4 June 2010 - Loaded onto Dockwise

This posting is in response to a lot of interest in the process of shipping on Dockwise that has been expressed by other cruisers. Arcadia I has been shipped this way four times now, although the first three times were while she was owned by Dave and Sally Chambers whom, incidentally, I had the pleasure of meeting for the first time while we were here in La Paz.

We loaded about a month later than the schedule originally put forward by Dockwise. We put Arcadia I aboard Super Servant III on the 4th of June. Except for the delay in starting, we couldn't have asked for it to go more smoothly.

The paperwork for the La Paz loading was accomplished on board Arcadia I on June 2nd. Dockwise' customs agent was quick and efficient, once I got connected with him and the documentation required straightforward. There were no surprise requrest for unexpected documents or additional fees. The paperwork for the Nanaimo unloading came in the form of a .pdf form that I filled in. Since I have a scanner aboard, I attached copies of my passport and the USCG documentation to the .pdf file, (the only documents other than the form itself), sign the form electronically and turn it around. That whole process only took a few minutes.

All the boats to be loaded were instructed to be alongside the Dockwise ship by 07:00, each with two line handlers aboard. I engaged two local men by referral from the CostaBaja Marina office. Both were experienced boat people and one had loaded boats on Dockwise before. I couldn't have asked for better help.

As we arrived, the ship's deck was still dry, although they had started to ballast down.

Promptly at 07:00 the Loadmaster came up on Channel 16. He identified the first three boats to load and told them exactly where they would be located aboard and where they should have their fenders and dock lines placed, (bow, stern and two spring lines on only one side in every case I heard). At about 07:30 he called each boat, in turn, reminding them where they were going.  As he called each boat to come aboard, he identified the next boat in the sequence, keeping three boats queued up. We were the 5th boat to load. As you can see, the ship arrived with several boats already loaded from earlier ports of call.

We were directed to tie to the starboard side of a center walkway structure. As we entered the bay, we literally handed the lines to the waiting Dockwise crewmembers. They walked us into position and tied us off. Our fenders had to be relocated somewhat, since there was no flat wall near the water line where we had placed them, but we easily fended off by hand until we could accomplish that. The whole process took only a few minutes.

The sailing vessel directly in front of us loaded in Ft. Lauderdale. He had stayed on his own boat during the transit from there to La Paz and intended to continue to ride during the remainder of the transit to Nanaimo.

After tying up, we made our way forward on the center walkway to the ship's office to hand over our keys and sign the manifest. As you can see, they can fit a lot of boats on this ship. You can just make out Arcadia I's pilothouse in this picture, (immediately behind the sailboat with the green sail covers).

My crew and I, along with that of another 6 or 7 boats, were on the launch headed back to CostaBaja by 08:45.

After all the boats are loaded, Dockwise divers set the stands under the boats they've just loaded. At sundown, I drove back to where I could see Super Servant III and she was still flooded down. The next morning, however, she was riding high in the water again, with all the boats on stands just as if they were on the hard in a boat yard. 

We've been told that they actually weld these stands to the deck, then place hold down straps to rigidly attach our boats to the ship. We saw 4" nylon straps draped across the boats already aboard. During subsequent loadings, they apparently just loosen them to let the boats rise freely above the stands when they ballast the ship down. 

The next posting should be in Nanaimo, where we unload.

  

22 May 2010 - Singapore to Palao

This posting describes an adventure different than the others in this log, since the passage described was not made on Arcadia I.

While at home awaiting the arrival of the Dockwise carrier that is to ship Arcadia I from La Paz to Nanaimo, I visited our good friends and across the street neighbors, Brian and Dale Bumgardner. They mentioned that their seafaring son, Dustin, was to Captain a crew engaged to deliver a 47' Grand Banks from Singapore to Palao. I said, "Wow! I'd love to make that trip!", of course.  At that point, however, Dustin already had his crew list filled and there didn't seem to be any likelihood that I could go. Then, at the last minute, one of his crewmembers had a family emergency and could not go, and I was invited to participate.

I left LAX just before midnight on May 3rd for the long flight via Hong Kong on my favorite trans-pacific airline, Cathay Pacific. Because we crossed the International Date Line, I arrived in Singapore just after noon on the 5th. Another of the crew, Mark de Castro was aboard the same flight from Hong Kong to Singapore, although I didn't know it until we connected with Dustin at the airport. We went directly to M/Y Mandy at Keppel Marina. The owner, Shallom Etpison, was aboard seeing to final details of preparing the boat for the trip.

We spent the remainder of the 5th and all of the 6th of May completing a minor worklist and provisioning Mandy. The afternoon of the 6th, we moved her over to the Singapore Yacht Club's customs dock after fueling her at the marina fuel dock. As you might expect in Singapore, customs and immigration clearance was accomplished in a few minutes, exactly at the scheduled time the morning of the 7th. Here's a picture of my crewmates for the voyage just before we left. From left to right, Mark de Castro, Jim Persinger, Dustin Bumgardner.

