Golfito Costa Rica

NEXT MORNING, GOLFITO AREA, AT ANCHOR

Sailing at night has a special thrill to it. It's like galloping full tilt through a strange forest blindfolded. You have to depend on your horse's instincts and your own. On the boat you are depending on the instruments and your own instincts. My instincts generally balk at such activity. Still it has to be done as parking lots for boats are seldom available when you need them. Now we were navigating at night with no navigational lights and with us having no prior knowledge of the area, the weather to expect or much in the way of written accounts of what to expect.

I have sailed into anchorages at night before. It was always a nail biting experience and always into anchorages that I'd known by day previously. This depending on a GPS to tell us where we were with no corroborating navigational lights or obvious landmarks was giving me the willies.

After dark the time came when the GPS told us it was time to turn up on the final ten miles of our selected spot to anchor, one we'd chosen from our chart that looked like it was both not too deep, somewhat protected, and with a good bottom for holding the anchor in case it got wild. There was a lot of lightning around us and we expected that we might get hit with a squall somewhere along the route.

Because of light winds now we were still motorsailing. The motor stopped. After running for 10 hours or so without a hiccup it stopped. It was dark,the winds were light and fluky and the frigging engine stopped. I would have liked to talk to the choreographer of that scenario. Why change the rules at the exact worst time possible? Anyway...

We changed the fuel filter and that entailed taking my quarteberth completely apart. It was like working in a sauna to overhaul your engine. With much huffing and puffing and contortion and imprecation the chore was completed. The engine started and ran... for a while. Throughout the rest of this operation it would run ok for a while and then lose power and pretend it was going to stop.

We're a sailboat so a balky engine shouldn't matter, but under the circumstances we really needed it because the winds were fast becoming only theoretical.

Finally we were within a couple of miles of our target anchorage. There was no wind but the lightning made it seem that we would be hit by a squall shortly so we double reefed the main and furled the jib leaving us enough sail to maneuver in high winds should they hit. High winds and a squall are not really what I would choose for going into a strange shallow anchorage near an unknown shore, but there it was.

SUNRISE

Anti-climactically we had no difficulty anchoring and we dropped the hook exactly where we planned to do so and did it in pitch darkness. The night was quiet and no squall appeared. The sun has come up and it looks like it will be a hot one. After breakfast we will motor (I hope) across this bay and into Golfito where we'll have a lobster lunch (Phil's obsession).

We motored into Golfito over a glassy 7 miles. Entering the mouth of the bay we saw thick jungle on either side of the channel with occasional open patches that may have been cultivated. Here and there were little bungalows and along the waterfront, buildings with green or red painted metal roofs surrounded by palms.

Entering the anchorage you first see the pier that used to be employed loading bananas. There's a small haulout facility and a couple of marinas.

The protocol is to anchor off the pier which is near the Port Captain's office, fly a yellow flag which is called a "quarantine flag", call the port captain on the radio and await a visit to do the paperwork to officially enter the country.

Of course we busted our ass to get here as fast as possible so we arrived on Sunday. We anchored and called for the captain. The functionary who was in the office informed us that the Captain was not there and that he didn't know when he would arrive. I explained that we'd like to check in even if it was Sunday and understood that an additional charge was customary, hoping the incentive would help to locate the captain. It doesn't look like it will, so that just means we may be here in the anchorage until tomorrow. I've fixed a couple of problems we had with the rigging, have washed down the deck and cleaned and reorganized the refrigerator. It's warm but there's a breeze blowing through the anchorage and it isn't that bad on the boat.

Mark, now recovered from his nausea, was not at all happy with the delay. He spent most of the day complaining about the heat and how slow things happen and how this isn't what he expected. This surprised both Phil and I since we were really enjoying the heat and the delay. I for one was delighted to have someone to categorize the various miseries so I wouldn't miss any of them.

Actually, it's not bad here with the main annoyance being someone on the beach working on their boat and using a grinder hour after hour.

Little ponga style boats with sunshades rigged shuttle back and forth from what I'll call the "Village side" to the other side of the bay which looks like some sort of resort. I'm assuming there's a restaurant or some similar attraction there.

We had one other glitch occur today, we found our fresh water tank empty. It should have been at least half full so I'm assuming that there's a leak or some other mechanism that caused it.

I really don't think a cruising boat should have as its only water delivery system an electrical pump. That makes it too easy to use too much water and if left on can quickly empty a water tank. Much better is a foot operated pump that just delivers a small measured dose of water at a time.

Also missing from this boat is a saltwater foot pump that allows you to wash dishes at the sink in salt water thus conserving a huge amount of fresh water. I would even be in favor of an electric saltwater pump to use in the shower. It would allow you to take a long saltwater shower in relative privacy and then you could switch over to fresh as a final rinse.

Another idea... Changing the filter for the engine was a pretty inconvenient job and one that is especially difficult underway. It would not be too difficult to mount three filters in parallel and install a simple valve arrangement to switch from one to another. That way the job of changing filters could be done 1/3 as often and the engine stalling at an inconvenient time could quickly be handled.

