I am completely steeped in topical beauty. It is amazing here. We are anchored between a large island and a small one, with an even smaller island between the small island and the big one. Confusing? I suppose so. The islands are covered with greenery and tall trees. As long as one does not analyze the foliage. it would appear that we are in Wisconsin (except for the rugged hills) or the Ozarks (except for the lack of bluffs). The beaches with their golden sand disappear at high tide, and then at low tide, there are tide pools all over the place. I have been taking pictures but since there is no internet here I can't post them. (I am posting this via my SSB radio.) Until this morning, we had the place to ourselves, us, the birds and the fish. While we were riding around in the dinghy yesterday, we saw an agouti running along the rocky shoreline. We watch flocks of pelicans and other sea birds feeding, while the frigate birds circle overhead, waiting for someone else to catch something so they can steal it. Frigate birds usually don't do their own hunting, they just steal from other birds. But if no other birds are around, they will fish, and I have seen them do it, I like to watch animals and other creatures eat. I like to see dogs carrying things in their mouths. When pelicans get a fish, they gulp it down by throwing their heads back, and then they shake their tail feathers in a satisfied manner. I have watched closely and they all do this.
The weather has been perfect since we left Panama City - some rain, but not too much, and mostly at night. No lightning close enough to cause us trouble. We are enjoying it here so much that we have decided to stay a week or so. This is an archipelago, so there are plenty of islands to explore. I want to do some fishing today. We caught two fish on the way here - one was too big and got away after Mike fought it for about 10-15 minutes, we never even got to see it. He said it felt big, and he has a good feel for this sort of thing. Later on we caught another, but it was too small so we let it go. I have noticed that Mike has lost his taste for sport fishing. The more we learn abut the fish, and the more we observe them, the less we want to hurt them. Now we fish only to get something to eat. If it is too big, it goes back.
Otherwise, there is not a lot to tell. I do need to take the big genoa (jib) down and mend the sail cover. Yesterday we made water and did laundry. We have decided that water making day (every four days or so, not that we use it up that fast, but the machine requires it be used that often, or else "pickled" with a solution that keeps bacteria from building up in the filters.) And if we do laundry every four days, there are only a few things needing to be washed at one time. If I try to wash too many things at once with my bucket and plunger, they don't get rinsed as well as I would like. So all of the water that would normally wasted during the process of desalinization now gets trapped and used for laundry. It is the proverbial win-win situation for all concerned. Besides, at anchor like this, all I am ever washing are wash rags, towels, bathing suits, boxers, and a few T-shirts. (Those take the longest to dry.) Any time we are anchored near any sort of town, city or even a settlement, I can always find someone to do my laundry for me. I like doing it myself, even with the bucket and plunger method. Laundry is the only household chore I really like to do, whether it is this primitive method I have now, or my own washer and dryer, or a Laundromat(I never know how to spell that word). I like folding the clean clothes.
The really really really good news is that the roach problem is no longer a serious problem. We still see them here and there, but nothing like it was before. We are still on high alert and in massacre mode, which will never stop. As soon as we notice them in a certain area, we spray the hell out of that area. We see lots of dead ones, and the live ones don't look very healthy. I will never take a roachless life for granted again. I have never hated a creature the way I hate these roaches. I the them so much I feel sort of bad about it, to be honest. But there it is, and I have to be honest and live with myself, even the bad parts. So I am a hater of roaches, too bad.
These days I feel really fortunate. We are not having any boat problems, the area here is beautiful, we are not on a schedule, and I have come to grips with a few issues that I have needed to address for some time now. That is a good feeling. I thought that by the time I reached this age, I would either have figured it all out, or maybe not care anymore whether I do or not. But it does not work that way - someone read some stuff I wrote here a while back and told me I sounded like a 12 year old (long story here). So be it.
"We are being made into a fearful people, and fearful people will stand for very little deviation." Lillian Hellman
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Thursday, July 4, 2013
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Perfect Times
We left Panama City June 28 (Friday) and sailed out to Isla Mogo Mogo, in the Las Perlas Islands. We plan to spend some time out here, and then take off for Ecuador.
First, some sad news though - our dog Tempest has passed away. If there is a heaven or anything like that, I expect to see Tempest running to greet me when I arrive. She was very well cared for through her dotage by a dear dear friend who probably cared for her better than we ever did. My friend told me that when she realized the time had come, she took Tempest on a car ride (which she loved), and allowed her to eat a package of powdered sugar donuts (which she was allergic to but loved even more than a car ride). She had Tempest in her arms when Tempest left us. I am heartbroken, but at the same time, I was ready for it. Mike and I have been talking a lot about her lately, especially about how she was getting pretty old (14 years old in people years) and likely did not have too much time left. We feel badly for our friend, and can never fully express our gratitude to her.
