Speedwell of Hong Kong

Archive for the ‘Cruising’ Category

Off to the San Blas Archipelago

Friday, August 11th, 2017

I moved back to Puerto Lindo to fill up with diesel before starting my cruise in San Blas. After an abortive attempt at anchoring close to the marina I returned to my spot at the head of the bay near the tiny village of Garrote. It was an easy row to the good dinghy dock at Casa X and much less crowded. Unfortunately, also open to the swell rolling in from the NE. Apart from the diesel, I realized I also needed to stock up with more essential provisions and made two bus trips through to the big supermarket in Sabanitas. An hour each way on the colourful, jam-packed bus, severely limited by how much I can carry in my backpack and two big shopping bags. Not just by the weight, but also the difficulty of handling the bulky bags in the bus with standing room only. I still enjoyed the bus rides, especially when I was able to get a seat. The people were warm and caring and the countryside is so beautifully lush and green and uncontrolled.

Once I’d stocked up all I had to do was wait for a day with a possibility of some westerly wind. At last there was a favourable forecast before my provisions ran out again and I headed hopefully out of the bay under power until I was clear of other boats, rocks and reefy bits. Then I was able to sail almost all the way. I left in the afternoon planning to sail through the night and arrive in the morning with good light to approach my first anchorage. As luck would have it the current hustled us along and we were at the entrance to the San Blas channel at about 3 am in the pitch dark. I hove-to, waiting for sunrise, and was able to have a short nap.

The beach at Chichime

I decided to make Chichime my first stop as the entry was straightforward and close by. I had been warned that it could get crowded as it is popular with the backpacker charter boats. But it seemed that I had arrived at an off-peak time and there were only three or four other boats and plenty of room in the exquisite bay.

Looking out over the reef

What a pleasure to anchor in crystal clear water, well protected from the swell by surrounding reefs which didn’t block the cooling breeze. No mosquitoes or no-seeums. Things were looking good.

My mola

After a few hours sleep I was woken by someone calling and I met my first ‘Master Mola Maker’ who had paddled quietly up in his dugout canoe or ulu. He displayed a magnificent collection of his work. All extremely finely hand stitched in intricate designs. My rather strict budget put most of it way out of my league but he had some more modest samples and I eventually settled for a cushion – sized piece that I am delighted with.

Starfish on my doorstep

My ‘overnight’ stop expanded to 3 idyllic days, reveling in the great snorkeling and beautiful surroundings. Of course, this is the rainy season and thunderstorms were plentiful so no shortage of water and I caught up with the laundry. More and more boats were arriving and I felt it was time to be moving on.

My next stop was just 3 miles further on at Banedup. Boats were clustered around the main island where there were some beach bars. It looked a bit crowded but there was another really good place to anchor where I could have more swinging room. This time I left the dinghy on deck as I was happy just to swim ashore. From the cockpit I could see colourful starfish on the sandy bottom.

On day two a fierce squall blasted the anchorage causing mayhem with the boats crowded near the island. Some re-anchored and a few left after things had calmed down again. Thankfully these squalls don’t last too long.

Palm Island seen from Banedup

As soon as the wind turned west again a day or two later, I headed off to the Holandes Cays about 11 miles away. Again I was lucky with the weather and had a lovely sail, the junk rig doing what it does best on a downwind run, sometimes cheating a bit and seeing how much I could get away with sailing by the lee. The Navik doesn’t approve of this tactic and it needs hand-steering.

I had carefully entered some waypoints in my Garmin Etrex which would get me safely into the Swimming Pool anchorage. The light was good and it was easy to see the reefs and shallows.

BBQ Island seen from my anchorage

I found myself in the sort of place that epitomizes everyone’s dream of tropical cruising. There were very few other boats and not a mooring ball in sight. I got the awning rigged over the cockpit for some shade and settled in. The next two weeks were spent just enjoying it all. There was no need for the dinghy and I used my inflatable kayak to paddle out to the reefs for hours of snorkeling or just exploring.

There were regular visits by the Kuna Indians in their ulus, sometimes selling lobster or fish, Other times just to chat and show their astonishment at the fact that I was sailing single-handed. A woman! One morning a group of lady Kunas came over and insisted on giving me a gift of limes and plantains.

But soon enough my meager supplies started to get low and I decided to make a shopping trip to Nargana at Rio Diablo where I should be able to do some basic shopping. I was all ready to leave early one morning and it was time to start the engine to see me safely out of the anchorage. Oh dear, instead of the normal noisy startup, just a click. OK, I’d had this before and it was just a loose connection, so I switched off and checked things out. Everything seemed fine. Try again. Nothing. The starter motor had been replaced not too long ago when I was in North Carolina, surely it couldn’t already have problems. Before doing anything drastic I went over to one of the other boats who were long – term residents, to seek advice. After I’d described the problem it was suggested that it could just be the solenoid sticking and all it might need was a tap to free it. Jim came over and showed me what to do and problem solved. What a relief, and a new skill acquired.

By now it was getting a bit late to leave so I put it off till the next day and then had a reasonably good sail to Rio Diablo, only having to motor for the last few miles when the wind died completely. The anchorage is very well protected and I went ashore to find the shops. No big supermarkets here but a scattering of small ‘tiendas’ with just the most basic of wares. No chance of replenishing my supply of Earl Grey. I did manage to find some flour so I’ll be able to carry on making bread. No butter though.

Tech and tradition

The little village is made up of a fairly dense collection of small reed huts with thatched or corrugated iron roofs. Sandy paths between. A shady footbridge connects the two islands and is a pleasantly cool place to linger and watch the world go by. Although this is one of the more ‘advanced’ villages, many of the women wear the traditional molas and their legs are decorated from knee to ankle with strings of fine beads wound round and round forming patterns.

Rio Diablo

On day two I went for a long row up the river. The entrance is very shallow and littered with big logs that have drifted down but once inside it was deeper and quite magical. I spotted a heron which was new to me and now and then a kingfisher flew purposefully by. I looked in vain for crocodiles. An enormous blue morpho butterfly flapped by, contrasting brilliantly against the dark green foliage. I passed two small graveyards tucked in behind the trees close to the river and a bit further up an ulu would be drawn up to the bank here and there where the coconut trees or bananas were being tended.