We moved her across the way to fill two 75 liter reserve fuel bladders we'd brought aboard that morning, then got underway with Dustin piloting us  through the extremely busy Singapore straits before noon, setting a course around the North side of the island of Borneo.

South China Sea sunsets, and sunrises, can be spectacular. We took a lot of pictures of them, but they never really capture their grandeur. Here's one with my watch-mate and now good friend, Jim Persinger, in the foreground. Throughout the trip, we piloted Mandy from the flybridge although there is another helm station belowdecks.

 

The transit through the South China Sea was relatively uneventful. Shipping traffic in this area is quite heavy and piracy/hijacking is always a concern. Accordingly, we kept a sharp lookout with two persons on the flybridge throughout. While we were using the electronic chartplotter for routine navigagtion, we had a full set of up to date paper charts on which we tracked our current position.

Late the evening of the 9th, about 530 nm later, we anchored offshore at Miri in the Malaysian part of Borneo. At daybreak, when we could see well enough, we moved into the very nice Miri Marina adjacent to the "old" river entrance customs house. The first person we saw in the marina was, unexpectedly, an acquaintance of Jim Persinger, who quickly gave us the "lay of the land". It is, indeed, a small world.

  

While Dustin and Mark attended to the entry formalities, I sallied into town for some shopping. Both were completed by noon and we moved Mandy to the fuel dock upstream of the "new" river entrance. As you can see from the picture below, waterfront aesthetics in Miri are pretty consistent with the rest of SE Asia. (The rest of the town was pretty modern, however. The supermarket I found, in the basement of the Imperial Hotel, was actually nicer and better stocked than those in Singapore).

After fueling, we again got underway mid-aftenoon for our next refueling stop at Puerto Princesa in the Philippines. We anchored next to this live-aboard dive boat.

As further evidence of the diminshing size of our world, Jim knew the skipper and the boat was a sister vessel to the one on which Dustin is normally Captain in Kona. The crew helped Dustin get through the customs and immigration formalities, (a certain amount of "mordida" was needed to get them completed in a single day without onboard inspection). When that was accomplished, we were allowed to tie up to the commercial dock. I went ashore for a few provisions while the rest of the crew refueled from a truck that came to the dock. The dive boat Captain invited us for a lovely dinner aboard before we left there that evening. 

The next leg of the trip, between Puerto Princesa and Surigao was the shortest of the voyage. We arrived early in the daylight hours of the 16th and were permitted to tie up to the commercial dock for the day. Formalities were quick and straightforward, but it took several hours to organize fueling from a flatbed truck with two "totes" containing the required 1400 liters of diesel. This gave me some time ashore in this typical Philippine waterfront town.

After stocking up on "mystery meat" on a stick and some other provisions we were off, while there was still light enough for the transit through the straits into the Philippine Sea and beyond for our last and longest leg of the voyage.

Three and a half days later, on the 20th of May, we passed through the West Pass across the Palau reef. This picture shows the remains of a boat that missed the pass.

 What a gorgeous place! The pictures fail to capture the splendid luminescence of the water over the reef in contrast to the dark clear blue of the deeper water.

Jim was in his home waters, so he piloted us through the reef.

At about 1pm, we brought Mandy to her new and permanent home at Neco Marine's dock in Koror, Palau on the 20th of May. We were met by the owners, Shallum and Mandy Etpison, as well as several of their crew at Neco Marine, only one of their extensive business interests on the island. Even though we'd only had Mandy for a couple of weeks, we turned her over feeling as if we were parting with an old friend.

The Etpisons proved to be extraordinarily gracious hosts for the day and a half of leisure that we had available before our flights home. They put us up in a delightful apartment above the Neco offices adjacent to the marina, with all our meals and drinks provided by the Drop Off Bar & Grill next door. We were all too tired to do much that afternoon, but the next day Shallum made arrangements for a private tour of the Rock Islands on one of his boats. I cannot tell you how much we enjoyed seeing this beautiful place. It was already on my planned itinerary for next year. Now I can't wait to get there and show it to my friends and family. To my cruising friends, I recommend Palau heartily as a beautiful destination. You will find Neco Marine has friendly and helpful people, a very nice marina and a fuel dock. (680)-488-1294/2206.

There are, literally, hundreds of islands in the archipelago that makes up Palau. Not only is it a beautiful place, but it has an extraordinarily rich history. One of the great battles of WWII was fought on one of the islands, Pelelliu. My poor photography doesn't begin to do justice to what we saw while we were there. Fortunately, owing to the extraordinary talents and efforts of Mandy Etpison, I have three wonderful books, all authored and autographed by her, that richly document the history of the islands and its natural beauty in a manner that I couldn't even imagine, much less attempt. I will always treasure the books, the extraordinary commitment of time and effort they represent. They are a most gracious gift, indeed!