Our sail here to the island was good and bad - not really bad, except for the interminable last five miles. The whole trip is about 35 miles or so, and for most of the day we had great winds and an almost ideal sail. The only problem - not really a problem - was that it was raining for a good part of it. And there is really no place in our cockpit to stay dry, as we don't have a pilot house. The only cover is the bimini top and the solar panels, which do little or nothing to keep out anything but a light rain. So that can be sort of unpleasant, even though we have slickers and it is not particularly cold. At the end of the trip, we came across a contrary current that dropped our speed to practically nothing and not even the engine helped much. So it took hours to go the last five miles. When we got here, it had pretty much stopped. The seas were a bit rough our first night here at anchor, but since then, the anchorage has been idyllic. We made water, cleaned the boat's waterline, and just lazed around. TOday we plan to take the dinghy over to the island itself, since it seems as though they are not using it for Survivor. So we will hike around and see what is there.
The last couple of nights here have been everything you dream about when setting off to cruise - the deserted anchorage, the white sand beach, the turquoise and sapphire colors in the water, the reef fish, and the sunsets while sitting on the deck sipping a beer - we have it all right here, right now. It is rainy today, which may put a crimp in our plans to visit the island. Though we have had rain, we have had no lightning close enough to make us nervous. I sent for a new cookbook, and have been spending time just looking through it, thinking about things I might like to make. I did not have a really good, comprehensive cookbook, and I like to leaf through them for ideas about what to fix for dinner, and for sheer entertainment. Otherwise, I can never think of anything new and just make the same things over and over again.
Even though I am really looking forward to going to Ecuador, I have some trepidation. We have to go way out of our way due to contrary winds and currents, and two different boats had to turn back due to damage to their boats. I know we are going to spend at least several days bashing to windward, which is really uncomfortable, especially with confused, sloppy seas. So that is what we are looking at, and while I know it won't be fun, I am really trying to consider it a challenge to be met and overcome, not something to be simply endured. I hope I can keep Mike from getting cranky, and hope he can get enough sleep in those conditions. But I really want to get underway - I am so excited at the thought of Crossing the Equator, and being on a new continent (South America). I feel like I am starting a new leg in this on-going adventure I embarked upon in November of 2010, when we left our marina slip in San Diego and headed for Mexico. So far this trip has taken me to six countries. I have covered I don't know how many sea miles. I have seen whales, dolphins, fish of all sorts, birds of all sorts, monkeys, sloths, agoutis, and many more animals and other wild life. We have slept in luxury hotels and jungle shacks, eaten gourmet meals and feasted on rodent as well. Now it is time for something new.
So from now on, I will pretty much be away from the internet, but I can still make these posts through the SSB radio - and by the way, I am a regular "Net Controller" on one of the cruiser's radio networks we have here. It is a lot of fun, and has given us an opportunity to track the people ahead of us who are on their way to Ecuador. We know who took a good route, and who misjudged the route. If anyone needs to contact me, use WDF5496@sailmail.com. Don't send pictures or attachments, and no forwards. We should be here in the islands for another week, and then we should be underway. That is the plan, anyway, and as is the way with sailing, always subject to change without warning.
"Love reaches its full potential when feedback is given compassionately, received with generosity, and changes are made with grace." (Virginia Gleser)
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First, some sad news though - our dog Tempest has passed away. If there is a heaven or anything like that, I expect to see Tempest running to greet me when I arrive. She was very well cared for through her dotage by a dear dear friend who probably cared for her better than we ever did. My friend told me that when she realized the time had come, she took Tempest on a car ride (which she loved), and allowed her to eat a package of powdered sugar donuts (which she was allergic to but loved even more than a car ride). She had Tempest in her arms when Tempest left us. I am heartbroken, but at the same time, I was ready for it. Mike and I have been talking a lot about her lately, especially about how she was getting pretty old (14 years old in people years) and likely did not have too much time left. We feel badly for our friend, and can never fully express our gratitude to her.
Our sail here to the island was good and bad - not really bad, except for the interminable last five miles. The whole trip is about 35 miles or so, and for most of the day we had great winds and an almost ideal sail. The only problem - not really a problem - was that it was raining for a good part of it. And there is really no place in our cockpit to stay dry, as we don't have a pilot house. The only cover is the bimini top and the solar panels, which do little or nothing to keep out anything but a light rain. So that can be sort of unpleasant, even though we have slickers and it is not particularly cold. At the end of the trip, we came across a contrary current that dropped our speed to practically nothing and not even the engine helped much. So it took hours to go the last five miles. When we got here, it had pretty much stopped. The seas were a bit rough our first night here at anchor, but since then, the anchorage has been idyllic. We made water, cleaned the boat's waterline, and just lazed around. TOday we plan to take the dinghy over to the island itself, since it seems as though they are not using it for Survivor. So we will hike around and see what is there.