Posted in Cruising, San Blas, Western Caribbean | 1 Comment »

Portobelo

Wednesday, July 5th, 2017

Portobelo, the name conjures up romantic images of its historic past. Staggering amounts of gold and silver were carried here from what have now become Peru and Bolivia and shipped off to Spain. Slaves were traded, famous-name pirates like Francis Drake and Henry Morgan attacked the town and helped themselves to the treasure. In the customs house there was barely room to stack the tons of silver.

Inside the customs house

Small forts tried in vain to protect the bay and its treasure with their cannons. At one time a third of all the gold in the world passed through here.

The view from one of the forts

Now it is a rather shabbily run down little town, but the forts are still there, or what is left of them after being raided for stone to help build the Panama Canal, the customs house is partially restored and is splendid, the same jungle-clad hills look down on the bay. No pirate ships now, but it’s a popular anchorage for cruising boats. Rather a lot of which look as if this could be their final resting place. When a late hurricane passed nearby in November last year many of the boats dragged their anchors and some still remain stuck in the mud near the mangroves.

The entrance to the bay

I arrived after a short motor-sail from Puerto Lindo, the current against us all the way. There were only a handful of boats anchored and I easily found a convenient spot. Casa Vela is a small bar on the water’s edge which allows you to use their dinghy dock for $1 per day or a beer at the bar. There are a number of well-stocked small supermarkets which also sell hardware. For more serious shopping a bus leaves every 20 minutes for Colon, stopping in Sabanitas, about an hour along the road, where there is an ATM and a big ‘Rey’ supermarket. This is also the place to catch an express bus through to Panama City.

Panama City skyscrapers and the Pacific Ocean

I had to make use of this bus for a trip through to the city in connection with my banking problem which still drags on. The bus stops at at an enormous ‘Gran Terminal’ where long-distance buses run to hundreds of destinations. Very exciting to think that you can just get on a bus and tour the country. There are also metro-buses for getting about in the city. I had to get to the DHL office in the Bella Vista district and it turned out to be a beautiful part of the city with parks and luxury hotels right near the waterfront. I wandered about a bit and was thrilled to be able to gaze out over the Pacific Ocean.

Church of San Felipe which houses a famous ‘Black Christ’

I left it rather late to head back to Portobelo and got caught in the rush hour traffic. Standing-room only for most of the journey. The last leg of the trip on a chicken bus from Sabanitas to Portobelo took nearly two hours as there had been two bad accidents along the road which stopped the traffic dead. We were entertained en route with loud music videos on the bus’s flat screen display while strings of coloured LED lights flashed under a religious banner. I suppose the bus driver needs all the help he can get.

Posted in Cruising, Panama | 1 Comment »

Puerto Lindo

Monday, June 26th, 2017

I had been told that Puerto Lindo was a good place to clear in to Panama so I decided to head directly there and sort out the legalities before turning back and spending some time in the San Blas islands. I also needed to get connected to the internet again so that I could download the OPEN CPN app for my tablet which would make it possible for me to use the digitized Eric Bauhaus charts for navigating this otherwise poorly charted area.

The distance was about 180nm and would take me at least 2 days. Again I had the benefit of a nearly full moon so the night sailing was a pleasure. There was very little wind and with a 1-2 knot current running against us I was forced to do a lot of motoring. About midnight on the second night out, with only about 30 miles to go, I was woken from one of my brief catnaps by a change in the sound of the engine. Oh dear, it was running very irregularly and sounded about to expire. Which it duly did. Without its help it would take days to get in. It had sounded like fuel starvation. The day tank was still half full so I thought it might be a clogged filter. Luckily I had some spares and with the flat calm sea it didn’t take long to change to a new one. Great relief when I turned the key and the engine came back to life. On we chugged.

Lovely Puerto Lindo

We arrived at the entrance to Puerto Lindo at about 8 in the morning and carefully negotiated the entrance. The little bay lives up to its name and really is a lovely place, making it a popular anchorage with the cruising community. Many boats were clustered close behind Isla Linton and near to the new marina. I chose to anchor where it was less crowded near to the little village of Garrote at the head of the bay.

Clearing in involved a visit to the harbour master at Linton Bay Marina who issued the cruising permit which is valid for a year. Then I took the bus through to Portobelo to get my passport stamped by Immigration. Fortunately for me, the expensive visa fee has recently been dropped. The office is in a romantic, partially restored stone building and was quickly done. Now back to the marina to finalize the cruising permit and I was good for 6 months.

A narrow channel through the mangroves

I wanted to make some inquiries about hauling Speedwell out for a new coat of antifouling and some other routine maintenance. There is a small boatyard in a narrow creek near to Puerto Lindo which is accessible by dinghy via a shallow channel through the mangroves. I decided to row around and have a look. I was just setting out when Mick, who was anchored a short way away on his boat ‘Lady Elizabeth’, came over and offered to take me in his dinghy which has an outboard. Off we went. It turned out to be quite a spectacular route with a dense tangle of mangrove roots close on either side and it would have been a long row. I looked in vain for lurking crocodiles. The boatyard, ‘Panamarina’, looked very good and is reasonably priced. A definite possibility.

Apart from its natural beauty there is not much in Puerto Lindo besides a couple of small tiendas and a helpful ‘cruisers’ waterfront bar/restaurant where you can leave the dinghy. In the early mornings and at sunset the jungle-clad hills surrounding the bay reverberate with the roaring of monkeys. Thousands of egrets roost in the trees and there were many pelicans perching messily on nearby derelict, abandoned boats. There is a school with an open Wi-Fi network.

