Voyage of Traveler / Blog

June 24, 2010
Traveler Baja Bash Update
377 miles south of San Diego

The good news is we are making way. The wind has eased to 14 knots, and the waves are down to 3 to 4 feet.  Smooth sailing with just 377 miles to go to San Diego–it seems like such a short distance to us now.  We are all healthy.  Plenty of food and enough water. I just set the ship’s clock ahead to Pacific Time, having now crossed all 24 of the world’s time zones!

The bad news is we are having new electrical problems.  This is on top of the engine problem (won’t start) we developed two days ago. The autopilot is acting up. It has worked flawlessly since we bought it in Singapore (Jan. ‘08).  But now it won’t hold course.  So we are hand steering the rest of the way, headed nonstop for San Diego.  We expect to arrive
San Diego sometime around Sunday afternoon.

Hand steering means a watch schedule of two crew on watch for four hours, with the other crew off watch for two hours.  Four hours on, two off.  Crew fatigue will be a growing problem, and hand steering at night is more difficult–and we are a bit out of practice.  It has been a long time since the Transpac Race, where we hand steered for 18 days.

Hasta luego,
Michael
with Barbara and Brian

Traveler Postcard–The Baja Bash!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
26-05 N, 114-39 W
90 miles south of Turtle Bay
415 miles SSE of San Diego
326 miles NW of Cabo San Lucas

Cruisers for years have been calling the wild ride up the coast from Cabo San Lucas to San Diego the Baja Bash, and for good reason.  It is almost always bad weather: heavy winds and big waves out of the NNW, right on the bow, and set back by a strong adverse current running down the coast. Plus there are unlit, offshore reefs to worry about. You may remember the schooner “Goodwill” wrecked on the Sacramento reef with all hands lost.

The three things you must have for the Baja Bash are:

(1) A favorable weather report. “Favorable” is a relative term.  Here it means winds under 25 knots on the bow.  You know it is going to be snotty.  You just don’t want to go when it is predicted to be REALLY SNOTTY. We started out, departing Cabo San Lucas on June 20, with an unusually favorable forecast: wind was under 10 knots and variable in direction. And we had those conditions for the first night, motoring along in calm seas.  We said to each other how we lucked out on the weather, and joked that this was going to be the “Baja Glass.”  But forecasts are only right some of the time.  And we are now, on Day Four, experiencing the typical NW’ly winds of 20 knots, right on the bow, with 4 to 6 foot waves.  It is a bouncy, wet and cold ride, to be sure, with a wave breaking over the bow every three to five minutes, washing over the deck and smashing into the dodger. Night and day.  That keeps you awake!  I’m glad I had the dodger repaired and all of the seams re-stitched in La Paz–it’s really being tested.

(2) Lots of fuel.  This means not only a full fuel tank, but also carrying extra jerry jugs and doing fuel transfers from the jerrys to your main tank along the way.  There is only one half-way decent place to stop for more fuel along the entire 730 mile coastline from Cabo to Ensenada, and that is at Turtle Bay, 420 miles up from Cabo.  We had plenty of fuel, we thought:  117 gallons of diesel in the main tank and our normal four jerry jugs (each five gallons), plus I bought in La Paz an extra 50 liter jerry jug, for a total of 150 gallons. Normally, at a cruising speed of 7.5 knots, our burn rate is one gallon an hour. Allowing for adverse current and rough sea conditions, I figured we would make good speed over ground of five knots.  So with this much fuel we should have made Turtle Bay easily, with a fat reserve.  But we did not.  For some unknown reason, our burn rate was an extraordinarily high 4.5 gallons per hour.  We ran out of fuel 170 miles south of Turtle Bay. I added 15 gallons from the jerry jugs to the main tank, leaving one of the five gal. jerrys for reserve later, if needed.  And we started sailing the rest of the way to Turtle Bay.  Hey, no problemo.  After all, this is a sailboat! Then the wind got very light, so I kicked on the engine, or tried to.  Which leads me to the essential third leg of the stool…

(3) A strong engine.  Our 110 hp Yanmar has been running very well lately, after overcoming a long series of problems over the past two years (this new engine was installed in French Polynesia in June 2008.)  I was really counting on her to perform when she was needed the most: for the challenging Baja Bash.  You can only imagine how my heart sank when I turned the key to start the engine and in wouldn’t start.  I got out the tool box and tried my best to fix it.  But although I know now much more about the working (and non-working) mechanics of a marine diesel engine, I am still a novice, and this problem was over my head.  I think it is a faulty stater motor, perhaps a stuck solenoid inside the starter–something that is beyond my abilities.  So we are sailing to San Diego!  After all, this is a sailboat! (Didn’t I just say that?)

But here is what that means.  We must tack out, sailing westerly on a starboard tack, well offshore, then when due south of Guadeloupe Island we will tack back to sail north.  Compared to motoring a straight course for San Diego, this beating to windward extends the number of miles sailed and the days at sea significantly.  And it is rough and surprisingly cold out here.  We are really getting tossed around, making it difficult to sleep, so crew exhaustion is a growing concern.  But we have plenty of food and water, and the forecast is for NW winds of 15 to 20 knots all the way to the US border.

At 0400 last night, after the moon set so it was pitch dark, and as the winds increased to 26 apparent, I had to crawl from the cockpit up to the mast to put another reef in the main in rough seas.  The deck was lit, amazingly, with phosphorescence as wave after wave washed around me.

What a dramatic finish for this incredible voyage.  But it is a little more drama than I wanted.

