New list!

I call this one:

Highlights and Lowlifes

Highlights

1.) Trading with the shrimpers
2.) Surfing with only 1 other person in the water
3.) Cold cocktails with jungle sunsets
4.) Sailing really fast (huge bonus if it's in the right direction)
5.) Help to and from fellow cruisers
6.) Ice cream whenever I'm in a town that has it
7.) Those little Nemo fish that stay in your face the whole time you are diving
8.) Ice cubes
9.) The sentence, "No, I sailed here."
10.) The follow-up sentence, "Uh huh, from San Diego."

Lowlifes

1.) All Costa Rican battery sales agents (except Alder Acosta)
2.) Thieves
3.) Century 21 agents and their signs

I think, the longer I do this, the harder it will be for me to ever be with people again.

I feel apart from them. My personal apartheid. Detached. I think Joseph Conrad might have nailed it:

"Sell the house, sell the car, sell the kids, I ain't never coming home."
- Colonel Kurtz -
Apocalypse Now
Adapted from Heart of Darkness by
Joseph Conrad

Hardware, Hookers, Drugs & Surf

A town called Jaco.

There's a cantina in Jaco called the Beatle Bar. The ratio of girls to guys is about 5 to 1. The percentage of girls who are hookers is 100%. They come with fully accessorized breasts and deluxe Latin Luxury Butts (trademark pending). This town also has not 1 but 3 of the best hardware stores I've seen since Sports Arena's Home Depot. I theorize that the hardware stores give the men of Costa Rica a reason to go to Jaco and the Beatle Bar gives them reason to be late.

Here are the 2 weird bits:

1.) There must be 100+ hookers in this town with bodies that stand out in a crowd. But, you never see them during the day. I've been here a week. They don't eat in restaurants, they aren't on the beach.
2.) There is a Christian surf group here. They come from all over to introduce kids to surfing to keep them off drugs, and, you guessed it, introduce hookers to surfing to stop them from hooking. Just typing that makes me laugh.

The "kids off drugs through surfing" bit wasn't that hard to swallow even though these kids are already great surfers who all deal drugs on the side so I have no idea how the Christian group could possible make a dent but I couldn't believe the hooker surfing connection so I went in search of one of these amazing golden heart Christians to hear the real scoop. Her name was "Joey" and she came from the suburbs of Melbourne. She is here because she knows God. I bought her a cup of coffee at a panaderia and we sat down. First I wanted to know how they were going to "introduce" these kids to surfing when they are some of the best I've seen and they live on a beach. No good answer. What about "introducing" them to skate boarding, or ping pong? "Skate boarding - no pavement". She got me there. "Ping pong - that's a good idea".

Oh is it.

Then without laughing I asked about the hooker/surf connection. "So is it true that your organization is trying to introduce Jaco's prostitutes to surfing so as to get them out of the Beatle Bar and save them from a life of whoring?"

"Absolutely. We know that if we can connect with them through the waves, and they can feel the beauty of surf and get to know God then they'll see that they don't need to sell their bodies."

I wanted to go into the economics behind the issue and ask how surfing was going to pay for their families medical bills and I wanted to use the example of a stripper going back to KFC after making $400 a night and I wanted to tear into her on a few other points but her sweet dopey eyes changed my mind. Innocence is precious. Who am I to wrench it from some 19 year old. Maybe, for me, growing up is more than just realizing I can't dance.

"Final question Joey, I gotta run to catch the 5pm bus. Do you surf?"

"I'm learning."

No more Dirty P

I made it out of Punteranas.

I now have 2 fully functioning outboards, full water and fuel tanks, and complete provisions. The future looks bright.

My first stop was Paquera where I met my taxi driver Lecho and his family to take them sailing (remember the previous 12 hour trip to Tamarindo to pick up the outboard and his kids and I scooped melons off the road?). Only thing that was strange about this sail outing is that it was a different family. Different wife, different kid. When they went to the head I asked him what was up. "Shh, I have 3 families." I guess a taxi driver can pull that off.

The next day I sailed to Bahia Herradura (horseshoe) in some fast winds. That's where I am now. I was doing knots in the low 8's for hours and that's with a dirty bottom and towing a dinghy. Barraveigh can be fast when the winds are right. There are a few other cruisers anchored near me. This is the first I've seen of other cruisers since El Salvador, and that was a month and a half ago.

It's much greener here. I'm quite a bit further south and the rainy season is upon us. The new game involves constantly opening and closing hatches trying to guess the rain. And of course everything is a bit more damp in the cabin. I dry my sheets during the day and remake the bed at night. Strange adjustments.

There are a lot of Germans here. I was thinking about starting a self help group for them. I could bolster their confidence by assuring them that they shouldn't be ashamed of their ugly language while trying to get them not to wear speedos. If you are not a competitive swimmer you have no reason to wear one of those banana hammocks.

While sitting on the beach talking with some other gringos I discovered the hierarchy of travelers:

"So when do you fly out?"
"Actually we drove here."
"Oh, that's so cool. What a great trip!. Did you drive here with these guys?"
"No. Actually I sailed here. That's my sailboat right there."

I will never get tired of that line.

There are 2 amazing surf spots in this bay and the one north of it. The bad news is that my leash snapped on a big one and washed my board unto the rocks. Completely ruined. I'm going to give it to my friend Hubert who owns a bar. He's anxious to put it on the wall. Free drinks for me. Now I'm down to 3 boards and 2 of those are injured.