An amazing bus in Sabanitas

Colourful buses run fairly regularly to Colon, it’s an interesting trip, most of the way running very close to the coast along a narrow winding road. A short way before Portobelo a turn-off leads to Nombre de Dios which was the original port that the Spaniards used to load their haul of silver from Potosí in Bolivia, on to ships bound for Spain. To get to Nombre de Dios the silver had to be transported overland using first llamas then mule trains via Panama City. In 1572 Francis Drake destroyed the town and plundered the treasure. Further along the road, past Portobelo, there is a good supermarket and an ATM at Sabanitas, about an hour away on the bus.

Unfortunately while I was there two neighbouring boats were burgled and I was feeling a little vulnerable. On the next fine day I moved on to Portobelo only about 11nm along the coast.

Posted in Cruising, Panama | No Comments »

Sapzurro

Sunday, June 18th, 2017

The entrance to the bay of Sapzurro is well marked with lit buoys, nevertheless, I was glad to be arriving before sunset. Reefs extend a long way out from each side of the channel, but by keeping in the middle, I had more than 12m all the way to the anchorage. I was surprised to see 6 or 7 boats ranged along the shoreline, each with a line to a tree to hold their bows into the gentle swell that sometimes works its way in. Only two of the other boats were occupied and the rest looked as though they hadn’t been used for some time. There was hardly any swell when I arrived so I dropped the anchor in 7m and enjoyed a sundowner in the cockpit. Steep hills covered in brilliant green jungle surround the bay. Two big Ringed Kingfishers flew back and forth keeping an eye out for their next meal and making their distinctive chattering cry and a squadron of pelicans skimmed low over the water. I was captivated.

The anchorage

That night the wind picked up a little making the anchorage very rolly and uncomfortable, but my luck was in, one of the boats tied to the shore left early in the morning and I wasted no time in moving in to take their place. This made a wonderful difference and now I was happy to stay for a few days.

Tied to a tree

There was a beautiful little palm-fringed beach for landing the dinghy and it was a short walk to the village along an easy path. There is no overland access to the small village and it is centred around a concrete dock where frequent launches with fast outboards bring backpackers and provide a regular service to the neighbouring towns of Capurgana, Obaldia and the lovely beach at La Miel. A few small ‘tiendas’ for basic supplies and plenty of bars and casual restaurants. Some of the hostels provided hammocks to rent overnight. I had used up all my Colombian pesos, but they were happy to accept dollars in small denominations. A supply boat brings fresh fruit and vegetables on Saturday mornings.

The cruel reef

From the village a path leads around the bay and along the coast to Cabo Tiburon and the border with Panama. It was a lovely tree-lined walk along the water’s edge and I was pleased to discover a fuel dock where I would be able to get diesel. Outside the bay the waves were crashing against the shore. It was low tide and the cruel reality of the reef was partly exposed. Crabs scuttled for cover when they became aware of me. At the cape a steep cliff makes it impossible to go any further and there is a Colombian army post with armed guards in camouflage gear. They were friendly and, as usual, were interested to know where I was from.

End of the road at Cabo Tiburon

My next walk was through the village and over the hill to La Miel which is across the border in Panama. The path is paved most of the way and a long steep flight of concrete steps goes all the way up to a small, palm-thatched border post with two guards. I had to show my passport before being allowed to carry on. One of the guards generously gave me a delicious avocado. Now the steps dropped steeply down to the little village below. It was even smaller than Sapzurro with no sheltered anchorage for yachts. There is a lovely beach and a concrete dock for the supply boat and tourist launches and I had my first contact with Guna Yala officials who have a post there. I had a quick browse through the duty free store and was tempted to buy a bottle of rum as my supplies were running low, but resisted the temptation when I thought of having to carry the extra weight all the back up to the top. I had wrongly supposed that it would be possible to walk all the way to Obaldia, but I was assured that this was not the case.

Fishing boats at La Miel

Another day, another walk, this time to the nearby Colombian village of Capurgana. It is not accessible by road, but a narrow footpath leads through the jungle starting close to the anchorage. After an easy start it soon begins to climb quite steeply up the hill. The path is criss-crossed with exposed tree roots which form a natural staircase and make the rather slippery muddy clay path easy enough to negotiate. In places where the path levelled out, colourful butterflies fluttered ahead of me flying low through the dappled shade, their bright markings flickering like strobe lights. Lizards and iguanas fled panic-stricken out of my way.

A narrow path through the jungle

When I reached the top, the panoramic view over both sides was spectacular and well worth the climb. Workmen were busy constructing a covered pavilion where one will be able to relax and enjoy the view. They were in the process of laying a concrete floor and mixing cement to fill a foundation. I had a short rest and started the walk down the other side.

Looking down on Sapzurro

Soon the path turned into a muddy quagmire where I was forced to struggle, sometimes ankle-deep, through the mud. I was glad to have my bamboo walking stick to help to keep me from slipping right into it. After a short while of battling along, I had to step aside to allow a train of about 20 mules to pass. They were labouring up the hill, each carrying two heavy bags of sand for the building project. Their handlers urged them on with encouraging words. Now I understood how the path had got so churned up. As soon as they were unloaded at the top they began the trip down to fetch the next load. Later I was forced into the bush as a mule train on the way up met one on the way down. It was a jungle traffic jam.

Mule train in the mud

The village of Capurgana is quite a lot bigger than Sapzurro and seems to be more tourist conscious. There were many small hotels and hostels and most places advertised free wifi. I found a place to stop for a cold fruit juice, checked my emails and got a weather forecast. Again there were no cars and mules or donkeys were being used to pull carts. The waterfront was busy with launches coming and going from the public dock. After the gruelling mudslide down I made a snap decision to take a boat back to Sapzurro rather than reverse the trip to get back. When I went down to the dock I was told that there would soon be a boat for me and sure enough after a few minutes one arrived and I was the only passenger for the fast and exciting (and mud-free) ride back. It had been quite a day.

