Our next destination was Panama, where we planned to spend the upcoming Carribean hurricane season. Being south of 11 degrees N latitude, Panama is generally considered to be a safe area, free from dangerous hurricane activity. To reach Panama from Guanaja, we would have to sail eastward for 208 nautical miles (nm) to round the corner of mainland Honduras before heading south towards Panama. We were not looking forward to sailing straight into the winds and waves for such a long distance, especially considering the fact that our oversized genoa with its high clew could not be sheeted flat enough to allow us to make decent progress to windward.
We decided to wait for a cold front to pass through (the same northerlies we were hit by in Isla Mujeres). Unfortunately, towards the end of spring these fronts rarely make it as far south as the Bay Islands. As luck would have it, on April 29th a weak cold front approached the Bay Islands causing the winds to shift ever so slightly northwards. With 10 knots of wind and calm seas, we set sail at a close reach on a port tack, headed directly on course.
Cayo Vivorillo, a small uninhabited island owned by Honduras, lay directly on our route, 150 nm from Guanaja. We had planned to anchor here as a resting spot on our journey. However, we reached this small cay shortly after dark on our second day at sea. Not wanting to make an approach at night, or to wait out at sea all night and approach in the day, we decided to continue on our way. Furthermore, the wind was still coming lightly from the NE, allowing us favorable conditions to continue. Because the ocean had been so calm, we were well rested and enjoying the sailing.
Hey this is Squeak. Let me give my point of view. This passage was great! None of that loud obnoxious vibrating engine. And every few hours these humans, who I have wrapped around my little claw, came down to snuggle with me. After I had had my fill of snuggles and love, I´d allow them to sleep so they´d be rested to take watch while the other one would come down for more snuggles and love. Not only that, but since I don´t feel like going up to my food bowl while we are underway, I got them to bring me fresh food and water every few hours.
20nm past Cayo Vivorillo with only 30nm to go before we could safely turn southward, the wind switched to the east. With the wind being directly at our nose and being so light, it took us the next 24 hours to tack back and forth and to go the remaining 30 nm. Even though progress was slow, we could not complain about the calm seas. As we continued eastward, the winds gradually shifted southward.
Late in the day on May 1st, we finally were able to turn to the south, having rounded the cape of Honduras (appropriately named by Christopher Columbus, ¨Cabo Gracias a Dios¨ or ¨Thank God Cape¨) and her miles of east lying coral reefs and shoals. Unfortunately as the wind had been shifting more and more southward, by the time we turned, the wind was still at our nose. While this made for slow progress, the upside is that at this point of sail, Chandrika completely steers herself, so we were able to relax and to read while on watch. From this point onwards, the winds were light and variable. Occassionally, we would experience light 5 to 10 knot easterly trade winds, but as we worked our was further and further south, the winds had almost disappeared.
Hey its me again. While these guys bore you with all the details of the winds and seas, let me tell you the highlight of the trip. While I was stretched out relaxing on the starboard settee, a bird flew into the cabin. This bird thought he was hot stuff, flying in the companionway right over my head and then out the port side hatch, so I decided to let him go, build up his confidence a little. A couple minutes later when I was doing a little yoga on the settee, he came back in through the companionway. He was no match for me. I barely even had to move. I just reached out a paw and took him down. This bird was no fun. He didn´t even squirm. He just played dead. Birds aren´t all they are cracked up to be. I think I´ll stick with roaches.
During the night of May 3rd, we passed Isla Providencia and Isla San Andres. These two islands are owned by Columbia and make a good stopping point along the route from Honduras to Panama. We decided not to make a stop since we had heard that checking in is very costly, we were still well rested and enjoying the passage and we had reached them at night and would have had to wait until morning to make our approach.
The conditions from this point southward were light and sometimes nonexistent winds punctuated by brief and occassionally heavy squalls. Fortunately we had a favorable one knot current to carry us on our way. For the most part the seas were flat. However, neighboring squalls would kick up localized swells. Since we were outside the winds of the squalls, there would be no wind to fill the sails, and the waves would cause the sails to slap and to flutter, a nerve wracking condition that made us worry about the wear and tear on the sails and rigging. We would take down the sails, then watch and wait for the squall to approach. Once the squall reached us, we would pull out the appropriate canvas and resume sailing. During one exhilerating squall, we were able to sail at a speed of 8 knots, but it only lasted 20 minutes. Then we were back to sitting and waiting, again with no wind. Becalmed again.
At noon on May 7th, we were only 14 miles from our destination, Bocas del Toro, Panama. Because we still had almost no wind, we calculated that if we were to continue sailing, we would reach land in the dark. At this point, the seas had also risen and we were experiencing 8 foot seas with no wind. In this region of Panama, it is not uncommon for the seas to be high, as the swell come from distand Cartagena, Columbia, with little to no wind. High seas accompanied by light winds is one of the more uncomfortable conditions for a small sailing vessel. There is not enough wind to fill the sails, and the swells cause the sails and the boom to bang back and forth. After having been able to sail the entire distance from Honduras (about 600 nm) without having to motor, we decided to use the engine the last 14 miles, guaranteeing our approach into the harbor in daylight. At 3:40pm on May 7th, we dropped anchor in the harbor beside Bocas del Toro, Panama, after having spent 9 days and 8 nights at sea.
May 2008