Estas son cosas de la vida,

Power Packin

I'm anchored off an island in the Gulf of Nicoya, just an hour from Puntarenas, my nemesis. I'm sitting in the dark, wearing safety glasses, eating a tuna fish sandwich and typing this out to you. I, of course, have a headlamp on (Do you? And why the hell not?) so should I need light I can make it, but the glow from the computer is all I need right now. The reason for the darkness is that I am equalizing my batteries. That essentially means I am packing as many volts into them as I can with my charger set to "equalize mode" - Sounds cool huh. I've read the manual 3 times now and don't forget I'm wearing safety glasses nonstop so, I'm not in danger. That's how you have to do it cuz otherwise you could get sloppy and forget and go look at those battery cells just when one burped and there goes your eye forever. Not me, No sir.

Well, in order to get the big charge that I need to knock those sulfur build-ups off the plates I can't run any appliances or systems cuz that would reduce my volts in. I planned ahead and bought a big bag of ice (can you picture me on the kayak with a block of ice strapped onto the back as I paddle the 1/4 mile back to Barraveigh) before I left the Dirty P so my food and beer will stay cold. This equalization thing could take up to 8 hours. Gonna be a long night. I have a chefs timer so I can sleep for 90 minutes, check the batteries and then get another 90 minutes. Don't worry. If you get this email then I'm fine cuz I can't send it until after the charging is all over anyway. I do have unlimited 110 power though. So that means I can run the A/C later. It sure is sweet.

I ran into a pack of American students that live and study in the Dirty P (Puntarenas). I criticized it with gusto and then they sheepishly said they loved it, and loved the fact that there are never any other gringos there (Was that a hint?). "Oh yea, well . . . " I quickly came up with some more sharp and cutting remarks about their Dirty P and well, we probably won't be making out later.

I ran into them again as I walked what must have been my 9th lap of the DP. I had 4 items on my list and had to visit 11 hardware stores just to get 3 of them. A lint brush is impossible. The Tica behind the counter told me I'd have to go to San Jose to get one. The insanity of it all. I probably walk 8-10 miles a day. It's as if I'm the DP foot patrol officer. Today this random guy on the street stopped me and asked me, "Hey did you find your alternator belt?" I found that alternator belt a week ago. I gotta get out of this place.

Yea - I'm an ugly American sometimes. If appreciating convenience makes you ugly - I'm the Elephant Man. Give me Home Depot everyday and let all the mom and pops collect food stamps (Sorry independent retailors). I want my convenience. Man do I miss it.

Whenever I pull into a new anchorage I have a little procedure. Once the anchor is down, and I'm sure I'm not dragging, then I shut off the engine, put on The Police's De Doo Doo Doo, De Daa Daa Daa on the outside speakers and then I do a naked back flip off the stern rail. That's my thing. Mine. Don't copy it. This time there was a human watching from the pier. I couldn't tell if it was male or female. Pretty far away. I did hear them call their friends over though. This island was a prison colony. Not much for entertainment and they must have been hoping for an encore. One's all ya get.

Have you ever sounded out the word "Puntarenas"? It means "sandy point" but that's not what it sounds like in English. That's why I just refer to it as the Dirty P.

Gonna be a long night,

Crocs

I am about to tie up to the actual dock. The water depths in this estuary fluctuate about 11 feet. I figure I have at least 6 hours to tie up to the dock (Actually the 3rd boat of 3 abreast. Deeper water on the outside) before my keel touches the stinkiest 3rd world mud ever. I'm doing this so I can borrow shore power from Chico. You remember him right? The idea is to zap the batteries using a process called equalizing which hopefully will knock the sulfides off the plates. The other plus to being on the dock is that I can then fill my water tanks and do all the other heavy lifting with more ease. . . Yea right. . .

Related topic: When I was paddling back to Barraveigh last night in the red kayak something splashed in the water. Chico put his flashlite on it. 9 foot crocodile. No shit. Crocodiles live in these estuaries. He was more afraid of me but just barely. You're safe as long as you don't fall out of the kayak.

The Big 4 National Past Times of Costa Rica:
1. Loitering. It might be illegal in our country but not in Latin America. Here it’s an art form.
2. Littering. They love to toss plastic.
3. Theft. There is no penalty. If you ever catch a thief it is your duty to society to torture them.
4. Futbol!

Introducion por mi nuevo lo mejor amig, Lecho

Let me introduce to you my new best friend, Alexis.

I spent 12 hours with this guy and his two kids today. The whole day was conducted in Spanish. I'm getting better but after 8 hours of it I was exhausted. My head is approaching melt down.

Highlights:

1.) My bank changed from Visa to Mastercard so my debit card was worthless. Couldn't get the money for the motor.
2.) Jeff and his wife decided to trust me to deposit the $825 into their account when I get back to Puntarenas.
3.) We got a flat tire. Out of 10 hours on the road only 1 hour was on pavement. They're even worse then dirt roads. More like trails.
4.) A melon truck was spilling it's load all over the road and we kept slowing to scoop them up. The kids giggled constantly, but not as loud as I.
5.) Getting that big pig of a 4 stroke back on the boat only to realize it's way too big for the mounting bracket. The laughs just keep on coming.

A thought that occurred to me today:

Is the goal as simple as this: "Earning serenity through adventure"? I think it might be.

Estas son cosas de la vida,

What I'll do for horsepower & clear ear canals

This is a very strange life.

As you may remember, thieves stole my outboard almost a month ago. I still haven't been able to replace it. I am getting off the boat in the dark tomorrow morning to meet a taxi driver at 06:00. For $100 and lunch, he has agreed to drive me from Tambor to Tamarindo and back so that I can pick up a 9.9 hp mercury outboard that my new friend Jeff has agreed to sell me for $825 (it was $850 but I gave him an electric air pump I never used and he agreed to take off $25). I can't believe I'm going backwards. I never go north.

