Punta Mala- bad point

Punta Mala
It was a long passage and pretty typical of days past, a visit by dolphins broke up the monotony of the day. The landscape changed again to resemble the dry hills of Nicaragua. Everything was fine until we passed a place called Punta Morro de Puercos where on the charts indicate strong rip tides. Converging currents and strong on the nose winds made the last few hours hell. We had
pre-planned a few anchorage’s to duck out in case of this type of scenario but unfortunately the winds were blowing from the wrong place making the anchorage untenable.
As we rounded Punta Naranjo the winds shifted and the bottom came up abruptly to 20 feet as we entered shoal area. The winds blasted us from the North East----not good for where we wanted to go.
We decided to head as close to shore as we could only to get winds that accelerated from the hills into us, making me absolutely wet and tense to say the least. I was on the helm as Michel tried to navigate some safe anchorage options to get out of this nasty area for the night.
It was getting dark and the Panama Ships were visible in the distance. We have no radar and we were a bit nervous about sailing at dark especially in these conditions.
We rounded Punta Moro de Purercos where 2 currents collide offering a confused sea. The winds picked up and I really had no option than to tuck in full harness with the wind and water blasting in my face with a vengence. I kept my nose glued to the compass lubber line ducking the waves as they crashed over the bow and on to my head….I want to cry and go home.
I longed for an auto helm this was just too much work on the helm. The kids ducked in below and immersed themselves in Harry Potter. Genevieve was really upset that she could not help as her stitched up hand rendered her pretty much useless. Chantal was a real trooper, she stepped up to each task demanded of her and kept our spirits high with her observations and willingness to help. Her awareness as to the seriousness of our situation was remarkable. One thing I have learned about Chantal is she gets things done when she has to, a take charge kind of person, which is great in these kind of situations. Josee hides and does not say a whole lot, she basically stays out of the way until we need here. She is the best on the helm.
We tucked into a large bay(Isla de Canas or Rays) which really did not offer any reprieve from the wind however, the seas were not as confused. We traversed our way in the lee of the land following the outline of the bay which was about 15 miles - 10 miles was done completely in the dark. Our anchorage was supposed to be at the end point of the Bay. Lucky the wind and water were warm, as I was completely soaked and it was getting cooler.
We traveled for a couple hours in the dark amid strong gusts and breaking seas, navigating our way to small anchorage that offered a tiny bit of shelter from swell and wind. We were confused to see a series of lights in the middle of the bay simulating land where it was not supposed to be. The lights were bright and stationary about 20 or so different configurations. Michel insisted that they were boats because land is not supposed to be there according to our Nobel Tec charts. (electronic) I am not convinced to rely on these charts and opted to investigate the paper charts.
This confirmed Michel’s assertion that the lights were a series of boat. I imagine it was a fish packing operation or something as there is a shelf area and currents that that offer prime fishing grounds. This really added to the confusion and stress of the night.
We entered the anchorage completely in the dark as I prayed for the moon to rise to help us out, but as luck would have it, moonrise was well over an hour away. There were a few shore lights that offered some good points of reference. We dropped the hook and set anchor anxious to tuck in for the night. Then we heard some huge breaking surf about 200 feet ahead. Holy s***t, we quickly pulled up anchor and got the hell out of there to the West side of the Bay. As we approached we saw a catamaran (New Moon) anchored close to a small island at the point. We were grateful that they were there giving us a point of reference for anchoring. ( the name ironic- as I was praying for the moon to rise to help us out in the dark) We dropped hook just beside them and anchored quite close to the rocky island which offered a little protection from the swell however, it was really dangerous to be anchored so close to rocks with the wind was pushing us towards them. The prevailing winds pushed us out to sea so we trusted that they would continue to blow in that direction when the wind shifts. We set all the anchor GPS alarms. Chantal poured us a large glass of rum on the rocks and put on some soothing music for us.
Michel and I looked at each other and realized that we are not cut out for this.
We really worked well as a team and I was proud of his skills to get us safely in the anchorage.
Chantal, made us some food ,and organized a clean up of the boat.
I headed for the shower and was amazed at how my hair would not lather because of all the caked on salt. We tumbled into bed and slept deeply for a few hours and woke later to check the anchor position and wind.
Michel sleeps better than I do in these situations; I worry too much. All the trust is put on our anchor. I tell myself that the anchor held well in San Juan del Sur and the winds here are similar however, I am just not sure about the holding ground.
We hold on for the night and need another day to rest before we head out to the Gulf of Panama.
We decide to move anchor as it appears we have moved farther out of the bay.
The swell is huge and the surfers have arrived in droves to catch the incoming tidal surf. Great for them, tough for us.
We move anchor and set it 2 more times to position ourselves far enough away from the island and surf to allow some comfort.
It worked! We had a great sleep and the winds died about midnight. We thought about leaving then for Isla Perlas, but opted to get a good sleep instead as the next passage was over 20 hours in a notorious area for bad wind and seas. We awoke at 5 and left in light winds and seas with a 5 foot chop.
As we rounded Punta Mala the seas increased and the wind kicked up right in the nose again. I felt the rudder making noise so we lubricated it. Upon closer examination it appears that the bearing might be worn as there was a lot of play in the shaft. Michel was not sure exactly how much play there should be. The last thing I wanted was to worry about rudder problems in hellish winds and seas in the middle of Shipping lanes from Panama- I can’t think of anything more hazardous.
We talked about the boat our time factor and agreed that the boat needs to be back in Canada. We need to get her back into cruising condition where parts are available. The tropical islands are all starting to look the same and the sun becoming a nuisance. I am pretty sure that I am not a good candidate for long term cruising. We thought about the canal transit and the visit to the San Blas which would have to be done in a couple of weeks if all went well. We would have to make our way up to Cartegena Columbia to park our boat for a season.
We are running out of time and money- Gulfito and yacht delivery is sounding like a better option.
We both have concluded that cruising in the Pacific Northwest is really first class.
If you don’t mind rain. I mean the anchorage’s are well marked, lit, and there are tons of them. Here they are far from the comforts and security of the PNW
The best thing about cruising in Central America is the people that you meet.
We turned the boat around to head back to Gulfito, where we will put Jovital on Dock Wise and do some land trips. Sailing down wind eased the pressure on the rudder and we were a lot more comfortable however feeling a little let down about ending our trip.
I really had regrets not going to the Mayan ruins in Guatemala and Honduras. I want to take the kids to the Caribbean side of Honduras where we can dive. Perhaps we will take the bus to Panama, pick up some mail there and maybe help someone transit the Canal.