Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Honduras – February 19–29, 2016


For anyone interested in off the beaten path travel here's a report on our time in western Honduras. Though the Bay Islands of Caribbean Honduras are very popular with sailors, western Honduras is so not a Gringo Sailing Trail destination that one can become a minor sailing celebrity just by being (a) extranjeros (foreign) and (2) on a sailboat. Here's a report on our short time as (very) minor sailing celebs . . . and, as an added bonus, a report on an Adventure in Anchoring. 


Isla El Tigre – February 19 – 22

In their “bible” of Central American cruising guides, Explore Central America – Part 1, the crew of s/v Sarana describes the Honduran island of El Tigre in the Golfo de Fonseca as “. . . a picture perfect base if you’re an evil genius or perhaps just a CIA operative.”

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Isla El Tigre


And while we don’t think any James Bond style evil geniuses have ever used this island as a base it was used by the CIA. In the 1980’s during the U.S. government’s support for the right-wing militias (contras) working to overthrow the democratically elected Nicaraguan Sandinista government, there was a CIA observation / communications post at the top of the island. 

 
          How We Got To El Tigre

First we had an eight hour / eight nautical mile sojourn from Isla Meanguera, El Salvador to the Playa Grande anchorage at Isla El Tigre, which went something like this:
  • 09.50, anchor up at Isla Meanguera;
  • motor eight nautical miles through choppy and shallow (26 feet in spots) water;
  • 12.30, anchor down off the public pier at Amapala on Isla Tigre;
  • flag down a lancha (the Central American term for a panga) for a ride to shore;
  • sign in with the Port Captain and get cleared through immigration;
  • arrange for the guide hanging out at the pier to take us on a tour of the island the next day;
  • get some lempira (1L = approx. 5 cents; $1 = 20 L) from the island’s one cajero (ATM);
  • pick up a map from the tourist office (where they already knew we were from the sailboat in town);
  • buy some fruit from some street-corner vendors and a gallon of drinking water from the biggest store on the island (need a couch or pair of pants with that purified water?);
  • arrange for a return lancha trip; 
  • anchor up and motor through the chop to the west side of the island; and
  • 16.10: anchor down at the somewhat calmer anchorage of Playa Grande.

[Confession and Travel Tip: We may have irreparably skewed the island’s lancha prices. We arrived without any lempira or small denomination U.S. currency. It seemed more prudent to hire a lancha to shuttle us to shore given the windy and choppy conditions and the very rough looking local pier (we feared for the life of our dinghy). However, we mistakenly hired what turned out to be a stinky fishing lancha piloted by a not-fully-accredited 14-year old. We paid $5 (our smallest bill) for the one-way trip, thinking that was better than having to take a return trip with him. The word quickly spread that really stupid, crazy-rich gringos were in town. When we tried to hire a lancha to return us to Abracadabra a real shouting match erupted on the pier – everyone wanted a chance to make $5! To avoid grossly over paying like we did consider (1) bringing lempira or small denomination U.S. currency with you (though good luck finding lempira before you get to Honduras) or (2) arriving on a calm day and deploying your own dinghy (don't forget fenders - the town pier is very rough and see (1) because you will likely want to tip someone offering to watch your dinghy).]

 
          Life At El Tigre

We anchored for three nights at Playa Grande. The anchorage was calm and the restaurants were closed at night, so our only evening entertainment was the singing and fiery sermon emanating from the evangelical church on the hill. 

On our first morning we took the dinghy to shore and had the perfect beach landing experience for people as out of practice as we (our last beach landing was probably at Acapulco in 2014!). The surf was very gentle and we were met by a fisherman/restaurant waiter who agreed to keep watch over the dinghy while we toured the island in Carlos’ moto-taxi (the tour is described below).