While paddling the long long distance to the beach in Tambor for the second time today I heard myself laugh out loud at the epiphany I had just had. The problems I encounter, become the next adventure. Man, that attitude adjustment has helped all day.

Here's what I got to experience that I wouldn't have, had they never stole it:

1.) Chico. He's my new friend in Puntarenas that sells really crummy outboards. You should see his house. Not one wall is structurally sound. His dock is far worse. Eric almost cried when he was forced to traverse it one afternoon with heavy luggage. Chico and I drink coffee at noon break & beer together at sunset while we take turns butchering each others languages. He's proud of the fact that he can say "no" in English.
2.) A 5 hour stint in the cockpit back in Tamarindo taking a 3.5 hp Johnson apart and trying to fix it. Jeff gave it to me. It doesn't work, yet. I gave him my TV/VCR
3.) Countless hours kayaking and all the muscle building that goes with that.
4.) This crazy trip tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

A couple days ago I spent 2.5 hours in the water cleaning the hull. There is a lot of surface area down there and it's exhausting to hold your breath, fight to stay under and scrub away. I wear leather gloves and around each wrist is a tethered tool; a plastic scrapper and a metal putty knife. After an hour my ears filled with water and it was really uncomfortable for the remaining time in the water. After I got out and the water drained, the discomfort didn't go away. I found my swimmer's ear drops and as soon as that cold isopropyl alcohol got into my canal a mini crab about the size of a bb came right out and ran onto my lobe. I squashed him. Other ear, another crab. This is a very strange life.

I woke up early this morning and video taped the sun rise then turned over the diesel and motored around the west hook of the peninsula and am now at anchor in the protected estuary. Nice and flat except for the occasional panga racing by. Really pretty here. There are two big houses that at one time were stately but now look like civil war era plantations that haven't been repaired since Lincoln got shot. Boats galore.

My Cockist Writing Yet

John Cougar said, "if you really wanna taste some cool success then you better learn to play guitar. Play guitar!"

If you've missed your chance at being a rock star then I'd recommend learning how to sail.

I'm coming off one of the best weeks I've ever lived. Suzi was hot, awesome crew, super fun, and thought I was a god. It's real easy to look like an amazing surfer when the only other person in the water is an English bird. I know knots, I speak "sailing", I catch and clean fish, I can see weather up ahead that she doesn't recognize, and sometimes I adjust sails even when I don't need to just to make her swoon. I was a rock star with a captive audience of one. And it all went to my head.

She got off Barraveigh today and as I write this she's on a plane back to London. She'll be missed, but I found a note she hid on my nav station that says, "C U in Panama." We talked about that possibility. I'll look forward to Panama even more.

Highlights of the last 10 days.

1.) The condemned and closed penal colony on Isla San Lucas. Think: Evil Club Med.
2.) Catching the outside set at Bahia Carrillo. Really far to paddle to from the beach but no problem for us liveaboards.
3.) The waterfalls & the pools beneath them in Montezuma.
4.) Running on Tambor beach in the middle of a tropical rain.
5.) Kayaking and then snorkeling through the arch on the back side of Isla Alcatraz (did you know alcatraz means pelican?)
6.) Being invited to dinner with the owner of the next island (Isla Tolinga) after he pulled me on the surfboard behind his 225 hp Mercruiser.
7.) Collecting 4 pockets full of sea snails and then eating them with garlic, butter, and picante sauce.
8.) Visiting Curu refuge which looks like Jurassic Park with monkeys, macaws and boa constrictors.
9.) Watching Suzi shave her legs on the stern ladder as the big tangerine sun slipped from view behind a volcano.
10.) Kayaking 2 hammocks and a cooler to shore and setting them up between palms on the beach.
11.) I promised I wouldn't tell ya ;-)

I Ride A Wave Of Mutilation

- Captain's log 4/11/06 13:38 en route to Bahia Ballena -

Just hit my last shot of SoCo 100 proof. Brought it from SD. Last of the US stash. Last of the Captain's Private Reserve.

I'm more tan than you can even imagine. You thought my hair was white before?

I sit on the bow and count manta rays. Their beam is the same as mine: 13 feet. When they dive you can see their white underbelly.

Boobies try to land on my headsail. They must have flunked math cuz the numbers just can't possibly work. That thing is nearly vertical. Stupid birds. Stupid stupid birds.

I love this life of mine.

I love Inanimate Objects

Maybe "love" is a bit strong but I've found myself deeply enamored with my chain snubber and stern anchor.

Met a girl. She's a 29 year old police officer from London. Completely "fit" with a posh accent. She was sunbathing on the beach reading Ellen MacArthur's book about sailing around the world. I decided the sailboat angle would be my best bet. (Let's face it, the sailboat angle is always my best bet) We ran into each other a few more times over the course of 3 days and I asked her to join me for dinner on the boat. (Colin - the coconut rice cream with bananas worked perfectly as dessert.) Great night and a brand new plan. She has another 2 weeks left of vacation and the moxy to get on a near strangers yacht and sail off. She even helped with provisioning, scrubbing the bottom and refueling this fiberglass home.

We're anchored in Bahia Carrillo which is 46 nautical miles south of Tamarindo. Last night was our 3rd night here and the first noiseless night we've had. We came in after dark, which I don't like to do but landing and cleaning the 3 foot dorado slowed us up. I'm not the steadiest hand with a filet knife especially on a rolling boat but Ryan would have been proud of all the meat I got off that fish. When I was done, you could see light through it.

