Next Stop: French Polynesia

I think I may have spoken my final words of Spanish. I’ve got less than 30 days to learn how to make those French noises. It sounds to me like “Z’s” and “F’s” with a heavy nasal murmur. I think I’ll opt for faking it by speaking Spanish with a ridiculous accent.

We left the Galapagos island of Isabela April 24, 2007 at 11:30 am. No wind and calm seas with a 6 second swell from the south. The conditions haven’t changed in 12 hours, except for the heavy cloud cover that now blots out the stars. Suzi is sleeping. I’m pulling the 10 to midnight watch. We’ve caught a favorable current and are riding along at 7.1 knots with only 1500 RPMs. My strategy is to head more south than west in hopes of finding wind. I’m still too far east to drop straight south and catch the trades so there needs to be some westing in my trajectory. I’m hoping to shave a week off the 30 day passage. Wish us luck.

Did you know that there are penguins at the equator? They are absolutely adorable, too buoyant for their own good, and fast under water. They are good friends with the seals, and can often be seen playing around the anchored boat. I called to a seal one day and he swam over and tried to jump aboard. He was inches from my face. Other yachties have had to shoo them out of the cockpit. This morning as I was underwater scrubbing the prop I felt something behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find a small seal, submerged, yet vertical, with curious head cocked and gazing at me, wondering how I was going to eat that piece of metal.

I saw enough tortoises to last a life time. They live so long it’s possible that some of the ones I met may have met Darwin.
And yes, they are gigantic.

The marine iguanas are as black as the lava rocks they lounge upon. They’re perfectly camouflaged, with a face that looks stern and dignified even though their pajamas don’t fit quite right. Sometimes you’ll see them lazily swimming across the bay, late for a nap.

The Galapagos Islands consist of 19 islands with about another 100 islets. Only 4 of the islands are inhabited. 30,000 people live there. There are discos, bars, restaurants, home appliance stores, jewelry stores, art boutiques, and more tourist boats than Cabo San Lucas and Mazatlan combined. The infrastructure is excellent and the science centers are free and very well done, but despite its isolated location, the place is highly developed and expensive. If you are planning a trip there, do it sooner than later.

My mom was born on Bastille Day. I think of it now, only because it’s one of the few French words I know and Barraveigh will be my prison for the next 20 - 30 days. Let the stir crazies begin.

Tax Day?

A pint of bleach and a dozen rags, and I can clean anything. Trust me. I just lived through an effluent nightmare. There is a one way valve inside my nemesis, and it’s called a “joker”. It’s aptly named, as it’s the only humor in the whole procedure. I am, of course, referring to the pump I had to dismantle, that evacuates the holding tank. That’s black water. Not so nice. I’ll stop with the details immediately, but suffice to say, it was the worst chore I’ve performed yet on Barraveigh. It was one watermelon seed that was my undoing. Can you believe that? One watermelon seed. We now joke that we need to chew our food a bit better.

Sorry – but you need to know that it isn’t only a life of extroverted sea lions circling the yacht as we sip sundowners with ice. Sometimes the black tip reef sharks appear in the form of a clogged head. But – there really are black tip reef sharks that swim our perimeter hourly. Cool huh!

Prior to writing this dispatch I went back and read the very first one from over 16 months ago. I was at 30 degrees north by 116 west. I’m envious of the later. I’m currently at 90 and won’t reach the Marquesas until I hit 138. I’ve got a long trip just to get back to the westing I had when I left San Diego. We are only 10 days away from the beginning of that voyage. 3000 miles. That’s 3 times the distance we just pasted onto our charts. We are standing on the edge of an abyss called the Pacific Ocean. I will never forget these days.

I also don’t think I will ever forget the level of consciousness one attains when at sea. It’s a level of awareness that I (and I can only speak for myself) never approached when I lived on land. The music that the water makes as it fingers the hull, and what its changing octaves mean in terms of acceleration and heel. I can accurately guess the speed of the vessel within a tenth of a knot from the sound alone (as I lie sleeping, no less). I am deft at spotting the “cat’s paws” on the water, and how to pursue the elusive zephyr. I have a special relationship with the clouds now, when never before did they reveal their intentions to me. I’m a palm reader if you don’t believe, but if you’ve been out here, and lived this existence, than you know it’s not snake oil I’m selling.

My cousin Don recently emailed me and he wrote of planting bird seed millet and getting the corn crop in the ground. He’s the real deal; a farmer in Nebraska. That’s a man that has an intimate relationship with his surroundings and the forces upon them. I’ve spent the majority of my life in cities of over 3 million. And most of those cities never had 4 seasons. I was detached from the rhythms of the wilderness. I was an uninvited gate crasher when I stuck my toes in the big salty to test the waters, and I am just now beginning to feel like I have the playbook for this Sunday’s game. There is a brotherhood between those who depend on the weather. Tonight I’m lifting my drink to the dazzling array of brilliant stars that can only be seen from the outskirts of civilization.

Latitude 00*00

Let me tell you about a very brave woman named Suzi Roberts. She took a leave of absence from her career, rented her flat in Brighton England, said good bye to all her friends and family and flew to Panama for a completely different life. And she did all this in spite of the fact that her sister, just a year younger than her, was killed only 6 months ago in a horrible accident in Africa.

She worked long hard hours, full of frustration, without speaking a drop of Spanish, just to get Barraveigh ready to cross an ocean. And she did it all on someone else’s boat with a stubborn captain who likes to make rules. Up until departing Panama she had never done an overnight passage, let alone a 1000 mile journey that would have her all alone, at night, in the cockpit, with total responsibility for this 12 ton beast, as she raced full nose ahead heeled over making 8 knots. She was then allowed only 2 hours of sleep before having to do it all over again and again. She was scared, and she was alone, and she cried, but she never quit, and she never so much as missed a watch, and if she had to wake me to help with reefing the sails when the wind went over 20 knots she would let me sleep an extra 20 minutes to make up for it. On top of it all she cooked and cleaned and wore that bulky harness/PFD, with clacking carabiners without complaining every night.

She is now about to cross the equator. In sailor jargon, that means she is about to graduate from “Pollywog” to “Shellback”. It’s a big deal for any sailor and Suzi Roberts takes the titled on her first over night passage. You want to talk about courage, about tenacity of spirit, and having a never quit attitude – That’s my Suzi! None of it has been easy. She’s exhausted and in need of a real shower, but she dug deep and she overcame. Victory to you Suzi Roberts! You are only a day away from anchoring in the Galapagos.

Bobby

What an Anniversary!

It was 1 year ago today that Suzi and I met. We decided to celebrate by going to the middle of nowhere and to deal with 20 knot headwinds and 5 foot swells. We know how to live it up.

We are now 300 miles from the Galapagos Islands and 600 miles from Panama. Yesterday a US drug spotting plane flew above, circled twice, and wished us well. Apparently we don’t fit the profile of drug smugglers. He did tell us the whereabouts of our friends who are ahead of us. Good to know the Norwegians without the radio are ok.
The weather forecast calls for more of the same for the duration of our trip, but with increasing swell size. Fun. What’s even better is that the swells are about 8 seconds apart so it’s a constant hobby horsing effect. That really made Suzi’s omelet appealing this morning.

I can’t complain too loudly. Yesterday we watched Finding Nemo in the cockpit and laughed about Suzi’s new approach to the toilet. It’s still a dream and we are still making 4 knots. At least I didn’t report to a cubicle today (sorry Mike).

Captain Salty

Killer Whales

That's right. I didn't think it could be true either but they're here and they look terrifying. We had 2 pods circle Barraveigh today. I just finished reading a book called "Surviving the Savage Sea" about some Scottish family that survived in a life raft for 40 days after their ship was holed and sunk by killer whales. My mom's on a plane to Tokyo right now or else I wouldn't have told you. By the time she gets this email we'll be safely out of their zone. Apparently it's easy to run over them when they are sleeping, and then because of territorial macho bravado they have to, by the code of the killer whale, sink your boat. It's all animal kingdom stuff dude. I'm going to learn a lot more about that in the Galapagos. Like which turtles you can't eat.

No wind at all. We are sweltering in the tropical heat and the motor only makes it hotter. The stove is even worse, but Suzi's upside down pineapple cake is worth it. That girl bakes daily. Awesome.