On the bright side, to help me as crew I not only have Brian, who is now an experienced blue water sailor, quite comfortable in these conditions and capable to stand watches, night and day, by himself.  But I also have my girlfriend Barbara, bless her heart, back on Traveler.  She knew how rough the Baja Bash can be and volunteered for this leg anyway.  She just finished her school year and could have been playing volleyball in Manhattan Beach.  But instead she flew into Los Cabos and is here with me, and for that I am most grateful.  And so pleased that we will be able to finish this voyage around the world together!

Michael
with Barbara and Brian
“Team Traveler”

,,,__/),,,

P.S. We are still on schedule, in spite of the above-mentioned set backs, for the Traveler Homecoming and Crew Reunion on Saturday, July 3 at 2 pm at the Balboa Yacht Club, and y’all are invited.

TRAVELER HOMECOMING AND CREW REUNION
Saturday, July 3 at 2:00 pm
Balboa Yacht Club
1801 Bayside Drive
Corona del Mar, CA 92625
(in Newport Beach)
949-673-3515

In celebration of Traveler completing a three-year circumnavigation, Michael Lawler and Barbara Burdick invite you to attend the Traveler Homecoming and Crew Reunion Party to be held on Saturday, July 3, 2010, at 2:00 pm at the Balboa Yacht Club in Newport Beach.  You are welcome to bring your family and guests, too.

If you have a boat, you may want to meet Traveler out past the harbor entrance at the Bell Bouy at 1:40 to form a short boat parade to lead the way for Traveler into Newport Harbor and to the BYC. (Monitor VHF Ch. 69.)

Traveler is currently (June 14) in La Paz getting her bottom painted and new cockpit cushions sewn, and Michael and his son, Brian, are getting the boat ready for the final leg. On June 19 Barbara flies down to Los Cabos to re-join the Traveler crew for the Baja Bash up the coast from Cabo San Lucas to Newport Beach.

After visiting 61 countries on six continents and sailing over 30,000 miles and around the world and through the Suez and Panama Canals over the past three years, Traveler now has only 800 miles to go to complete her circumnavigation.

You are encouraged to forward this email to a friend.  The more the merrier.

If you have questions, ideas or want to help with the event, please call Scott Schubert at 949-230-1416 or the Balboa Yacht Club at 949-673-3515.  For directions to the BYC, please go to balboayachtclub.com.

Traveler Postcard from Puerto Vallarta, Isla Marieta,
Isla Isabela, Mazatlan, Bahia de Los Muertos and La Paz
May 25 to June 7, 2010

Hola,

Bahia Banderas (Bay of Flags), May 25.  After taking a pounding rounding Cabo Corrientes, it was smooth sailing on a broad reach with following seas into Bahia Banderas, which is the largest bay in Mexico and on the same latitude as Maui. The bay’s opening, from Cabo Corrientes north to Punta Mita, is 20 miles across, and 15 miles deep, with Puerto Vallarta at the eastern head of the bay.  On our way to PV, we stopped briefly at the charming, secluded cove of Yelapa. I wished we could have spent more time there, but my nephew Ryan was flying into PV in a couple of hours and we promised to meet him at the airport.  On the way to the marina, we hugged the shoreline to do some sightseeing from the water: Roca los Arcos, a dozen statues and a crowd of people strolling along the malecon, and the many high rise hotels along the beach.

Puerto Vallarta.  Brian and I took a berth at the upscale, huge Marina Vallarta for $1/foot/night.  We were docked next to the mega-yacht “Invader,” owned by Carlos Slim, the wealthiest man in the world. We quickly cabbed it to the nearby airport just in time to meet Ryan’s flight. He was just starting his summer break after his sophomore year at Loyola Marymount, so I told him that his next nine days on Traveler would be like a Cruising Summer Camp.  An avid saltwater fisherman, Ryan brought with him a couple of his own rods and reels and several lures, to add to our gear, in hopes of catching a billfish–and this is one of the best places in the world for that.  I rented a car (only $25/day with insurance and unlimited mileage!) and we toured the town.  PV is Mexico’s most popular Pacific resort, and we could see why.  Cobblestoned streets in a charming old town, with fun bars and restaurants, and beautiful hillside homes, all along a gorgeous bay.  For centuries, explorers and pirates (including Drake) stopped here to provision and relax–or pillage and plunder.  Through the 1950s, PV was just a sleepy, unknown hideaway.  Then, beginning in 1964 with the release of John Huston’s popular “Night of the Iguana” and with stars like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton living here, a boom in tourism changed everything. Now PV has 300,000 residents and 2 million visitors a year. The first night we found a nice beachfront restaurant serving an All-You-Can-Eat buffet.  We grabbed a table to watch a fabulous sunset and saw the illusive Green Flash!  Ryan, Brian and I stuffed ourselves then walked it off along the malecon.  The next day we drove an hour up the coast to spend a relaxing day at a surf village called Sayulita, which was great.  Except along the way I got stopped by a traffic cop for running a red light, he said.  I was sure I had not, and Brian (sitting in the front seat) was also sure I had not.  But the cop said he was going to write me a ticket, the fine would be 1200 pesos ($100 US) and he was going to hold my drivers license at the police station to make sure I paid the fine before leaving PV. I begged for a warning instead.  He said that I could, if I preferred, just pay him the 1200 pesos and be on my way.  Ah, the crooked cop, shaking down a tourist.  Now it was just a matter of negotiating the price.  After a minute of haggling, we settled on 600 pesos ($50 US), I paid the bribe and we were on the road again.  Later I read in a newspaper about dirty cops stopping tourists, claiming some traffic violation and soliciting bribes.  The article went on to say, unfortunately, the practice is widespread throughout Mexico’s resort towns.