2 safe anchorages in this bay. We anchored at the northern option. According to my cruisers guide it would be a bit rolly but we wouldn't have any underwater obstacles to worry about. Rolly? It was absolutely untenable when the tide went out and the breakers were pounding just off my starboard beam. At 2:20 in the morning we got up, pulled the anchor and moved the ship. Pretty girls who drive my boat without hitting rocks will always hold a place in my heart.

The next day after kayaking ashore and having a great lunch ("casado" - in CR this word means married and a "combo lunch") in a small "soda" (restaurant) we moved Barraveigh to the southern option. At night the wind shift puts your stern to the ocean and the swell slaps the underside and water explodes through the scuppers. Very loud. One more less than perfect night. Midway through it we relocated to the forward cabin (nice cabin Colin!) and then the friction of the anchor chain rubbing on the guide undermined our dream time.

That's why yesterday I got smart. I set the stern anchor from the red kayak. Great exercise and easier than I thought. I also took the snubber and put it on the outside of the bowroller. Last night was perfect! The "stretch" of the chain now takes place just above the waterline whilst (who do you think I got that word from!) touching nothing and the stern anchor keeps our bow into the rollers and the slap is gone.

Now if I could only get Suzi to keep her clothes on, the fisherman would stop whistling.

I'm dropping her off in Puntarenas on the 15th (her flight is on the 16th) and my good buddy Eric Farber is getting on the next day.

Tamarindo

Costa Rica - Translation: "Nation of Thieves"

I thought I'd erase that after I wrote it. I just needed to get it out there and off my chest but it seems so fitting I'm not deleting it after all.

Connected with my Mom and Brother and aunt Audry in Playa Flamingo on the 21st. "They" cut through 2 locks and stole my outboard engine on the 24th. Mom & Audry left on the 25th. Ryan got off the boat for the last time on the 26th. I went to San Jose to see my brother off on the 30th and now it's a new month with a brand new budget to destroy.

I'm in Tamarindo. It's a lot like Puerto Escondido. Just a surf town with lots of dread locks, tattoos, white people and yoga. Adventure tours are offered everywhere and so are drugs. If I don't get offered something at least 3 times from the beach to the market I feel old.

The time with my mom was really great. Lots of fresh water and a high butter diet of giant shrimp and tasty lobster. She and Audry spoiled my brother and I rotten and we wallowed in it. I went from 4 months of the saltiest existence I've ever had right into the resort's pool. Sumptuous.

Colin left today to travel inland and back to Mexico to see an old friend and then work his way back to the boat after visiting ruins and creating great travel stories. That guy really is the ultimate traveler. It was sad to see him go as he paddled away in the kayak with his backpack across his lap. Be safe my friend!

If you've done the math then you've deduced that I am all alone on the boat. That hasn't been the equation for quite some time. It's a little lonely but I think I'm going to enjoy the sequestering. I'll surf daily, improve my Spanish (my mom and brother think I'm fluent.) I have a long list of boat issues that I want to address before pulling anchor. That, and the fact that this place has a paid guard who sleeps on a boat and will watch Barraveigh means that I'll be here awhile. I've also made a friend on shore named "Columbiano" who speaks only 4 words of English; "Let's go. I'm sorry". He watches the kayaks (After the outboard theft my new thinking is that you have to always have someone watch your stuff) and stores my surfboard for me so I don't have to bring it back and forth everyday. He's been sick lately so I gave him a bag of cough drops today. I don't think he knew what the hell they were, the bag came from SD and hence was in English, but he sure was appreciative. He gave me his hat one night when he was loaded and I know he wants it back but he won't take it. I didn't want it in the first place but due to the manner games we play I now try to wear it around him as a thank you, but I wonder if maybe I'm really just rubbing it in.

Not having an outboard engine anywhere else would mean good healthy exercise rowing the dinghy in, but here, where we are 1/2 mile offshore (cuz of the shoal water) and the wind blowing 25 - 30 knots all the time, it means paddling your guts out in the kayaks. The inflatable is simply a joke in these conditions. We have 2 kayaks. The blue one is faster due to the longer waterline but surfing it into the beach with these breakers almost always means a complete soaking. The red kayak can reach the beach with a dry passenger but count on doubling the strokes it takes to get there. It's a watery life.

Notes on Costa Rica:

1.) Cell phones everywhere. I haven't seen that in awhile.
2.) Beers are twice the price of Mx and meals are tripled. Not cheap.
3.) Not as much Indian blood here and no ruins.
4.) They don't have an army. Interesting huh?
5.) Made my first joke in Spanish: Tampoco means neither, Tampico is a juice brand. It made the breakfast crew laugh out loud.
6.) Lots of exotic birds and the first country that looks like it might turn to jungle in the rainy season.
7.) I saw a monkey

What a Difference a Day Makes

We fought the good fight and dropped the anchor this morning in Bahia Santa Elena in northern Costa Rica around midnight. Ryan just turned 27. We made it.

We wished him a happy b-day and collapsed in our bunks.

It's still blowing 30 knots but after going ashore and having a burger & beer we are now racing at 8 knots completely dry with the wind on our stern. We still have the Papagayo to cross, 50 miles more to go, and customs to clear, but Mom/Bro - I will be on time and refreshed.

Here's the new plan: I'm tired of moving so fast. I'm slowing it way down. No Pacific crossing this year. I'm going to cruise Central Am, maybe even down to Ecuador until Jan and do the crossing then. That's about 10 months. Who's coming to see me?