Called Jana again this morning. Damn but is that satellite phone slick. It was as easy to call her from this secluded anchorage as if I'd been in my office at home and picked up the phone. A 7 minute call costs about ten bucks but a lot can be covered in that time. A month of such calls would be about $300 which is less than we have paid for computer connections when traveling in the past.

One of the most impressive things on this trip so far, though, is the GPS. It makes navigating almost absurdly easy. To be able to navigate into a small anchorage at night with basically zero visibility and then to anchor exactly where planned blows my mind. I have crept into anchorages at night before, but it was always a white-knuckle operation and always into a familiar place.

I feel very positive "vibes" from this place and am really looking forward to getting to know it better. From here one of our priorities is to find some places that are particularly good for snorkeling and reading. I'm hoping that if we get checked in today I'll be able to pick a few of the other cruisers' brains in whatever watering hole they use here.

LOG APRIL 8, GOLFITO

Still awaiting pratique (clearance). Its an hour before dawn. Chickens are crowing, The air is fresh with the rain squall that passed through last night. The bay is glassy calm and the boat doesn't even have a hint of a roll to it. The lights around the bay are bright in the clear air and the coolness is a refreshing treat.

The squall hit about 8 PM. It arrived with an ostentatious show of lightning and sounding of thunder. The rain fell in sheets. Phil and Mark were watching Crocodile Dundee on the video and eating popcorn. I went out on deck for the show and sat in the cold rain watching the strobing lightning illuminate the hills. The rain was heavy and fresh and it thoroughly washed away any lingering stuffiness of the day as well as wash the caked salt from the decks and rigging and the salt from my skin. It felt great to be chilled and to be completely salt free.

I don't mind washing, showering and generally using salt water, but there is nothing like the feeling of stepping out of a cool shower in a hot climate.

GOLFITO MONDAY 4/8 BANANA BAY YACHT CLUB VERANDAH

At 9 AM gave a call to the port captain: "Capitan del puerto, Capitan del puerto, aqui Misty, cambio"

We had spent an hour preparing the dinghy expecting to be told to come in and bring the port captain out to the boat for inspection.

When he answered our radio call he told us to bring our papers in to his office. We dinghyed in and he met us at the beach. Happily we didn't have to "dinghy" him out to the boat because he was clearly a man who carried a lot of weight around Golfito and I mean a LOT of weight.

He was very friendly and told us that customs was closed today but what we needed to do was go get copies of our papers and take them to immigration and then quarantine (Agriculture) and since customs was closed, go to customs in the morning and then back to his office. We did our duty and cleared immigration and quarantine. The officials were very friendly and helpful, and we had a long chat with the Agriculture official who was learning English and who had traveled throughout a lot of the US some years back as a guest of the State department. We told him we were going to the Banana Bay Marina and he assured us it was the best--which we found to be true.

We went back to the boat and lowered our quarantine flag and raised anchor for the one mile motor to the marina. We were met at the pier by very helpful people who helped us take on fuel and water and assigned us a slip with electricity, water and TV cable. There were no clouds and no wind and it was mucho hot in the sun so after we did the necessary chores we stopped for lunch.

The marina has a wonderful covered dining area with tile and hardwood floors and with overhead fans to supplement the breeze. We had a fantastic hamburger that was one of the best I have ever had and that was not just because I had been deprived. I drank a 1.75 liter bottle of spring water at lunch which gives you the idea of just how much you sweat down here in these conditions. At 12:30 the produce truck showed up and I bought golden cantaloupes, a watermelon, a huge papaya, ripe mangoes, vine ripened tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, potatoes and pineapple. Also got a huge bag of ice to fill the icebox. We threw out the rotting food we had and replenished it with all of this wonderful produce. I went to the nearest Internet cafe and sent my accumulated email and wonder of wonders the connection was fairly fast and dependable.

Mark seems to have turned around and changed from a petulant complainer to a non-petulant not-so-much complainer. He has been most interested in taking an ecotour that is available where he can experience the rain forest. I told Phil and Mark that I would pass on it since I've had enough rain forest left over from Belize.

So I brought the word processor up here on the verandah and am looking out over the bay as the sun just begins to lower far enough to tinge the sky with a little pink preview of the sunset to come.

Let me try to paint the scene I have here at the yacht club... The tile and hardwood verandah is raised about ten feet above the water level of the marina. It looks to the west toward the setting sun and the floating docks. Half a dozen sport fishers and one or two sailboats occupy the few slips. Beyond that there are six sailboats on moorings all lined up facing south into the gentle breeze. About a quarter mile further is the peninsula that defines the southern side of the mouth of Golfito bay. I see it as a dark jungly ridge about 400 feet high. Its silhouette is sharp against the sky that is totally overcast but bright toward the setting sun. It is only 5 PM yet the mesero (waiter) has turned on the lights to make my typing easier.

I'm alone on the verandah except for Señor Jimenez and a friend of his at the next table. Señor Jimenez is the Agricultural official I spoke of earlier. He and his friend are having a quiet drink and enjoying the cool breeze just as I am. The vibes are very good in this place.