Isla Marieta and Isla Isabela.  On our way up the coast to Mazatlan, we stopped at two offshore islands: first at Isla Marieta, just 15 miles west of PV, and then, Isla Isabela, 100 miles north from there.  Both islands are remote, uninhabited bird sanctuaries.  Marieta, at 20-41N, 105-36W, is a National Park and was a striking, delightful contrast from the developed marinas and high rise hotels of PV.  We snorkeled (fabulous!) and kayaked (one of the best rocky shorelines for kayaking I found the entire voyage!)  We also went ashore and hiked around the island, careful to step around dozens of blue-footed boobies nesting in the tall grass.  We also had fun exploring the islands’s natural limestone caves.  Marieta is an extraordinary natural wonder, comparable to the Galapagos Islands.  Back onboard Traveler, we had an early dinner then motor-sailed through the night to Isla Isabela, at 21-50N, 105-52W.  It is another stunningly beautiful island, with thousands of nesting birds and dramatic rocks, and once again great for snorkeling and kayaking.  Both Jacques Cousteau and National Geographic have done hour-long TV specials about this island calling it a “wonderland of unspoiled nature.”

Mazatlan.  We arrived here on a quiet Sunday morning, May 30, and took a berth at the El Cid Hotel and Marina, a five star resort.  My brother Drew (Ryan’s dad) owns Pacific Coast Sportfishing Magazine and arranged for us to go out on a charter boat, one of his advertisers, for the day to find billfish.  Unfortunately, they weren’t biting and we got skunked. But we later had a fun time walking around the old town and enjoyed a nice dinner at El Shrimp Bucket.  Because the marina is owned by the hotel, included in the price for the berth were hotel privileges, so we spent some quality time just hanging around the pool, with its waterfalls, covered grotto and water slide, munching on nachos and sipping cervezas.

Sea of Cortez.  Brian, Ryan and I departed Mazatlan on June 2 to cross the Sea of Cortez (also correctly called the Gulf of California), headed for La Paz.  The wind angle, oddly out of the south, and wind speed provided some great sailing.  This was the first time Ryan had been sailing on a boat this size in blue water, out of sight of land; as a bonus, it was also an overnight sail on a warm night under a full moon.  The conditions were perfect.  On the down side, we trolled the whole way across the gulf, but still nada.

Bahia de Los Muertos.  We made landfall on Baja California Sur between the East Cape and La Paz at the Bahia de Los Muertos (Bay of the Dead) at 23-59N, 109-49W. A few years ago a developer bought the entire bay, put in a golf course resort and home sites, and changed the name to Bahia de Suenos (Bay of Dreams).  But the old name is hard to change.  Cortes gave the bay that name in 1539 when he landed here to find several graves with odd (to him) headstones.  A local fisherman told Cortez that many years earlier a Chinese ship anchored here, and many of the crew died and were buried ashore.  We dinghied ashore to a restaurant called “1539″ for nachos and cervezas, met up with some other yachties anchored here, and watched the Lakers beat the Celtics in Game One of the NBA Finals.

La Paz.  The next morning we sailed north with, again, a rare southerly breeze, past Isla Cerralvo (whose name was recently changed to Isla Cousteau.) Ryan caught two bonitas along the way, keeping one and releasing the other.  We stopped for lunch at the uninhabited Isla Espiritu Santo, a National Park.  While Brian napped on Traveler, Ryan and I went ashore.  But the bugs were bitting, big time, so we didn’t stay long.  What a gorgeous place, though. Another natural wonder.  We weighed anchor and sailed into Bahia La Paz, towing the dinghy.  The late afternoon sun gave some great lighting and I realized I had very few photos, if any, of Traveler under sail.  So I hopped into the dinghy and got some great shots of Traveler underway, with Baja’s desert-like mountains in the background.  We anchored in La Paz Harbor and had a Captain’s Dinner for Ryan to celebrate his last night with us.  For an appetizer, we ate fresh ceviche made with scallops, lime juice, jalapeno peppers and coconut milk.  Then for the main course we had surf and turf with the fish Ryan caught and fillet mignon, with a side of ravioli.  We finished off the meal with a shot of Kahlua.  Salud!

Getting Close To Home.  After dropping Ryan off at the bus station, as Brian and I dinghied back out to Traveler, we noticed a new boat anchored next to us.  It not only had a US flag (very common down here) but also a home port of Newport Beach.  Then we saw it also had a Balboa Yacht Club burgee!  We went aboard “Escapade,” a Regal 42, and visited with Jim and Anita Collings from the BYC and their friend Debbie St. Louis, catching up on what’s new at the club.  The next night we all got together again to go out for a fabulous dinner at the Buffalo BBQ, one of La Paz’s most popular restaurants.

It is now June 7, and just 12 more days until Barbara re-joins Traveler and, together with Brian, we begin the final passage of the voyage, up the Baja Coast. After sailing more than 30,000 miles, we now have less than 800 miles to go.

We are still planning to complete the circumnavigation and celebrate with a Traveler Homecoming and Crew Reunion on Saturday, July 3 at 2pm at the BYC, and you all are invited.