On our second day Bryce rowed the dinghy to shore and left Molly to face one of her deeply held cruising fears: a case of tourista + marine plumbing. Her case turned out to be fairly mild and was soon corrected but being left alone with her bottle of Pepto Bismol certainly made her recovery easier on both of us. Bryce spent his afternoon trying to politely ignore the group of gangsta-looking guys who took over the restaurant he had chosen for his mega-seafood lunch. They were shocked when he told them he preferred Frank Sinatra to their rap music and began to call him Mistah. Everyone parted amicably, but we don't think they'll seek Bryce out for future social engagements.

 
           The Island Tour 

The Island Tour was a 20+ kilometer drive along the road that circles the island. We began with a stop in Amapala where we saw the primary municipal buildings, some of which were architecturally charming.


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The Gargoyle Hotel
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Street Scene
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The Market and Moto-Taxis
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Municipal Building
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Cultural Center - A Pretty, But Gutted, Building

We spent some time in the main square – the source of free Wi-Fi for the island teenagers and the crew of Abracadabra:


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Captain Bryce, Checking Wi-Fi


We stopped at the miradores (direct translation: see outs) along the island’s ring road which offer spectacular views of the gulf.


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Carlos
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Us












From time to time our guide diverted from the main road to take us to a beach. A big component of his island tour was pointing out the different types of sand at the different beaches. We are sure a geologist would find that portion of the tour fascinating.


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One Beach - Light Sand
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Another Beach - Darker Sand


We stopped for a very good fried fish and fried green bananas lunch (don’t knock the green banana thing unless you’ve tried it!) at Playa Negra (with sand that didn’t quite live up to the negra (black) label but was darker than the sand of other beaches). The proprietress of the restaurant was kind enough to bring out the wooden-boxed mandolín that the cook used to slice the bananas; more 19th century Provençal than Williams-Sonoma.


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Playa Negra

We were disappointed to hear that neither the ruins of the CIA post at the top of the island or the remains of the U.S.-built heliport were part of the tour. Some tourist literature suggests that local trucks can drive to the top of the island, but Carlos told us that the only way to get there was to hike up the volcano. The tourist office map also showed access to the top of the mountain as a hiking trail and it was clear that Carlos’ little moto-taxi wasn’t going to make it beyond the main ring road, so we resigned ourselves to not seeing the observation point ruins on that particular day. The tourist office map didn't show the heliport location and when asked about it Carlos just waved vaguely towards . . . someplace. It didn't seem accessible to the public. In sum, his tour wasn’t everything we had hoped for but we enjoyed the day.


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Bryce's First Port Royal Export
(The Beginning Of A Wonderful Relationship)

As usual, our favorite part of the tour was the opportunity to learn about our guide. Carlos was happy to tell us about his work “up there” (aka the U.S.): demolition work in Baltimore and cooking and roofing in Denver. He liked cooking best and thought Denver was very clean and beautiful. He and some friends are planning another trip “up there” later in the Spring. We hope he uses some of his hard earned money to repair his moto-taxi’s transmission!

San Lorenzo – February 22 - 29

After three nights we left El Tigre and motored up the 24-mile long, clearly marked shipping channel to Honduras’ only Pacific port, Puerto Henecán. Our destination was the town of San Lorenzo, which we expected to be a very sleepy little backwater town.


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Honduran Navy

About one nautical mile before Puerto Henecán, we turned north-west off of the shipping lane. This turn is not marked; visiting sailors will benefit from good charts or waypoints from a cruising guide. We threaded our way through some mangrove swamps to San Lorenzo and anchored off a row of picturesque restaurants. Apparently in the last several years San Lorenzo has become less sleepy, and is now a popular day trip for visitors from the Honduran capital, Tegucigalpa. There are now three nice restaurants and a hotel on the waterfront and several other restaurants on the other side of the three-block "tourist zone".  


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San Lorenzo's Tourist Waterfront

           Edward – Our Man In San Lorenzo

Soon after our anchor was set we were greeted by Edward the local English-speaking lancha driver. Edward picked up English when he was a kid, swapping Honduran watermelons for U.S. military MREs (meals, ready to eat). His watermelon customers were there as support for the CIA on El Tigre. He had also met some of our sailing compañeros (apparently San Lorenzo sees a sailboat every three months or so) and purported to be well-versed in taking care of visiting sailors. We weren't completely convinced because his ability to bring his lancha along side Abracadabra in wind and current never really improved over our week's acquaintance.  