 

After a wonderful crew dinner at the beautiful Palau Pacific Resort hosted by Shallum Etpison and his two sons, we reluctantly left this beautiful place in the very wee hours of the 22nd of May. Our flight home made stops in Guam and Honolulu. While we spent almost 24 hours in transit, the International Date Line played its normal tricks. We got to Honolulu before we left Guam and I arrived at LAX only 3 hours after I left Palau.

The entire transit of approximately 1,600 nm through the South China into the Sulu sea and then into the Philppine sea and the open Pacific to Palau was marked only by a few thundershowers and occasional periods of 15-20 kt winds and 2-3 ft seas. In all, weather and sea conditions were as near perfect throughout the voyage as we could have asked for.

This Grand Banks is a lovely and gracious boat for coastal cruising. There was never a time during the voyage that we had any reason to question its seaworthiness. Mandy's twin engines are capable of pushing her along at more than 20 kts, however to achieve the necessary 500 nm plus range we needed for this voyage, we had to run at less than 1000 rpm with through the water speeds of approximately 6.5 kts for nearly all of the voyage.

However, Grand Banks are clearly not designed with comfort in mind during long transits in the open ocean. Even these light winds and seas often caused us to hang on tight to keep from being thrown about when the seas were abeam, (most of the trip). The master stateroom, to which I was assigned, is forward, and during much of the trip it was untenable due to pitching and loud noises as the seas pounded the hull. I did, indeed, miss my stout little Nordhavn with it's large fuel tanks, paravane roll stabilizers and its heavier-built and much quieter hull. I can't wait to take her to Palau next year!

April 14, 2010 Panama back to La Paz

This posting reflects a change in the cruising pattern for Arcadia I. For the first time since we've owned her, we're heading consistently North!

After we bought Arcadia I last June, we cruised around SE Alaska for the summer. We truly loved it, and knew that one season there wouldn't be enough for us. We seriously considered leaving Arcadia I there for the winter, so we could just pick up where we left off. However, I'm getting old enough to know that there is only so much time left for me to enjoy these adventures. I simply couldn't bear the thought of leaving the boat idle for 9 whole months.

We would have liked to bring Arcadia I home for a while, to clean up the "list" while speaking English and close to home, family and tools. However, due to the voracious appetite for taxes exhibited by our home state, we can't do that until we've owned the boat for at least a full year. That means, we'll have to haul her out at least once more before we can bring her home. She's currently back in Marina CostaBaja in La Paz and will remain there until we put her on the Dockwise transporter for shipment to Nanaimo, British Columbia. We could, of course, have taken her on up on her own bottom without any particular concern for safety, but . . . that's a 2,000 nm predictably miserable up-weather trip that I'm happy to skip. I'm sure my friends are too.

Seasoned voyagers have often told me that it takes at least a year to really learn your boat. We're about 10 months into this and I've learned the wisdom of that homily. A boat like Arcadia I has a lot of systems packed into a very small volume. I'm still pretty quick to learn and have more experience with similar systems than most people that buy complex boats. Nonetheless, after almost 10 months, I'll be the first to admit that there are still many things to learn about this boat and the list of "mysteries" and things to repair, replace or simply inspect is still growing.

Accordingly, we started an extended sea trial of learning experiences by embarking on a series of long legs, often non-stop for several hundred miles, that ended in Panama as discussed in my last posting. Along the way, I've reinforced my already healthy respect for the sea, improved my seamanship skills and developed enormous confidence in the reliability and seaworthiness of our little ship Arcadia I. 
 
My best friend, business partner and wife, Phyllis, has patiently indulged me in this "victory lap" that marks the start of my retirement from the business we started together over 20 years ago. Note that I said "my" retirement. Phyllis is still actively managing important aspects of that business with our partners and keeping the home fires burning while I gallivant around on the boat she loves as much as I do. 
 
I'll also be eternally grateful to the many family members and old friends that have shared their love of adventure to join me. You see their pictures in the blog postings where I show those memorable events and beautful sights that are all the more precious for having someone you care about to shared them with. What you don't see is much that reflects the long hours of lost sleep or boredom that represents the vast majority of time spent on the long transits between destinations. In this blog, you will see, once again, two people to whom I owe a special debt of gratitude, Mike O'leary and Rudy Prendiz. Each of them has made three of those long trips with me. On some of the longer legs, each was my only shipmate.
 
As I left off with the last posting, Phyllis and I were together in the Perlas islands in Panama Bay. We stayed there another three days.