The last couple of nights here have been everything you dream about when setting off to cruise - the deserted anchorage, the white sand beach, the turquoise and sapphire colors in the water, the reef fish, and the sunsets while sitting on the deck sipping a beer - we have it all right here, right now. It is rainy today, which may put a crimp in our plans to visit the island. Though we have had rain, we have had no lightning close enough to make us nervous. I sent for a new cookbook, and have been spending time just looking through it, thinking about things I might like to make. I did not have a really good, comprehensive cookbook, and I like to leaf through them for ideas about what to fix for dinner, and for sheer entertainment. Otherwise, I can never think of anything new and just make the same things over and over again.
Even though I am really looking forward to going to Ecuador, I have some trepidation. We have to go way out of our way due to contrary winds and currents, and two different boats had to turn back due to damage to their boats. I know we are going to spend at least several days bashing to windward, which is really uncomfortable, especially with confused, sloppy seas. So that is what we are looking at, and while I know it won't be fun, I am really trying to consider it a challenge to be met and overcome, not something to be simply endured. I hope I can keep Mike from getting cranky, and hope he can get enough sleep in those conditions. But I really want to get underway - I am so excited at the thought of Crossing the Equator, and being on a new continent (South America). I feel like I am starting a new leg in this on-going adventure I embarked upon in November of 2010, when we left our marina slip in San Diego and headed for Mexico. So far this trip has taken me to six countries. I have covered I don't know how many sea miles. I have seen whales, dolphins, fish of all sorts, birds of all sorts, monkeys, sloths, agoutis, and many more animals and other wild life. We have slept in luxury hotels and jungle shacks, eaten gourmet meals and feasted on rodent as well. Now it is time for something new.
So from now on, I will pretty much be away from the internet, but I can still make these posts through the SSB radio - and by the way, I am a regular "Net Controller" on one of the cruiser's radio networks we have here. It is a lot of fun, and has given us an opportunity to track the people ahead of us who are on their way to Ecuador. We know who took a good route, and who misjudged the route. If anyone needs to contact me, use WDF5496@sailmail.com. Don't send pictures or attachments, and no forwards. We should be here in the islands for another week, and then we should be underway. That is the plan, anyway, and as is the way with sailing, always subject to change without warning.
"Love reaches its full potential when feedback is given compassionately, received with generosity, and changes are made with grace." (Virginia Gleser)
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Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Las Perlas - Isla Contadora
I promised pictures of the Las Perlas Islands and here are some of them. Like I said before, it was paradisaical - and gorgeous. Here is an agouti - these large rodents run around like squirrels. I think they are similar to the gibnut, which I ate in Belize.
Here is the beach we anchored off, and landed with the dinghy. It had beautiful blue stone cliffs.
There were flowers everywhere, as well as lots of jungle greenery.
This is a wrecked ferry you can prowl around. There is nothing left but the hull.
Right now we are back in Panama City, preparing to leave next week for Ecuador. One of the boats that left here took a record 25 days to get there - but they had the weather against them and no working engine. We will likely have headwinds and a contrary current as well, but we have a working engine. I am talking to everyone I come in contact with who has done this passage, so I should be pretty well informed when the time comes to choose the route.
We have been really busy since we got back - Mike installed a new solar panel and has to change out some of the toilet plumbing and he is not looking forward to doing that! We got a new barbecue grill - it seems to work really well. You have to have a gas grill unless you want to sacrifice storage space to bags and bags of charcoal. We had a grill that came with the boat, but it did not work well (problems with temperature control) and recently the top blew off and was lost to the sea. Then we discovered the fancy ones on sale, so one thing led to another and we have a new grill. Mike made awesome ribs on it last night.
I have also been active on the SSB net and will be the net controller two days this week. I like doing it and we have a really good radio that picks up almost everyone. We got all new anchor chain, and today we will switch out the old chain. We got and installed a new shower head system. All the electronics and working, the watermaker is making water like crazy, and despite really liking it here, we are getting itchy to leave and get underway for a new place. I am amazed to think that soon I will be in a new hemisphere and will have crossed the equator. There are ceremonies involved with crossing the equator - before you do it, you are but a slimy polliwog, but afterwards, you are a Shellback. Mike told me the Navy does all this hazing type stuff as a ritual, so I said he would have to come up with one for me, but I did not want it to be just assigning chores. So we will see.
So that is really it for now. We are happy and busy, and things seem to be falling together nicely. Time to get up on deck and help with the chain on load!
"Concentrate on what you want to say to yourself and your friends. Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness. You say what you want to say when you don't care who's listening." (Allen Ginsberg)
Monday, June 10, 2013
Islas Las Perlas
We are currently at anchor in the Las Perlas, an island chain off Panama City. It is truly having the best of both worlds - these islands are beautiful, many uninhabited, with clear, warm water and lots of fish. There are reefs to snorkel over and trials to hike. And on the other hand, one is only about 35 miles from all that Panama City has to offer. I have some pictures to post, but the internet where we are currently anchored is too slow to get that job done. So today it will be words only.
The first island we anchored off was Isla Contadora. This one is not uninhabited - in fact, it is chock full of absolutely gorgeous houses. This is where Noriega used to hold meetings with international leaders, and the current administration may do so as well. There were some hotels, some restaurants (we had one really good meal ashore) and a few shops. There was a small tienda where we were able to top off our beer supply (always a priority).
