, so little time. Which hammock first? |
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| The perfect spot for sunset. |
We were lucky enough to be there for the Big Corn vs Little Corn double-header baseball game and also lucky enough that Little Corn won both games. Way to go home team! You know you are watching a baseball game on a tropical island when the outfield doesn't end with a fence but a jungle and a woman in the stands tells the batter, "Stanley, hit it in the mango trees." This meaning hit it out of the park.
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Roberto - snorkel guide and right fielder.
Keeping his reflexes sharp as he sneaks up on this nurse shark. |
Bocas del Toro, Panama (200 Nm, 40 hrs)
Finally, after about 3 weeks, we arrived in Bocas which was everyone’s getting off
point as the skipper had to get the boat down to the Panama Canal to meet the
owner. Crystal and I definitely didn’t
explore this area as much as I think is due to it. There is much more to see aside from the main
island of Bocas however after seeing fantastic islands for the past 3 weeks, being in a rush to get to mainland Columbia, and getting fed up with the skipper, we made a quick getaway, flying to Panama City, after just spending one night here. However, even though our time here was brief it was anything but uneventful.
Long story short, whilst yelling at the skipper to pay up on money owed me as he walked down the main street while I was wearing just a pair of swim trunks, I learned you can get a ticket for walking down
the aforementioned main street with your shirt off. Just got a warning. Also, if you happen to visit the police captain, immigration officer,
and local judge, it is best to have a shirt on as well or else you have that much
more explaining to do. Shoes wouldn't hurt either. If you aren't at least chuckling yet, please picture me in just trunks (no shirt, no shoes) in the most official building this town has to offer trying to explain my side of the story to a judge. It was hard not to laugh myself at the circumstance I was in but at least I made it this far. In the States I couldn't have even gotten into a 7-11 much less an appointment with a judge.
Ok enough of that. I decided with all the baseball talk I should at least include one picture of a baseball field and the one in Bocas was my favorite. The baseball/soccer field was at the end of the runway of their international airport. The kids played on no matter what was coming in on final approach.
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| Not the best picture, but you can see the plane turning off the runway as the batter waits for his pitch. |
So that sums up my sailing down south. Well over 800 nm covered and a great time was had by all. Next up is the overland and high flying adventure through Panama and Columbia. Bon voyage!
Cheers,
JB