Right after I wrote that posting, I had one of those "lessons in humility" that we all get sometimes. I ran the boat aground on a submerged rock! It could easily have been much worse, but no significant damage was done, (Thank you God and PAE). Arcadia I set down squarely on her massive keel, then careened over twice as waves passed under us. She then simply fell off the rock and I was able to back away. When I dived to inspect her below the waterline, there was nothing to show that the incident even happened except for some deep gouges in the first couple of layers of fiberglass on the very bottom of the keel. They weren't serious enough to require repair before the next planned haulout in Puget Sound in May. I wish I could tell you that it was an uncharted rock that I hit, but it wasn't. Old sailors say that there are two kinds of skippers, those that have run aground and those that someday will. While I've joined the ranks of those that have, it's not something I'm very proud of. I will do all I can to keep from hearing the sickening sound of keel against rock ever again.
 
On Friday, we pulled into a very protected little anchorage and were promptly met by a man and two young women that wanted to take us in to see their village nearby. We hopped in, and took the ride. Not much of a town, but the folks were friendly.

On Saturday. the 12th of March, we returned to anchor just outside Flamenco Yacht Club's breakwater in Panama Bay. No slips inside were available. Phyllis caught her flight home that evening.
 
Sunday, I slept in a bit then set out to see if I could get the FloScan fuel meter working for the first time since we've had the boat. I discovered that the forward fuel meter was physically bypasses so fuel didn't even flow through it. Then, I found out why. There is a pulsation dampener that had rusted through which, if still in the circuit, would have disabled the main engine completely. Apparently one of the two previous owner had bypassed the fuel meter and pulsation dampener and simply left it that way. I removed and discarded the pulsation dampener and put the fuel meter back in the circuit. Voila! I have an operable fuel meter. On the following leg, to Huatulco, I determined that the meter calibration was off substantially. However, by applying a correction factor determined on that leg to the readings between there and La Paz, that I was able to predict fuel consumption very closely using an Excel spreadsheet. In fact, the fuel it took to refill in La Paz was within 20 gallons of the Excel prediction. I'd like to get the calibration right, of course, but I feel that I've made a major stride toward intelligent fuel management with what I now have. One more mystery resolved!
  
Monday and Tuesday, I did minor maintenance, including changing the oil in the generator and main engine. In this climate, the three air conditioner units on board do a nice job, but it takes all of them. In this condition, anchored without shore power, I had a rare opportunity to check how much fuel the generator uses when fully loaded all day. (8 gallons per day, both days).
 
Wednesday, I topped off the fuel tanks. I made the mistake of filling the forward tanks first. The tank vents must have low spots in them, because the after tanks simply wouldn't fill without periodically "burping". By using all my fuel absorbing material, I was able to partially fill the after tanks, but very slowly. Total fuel on board is about 830 gallons. That probably means we'll have to refuel at Huatulco, not something I'd recommend to anyone that cares about their boat.
 
Thursday, March 18th, I met Mike O'leary at the airport and we set out to complete the exit formalities. We'd learned a bit about the paper dance when we entered the country, so without too many mis-steps, we had our Zarpe and our passports stamped by 12:30. We were underway by 13:30. The Southbound trip from Balboa to Punta Mala was uncomfortable but "downhill", so not as bad as when we came. 

Friday, we cleared Punta Mala in the wee hours and the seas calmed considerable as we expected. By 16:00 we were approaching Isla Rancherita and caught a nice dorado. We decided to treat ourselves to a quiet dinner at anchor in a beautiful little bay on a tropical island. Weather Bob had encouraged us to make all deliberate haste to catch a series of weather windows, so we only stayed a couple of hours and were underway again by 18:30, travelling in flat seas with a beautiful sunset.

 

Saturday, at midnight we were just south of Islas Ladrones. By 06:30, we were in Costa Rican waters. We would have liked to stop in Costa Rica, but the time to clear in and out of the country would mean we'd miss the windows at the Tehuantepec wind slot and across the Gulf of California that Weather Bob was predicting, so we pressed on.
 
We started Sunday just off Jaco, Costa Rica. During the day, we checked with Weather Bob and he said we should expect to get to the Papagallo just as the winds started to pick up but before it got very serious and, if we hurried, we could catch a good window for the much more serious Tehuantepec slot. We set the paravanes in the water and pressed on. By midnight, we were in Nicaraguan waters. 
 
Monday, things materialized exactly as Weather Bob predicted. (We've come to expect that, by the way. His forecasts have been nearly perfect since we started calling him. If you want a professional forecast for a reasonable cost, you should call him at Ocean Marine Navigation, 302-284-3268) We had a little wind, but a generally good ride across the Papagallo. We passed the Golfo Fonseca at midday and entered El Salvador waters.
 
Tuesday, we entered Guatemalan waters mid-morning. After Weather Bob confirmed his forecast, we decided to cut across the gulf of Tehuantepec on a direct course to Huatulco, saving more than 50 miles and setting us up for a direct run from Cabo Corrientes to the south end of Baja California.
 