The boat that got me back

Posted in Colombia, Cruising | 1 Comment »

A funny thing happened on the way to Sapzurro

Friday, June 16th, 2017

We were motoring in an almost flat calm, doing a steady 4 knots and it looked as though we’d be able to get in before dark. In the hazy distance I thought I spotted an irregularity. Sure enough, through the binoculars, it looked like the superstructure of a big ship still hull down on the horizon. I had a feeling this might cause some delay. We were right on the border between Panama and Colombia and there was likely to be some Navy presence. I held my course and we slowly approached the ship, which was stationary. Just as we passed about a mile off its bow they called on the radio, which I had switched on hoping to get some AIS information about them. They were not transmitting an AIS signal which I found interesting. Of course I couldn’t make any sense of the radio call, but dutifully called back and about 10 minutes of confused, garbled and static-distorted radio talk in broken English/Spanish ensued. At last I was made to understand that they were a Colombian Navy vessel and wanted to board us for an inspection. I put the engine in neutral and six big, armed and uniformed men came alongside in a black inflatable. They were very polite and one spoke a little English. I handed over my papers and one of the men took photos of them with his phone. Another was on the radio relaying my particulars to headquarters.

Colombian Navy Ship

Now one of them must come aboard for the inspection. Big black boots clambered over the lifeline and clomped into the cockpit. Once below, he didn’t seem to know where to start. He unzipped a few of my cushions that are stuffed with winter clothes and just looked around before coming back to the crowded little cockpit. The English-speaker had also come aboard. I was intermittently using the engine to stop us from drifting too far from the mother ship and I noticed that the remaining four in the inflatable, who had not tied up to us, had floated some way off and had taken the cover off their big outboard engine while two of them were using paddles to try to get back to us. Attention was now diverted from the careful scrutiny of my passport and papers. The birth-date on my passport had caused some amazement and disbelief and they felt compelled to confirm it with me. Not only was I a female sailing alone, but an ancient crone to boot.

We motored over to the stricken inflatable and after more futile attempts to start the outboard, I agreed to give them a tow back to the ship as by now we had drifted about half a mile off. I was becoming a little concerned about the unnecessary delay which was putting my careful timing out. Speedwell gamely accepted the extra weight of the tow and we slowly progressed back to the ship. I released them fairly close to the intimidating side of the big ship, a little way short of the bow, and watched as they paddled safely back to the boarding ladder. We had parted on good terms with laughter and handshakes all round.

The boarding party after rescue

I didn’t hang about, but increased the revs and made it in to Sapzurro just before sunset, in the process proving that Speedwell is able to maintain 5 knots under power. Maybe the canal could still be a possibility.

Posted in Colombia, Cruising | No Comments »

Islands along the way

Wednesday, June 14th, 2017

On 18^th May I left Cartagena heading for the archipelago of Islas del Rosario about 20 miles away. The wind was very light and we had to do some motoring to get in before dark. I anchored off the southern shore of Isla Grande which seemed the better choice as there was a lot of coral on the northern side. The water was cleaner than in Cartagena but nothing spectacular. What wind there was came stubbornly from the south west. It was very light and the anchor was well dug-in in sand. We were in 3m of water with 25m of chain out. It might seem excessive but we were on a lee shore after all. As usual, we were the only boat there. I rigged up the cockpit awning and had a cooling swim, deciding to wait until the next day before going ashore. I checked my tablet but there seemed to be no internet.

I came ashore up a narrow creek

Next day I rowed ashore early in the morning and beached the dinghy up a narrow mangrove creek. There was a shady path leading across to the other side of the island through a scattered collection of houses and ending at a big, almost empty, eco-resort. Very attractive with open thatched palapas and simple cabañas. I had a look at the anchorage but wasn’t tempted to move the boat around. It would have been difficult for me to land the dinghy there as the swell breaks along the shore, regardless of wind direction. About an hour after getting back on board, the wind started to pick up and a nasty swell was making things rather uncomfortable. Soon it was blowing over 30 knots with spindrift off the top of the waves and I let out another 20m of chain. The ‘squall’ lasted all day but thankfully moderated in the evening. It was fortunate that I came back to Speedwell when I did, as I couldn’t have rowed against that wind and without the extra chain it’s very possible that she would have dragged. Just letting out the extra chain was quite a battle as I had to first winch in a few metres to unhook the snubber. Without the snubber the winch alone was unable to hold the chain. It was quite an enlightening experience.

I left the next day heading for Tintinpán, the biggest island in the San Bernardo archipelago, about 25nm away. Now there was hardly any wind and what there was was against us. Add to that a sea that was still unsettled after the previous day’s blow and we were going nowhere. I didn’t want to go back to the uncomfortable Isla Grande anchorage so l motored doggedly on. Thankfully the anchorage at Tintinpán gave much better protection and I spent a relaxing couple of days there enjoying the crystal clear water. I got my snorkel out and was able to do a bit of hull scrubbing. I was pleased to see that it was still looking quite respectable.

There were local fishermen in their dugout canoes casting throw nets as well as faster lanchas travelling between the islands. The main island has luxury holiday homes along the shore and there is a very small islet, absolutely cram-packed with small houses a short way off, where the permanent residents stay. It is reputed to be one of the most densely populated areas in the world. I didn’t go ashore. The Navionics charts show very little detail and all the islands are surrounded by shallow coral reefs.

The chain in 4m of water

Now it was on to Isla San Bernardo, another day-sail away. When I raised the anchor the chain caught around a small coral head. It was easy to see the problem as the water was absolutely clear and I was able to motor slowly around and dislodge it, hopefully without damaging the coral. We passed another small island along the way, Isla Perla, where I had hoped to make a lunch stop, but there was a bit of a breeze which would have made the only possible anchorage on a lee shore once again, so I came up close to have a look but decided to keep going.

Anchored off San Bernardo

A sand spit extends a long way to the south west off the tip of Isla San Bernardo and we rounded it about half a mile off in 4m. The sand spit does a wonderful job of protecting the big bay and we found a very peaceful anchorage in 5m on mud, hooked in behind the island. I could relax for a few days and not worry about sudden wind changes. It goes without saying that we were the only boat there. They say you should be careful what you wish for. This island also has a sprinkling of privately owned palm-thatched holiday houses along the waterfront, which are very well cared for by the local residents who live in more modest establishments among the mangroves. Tourist boats race across from the mainland bringing sightseers and scuba divers to explore the outer reefs. No shops or bars ashore.