Reflections on a tough passage and Lessons Learned:

You wanna feel infinitesimal? Go to sea and stare at the galaxy while the winds sweep you out to the great abyss. Yea - I'll admit to it - I was afraid. Not panic. Not irrational neurosis, but good healthy fear. The kind that keeps you alive. I was afraid to lose my ship, my dream, my crew, my life. I hate to admit it but it's one of the situations I yearned for when I put my name on this roster. I asked for this. That's part of the deal.

All in all, I made some good decisions and the conditions weren't that extreme. I probably only stood to drain my bank account. Maybe we were never in physical threat. Nah - that's not true.

Watercannon to the Crotch

09:45 - When working on the foredeck in 40 knot winds it truly is like a fire hose blast. There isn't a dry spot on the outside of this boat and it hasn't rained in months. I can remember just yesterday when wind speeds in the high 20's were exciting. Now we are fighting 38-42 knot winds in 22 feet of water. That's force 8 on the Beaufort Scale except the waves aren't as high due to our short fetch (look it up). The dodger patches are ripping off, and we just drank the last of the coffee. It's amazing how your tolerance for stress can increase. We actually have a positive attitude after 72 hours of slugging it out against the elements. We've made 138 miles in 72 hours. That's under 2 knots per hour. That's essentially crawling to Costa Rica. We can see horses on the beach walking faster than us as they pull fishing boats. Come on - you gotta laugh at this with me.

It's bad but not that bad. Ryan still managed to make us French toast and the inside of the boat is dry. Nothing major is broken. We jury rigged the furling line, scrubbed the bottom 100 miles ago and stripped the last of the fishing line off the shaft. It's good to be chilled again.

13:31 - We might have to stop in San Juan Del Sur for fuel and a respite. This is amazing. When the sea wants to deny you, It's pretty hard to overcome.

Just passed some friends who left El Sal a week before us. Think about the morale on that boat.

Captain Salty

In Motion

It was a great 10 days at anchor in Bahia Del Sol, El Salvador. We crossed that hairy bar (with escort by Murray and Jim from Tarazed and Sparta, and are now making our way south once more. This passage will be the completion of my self-imposed speedy deadline. My Momma is flying down from the States and my brother from Tokyo. I can't be late.

Apparently, we hit every other country. We did Mexico, skipped Guatemala, hit El Sal, and now we are skipping Nicaragua, and heading to Costa Rica. We left 24 hours ago and have only made 45 miles as of this writing. It's been a little trying. The winds have been dead on our nose, the headsail furling line chafed through, and the bottom is a science experiment with enough life forms that we have been slowed by at least a knot. We got a fishing line wrapped around the prop and I had to dive it to free it. Many cuts on my hands from the line and the barnacles. It takes weeks for the simplest injuries to heal when in saltwater all the time. Talk about rubbing salt in your wounds. We are headed to Amapala to anchor and clean the bottom. Some fishermen in a panga raced over about 1/2 an hour ago and want to trade beer for shrimp. That makes me happy. They'll be back soon.

El Sal:

1.) More Guns
2.) More exotic fruit (The cashew nut comes from a fruit called a maranon. The meat is like chewing chalk but the juice is awesome! Strange.)
3.) Pretty girls who stare back
4.) Lots of machetes
5.) Almost no Gringos
6.) You'll never go hungry on a bus due to the frequent and varied vendors who get on and off at every stop

We were there for their big election and it's against the law to drink on election day or one day on either side so my liver is in it's best shape since I was 16. Make that 14. The FMLN won. Get this - they were the guerrillas in the war! It's as if the IRA or the ETA or The Shining Path took the presidency. Things change.

My bro wanted to know if he should bring his fleece jacket. That's so cute. Wait till he gets here. This is wrestling practice hot.

Captain Bob

All mine

I'm sitting at the nav station after a very dynamic surf session. The current was really strong and I had to paddle almost nonstop. Estoy muy casado. That either means I'm tired or I'm married. Which brings me to the crux of this message (no momma, I'm not married).

The guys have left for a week to travel overland around El Salvador and have taken the dictionary. Bummer that the dictionary is gone but o thank god I am finally alone. Great guys but let me ask you this: what's the smallest apartment you have ever lived in? How about 200 sq feet? My brother lives in Tokyo and his place isn't even that small. Now imagine sharing it with 2 other guys. It's a daily psychology experiment. I've lived through some tough situations: I was just down the street when the Mount Poddinger barracks in Belfast was attacked, I was stoned by Palestinian youth in Jerusalem during the Intifada of '91, and I even survived the pizza wars of South Mission Beach, but these living conditions have truly been a grand challenge. I'm holding up well. Not as well as I had hoped though. The point is - I am really going to enjoy my 8 day reprieve from our fraternal order of Barraveigh.

Still can't talk about the lost surfboards. Too painful.

El Sal: I wish I could tell you anything about it. I can't. Not yet. First I have to find the leak, patch the sail and then do whatever I want to do for the next 8 days!!! Can you tell how that excites me? Oh man! Compromise sucks. Momma, you raised an intolerant selfish bastard. Let's blame dad.

After the boat projects I'm going to travel around the country a bit. I'll sleep in hostels and I'll make new friends. I cut my teeth backpacking so it will be a nostalgic return. Communal kitchens, a cacophony of languages, bedbugs and athletes foot. I'll tell them I have a yacht in Bahia Del Sol and they won't believe me. Cute, it'll be cute.

At Anchor

At anchor in El Salvador's Bahia Del Sol. Lost 3 lures, ripped my headsail and worst of all, a big wave ripped two of my surfboards off the boat. I lost the cheater and the board Nash gave me, a 6'4 thruster. So bummed.

