Cental America
And Back
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We really aren't lost at all, we know exactly where we are. We left Banao in a blow. It did not look like we would see any relief from the big wind any time soon, so we hiked up our shorts and battened down the hatches and sailed out into a pretty decent blow. The weather gribs showed it becoming reasonable a few miles up coast. Weather reports were only accurate in that it blew hard from Banao, but it maintained 20+ knots on our beam for our entire trip around the cape. The waves were small although of mixed direction, so we kept one foot on the beach, so to speak, and it was a glorious sail.
These two photos (below) were actually taken on the other side of Punta Mala, before we rounded. We passed through at least 10 miles of this weird orangy colored ocean and who knows how wide it was. The water around Panama City had been highly phosphorescent, so it's possibly an extreme "red tide".
We slid into Naranjo Cove at least 4 hours earlier than predicted and we had that lovely landfall all to ourselves. Unlike the last time we were here (when squalls pounded us and the beach), the sun sparkled on the water and the beach called. We landed the dinghy in a small beach break and were glad we had left Daisy sleeping in the salon. One dog and dinghy were enough trouble in any shore break at all. But the water was "room" temperature and we threw ourselves onto the sand to drip dry. I pulled my camera out of it's water-proof bag and started up the beach to catch myself some tropical memories.
As I moved closer to the jungle's edge I could have sworn I heard voices. I moved more slowly, more nonchalantly, more alertly until my eyes found the shade of the palm trees. There in the coolness of the grass were two huge brown eyes watching me. The horse's eyes followed me as I walked around him. He had a handsome bridle and saddle on, both looking handmade with traditional accents and there was a long machete in a tooled and decorated leather sheath, and the non-stop voice was distinctly louder. I took a wide path around the pony and there, leaning on a trunk of a tree, was a cowboy talking on a cell phone. Of course.
After a while, he came out of the jungle canopy to meet us. His name was Deemo and he offered to serve us lunch at his Ranchero. It was really hard to say no, but we had to declin; as is often the case when the wind comes up we needed to return to the mother ship. We upped anchor after a rolly night and headed for Bahia Arenas to catch up on our sleep.
Another beautiful and remote paradise cove with a beach at least 5 miles long. There were a couple of small shacks here and there along the dark sand beaches, but the only sign of life was a panga with 3 fisherman who would wave each time they passed. But this cove was even rolly-er than the Naranjo. So after a day or two, we headed for the island of Cebaco and it's bay of Naranja (oranges are big around here). That's where we are now, sleeping well too. It's gorgeous here, a huge bay with white sand beaches on two sides and jungle cliffs on the third. There is only fishing charter boat permanently anchored here with us (as a main base). The cruising guide says it's a restaurant, but the guy on the boat says "no". They will sell you a coke at outlandish prices, as well as diesel.
We dropped our dinghy as soon we were confident of our anchor, but the outboard engine would not start. I had a spare carburetor stashed away for just such an occasion, although Dois wasn't convinced that was the problem. Nevertheless, he started there and while installing the spare, a 4 inch bolt that holds the part to the engine broke in two. Sheet, as Dois often says "we snatched defeat out of the jaws of victory". But, my un-handy guy (his description not mine) was able to make a jury rig out of a long threaded rod that he cut to size. It's not perfect, but when he was done, the outboard started right up. And what a joy the rest of the day was, both dogs got a ride to the beach. There is something magical about watching an old blind dog play in the water. She's a great swimmer still and I think more comfortable swimming that walking. But walk she did. She would walk a distance from us, then circle back to get her bearings. Then walk a little further and repeat the "mapping". She's a machine our little Daisy. And of course Ginger was in heaven, running circles around Daisy, digging holes in the sand, chasing crabs and splashing after pelicans. We could hear parrots squabbling in the jungle and Howler monkeys sounding off like godzilla and there were exotic butterflies everywhere. But the best part was it was a calm anchorage and we caught up on much needed rest.
Ashika is getting a low on drinks, as in none, except water. We didn't calculate that we would drink 3 times more than usual. We'd like to stay here forever, but water gets boring. We are planning on heading out tomorrow, or the next depending on weather, to the small village in Bahia Honda (they say Onda) to perk up our stocks and visit that large and lovely bay again. Peace.
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