Ecuador to Panama-Chapter 2

Day seven of our voyage brings additional challenges. At about 1:00 a.m. the seas are now large with lots of chop and we’ve got 20 knot winds on our starboard beam (right side midship) with gusts in excess of that. Conditions are too rough for our autopilot to handle so we take turns hand steering. We both stay in the cockpit to make sure whoever is at the helm doesn’t fall asleep. It takes some strength and stamina to keep a boat on course, and handling safely, in strong winds and rough seas. There have been many hours of hand steering in the passed several days and we both have aching necks, arms, shoulders and backs. We’re bruised and battered from being tossed about at different points during our journey so far. By then, I was fighting to stay awake and man the helm for more than 30 to 60 minutes at a time. I’m beyond exhaustion and so is Barry. We both felt like we were being pushed to our limit. We were relying heavily on each other and God. Many prayers were being lifted up for practical help, as well as for our protection. When one of us was at the helm, the other was close by trying to rest while keeping an eye on the other. Rest requires relaxation and one isn’t able to relax on a boat that is being tossed and rocked about. We went back and forth like this for about five or six hours. Then mercifully the wind and seas settled down considerably making our ride tolerable. By evening of day seven we had calm seas and a gentle breeze out of the north. We thanked God for all the little breaks we got. Just when it seemed like we couldn’t tolerate any more adversity, God came through as He always does. During this respite I was able to get three hours of sleep and then Barry got his turn. At about 10:00 p.m. I’m about to go below and rouse Barry from his four-hour rest. Before I make it out of the cockpit, the engine dies. It only takes me a moment to realize that I had been so focused on letting Barry rest for as long as possible that I never checked the fuel level in the jug. I had let the fuel in the jug we were running the engine with run out of fuel, thus loosing the suction in the hose. The sound of the engine dying woke Barry immediately (Yes, he actually slept for about two hours!) I was mortified by my neglect and felt like I had just kicked my best friend while he was already down. I don’t know how else to describe how remorseful I was. My mistake gave Barry yet another problem to resolve. To his credit, he handled it extremely well; probably because he didn’t have the energy to muster up any fury. When you are numb, pain doesn’t register as it normally does. After pondering the easiest solution he came up with one and had us motoring again within an hour.

By 9:30 a.m. of day eight we are safely anchored in Bahia Pinas. It’s a fairly large beautiful bay surrounded by jungle. We radio the Tropic Star Lodge and ask for permission to anchor near their twenty or so fishing boats. They say that they were expecting us and told us where to go to check in and arrange for fuel. Before going ashore we take our dingy over to Cat N About who pulls in shortly after us. We exchange war stories about our passage and get more jerry jugs from them to fill with fuel. Part of our conversation is about discovering new leaks in our boats (I guess you could say that this is one benefit of rough seas and rain; it allows you to identify areas in need of repair). They had a couple of lockers filled with clothing that were saturated with water and were now hanging out to dry. In addition to leaks we had the added condition of salt water throughout the boat. In our delirium, we did not realize that our port holes and hatches were open during that last episode of boisterous sea conditions. That generated another clean up job for me after I deal with the diesel spills down below as well.

Once at the dock of the lodge we are directed to the office. The owner and staff are very gracious to us. We get our fuel and tell them we’ll be heading out tomorrow morning. The only other thing in the entire bay is a small village where most of the men are employed by the lodge. The area is so remote that the lodge uses huge generators to provide power. There is a small air strip that is used only for delivering guests to and from the lodge. They told us that they have set numerous world records for marlin and other large game fish; often breaking their own records.

It was a huge relief to be able to spend most of the day relaxing and decompressing. The next morning both boats headed out about 6:30 a.m. to make the fifty-five mile crossing from the mainland to Isla Del Rey in the southern part of the Perlas Islands. Rather than going directly to Panama City in the Bay of Panama (north of the Perlas Islands by about forty miles) we planned to take short day hops. This allows us to avoid another overnight passage (we’re extremely gun shy at this point) and offers us a small respite from the grueling demands of the last eight days. The Perlas Islands provide gorgeous cruising grounds and only a couple of them are inhabited; mostly with small villages. We are anxious to get there even though we would merely be passing through on our way to Panama City for boat repairs. After Blew Moon is completely sea worthy again we would return to the Perlas Islands for an extended visit. If you are familiar with the reality T.V. series called Survivor, about three years ago they filmed a series on one of the islands.