Wednesday, the 24th of March, we crossed into Mexican waters. There was a significant swell because the Tehuantepec had been experiencing full gale winds. However by the time we got into the wind slot off Salina Cruz, there was no wind and the swell was smoothly shaped with a long enough period to make a very pleasant ride. About noon, Mike O'leary caught and brought a nice marlin alongside. We released that one and within a couple of hours he did it again, this time it was even larger than the first. Mike grew up in Ireland as a crab and crayfish, (think lobster), fisherman. However, he'd never really done any fishing with a rod and reel. That notwithstanding, I don't know many other fisherman that have brought two striped marlin to boat in as many hours. I was the high point of the trip.

Thursday, the 25th of March, we were tied up in Marina Chahue by 09:00. The chartplotter odometer indicates that we've travelled 1004 nm since we left Panama. Rudy Prendiz and Mike's son Cian were on the float waiting for us. The marina folks, on hearing that we were just there to make a crew change, put in a call to the Mexican authorities to expedite the entry formalities. The authorities came through for us. Mike caught a flight home at noon and we were fully cleared into Mexico by 2 pm. We promptly moved over to the Santa Cruz fuel dock to take on fuel.

This is a lousy fuel dock. Avoid it if you can! There is no float. It's located in a narrow channel with literally dozens of boats and PWCs zooming by without consideration of their wake. The rough pilings are narrow and almost impossible to get a fender placed effectively against. The crew is totally indifferent, destroying one of our dock lines with their macrame knots and rusted-through cleats . We took on 505 gallons of fuel, pretty well filling the tanks, and headed out to sea.

The weather was pretty nice on Friday, although the seas were, as Mike O'leary would have said, lively. Cian fell prey to mal de mer from the outset. By Saturday, as we passed by Acapulco heading for Punta Corrientes, the seas got a good deal lumpier, as expected. We'd been staying in touch with Weather Bob. He was watching a rare good window develop that would enable us to set a direct course from Punta Corrientes to La Paz, but that meant we had to stick with these conditions. By Sunday, the seas were continuing to build. Weather Bob advised us to pull in to Manzanillo for a few hours, to let the winds abate a bit.

Mid-day Sunday, the 28th, we anchored in Manzanillo Bay. Cian's seasickness hadn't improved and we expected at least another 24 hours of the same before there was any prospect that the seas would lay down. Even then, the bluewater trip from Cabo Corrientes to the lee of Baja California can never be counted on to be smooth. Accordingly, we decided that Cian should fly home from Manzanillo, leaving the rest of the trip to Rudy and me who, so far, are unafflicted.

After a nice shore lunch, we left Cian at a hotel to await his morning flight.

 Rudy and I went back to the boat to find that the generator had broken the vee belt that drives the water pumps. The genset is in a "hush box" in the after starboard corner of the engine room. This belt was in a near to a totally inaccessible position as I could imagine. It took a hard three hours to get the hush box opened, remove a totally unnecessary belt guard and to teach my hands and elbows how to tension that belt. Fortunately, we had a spare belt aboard. After completing that task, we took a nap, leaving Manzanillo Bay at 4 am on Monday the 29th of March.

We passed Cabo Corrientes about 20 miles offshore at about 8 pm that evening and set a direct course for the East Cape of Baja California. Almost immediately, the winds abated. The swell was still with us, but it began to assume a relatively benign long frequency smooth shape that gave us a very pleasant ride. Weather Bob predicted relatively light winds for two days, but warning that we'd want to get into the lee of Baja as quickly as possible, since the West wind was expected to pick up by Wednesday morning. That is exactly the way it happened.

Wednesday afternoon, the 31st of March, we realized that we'd have to either stop somewhere or come into La Paz in the middle of the night. We decided to anchor in El Muerte and have a shore dinner. We pulled anchor at about midnight and got on our way again.

Thursday morning, the 1st of April, we tied up to the fuel dock at Marina CostaBaja. We took on 225 gallons of fuel, or 4.11 nm/gal for 925 miles since Huatulco. We then moved over to our slip. We did laundry and minor maintenance the rest of that day and got the accumulated salt crystals washed off the boat.

Friday, we changed the oil in the main and generator, "pickled" the watermaker, and did a general cleanup of the boat, since we expect to leave her here for at least a month before we load her onto the Dockwise transport ship.

Saturday, April 3, Rudy and I flew home.

Some salient facts: We've travelled 6,037 miles since we left Bellingham last September and about 10,000 since we acquired Arcadia I. The main engine now has 7,406 hours and the generator has 4,727. I've made an effort to use the wing engine for trolling or just battery charging since I've had the boat. Even so, it has only accumulated 135 hours since it was new.