After a few days at Contadora, we anchored between two islands - Isla Chapera and Isla Mogo Mogo (love that name). Mogo Mogo is where three episodes of "Survivor" was filmed, and right now they are filming the Turkish version thereof at the same location. We have seen pangas coming to and fro, carrying Turkish-looking people back and forth. Today a sad looking guy was ferried by - maybe he was voted off. I have only seen that show once - when a friend of my sister's was a contestant. She got voted off the first episode, so I refused to ever watch it again. (I am nothing if not loyal). Also, the contestants seem to be mean and treacherous. We went swimming yesterday off a gorgeous little beach with crystal clear water, and it was fantastic. I did get a bit sunburn, something I am really careful about normally, but it isn't too bad and I have aloe vera gel to help with it. Today it is overcast, so when we leave to go fishing in the dinghy, I will still be careful and wear a big T-shirt. Hopefully we will have fresh fish for dinner, but one never knows. The best way to ensure a catch is to take something out of the freezer and thaw it for dinner.
It is REALLY humid here in Panama. Way more so than either Mexico or El Salvador (which I did not think was possible). We have to oil down the wood somewhere in the cabin almost every single day to keep the growth of mold away. It isn't a gross black mold or something hazardous to ones health, but it looks like dust and would probably cause some sort of problem if allowed to grow unchecked. It rains almost every day, at least for a little while. I don't mind that - I love rain - but it gets kind of hot in the cabin when the hatches all have to be closed. But the decks sure are clean, and we have been drinking collected rainwater, which is an awesome way to live. Plus, in bed, my head is directly under a hatch, so the minute it starts to rain at night, I wake up immediately. This way we can leave everything open at night without worrying that things inside will get soaked before someone wakes up and shuts the hatches.
The only concern about things here is that there is a LOT of lightning. I mean a lot, almost every day even if it doesn't rain. We have heard that a substantial number of boats here were struck by lightning last season, and that is a matter for concern. If that happens, we lose all of our electronics. When the lightning gets bad, we take the computer and the hand held GPS and put them in the oven. There is a name for this - a something chamber - and supposedly it will protect the stuff inside. Even if the computers are turned off and not plugged in, the lightning will still get them if they are not in that chamber. So hence the hiding place. I have long contented myself with the fantasy that because we are never the tallest mast in the anchorage, we are safe. Mike says that is not true. I really have no idea, I got that thought from when people put lightning rods in their yards. If we do get struck, we are insured and our losses would be covered, although it would be months of hassle and we would have to stay here until we got things fixed. Plus I am sure they would raise our already substantial rates. Most people we know don't carry insurance due to the high rates, but we feel much better having it. Currently we are covered all the way to the Ecuador-Peruvian border, but we will have to change things soon, as we plan to sail to Peru this year. Thank goodness this can all be done via internet. I really can't imagine how difficult extended cruising was before the internet and ATMs.
In a few days, we will go back to Panama City and collect some mail, and especially 300 feet of new anchor chain. It is badly needed - our current chain is old and rusty. I am willing to bet it came with the boat when she was first built 30 odd years ago. We are also going to have the fumigator back as recommended. There are still a few roaches showing up, and the fumigator told me we needed to do it again in a month or so after the first time. We have plenty of bug spray, and have been liberal with its usage. As a result of our efforts, there are a fraction of what there were before. It makes everything better. I hate those things and I always will, I have no mercy. The only good roach is a dead roach.
So anyway, that will be it for now. Things are fine in general, but for awhile now I have been missing my family a lot and would really like to go for a visit. I miss my son, my siblings, and my stepmother. Again, thank goodness for the internet - I would be a lot more miserable if I couldn't at least hear from people I care about. But life is good here in the tropics, and I am really enjoying Panama. We had heard that people here are not friendly, but that is not true at all, at least in our experience. So Viva Panama! I am loving it here.
"It's a sad day when you find out that it's not accident or time or fortune, but just yourself that kept things from you." (Lillian Hellman)
The first island we anchored off was Isla Contadora. This one is not uninhabited - in fact, it is chock full of absolutely gorgeous houses. This is where Noriega used to hold meetings with international leaders, and the current administration may do so as well. There were some hotels, some restaurants (we had one really good meal ashore) and a few shops. There was a small tienda where we were able to top off our beer supply (always a priority).