Going ashore now to swim in the pool, eat food and take fresh showers.

I'm Safe

We ripped a headsail and had to switch to the spare. Bounced around all night in 25-30 knot winds with building seas. Nobody got much sleep. Then we noticed the forward bilge pump light clicking on and off. Seems we are taking on water. Slowly, but enough that we have to use the manual pump for 5 minutes every 60.

Completely exhausted. Haven't seen land in over 3 days and I have another 24 hours to go. We have to cross a sandbar into the bay at high tide so timing is everything since the bar has surfers on it at low tide. Can you imagine that? I'm going to take my boat over a surf break. Crazy. Best of times. Worst of times.

We did manage to land a massive Mahi Mahi. Sashimi immediately, then ceviche once it cooled, then steak fillets and finally grilled bits for fish tacos. Wait till you see these pics.

We just passed from Guatemalan waters to El Salvadoran waters.

Gotta Love the Diesel Engine

It just runs and runs. We've had it turning at 2000 RPMs for the last 26 hours and we're making 5 knots. Even more than the Baja, this is the most dangerous crossing, but tonight it looks just like a lake without enough wind to propel us at all. I was hoping to send some hairy dispatches describing our level of heel, how the waves were crashing over the bow, the wind was howling in the rigging and everyone was sick (but me). Truth is - this is a lame pony ride. I guess I'll count my lucky stars (literally, gorgeous Milkyway tonight), and cross my fingers that the Papagayo crossing just before I meet my family In Costa Rica goes as smoothly.

Against The Momma's advice we got into the hootch (jugo de durazno y tequila) and are setting up for a couple episodes of South Park in the cockpit. It's just too hot in the cabin and the night air is delicious this far from land. What? You don't think I should be drinking? I got a little too lit in Puerto Escondido and when I tried to apologize the next day my new friend Corey said, "For what? You're a sailor." I like that a lot.

The Flowers of Guatemala

My pesos are officially useless to me now. We got our work done and went to town to spend the last of them. I thought of you Jimmy all day as I prepared to leave one country and head to another (we spent a year hopping around Europe together).

This is my 2-4 am watch and I'm sitting in the cockpit watching the depth sounder lie to me. I know I'm in at least 100 fathoms but this silly sonar can't comprehend anything that deep so it makes up numbers like a kid who didn't do his calculus homework. I've got a cargo ship bearing 110 degrees and passing 6 miles away. The hand held compass is pretty accurate but don't kid yourself into thinking that's how I know. I've been playing with the radar. It's science.

Right Gala and Yemonja are two of the boats that we are sailing with. Everyone wants to have an original name, and with Barraveigh I'm that idiot as well. The price we pay for this uniqueness is that no one can pronounce them. Every radio transmission begins with the name of the boat and it is nearly always followed by, "Come again?" I've never heard of a boat named "Butch", or "Spike" but if I had it to do over again I think I might take one of those.

There are 3 ways to cross the Tehuanapec. Take the rumbline straight across which puts you far offshore which is fine unless a gale pops up. Then you could be in serious trouble. This place gets 160 days a year in which it blows 40 - 60 knots. That's bad. The second option is to hug the shore in 30 feet of water. That has it's merits but there are shoals and fishing boats and nets. The 3rd option is to go to Chipehua (which is nearly where I am now) and if the weather window still looks good for 48 hours then we take the rumbline from here. I like the 3rd option.

It'll take us 5 days and 4 nights.

Leaving MX

As of today we have spent 3 months in Mexico. It's been beyond fantastic. Today is our last day on land in this amazing country. We've filled our fuel and water tanks, we've provisioned the fridge and pantry, and we've given the old girl a good scrubbing. Everything is tied and double tied down. Our paperwork is all in order. We're ready for the wind but we probably won't get any. The weather reports all say we have a 72 hour window to cross the Tehuanapec. Perfect! We are leaving in a few hours with 2 other boats. We have our communication channels and check in times written and posted. We'll be checking constantly for changes in the weather. Next stop: El Salvador.
I'm sure I'll be bored and will send ample emails. I'm rereading my college philosophy books.

San Blas was good. Zeewat was great. Puerto Escondido is the best.

Apparently some movie that was released in Italy 2 decades ago used Puerto Escondido as their setting and so many Italians fell in love with it and actually moved here that this place feels Mediterranean. Playa Zicatela is the beach that has the massive breakers. Here's my confession: Thrice I paddled out and twice I chickened out. Yesterday though, I did drop in on an 8 footer that was barreling along as if it was a run away train heeling off the tracks. I got into it, and I got out of it, and no one got hurt, and no one will ever talk about my performance but - I've now got bragging rights.

Then I went to the point and let all the little Mexican kids snake my waves. As if I had a choice. These kids are so good and smiley and sneaky. The only way I ever get to drop in, is if it's their wave. They don't care. They just whip circles around me. One kid was casting his net from his boogie board and catching 3 - 5 fish with every cast. Right there next to us surfers. So cool. He showed me how he snaps their little necks. Darling child. Then, with one fish between each finger he paddles ashore. He looked like some alien with fish knuckles.

I went to one of the many secluded beaches yesterday and snorkeled and stared at the topless bevy of Norwegian 20 some-things. Then I drank some beer and stared some more. I'm damn near 40. It's time to start staring right? Nah - probably not.

Lots of internationals here, and not just Italians. The Scans play guitar on the beach, The French talk endlessly about the surf, the Aussies drink, and the Brits burn in the sun. It's easy to spot the Aussies cuz they look more SoCal then the Southern Californians.