March 15, 2010 Barilles to Panama

After almost 10 months, this cruising thing is beginning to be what I always thought it could be. Phyl and I are aboard Arcadia I, at anchor in a beautiful protected cove off a tropical island in the las Perlas islands off Panama. We’ve been simply enjoying one another’s company for the past few days. Life is good!

In my last update, Phyl and I were about to leave Arcadia I at Marina Barilles in El Salvador. We did leave together on the 10th of February. When we got home, I was pleasantly surprised to find that my family had taken care of things beautifully in my absence. I had a only a moderate to do list facing me after being gone for yet another month on my adventures. Hallelujah! I’m beginning to enjoy the feeling of being loved and missed, but not desperately needed, while I go off on my own “victory lap”.

On Sunday evening, the 21st of February, I met with Rudy Prendiz and Keith Bridges, (Both are LAFD crash truck drivers at LAX and long range tuna boat aficionados. They proved to be good company each, and a great crew for the trip.), We left LAX on the American Airlines “Red Eye” to San Salvador, arriving at 0645 on Monday. We were met by Francisco, the Marina Barilles driver that has been so helpful throughout the time we’ve been moored there. We went to the boat immediately and found all in good order. Arthur, another cruiser staying in the marina, came over and charged the batteries every few days while we were gone, (and caught up on his computer work in air conditioned comfort not available on his boat). That afternoon, we fueled up, (240 gallons of fuel for the 340 miles since Huatulco, with the generator running most of the time). We could have easily gotten to Panama without fueling, but I like to keep Arcadia I’s black iron fuel tanks nearly full to prevent corrosion in them.

On Tuesday the 23rd, we cleared our accounts with the marina, obtained our Zarpe and got our passports stamped. We then loaded the dinghy aboard and followed the “pilot” panga back to sea. We were under way by 1030 and in the open sea before noon. The seas were lively enough to set the paravanes.

Wednesday we awoke to mill pond conditions off the Gulf of Fonseca, shared by El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua. We brought the paravanes in and stowed them on the boat deck to clear the cockpit for fishing. We had two dorado aboard by noon. Keith made a great meal with one of them.

When I tried to start the water maker, it was clear that we’d developed a fine crop of marine growth in the filters while we were in the Barilles estuary. I had neglected to disinfect and pickle the system when I got there. That hadn’t proved a problem for short stays in less redolent waters in the past, but it caught up with me this time. I wasn’t willing to tackle replacing the filters and re-priming the system while underway in tropical waters, (the engine room is ~130ºF). However, we had 250 gallons of freshwater aboard. By only being a little water-thrifty, we got along fine.

Thursday, the 25th, we continued along he coast of Nicaragua. Weather Bob had given us a good forecast, so we set a course that passed well offshore through the dreaded Papagallo slot off Lake Nicaragua. As with the Tehuantepec, the transit through this area was a non-event in calm seas. This was, again, in marked contrast to the miserable time my brother, Paul, and I had when we passed through here several years ago on the Princess J. We caught and released a sailfish off Cabo Blanco. Later that afternoon, we hooked up to a nice marlin and got him close enough to the boat to get a good look at him before we lost him. About 1730, off Quepos, we brought in a nice Wahoo that Keith and Rudy barbecued for an outstanding meal.

On Friday, the 26th, we entered Panama at about 1100. The afternoon was marked by lightning and thunder as we passed through several tropical thunderstorms. At 1700, we anchored in a protected bay off Isla Parida. Keith and I got out the hookah rig and dove the hull in these clear waters. The inspection revealed little fouling but the sacrificial zinc anodes are all about gone.

On Saturday morning, after the engine room had cooled down, we replaced the watermaker filters, reprimed the system and started filling the freshwater tanks again. We were underway again before noon. The rest of the day was in beautiful and calm conditions. We passed literally dozens of beautiful islands that I can’t wait to explore on the way back.

Sunday, the 28th, (my 69th birthday), started out with calm seas and a light north wind. We caught two nice yellowfin tuna off Punta Morro del Puercos, along what is often called the Tuna Coast of Panama. About noon, we rounded the aptly named Punta Mala, (translates to “Bad Point”), and the North wind started picking up immediately. By midnight we were heading into a full gale.

Monday, the 1st of March, the gale continued. The seas, while not very high, were right on our bow at short frequency, making for a very uncomfortable ride until about 0400 when we got into the lee of Islas Bona and Tobago. The seas abated, but the wind did not, for the remainder of our trip into Panama City/Balboa. At 0700 I contacted Flamenco Signal Station, sort of a control tower for the Canal Zone on the Pacific side, and was directed to an anchorage, (Playita), behind a breakwater to the Northwest of Flamenco Island. We were at anchor there by 0830. By about 1030, we had the dinghy launched and headed ashore to complete our entry formalities into Panama. In contrast to our experience in El Salvador, entry into Panama is sort of a game of blind man’s bluff. Our taxi driver, (trying to help I’m sure), made it more complicated than it had to be. I think it all could have been done at the nearby Flamenco Marina, but we trooped around town instead. We got our passports stamped in a hole in the wall immigration office at the Balboa Yacht Club, we got the Port Captain to sign us in at the Container Port, but it was then too late in the day to get our cruising permit for the boat, which would enable us to get our visa to allow us to stay more than 2 days.