We've been motoring for the last 24 hours. We've covered 280 miles and have another 620 to go. The sea is so calm it looks like oil. This is the ITCZ. The Inter Tropical Convergence Zone. You've probably heard it referred to as the Doldrums. The Spanish explorers of 500 years ago called it the Horse Latitudes. They would chuck their horse into the sea in order to lighten the boats when their provisions ran low. I'll bet that freaked out the Orcas.

Capitan Bobby

7 knots in 14 - on the way to the Galapagos!

We weighed anchor yesterday at 13:30 (that’s 1:30 pm). We’ve been in transit for 24 hours and have made 123 miles. That’s an average of 5 knots, if you don’t have a calculator handy. She did it all under sail. We only used the engine to leave the anchorage and charge the batteries. That’s pretty good for this old girl, weighted down like she is. I think it was the bottom cleaning that she appreciated so much.

Suzi’s first night at sea went smoothly. She only had to wake me once and she followed all the rules perfectly. It can be rather daunting for a neophyte but she is doing very well. We’re both a little sleep deprived but catching up throughout the day. We have to; we probably have another 9 nights of this.

Suzi’s on watch while I’m down below typing this. We had a “row” early. She was being “stroppy”, but she was sure that it was I who was being “stroppy”. How cute is that word; “stroppy”? I start liking her again every time she says it (even though it was her who was stroppy). Then when she cooks a meal – oh yea, all is forgiven. Who says the English can’t cook? That might have been true a couple generations ago but she might even be better than Colin. Sorry Colin.

We saw dolphins, watched a shark catch and eat a fish, and I even spoke to the captain of the biggest containership you ever saw.

“Sir, do you see me on your radar?”
“Yes. I have you on the radar.”
“Sir, are we on a collision course?”
Long pause. “No.”
“Thank you for checking.”
“Snowdrift standing by on 16.”
“Barraveigh clear.”

A Return to Saltwater

Time to Leave

I have been issued my zarpe (exit papers) and the kind lady at the Port Captain’s office waived the $500 fine that I should have incurred due to my lapse in cruising permit coverage. In fact, she went so far as to fabricate new entry papers so I couldn’t be fined. Then the immigration lady banged her final stamps into our passports, and we were ready. No oil pressure.

10 days later we have a new zarpe and updated stamps next to the canceled ones. I think I’m almost a diesel mechanic now. But that’s a dead end story that isn’t any fun to relive. Suffice to say that I am typing this enroute to Las Perlas. I just spotted land 10 minutes ago. We’ll be anchoring before sunset.

Barraveigh is sitting quite a bit lower in the water. The 350 pounds of new anchor chain I put in the bow makes her look like she’s dipping her head to the Emperor. She is, in fact, so loaded with the year’s worth of provisions that we have stowed aboard that she was seriously heeling to port – an issue I remedied with diesel and H2O placed on the starboard side. The future sailing will no doubt be sluggish, but I’ve been warned that the prices in the South Pacific islands can be 10 times what we’re paying here, if you can even find it to buy. I want my 15 cases of beer, 5 gallons of rum, 6 gallons of wine, and 1400 pounds of canned everything. I’ll pay the price in speed to save the cost of provisions. It is, after all, a pleasure cruise, and I’m still doing 5.6 knots in 18 knots of wind on a beam reach.

Goodbye Panama
Panama City is the place pirates would come to replenish crew. This place looks like the bar scene from Star Wars. White, black, brown, and then there are the Kuna Yala Indians with their psychedelic blouses and skirts. Not to mention the wildly colored leg beads. They are all exactly the same height, 4’ 8”, and add even another language to this mash of linguistic stew. The buses are large, aggressive and constant. They cost only 25 cents and are very convenient to use as they choke the air with smog. The other pollution is the noise. There is no sensitivity to volume. Your ears are constantly assailed, but at least it’s never boring. If you want to play “USA”, you can go to Albrook mall. It’s like the Mall of America. Everything us Yanks love. They even have a Pricesmart here.

On the other side of the coin, you can lock your doors and take a cab to the questionable slums of Casco Viejo. The French based themselves here when they took their shot at the Canal back in 1881. The architecture makes it look like New Orleans, with old Spanish churches punctuating the plazas. If you’re feeling bold, get out of the cab and drink a lot of ice cold 24 oz. Balboa beers for $1. A couple weeks back I went with Jimmy and Caroline from Bluemoon on a pub crawl. First bar we went to, a drunk threw his bottle across the room. It exploded on the wall next to us. He was ejected, and as our seats were wet, we left too. It was clear he wasn’t welcome back in the cantina and in my inebriated condition I reckoned the polite thing would be to invite this antisocial violent drunk to come along with us. He later stole $20 and ditched us at a brothel. But meeting new and interesting people is why we travel, right?

There really is nowhere else in the world like Panama. It’s the only place I can think of where two oceans meet, two continents meet, it has European history dating back to the 1500’s, and the US purchased it into existence less than 100 years ago. Then there’s the Canal. You need to see that for yourself. And the story behind it – utterly amazing! Get here and soak it up. I’m sure going to miss it.

Life On Barraveigh
Here’s a little candy for you techie gear heads: all electrical connections have been lubed with dialectric grease, we have the brightest cockpit after the sun sets thanks to my directional solar lights and their own dedicated panel. We’ve re-stitched the mainsail, chafe is constantly hunted down and eliminated. I've backplated the padeyes and strapped all the new containers in place so no matter the sea state, all our provisions in that forward head should stay put. I have noted all the net frequencies and the emergency channels and they are posted next to the long range radio. I've installed the replacement batteries for the house system and they are strong and powerful. New is good, and amp hours are luxury. The water collection system has been perfected and all the hoses and couplings are brand new. I changed the tranny fluid, all other oils, and filters, rebuilt the sewing machine box, bought a brand new outboard (5 hp and it won't touch saltwater until we get to the Marquesas islands), lashed 10 more jury jugs to the rails (we'll have enough fuel onboard for 1000 mile range), replaced a frayed halyard, perfected a complete paper library of all charts from here to Papua New Guinea. I bought a new kayak and paddle, padded the stern ladder so Suzi can't complain anymore due to her tender city feet, installed a new tach (this one complete with an hour meter and inbuilt light. Nice!), filled the scuba tanks, upgraded to a 1500 w inverter and bagged the 700 w for future use, belted down all batteries, fixed a leaking sink, made copies of our friends movies, mounted a swivel bracket in the aft cabin for better movie viewing, and stowed ample spares for the next 18 months. We’re very ready. The waiting is over. Let the trip continue.

Captain Bob Friedman

P.S. / Our friends are already waiting in the anchorage ready to wash us in sundowners. It’s so good to be a cruiser again.

Back in the Tropics

Wow – it was great to step off the boat and revisit the First World. I completely lost the elastic imprint from my headlamp. Endless fresh water and unlimited electricity, was that real? Did I really sleep in rectangular beds with down comforters? Civility is a pleasant distraction when you live the life of a near barbarian. The recent niceties were highly appreciated and I give thanks to all who gave me a bed, couch, ride, meal. Someone told me that I’m an “advanced beach bum”. Yep, that’s about right. I guess I like that better than “global layabout” or “international ne’er-do-well”.

“Previously on Barraveigh”

I left San Diego Dec 1 of 2005 with Ryan and Colin. They have long since left for new adventures. Leg 1 got me to Panama City. Colin and Ryan both deserve standing ovations for their contributions to the effort.

The gear is expensive, the lifestyle isn’t. Theft is now built into the budget, and when it happens again I’ll try to be philosophical about it.

Leg 2 began 5 days ago when I returned to Barraveigh after 2 months traveling to Europe and the States. My English girlfriend Suzi turned in her police badge a few days ago and will be joining me on the 24th. Together we will provision Barraveigh and sail to Ecuador, the Galapagos Islands, and then make the long crossing to French Polynesia. That could mean 30 days without even seeing land. We’ll end the year either in New Zealand or Australia. How’s that for a reality show!

Stay tuned.

