Shelter Bay

We took two days to sail from San Blas to the Shelter Bay Marina on the Caribbean side of the canal, with a stop at Isla Linton. It's hot here, in the low 90's every day. Some unusual weather systems have turned the wind around with light winds out of the west and south rather than the trades out of the NE for the last week so the trade winds are not helping cool the marina. We had 15-25kts from the south and spent the last two hours of the trip yesterday beating into the wind - very unusual. Lots and lots of ships here, anchored inside and outside the breakwater. We were constantly dodging anchored ships as wells as ships going to/from the canal. It reminded us of sailing in the bay on a busy day.

We're now looking into how to get our autopilot and refrigeration problems solved before we head to the South Pacific. More details soon!

87 + 78 + 86 = Really hot!

This morning the air temperature is 87F, the humidity is 78%, the water temperature is 86F and there is essentially no wind. That adds up to really hot and humid. We swim most afternoons but the water has huge temperature differences in just a few yards. In some places it's almost too hot to swim, like a very warm bath, and then a couple of yards away it actually feels cold, which means it might be 80F. But an hour or two of snorkeling does cool us off for awhile. Yesterday Fay got a nice shot of this guy looking up from his hiding spot inside some coral.

Looking out the back door

After checking into the San Blas region (aka Kuna Yala) of Panama, we moved to an anchorage at Chichime. We spent two days there catching up on some immediate repairs, swimming and unwinding from our passage from Bonaire. This was the view out the companionway and through the cockpit for two days. These islands were typical of the others we've seen in San Blas. White sand beaches rising 4-5 feet above sea level, covered with coconut palms and populated by a few Kuna families in huts built of palm fronds. This region is pretty much right out of the travel brochures!

Two pair of Paines

Pair-of-PainesIf we were playing yacht designer poker it would be a reasonable hand. Two nights before we departed Bonaire, another Chuck Paine design, Home Free, was on the mooring next to us. I first met Home Free, a Morris 51, in 2005 at the Morris yard where she was undergoing repairs. Her owner, Bob Trenary, and I traded email for several years before we finally met at the Newport Shipyard in 2008 while both waiting to depart for the Caribbean. We later shared an anchorage in the BVIs in 2009 and our delayed departure from Bonaire brought us together again in 2010.
Then, two nights ago we came on deck to swim across the anchorage and thought the boat that had just anchored next to us looked very familiar. We looked closer and she was another Chuck Paine design, a Kanter 62. Now owned by a New Zealand couple, they had purchased Sequel II in Florida and were on their way back to New Zealand.
So our passage from Bonaire to San Blas was bookended by two other Chuck Paine designs!

San Blas

We're in the San Blas islands which are the territory of the Kuna indians. Cruisers discovered the idyllic islands (more pics later) which are a few feet of white sand above the water, covered with palm trees, out of the hurricane zone and populated by these gentle people. The Kuna's in turn discovered the cruisers and have built a good business selling them mola's, brightly colored embroidery, as well as bracelets and a few other items. As soon as a new boat is anchored, one or two Kuna dugout canoes (ulu's) are on either side of the boat offering their goods. The Kuna are patient and tenacious sellers.

Fay bought several mola's from this woman this morning. This picture has not been "dialed up" in PhotoShop, these are the real colors - BRIGHT!

San Blas

We arrived in San Blas this afternoon, motoring the last 10 hrs as there was very little wind, then even less. We're currently anchored right off the airport on Isla Porvenir. The airport is a very narrow and short strip of bad asphalt slightly shorter than the entire island.

Tomorrow we'll clear in, then move to another anchorage. But tonight, it's a couple of beers, some pinot noir, a nice lasagne, and a lot of sleep!

24 hours

A cruising day can be very rich and full with beauty, drama, tragedy and a full range of human emotions.

Tuesday through Thursday was light air with 10-14kts of breeze, occasionally dropping to 6-8 which forced us to motor for a few hours. We got pretty complacent with the light breezes, excited when it would surge to 16kts and we would have a little more speed.