A gentle downwind sail

I made a day-trip over to the small town of Berrugas only about 5 miles away across the bay. We had a lovely slow and gentle sail across with the wind just abaft the beam in flat water. What a treat. The approach is shallow from a long way out and we anchored in 3m about a third of a mile off. No sooner had we stopped than a canoe came out to us with 2 men paddling. They were interested to know where I was from and offered to take me ashore in the canoe. I was tempted, as it would save getting the dinghy down, but decided to decline the offer. It looked a bit wobbly and I always have to be careful about keeping my hearing aids dry.

A short while later I rowed ashore and the two who had come out to welcome me helped drag the dinghy up the beach. It was safely tied to a post under a shady awning and I set off to explore the village. Two little boys decided to be my guides to the nearest grocery shop. We walked along a sandy tree-lined main road to the centre of town where there were 3 or 4 small ‘tiendas’. I decided on the biggest one and they were able to sell me two tomatoes, an avocado, 2 mangoes, a carrot, 6 eggs and a bottle of coke for my rum in the evening. The two kids went happily on their way with a bag of chips each. Back at the waterfront I headed for the most promising looking small restaurant where a number of locals were hanging out. It was lunchtime and I had a plate of perfectly cooked fried fish, rice, plantain fritter and salad for the equivalent of less than 3 dollars. I was joined by an old fisherman and a young woman in a uniform. They were interested in the boat and how I managed to sail on my own. We struggled along with my broken Spanish but it was nice to have company for a change.

The supermarket in Berrugas

I returned to the anchorage at San Bernardo and after a few days of its calm uneventfulness I began to think that it might be more exciting to be on the move again. Isla Fuerte, about 35nm away, was the next logical stop. I had managed to download the PassageWeather.com 7-day wind forecast and there were no sudden changes predicted, just more of the same light winds coming from random directions. I’d filled the diesel tanks in Cartagena but had no idea where it would be possible to fill up again, so I had to avoid doing too much motoring. I set off after lunch, prepared to have a slow overnight trip and arrive before sunset the next day.

Isla Fuerte sunrise

Despite my good intentions we ended up motoring most of the way. There was about 1 knot of current against us and almost no wind. We had some respite at night when there was a light warm wind off the land for a few hours. As we neared Isla Fuerte there was a big slow swell rolling in from the North East and I wondered how it would affect the anchorage. I almost decided to bypass the island and just carry on to Portobello where I would be able to clear in to Panama, but we were so close now that I had to go in and take a look. I had some waypoints to get through the reef and they worked very well. Once inside, the water was flat calm and we were in a very pretty little bay. Time for coffee and toast for breakfast.

The fisherman’s beach where I got diesel

Isla Fuerte turned out to be one of the best stops so far. Again we were the only cruising boat there and it was easy to get ashore. There are no cars or roads on the island and it is criss-crossed with cool, shady, tree-lined paths. The only traffic consisted of pedestrians and donkeys with one or two bicycles and the occasional pig. The prepaid data time that I still had on my tablet gave me internet access. It was a short walk to the main village, Puerto Limón and the first thing I did was try to find out if diesel was available. I hadn’t realized that it was Sunday. The locals were relaxing in a plaza near the waterfront. Loud music blaring. Church must be over. They were friendly and welcoming. News travels fast in places like this and the little yellow boat had been spotted. To my happy surprise they could, indeed, sell me some diesel. Back at the boat I emptied the jerry cans into the main tank and rowed around to the fisherman’s beach where the diesel was. No pump of course, but it was siphoned out of a barrel into a bucket and then poured via a funnel into my cans. It looked clean enough and I would filter it before putting it in the main tank.

I spent three days at Isla Fuerte. I had read that there were sloths to be seen in the trees but never managed to spot them. The only sloth I have ever seen was in Domberg, Surinam. It had made the fatal mistake of spreading itself out for a snooze across the live electrical wires above the main street.

Giant trees are a tourist attraction on the island. One, El Tun-tun is fenced off, but the other, El Bongo, is the centrepiece of a small park. It was mango season and they were freely available scattered under many mango trees along the paths. It was wonderful to be in a place which has evolved to accommodate pedestrians rather than motor vehicles. Sometimes the paths were like long green tunnels. The animals: donkeys, pigs, dogs and chickens, seemed healthy and happy just free-ranging and living their lives, as I also try to do. Of course, the animals had their duties – donkeys carried heavy loads, dogs protected their owners and we all know what happens to pigs and chickens. So I’m happy enough with my lot.

A typical Isla Fuerte ‘street’

As I now felt more confident about the diesel situation, I decided to deviate a little from the direct route to Portobello and make a stop in Sapzurro which is right on the border with Panama. I set off early in the morning threading my way carefully back through the reefs. The wind was light but it was possible to lay the course. As darkness approached distant lightning lit up the sky all round. As it came nearer I could see jagged streaks striking the water. Just carry on and hope for the best. It reached us eventually with strong wind and torrential rain. I blessed the junk rig as I quickly reduced sail and turned up into wind to let it pass. No point in allowing the rain to come straight down the companionway. Soon we were on our way again under an almost half-moon.

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Cartagena

Monday, May 29th, 2017

There were quite a few yachts anchored off Club Nautica, where you are allowed to use the dinghy dock. It was a short row, although I had to keep a sharp eye out for the fast water taxis that were constantly speeding about creating an enormous wake.

The anchorage at Cartagena

The port captain refuses to deal personally with arriving yachties making it essential to use an agent for the clearing in process and the woman in the club office helpfully phoned an agent for me who arrived within half an hour. Apart from having to pay US$120 for the service, it was quick and painless. I did not get a cruising permit as this would have cost an additional $120, but if I cleared out again within 12 days I could make short stops along the coast en route to Panama. That sounded OK to me as I didn’t want to spend too long in the nutrient rich waters of Cartagena harbour. As far as I could discover, all the other cruising yachts were heading up from Panama. There was still no one to compare notes with for the route I was taking.