Captain Bobby

I'll Take The United States For $800 Alex

Panama is the place pirate ships come to get new crew. This place is like the bar scene from the first Star Wars. They’ve been cross pollinating for over 500 years and since it’s the meeting place of 2 continents and 2 oceans, this town has every type of everything. I’m going to miss it.

I’ve lubed and stored my bicycle. I’ve written up all the instructions for Ricardo. I’ve color coordinated the procedures for starting and stopping both the generator and the Perkins. I’ve locked the last remaining kayak 4 different ways, I’ve deflated the dink and lashed it forward of the companionway. I’ve run a cable through all the fuel jugs. All the lines are coiled and secured, I’ve checked and rechecked my lists, I’m packed.

June 30th 2005: I knew it was the last evening I would be sleeping in my bedroom at 802 Dover Court. I was wondering what the next year would hold. This time I’m only wondering what the next 2 months will hold, but the anxiety of leaving my known surroundings is still a rat in my belly.

I’ve picked a good buoy. I know the depth at spring tides (which means extreme lows) is manageable for my 6.5 foot draft. If I would have left it at anchor in La Playita, the thieves would have picked my bones clean. I think I’ve bought myself some peace of mind here at the Balboa Yacht Club for the sum of $500 per month.

Random Observations:

Everything is a haggle, but when I haggle with the taxi drivers the negotiation takes a turn. This is where I have the upper hand. All they want is money. I want air conditioning. “Esta bien. Una y media, pero con aire condicion.”

I just ate the last tin from the States. It was Del Monte Fresh Cut Whole Kernel Corn. That means it’s been sitting beneath the sink for a year. I find it interesting that the water that comes out of that spigot smells like old broccoli. I guess there’s a vegetable theme happening here.

If you’re a street vendor and you put on a Michael Jackson video, crowds will gather. The guy has such a pull on the world it baffles me to no end, but they love him in Latin America and I don’t think he knows a single word of Spanish.

Since it’s near the 1 year anniversary of the flooding in New Orleans they showed some old footage and on it there was a lady who had been soaked out of her home and they were offering her a sailboat to stay in and she said, “I know my rights. You can’t make me live like that!”

I live in a sailor park and I own a snailboat, but tomorrow I will be eating lean pastrami and sleeping in clean sheets with air conditioning. Miami here I come!

The Hebrew Toupe

It’s Tuesday and that means left over pizza. On Monday nights everyone gathers at Flamenco for their 2 for 1 deal and to discuss where to buy chain, get canvass stitched, and who’s the best electrical guy to hire, as well as all the other repair topics we chatter about constantly. It seems to me we wage a weekly battle to keep our boats between 60 - 80% of their health. 100% just isn’t practical in these conditions. 80 is the new 100. 

This place is really filling up. Everyday 2 or 3 days more boats come down the Pacific coast and 2 or 3 more cross the Canal from the Caribbean side to prep here in Panama City for their Pacific crossing. I’ll be leaving in 2 weeks, but not to sail anywhere. I’m parking Barraveigh on a mooring ball at the Balboa Yacht Club and flying home. Can’t wait! After a couple days in Miami with Terry and Kelly I’ll be in Sandy Eggo on Nov 17th. It’ll be nice to wear a jacket and shoes again. I’ll be away from Panama for 2 months and in that time I’m taking a side trip to London to visit Suzi. I’ll be back in Panama Jan 15th and she’ll be joining me along with Geoff Nelson for the passage on Feb 5th to Ecuador. 

On April fools day I’m going to shave my head (easier for hygiene on long passages plus I’m sick of this straw), and with Suzi, leave for the Galapagos, and then the big hop over the Pacific to the Marquesas chain in French Polynesia. 

 And now for the randoms: Panamanians point with their lips. It’s true, they tilt their heads back, and pucker in the direction of what they want you to look at. When I ran aground on a sandbar in the company of at least 20 other sailboats not one of them came to my aid. Only Clyde on a 100 foot mega power yacht helped me. He later said, “Your mistake was in yelling for help. If you wanted sailing cruisers to come to your service you should have yelled ‘free beer’ or ‘half price’ or ‘2 for 1’”. He has a point. His other illuminating quote was this, “Maybe the lifestyle of the cruising sailor isn’t one dedicated to self sufficiency so much as it is a commitment to total inconvenience.” 

I like that one but have to temper it with the fact that he is viewing us from the fly bridge of a 100 foot catamaran (40 feet wide) with 2 elevators, 4 freezers, a formal dining room and Direct TV. He sailed from San Diego to Cabo with his Geo Tracker lashed to his bow. He and his Swedish wife are my all time favs and I’ll be transiting the Canal with them on the 8th. I’ve spent at lot of hours on that boat with Clyde fixing my broken everything in his full size machine shop. 

There is a little van that arrives every morning at 08:00 and the man sells empanadas and chichas for 25 cents a piece. He wears a yarmulke and I finally got up the nerve to ask him if he was Jewish. “No senor, I only wear because of this.” And then he took off his yarmulke to reveal a bald spot that was perfectly hidden. I now refer to it as his Hebrew Toupe. 

When eating a meat dish in Panama, it’s important to have a lot of napkins because the food goes into ones mouth and then right into the napkin which is then hidden so as not to embarrass the cook. I guess they are too poor to throw away fat and gristle. Freakin awful. 

I buy 6 green bananas cuz that’s the smallest bunch you can buy. The next day they are ripe and I eat 3 of them. The day after, the remaining 3 get thrown away cuz they are rotten and full of fruit flies. Total cost, 30 cents. 

I don’t like those black nights when the squalls pass through. I appreciate the moon. If I have some visibility it’s not nearly as spooky. 

I’ve been out of US waters for 11 months.

The wind is howling here and I've been bouncing around at anchor like a pinball. Last night a can of unopened soda that I had left in the cup holder in the cockpit bounced out, struck the floor, and then fell through my open hatch at 02:20 and landed on my chest. I thought someone had fired a tear gas canister into my bunk. It scared the shit out of me. Fizzy soda water squirted everywhere. Took me a couple minutes to figure out what happened. I had to laugh at that one but you should have seen the mess. So - I spent an hour cleaning it all up and then couldn't get back to sleep.

Cold Drinks & Clean Sheets

"I get knocked down, but I get up again. You're never gonna keep me down." - Tubthumping / Chumbawamba

I asked for a 3 month extension on my visa. They gave me 2. Everyone gets 3. Why do I get 2? O how I hate the bureaucracy. Now I have to go through this whole process again. I had my exit timed to miss it. Damnit!

"Children I wanna warn ya, Cuz I've been to California." - Do You Wanna Hold Me / Bow Wow Wow

When asked where I'm from, if I respond with "Estados Unidos", I get a radically different response then when I answer, "California". USA is seen as political. CA is only “fun fun fun”. The Red Hots were so correct when they coined the phrase, "Californication". I think the world views it as a separate entity from the USA. It's been the flavor of the month for 50 years. Let it ride, and please buy the hype.

"I eat more chicken than any man ever seen" - Back Door Man / John Lee Hooker

Sam Shepard wrote in his play, "True West", "I come in through the window, but I go out through the front door." Well, I am a back door man. I can't blend. I just can't. I can't assimilate, and my old credo of, "Look straight and infiltrate", doesn't serve me here. I am the ultimate outsider. I went from the Mayor of Mission Beach with my custom long bike and quiver of boards to the Freak of the Causeway with my folding bike and my quiver of boards (None of the locals or my fellow cruisers surf). You can only be a local in exactly one place. Everywhere else you are an outsider.

"Somehow I stayed thin, while the other guys got fat." - Rush / Big Audio Dynamite

My uncle Bill is a physician and he helped me repeatedly when I severed a tendon sheath in my finger while shucking oysters (it still doesn't work right. I think this is as good as it's going to get). I must now ask how in the world anyone can eat this much fried food and live past 55? This is worse than Glasgow. I might have a slight genetic head start but I've got to believe I'm going to lose if I don't get out of here. I'll be a fat corpse right? Fat and starch. Starch and fat. Pass the salt.

"Everybody hates a tourist. Especially one who thinks it's all such a laugh." - Common People / Pulp

I like the tourists. They speak good English and laugh at sarcasm, which is something I think only English speaking cultures understand. Can you disprove this?

