Excitement on the Rio Chone, Ecuador

It’s been almost three weeks since our return to Blew Moon on the coast of Ecuador on the Rio Chone. Now that our travels in Argentina, Brazil and Uruguay are behind us we have lots of work to do on the boat. After enjoying great weather throughout most of the six weeks we traveled we are dealing with daily rain in Ecuador. This is the heart of the wet season (dry is from June through November). The rain has revealed that we have MANY leaks throughout the boat which need attention. Actually, the rain here is refreshing, but it just makes boat projects and taking the dingy ashore a little trickier. When we left Ecuador for Argentina on January 4th everything here was dry, brown and pretty unappealing to the eye. Our eyes beheld lush, green vegetation upon our return two weeks ago. It’s quite lovely this time of year. Water does wonders! However, it also brings floods, mudslides and lots of debris floating down river. Daily, we watch “islands” of various sizes and tree trunks float through the anchorage. These islands usually consist of clumps of mangroves or banana palms that wash into the river upstream. But, just about anything upriver that originated onshore ends up in the mix! Yesterday we had a luscious bunch of green bananas float passed Blew Moon still attached to the branch. We were so exhausted from our hard day of work that neither of us could muster up the energy to hop in the dingy and fetch those floating morsels! Hopefully, someone else down river is now enjoying them. During the outgoing tides the hull of Blew Moon gets battered by the likes of tree trunks and sections of telephone poles. We cringe each time we hear the unmistakable thud. We then listen for the occasional subsequent sound of the offending object scraping the side of the hull as it makes it way downriver.

The current in some sections of the river is very swift during the outgoing tide. The moorings the boats are secured to really get tested when they have the excess load of a small island clinging to their lines. There are two places on the Rio Chone were you can pay for a mooring. Puerto Amistad is the official cruisers establishment and is where we’ve moored Blew Moon for the last year. Unfortunately, several moorings have failed during Puerto Amistad’s three years of existence. Some cruisers don’t trust the moorings for that reason and choose to anchor in the river instead, or take moorage another four miles upriver at a place called Saiananda. Barry has had many conversations with Tripp, the owner of Puerto Amistad, and Tripp assured him that the moorings were inspected more frequently now and any suspect parts immediately replaced. Thankfully, there were no problems (that we know of) during the whole six months we were in the states last year. Blew Moon was safe and sound when we returned to her last November. So, we thought nothing of leaving her for a mere six weeks while we did some traveling around South America. Well, we had only been gone two weeks when we received an email from Tripp saying that Blew Moon had come off her mooring, but that she was safely rescued and secured before she collided with other boats in the anchorage. He apologized and once again assured us that the part that failed was replaced. Well, Barry was a wee bit angry; so much so that it took him another two weeks to calm enough to respond to Tripp’s email. Fortunately, it happened during the day when other cruisers were around. Four great guys from other boats hopped in their dingies and rescued Blew Moon. The staff at Puerto Amistad replaced the failed part and secured her again to the mooring. The cruising community is so amazing. No one hesitates for a moment when someone else is in need. We all rely on one another for advice, tools, spare parts, errands, laughter and just about any need that arises. This fact is one of the best aspects of the cruising lifestyle.