Hasta temprano,
Michael

Traveler Postcard From Zihautanejo, Ixtapa,
Barra de Navidad and Rounding Cabo Correntes
May 18 to 25

Hola,

Zihautanejo and Ixtapa.  These two beach resort towns are next to each other, just five miles apart, but they’re as different as two Mexican towns can be.  Zihuatanejo has been around for hundreds of years.  Sir Frances Drake and other pirates used to lay in wait here and raid the Spanish galleons as they sailed down the coast to Acapulco.  It was then just an isolated, sleepy fishing village, and for centuries it stayed that way, until the road was built in the 1960s connecting it to Acapulco.  The Mexican government helped create neighboring Ixtapa through eminent domain by converting a large coconut plantation to beachfront hotel sites.  Government contractors drained swamps, built roads, installed utilities, and then added two golf courses and a marina, beginning in the early 1980s.  We anchored in Zihau (as the locals call it) for three nights, and loved it.  Fun, laid back, friendly, picturesque, good food, comfortable anchorage–everything us cruising yachties are looking for.  However, we enjoyed a little too much Happy Hour at a beachfront restaurant, with the table and our bare feet in the sand, watching the sunset.  With their two for the price of one drink special, we went for the margaritas. You know the saying: “One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor!”  The next day, nursing our hangovers, we cabbed it over the hill to Ixtapa where we walked the beach looking at the high rise hotels on one side and the waves on the other, until we found a hotel that looked like a good place to hang out for the day.  As long as we were buying food and drinks, the staff allowed us to used the pool and enjoy other hotel guest privileges.  The waves were up, and we had a fun time body surfing.  Scott had to fly home from here to go back to Berkeley for summer school, but Brian and I had one more night in Zihau.  In the center of town, right on the waterfront, is an outdoor stage where a popular Mexican band was filming a music video.  There were a couple of hundred screaming teenaged girls (think the Beatles in their early days), especially when the lead singer ripped off his shirt.  It was quite a show.  After the video taping, the band was mobbed by their fans as they made their way offstage to a waiting van.  After the show, Brian met up with some locals, played with them in a drum circle for awhile, and then stayed ashore that night at their casa, located next to Cameron Diaz’s gorgeous waterfront home.

Barra de Navidad.  The next morning, Brian hitched a ride back out to Traveler in a fishing ponga, and we departed at 0900.  We motored all day and through the night 190 miles up the coast to Barra de Navidad, arriving the next day, May 22, at 1300 hours. After buying fuel and hosing the boat down at the fuel dock, I asked the rate if we were to stay in the new, upscale marina.  They wanted $140/night(!), so we elected to anchor in the lagoon for free and stayed here two nights.  It is just a couple of weeks after the start of the slow season here now.  But already the marina was only a third full, and all of them long-term, with no yachts in transit. The five star Grand Bay Hotel was nearly empty, with no one on their golf course ($250 green fees!), and we were the only boat anchored in the lagoon. The town is small, rustic and touristy.  It is located on a low-lying peninsula of sand, and the occasional storm has taken its toll, with all the buildings looking a tad weather-beaten and run down. We had an okay dinner at a beachfront restaurant (we were the only guests there all night).  But, while the food was marginal, they fixed a great drink called a Michelada.  It is like a Bloody Mary, but with more spices, lime juice, and mixed with beer instead of vodka. Historically, this is where the Spanish galleons first set sail from to cross the Pacific to trade with the Philippines.  But soon the pirates learned of this port and found it easy to raid.  So, after being New Spain’s main port on the Pacific coast for 40 years, the Spanish moved the fleet down the coast to Acapulco.  The wind blows hard here in Barra in the afternoons, so we left early, at 0300 hours, in calm conditions to make as much way up the coast as we could before the northwesterlies picked up. Our next port of call is Puerto Vallarta, but we must first get around the dreaded Cabo Correntes.

Cabo Correntes.  This is much like Point Conception is to California.  The wind blows hard out of the NW, and the seas are always rough, usually very rough.  As we were motoring into it, the apparent wind slowly increased from 15 to 20, then quickly to 25 knots.  Waves were breaking over the bow and rolling back to the dodger, hitting it with such force that we thought the old stitching on the forward-facing plastic windows would rip out, leaving us unprotected in the cockpit.  Then, as we approached the cape, the wind built to 30, with sustained gusts at 35 knots, and the seas grew with it.  Time to seek shelter.  Fortunately, there is a well-protected anchorage at Punta Ipala, just 14 miles south of the cape, and we ducked in there and dropped the hook for the night.  After watching the anchor for a half hour or so to make sure we were not dragging, Brian and I swam 150 yards to shore to a small cafe.  We bought a bucket of Coronas and kicked back with three local guys in their mid-20s, one of whom spoke some English.  He said the wind blows very strongly here all the time, even in the early morning hours.  Great.  At 0600 the next morning, still dark, we decided to go for it.  The apparent wind was 20 knots and right on the bow, with the occasional wave breaking over the bow, but not too bad.  This is as good as it gets, and we were just happy it wasn’t any worse.  Our normal cruising speed while motoring is 7 to 7.5 knots.  But there is an adverse current here at the cape setting down the coast.  So even though we were able to motor at 6 knots through the water in these conditions, our speed over the bottom, at 2000 rpm, was just 5 knots.  But I was not complaining.  I was just very pleased when we successfully made it around Cabo Correntes and into the much calmer waters of Bahia de Banderas, headed for Puerto Vallarta.