After a few days at Contadora, we anchored between two islands - Isla Chapera and Isla Mogo Mogo (love that name). Mogo Mogo is where three episodes of "Survivor" was filmed, and right now they are filming the Turkish version thereof at the same location. We have seen pangas coming to and fro, carrying Turkish-looking people back and forth. Today a sad looking guy was ferried by - maybe he was voted off. I have only seen that show once - when a friend of my sister's was a contestant. She got voted off the first episode, so I refused to ever watch it again. (I am nothing if not loyal). Also, the contestants seem to be mean and treacherous. We went swimming yesterday off a gorgeous little beach with crystal clear water, and it was fantastic. I did get a bit sunburn, something I am really careful about normally, but it isn't too bad and I have aloe vera gel to help with it. Today it is overcast, so when we leave to go fishing in the dinghy, I will still be careful and wear a big T-shirt. Hopefully we will have fresh fish for dinner, but one never knows. The best way to ensure a catch is to take something out of the freezer and thaw it for dinner.
It is REALLY humid here in Panama. Way more so than either Mexico or El Salvador (which I did not think was possible). We have to oil down the wood somewhere in the cabin almost every single day to keep the growth of mold away. It isn't a gross black mold or something hazardous to ones health, but it looks like dust and would probably cause some sort of problem if allowed to grow unchecked. It rains almost every day, at least for a little while. I don't mind that - I love rain - but it gets kind of hot in the cabin when the hatches all have to be closed. But the decks sure are clean, and we have been drinking collected rainwater, which is an awesome way to live. Plus, in bed, my head is directly under a hatch, so the minute it starts to rain at night, I wake up immediately. This way we can leave everything open at night without worrying that things inside will get soaked before someone wakes up and shuts the hatches.
The only concern about things here is that there is a LOT of lightning. I mean a lot, almost every day even if it doesn't rain. We have heard that a substantial number of boats here were struck by lightning last season, and that is a matter for concern. If that happens, we lose all of our electronics. When the lightning gets bad, we take the computer and the hand held GPS and put them in the oven. There is a name for this - a something chamber - and supposedly it will protect the stuff inside. Even if the computers are turned off and not plugged in, the lightning will still get them if they are not in that chamber. So hence the hiding place. I have long contented myself with the fantasy that because we are never the tallest mast in the anchorage, we are safe. Mike says that is not true. I really have no idea, I got that thought from when people put lightning rods in their yards. If we do get struck, we are insured and our losses would be covered, although it would be months of hassle and we would have to stay here until we got things fixed. Plus I am sure they would raise our already substantial rates. Most people we know don't carry insurance due to the high rates, but we feel much better having it. Currently we are covered all the way to the Ecuador-Peruvian border, but we will have to change things soon, as we plan to sail to Peru this year. Thank goodness this can all be done via internet. I really can't imagine how difficult extended cruising was before the internet and ATMs.
In a few days, we will go back to Panama City and collect some mail, and especially 300 feet of new anchor chain. It is badly needed - our current chain is old and rusty. I am willing to bet it came with the boat when she was first built 30 odd years ago. We are also going to have the fumigator back as recommended. There are still a few roaches showing up, and the fumigator told me we needed to do it again in a month or so after the first time. We have plenty of bug spray, and have been liberal with its usage. As a result of our efforts, there are a fraction of what there were before. It makes everything better. I hate those things and I always will, I have no mercy. The only good roach is a dead roach.
So anyway, that will be it for now. Things are fine in general, but for awhile now I have been missing my family a lot and would really like to go for a visit. I miss my son, my siblings, and my stepmother. Again, thank goodness for the internet - I would be a lot more miserable if I couldn't at least hear from people I care about. But life is good here in the tropics, and I am really enjoying Panama. We had heard that people here are not friendly, but that is not true at all, at least in our experience. So Viva Panama! I am loving it here.
"It's a sad day when you find out that it's not accident or time or fortune, but just yourself that kept things from you." (Lillian Hellman)
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
The Haul Out
As I mentioned before, we had the boat hauled out, the bottom cleaned and painted, and some fiberglass repair work done. This is in addition to the fumigation.
This is what the travel lift that hauls us out looks like, along with the area they pull you out of.
Here is Magda Jean in the sling, on her way into the boat yard. I was really nervous, afraid they'd screw it up and drop her. But of course there were no problems. As you can see, the bottom is dirty.
Next, here is what happens when you end up going through a gill net. I can't remember if I wrote about it earlier, but we got tangled in a gill net off the coast here. Of course it about 4 am, it was still dark, and the water was really rough. Mike had to put on a snorkel and mask and go in - he got his foot tangled in the net and damn near got pulled under. He had to cut the net away, which he did, while losing a flipper in the process. When he surfaced, I truly have never seen him look so frightened. His eyes looked like the proverbial saucers under the glass in the mask. The boat was rocking up and down so hard that he could hardly get back in the boat. We were able to cut ourselves free, but some of the net remained wrapped around the prop. We were lucky the engine and prop still worked, although our speed was considerably diminished. Pretty scary when I actually saw it. It is also a good picture of the growth on the bottom.
Here is Magda Jean after her cleaning, but before being painted. There is hardly any bottom paint left, the purpose of which is to keep growth down. No wonder our bottom was so dirty after being cleaned only a month before. It has been three years since she was hauled out and painted. you can see all the different paint colors from over the years.