Our 24 hrs begins on Thursday afternoon when we decided to take advantage of the benign conditions and try our spinnaker furler system. Some suggestions had been made in Antigua after our testing there and we wanted to try them out. It was our first "solo", just Fay and I raising the big sail. We made the changes we discussed earlier and soon had it flying. We immediately picked up 1.5-2kts of speed and the boat felt much more stable. But after about 20minutes we noticed a problem with the furler which we thought was from our inexperience. We furled the sail (the problems with spinnakers are usually getting them down), but noticed another problem. We sorted those out, unfurled again about half way and then realized that the changes we had agreed to in Antigua (adding a snap shackle to the tack of the furler) were the cause of our new problems. So we furled it back up, sorted it out, and put it away for another day.

We had a load of wash going so Fay pinned the laundry up on the lifelines and we coasted along with our 12-14kt breeze.

Late that afternoon the forecast was for the breeze to freshen to 16-20kts in the evening and through the next morning so we looked forward to a little more speed. Just before Fay went off watch at 7pm we reefed the main just to keep things nice and mellow. It stayed light and in my 8pm log entry I wrote that we were "underpowered". But the breeze built as expected and we were soon moving right along. Then the seas built rapidly and we were very uncomfortable with a big cross swell that rolled us pretty wildly every 5 minutes or so.

I was awakened at 1:30am during Fay's watch when it was really rocking. We had 25-28kts, big seas rolling us like crazy, a lightning storm overtaking us from windward, and a ship which would not respond to our radio calls, had the dimmest lights I'd ever seen on a big ship, and was calculated to cross us with just 500yds to spare, way too close. The direction and force of the wind was sort of locking us into a "close call" course so we rolled up the jib and double reefed the main, allowing us to alter course enough to clear the ship by 2 miles.

But the big seas continued to roll us wildly and we sailed for some time with the double reef and a little bit of jib to balance the boat. Fay got some sleep and I was on watch until she came back at 6am.

I slept about an hour, then was awakened about 7:30am when New Morning took a hard turn and luffed up into the wind. I stuck my head up in the companionway and Fay told me the autopilot had quit working! Deja vu, this is what happened during our passage from Bermuda to the BVI's in 2008! I was barely awake but put on my PFD/harness and tether and confirmed she was correct, no autopilot. Plus some strange clunking noises, but the steering seemed ok.

Unlike our Bermuda/BVI passage, the seas were too rough to do anything immediately. Even though we were both exhausted, the only real choice was to hand steer until things calmed down. I did a quick weather check and concluded that the breeze should lighten up by early afternoon, and would be even lighter if we turned towards the Columbian coast. Columbia was not our destination so we split the difference and headed towards the coast, but not quite directly. Over the next four hours we took turns steering for 30 minutes at a time. In the 30 minutes when we weren't steering, we took turns hauling things out of the aft cockpit locker, cleaning off the hydraulic fluid that was all over everything (one indication that something was very wrong), placing the stuff in plastic bags and stowing it in the forward cabin. Finally I was able to remove the panel in front of the steering.

I expected to see something bad, but I was really surprised to see a hydraulic ram, still attached to the quadrant, still mounted to a huge aluminum base, and dragging hydraulic hoses, swinging back and forth every time we turned the wheel. We don't know exactly what failed, but it looks like the port cylinder mount pulled out of the boat which is very strange. In due time I was able to remove the ram from the quadrant, and attach the spare ram which is mounted on the starboard side. All of this while we still had pretty good sized seas and 20-23kts of wind. This is kind of like bolting something to the steering wheel while you're friend is driving down a twisty mountain road with no brakes. My fingers were holding onto the cylinder fitting and trying to slide it onto the peg on the quadrant, while Fay was trying to coordinate her turns with me, but not lose control of the boat. Then once the fitting was on the peg, I had to slide on a large washer and a retaining clip. All of this at arms length, under the quadrant and in constant motion threatening to claim one of my fingers. But we got it done.

Then it took another hour to juggle the wiring to the autopilot (the switch installed earlier was not wired correctly), and then convince the autopilot to use the new ram without going through all of it's setup procedures. We skipped the "learning" procedure and went straight to "on the job training". By 1:30pm the autopilot was again steering and we were exhausted.