On Tuesday, we completed the formalities and obtained our cruising permit and visas. We then went to the Miraflores locks visitor center to watch several “Panamax vessels” (largest size that can go through the locks), as they transited southbound through the locks into the Pacific. It is truly an impressively choreographed ballet. There is a very nice museum at the visitor’s center in which we spent several enjoyable hours, before we headed back to the boat. On the way, we stopped at a large, American-style supermarket to re-provision the boat.

On Wednesday, Rudy and Keith caught their flight back to LAX and I went off to make arrangements to get hauled out for inspection, pressure washing below the water line and to replace the sacrificial zinc anodes. I moved the boat to a different anchorage location, just outside Flamenco Marina, so I could be more persistent about obtaining a slip for the time Phyllis is going to be here.

Thursday, I made my daily call on Flamenco Marina. No slip available, but they’re beginning to greet me like a customer. The north wind was pretty fierce in the afternoon, so I moved the boat closer to Panama City, where he wind waves were smaller, (most of the bay is less than 50 ft deep, so you can pretty well anchor wherever you like outside the areas reserved for big ships).

Friday, Phyllis is en route from California. I made my “nuisance call” at the marina. This time, they relented and gave me a slip, (that had always been open, as it turns out), that I can use until Monday when we’ll haul Arcadia I onto “the hard”. I took the dinghy back out to Arcadia I and moved her to the slip, getting tied up just in time to leave for the airport to meet Phyl.

Saturday, Phyllis and I spent the day sightseeing. We went back to the Miraflores visitor center. This time, I got to watch several yachts go through. I’ve been hoping to get a ride through with someone that needs a free line handler, but watching it was almost as good.

On Sunday, March 7th, Phyl and I spent the day on the boat and around the marina, just enjoying being together.

On Monday, March 8th, we were ready to go on the Travel Lift by the appointed hour of 0830. They slid another boat in ahead of us, so we didn’t actually get into the slings until 1000. By the time we were actually set down on blocks, (still in the slings), it was 1100. We set to work, and had the zincs all replaced within 45 minutes. The yard had charged me to rent their pressure washer but only had one. It apparently had also been rented by the yacht that came in before us. I pleaded with the captain of that yacht to let us have it for an hour, since we only had that long before the tide would drop below that which would allow us to re-launch that day. He was remarkably uncooperative, so I had to make a scene with the boatyard people. We finally got the pressure washer with only 30 minutes time to use it. However, the anti fouling paint I put on in Bellingham has been remarkably effective, so we really only had to spend much time washing slime off the keel cooler, hull fittings and the prop to get a pretty clean bottom. We were back in the water, (with only 6” of water under the keel), and out of the slings by noon. We set a course immediately for the las Perlas islands, reaching a nice anchorage spot South of Isla Pacheca before dark.

Tuesday morning, we moved to South of Isla Contadora, where we found a good cell phone signal. We stayed there until after noon, catching up on phone calls. We then moved to a beautiful spot, (through what turned out to be some pretty treacherous shoals, that we got through without making contact with), South of Isla Casayeta.

On Wednesday, the 10th of March, we moved again to another even more beautiful spot just South of Isla Cana. We tried our luck at bottom fishing but had no success. About dinner time a couple came by in a panga, fishing within 100” of us they caught fish. Swallowing our pride, we paid them $5.00 and two beers for two nice pargo. Oh, well. They seemed pleased with the transaction. Maybe we’re supposed to spread the wealth.

Thursday, we’re still at the Isla Cana anchorage. There’s a nice cool breeze here and it’s calm. We may stay right here until it’s time to start back to Panama City for Phyl’s flight home on Saturday.

February 8, 2010 Huatulco to Barilles

In my last update, Arcadia I was in Marina Chahue at Huatulco, Mexico. Danny Long had already headed home to Texas and my brother, Paul, and I were preparing to fly back to California for the Christmas Holiday.

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.

I have no idea how many dolphins and sea turtles we saw on this trip. Certainly hundreds, maybe even thousands. Nonetheless, I don’t think we’ll ever get tired of their company.

Because we had to time our arrival during the morning hours, we needed to average only 5.5 knots speed over the ground. When we had opposing currents, we ran the engine up to as much as 1700 rpm. When the currents or wind was in our favor, we sometimes ran as slow as 1100 rpm and still made, or exceeded, our target speed. The main engine was just sipping fuel. We didn’t have the paravanes in the water after the first night. Fuel consumption would have been very low, except that, without any appreciable wind, we needed to run the generator or it was too hot below to sleep comfortably.

