Paul and I left as planned on the 21st of December. We all had a wonderful Christmas at home, and I got pretty well caught up on business issues and the home project list. I didn’t return to Huatulco and the boat until the 13th of January. I came alone to get through the ever-present “project list” and to watch the Tehuantepec weather conditions, while checking around with my friends for a perspective crew to go with me through this treacherous stretch of water. (The last time Paul and I went through there, on a sailboat, we experienced hurricane force winds. Statistically, the winds in the Tehuantepec “gap” exceed storm force for more than 130 days per year and January is the peak month for such activity).
Mike O’leary let me know that he had a time slot between the 22nd of January and the 2nd of February when he could come down. The Tehuantepec wind forecast looked pretty good, at least from the 22nd through the 25th. That was plenty of time to get across the Tehuantepec gap but would be tight to get all the way to Panama. However, we could get to either El Salvador or Costa Rica comfortably. Since I didn’t have commitments for anyone else to come down after Mike left, I knew I might have to leave the boat for some period of time wherever Mike had to leave ship's company. Costa Rica has a reputation for petty crime that makes me nervous when I think about leaving the boat unattended. Accordingly we opted to go only as far as Marina Barrillas in Bahia Jiquilisco, El Salvador.
I had our Zarpe from the Port Captain in hand so when Mike arrived in Huatulco on Friday, the 22nd. Customs had been aboard for final inspection and had added their stamp. All we needed was our passports stamped by Mexican Immigration to be good to go and they had graciously agreed to send someone to the boat after the last incoming flight at the local airport that evening.
Mike arrived about 3 pm, we stopped at the local supermercado for some last minute provisions and the Immigration lady showed up at 7:45 pm. We were underway by 8:00. As it turned out, this time, our transit through the dreaded Tehuantepec gap was a non-event. We had some mildly active seas for a few hours before we got there. After that, we literally had “mill pond” conditions, for almost all of a direct route to our anchorage in El Salvador. The winds apparently started to blow again on Tuesday, the 26th, but we were well through it by that time.
The first morning, I brought a small striped marlin to the boat. (No picture. Mike slept through bringing the engine to idle and me yelling loudly from the cockpit). I had just grabbed him by the bill when the hook shook out, so I just let him go. For the next two days, we hooked up with 5 other marlin and one sail fish, but were unable to bring any aboard. (We would have released them, anyway). We did catch one nice, but small, yellowfin tuna that provided us with several great meals, however. That fishing result, by the way, is consistent with our experience when Paul and I travelled this part of the world. It’s very difficult to get a good hookup on a jig when your travelling along with the rods unattended. You get hit. Sometimes they stay on for a while. But, you lose most of them.
As we reached the Guatemala border with Mexico, we were approximately 20 miles offshore early in the morning. Suddenly three pangas, with only one person in each, roared across our bow, heading even further offshore. I waved at them, none waved back. One of them passed pretty close and just glared at me when I waved. You can draw your your own conclusions as to their destination and purpose. As we approached our destination in El Salvador, we were still ahead of schedule, so turned offshore toward the edge of the continental shelf and, we hoped, better fishing. That course change was apparently monitored because it was only a short time later that a large aircraft, (I was asleep, but as Mike described it, it may have been a C130), with USA markings and an AWACS dome buzzed the boat only a few feet above the sea, turned around and buzzed us again presumably taking pictures. 'Tis, indeed, a strange world we live in.
On Tuesday morning, January 26th we reached our destination. Club Marina Barriles is in an estuary about 8 miles inland. To reach it you must cross a bar that has no buoys or markings. When you get about 1 hour from a published rendezvous point, you hail the club on VHF and ask for a “pilot”. By the time we got to the rendezvous, we could see a bare bones panga with two people aboard. They gestured for us to follow them through a very tricky, narrow, opening with breaking surf on either side. After that, we stayed behind them through the estuary channels, which were more than 20 feet deep, all the way to the mooring area. When we got there, the guys on the pilot panga helped us tie up to a mooring ball, then roared off to the dock. Within a couple of minutes, they were back with: a nice lady that spoke excellent English, a representative of the El Salvador Navy, a customs inspector and an immigration official. They came aboard together. The Navy guy made an inspection while the others reviewed our papers. Within 10 minutes they reloaded onto the panga, asking me to join them, bringing both our passports. I was then escorted about 100 yards ashore to an on-site immigration office where they stamped our passports. The whole experience was painless and took only about 20 minutes from start to finish. I wish every country could do it that thoroughly and quickly.
On Friday, we joined with Brian and Dianne of the DeFever 40, Stettler, on another trip. This time we visited the El Salvador equivalent of Pompeii. Joya de Ceren is a recently excavated Mayan village that was buried in volcanic ash in pre-columbian times. We also went to San Andres, a more classic Mayan ruin nearby. The most interesting stop of the day was to an El Salvadorean military museum, where we got some insight into the army’s take on the civil war. There reportedly is another museum that does the same thing from the Cuban-sponsored rebel perspective. We haven’t gotten there, yet.
On Saturday, Mike and I took the dinghy apart in what ultimately proved to be one more unsuccessful attempt to stop the air leakage in the floor and starboard tube that has plagued this boat since we got it. Our next dinghy will not depend upon holding air in anything! Sunday and Monday, we just laid back and enjoyed the pleasant location and did minor work on Arcadia I. We also spent some time on Stettler, trying to improve the performance of their air conditioner, with mixed success. On Tuesday, the marina picked Mike up at 4am to take him to the airport and on to Houston, where he has to rejoin the productive world.
On Wednesday morning, Phyllis arrived. We’ve truly enjoyed a laid back vacation together here in the marina. We do a little work on the boat each day, but mostly we’ve just enjoyed one another’s company in an uncharacteristically quiet environment for us. On Saturday, Bill and Linda Edwards brought the Nordhavn 40, Wayward Wind, into the marina. On Sunday, Phyl and I had the marina’s driver take us on a tour of the coffee country in the mountains nearby. The picture below was taken by a caldera lake in a volcano nearby. Since it was Super Bowl Sunday, we joined other cruisers in the clubhouse. They watched the game, we visited with them and Bill and I smoked some good cigars.
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