I made a couple of phone calls and sent some emails, then Fay let me go to sleep. When I woke up at 4:30, things were as mellow as could be. New Morning was cranking out 8-9kts in 18-20kts of breeze, sliding down much more friendly waves. The sky was blue and clear and the wind had shifted to allow us to steer directly for San Blas. And after all the light wind and too much wind and autopilot problems and course changes for ships, our ETA was Saturday morning, four days for 700 miles, a very reasonable 175m/day.

And we've received a response from the people who installed the autopilot and are working to coordinate logistics for the repair in Panama.

24 hours...

Light and steady

We departed Bonaire yesterday in light air and had to motor on and off forthe first five hours. Once we were totally clear of Bonaire we got a light but steady breeze and we've been sailing ever since. The wind is steady at 12-16kts, but it's from directly behind us. To make the ride a little more comfortable we're sailing on a broad reach and then gybing every few hours, essentially zig zagging down the course. The seas are generally small, but it woldn't be the Caribbean if there wasn't a cross swell to slap us around periodically.

Yesterday we saw some frenzied fish and bird activity with the water churning and birds circling, but we were never able to determine exactly what was going on. We saw a few large fish (three feet plus) jump and they might have been tuna. We're not sure if they were the predator or the prey.

Last night was very peaceful. It cools off when the sun goes down which is very welcome. The breeze was steady and the water reasonably calm. There was no moon and a slight haze dimmed the stars so there wasn't much to see. It was difficult to make out the horizon when we would scan it with the binoculars looking for fishing boats and other traffic that might not show up on the radar or AIS.

Sailiing at night is kind of like driving down a straight freeway at night with the headlights off, or in thick fog when you're 99.9% sure that you're the only car on the road. As long as you hold the wheel straight, everything is fine, you're just rushing through the darkness with a slight sense of foreboding. Behind us there was a sparkling trail of phosphorescence as the keel and rudder excited the plankton. There were bright distinct pieces of plankton, some trapped on the swim platform, and then a dull glow deeper in the water trailing behind the boat.

Without much to look at, we both listened to NPR on our iPod shuffles. It's a little incongruous listening to the News Hour or Fresh Air, but it helps pass the time on the night watch.

The forecast if for continued light air for the next couple of days, mixed with some rain and possibly a good strong breeze for12hrs or so. Then the final day into San Blas is looking pretty light and we may have to motor. It's not yet clear if we'll make it in on Saturday afternoon, or have to wait offshore and make landfall on Sunday morning.

Departing for Panama

After three months in Bonaire we're departing for Panama this morning. I think I've talked at length about the fish and the wonderland under the water. But to balance things out, here is a shot to show that there is also life above the waterline. Eventually I'll post a lot of photos of Bonaire. Departing soon.

It's a wet, small world

Fay returned from visiting family last week and we've been diving this week. Thus far the diving off the back of the boat has been the best. We literally put on the tanks and jump off the back of the boat, swimming not more than about 100yds from the boat, and diving to 40'-60' on wall that drops quickly to 300'! So that gets the wet started.

Then, after three months of dry weather which produced a very dirty boat constantly covered with red dust, it started raining. We had good solid rain on and off for two days. Everything was thoroughly rinsed which was really welcome. Unfortunately the leaking chain plate and forward hatch were not as welcome.

Then last night, small world. We went out to dinner at Capriccio, the only Italian restaurant in Bonaire, and the only restaurant we've enjoyed in years that also has a Wine Spectator award winning wine list. The wine list, virtually all Italian wines, was 20-30 pages of small type. But the small world story was figuring out over the course of the evening that I had previously enjoyed Capriccio's chef's cooking in 1988 at Vista Panoramica in Ivrea, Italy! Ivrea is a fairly obscure town about 50 miles north of Turin is probably best known as the headquarters of Italian computer maker Olivetti, which was had brought me there in 1988. From Ivrea to Kralendijk, Bonaire, Dutch Antilles an unlikely move. But fortunate for us as we had an excellent dinner!