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.

The rest of Tuesday, we just got acquainted with the club facilities, and re-acquainted with folks that we’d met in Huatulco that had arrived before us. On Wednesday, we did the normal end of trip maintenance and caught up on email at the club house. On Thursday, we tagged along with the two couples sailing on the Mason 43, Sapphire, as they went to San Salvador to make arrangements for a trip they planned to Antigua in Guatemala.

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.

Phyl and I are booked to leave here, together, on a flight Wednesday morning, the 10th of February. I’m booked to return on the 20th. While I’m home, I’ll try to round up some friends that want to make the trip on down to Panama with me. Life is good!

December 20, 2009 La Paz to Huatulco

Danny Long, my brother Paul and I brought the boat down from La Paz over the past 10 days, in generally excellent weather and sea conditions. To continue the chronology where I left off:

We had a company Christmas party on Friday, December 5th, and a Partner’s meeting on Monday, the 7th. The next day Danny Long and I flew to La Paz. We were met at the airport by “Zeke the Boat Guy”, who had been working on Arcadia I in our absence. He kindly stopped at a supply store on the way to the marina, where we picked up new batteries for the house bank. We installed them, inspected the work he’d done and settled accounts with Zeke. His crew has stripped, sanded and varnished the exterior woodwork, washed and waxed the topsides and built a fish cleaning station for the cockpit. Before he left, Zeke took us to the “Say-Say-Say”, (CCC Supermercado), where we picked up some provisions for the trip.

On December 9th, we got up early, replaced one of the fuel filters and stowed the boat for sea. We cleared out of Marina Costa Baja by 10am and headed toward Mazatlan, where my brother, Paul, is to join us on the afternoon of the 11th. As we entered the channel, we noticed one of the Dockwise “float on-float off” transports that we plan to use to ship the boat on to Nanaimo in May. We circled it to get a better look before heading off across the Sea of Cortez.

We had plenty of time to get there, so we throttled back to 5 knots and took the long way around Isla Cerralvo, which should take us to Mazatlan with minimal shipping traffic to contend with. The 9th and 10th of December were devoted to the transit across the Sea of Cortez in nearly ideal conditions. We left the paravanes out of the water until late the 10th, when the wind started kicking up a bit, giving us some 3 foot seas and 9-10 kt wind on the port beam. Along the way we enjoyed numerous encounters with playful dolphin, as is common in these waters.

On the 11th, we were coming in to Marina Mazatlan just at daybreak. As soon as we could see to navigate, we entered the marina and tied up. Brother Paul, arrived that afternoon as planned. We’d already paid for a day in the marina so we stayed around for a shore dinner and went to bed early.

On the 12th, we left Marina Mazatlan in the dark, at 3:45 am, and got underway for Isla Isabella. Along the way Danny and Paul caught a nice dorado and several bonito.

We arrived at Isla Isabella before dark, after a beautiful sunset and anchored for dinner and some sleep.

On Sunday, the 13th of December, we pulled anchor at 5:45 am and set course for San Blas. We set our anchor there in Mantanchen Bay before noon. We rigged the dinghy down and ran up on the beach for a shore lunch, then restowed the dinghy and got underway again by 6 pm.

On the 14th, we rounded Cabo Corrientes at about 6 am. This is has been described as Mexico’s equivalent to Point Conception since it’s a place where two prevalent currents and weather patterns meet, often creating high winds and rough seas. We were glad we had the paravanes out, but the condition were actually pretty mild. After we got around, the seas calmed markedly, however, and we’ve enjoyed virtually mill pond conditions for the rest of the trip. We pulled into Chamela Bay, thinking we’d go ashore for dinner. However, at 7 pm, we couldn’t find a single palapa restaurant open, so we pulled anchor and went on our way.

The 15th , we motored along under ideal conditions for the whole day. On the afternoon of the 16th, we pulled in to Zihuatenejo, checked in with the Port Captain and tried, unsuccessfully, to buy fishing licenses for Paul and Danny. After a nice lunch, we picked up some ice for the cooler and got underway again. Late that night we passed by Acapulco without stopping.

We continued our transit through the 17th, without stopping again, until we got to Bahia Chahue in Huatulco. We found the reality of the Santa Cruz/Chahue bays much different than or cruising guide chart showed. After creeping in around some pretty impressive and intimidating shoals, however, we found the channel lights leading to Marina Chahue. We were tied up in the marina by 9:45 pm on the 18th.

On the 19th and 20th, we’ve spent the days cleaning up the boat and exploring the nice little town of Cruzecita which is a short taxi ride away. We’ll leave Arcadia I here for the holidays, with all three of us flying home tomorrow afternoon, (21st).

Merry Christmas to All!!