Edward arranged for water delivery (via horse drawn cart and then lancha). He found a driver to take us to the grocery store. He even arranged for the immigration officer to meet with us very early on our departure morning thus allowing us to leave at high tide. Molly sweetened the deal by baking the very nice officer some cookies as a thank you . . . ah, Central America - the land of purported bribery.



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Water Delivery

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Edward - The Man













We also relied on Edward to taxi us to shore almost every day. The tidal change in San Lorenzo is about 10 feet which would have called for some significant dinghy dragging up a muddy municipal beach. We took the lazy sailors’ approach and hired Edward’s Iancha. And as we saw more than one poorly anchored lancha swept off the beach by the changing tide we were happy with our choice.


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Lancha Beach At Low Tide

Edward also gained indirect benefits from Abracadabra’s presence in San Lorenzo. His primary job is taking national tourists on tours of the estuary and the nearby port. Abracadabra became part of his tour and on occasion we were celebrity passengers as he diverted his tour to take us to shore. Any time a tour passenger knew English they were very kind to talk to us and ask us where we were from.


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Honduran Tourists Waving To U.S. Tourists


Abracadabra became such a fixture that when Edward was touring DJ’s from a Choluteca radio station he talked us into letting them come aboard and dance on Abracadabra’s deck for the station’s videographer



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Dancing DJs

We took some video of the event but the station’s video is much better – and we like their soundtrack (though we are still trying to figure out what a flippergram is . . . ). Check it out on YouTube here!  We each received a La Bomba 103.1 t-shirt as a thank you. 

Edward’s greatest kindness was to send his charming ten-year-old son, Joseph, to assist Molly on her trip to the Port Captain in Puerto Henecán !


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Joseph (Right) and His Buddy


Bryce enjoyed talking to young Joseph (aka Neno) so much he gave the lad some binoculars that had been given to him when he was Joseph’s age – along with very explicit instructions on how to take care of them because they were muy viejo - uno antiguo (very old - an antique)! We hope Joseph enjoys them and that he watches the stars and looks at the moon as he said he would. Bryce’s suggestion that birds were fascinating to watch did not seem to interest him much.

[Travel Tip: Edward worked for tips and asked to be paid on departure. We became a sort of savings account for him. We decided to pay him $15 a day and then threw in the last of our lempira as we were leaving the country for a total of about 2,000 lempira or $100 for eight days.]

 
          Life In San Lorenzo

Most of our time ashore in San Lorenzo was spent at the tourist restaurants along the estuary, eating seafood, people watching and checking weather on the internet. But we did make a few trips into town.


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Parroquia and Fisherman Statue

We stopped into the parroquia (parish church) and walked through the main square. Our primary destinations were the Claro cell phone office in a failed attempt to purchase a data package and the local supermercado (a Despensa Familiar - Family Pantry – the same grocery chain we had used in La Herradura, El Salvador).

San Lorenzo was nicest in the cool morning as the horse-drawn wagons delivered water and the children were walked to school.

 
          Adventures in Anchoring

But even with all the help Edward provided not everything went smoothly for us in San Lorenzo.

We were very happy with our initial anchoring spot in the shallow (20 – 30 foot maximum) and narrow (roughly 150 yards) estuary. It was scenic and relatively quiet (there was a karaoke bar, but it was at a distance). For four days Abracadabra swung securely up and down the estuary on the changing tide, somewhat closer to the mangrove swamp on the south shore than to the scary-looking concrete piers of the restaurants and hotel on the north shore. Life was good.

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Anchorage One


And then the wind began to blow strongly from the north – one of the dread papagayo winds (called norteros by the locals) blowing out of the Caribbean. As we’ve said elsewhere, we don’t have a working wind speed indicator at the moment so we may be over estimating the speed of the gusts, but they were very strong and felt like 35+ knots to us.