"I wish that I was both young and stupid." - You Could Make a Killing / Aimee Mann

It's impossible to be friends with the natives. Here's why: Relative to us, they have nothing. Ultimately it always ends with them hitting you up for money. That wrecks everything. You can be friendly, but real friends, nah - not when we hold what looks to them as a massive pile of acorns in the middle of their winter. I wish this hadn't been proved to me over and over. Idealistic ignorance is bliss.

"There's a port on a western bay, and it serves a hundred ships a day. Lonely sailors pass the time away, talking about their homes." Brandy / Looking Glass

Cruisers. What a concept. Here's what I've learned: These are some of the best people I've ever met in my life. As good, and in some ways better, than bike shop owners. However, once you dig a little deeper, you find alcoholism, drug abuse, broken romances, violence, bankrupt companies, and hatred towards the countries they served. Every time I spot it in someone else I have to ask myself what others must find in me. I'm a cruiser. Am I the only normal one? Not likely. As Blintz would point out - I'm Peter Pan. I'm Captain-Run-Away. I have to ask myself, "why did my brother and I essentially choose the most isolated lives we could find?" And I'm a very gregarious man! It doesn't make sense, even to me. I constantly scratch my head on that one.

"Johnny, we worry. Won't you come on home." Johnny Come Home / Fine Young Cannibals

My friends on Blue Dolphin finally emailed me. They made it to the Galapagos. Just a slow boat with mechanical issues. It took them 31 days and they averaged 1.25 nautical miles per hour. That's extremely slow. Greg defected and he's not going to continue to the Marquesas. Now they are a slow boat with mechanical issues AND shorthanded. Fun.

It isn't all bad. After rereading this, things sound bleak, and they aren't. Bottom line: I got a new dinghy, I got the little outboard to run (Colin - completely removed the leaking valve. Bypassed it with a new fuel line), the rainy season is ending, I have friends and know how much the non-gouge price is. I can't be beat, cuz I won't quit. That's the bottom line. That, and don't forget, I have cold drinks and clean sheets.

"Thank you disillusionment. Thank you frailty. Thank you consequence. Thank you silence. Thank you clarity." Thank U / Alanis Morissette

Panama Part 2

I spent a few weeks at The Balboa Yacht Club. It was nice, in a “marina” sort of way that I usually make fun of. No need to have a dinghy, they provided 24 hour water taxi service. Sometimes I could even pull in a wireless connection for the internet while on the boat, mostly I had to take my laptop to the outdoor café, but it’s nice to be at an outdoor café too. They even had live music twice a week. Sweet Home Alabama and Hotel California just don’t sound right with a Spanish accent, and the Hispanics don’t dig my Morrissey collection. We all agree on Manu Chao however. I think he is the great unifying force in all Hispanic & Latin countries. Check out his music if you haven’t already.

I was on a mooring ball about ¼ mile south of the Bridge of the Americas. This is the bridge that would link North and South America if the US would allow Panama to complete the roads through the Darien to Columbia. Never gonna happen when Columbia’s largest export is cocaine. This is also the same bridge that will serve as my finish line when I complete my circumnavigation. I spent many hours staring at that bridge in all different times of day noticing how the lighting changed it’s form and trying to image what it will be like all those years from now. Transiting the canal will be a climatic finish to a slow race.

On the 23rd I motored Barraveigh unto a railway that was then cranked up the shore embankment and for 3 days she stood on her keel while Ricardo and I fiber glassed her rudder and painted the underside. I’m still scratching from all the glass fibers. She went back in the water yesterday and after bringing her to the dock for water I went to the anchorage at La Playita. It’s great to have her gently swaying at anchor again after being on the hard at a less then even angle. Plus I love peeing off the side and throwing banana peels out the hatches. Nobody appreciates that at the marina yard.

I spent today trying to get my 3 month extension. My first 3 months expired yesterday. I’m now an illegal alien. I’ll finish the process tomorrow. They refused to process me wearing flops, shorts and a tank top. I have to return with pants, shoes and a real shirt. I haven’t worn shoes since . . . when? California?

3 months in Panama. The weirdest part of that is that new arrivals now ask me all those questions that I used to quiz my fellow cruisers about. The last time that happened was when I was in the Dirty P. Remember those days?

Randoms:
Colin – I still haven’t burnt the handle on the espresso maker.
Eric – That roast was delicious. My pal Eric was just down here and the guy paid for everything. We had a blast. Farber for Panamanian Ambassador!
Davey Dave – Remember Alex, the “immune to emotion” single hander? He now professes to be in love with Cassy.
Blue Dolphin is a 36 foot Columbia that left for the Galapagos 3 weeks ago. No one has heard from them since. 3 on board and 2 of them were my drinking buddies. I’ll keep you posted.

I ended up turning down the delivery after closer inspection of the vessel and more time spent dealing with the owner. Not safe, and I didn’t want to work with him after all. I do think that I’ll fly home sometime in Nov though. See most of you then.

Been A Long Time

Sorry it took me so long to make an entry. I'm alive and well and actually have some news to report. I’ve been hired to deliver a 47 foot sailboat from here to Seattle. Wow – that’s 5000 miles, uphill, and in bad weather. It pays well, she’s a fast boat and as captain I’ll get the best berth. The plan is to dash from here back to El Salvador, then Acapulco, Cabo San Lucas, San Diego (I’ll anchor in Mariner’s Basin and all you locals will have to come party on the big boat. San Francisco, and leave her at her rich owners private mooring in his backyard in Seattle.

I’ll then fly back south and visit family and friends before flying back to Panama to move back onto Barraveigh. I haven’t told her about the other boat. She’s not going to like that.

I think I’ll be in SD around Halloween the first time, and then back again about 20 days later. I’m going to need some Beachcomber time with all my friends, a seared ahi tuna sandwich from The Liar’s Club, and no Spanish for the entire stay on that side of the border. Momma I’m coming home and we’re going to eat Reuben sandwiches for every meal.

Dave McGinn was just down here for a fun trip and Eric Farber will be here tomorrow.

Todo es tranquillo amigos

Boat Woes

Here's what happened:

I moved the boat over to the BYC (Balboa Yacht Club), got gas and water at their dock, and had small talk with the workers there. They then gave me a mooring assignment. I went down one line of boats to come around the backside of the one they had assigned, which was the only way to do it given the way the wind was blowing and as soon as I rounded the end of the line I got stuck in the mud. I couldn't power off on my own and the bozos that came to my "rescue" were the most hapless wastes of skin I've ever met. Effing idiots. The Keystone Cops. It would have been hilarious if it had been someone else.

It was a sickening feeling. All I could think was, "Today's the day I lose my boat. It's all about to end in a few hours and there is nothing I can do about it." My fear was that as she lay over on her side the rudder would break and the keel would leak from the pounding.

I closed up all the hatches, brought everything inside, and the only one who came to my assistance; Clyde, on a 100 foot mega yacht helped me all day. He took my primary anchor out forward so I wouldn't drift further onto the sandbar and we also set another anchor off the halyard from the top of the mast in hopes of dampening the rock and roll when a big freighter went by (I'm literally in the canal zone almost under the Bridge of the Americas). The hatches on the port side of the boat soon turned into aquariums. It was like a glass bottomed boat. 4 inches of water and then the sand and mud of the bottom is what I saw looking out of them. The heel of the boat was so severe, as she was soon drying on her side, that it made movement aboard almost impossible.

Nothing to be done now except eat and wait it out. Clyde took me aboard his palace boat and his Swedish wife made us hamburgers. After lunch they even came over and helped me clean the bottom. Well, one side of it anyway.

As the water began to rise she took a few bad rollers from the big ships that went by. I was concerned about the strain on the rigging but decided the anchor would pop before anything could really get tweaked. I gradually let the halyard out as the water came in and she slowly came to her feet. Weary like a drugged elephant trying to shake off the dart, she stumbled on her keel for another 20 minutes and then I was free.

Clyde once again came to my assistance in retrieving the anchors and picking up the mooring. It’s been 15 hours since I got loose and it doesn’t look like she is taking on water. I’m going to have her hauled and check the underside, but I think everything is fine. It was just a lot of work and struggle and stress but I guess I chose that life so I have to deal with the bad parts too.