Roberto

Tinker Bell Magic Dust

Back in the 80's my dad had a Nikon 35 mm with an external flash and when the battery would wind up for the eye burner it made this ever increasing high pitched squeal. That's exactly what this pod of 38 dolphins that has been following us all day sounds like. You can hear them through the hull whistling and chirping and screaming.

How do I describe the things I've seen? I mentioned before the bioluminescense (sp) and how it swirled greenish blue in the head. The red tide is in full bloom in these waters and the dolphins look like torpedoes coated in Tinker Bell magic dust as they run strafing patterns across our bow. I sat on the pulpit and watched them while my jaw dragged in the swell. Then I climbed the mast to the first spreader to watch the show from elevation. These mammals are athletes on the level of Cirque Du Soleil. However, I didn't have to pay $125 a seat for their acrobatics. I got it for free and my vodka and Squirt cocktails didn't cost $12 either (we can make 24 ice cubes a day. That's 8 apiece! Per day!). The guys and I mumbled superlatives for hours. I've never seen anything like it. Every once in awhile when the joy was too much to contain I would yell,"Yes! Mammals!" Then I was embarrassed. I don't know. What was I suppose to say?

The moon hasn't arisen, so the galaxy is lit up like "Lite Brite". If you've ever thought camping in the desert was the way to view the heavens I may have a suggestion for you.

We've finally found that ever elusive wind, or it's found us (Let's not ever fool ourselves into thinking that we are in charge), and we have been sailing wing in wing for the last 6 hours which is just about impossible. Ask anyone who knows. The wind just isn't that dependable. We are actually going to have to find a way to slow us down so that we don't arrive at Puerto Escondido before the sun rises.

Maybe some midnight surf/skiing?

Kinda bored, can you tell?

We've been becalmed for hours. We had some of the biggest dolphins swimming around the boat today. Why don't they pull us. Stupid dolphins. I put on my climbing harness and Colin lowered me over the bow so I could "get right in there". Man they can squeal loud. They can also slap their flukes and dirty the water more than you thought possible. I guess I wasn't invited in the fun. Then we put the biggest surfboard in the water and pulled it behind the boat. At 2500 rpm you could actually stand up on it and "ski".

Flat seas and no wind.

Kinda bored, can you tell?

Hey Gang!

En route to Puerto Escondido from Acapulco as I write this. I never thought I'd spend Valentines day with two other shirtless dudes on a small boat. Everything about that sounds unattractive. We have another 100 miles to go and then we arrive at a break they call Mexico's Pipeline. It's been small everywhere else I've been but for this place that might be a good thing.

The full moon is just off the port bow. The dolphins are swimming alongside. When I flush the toilet the bioluminesence (sp) makes the bowl glow green (Thinking of you Kelly Flaherty;-) A container ship with a Greek accent gave us the weather report, it looks like clear sailing.

Good night all.

Peeling Panels

We attended a party tonight on another yacht. Big beautiful one too. Just Ryan and I, because Colin usually has his own agenda when it comes to social engagements and large parties. He is a virtual non participant in arenas such as that. Fine with me. He's good at everything else.

We've anchored with Jerry and his crew of 2 a few times now: Careyes, Barra de Navidad, Santiago and now Zeewat. He's 67 (feels more like mid 50's), a retired physician from SF and as likeable a man as you could ever wish for. I just want to help him, and smile at him, and ask him where he's going next. His crew is his nice cousin Libby, late 50's, couldn't tell a story to save her life, Manhattanite who loves movies. And Audry, 60ish widow with that shrill English accent (not the good kind) that makes you want to grind your teeth and crush puppies. If a chicken could speak it would sound like Audry. The two women only speak when the other is speaking, so . . . my head moves like I'm at a tennis match. Really uncomfortable, but man do I like Jerry. "He's just so damn likeable", that's our phrase.

I had a moment tonight as we motored back to Barraveigh on the dinghy: Sailfest just ended, there are 100 boats anchored all around us, the city lights ring the whole bay and this town has a 3 story law just like Mission Beach. No massive hotels that ruin the skyline and dilute the town with a weekly influx of tourists. The heat and humidity is so high here that travelers are the only traffic you get. This place has charisma. Lots of it. I highly recommend it.

The lifestyle is one of wet butts and night rides on fast dinghies, low to the water. We wave at our small community members all day long, and it's more likely that people will know your boat rather than your name. Most greetings begin with, "Oh I know you! You're on Barraveigh”.

Notes:
1.) I've always smiled a bit too much but now the good and the bad of it is that it's bleaching my teeth and putting maps on my face.
2.) I'll be 10 years older when this trip is over in 5 years.
3.) I'm tanner than you.
4.) The upholstery panels are peeling off my cabin walls due to the humidity.
5.) There is inch long green shag carpeting on the waterline of the hull. Hot water equals lots of scrubbing.
6.) Jimmy Cliff was right, "You can get it if you really want."

Humidity Bonnet

We spent the last 2 days surfing Nexpa. That place is it. Small waves this time of year but nicely formed and kind folks in the water with real infrastructure on the beach.

We are headed to Zihuatanejo (Zeewat) and will be there in about 15 hours.

New rules to live by:
1.) Don't let Ryan cut your hair in 15 knots of wind in a rolly anchorage (just kidding, he did fine)
2.) Always bring shoes. My feet are officially ravaged. All my fault.
3.) Canadians aren't so bad after all.