Over several days of swinging in an ovoid pattern in response to the tidal changes the anchor chain had stretched to its full 100 feet and when the wind shifted and strengthened Abracadabra began to sail at the end of the full 100 feet of chain, toward the southern shore.

It was like a train wreck in very, very slow motion. 

We watched as Abracadabra sailed and swung ever - so - slowly toward the mangroves. We looked from the shore to the dropping depth gauge and back to the shore. We took turns looking at the electronic chart, measuring and re-measuring our distance from the line that represented the lowest depth in front of the mangroves. Was this what it was like to drag anchor? We didn't think we were dragging. Could we up anchor and motor to a deeper spot in this strong wind and against the current? That seemed problematic. At one point Molly went below and washed the lunch dishes – the sailing equivalent of making popcorn during the scariest part of the movie. 

And then, as we reached seven feet on the depth meter (Abracadabra draws 6’6”) the tide turned. Just. Deep. Enough.

Until the next day.

As the tide dropped again and the wind continued to push Abracadabra toward the mangroves we realized that she had swung just enough to be sailing toward a particularly shallow spot. Eventually she touched bottom. A muddy / sandy bottom – but bottom. Our first grounding. Not something we had been looking forward to. 

Afraid that now that Abracadabra's keel was touching the continuing strong wind would push her onto her side and cause damage, we decided that it was time to try to move. When the next high tide went slack, and we had only the wind to deal with, we raised anchor and motored into the wind to a new anchoring spot about a quarter of a mile further into the estuary.


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Anchorage Two

Right next to the 24-hour shrimp packing plant, the public pier . . . 


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Public Pier and Diving Platform

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Splash


and a disco. On Friday night. The wind dropped soon after we re-anchored so we decided to live with the disco . . . and there we remained until we left for Nicaragua.

We think the moral of our anchoring kerfuffle is to apply the “reef when you first think of it – it’s not going to get easier” rule to re-anchoring. Going forward we will likely re-anchor earlier rather than take the wait-and-see-how-bad-it-really-is attitude we applied in San Lorenzo. But then – we won’t know until we get there and things change, will we?


Next: At the Dock in Nicaragua. 

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Leaving El Salvador – February 16 – 19, 2016


Back On The Bicycle – A Few Words Of Experience

For sailors who have to be tied to the dock for some reason, here’s our word of advice: Get back "on the bike” (or “in the saddle” if you prefer that metaphor) a lot sooner than we did if you can! The 21+ months we went without sailing Abracadabra made for a steep learning curve. It’s not that we had forgotten how to ride the bicycle, necessarily -- we just didn’t enjoy the feeling that at any moment we might skin our knee! 

And if you haven’t been away from the dock for a long time, here’s some advice about "re-entry": Be kind to yourself when you find that you are undergoing an unexpected Exercise in Re-learning. It’s to be expected. To minimize the unexpected, here are a couple of preparatory baby steps we found invaluable:

  • We not only ran our newly rebuilt engine at the dock and while on the mooring ball, we drove Abracadabra up and down the estero for several hours. Putting the engine under a real load brought to light a couple of problems we were able to address before finding out about them . . . out there. (Even better would have been a couple of day sails/motors -- if we hadn’t been in an estuary guarded by a formidable sandbar entrance.)
  • We also put ourselves under a modified "real load” situation by spending two weeks on a mooring before making that first long trip. That helped us acclimatize to the swing and sway of Abracadabra’s “at anchor” movements – which isn’t the same as sailing, but is closer than being at the dock. It also forced us to rely on our dinghy for several weeks which brought to light a problem with our outboard engine that we were able to get repaired in a familiar environment. (And of course even better would have been a couple of overnight anchoring trips near to “home” – if we hadn’t been an overnight sail away from the nearest calm anchorage.)


In summary – don’t just untie from the dock and go. Dock neighbors of ours tried that and had to be towed back in a day later . . .

The rest of this post is about our first few days at sea and at anchor. Enjoy hearing about our re-entry process -- but please be kind enough to laugh with and not at us!