All my fault but they are supposed to guide you to the mooring ball and pick it up for you, especially if you are a single hander. Today I’ll be speaking with the manager, and in the future I’ll ask more questions.

This One Hurts

First, let me tell you what happened yesterday. Yoshi is a cruiser from Japan. He was on land when we got hit with a squall that clocked 60 knots on the wind meter. That’s utterly ferocious and when it comes out of the east the waves build to 8 feet in no time. He was racing in his dinghy to get back to his yacht when he capsized. He’s fine. He was saved by Preben my 70 year old neighbor on “Anna Lisa”. Amazing that the old Danish salt went out to save him in those conditions. He ought to be given a medal. The Japanese boat ended up the rocks. It was sickening for me to watch. I am anchored furthest to the north and the fleet had me relay the info as I was the only one who could see what was happening. She dragged and then laid on her starboard beam and took pounding wave after pounding wave until a power boat motored out in that horrible weather to pull her off the causeway and into the protected waters of the marina. We were all exhausted by the time the drama was over. I closed the hatches and dropped in my bunk.

I awoke this morning to find that not only had they stolen my outboard (again) but this time my dinghy with it. When Preben heard my radio transmission to the fleet he found his was gone too. They cut thru the heaviest cable I could make and made off with it in the worst conditions knowing that I wouldn’t hear a thing.

Another cruiser loaned us his. Everyone else has been very supportive. We filled out police forms, but nothing will come of it.

I’ve made a decision. I anchored here to save money. This is going to be over a $2000 expense to replace what was stolen. As my friend Eric says, “Penny wise and a pound foolish.” It would have been cheaper to pay for 5 months on a mooring ball at the Balboa Yacht Club then to have my stuff ripped off. Hindsight is always 20/20, but now I know. I’m moving the boat over there. I’ve paid for one night at a dock and never a night on a mooring since I left 8.5 months ago, but the streak is about to end. It just isn’t worth saving the money.

On the bright side – I no longer have to worry about the leak, the temperamental Mercury, and how to protect it in a storm. It’s only money and I’m alive and can still smile.

How was your day?

Panama - "Just the Facts Juan"

It’s fitting to begin this tale with the history of the Panama Canal. It is, after all, the reason this country exists in the first place. The French started the canal in 1880, and in typical French fashion they surrendered to disease (note the paltry figure of 22,000 dead workers), the jungle, mud slides and the enormity of the project (they make good coffee presses though), and the US took over in 1904. 

Why 1904? Good question. Let’s look at the birth of a nation. Panama got their independence from Spain in 1821. That's a little deceiving because they weren't really a country until 1903. That’s the year they seceded from Colombia when Teddy Roosevelt propped them up with a human puppet because he wanted that canal to happen. That’s who his quote, “He might be a bastard, but he’s our bastard” refers to. 

 The canal took the US 10 years to complete, so in 1914 the first ship passed through. The locks raise the vessels 86 feet above sea level, and then lower them 86 feet back to sea level once on the other side.

* More bird species live in Panama then in all of North America *

They call their currency the "Balboa" but it's the US greenback dollar. Not a facsimile - the exact bill. They've been using it since 1904. They have, for some confusing reason, created their own coins though. They are exactly the same size, weight and value as ours but with a picture of Balboa on them. However, our coins are used too, so both are in circulation. It’s a little silly. 

Now, who is this Balboa guy and why is he on a coin? Vasco Nunez de Balboa – In 1501 he “discovered” the Pacific Ocean (I’m not even going to comment on that). I do think building statues to him and putting his image on coins is tantamount to the American Indians praising Columbus though. He sailed for Spain, and he slaughtered lots of locals. Pizarro, who came after Balboa and actually beheaded him, killed all the locals, I mean ALL the locals. Then he slapped himself on the forehead and sheepishly said, “That was stupid. Now I have to get slaves from Africa. Damnit!” Before we were the global bad guys, it was the Spanish and they stole tons of gold and silver from Peru and it all passed through here. 

Moving right along – we now have gold, silver, a thin isthmus and lots of mariners ready to take a chance. Yep, that means PIRATES (and no, that’s not the Japanese pronunciation of Pilates). 

Pirate History – 

In July of 1668 the English Pirate Henry Morgan (technically he was a Buccaneer but who’s counting) took all of Portobello which was the Spanish stronghold on the Caribbean side of the Isthmus. He held it ransom and threatened to burn it to the ground unless the Spanish in Panama paid up. They paid up. Then in 1671 he marched with his Pirate army across the jungle from the Caribbean side to the Pacific side (Is this geography lesson starting to make sense? You can always look at map) and defeated a Spanish army of 1600 soldiers. Then, through torture and every other means conceivable he extracted enough silver and gold to load 175 mules as well as capturing 600 prisoners. He marched it all back to the Caribbean side and sailed home to Jamaica & a hero’s welcome. As for Panama; he super sacked it. Biggy fries, and all the rest. Torched it to the ground. Gone. In fact - Panama Vieja is where the city used to be (Cool archeological site). 

When they rebuilt it, they did so miles to the west where I’m anchored today. Side bar – Actually, in 1573, after a couple huge failures, Sir Francis Drake (he wasn’t a “sir” yet) hit Nombre De Dios, which was near Portobello, and took a booty of over 15 tons of silver and gold. 

* Like the US, they have a president but unlike the US they have 2 vice presidents * - (Heart attack insurance) 

Casco Viejo is one of the most interesting neighborhoods here (where they rebuilt Panama City a couple years after Morgan paid his visit). It thrusts it’s bull neck out into the Pacific with the ancient Presidio walls. It’s dangerous and half deserted, but the reward for walking it’s streets are glimpses into the far and recent past. It’s some of the oldest that the new world has to offer (You should see this before it’s all turns into condos and coffee shops). 

* Nearly a 3rd of the country is protected habitat *

Let’s talk about Noriega – that pockmarked faced narco non rocker. The US came in here (Misnomer cuz we were already here. It was 1989. We controlled the Canal remember, but they love to call it an invasion, so who am I to spoil their history) under the catchy slogan “Operation Just Cause”, with guns blazing and smart bombs exploding. 

We cornered him in the Vatican embassy and then played Van Halen and Metallica for 40 days and 40 nights and it broke his will to traffic cocaine and commit murder. In fact, he surrendered after 10 days and is likely to be paroled next year. 

*Panama is the 2nd largest banking center in the world * 

 Party like it’s 1999! – In that year the US handed the Canal over to the Panamanians. Carter signed off on it back in ’77. With the US exit went lots of dollars and jobs and the economy is still reeling from it. “Yankee go home” is fun to say, but costly. 

* Hookers cost $10 * 

 List of famous Panamanians: Roberto Duran (manos de piedra) - the boxer who ate a steak after weighing in, and lost the championship to a tummy ache is Panamanian. So is Reuben Blades. He’s the minister of tourism, an actor and a Grammy award winning musician. 

I’m a guy at anchor who has his evenings free, and I live in Panama. 

Did you learn anything?

Capt Bobby

A Story For Terry Allen

I originally wrote this for my friend Terry but after I typed it I thought the rest of you might enjoy it.

Terry -

You're on a quest for the weird ones. This one might suffice. It has Germans and I know how we are both a little fixated on the Teutonics.

About 10 days ago I was in Benoa which is the great surf spot where I thought the sharks were going to eat me. On our second day there a big catamaran pulled in and anchored next to us. I met the lady as I walked down the beach. Her name is Star and she looks like an aging sorority sweetheart. Nice enough. Her husband Bruce I met moments later in the lineup. He's 46 and really ruggedly good looking. Total hunky dude. Great surfer from Santa Cruz. It’s impossible to speak in his presence as he interrupts constantly. He'll ask a question and then as you begin to speak he'll answer it. So, a little annoying but very likeable.

He tells me they are leaving for Ecuador the next day and that they have 2 German 20 somethings on board who are hippy street musicians. The Germans are hitchhiking to Ecuador and he needs the extra hands. Once on land I meet his blind long hair dachsund. His name is Mr. Rocky Balboa and Bruce talks to him all the time, and kisses him even more. It's the most ridiculous thing you've ever watched. "Oh Mr. Rocky Balboa, you want some of that hot surfer chick huh? Yes you do! Your not THAT blind." Then his wife gives him a dirty look and he says, "What? It's not me. It's Mr. Rocky Balboa. He wants that girl. Not me!"