Mark and Phil have decided to walk into town to check out a local French restaurant. I begged off telling them that I had a lot to write and really wanted to continue sitting here drinking an excellent local beer. Later I will take a shower in the marina's facility and go back to the boat to either an early sleep or maybe a movie on cable and some popcorn.

This moment is so mellow that it literally brings tears to my eyes and I would be hard pressed to think of a moment more poignant. The first that comes to mind is when Jana and I were in Maui and had dinner at a beautifully situated restaurant named Bella Luna that brought me the same feeling as I gazed out over the sea between Maui and Lanai and had the remembrances of all the wonderful moments of sailing the South Pacific wash over me.

Well, I suddenly had to stop my writing and scurry down to the boat as I saw a squall hurrying across the bay. I went through he boat closing ports and hatches and about the time I was finishing Phil and Mark came scurrying back for the same reason.

Now the rain is hitting the roof of the verandah so hard that you literally can't hear someone talking in a normal voice. The water is literally sheeting off the edges of the roof.

Phil and Mark are here with me deciding that maybe this is not the evening to walk into town to the French Restaurant.

The first squall was followed by another with even more wild activity and the addition of lightning. We missed the sunset but as it got darker the strobing lightning made up for it. We ordered dinner and continued listening to the rain and the thunder as we ate.

Now it's two hours later and we have consumed several piña coladas some fajitas, a hamburger and coffee. The rain is unabated and it seems that a series of squalls have come one after the other.

My plan is to take a shower and then walk back to the boat, dry off and go to bed to listen to the rain pounding on the decks. The air is cool and there's hardly a whiff of wind as the water pours down. Goodnight.

TUESDAY, APRIL 5, MORNING

I didn't sleep too well last night. It was too quiet. No engine, no pounding of waves, no creaking of rigging, just quiet and a soft lapping of tiny waves against the hull of the boat.

This morning I butchered a pineapple, the sweetest one I've ever tasted. Also had a huge ripe mango and a tree-ripened banana. Now I'm up on my favorite verandah having coffee. It's very good coffee too.

This morning I got up before dawn and perched on top of the deck in the center of the boat. The boat was covered with dew and it was cool. The automobile traffic hadn't started, yet, and almost the only sounds were those of wildlife greeting the morning. There were, of course, chickens, dogs and tame parrots, but louder than any of these were the myriad small birds with their dozens of songs. Some landed on our radar antenna and gave me a ration of shit for occupying their "island". Frigate birds were doing their own fishing since there were no other birds fishing from which they could steal a catch.

As I sat there there came a din across the water from the other side of the bay about 3/4 of a mile away. It rose and rose in volume until it overwhelmed all of the other sounds. It could only be a tremendous troop of Howler Monkeys. They carried on for about a half hour until they made whatever point they were making and then fell silent.

Soon the sun's earliest rays lit the harbor and the show was truly over. The noise of taxis people and various engines took over. Below decks I could hear Phil and Mark stirring as they had a 6 AM tour of the nearby rainforest park. I asked if they'd heard the monkeys but they hadn't.

No one should ever miss dawn in the tropics.

I'll go in to town at 8 to do the aduana (customs) paperwork that will complete our official entry into Costa Rica. This country monitors closely all boating and shipping in its waters largely due to the fact that the drug traffic that was centered in Panama is moving northward. This means that when we leave we have to furnish an itinerary of where we plan to be between major ports. This is a minor nuisance, no biggie.

I don't think we'll get away today but probably will leave Wednesday with the plan of visiting a couple of islands that are reported to have great diving and fishing. We're scheduled to meet John Corallo on the 14th and then Mark will go off on his own for a few days to explore the country. He's anxious to see some of the country and I sympathize with him since the sailing life has been pretty miserable for him.

<Heard after getting back that Mark is going to join the boat in Cabo for the sail north. My hat is really off to him since he's volunteering for possibly the toughest part of the sail north and doing it after having a pretty uncomfortable introduction to yacht delivery.>

One thing we've got to do in town before leaving is determine what's happening with our fresh water system. The water's going somewhere it shouldn't and I don't know where that might be.

FINISHING THE CHECK-IN PROCESS

I should have known it was an omen when the taxi took me to the place where customs used to be. From there I found out that the offices had moved some two kilometers away.

I started walking thinking that a 2 kilometer walk would be no problem. As I walked along the road I would ask people how much father it was. The answer was always something like 500 meters or 600 meters. I was pretty pooped by the time I really did arrive at the aduana.

Two very nice young ladies helped me. Eugenia pointed out that the ship's papers had expired and so were worthless for checking in. We couldn't enter Costa Rica officially with those papers. This was something of a conundrum. How do you get registration papers renewed from Costa Rica. Well, we couldn't go anywhere until we solved the problem. I returned to the marina to await Phil and Mark. They arrived and we chatted about the ecotour they had taken and it turned out that it was pretty terrific.

Then the question came: "And how did you make out at the aduana?"

"Uhh, well.. actually we can't check in to Costa Rica and we can't leave Golfito. Other than that I did pretty well."

A close inspection of the working of the document showed that it was indeed in effect until the end of the year so we were able to go back and complete our entry into Costa Rica after which we left Golfito about 3:30. Our destination is a full 24 hour sail and we're on our way.

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