3 days ago Colin flew into PV and took the bus down to Penchilinguillo (we call it pinchegringo) The bus hit a truck and he was delayed by half a day. Some nice Canadians drove me all over the place looking for him (I didn't know his bus hit a truck and was delayed 12 hours). They asked if he had any way to communicate with us and I bitterly stated, "I guess a signal mirror" as a caustic joke. Hours later as we were miles away and pulling out of the bay some flashes caught Ryan's eye. Sure enough, someone was signaling us from the shore with a mirror. Later, on the beach, after we re anchored and I paddled in to give Colin a hug and collect him, the Canadian said, "good thing you made that joke about the signal mirror." They had taken his wife's gigantic vanity mirror from the bathroom and gone nuts with it.

We now have no reason to drink Nescafe ever again. Colin brought loads of Trader Joes Coffee. We also have some stuff we needed for the boat and a shark video! That should make swimming more exciting.

We have a new game also. It's called "Name the Injury". We show a wound and then the others have to remember what happened and where. It works well since we are almost always together and hence most likely witnessed the injury and since we are in the water 4 or 5 times a day nothing really heals.

We’re anchored in Melaque which is across the bay from Barra De Navidad. It has a beach break that I will try this afternoon after we move the boat into the lagoon. Sand bars everywhere with detailed directions of how to not get stuck. Wish us luck.

Colin flew home yesterday to visit Ali and will catch up with us probably down around Acapulco. I sent home with him a bunch of warm clothes that I will never need from this lat south. It´s Miami hot by noon. Thank the heavens that the mozzies are nowhere around in this town.

I took a bus yesterday to a neighboring beach town and was so enthralled with the view out the window that I missed my stop and ended up going to the next inland village which was 45 minutes away. That was the end of the line for that bus, and the driver and I laughed our asses off when our eyes met. He knew exactly what happened. So I was stuck in this quaint little pueblo called Cichautlan (pronounced zee what lan) and I strolled around as the only gringo. Rich experience.

As an expert in mimicking accents (I actually have my masters degree in this very subject thank you very much Terry Allen) I have finally perfected the Mexican one. It consists of a long string of Ps, Bs, and Rs, with no gaps in between and if done correctly sounds much like a sputtering minibike with a clogged fuel filter. Give it a try. It’s much easier than the thesis I wrote on how to speak Cuban via the use of puppet mouth.

Back in Tenacatita I met an Aussie with the Danish name Soren and we took his van in search of surf. We found a great beach with large pounders. It was essentially a shore break but we were desperate. After substantial physical abuse we timed our exit and barely made the beach with boards intact. That was harrowing but not nearly as scary as the military road block search we went through earlier. Everyone knows I don’t smoke dope but nearly every Aussie does. I had just met the guy and had no idea if he was holding any or not. I can live in a confined small space. That’s exactly
what the boat is but what the hell was I going to use for a pillow while in prison? I’ll bet the Mexican issue pillow is probably pretty thin or lumpy, if you even get one at all.

They obviously didn’t find anything or this email would be a plea for cigarettes.

Ready for some random stats?

1. I’ve had 1 fresh water shower in 50 days
2. There is an inverse correlation between expectations of hygiene and
happiness
3. I spend less than $500 a month (when nothing breaks)
4. When there are no gringos around, I’m in the 80 percentile of height

After one final surf session at Caleta we hit the trail again and 130 miles later we dropped the hook in Chamela bay right at sunset. The surfboards hanging on our lifelines always attract attention from other boats. Somehow sailboats with boards seem to be highly appreciated even by non surfers. We were invited over to "Blue Sky" (they are in the recent issue of Lats and Ats) and fed and watered but when the kids went to bed we were promptly ushered off. We anchored the next day between two islands and spent hours snorkeling in 75 degree water with 45 foot visibility. We aren't very good with the spear guns yet. Some fish stand in line for death but they're the pretty ones that don't have good meat and it's a sin to kill a mockingbird. My digital camera is waterproof. You gotta see some of these videos. I'll try to upload if I ever find a fast connection. Ryan taught us some yoga on the beach and I wandered all around the island. It's a bird sanctuary. Think: all access pass to the SD Wild Animal Park. Really cool. Saw lots of big beautiful boobies. That's blue footed boobies (my aunts are surely smiling right now). The next day we anchored in the southern section of the same bay and while snorkeling this reef we saw a Mexican kid with a stringer of about 30 octopi on it. We befriended him and had him and his boss and friend back to Barraveigh for wine, beer, pistachios and loads of fresh pulpo. Then it was off to another anchorage called Paraiso (paradise, and it was) Amazing underwater adventures. Jorge, Luiz, and Fernando taught us how to spot and pull oysters off the rocks and we did! Also - shooting the swell in the kayaks as it surges through the rock gauntlets is almost as good as running a rapid on the river. This is a glorious part of the coast. They call it the Mexican Rivera. All the huge houses on the cliffs look like the best of La Jolla with the paint scheme chosen by papa smurf. The anchorages are within 3 - 12 miles of each other which is nice since we can leave whenever we want and not have to plan so earnestly when we arrive since we can always get there in daylight (kinda hairy coming into a new anchorage in the dark). Right now we are anchored in front of a Club Med that shut down in 2001. They've already been kind enough to give us a case of wine and some other things we needed for the boat. It's as if we have found a deserted civilization. Right now Ryan and I are headed back over there to climb their rock wall that overlooks the bay. This place is beyond words.

Haven't had any bugs since San Blas.

I could have sworn I saw a monkey today.

2 new maxims:

1.) Never pass up a bird sanctuary (Free eggs! Just kidding Mom)
2.) Never pass up a beach with a Club Med (they only pick the most beautiful spots)