The way into town

As soon as the official stuff was over, I set off to explore the old city. It was hot and humid, very much warmer than the weather I had become used to along the Eastern Caribbean islands. Sweat literally dripped off me as I strolled along, water bottle within easy reach in a side-pocket of my back pack. It’s a fairly short walk from the yacht club across an arched bridge over to the other side of the lagoon which gave a great view past the old fort of San Sebastian to the anchorage. Then it was down into a colourful, narrow street leading to the centre of town. I came out onto an enormous esplanade with a park on one side and a graceful old clock tower over a heavy stone archway at the far end.

The clock tower

All very impressive, but the really interesting parts were a bit further on where there are a bewildering number of beautiful old Spanish colonial buildings, small parks and plazas shaded with giant spreading ficus trees. Crowds of pigeons strutting about round imperialistic statues. Most of the parks and plazas have free, open Wi-Fi. I wandered through a museum chronicling the horrors of the inquisition. After that I needed a break and bought a big cup of freshly squeezed orange juice with ice from a street vendor for 1000 pesos (about 30c) and cooled off under a shady tree.

Flowery balconies

There is a maze of narrow side streets with lots of small hostels and eateries as well as luxury shops and jewellers displaying brilliant green emeralds. I drooled over a tennis bracelet of sparkling green gemstones. Wherever there is a blank wall it has been covered with wonderful graffiti and many of the upper level wooden balconies are draped with flowering creepers.

Narrow street with grafitti

Everywhere there was colour and strikingly off-beat design. My camera was working overtime. (How I wish I had a better one). I rounded off the day by walking back along the wide top of the ancient city wall which gave a great view of the rooftops on one side and the sea that I’d recently sailed on the other.

The top of the wall

On another day I rowed ashore early with my two 10 litre jerry cans to buy diesel from the nearest filling station. It was an easy walk along a smooth pedestrian/cycle track and my little trolley was a great help. It needed two trips to fill the main tank which I had last filled back in Martinique. Later I set off on a mission to find a replacement for my small 12V computer fan that keeps me cool at night. I bought it about 7 years ago in Brazil and it has given me faithful, low-amperage, cooling service almost continuously, but a day after arriving in the Colombian heat it decided that enough was enough and simply stopped. A few squirts of WD40 restored it for 2 days, but then it gave off a spiteful spark and died completely with a whiff of burning plastic. On my sightseeing trips I had explored the enormous covered market called Centro Comercial Getsemani which housed hundreds of small traders ranging from cell-phones to hair-extensions, interesting snack-food, clothing and computer paraphernalia. I was sure I’d be able to find what I needed. But no, the best on offer was a really tiny fan about 5cm across. Not good enough, but the helpful stall-keeper gave me detailed directions as to where I could find a more likely supplier.

I liked this one

I set off hopefully, away from the historical district to a more commercial part of town. No more tourists here, but crowds of real people going about their business. Then I was caught in a tropical downpour. Thunder and lightning, torrential rain. I joined a crowd sheltering in an arcade fronting one of the old buildings. Everyone frozen in a state of suspended animation waiting for the rain to stop. At last it did and life carried on. But some streets were flooded and crossing most roads involved a big leap over the streaming gutters, often helped by someone on the other side who saw my difficulty and would point at where the river was narrowest. At last I found the shop, called ‘Electronica’ on Avenida Daniel Lemaitre, and went in. It appeared to specialize in sound equipment, big speakers and amplifiers on display. I explained what I was looking for and was amazed and delighted to be met, not with a vacant and unbelieving stare, but a brisk inquiry as to whether it should be 12V or 110. She had exactly what I wanted and at a price that translated to US$5, I decided to invest in two. Each was carefully tested before I was allowed to leave. Back at the boat a few hours later, I wired it up and could be blissfully cooled again.

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Towards Cartagena

Wednesday, May 17th, 2017

Now it was on to Santa Marta about 130 nm away. I sailed out of Ensenada Huaraticheru at dawn. I hadn’t been able to get a weather forecast but the wind was light and things looked stable. There was a gentle breeze which would have been enough to keep us moving in a flat sea, but flat it was not and the Navik couldn’t cope with the conditions. I didn’t fancy hand-steering for two days so I hauled out the electric autopilot and started motors-sailing. It was boring but effective. At about 11am the wind picked up a bit and we were able to sail again.

The whole of the next day we made slow steady progress without having to resort to motoring. A little before midnight we passed the entrance to Santa Marta just ahead of a big tanker that was slowly moving out. It was rather alarming. I decided not to go into the busy commercial harbour in the dark and carried on for a few more miles to the beach resort of Rodadero just around the corner and very nicely protected from the Easterly wind.

The bay is deep until you get right up close to the beach. Even at that time of night there were people about, strolling along the promenade and loud music was playing. I anchored in 12m which should keep me far enough away from the swimming area.

The busy fisherman’s beach

Next day I rowed ashore and left the dinghy on the crowded fisherman’s beach. A young boy promised to keep an eye on it for me. The waterfront was lined with high-rise apartment buildings and there was a palm tree shaded promenade, already busy at 9 in the morning. The scene was very reminiscent of similar resorts in Brazil. People were enjoying themselves.

I needed to get some local money and a chip for my tablet so that I could get connected again. It could have been done right there in Rodadero, but I wanted to have a look at the old city of Santa Marta. There were plenty of ATM’s so I drew some cash ($1 ~ 2900 Colombian pesos) and found out where to catch a bus into town. It was good to be back in a place where there was public transport. The half hour ride to town cost 1600 pesos – about 60c. In fact I got a free ride as I didn’t have small change and the driver said not to worry.

A typical sidestreet in Santa Marta

I got off in the beautiful old historical part of town and really enjoyed just strolling around. The streets were busy with street vendors selling everything from cell phones to handwoven fabric bags. Fruit stalls with mangoes and pineapples. Delicious smelling hot cooked snacks. I managed to get some prepaid data time for the tablet from a street vendor on a busy corner. It was very efficiently done until it came to finding change for the 50000 peso note which I wanted to pay with. It was the smallest that had come out of the ATM. But, no problem! She dashed off down the street with my cash and phone and was able to get change from a driver of one of the busses passing by.