So now, as I write this, we have taken up residence at Isla Contadora, part of the Las Perlas islands in the Bay of Panama. It is gorgeous here - clear water and all. We left Panama City Sunday at about 8 am, and had dropped anchor here by 5 pm. We had to motor too much as there was no wind, but we got about three good hours of really nice sailing, so all was well.
The reason we made the decision to motor, instead of just drifting along and playing with the sails to eke out whatever forward motion we can was because this trip was only 30-35 miles. At 4 to 5 knots per hour, that is a seven hour trip at best. We never enter a strange anchorage at night, unless in an emergency. When you are on a long, multi-day sail, you can poke along as much as you want to, and until you are a day or so out, you don't have to worry about your timing. But when it is a day sail, you have to think about when you will get there, because if you end up there at night, you have to fool around until it gets light, just sailing pointlessly around. So that is why we motored - make sure we got in by dark.
Yesterday I did some general cleaning and what was the first in three bucketfuls of laundry. Luckily it did not rain yesterday until late last night (actually early this morning). Mike fixed our AIS system, and now the only thing remaining is for him to fix the watermaker. It is not a huge priority for us now, because we are collecting rainwater. So today we decided to take it easy and just kick back. We are considering taking the dinghy to the island and having dinner in a restaurant across from where we are anchored. Who knows? We don't have to make plans if we don't want to!
"And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." (Khalil Gibran)
This is what the travel lift that hauls us out looks like, along with the area they pull you out of.
Here is Magda Jean in the sling, on her way into the boat yard. I was really nervous, afraid they'd screw it up and drop her. But of course there were no problems. As you can see, the bottom is dirty.
Next, here is what happens when you end up going through a gill net. I can't remember if I wrote about it earlier, but we got tangled in a gill net off the coast here. Of course it about 4 am, it was still dark, and the water was really rough. Mike had to put on a snorkel and mask and go in - he got his foot tangled in the net and damn near got pulled under. He had to cut the net away, which he did, while losing a flipper in the process. When he surfaced, I truly have never seen him look so frightened. His eyes looked like the proverbial saucers under the glass in the mask. The boat was rocking up and down so hard that he could hardly get back in the boat. We were able to cut ourselves free, but some of the net remained wrapped around the prop. We were lucky the engine and prop still worked, although our speed was considerably diminished. Pretty scary when I actually saw it. It is also a good picture of the growth on the bottom.
Here is Magda Jean after her cleaning, but before being painted. There is hardly any bottom paint left, the purpose of which is to keep growth down. No wonder our bottom was so dirty after being cleaned only a month before. It has been three years since she was hauled out and painted. you can see all the different paint colors from over the years.
Now you see her in all her glory, just before going back in the water.
So now, as I write this, we have taken up residence at Isla Contadora, part of the Las Perlas islands in the Bay of Panama. It is gorgeous here - clear water and all. We left Panama City Sunday at about 8 am, and had dropped anchor here by 5 pm. We had to motor too much as there was no wind, but we got about three good hours of really nice sailing, so all was well.
The reason we made the decision to motor, instead of just drifting along and playing with the sails to eke out whatever forward motion we can was because this trip was only 30-35 miles. At 4 to 5 knots per hour, that is a seven hour trip at best. We never enter a strange anchorage at night, unless in an emergency. When you are on a long, multi-day sail, you can poke along as much as you want to, and until you are a day or so out, you don't have to worry about your timing. But when it is a day sail, you have to think about when you will get there, because if you end up there at night, you have to fool around until it gets light, just sailing pointlessly around. So that is why we motored - make sure we got in by dark.
Yesterday I did some general cleaning and what was the first in three bucketfuls of laundry. Luckily it did not rain yesterday until late last night (actually early this morning). Mike fixed our AIS system, and now the only thing remaining is for him to fix the watermaker. It is not a huge priority for us now, because we are collecting rainwater. So today we decided to take it easy and just kick back. We are considering taking the dinghy to the island and having dinner in a restaurant across from where we are anchored. Who knows? We don't have to make plans if we don't want to!
"And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." (Khalil Gibran)
Saturday, June 1, 2013
So Much To Be Done . . .
I know how long it has been - since mid April - since I last wrote a post here. The one in May doesn't count, I just wanted to let everyone know I wasn't dead.
Things have been busy. We hauled out the boat, got the bottom painted and some of the fiberglass repaired near the shaft for the propeller, and some other sundry repair things, nothing really serious. The biggest unexpected and not-planned-for thing was the shaft repair. When we bought the boat, the surveyor thought the area looked sort of strange, but couldn't find anything really wrong. When we looked at it after three years (it has been that long since we hauled out) it looked as though it was degrading. We opened it up (thereby ensuring SOME repair would be needed, and discovered an earlier repair had leaked just enough to cause the insides to degrade. So we had it fixed (for a reasonable price) and now it is at least as good as new, maybe even better. It was the sort of thing that might never have turned into a problem, but if it did, the result could have been catastrophic if it happened at the wrong place and/or the wrong time.