Hasta luego,
Miguelito

Huatulco y Acapulco, Mexico
May 8-17, 2010

Hola,

Wind storm.  The notorious Golfo de Tehuantepec is an area on the Pacific coast of southern Mexico known for extreme northerly wind due to a constant pressure differential in the weather between the Caribbean and Pacific.  It really kicked our butts on the two day passage from Guatemala to Huatulco, Mexico.  The average wind conditions here is a Force 6 (25 knots), with violent gales (Force 8 or 9, 40+ knots) common.  May, however, is usually the calmest month of the year, and the forecast wind was for only 14 to 16 knots.  We experienced, however, 22 to 28 knots, with steep confused seas and breaking 8 to 10 foot waves.  The rough sea conditions is a product of swells, current and wind waves coming from different directions and colliding.  We had at least 50 waves break over Traveler, pounding our dodger so hard I thought it would rip off, for over a nine hour period from 9:00 pm until 6:00 am the next morning. It was not the highest wind we have experienced on this voyage, but it was definitely some of the roughest seas. Neither of us got any sleep, and we not only wore our PFDs, but were teathered in the whole time.  I thought the boat might get rolled over on one of the waves. But we made it, exhausted.  The North Wind 47 was designed and built for conditions like this, and Traveler handled it well.

Huatulco.  We were very happy to make port and went straight to the marina where we took a berth for two nights.  It gave us a chance to clean the boat, dry everything out, do laundry, and catch up on our sleep.  On our same dock, we met Chris Kaman, the 7 ft. tall center for the LA Clippers for the past seven years.  He, his crew of two, and his two friends, were on his boat, a Hatteras 65, “Sasquatch.”  Chris is an avid sport fisherman and didn’t seem to mind at all that other NBA teams were still shooting hoops in the playoffs because he was doing what he loves best: fishing in Mexico.  We all went out to dinner one night, and Chris promised us comped player’s tickets to a Clippers game when we get back–Brian and I are now big Clippers fans.  The next day, my other son, Scott (Brian’s fraternal twin), joined us here for nine days.  We moved the boat just a half mile up the coast to Huatulco’s main bay, Santa Cruz (much more scenic), where we anchored for two more nights.

The End Is Near.  Mexico marks my 61st and last foreign country on my three-year circumnavigation.  It is also the longest shoreline of any country I have visited, and we plan on spending the next five to six weeks working our way up Mexico’s gorgeous and fun Pacific coast.  We also plan a Homecoming and Traveler Crew Reunion at the Balboa Yacht Club on Saturday, July 3 at 2pm, so mark your calendars, and we hope to see you there for our arrival home.

Acapulco.  After an overnight passage, we arrived Acapulco and took a mooring at the prestigious (and expensive!) Club de Yates de Acapulco.  In addition to paying a fee to be on the mooring, we had to pay the yacht club $35/night to use their dinghy dock.  But that gave us privileges, so we could buy drinks at the bar and use the club’s pool and showers.  The first night we went out to dinner at the famous, wacky Carlos & Charlie’s (now called Acapulco Charlie’s) in the center of town on a Saturday night, and then walked around after dinner.  It was quite the scene.  Bungy jumping.  Night clubs.  Motorcycles racing and doing wheelies in the streets.  Huge crowds of people.  I was tired, but Brian and Scott went to a club, Paradise, where it was all you could drink for 200 pesos (about $16), with dancing and a wet t-shirt contest that turned into a raucous strip tease (all professional girls).  Brian and Scott got back to the boat at 0630, just as the sun was coming up, then they slept in until 2pm.  That night we went to see the cliff divers, which is a great show, and I’m sure many of you have seen it before.  But the street scene around the cliff diving was equally amazing: more motorcycle dare devils racing up and down the street and doing wheelies and tricks, all very close to the huge crowd of people–very wild and dangerous.  There is no way this would be allowed in the US.  But the cops here just turned a blind eye and allowed it to go on, for hours! We enjoyed cheap (5 for $2) tacos al carbon y cervezas from a small sidewalk cafe that night.

Next stop, Zihautanejo.

Salud!
Michael
with Brian and Scott

Hi Jim,
Just got a call from M. His easy motor through the Gulf of Tehuanapec turned into one horrendous night of huge seas breaking on the boat non-stop and throwing her on her side all night long. Winds were 30, which M said was no big deal, just the size of the waves. This gulf is known for its conditions, as the winds build across Texas and Mexico and then funnel through a split  in the mountains. Seas build within minutes. Many boats have been lost in this crossing.
The reason I am writing to you is that the laptop took a dive off the nav desk. The net book has a virus. So, he is without communication except via Iridium phone.
If you can forward this email to everyone to not expect communication through sail or email, thanks.
See you at the 66.
bb

Traveler Postcard From Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador
April 28 to May 4, 2010

Hola y buenos dia,

Brian and I traveled fairly quickly through these three countries, spending just two nights in each, so I’ll cover them together in one Postcard.

In Nicaragua, we arrived on April 28 at the Puesta del Sol Marina and Hotel after a terrifying overnight passage at sea.  We had lightning strikes all around us, many within a half mile of our boat, for hours.  And rain.  Lots of rain.  So many boats are hit by lightning down here, especially this time of year.  If hit, the lightning takes out all the electronics and electrical appliances, including your radar, GPS, stereo, running lights, laptop computer–everything.  But somehow we skated through harm’s way, untouched.  I spent much time with Robert, who owns the marina and the surrounding 500 acres, about his plans to develop the rest of his property.  He wants to put in a cashew orchard, a runway for connecting flights to Managua, a nine hole golf course and a second hotel.  I suggested a surf camp because he owns a mile of beachfront property, including the point, Aserradores, which is one of the top five surf spots in Nicaragua (according to Lonely Planet.)  I drove into Chinandega, the nearest city (about 45 minutes away), with Robert to do some banking and buy provisions for the boat.  The check in and check out procedures here were the most pleasant of any country I have visited.  The Immigration officer, Customs officer and Port Captain came together to the marina and the paper work was done at the bar, taking only about ten minutes, while having una cerveza frio, and the total fees are a very reasonable $20.  Why can’t it be this easy in other countries?