I walked down to the waterfront promenade and found a shady place to have an icy freshly squeezed orange juice while I checked my mail and the latest weather info. I had a look at the big marina but felt that, for a short stay, I was far better off anchored in the bay at Rodadero. I did some more sightseeing and when an afternoon thunderstorm broke I caught the bus back.

Santa Marta promenade

After a luxurious full night’s sleep I spent the next day on board, intermittently fending off curious pedal boaters. The only problem with Rodadero is that you are forced to anchor fairly close to the crowded beach and become the centre of attraction. Hired pedal boats are very popular and during the day there was a fairly steady stream of them pedalling by and taking pictures or just hanging in my lee while chilling out with a few beers.

Anchored off the beach at Rodadero

The next day I had a fast sail down to Puerto Velero, a very good anchorage protected by a long sandbank. The entrance is well marked with lighted buoys. The new marina didn’t look very busy and I was the only cruising boat in the anchorage off the beach on the NE corner. Nothing much ashore except the usual thatched beach shacks and a few bars.

Before reaching Puerto Velero I had to cross the mouth of the Magdalena River with its busy entrance to the commercial port of Barranquilla. Ships were coming from all directions and the AIS came in very handy, showing me how they were heading. To add to the fun, the sea was very rough with big swells. We were running dead downwind with the sail right out. At times I had to help the Navik to stay on track as a gybe here would have been nasty.

Puerto Velero waterfront

I left Puerto Velero at moonrise, about 8:30 pm, heading for Cartagena, 60 miles away. The moonlight was bright and it was wonderfully cool. Speedwell doesn’t have very effective sun protection while sailing as the sheet for the junk sail crosses low through the cockpit. It can be a problem in the tropics. So a moonlight sail makes a lot of sense.

This time the forecast was accurate and we had to motor all the way. There was also some current running against us and we were only able to manage 2 – 3 knots. At about 2pm on Saturday we still had just over 20 miles to go and the forest of high-rise apartment blocks and hotels that line the Cartagena waterfront were visible. We passes a flotilla of fishermen in open boats working a sandbank.

Approaching Cartagena

Cartagena is a walled city, a necessity in the old days to fend off invaders. Part of the wall extends across Boca Chica, the widest and most convenient entrance to the bay. It is underwater and can’t be seen. I wondered how many old ships had smashed up against it. Nowadays there is a section where the water over it is deep enough for small boats to cross. My guide book said that there were buoys marking the spot and at last I was able to see them. I steered carefully through keeping a sharp eye on the depth sounder. We passed over a short section of 3m and we were in.

Now we were surrounded by water taxis, weekend sailors, big ships, tugs and millionaire gin-palace yachts. All speeding around and churning up the water. Speedwell chugged steadily along for the nearly 2 miles to the anchorage off the Club Nautica marina and we thankfully dropped anchor in 13m. It was reassuring to see that we weren’t the only cruising boat in the country.

Posted in Colombia, Cruising, Western Caribbean | 1 Comment »

On to Colombia

Wednesday, May 10th, 2017

I had read so many dire warnings about the rough sea conditions along the NE coast of Colombia that I was feeling rather anxious about starting out. I had a reasonable weather forecast but in order to reach my first safe harbour at Cabo de la Vela, 500 miles away, in good weather, I would have to be able to maintain at least 100 nm per day. Seeing as I usually estimate my trip times using an average speed of 3knots I would have to push it. When I left Ponce the wind was about 15-20 knots from the East. We raced along with the wind on the beam, despite a rough and bouncy sea. The ocean swell rolls in from the NE and crosses the wind waves coming from the east causing nasty confused water. I took a seasick pill just to be safe. The first day went well and we managed to maintain an average speed of 5knots. It was looking good. But the strong conditions were starting to take a toll on the rig. Over the next 3 days I had to heave-to four times in order to fix small breakages: two batten attachment lashings chafed through on separate occasions, a stitched tab for the attachment on yet another batten pulled apart, a small saddle screwed to the boom for the tack line came adrift. Each time I needed to clip on and only use one hand to replace lashings, stitching or screws while trying to ignore the rather exciting movement of the boat and hang on for dear life with the other. Once again I was thankful for the ease with which it is possible to heave-to with Speedwell.

The Navik back in action

A rather more serious breakage happened just before sunset on day 3. I was below taking a short rest and the movement was quite rough but steady. Suddenly I felt a change and things seemed ominously quiet. Then we suddenly gybed. I dashed up on deck to see what had happened and to my dismay saw that the long connecting rod on the Navik self-steering gear had come adrift. Oh well, it had happened before and fortunately I had a spare. So we hove-to once again and I perched on the stern rail and unscrewed the Navik to bring it inside. Fortunately I was able to remember where I had stowed the spare and we were soon back in action again. I thanked my lucky stars that all these mishaps had occurred during daylight hours.

Dawn approaching Cabo de la Vela

Day 4 and we were approaching the other side. It might be possible to stop at Aruba if the weather turned nasty but I really didn’t want to have to to this, as they feel that South Africans should have a visa (which I don’t have) and their harbour fees are exorbitant. I steered towards the small Archipelago of Monjes which is part of Venezuela and could provide refuge in extremis. But things didn’t look too bad so I bravely kept going, heading along the coast of the Guajira peninsula. There was a fairly big swell but nothing too horrendous. As the sun came up we rounded Cabo de la Vela and anchored in the flat water of Ensenada Huaritcheru. Fishermen were out in their open boats. It was a beautiful scene.

I tidied up the sail and had a few hours sleep.

Kite boarders out in the strong afternoon wind

It was too windy to even think about rowing ashore so I spent the rest of the day sorting things out aboard. Kite boarders were enjoying the breeze and the flat water. Some whizzed by really close to have a look at us. We were the only cruising boat there. What a change from the Caribbean.