While we were hauled out, we made a decision. It was not easy, but we felt we had no choice. Because we had not heard from the geckos in two weeks, we decided to fumigate. And so we did - the guy came and sprayed the hell out of everything. Again, every single space on the boat was emptied, cleaned, and sprayed. Funny, we found no gecko carcasses at all, not a single trace of one. Since then, life is back to normal, without the hell of a roach infestation. We have to get sprayed again in a couple weeks, and in the meantime, we have decided to spray (with Baygon from the store) every week or so until they are no longer sighted. I really did not want to go this route, but I couldn't stand the sight of those horrid little monsters.
We also, while de-roaching, cleaned out all the lockers of tons of STUFF, stuff we were not using, and likely never would, as well as some out and out right trash we could not figure out why we even had on board. There is more space now, and things look really good here in the cabin. We have oiled the hell out of all the teak, and it is rich and glowing. Because we got rid of so much STUFF, we were able to rearrange all our storage and everything is in better order, and there is less visible clutter. The salon is neat tidy. We hung some embroidered panels from Guatemala on the walls, leaving room for another piece of art. (We have stuff from Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Belize displayed as this is written.) Although I am often fussing with the arrangement of the galley (aka the kitchen), it is still better than the last time I did it.
I was thinking the other day (after both of us bit our respective tongues and averted a stupid, but potentially yucky argument) how much Mike and I have learned since we left San Diego. Mike can fix pretty much anything on the boat unless a specialty tool is required. As we speak, the depth sounder is back on line, and we have all the stuff needed to fix the AIS and the watermaker (assuming the diagnoses were correct) on board and ready to go. We have a new solar panel on order (to replace the one that broke in El Salvador during a storm) as well as a hand held wind speed meter. We thought that might be a good idea for a number of reasons, many of them are the same reasons why we have a hand held GPS as well. You never know when the electric system could go down, and these items, along with a compass, will help one cope. Of course, we hope we never actually have to depend on them as primary instruments.
Mike and I are planning to leave Panama City tomorrow, and head out to the Perlas Islands for a couple of weeks, until our solar panel and other assorted items arrive. After that, we are going to head back to the islands for some more exploring, then south to South America. I am excited, really excited. I didn't really feel like a foreigner in Mexico, it has always been a really comfortable culture for me for a number of reasons, most of which have been already described here. Then I went to Central America. These countries are all very different from one another, and are very different than Mexico, despite the common language. I have been here for a year and could stay here for many more, and still not be satisfied, the same way as with Mexico. I am leaving just wanting more.
Anyway, things have not been dull here in the anchorage, either. We are well into the rainy season here, which means it will rain everyday at least once. And the anchorage in which we have chosen to reside is the one not recommended in the rainy season - we are exposed to southerly swells that make it untenable at times. We already left here once because of the swells, but the other anchorage has its drawbacks as well. The bottom is slimy, slippery and generally gross. Those characteristics require that you lay down a lot more anchor chain than you normally would. And this is because boats can drag anchor when the wind blows hard.
Although we are in the rolly anchorage and not the slimy one, yesterday Mike and two other boats had to rescue a boat that had dragged anchor and was but 20-30 yards from the rocks. The seas were rough, the wind was up, and the owner was not on board and could not be reached. A lock was picked, the key located, the engine activated, anchor pulled up, and the boat was moved to a safer location and the anchor hopefully set. The boat's captain had a proper anchor and plenty of chain, so it was a good lesson that this can happen even when you do everything right. The funny thing was we knew this boat. When we returned from going through the canal, we did not have our dinghy waiting at the dock. We had stowed it and gotten a ride from our boat to our friends' boat. We had planned to call someone on the radio, or more likely, just hang around the dinghy dock and beg a ride. This man - a real character, and we so enjoyed him - took us back. It turned out it was his boat Mike, Ron, and Joan saved.
So this is it for now. I have some before and after pictures of Magda Jean pre-and-post haul out, but that is for another post. Au Revoir! (Lots of French boats here!)
"It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done." (Vincent van Gogh)
Things have been busy. We hauled out the boat, got the bottom painted and some of the fiberglass repaired near the shaft for the propeller, and some other sundry repair things, nothing really serious. The biggest unexpected and not-planned-for thing was the shaft repair. When we bought the boat, the surveyor thought the area looked sort of strange, but couldn't find anything really wrong. When we looked at it after three years (it has been that long since we hauled out) it looked as though it was degrading. We opened it up (thereby ensuring SOME repair would be needed, and discovered an earlier repair had leaked just enough to cause the insides to degrade. So we had it fixed (for a reasonable price) and now it is at least as good as new, maybe even better. It was the sort of thing that might never have turned into a problem, but if it did, the result could have been catastrophic if it happened at the wrong place and/or the wrong time.