Our next stop, after a 50 mile daysail, was the normally sleepy fishing village of Amapala on the Isla El Tigre (pop. 2400) in Honduras.  I say normally because it is that way 362 days out of the year.  The other three, the place goes wild with the Fiesta del Santa Cruz, and by coincidence that’s when we were there.  We did not get much sleep here because the street dance with amplified music played on until 0400, followed by fireworks until dawn.  We met a local guide who spoke English (the only person on the entire island who was bilingual) and he led us on an exhausting hike up to the top of El Tigre, an extinct volcano a half mile high.  A light rain kept things cooler than normal, which was welcomed, but limited our view at the top.  Then after our descent we had a fish lunch with the locals at their favorite beach, Playa Grande, in the rain.  Here, we went exploring in La Cueva del Pirata, a deep sea cave where, legend has it, Sir Frances Drake buried treasure.  We looked, but found nothing, except we woke up about 100 bats which swooped over our heads in the darkness.  Drake careened his Golden Hind here on Playa Grande to make repairs while he was on his circumnavigation.  The island is named after him.  The Spanish called him El Tigre del Mar because of his piracy on the Spanish galleons.  Good timing because I just finished reading his interesting biography, “Sir Frances Drake, The Queen’s Pirate.”  We were not just the only Americans, we were the only tourists here, and they rarely get cruising sailboats of any flag to stop here.  Not sure why.  We thought it was a charming place.

After a couple of sleepless nights in Amapala, we motor-sailed another 50 miles up the coast to Barillas Marina, the only marina on El Salvador’s Pacific coast.  We did little here except swim in their pool, watch ESPN and CNN, eat some nice meals in their restaurant and drink several beers in the bar.  We also read several old sailing magazines left by other yachties and had a load of laundry done for us by the staff.  I never left the marina.  For a couple of hours one day, Brian went for a mountain bike ride with a local guide on a trail through the jungle to see some howler monkeys, which he said was cool.  It felt good just to relax.  No boat repairs to worry about.  The nearest town or sights to see are several hours away, and we just didn’t feel up to it.  So we just chilled at the luxurious (by Central American standards) marina for a couple of days.  The marina is located in the Bahia Jiquilisco, and getting in the entrance was tricky with migrating shoals and waves breaking on the bars all around us.  But the marina sent out a guide in a ponga for us to follow, which I would say was essential, given the conditions.  On the way out, after the guide left us to return to the marina and when we were about two miles off shore, the water shallowed to 27 feet deep, which is normally too deep for waves to form, let alone break.  But a large set of waves came in from a distant storm and one of them broke just off our bow.  It was scary.  The wave crashed over Traveler’s bow and washed back over the deck to the dodger, but did no damage.  Fortunately, all of our hatches were dogged tight.

Obviously, there is so much more to see and do in these three countries, but we have to keep moving to stay on schedule.  We have a weather window and must be north of Cabo San Lucas by mid-June because of the hurricane season, and I’d like to finish on July 3.  If you look at the miles we have to go (2,100) and divide by the number of days we have to do it (60), we must move the boat up the coast an average of 35 miles a day.  If we decide to take a lay over and see a place for day, then we have to do 70 miles the next day to stay on our schedule.  Every day for the next two months.  That’s moving.

Viviendo el Sueno,
Miguelito
y Brian

Traveler Postcard From Costa Rica
April 2010

Hola,

Passage from Panama City to Golfito, Costa Rica.
What a nightmare.  It started out okay, just Brian and me, cruising along.  We knew the anchor windlass had corrosion and needed repair, but everything else seemed to be working. And then the engine started to sound bad.
We have had so many problems with the engine.  A few months ago my sister said to me, “Don’t you wish you could just go for three months or so with no engine problems?”  I replied, “Three months?  I’d be happy with just three consecutive days with no problems!”
I opened the engine hatch to see what was the problem and water was spraying all over everything, including me.  Also, there was a ton of smoke coming from the engine compartment when I opened the door.  I immediately shut the engine down.  It turns out there were two, unrelated problems.  The first was relatively minor: a broken hose clamp.  But it was for a hose that was not easily reached to make the change (I have several spare hose clamps, all sizes.)  The turbo, air filter and the exhaust manifold would first need to be removed just to reach the hose clamp, making it about a two hour job.
The other problem was an exhaust leak, again.  This is the third time we have had this same problem.  One of the three bolts connecting the exhaust elbow to the turbo sheered off from weight and vibration of the elbow allowing raw exhaust to circulate in the engine compartment, with fine, gritty, oily particles.  This soot was then sucked up by the air intake and put back into the engine.  That makes a big problem even worse.  The air cleaner, turbo, exhaust elbow and the inner cooler were all filthy dirty–inside and out–and needed to be removed, cleaned and reinstalled. This was much more than I could do by myself while at sea.  I needed a mechanic and a workshop.  This means sailing the rest of the way in very light wind.  A two day trip turned into four days at sea, bobbing around.
In calm conditions, we lowered the dinghy from the davits and put the outboard engine on it, then side-tied the dinghy to tow Traveler, at 3 knots.  This worked well, but we didn’t have enough gasoline to get us all the way to Golfito.  We stopped the dinghy side tow with a gallon of gas in reserve to help us get the last few miles into the port.  I managed, with great effort, to replace the hose clamp, a filthy job because everything I touched in the engine room was covered in oily soot.  We decided to run the engine with the exhaust leak, at low speed, just to get into the port.  We didn’t want to spend another night bobbing around, drifting in the currents, with no wind.  We finally made it into Golfito, just before dark.  The cold cervezas at the bar of the Banana Bay Marina tasted muy delicioso.