We had been motoring as we left Bahia Pinas and after being out for about three hours we got enough wind to sail. Barry went forward to raise our mainsail and a gust of wind ripped the halyard (the rope used to raise and lower the sail) out of his hand and it got wrapped a couple of times around our backstay (wire cable that supports the mast). All kinds of expletives were flying from his lips. I was at the helm and my vision above was obstructed by our dodger so I couldn’t see what happened. Sheepishly, I make a dreaded inquiry. He’s fuming with anger as he tells me what happened. He confessed most of his anger was at himself because of his bone-head maneuver. Apparently, while at anchor he unclipped the halyard from the top of the sail and clipped it to our side stay because the wind was making it clang loudly against our aluminum mast. He forgot to secure it to the sail before we headed out. When he unclipped it from the side stay to attach it to the sail a strong gust of wind ripped it from his hands which were extremely weak from all the repair work he’d been doing. At that point, we had no way to raise our main and were concerned that the halyard would get so wrapped up in the rigging that it would be a nightmare to untangle. We make the decision to turn around and return to Bahia Pinas to rectify the problem in the calm waters of the bay. One hour later, the engine dies. What could possibly happen next? Quickly, Barry determines that the end of the hose going from the fuel jug to the engine had looped upward and sucked air as the fuel level dropped below it. Barry’s getting more experience each time we have an “incident” and this time retifies the problem within fifteen minutes. We limp back to Bahia Pinas feeling like we’ve been kicked while trying to get up.

We end up spending two more nights in that lovely isolated bay fixing the problem, getting additional rest and going over the boat more closely to make sure everything was in order before we attempted our second departure. One more night in the bay was the actual plan, but we ended up there two nights waiting for the best weather window.
On our second attempt to get to Isla Del Rey we were successful! We met up with Cat N About in a tiny bay lined with palm trees and a white beach. A small river spilled into the little bay which was navigable by dinghy. The late afternoon sun was warm, the skies were clear and there was a gentle breeze. We had made it to the islands and it was a feast for our eyes and a huge relief for our stressed minds and bodies. We spent only one night in this little bay and headed to another island further north where we also spent one night. Then it was on to Isla Contadora, one of the few inhabited islands. We anchored off of a pretty stretch of beach with nice houses and a hotel/restaurant lining the cliff above. Our first day there was spent searching for spare fan belts. The center of town (I use this term loosely) consisted of three small tiendas (mini markets), a small block (another loose term) of tourist shops and offices, some large expensive-looking homes and not much more. Most residents maneuvered the island by golf cart or other similar vehicles. Several streets meandered throughout the island passed small, humble homes where locals and a few ex-pats lived. We successfully located the one mechanic on the island. According to our cruisers guide, he’s the only source for parts and repairs of any type. He happened to have two used fan belts suitable for our use for $10. We gladly paid (we would have given him whatever his price was) and felt a bit more comfortable about our next hop which would take us to Panama City where new belts could be purchased.

We were anxious to get to Panama City so that we could fix our fuel system and buy parts. Most things are available there and what isn’t can easily be ordered and shipped from the states. It’s a good place to do repairs. Lately, I think often about the very apprapo description of the cruising life; doing boat maintenance in exotic places. Our stay on Isla Contadora extends to five days because of 25-30 knot winds blowing out of the Bay of Panama. Of course, that’s the direction we need to travel! We are learning to be patient and make the most of our time on the island. One of the days is so windy that we never leave Blew Moon for fear of dragging anchor. A second day is almost as bad, but we feel confident to leave the boat to go ashore for a few hours. Barry slept for those two nights in the cockpit on anchor watch (more stress). The highlight of our time on Isla Contadora was meeting a couple from Canada who were vacationing in Panama. We enjoyed some time with them on the beach and also shared one meal. The snorkeling on the beach was pretty good because of three small rocky reefs that attract a variety fish. I snorkeled one day and saw a dozen types of brightly-colored tropical fish and one enormous sting ray resting on the sand bottom. That was another highlight for me; Barry chose to stay on the beach.