While we were hauled out, we made a decision. It was not easy, but we felt we had no choice. Because we had not heard from the geckos in two weeks, we decided to fumigate. And so we did - the guy came and sprayed the hell out of everything. Again, every single space on the boat was emptied, cleaned, and sprayed. Funny, we found no gecko carcasses at all, not a single trace of one. Since then, life is back to normal, without the hell of a roach infestation. We have to get sprayed again in a couple weeks, and in the meantime, we have decided to spray (with Baygon from the store) every week or so until they are no longer sighted. I really did not want to go this route, but I couldn't stand the sight of those horrid little monsters.
We also, while de-roaching, cleaned out all the lockers of tons of STUFF, stuff we were not using, and likely never would, as well as some out and out right trash we could not figure out why we even had on board. There is more space now, and things look really good here in the cabin. We have oiled the hell out of all the teak, and it is rich and glowing. Because we got rid of so much STUFF, we were able to rearrange all our storage and everything is in better order, and there is less visible clutter. The salon is neat tidy. We hung some embroidered panels from Guatemala on the walls, leaving room for another piece of art. (We have stuff from Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Belize displayed as this is written.) Although I am often fussing with the arrangement of the galley (aka the kitchen), it is still better than the last time I did it.
I was thinking the other day (after both of us bit our respective tongues and averted a stupid, but potentially yucky argument) how much Mike and I have learned since we left San Diego. Mike can fix pretty much anything on the boat unless a specialty tool is required. As we speak, the depth sounder is back on line, and we have all the stuff needed to fix the AIS and the watermaker (assuming the diagnoses were correct) on board and ready to go. We have a new solar panel on order (to replace the one that broke in El Salvador during a storm) as well as a hand held wind speed meter. We thought that might be a good idea for a number of reasons, many of them are the same reasons why we have a hand held GPS as well. You never know when the electric system could go down, and these items, along with a compass, will help one cope. Of course, we hope we never actually have to depend on them as primary instruments.
Mike and I are planning to leave Panama City tomorrow, and head out to the Perlas Islands for a couple of weeks, until our solar panel and other assorted items arrive. After that, we are going to head back to the islands for some more exploring, then south to South America. I am excited, really excited. I didn't really feel like a foreigner in Mexico, it has always been a really comfortable culture for me for a number of reasons, most of which have been already described here. Then I went to Central America. These countries are all very different from one another, and are very different than Mexico, despite the common language. I have been here for a year and could stay here for many more, and still not be satisfied, the same way as with Mexico. I am leaving just wanting more.
This is the Panama City skyline that we saw from one of the anchorages we stayed in. It is new Panama, which is surpassing Miami as the business capital of Latin America
This is old Panama City. The buildings are made of cement and wood. There is tenement after tenement, mixed in with some gorgeous historic neighborhoods.
Although it is hard to see clearly, the grey ball in the fork of the tree is a two toed sloth. They are nocturnal, so you almost always see them sleeping. They have three toes on their back feet, but only two on their front feet.
This egret comes and visits us every morning. As you can see, we are allowed to come pretty close.
Besides sailboats (all the fishing boats and the mega yachts go to the marinas), these are some of our neighbors here in Panama City. I don't think either of these two go anywhere.
The guys on the fishing boats are always friendly.
While the boat was hauled out, Mike and I took advantage of the situation and went to Isla Taboga, a short ferry ride from Panama City. This is the view from our hotel room of this beautiful island.
Anyway, things have not been dull here in the anchorage, either. We are well into the rainy season here, which means it will rain everyday at least once. And the anchorage in which we have chosen to reside is the one not recommended in the rainy season - we are exposed to southerly swells that make it untenable at times. We already left here once because of the swells, but the other anchorage has its drawbacks as well. The bottom is slimy, slippery and generally gross. Those characteristics require that you lay down a lot more anchor chain than you normally would. And this is because boats can drag anchor when the wind blows hard.
Although we are in the rolly anchorage and not the slimy one, yesterday Mike and two other boats had to rescue a boat that had dragged anchor and was but 20-30 yards from the rocks. The seas were rough, the wind was up, and the owner was not on board and could not be reached. A lock was picked, the key located, the engine activated, anchor pulled up, and the boat was moved to a safer location and the anchor hopefully set. The boat's captain had a proper anchor and plenty of chain, so it was a good lesson that this can happen even when you do everything right. The funny thing was we knew this boat. When we returned from going through the canal, we did not have our dinghy waiting at the dock. We had stowed it and gotten a ride from our boat to our friends' boat. We had planned to call someone on the radio, or more likely, just hang around the dinghy dock and beg a ride. This man - a real character, and we so enjoyed him - took us back. It turned out it was his boat Mike, Ron, and Joan saved.
So this is it for now. I have some before and after pictures of Magda Jean pre-and-post haul out, but that is for another post. Au Revoir! (Lots of French boats here!)
"It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done." (Vincent van Gogh)
Friday, May 17, 2013
Apologies!
The boat has been hauled out and we have been real busy - plus my internet has been sketchy. I will be back soon, I promise!
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