Golfito: Engine repairs and sport fishing.
We were in Golfito for eight days, much of it spent just waiting our turn for the only mechanic to start work on Traveler.
While waiting, we met and made friends with Dan Murphy from Texas on his sportfishing boat (I think it was a 50ft. Hatteras) called the “Last Stall” (he also raises horses.)  We also met his captain, John Teal and crew, Willy.  They invited Brian and me to go out fishing with them.  After about an hour, I caught a nice mahi mahi, then nothing else was caught for more than two hours.  I felt badly because I wanted everyone to catch something, and we were really hopping for a bill fish.  Then, “Hook up!”  It was Brian’s turn, and after a 20 minute fight he reeled in a 110 lbs. beautiful sailfish!  We were using barbless circle hooks and so we were able to cleanly release the fish, which is great.  Then, within just a few minutes after that “Hook up!” again, and it was my turn.  Another sailfish!  We all saw it jump and dance across the water.  What a thrill.  After a fight of about 20 minutes, I brought the fish to the boat and we successfully released it (after getting a couple of photos.)  Mine was a 120 pounder.  Next, big Willy brought in and released a 140 pound sailfish.  (The weights were estimated by the captain.)  We also caught two more mahi mahis.  What a great day.  Since it was the first sailfish for both Brian and me, on the way back to the marina we were pushed overboard, as is the tradition. The swim felt great.
We finally got all the engine repairs done, including the anchor windlass repaired, then filled the fuel tank and water tanks, and departed for Quepos in the middle of Costa Rica’s Pacific coast.

Quepos and Manuel Antonio.
We arrived at the new Marina Pez Vela (Spanish for sailfish) at dawn.  The marina has been under construction for 10(!) years, including planning and permits, and it is so close to being finished and ready for business that they decided to allow us to tie up.  We were the first cruising sailboat to stay at the new marina, the biggest in Central America.  I had breakfast with Harold, the owner, and Glen, the sales manager.  Harold told me all about what it is like to build a first class, American-style marina in Costa Rica–not easy!
That night we had dinner at El Avion in the upscale beach resort town of Manuel Antonio. The restaurant’s bar is constructed in the body of a 1954 Fairchild C-123 cargo plane, affectionately known as “Ollie’s Folly” (after Col. Oliver North.) The plane was used by the CIA in the 80s for the Nicaraguan Contras, then it was abandoned at the airport in San Jose after the scandal broke the news.
We stopped here primarily to see Costa Rica’s most popular National Park: Manuel Antonio, named after a banana freighter that sank there.  We hired a private guide who had a telescope on a tripod to help see the wildlife, and he was great at spotting the animals.  We saw a few three-toed tree sloths, an amazing animal that moves very slowly and sleeps 20 hours a day–just like Brian.  We also saw a toucan, iguanas, howler monkeys and white-faced campuchion monkeys.
After the park tour, we met up with Dave and Evelyn, a couple of ex-pats from the South Bay, who are good friends of Bill and Marsha Horsfall (our guests on the Panama Canal) and acquaintances of Barbara.  We visited with them for a few hours at their spectacular oceanfront home, much of that time sitting in the Jacuzzi with howler monkeys overhead, drinking beers and taking turns telling stories about each of our travels around the world.

Papagayo and Playa de Coco.
After a couple of nights at Quepos, we motor-sailed up the coast to Papagayo and anchored off the marina after taking on fuel.  We met and had dinner with Brian and Teri from Newport Beach (friends of my good friend Dick Higbie) who, coincidentally, were there on their trawler named Traveller.
We then motored a few miles to Playa de Coco, a port of entry, to clear out.  The process was unnecessarily complicated and time consuming, and a huge run around.  It took a total of five hours over two days!  While here we went on an ATV guided tour of the jungle and ranch land, which was great fun.  Among the many animals we saw was a boa constrictor in a small creek we crossed. We also took a zip-line canopy tour, which was a blast.
During the night a storm came in with heavy rain, so we decided to stay ashore in a hotel.  The next morning as we were departing, a couple of local fisherman motored out in a 20 ft. ponga to tell me that Traveler had dragged and then swung on its anchor during the storm and smashed into his bigger fishing boat that was on a mooring a couple of hundred feet away from us.   Traveler broke a couple of windows on the fishing boat.  The fisherman asked for $100 in compensation, which I thought was very reasonable and quickly paid, with apologies.  There was some minor damage to Traveler from the collision, really more of a fender-bender.

Check out the photos of our wonderful visit to Costa Rica on the website: voyageoftraveler.com.

The next Postcard will be from Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador.

Viviendo el sueno,
Michael with Brian

April 8 and 9
Panama Canal

Hola,
What a contrast between our two days transiting the Panama Canal, and what an exciting and wonderful experience.  On board Traveler were Barbara and her two longtime friends and our guests, Marsha and Bill Horsfall (he is 87 and this was one of his Bucket List things to do), Brian, two professional line handlers and a Panama Canal Authority Advisor (same as a pilot for ships, but if the boat is under 65 ft. they’re called advisors and get less pay.)