And you think I'm immature.

We had the Germans over to Barraveigh for a bottle of wine and they groused about how insane Bruce is. "Ya, und he talks to zat hund all zee time. He can't be wiz a human. He operates on a dog level. He is not man. I tell you. He is not."

We left to come to Balboa and they left to go to Ecuador. Most boats check into a cruisers net on the SSB at 9am. They give the weather report and boats in distress can get advice and help. Sure enough, Bruce comes on. He sounds composed but you could hear the stress and the howling wind. He'd been fighting a bitch of a storm for 24 hours and everyone was exhausted, cold, hungry and sick. One of the cruisers is a meteorologist and he advised Bruce to head out to 82 and half degrees which was another 200 miles west, not really the direction he wanted to go.

The next day he comes back on the radio and sounds wiped out. He told me later that he called the Coast Guard back in LA on his sat phone and they had a ship within 100 miles ready to pull them off when he asked them to stand down. Star told me she was praying for her life with every breath. He tells the weather man he can't make any progress and is thinking about heading to Columbia. Everyone listening advises against it. One veteran cruiser advises him to turn around and come back to Panama. Colin and I realize we were probably the last to see them, so, who better to improvise a play than us. I take the role of the Germans and Colin performs Bruce.

Colin: "It looks terrible ahead. I can't decide. I don't know how much pounding we can take. The mainsail is . . . Oh Mr. Rocky Balboa, look at you. You're majestic. You little heartbreaker! I love you!"

Me: "Bruce, vat are you doing? You must stop licking zee dog's face and concentrate on zee matters at hand. Vee are in a crisis here."

Colin: "Ok. Ok. Here's what we're going to do. I've thought this through. We're going to go into Columbia for kibbles. Oh Mr. Rocky Balboa, you’re my little buddy. Yes you are! The Coast Guard has a child's harness that will fit you."

Me: "Bruce! I varn you - zis must stop! You are insane wiz zee dog love. Mr. Balboa is not human. He can't even see. Star vat can be done?"

You get the idea. This entertained us for 20 minutes and we broke into it at random throughout the day.

They fought that storm for 5 days and finally made it back here. The Germans flew out the same day.

Am I still the same insensitive bastard I've always been, or am I maybe just learning to see humor in the midst of danger?

2 Near Misses - Same Day

Poco Loco is a 30 foot Catalina from LA skippered by the 74 year old Jerry and his lamb looking dog Sparky. Yesterday, in 25 knots of wind he started dragging towards the breakwater. Colin and I jumped in the dinghy and raced over to help. Colin went aboard and helped raise and then lower the anchor and Jerry got his umbilical cord replanted in terra firma. Safe, and only 200 yards from the rocks! We were heroes for helping. Little did I know what would happen the next day.

Colin got off the boat yesterday morning to go back to the States. He is an earth dwelling mammal once again. Come back anytime “Chef Evin”.

After we hugged goodbye and his cab pulled away I felt the first drops. I dinghied back to Barraveigh just in time to shut the hatches and roll down the dodger. The winds came up real fast out of the south. The boat was pointing east. The currents and the tides often don't allow the boats to point into the wind. She was heeled over almost to the point of having her port hatches in the water. She straightened herself out soon but not before the main sail had been completely deployed from the wind catching it sideways (I will from now on always make sure the clutch break is engaged. Live and learn). I was dragging anchor in 60 knot winds. Only one boat didn't - "Anna Lisa" from Santa Barbara. I started the engine and powered forward to stay off of her. Her skipper and I shouted at each other over the winds. 60 knots - he told me later that that's what his wind indicator clocked. That's my new record. I was in 40 for days off Nicaragua with the boys but never 60 and alone. I stood at the wheel for an hour turning Barraveigh away from Anna Lisa until I was sure the anchor had reset. I was freezing cold. I’d forgotten what that was like. I guess I’ll quit complaining about the heat. It took a pot of coffee and 2 bowls of soup to get back to normal. That was exciting! Glad it's over. Sun and goodness after, with the radio chattering away about who ended up where and what just happened. And then the winds turned 180 degrees and came right back at us. Only 25 knots the second time.

I'm glad the bimini held. I wasn’t sure it would. It looks like a patch quilt with all the pieces of fabric I’ve glued over rips. Some things are no longer pretty but it’s still in one piece after that attack. You should have seen the dinghy jump around. A couple times the bow shot up, the wind blew it higher and I was expecting it to flip upside down. Fortunately that never happened. I locked the cable around the engine handle so I could retrieve it if it did.

It was a beautiful afternoon though, and I got a lot of work done. By 10:30 I was exhausted and climbing into bed when I saw lights off my starboard side.

"Huh, didn't notice that boat before. Wait, those are nav lights. That guys coming right at me!"

I ran up on deck with a flashlight. He saw my frantic waves and altered course immediately. Another 12 – 15 seconds and he would have cut me in half. I’m looking at the vessel now and it’s about 150 feet with full fishing nets - one of my beloved shrimp boats. There's no way I would have lived through that collision. How did he not see my lights?

Today the sky is blue and I'm heading off to shop with my new friend Ricardo. Glad I made it out of Wednesday.

Casualties

1.) My waterproof camera is not so waterproof. It quit working, but I think it could resurrect if I could just dry it out. It's hard to dry it out when you live on a boat in the tropics during the rainy season. Colin dunked his digital camera and it's dead too. Fortunately we both have back up digitals.

2.) The red kayak wondered off in Benao. I'm sure the new owners are treating her well. She was a good vessel and served us stupendously through many landings and launchings. She hauled provisions and trash, shot the rapids with ease and once I even set the stern anchor off her rounded big bottom. She was my "go to gal" for the 2 months when I didn't have an outboard (remember those Philistine days?) She'll be missed. Maybe the $100 reward will generate an email but I doubt it.

3.) Colin lost another year. Today is his birthday. The real loss here is that I have only a few more days with my friend. I've raved about him for years and I'm fortunate I was able to have his company for the months that I did. Hopefully, when his bank account is refilled and his adventure flame is rekindled he'll jump back on board, until then, he'll be missed.

We are in transit between the Perlas islands and Balboa (Panama City), however we are going to make landfall in about 2 hours at one final island close to the mainland called Tobago because we heard there was a good Chinese restaurant there and Colin deserves to be given a break from the galley on his special day (besides, the provisions have been reduced to mangoes, potatoes, and a final bottle of bad red wine). We can already see the skyscrapers of the mainland in the distance. After so long in the islands hopping from crystal clear anchorage to pristine jungle settings I imagine it might be a wee shocker to enter a major population center again, so we have postponed it for one more day. I have to admit, I am looking forward to ice cream and a movie theater.

I’ve been dreaming of new batteries since my heady days back in the Dirty P. Seems so long ago and now they are only 15 miles away. I started this trip with 380 amp hours. For the last 4 months I’ve lived on 40. The lesson might be as simple as this; what we think we’ve lost, we may have never needed.

Casualties? I wonder.

Radar - AKA: The Palindrome Log Entry '06

Radar (1st Palindrome) - My new favorite gadget. Once we rounded Punta Mala & entered the gulf of Panama we were never out of sight of at least 9 ships. Ship? It seems there should be another word for vessels this large. This is the canal zone. They stand in line for 2 weeks to get through the locks. Once they do, they waste no time. They're moving at speeds that approach 25 knots. Trust me - that's fast! The word "freighter" still sounds too small. The bow and stern lights were so far apart I was sure that I was looking at 2 different boats. Nope. Thank you radar for telling me how far away those behemoths were and what direction they were bearing down upon. It got a little scary at 3 in the morning and I now love radar.

Madam, I'm Adam (2nd Palindrome) - Once we dropped the hook at Isla San Jose it was as if we'd found Eden and we were the only people on the planet again. We watched the electrical storm light up the sky for at least 2 hours. At 1am I had to pull the sun shade because the flashes were so bright and often. Not a full 2 seconds went by without the sky lighting up. I've never seen anything like that. No thunder though. Really strange. The coming of the apocalypse?