A perfect beach for Bokkom

Next morning it was flat calm. I got the dinghy in the water and took the opportunity to row ashore. A perfect beach for landing with no waves breaking. I took a long walk along the water’s edge. I hadn’t expected to arrive in a desert area. I imagined Colombia to be all tropical rain forest and lush greenery. This was amazing. Wonderful dry air for a change. There are a lot of simple shelters all along the beach, mostly open sided with palm thatched roofs and posts for slinging hammocks. All catering for visitors and weekenders coming to enjoy the superb kite-boarding conditions. A narrow sandy track follows the coastline.

A deserted desert beach

Every now and then I stopped to watch the local Wayuu Indian fishermen and their families busily cleaning the morning’s catch. Any bits and pieces left on the sand were quickly taken care of by the Crested Caracaras that looked on expectantly. Everyone seemed friendly and identified me with the little yellow boat anchored in the bay. One of them wanted to swap hats with me. He had a rather splendid panama job but I’m attached to my special hat and couldn’t bring myself to give it up. No offence. Thumbs up sign. On I wander.

An oystercatcher gives me the eye

Further along I spotted a beautiful American Oystercatcher being followed by a little sanderling and a pair of turnstones. Next there was a gaggle(?) of cormorants who took to the water when I came too close. Pelicans were fishing a short way off and there were terns and frigatebirds. Oh, why hadn’t I brought my binoculars?

Caracaras cleaning up after the fishermen

I was tempted to keep walking and visit the lighthouse up on the hill, but the wind was picking up again and whitecaps were starting to appear on the water. Time to head back. It would be a fast downwind row and heaven help me if I got blown past the boat. Apparently, this is the normal daily pattern – the wind picks up really strongly starting at about 11am reaching a peak around 2-3 in the afternoon and then dying down again at night. Nevertheless, the bay provided a very comfortable anchorage completely protected from the swell.

Huaraticheru Bay with cormorants

Posted in Birds, Colombia, Cruising, Junk Rig | No Comments »

Ponce, Puerto Rico

Tuesday, May 9th, 2017

I don’t have an actual cruising guide to Puerto Rico but from my charts it looked as if Puerto Patillas on the South East coast would be a good overnight stop on the way to Ponce. It was an easy 20 odd miles from Esperanza, Vieques, and we arrived in the early afternoon after a smooth sail between the islands. The anchorage is tucked in behind a big reefy area and I sailed carefully around it rather than trust what could have possibly been a shorter approach between the shallow patches. The wind was quite strong so I preferred to be cautious. There were a handful of other yachts anchored in the wonderfully protected bay, most of them appeared to be local boats. It was fairly shallow and I anchored in sand in just under 3m. The name is misleading as it is not really a port, just a scattering of small bars and restaurants and a stretch of beach with palm trees. The beach and swimming area were crowded as it was still the Easter weekend. I wanted to be able to contact the bank to sort out my problem as quickly as possible, so I couldn’t stay, and regrettably had to push on again early the next morning.

The next day started out with a gentle breeze and we drifted out of the anchorage at dawn just managing 2 knots with the full sail up. By 10am I was reefed right down and racing along at hull speed. No need to worry about getting in before dark!

The approach to Ponce harbour is well marked and it was a relief to get into sheltered water after the hectic day’s sailing. It took two attempts to get the anchor to set properly and I decided to wait until tomorrow before going ashore.

The boardwalk on a weekday

The very exclusive Ponce Yacht and Fishing Club does not allow cruising boats to use their facilities. At the head of the bay there is a long boardwalk lined with restaurants and I rowed along hopefully looking for a place to tie up the dinghy. The designated dinghy dock was not practical for me and would only be my last resort. It was my lucky day: as I rowed along to the extreme opposite end of the board walk, someone called to me. It was a local sailor who had come past admiring Speedwell the previous afternoon. He got permission for me to tie up to one of the docks of a smaller fishing club. It was an ideal spot for me and I was very grateful.

Shady path next to the motorway

However, once ashore, I soon came to realise that this would not be the easiest place to get around. I had become so used to the ubiquitous minibuses in the rest of the Caribbean that I assumed there would be no problem getting into town. Wrong. The anchorage is surrounded by an enormous ‘recreational area’ which becomes a wasteland during the week and only comes alive at the weekend. It is designed for people who have cars. Very wide barren roads and acres of parking to be trudged across. I checked the map app on my tablet to find the nearest place to get some prepaid data time and started walking the 6.5km to the closest AT&T branch in Plaza de Caribe, a big glossy mall. I am used to walking but it was a long, hot, boring walk along the side of the motorway. Although, thankfully, and unlike other motorways that I have walked beside, there is a smooth, well-maintained pedestrian/cycle track running all the way along. Even some small trees to provide a bit of shade. I was quite impressed, despite the fact that the trees were mostly super-toxic manchineels.

Plaza las Delicias

The interesting part of town is centered around the Plaza las Delicias, nearly 8km from the anchorage.. I walked it once and then decided I might just be able to afford the taxi fare. It was definitely worth the trip as it is a wonderful contrast to the characterless shopping malls, motorways and parking areas that dominate the area. I enjoyed wandering about admiring the old buildings and the friendly, laid back atmosphere. I was included in a free tour of one of the old houses and then a trolley ride around all the points of interest. Just like a real tourist.

The Old Firestation

But time was moving on and I was keen to sail over to Cartagena as soon as there was a break in the rather rough weather. I was not getting anywhere with the bank so I decided to postpone trying to satisfy their demand for a proof of permanent residence and get ready to leave. I would need an official exit document to show the immigration authorities in Colombia, so next day I headed for the US Customs and Border Patrol people.

A typical street in the old port

The customs office is in the old port, a mere 3.5 km walk from the anchorage. The old port is a bit of a ghost town with streets lined with solid old buildings, many of them gutted inside but with the exterior walls painted in vibrant colours. Some house engineering works or provide parking for customers. There weren’t many cars around. The customs building itself is beautifully maintained and I was graciously received. No long noisy queue to join. A pleasant conversation with the port captain who was interested in my travels. I got the necessary documents and was ready to leave.

Couldn’t resist showing this beautiful green iguana at the dinghy dock

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