Departing Estero Jaltepeque (aka Bahia del Sol), El Salvador – February 16, 2016


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Captain Bryce - Motoring Out
Still Wearing His Port Captain Meeting Clothes


Departure began around 08.00 when Bill Yeargen and his trusty assistant Hiram cast Abracadabra off from her mooring. We motored to the dock at Bahia del Sol Hotel, quickly tied up and Bryce dashed off to finalize our governmental obligations: paying the $40 for our international zarpe (zarpe = the document that authorizes a boat’s transit) and getting departure stamps on our passports. All went smoothly in large part because the day before Bryce had provided the Port Captain a crew list and paid the fee for our stay in El Salvador (temporary importation privileges cost $30 for every month or part thereof). 

Molly handled our one planning snafu – laundry the hotel had returned to us the day before departure . . . unwashed. (Ugh. Nothing like starting a two week trip with an already large pile of dirty laundry festering in the basket under the bed.) Happily, on departure morning she was given clean clothes and sheets. She also paid our hotel tab: $46 = $16 for 16 pounds of laundry, the rest for three meals and about ten sodas/beers. The “cruisers club” at this hotel is a bargain.

At 09.15 we followed our compatriots on Attitude to the mouth of the estuary. As we talked through what we had lashed down and stowed away we realized that the auxiliary anchor was missing from its bracket on Abracadabra’s port side. We don’t know exactly when it went walkabout but believe it was while we were moored. An upsetting reminder to stow removable equipment whenever we leave the boat: if we don’t put it away, someone may take it away. Even, apparently in quiet and safe Estero Jaltepeque.

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Following Attitude


We motored slowly behind and watched as Attitude was guided across the sandbar entrance which had been living large in our memories since our accident there some 21 months before. 

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Surfin Safari -
We Didn't Have To Go Through This Surf,
We Were Guided Through The Calm Spot, Off Stage Left


At 09.40 Abracadabra crossed over the bar without incident, the newly rebuilt engine purring solidly.

 
To The Golfo de Fonseca – February 16 – 17, 2016


We motored out to pick up a SSE wind and took a deep breath, happy to have faced a personal demon.

And then we realized that we had lost a fender. Ack - that means we had gone across the bar, fenders flying!  [Non-sailor note: A fender is the inflated bumper guard tied to the side of a boat to prevent dock scratches. It’s very basic seamanship to stow fenders upon departure (e.g., San Francisco Bay sailors refer to Sailing With Fenders Out as Showing Off Your Marina Del Rey Racing Stripes).]  We don’t think anyone got pictures of our clownish departure but we can’t just cover the whole sordid story up because . . . someone already knows. Attitude radioed later in the morning to tell us they had picked up our floating fender! It’s nice to know it has found a good home. Clearly we were really distracted by the discovery that our secondary anchor had gone walkabout. That’s our story and we’re sticking with it.

Our overnight passage was mostly uneventful. We were happy to sail slowly because we didn’t want to arrive at our destination - the Gulfo de Fonseca, some 100 miles east - in the dark. [Non-sailor reminder: Abracadabra’s average speed is some 3 – 5 knots an hour; 7 knots an hour is racing!] We had a particularly lovely, gentle sail during Molly’s 22.00 to 01.00 watch.

At times we luxuriated in being able to rely on that amazing piece of 19th century technology: the diesel engine. Having a reliable engine came in handy particularly when, near 03.30 Bryce found himself passing through an area in which five large fishing trawlers were operating. They were clearly more interested in fishing than in accommodating a sailboat’s need to sail off the wind (sometimes we wonder if they even understand a sailboat’s directional limits). Bryce was happy to be able to start the engine and . . . get out of their way. 

[Side Note: If we seem somewhat vague about wind speed in this and future posts, it’s because the wind speed indicator stopped working a couple of months ago. Before this trip we didn’t think being without a wind speed indicator would be a problem. After all, sailors should be able to read the wind and know when to shorten sail (reef). What we didn’t think about was how difficult it is to read the wind when motoring – so by times we weren’t sure whether we could turn off the motor and sail. At times that made us rely on the engine longer than we wanted. At other times, we turned the engine off . . . only to find ourselves flailing about in winds too light to move Abracadabra along. Bryce thinks we will get better at making observational readings of wind speed over time. Or - we can just get the damned wind indicator fixed.] 