A man, a plan, a canal, Panama (3rd Palindrome. Courtesy of Mike Ryder: The King of Irvine) - I love this country. We sailed with a whale escort for about a half hour. He was never more than 30 feet away. Ask me for the pictures when you come to visit. The exhale sounds like a trumpet miss, and makes you kink your neck to see the massive thing slide by right next to you. Tiny dorsal fin though. I wonder if he got hazed for that little thing.

I could stay here a long time,

Bob (Final Palindrome)

Surf & Mozzies

Benao Bay will be on surf maps some day, but fortunately for me it isn't yet. I have been pruned the last 2 days cuz I just can't get out of the water long enough to dry out. There's a little cantina that serves, what else - rice and fried fish, right on the beach with nothing else but perfect "A frames" up and down this beach break. It works best at middle tide, which is fast approaching so this isn't going to be a long email.

Last night I stayed too long and the sun dropped on me. Colin was already back on the boat and I wasn't looking forward to the very long paddle with exhausted arms. As we stood on the beach reliving our victories in the water the local surfers all thought I was crazy for paddling back after dark with all the sharks in the water. "Sharks? That's a joke right?"

They assured me it wasn't. The mozzies made up my mind for me as I stood at the waterline just knowing that "death by eaten alive" was out there awaiting me. Barraveigh was about 1/4 mile away. That's a long time in the water. I'm being eaten alive standing here anyway so to hell with it, I'm going.

I made it past the breakers to the calm water, every stroke a giant splash of green bio luminescence that must have been the aquatic equivalent of clapping cymbals together. Every shark must now be snickering. God I hope it takes me fast. Will it be an arm or a leg? Maybe he'll clamp on to my side and they'll be able to tell the size of the beast from the teeth marks in the board. There! - those are my stern lights, I'm close. Oh man, don't bite me now. Don't bite me now. Feet on ladder and I'm in!

Colin counted 40 mosquito bites, zero shark bites.

07 11.202 by 080 46.339

This is the extent of my southern reach. I've just made the gradual turn northward as Colin and I motorsail around the Peninsula De Azuero, enroute to Panama City (Balboa is the port). We'll be there in less than 2 weeks. First we need to stop at a few more surf spots and then hit the Perlas islands in the Gulf of Panama.

We spent a night at Isla Cebaco after dropping Suzi off in Santa Catalina (miss you heaps snoozie). Then 2 nights anchored off Punta Naranjo which the cruiser guide guaranteed was a "swell less anchorage". Horse pucky. Very rolly but the kayaking around the rocks was the best we've had. We went through a waterfall into a cave were we beached the kayaks and giggled about how cool this was, and how maybe no one else in the history of the world had ever stood inside this cave behind this waterfall (I play that headgame on myself all the time). Then we giggled harder when we thought about our escape and how one large errant wave would fill this cavern and kill us quickly. Next was "shooting the rapids". I was in the long blue kayak, which is usually a disaster in tight corners, but I got lucky with the timing, and the speed of it's longer waterline pulled me through where Colin ate it, and then ate it again. No injuries except a bruised pride and a lost pair of sunglasses.

We hacked open a couple coconuts and paddled back to the boat to eat the hockey puck muffins Colin baked. At least he tried.

Everything about Panama is better than Costa Rica except the beer. The prices and the rain are about half of what they are in CR. The coastline is much more interesting with less people. The water is clearer and the sea life more abundant (saw my first whale since Mx yesterday). And, get this - all my clothes are suddenly clean and no longer need ironing! Isn't this place great! Nah, my clothes are filthy but you can't blame Panama for that. I'm a messy eater and I play hard.

World Cup in Pixvae

To watch the World Cup in a Latin country is something special. To watch it in a third world Latin country in REALLY something special. We watched the first half yesterday in a school and the second half under a tin roof while the generator rattled in the shed next door. The kids sat on coconuts and the rest of us on plank benches. Everyone took turns walking to the bar and buying the big whale beers to share. This was some family’s backyard. It's against the law to drink in the school building so backyard TV's with generators allowed imbibing while watching. It was a rich experience.

Here's how the Hispanics pick a team to support:
1.) Their own country
2.) The next closest country
3.) Any country that speaks Spanish
4.) Any country that speaks Portuguese.

After that they don't much care.

Pixvae is a great example of unspoiled Central America and how poor yet happy a people can be. Tourism doesn't exist here. The islands get all the top billing so the crowds skip this little pueblo. There are no restaurants. You just mention that you're hungry and soon someone finds someone who is willing to cook for you for a couple bucks. You get a couple starches and there is always fish but rarely carne, and of course it's all fried. The real treat is being invited into their house to eat at their table. There aren't any real shops to buy provisions from but someone always knows someone who sells canned goods and maybe drinks out of their house.

The beach and bay are gorgeous from a distance but once upon it the plastic pollution is overwhelming. They just can't stop littering or showing cruelty towards animals. It's really hard to muster sympathy when you see that on a daily basis, and from people who have otherwise proved themselves to be proud and loving.

These island chains just keep getting better. Parida was amazing. The Secas are an underwater dream (we touched bottom and had a bit of excitement at 3 in the morning as we ditched the anchor to head for deep water. We returned later in the light of day and retrieved it). Isla Brincanco in the Contreras group had the clearest water I've yet seen on this trip and 7 waterfalls. Colin paddled through one into a cave that was behind it. I chickened out. We are now underway for Bahia Honda which has an island smack in the middle with 3 cantinas, should be another fun night. After that it's Coiba. Look it up. So far, Panama is shaping up to be my fav.

Happy 4th

I spent the day on a sailboat with an English citizen. We got along quite well until I tossed her tea into the bay (Great idea Mom!).

2 nights ago twin shrimp boats anchored in this bay and commenced to having a fiesta like only hard working third world fishermen can. The sounds of rejoicing and the hope for shrimp were overpowering. We tumbled into the dinghy with a bottle of white wine and dinghied over. Within minutes we had 3 gallons of shrimp and were headed back to Barraveigh. Fortunately we saved a cold bottle for ourselves and gobbled buttery garlic shrimp until our stomachs were about to pop.

At around 2pm on consecutive days we've watched the squall line march towards us at astounding speeds. Once spotted you have about 10 minutes to prep the ship for the 25 knot winds that threaten to take your wardrobe to sea. The rain comes down in sheets and visibility drops to about 20 feet. The lightning crackles so close and seems to last so long that all becomes perfectly visible again, if only for flashes. We got some good video of this. Glad to be at anchor with a 45 lb CQR and plenty of chain on the bottom. Not so glad to have a 60+ foot mast that seems to me to be the areas best lightning rod.

We are leaving today for the Secas. These are a group of islands that are supposed to be a surfer's dream. I'll let you know. After that it's Isla Coiba - more of the same.

Panama!

We crossed the border as we rounded Burica point at 1:30 in the morning. Colin was asleep in the vee berth and the engine was running, so he never knew that I cranked Van Halen's Panama as loud as I could. First new country in 3 months. I've been here now for 5 days and I have a few impressions:

1.) The Ticos are flat out thieves and the Panamaniacs are first rate swindlers. They feel entitled to your money. They will never give change unless you demand it, not ask, demand. Entering their country was nothing short of a con. 5 offices, endless back and forth paperwork designed to break you down so they can slap you with another erroneous charge. I paid for a quarantine inspection that never happened, a buoy that doesn't exist, an after hour charge (it was 9 in the morning), 2 zarpes, a cruising permit and the privilege of anchoring (anchoring has always been free) in their filthy water. Then an additional $10 for land access. Such a sham.

The people are great though.

2.) They use American money. Fun to handle the old green bills.

3.) They are 1 hour off Costa Rica so that makes them the same as East Coast time. It's like going on daylight savings when you cross the border. The sun now sets at 7. That's a plus.

4.) Everything is much cheaper. Breakfast for 2 is $2.50, beers and cocktails in a bar are 50 cents, diesel is 60 cents a gallon less than CR.

I met Suzi 2 days ago in David and we set sail this morning for Isla Parida. Check it out on Google Earth. Looks amazing. We just landed a big eye tuna with enough meat to feed 6 hungry people, watched the dolphins swim off the bow and am now enjoying the new music she brought.

