Many many lifetimes ago I read a glossy
tourist magazine in a waiting room about 'The Bay Islands', and I
determined to go there one day.
That time came only two months ago, and
as in my earlier day-dream I was sailing my own boat, free to explore as
I chose. But it was much easier and more rewarding than the reality.
Leaving the idyllic Rio Dulce of
Guatemala and full of anticipation we set sail for the Bay Islands, a two day
sail close to the wind but a good forecast.
After 12 hours and dawn just breaking
we were a third of the way there when I felt the boat was very
sluggish. I went below to find salt water just pushing above the
cabin sole, yet no bilge alarm or pumps running. The main pump had
obviously failed, and the emergency pump would only work on manual
when it usually kicks in automatically. The Henderson hand pump came
to the rescue and after a couple of hours of frantic work we had
things under control -but where was the water getting in??
If the pumps failed now I knew we
wouldn't make it to Roatan so I turned Whakaari for the mainland of
Honduras. The closest port with facilities appeared to be Puerto
Cortez, so that was our new destination. As soon as we were within
VHF range I hailed the Port Captain and requested emergency
assistance. The response was immediate and professional, and in no
time we were being escorted to the anchorage, emergency bilge pumps
on standby, and a direct line to the Naval Base who had a travel lift
to get us out of the water.
By this time Jackie, my crew, and I had
had enough of manual pumping and stressing about water levels in the
bilge. After a 2 hour wait for the travel lift to be free, we earned
envious looks from another yacht that had been anchored off the naval
base for a week wanting to be hauled.
I was certain the leak must be a
gradual worsening of impacts to the hull from my run-in with a coral
head back in Mexico many weeks before.
So began our Honduras experience, on
the hard at a naval base in Puerto Cortez, going over every inch of
the hull, stern gland, sea cocks etc trying to work out why the
bilges had filled, and why the pumps hadn't activated. In brief, it
turned out the emergency pump had no vented loop or non return valve
and so had set up a self syphoning action that pulled more water back
into the boat than it pushed out, then the wiring failed as it became
saturated, due to corroded joints. The main pump had blown both it's
valve sets, the relays in the bilge for both pumps had failed, and
there was a fault in the fuse holder for the main pump up at the
switch board – all good stuff to find out in relatively safe
inshore conditions, and the point of having a shake-down cruise.
We took a cheap room at a nearby hotel,
and spent the three days on the travel lift doing a quick bottom job
– fibreglass repairs to the coral head impact area, a layer of
epoxy paint to the lower keel, and more bottom paint – Jackie
seemed to delight in getting old antifouling paint all over her, when
she wasn't ogling at the many virile young Navy men taking their
morning swims by the boat or working out nearby.
Back in the water ( in typical rush
rush Navy style) we set sail for the Bay Islands once more, having
picked up a back up bilge pump and float switch, and sorted a make
shift arrangement for the pumps until a full service kit arrived with
Annika.
The wind died almost immediately and we
were left with no choice but to motor sail through an uncomfortable
swell. BUT – the engine refused to turn over. Starter Motor! No
problem, I've got a brand new one in the spares locker. Pulling it
out of it's unopened packaging my heart stopped – completely the
wrong unit, too big, too many teeth on the sprocket, etc etc.
So there was no choice but to overhaul
the existing starter motor right there in the cockpit, tossing around
on the sea. Once re-installed the engine fired up and has been ever
since – tho I was holding my breath during the Panama Canal transit
recently – that would be a costly disaster, to have engine problems
and cause a big delay!
This latest event just added to my
concerns about heading out into the Caribbean Sea with unresolved
boat issues, so I decided to stay close in and head for a bay that a
cruiser also on the hard back at Cortez had recommended –
Escondido. He is a film maker and seems to have found some wonderful
places in Honduras, and we were happy to take his advice.
The slow progress meant we made our
approach into this tight deserted bay well after dark, and with no
moon, minimal details on the chart, and only a hand drawn sketch
from the film maker, I was totally reliant on radar and depth
sounder.
All worked out fine and in the early
dawn, woken by the deafening calls of Howler Monkeys, I could see we
were safely positioned in this beautiful pocket bay.
Our morning here was a delight, going
ashore to wander amongst palms and look out along the rugged
coastline, seeing the fishermen come and go in their cayucos, and
hearing the intense birdsong in such a natural harbour. It was only
when we left that we read in the cruisers guide that this bay was not
recommended to yachties as two boats were recently attacked here with
fatalities resulting!
The next day we arrived in Utila, the
first of the three main Bay Islands, anchoring in South East Bay and
dinghying in to explore the village.
