Monday, February 23, 2015

Puerto Chiapas to Bahia de Jiquilisco

2/18/15 – 2/21/15
260 NM

We left Chiapas around 1400 and had a very ordinary first 24 hours. Minor teething issues from being in a marina for two weeks were quickly rectified. The 19th being my birthday, Anna made a nice dinner and we shared the last two beers around 2000. We don't drink on passages, but made an exception this evening. Little did we know what was in store for us.

JUMBLE was running 25 NM off shore, near the border of Guatemala and El Salvador. The offshore breeze started slightly earlier than usual, filling in nicely at 10 knots from the N by 2030. We planned for a good night of sailing and discussed preparations for the Papagayo winds we were bound to encounter in a few days off Nicaragua and Costa Rica: stowage, securing deck gear and generally being prepared for a blow.

The offshore wind ramped up quickly after dinner. It hit 20 knots and we dropped the main, not expecting the wind to last. Within a few minutes, we realized that this was a mistake as the wind was reaching the high 20s and the waves suddenly got nasty with the bowsprit poking into the water and lots of spray. We had difficulty holding the bow into the waves with just the mizzen and it was a fight to douse the 170% genoa. We set the 105% and tried to continue on course, which was now a close reach, the wind coming from NNE and our course being generally E. The 105% isn't our best sail and the top was twisting off the the gusts. We set a double reefed main to get enough power to head upwind in these conditions. Once we had the main set, the 105% was too much as winds were reaching 30 knots and we considered the blade jib or storm jib, both much better sails. Given our proximity to a weather shore, we decided to douse mizzen and jib and motor sail NNW on a starboard tack towards shore and shelter. Our other option, certainly more comfortable, would have been to run off south or west, taking us away from our destination. The waves were steep, but only had 25 miles of fetch. On a starboard tack, our engine intake was solidly in the water and once near shore the waves would be much smaller. When we finally reached shore around 0300 or 0400, we spotted a cluster of shrimpers, lights burning bright, hugging the shore as well.

So from 1000 until the wee hours of the morning, JUMBLE motored into steep chop and took quite a beating. The autopilot repair held, and we were able to sit safely at the nav station with the lower hatchboard in and the canvas flap down over the companionway to keep out the spray. We took the top of one weird wave through the companionway, sideways. JUMBLE was tossed to 45 degrees a couple times and we had a few items come loose inside, but nothing too serious. We were only able to make 3 knots the first few hours, but once closer to shore the waves had less punch. The wind lost none of its ferocity near shore. We experienced our first gale at sea. Without instruments I can't be sure of the exact speed, but 35 knots at least. In the early morning, as we started to skirt the 60' contour near shore, the rig sang a tune I hadn't heard before, so I'm sure there were gusts above 40 knots. Mountains and volcanoes line the shore here and I suspect the norther was accelerated by these and in the canyons between them. There isn't as much weather recording in this part of the world, so we've only been able to confirm with one other sailboat further ahead of us who caught some action in the 30s and the locals here in El Salvador who told us a Frente Frio (Cold Front) passed through that night. Our forecast, less than 48 hours old, had called for light and variable less than 10!

Daybreak on the 20th

Only 1 or 2 miles off the beach


We took 1-2 hour watches from 1000 to 0800 the next morning, when things calmed down almost as quickly as they had started. The off watch took the bunk. On watch I took the floor or nav station, Anna favored the nav station. I had been slightly seasick before the wind started, maybe two weeks in a marina, but it didn't get much worse once it started blowing. The hilarious thing was remembering our first few Catalina trips, mild as they were, and how much sicker we both were then. Being a little sick at least gave me an incentive to go out into the cockpit and get soaked taking a look around. Not that it mattered as all the fishing traffic had already run for shore. I timed my lookouts to every two “incidents”, which I defined as 'prop leaving the water', 'wave breaking on hull' or 'boat stopped by wave'. All of these were distinct sounds so you could keep your eyes closed. This corresponded to about 15 minutes at first, but all these were gone near shore. Near shore we had to keep a close eye on the chart, GPS and depth sounder until daybreak. One funny thing: when we first got hammered, the depth sounder went crazy beeping and reseting itself continuously. It took us a moment to realize that it was because it was being lifted out of the water by the choppy waves. Probably a common occurrence, but the first time it's happened to us. 

All clear 

Things cleared quickly and it was a lovely, relaxing morning with a big breakfast and calm seas by 0900. Our overriding concern during the night was damaging gear, we never felt unsafe, just uncomfortable. The only casualty was one of our air-vanes for the self-steering, presumably lost over the side. It's something easy to fabricate, plus we have two others. If we'd stowed our deck gear properly, we wouldn't have lost it. Lesson learned.




Our plan was to make it all the way to Panama from Chiapas, but we didn't pack as much fuel as we should have and used more than expected the evening of the 19th. With the Papagayos blowing along Nicaragua (according to our bullshit forecast) and east swell to confirm it, we decided to moor at Barillas Marina in El Salvador on the morning of the 21st. It's called a marina, but it's more of a resort with a mooring field deep inside a lagoon. You need a pilot to navigate the bar at the entrance. We have a guidebook, a few years old now, that has waypoints, but the bar has definitely moved since then, so we waited for a panga to come out and guide us in.


This post has already gone on too long and we need to depart early tomorrow morning for the tide, so I'll wrap things up, but this is a pretty nice place and very reasonably priced. One of those stops you're glad you stumbled upon and wish you could stay a little bit longer. We did get to rest up, do a little walking and enjoy some nice scenery. Maybe we'll come back for the volcanoes.

Crossing the bar

Lempa Shoals

Inside the Bahia de Jiquilisco

Dock and Moorings

Semi-Domestic Spider Monkeys on the Plantation

Tree o' Monkeys

The caged fellow quarrels with the Alpha

"How Cute!"

Alpha Female "Maria"
Little Gator

Croc' didn't show up in shot

View from a hammock

Horse Ranch, Polo field to right

Bananas
So we're bound for Panama on the 24th. If we make another unscheduled stop, hopefully it'll be as pleasant as this one.

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