Today is another mile marker. It's July 1st and it was 1 year ago that I moved out of 802 Dover Court and into Barraveigh. I've officially been a liveaboard for 1 year now.

Here's the Plan

It's 2 in the morning as we lay at anchor off the beach that is known world wide as Pavones. I never sleep well when it's a lee shore and the swell slapping against the stern doesn't help a bit. The saving grace is the starry sky ablaze and the unique crackling of the briny shrimp that I can hear through the hull.

We left Golfito yesterday morning with 2 working outboards, full fuel and water tanks and food to last a week. We'll spend the 25th surfing this incredible break and cleaning the bottom. Then we’ll do a night run around the point into Puerto Armuellas, Panama. I'll spend the 26th and 27th wasting my time trying to buy the correct batteries (see how the 3rd world has beaten the optimism out of me when it comes to batteries?), and the 28th putting them in. Then on the 29th I plan to take a series of buses to David to meet my London Detective Suzi for 2 weeks of cruising the Panamanian islands and Pacific coast. I've been told that the water there is the clearest on the whole Pacific side of the Americas. Can't wait!

Who among you has surfed Pavones? It's my all time new favorite. I've heard people talk of it for years and the closer I got, the more vivid the stories about dropping in and surfing this left until your legs burn, then getting out of the water and walking back down the beach to paddle back out to the drop in point. It's all true. I got more ride time in 2+ hours yesterday then I did the rest of the month combined. And the best part - no one else in the water. Pavones is billed as the longest left in the world and last week the swell was at a 5 year high with big wave surfers from Hawaii flying in for it. Yesterday it was 4 foot and clean and I had it all to myself. Perfection. This place is so remote that it's virtually deserted but it won't last. Get here soon before the hotels go in.

Colin has been a huge help in prepping this boat for the next leg; his final leg. He has a house in Bellingham, WA and some tenant issues. That, and a travel kitty that is thinner than he expected are cutting short his trip on Barraveigh. We still have the journey to Panama City together and the path is clear for him to rejoin in the future. He'll be missed but the ride isn't over yet.

Golfito

The Osa Peninsula is nearly devoid of humans. Frogs and jungle still rule this badlands of Costa Rica, that, and this unremitting rain.

After a couple nights in Drake Bay we motored the 12 miles to Isla Cano since the wind was right on our nose. Very clear water but the surge was too much to consider diving. We departed just before sunset with strong winds at our back. This was to be my first night passage in over 2 months. It all comes back, just like riding a bike. I wrote up the watch shifts (Claudia took a seasickness pill and slept for 15 hours) and posted them on the bulkhead. 2 hours on, 2 hours off. The wind built through the night, at 20 knots we began to reef. Every 7th wave or so a big one would role in and I'd smile at my preventers, keeping us safe from the accidental jibe. It poured rain on and off and I changed from wet to dry (dry is a relative term now) every 2 hours as I went from bunk to helm.

It's interesting, to me, the conditions that I live under. An alien with a light on their forehead pulling me from sleep with a tug on my foot and the words, "You're up", don't seem as strange as they did 6 months ago. We exchange info quickly so that we can get back to our bunks; "I've got one boat right there, the depth is getting more shallow which confirms our position on the chart, the wind seems to be trending down a bit after hitting 25. I reefed the headsail a bit more while you were asleep so you might want to let it out if the wind continues to drop. There's some soup on the stove if you’re interested. See ya in 2 hours".

- In the middle of that last sentence I had to stop and batten down all the hatches. The wind kicked up and the solar panels went from 9.5 to 1.5 when a squall blanketed me at anchor. It's blowing sideways so I can't even keep the vertical hatches open. This is when I become a total shut in. No ventilation, and muggy as hell. At least the bugs go home. But what about the monkeys? I've seen them sitting in the rain, defeated. I empathize. -

We dropped the hook in Golfito at 07:51 on the 7th. Flattest anchorage I've had since the penal colony back in the Golf of Nicoya. God I love flat anchorages. We spent the day reconnoitering the town. Charming, with loads of personality. I'm going to like it here. The next day after taking a paddle, Colin and Claudia left to explore the country. He’ll return in 10 days to help me with the projects we need to complete before the next leg into Panama.

The immediate lurch I found myself in was that there was air in the fuel line of the generator after we changed the fuel filters. I have no manual for this diesel and needed time and another head to help me trace and then figure out how to bleed the air. Ok - I'm resourceful. I went to the internet place. No joy. I went to the most expensive yacht club with a hunch and a bit of knowledge from past yacht clubs.

There sat my targets. I may not be a diesel mechanic but I can be pretty charming when I have to be, and everyone loves the moxy of a man alone, on a sailboat asking for help. Yep - a couple of Brits, one Scottish and the other from Brighton (Yea Suzi!) who knew everything about anything nautical took up my cause, launched the dinghy from the 2 million dollar yacht they were delivering. They buzzed me over to Barraveigh and had those lines bled and the generator purring in no time.

Later that night I bought the drinks. Fortunately I paced myself and had a very productive day today. Changed the oil in the generator, cleaned up the spilled diesel from yesterday, wrote up notes on how to do it on my own the next time, and watched a good movie entitled Cinderella Man. I feel a little like the comeback kid myself right now. It gets hard sometimes. Sometimes I'm lonely, homesick and overwhelmed with all the projects. Sometimes I want to quit. Then I win a little victory, or notice the way the clouds sit on the hillside jungle after a rain, or think about a fighter like James Braddock, and I know I can do this. I will do this.

Not all Paradise

I gotta tell you, sometimes I: want to quit, want to drink it all away, want to sail across all the oceans at once and get this over with.

Now, on the other hand - I understand that this goal is larger than climbing Everest and there is nothing easy about that. So, can I suffer? Am I willing to suspend my immediate wants and desires? Will holding the end goal in my mind get me thru? Dunno.

This goddamn rain is incessant and it depletes my frontier spirit to the point of nearly screaming. I have no previous experience with this. It beats back my jovial mood and undermines any ambitious aspirations I might have had.

I'll get thru this. This is the test. I signed up for this. Just know that it ain't all hibiscus blossoms, charming monkeys and gorgeous sunsets.

I'm growing tired of this. Sometimes I feel worked out. The beauty is still there but it's in punctuation marks. Not full time. I have to turn this around. I gotta go the distance. I'm committed but I want it to be enjoyable.

I cut a tendon in my left hand while shucking oysters. It’s swollen and achy and barely functional.

I drink too much. Am I rising above or am I sinking beneath? Am I becoming actualized or a shadow of myself? Where is the grand awakening reward of POW! - Wisdom, Serenity, Zen? Have I missed something? How do I do this for 5 years?

Here is the mantra that helps me pull out of the funk.
This is the trip of a lifetime.
I have learned more in 6 months than I ever thought I could. You thought your freshman year at the University was an eye opener? Ha! You didn't have any idea. Nor did I.
I will suffer indignities and I will forge ahead.
I will experience beauty and knowledge beyond any that I had ever expected and I will share it the best I can.
I will continue.

I miss everything at this point, but this point will end.

Shuck & Jive

As I write this we are underway for Drake Bay. The "me", became "we" on May 29th when I reunited with Colin in Quepos. He had just met up with his Italian girlfriend Claudia in San Jose and after provisioning the boat with all needed components for great Italian fare we dinghy'd over to Playa Biesanz. I'd found this idyllic anchorage a few days before and have been honing my skills at harvesting oysters, calle margaritas (warm water abalone) and even conch. I introduced Colin to the rock piles I knew about at low tide and we filled bags full of fresh shellfish. Back on the boat the Italian cooked (Next time you make a pasta sauce with pesto add some peeled potatoes to the boiling noodles. It dissolves and thickens around the pasta. Neat trick courtesy of our Italian chef.) and we shucked oysters. A great existence and a great homecoming for Colin after being gone for 2 months (missed ya guy).

Yesterday while underway to Bahia Uvita and cleaning the conch, a large mahi mahi set off our handline alarm (a gatorade bottle with rocks in it), and the fight was on. We landed the 3 footer and we went to work taking the meat off and preparing shashimi (we still have wasabi and soy), ceviche, and for dinner baked dorado. A great day on the open ocean.