Looking back, this was the nicest of
all the Bay Islands. The place is colourful, with a happy feel, and
everyone is very relaxed & friendly. It's a backpackers haunt,
popular for diving courses, so the visitor crowd is very young and
lively. Oh, and the Cinnamon Rolls are 'to die for'. There are lots
of bars and cafes along the waterfront where you just dinghy over
from the yacht and step up to your table.
On to Roatan, over some shallow coral
areas, past isolated shacks on rocky outcrops, we ended up anchoring
in a small hole of a bay to weather a blow, right at the end of the
airport runway. Its only redeeming feature was the friendly crowd of
kids who swam out and spent some time with us chatting and diving off
the stern ladder.
The next day we rented a taxi to look
around for somewhere interesting to sail and anchor -it was all a big
disappointment. The coast is a mess of fading industry or failed
developments, or its crammed with squid fishing fleets and mooring
facilities for cruise ships, with roads coming to a dead end at the
patrolled gates of another exclusive resort.
I did manage to find where I could get
some help from tradesmen, so we moved Whakaari from Coxen Hole to
Dixon Cove where they service the fishing fleet and the cruise ships
dock.
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Chong, a Nicaraguan, and a black Caribe just the spitting image of
Cuba Gooding Jnr dealt with tricky electrics – the float switch
repairs to finally (I thought) resolve my bilge pump issues, and my
temperamental SSB – turned out the microphone element had gone,
which Cuba fixed pronto.
Jackie, despite her undiagnosed back injury, got into the R&M as well.
After the unpleasantness of anchoring amidst fishing boats,
ferries and cruise ships we decided we needed a special treat so we
found Barefoot Cay resort, and indulged Whakaari with her own private
dock, and for us a poolside restaurant and beachfront cabin, complete
with hammocks.
Jackie left from there, back to a snow warning in Aspen, and I
moved to the quiet (
cheaper) location of Old Roatan Yacht Club,
a place once teeming with cruisers, but I found they'd been forced
out by rising prices and uninterested management. The anchorage is
now dominated by fishing fleets, and the water is filthy due to the
overcrowded shanties perched on the waters edge with no sanitation.
It is unbelievably hot and humid here, just breathing brings on a
sweat. The air is thick with smoke haze, and the wind is toasty warm
when it blows. The temps never seem to go above 35 but it seems twice
as hot with the mugginess. Running the aircon is essential to get rid
of all the moisture so I had Whakaari on shore power snug in a slip
with the Aircon full on – I was never impressed at having to leave
her cool interior to get wifi and attend to the never-ending list of
jobs.
Annika arrived via Mexico and mainland Honduras having had the
third degree from Customs en route as to why she only had a one way
ticket. She brought lots of treasures in the form of a bilge pump
overhaul kit, generator spares and a Central Americas chip for my
chartplotter and a new plug-in for my GPS.
With two paddleboards we were able to explore the Fantasy Island
area where all the cruisers seem to hang out, and we did a little
snorkelling, but really Roatan seemed to offer very little... It
didn't help that the trade winds were blustery and water visibility
was poor, but we couldn't understand the attraction or why some of
the cruisers we'd met had stayed so long. The best memory I have is
snorkelling with many large crayfish (lobster to the locals)all
walking about or fighting one another in a protected marine reserve.
So soon we sailed to Guanaha, the last of the Bay Islands, looking
for more interesting territory. There was a long period of strong
tradewinds forecast, which would make our progress towards Panama
very slow, so we would have to make a decision to leave straight
away, or end up spending a full week in Guanaha. A quick recce by
dinghy and paddleboard showed we could do the best stuff in a day or
two then make sail for Providencia and on to Panama, rather than try
to fill in a whole week here. The one thing I'm sad we missed out on
was a music night put on by fellow cruisers at the german Manatee
Cafe.
Guanaha's special treats were the Venice-like Bonacca Cay where
most of the population crowds onto one tiny island with no streets
and some cute little canals, and the cut across the island that you
can motor through and see some clean water, a stunning lighthouse,
and Columbus' landing place on the north coast.
Eventually clearing out from Bonacca Cay (me waiting for the Port
Captain to return from a 2 hour lunch and Annika fending off the
attentions of many local men at the wharf) we headed out into a rough
sea and head winds to round the treacherous Nicaragua Bank via
Vivarillo and Providentia (Columbian territory!) then down to
northern Panama to cruise the Boca del Toros region.
A number of yachts were leaving at the same time so we expected
have some company, though we only saw one other boat. Annika's
concern was the unwanted company of locals from Bonacca who now knew
too much about where we were headed, just two of us in a valuable
yacht, with lots of isolated terrotory ahead of us. The Bay Islands
celebrate their history of pirates and buccaneers (Henry Morgan, to
be sure, aye), though I'm not sure that pirates are still active.
Still, it does fire the imagination!
I recalled another cruiser back at Cortez saying as we left -
“now's the time to stop being nice, there are some desperate
characters out there”.