Well, at 3:00 a.m. on the morning of the 4th our fellow cruisers were put to the test once again on our behalf. I woke up to the boat moving in a different way than usual. Immediately, I got a horrible feeling that something was wrong. My view out the portholes was obstructed because of the water spots so I opened the companionway and ventured into the cockpit. To my horror I saw that we were no longer in our safe little community of boats. It took a few seconds for my mind to respond to what my eyes beheld. We had drifted over two miles downriver and were sideways, grounded on a sandbar at the mouth of the river, bobbing helter-skelter between the outgoing tide and the all-too close surf of the ocean. Meanwhile, Barry is none-the-wiser down below in dreamland. After a few deep breaths to gather my wits I ventured below toward my slumbering husband. I gently shook him. “Honey, you need to get up. We’ve come off the mooring and drifted to the mouth of the river”, I said as calmly as I could. He shot out of bed in a panic! This is what I was trying to avoid, but knew was inevitable. We both scrambled topside. His initial reaction upon seeing where we were was as raw as mine! Being the captain, he immediately began shouting orders. He sent me below for ropes and keys to the ignition while he unlocked the dingy which we leave tied beside the boat at night. First, I grabbed the ropes and figured I’d get the key next. I tied one line to the starboard bow cleat and tossed the loose end to Barry who was now in the dingy with the motor running. Once Barry had the rope in hand I scrambled below to put out a radio call for help. “Attention the fleet, attention the fleet. This is sailing vessel Blew Moon. We have come off our mooring and are at the mouth of the river. We are in distress and need assistance.” No sooner had I repeated the call when one, two, three boats responded that they were on their way. I later learned that Boris couldn’t find his shorts fast enough so he arrived to help in his underwear! Gotta luv him! As soon as I emerged top deck I heard Barry yelling for me. Once on the foredeck I watched with trepidation as the bow of the boat bounced up and down getting dangerously close to the top of his head. At that moment I feared he would be crushed beneath Blew Moon, but I also had enough confidence in my husband to figure he knew what he was doing. My thoughts were interrupted by his shouts directed my way. “Get the key”, he yelled to me over the noise of the outboard engine. As I make my way to the main cabin I am remembering that I recently went through all of our keys, labeled them and stashed them. A feeling of foreboding rose up within me as I entertained the possibility that I would not be able to locate the ignition key immediately. This often happens shortly after I “reorganize” the boat! But, I did not want to panic! So, I set about going through the keys I had stowed inside the desk. Meanwhile, two spouses left behind on their boats by fleeing husbands radioed me with tide information and to get a status. The tide information was bad news and my heart began to sink as I searched in vain for the ignition key. It had to be with all the other keys. It felt like I’d been down below for a long time, so I scurried up top to check on Barry. I heard his yells immediately. “Grab the helm and steer her upriver. She’s drifting toward shore!” The river-mouth is about four miles wide and filled with sandbars. Actually, that is the only thing that kept us from drifting further out to sea. We were hung up on one pretty much in the middle of the river. The situation was not good especially in light of the news that we still had several hours until low tide which meant we had less and less water under us with each passing minute. If we couldn’t free Blew Moon and get her to deeper water she’d end up lying on her side and get swamped. As Barry gave our 9.9 horsepower outboard all she had I pointed her upstream. We successfully pivoted Blew Moon ninety degrees when along came the cavalry. I asked Barry how he wanted our three amigoa to assist, to which he yelled at me, “Find the key!” Please Lord, help me find the key. With dread I went below once again. I fingered one unlabeled key that looked to me like the right one. With hope in my heart and a key in my hand (finally) I inserted it into the ignition, throttled up, turned the key and pressed the starter button. Nothing. To my disbelief, the engine didn’t turn over! A second time; she didn’t turn over. This can’t be happening; she ALWAYS starts the first time. On the fourth try the engine finally starts and I feel my hope returning. (Poor Boris; I found out that he had the unpleasant experience of being shot in the face by exhaust water when the engine turned over!) By now Ian on Loon III has tied his dingy alongside and crawled in the cockpit asking if we had the depth sounder turned on. We needed that so we could maneuver the boat into deep water. By now, Barry is at the helm and I’m below grabbing the depth sounder. We don’t leave any cockpit equipment hooked up while in an anchorage because of potential theft. In seconds, Ian has it connected and we begin to follow Boris as he makes way upriver slightly ahead in his dingy. Greg on Coco Kai is sticking close to render assistance with his dingy if we get hung up again. Miraculously, (thank you dear Lord) we slowly make our way back upriver to the anchorage without encountering any sandbars. We just followed Boris in his dingy thinking he knew something we didn’t. Come to find out, he didn’t. He just stayed slightly to the right of mid river and we blindly followed him. Let me give you an idea of how we were blessed. Sailboats do not come into or out of this river at any other time but at high-slack tide. This is to ensure that you have maximum depth of water under your keel and you are not fighting a current. Most sailboats pay a local guy to guide them in and out because he knows where the sandbars are and where the channel is located. This local knowledge is invaluable because the contour of the bottom is ever-changing. The fact that we were able to successfully maneuver upriver three hours after high slack tide is just one more way God has shown me that He is the only guide I need in life. And, once again, He has come through on the promise He made me nearly five years ago to always protect and preserve us while on the boat. I want God to have the credit for this because it is His due. Not only that, but Barry pointed out to me this morning that had we not cut our travels to Argentina and Brazil short this would have happened while we were away. No one would have known that Blew Moon was missing until day break. By then she would have been at sea and probably lost. The other miracle in all of this is the fact that our boat drifted freely through the anchorage passed many other boats and did not collide with any of them. Tell me God wasn’t protecting us and our property. It is usually the trying moments in my life that make me profoundly aware of God’s presence and His provision. I am grateful!
Well, it should come as no surprise that we have removed Blew Moon from the mooring at Puerto Amistad and moved upriver to Saiananda. We wasted no time in doing so! We joined four other boats in this little piece of paradise. It is becoming the preferred spot among the cruisers here for a few reasons. The boats are double-moored; fore and aft. Nonexistent is the violent high-slack tide pitching and rolling of the boat which can startle you awake or even cause motion sickness. That action also creates more stress on the mooring lines and hardware. It is quiet and peaceful; inpart because it is outside of town, but also because the grounds are filled with life. There are horses, a donkey, a cow, lots of peacocks, parrots, macaws, iguanas, dogs, chickens and more. The grounds are very tropical and there are several inviting places to relax in a hammock or one of the hanging rattan chairs. It operates as an inn where you can rent rooms, yet I don’t think guests are common. So far, there has been one group of a dozen biologists visiting the area who are doing research on alternative natural resources. They were here for two nights. Other than that, one other couple are the only inhabitants beside the owner, Alfredo. Alfredo is a biologist, has a shrimp farm upriver, sells yummy homemade marmalades and probably other things I don’t know about. He is originally from Peru, speaks fluent English and is a complete gentleman. However, one thing he is not, is a boater. But, he and the couple on the sailboat Revenier have an alliance. Dave and Judy bought adjacent property from Alfredo and are in the process of building a home. They are unofficially Alfredo’s ambassadors for the cruising community. Alfredo has set aside one guestroom for the use of the shower for the cruisers who pay him for a mooring. He is getting used to the unique needs of the cruisers and finds ways to accommodate us very graciously. He has a large full-time staff who are always around. We can have Gloria cook breakfast and/or lunch if we request it ahead, but it is not a restaurant so we partake only occasionally. So, this is where we hang until our return to California on March 26th. We feel comfortable about leaving Blew Moon here until we return to resume our cruising adventures in six months. We will be at sea again, then. I’m ready for that. It will be time to move on and hear the "woosh" of the water rushing across her hull. I’m sure she’s as ready as we are. First stop, the western islands of Panama (that's the plan at this point anyway). We hear they are gorgeous cruising grounds. It will be nice to be somewhere that we can actually swim and snorkel again. We have that to look forward to. Now, it's time to go home and see our family and friends who we love so much.