Golfo de Fonseca

Introductory Note: The Golfo de Fonseca is a large bay shared by El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua. It forms part of El Salvador’s eastern border, is Honduras’ only access to the Pacific and is part of Nicaragua’s north-western border. We wanted to visit this gulf, rather than shoot by on our way from El Salvador to Nicaragua, because it might be our one chance to visit Honduras by sea.

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Sunrise Over Nicaragua


We reached Punta Amapala, the western border of the gulf, near dawn. No trawlers this time, just dozens and dozens of unlit fishing pangas. Later, as we began to turn into the gulf we were reminded that several sailors had told us they had passed on the gulf because it was just “too hard to get in". By 08.00 the wind was on our nose. As we pushed on into the gulf the wind began to build and there was quite a bit of chop. It became so rough we didn’t like the looks of our planned first-night anchorage – the southern anchorage at Isla Meanguera, El Salvador which was reported to have good protection from north winds. It didn’t look all that protected to our re-training eyes.

We decided to try for Isla El Tigre, Honduras which is supposed to have calmer anchorages, but as we rounded the western shore of Meanguera the passage was completely blocked by nets strung by the local small-boat fishing fleet. Completely. Blocked. We decided that approaching the nets and waiving our arms to see if we could get someone to move them wouldn’t do much to make the world a better place, so we turned around and decided to give Isla Meanguera another try.

 
Isla Meanguera, El Salvador – February 17 – 19, 2016


We anchored at 13.15 in what felt to us like very bumpy seas and some rather unnerving northerly gusts. We decided to forgo our usual celebratory anchoring beer because it looked like we would be sitting an anchor watch. We have since decided that this anchorage is actually fairly well protected – it is just plagued by some unsettling sound effects. As the wind sweeps down the protective hills it builds and sounds a bit like the soundtrack of a “dark and stormy night” movie. A real testament to the psychological power of sound.

These unsettling sounds made us less than confident in our long un-tested anchoring skills, so we sat anchor watch; one of us dozing in the cockpit and checking some bearings every time the gusts rattled us. And in the morning – there we were, right where we had anchored. But tired. Very tired. [Another thing to re-learn: what it feels like to sail all night long . . . ]

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Lookin' A Little Tired There, Hon . . .
Try Some Lipstick, Maybe


After a calming pancake breakfast we decided we were unwilling to battle the northerly gusts to get to El Tigre on that particular day. Internet weather forecasts (yes, our new Iridium satphone worked!) showed promisingly light winds on Friday. We stayed and did a few boat projects and took naps. We didn’t sit anchor watch on the second night; we were beginning to get used to the howling sounds.

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Betsy Ross --
Mending Our Discourteous Looking Courtesy Flag


The anchorage wasn’t without its compensations. It is home to a small fishing fleet and we got to watch their comings and goings and mysterious shore lights in the night. On the morning we left the anchorage a panga with five polite fishermen approached to ask who we were and where we were from. Two of them spoke some English. They expressed amazement that there were only two people aboard (one of them a woman, no less!). Another line of questioning was how much we had paid for Abracadabra (this seems to be a theme with fishermen). Bryce side-stepped giving a figure, knowing it would be staggering to an El Salvadorian fisherman (even if totally underwhelming to any North American in the process of purchasing a sailboat). Bryce asked them if they had worked in El Norte and the two partial English speakers said they had been roofers “up there”; one had children there. They welcomed us to El Salvador and departed for work, leaving us to laugh about irrepressible human curiosity.

We also wondered about our little one-panga survey and whether in any random group of five Salvadoreño fishermen, two would have worked in the United States. We were saddened to think of the little children growing up “up there” with far away fathers.


Next post: On to Honduras and yet more re-learning!