Day One.  On the Atlantic side, at the Shelter Bay Marina, there was some confusion about the meeting time and place for our line handlers to come to the boat.  They were supposed to meet us at the marina, but an hour after the appointed time and when they were very late, I checked my cell phone and saw I missed a call.  It was from our agent to say the meeting place was changed at the last minute.  So now we were behind schedule, and if you are late for your transit appointment the Panama Canal Authority fines you $1,500!  With the two line handlers on board along with our ten rented truck tires, wrapped in plastic so the top sides don’t get scuffed, hung in place as added fenders (very much needed!), we got to the meeting place for the advisor just with 15 minutes to spare, only to find out he was running late (no fine if he is late), and so our appointment to transit was pushed back from 4 pm to 5:30 pm.  Hurry up and wait.

To transit the Panama Canal from the Atlantic to the Pacific, which is generally a north to south direction, four miles south of Colon there are three consecutive up-locks called the Gatun Locks.  After that you motor across a huge lake, Lake Gatun, for about 30 miles, passing ships going the other direction along the way.  Then there is one down-lock, called the Pedro Miguel Lock, followed by the relatively small Pedro Miguel Lake.  Finally, there are two consecutive down-locks called the Miraflores Locks, after which you are at sea level on the Pacific side.  Each lock lifts or lowers about 25 ft., so the large lake in the middle is 75 ft. above sea level.  If you get a very early start, like 5 or 6 am, you can make it all the way through in one day during daylight.  Because of our late afternoon starting time, ours was a two-day transit.

As we were about to enter the first lock, the PC Authority instructed our advisor via radio, along with the advisors on two other yacht, to raft together, with the biggest boat, a 46 ft. Bertram sportfishing boat, in the center. While the line handlers on the Bertram (obviously not pros and drinking beers) were rigging spring lines between the boats, they screwed it up and took 15 minutes to do a job that should have taken just three or four minutes.  During that time, the wind pushed us slowly into the path of a ship that was underway at about 4 knots and moving into final position in the lock.  The ship was unable to turn or stop.  And because we were side tied to the Bertram we could do nothing to get Traveler out of the way of the ship. The ship blasted its very loud horn five times, which is the signal for, essentially, “I can do nothing to avoid the impending collision between my ship and your small boat, and so you must either move out of the way immediately or brace for collision.”  You can only imagine the stress I was having.  It was a very close call, but the guys on the Bertram got their act together (with instructional help in Spanish from our pro line handlers) and managed to move Traveler, the small yacht on the other side and themselves out of the ship’s path.  After that, the guys in the Bertram were needlessly heavy on their throttles, both forward and reverse, nearly causing the deck cleats on their boat to rip out. I found out later the owner of the Bertram was not on board and this was a delivery crew.  Even though we were side tied and basically being towed by the Bertram, to ease the strain on the lines, I was at the helm with the advisor giving near constant instructions: “Forward just a bit, that’s good, now reverse a little. Stop. Turn to port a little, that’s good.”  He was also giving instructions in English (to Brian and Barbara) and Spanish to our line handlers: “Take up the slack on the port side stern.  Keep the tension steady and even on both sides.”  After an hour and a half or so, we made it through the third lock well after sunset.  As planned, we took a nearby mooring on Lake Gatun for the night.

Day Two: The next morning, a new advisor was ferried out to our boat at 0600 and we were underway before the sun came up.  After a light rain shower of 15 minutes, we had a beautiful day.  Shipping traffic was relatively light that day.  We passed, as I recall, about ten ships going the other way as we crossed the lake and went through the Gaillard Cut, named after the chief engineer responsible for the most challenging part of the canal’s construction.

A little history note: In the late 1800s the French tried to build a canal across the isthmus of Panama.  But they ran into construction difficulties, workers were dropping like flies from illness and then they ran out of money.  A few years later, with the clandestine help of the US government, the State of Panama declared their independence from Colombia to form their own country.  The first formal act of the new Panamanian Government was to sign a treaty with the US giving us the canal zone and the right to construct, own and operate the canal.  From 1908 to 1914, under the leadership of President Teddy Roosevelt, the US built the Panama Canal, at the same time both separating two continents and joining two oceans.  But it was not easy.  Altogether, ten thousand people died building the canal, most of them while laboring in the Gaillard Cut through the mountain range.  Many of the deaths were from industrial accidents, but most were from malaria or yellow fever.  One of the French laborers who was hospitalized with yellow fever and nearly died was Paul Gauguin, then in his early 20s. He recovered from his illness and went on to become one of the world’s greatest artists. I have one of his paintings on Traveler, “Tahitian Menu,” painted near the end of his life when he was in Papeete.

When we went down the three locks on the Pacific side, beginning about noon, we had fabulous conditions (daylight, no wind, no rain, good visibility) and to our surprise, the entire lock to ourselves!  Our advisor, who has been doing this for 20 years, said he has never been on a boat that had a lock to itself, or even heard of one.  He joked that we must know el presidente. It was actually just a scheduling fluke, in our favor.

After completing the transit, it felt strange to be back in the Pacific Ocean and once again on the west coast of North America.  Like finishing a good book, for my three-year circumnavigation you might say I’ve started the final chapter.  If you look at a world map, like in the back of a Lonely Planet travel guide, heck, I only have about two more inches to go and I’m back home!

I really wish Barbara could finish the voyage with me.  But she had to fly back to work.  So it is just Brian and me for the final push up the coast of Central America and Mexico over the next ten weeks.

I’m starting to make some plans for a homecoming party at the Balboa Yacht Club for July 3.

Our next Postcard will be from Costa Rica.  Until then,

Living the Dream,
Michael
with Brian