On the morning of day fifteen since leaving Ecuador, while Barry is doing his pre-departure engine check he discovered the small radiator for the engine is low on water. He starts to fill it and hears water dripping into the bilge. We quickly determined that our radiator hose was leaking like a sieve and we had no spare! (Get out the violins!) Another attempt to reach our illusive final destination is thwarted. At this point, we are almost numb to adversity. Of course this is a specialized hose for our Yanmar 30-horsepower engine. Admittedly, we should have had at least one spare on board. We accept responsibility for our part in some of the misfortune which has come upon us like an avalanche. However, there is no time for pity or self-flagellation; neither is productive. We forge ahead and begin another search for the island’s mechanic (there is no shop to locate him at) and we put out an “all points bulletin” to the boats within radio range in hopes of finding a radiator hose. Tom, our hero in Panama City, gets to work on ordering two for us. That way, once they arrive the parts can either be delivered by another cruiser heading for the Perlas or put on the ferry that runs between the mainland and Isla Contadora. Meanwhile, we obtained a used section of radiator hose from the mechanic but it turns out to be of questionable integrity; so the search continues. In enters our next hero, Stan on the sailing vessel Homer’s Odyssey. He and his wife pull into the anchorage at Isla Contadora along with our buddies on Cat N About the next day. Stan successfully locates a section of hose in the stores located in his bilge and drops it off at Blew Moon. It has a slightly larger inside diameter than the one we need but Barry makes it work! Thanks to Stan’s assistance and Barry’s ingenuity, the engine is operational once again (or at least until the next surprise!).

We leave Isla Contadora on day six of our imprisonment, I mean visit, and arrive eight hours later in the La Playita anchorage near the entrance to the Panama Canal. Eighteen long and horrendous days after leaving Ecuador we are finally safe and sound in Panama City. We thank God for our safe arrival and hope that things start improving for us. This cruising season definitely got off to a rough start!

Ecuador to Panama-Chapter One

We enjoyed a wonderful holiday season with our families in the states; a first in four years since we were previously engaged in cruising in November and December. There were two storms that dumped a ton of snow in Idyllwild. This was my first experience living in the snow. We even had a power outage for three days and almost got snowed in. Quite a contrast to sweating in the tropics! I loved it, but must admit that I welcomed the thought of donning a bathing suit and swimming once again. I was really looking forward to cruising the Pacific Islands of Panama because other cruisers rave about them.

The last four years of traveling have been such a blessing, but we decided to start spending more time near home and less cavorting around on Blew Moon. Our intent is to get Blew Moon closer to home by this May. Ideally, we’d like to make it all the way to Mexico and put her in a marina somewhere in the Sea of Cortez. Then we can either fly or drive down to spend a month or two at a time cruising Mexican waters. No more six month absences from home for us! Remarkably, this was Barry’s decision. I, the initially reluctant spouse, even tried to talk him into one more season, but was unsuccessful.

So, we flew back to Ecuador on January 1st and took about three weeks to get Blew Moon ready and check out of the country. The latter was a painful process and took an entire week. To fully appreciate the absurdity of our experience you really need to be personally familiar with Latin American culture. Let me try to give you some perspective. Most business processes are painfully slow, in part because of either poor or no coordination between necessary parties. During the twenty-two months that Blew Moon resided in Ecuador they introduced new procedures for pleasure vessels entering the country. This was brought on by the increasing number of visiting yachts. They just weren’t quite sure how to handle us and needed a plan. Initially, they decided to treat us like a commercial vessel which imposed ridiculous fees and requirements. Fortunately, the port we were in had a cruisers advocate who got in the middle of this process and fought for more reasonable procedures. This resulted in much improved requirements for leisure craft but caused a fracture in the overall system. Of the four ports in Ecuador, Bahia de Caraquez was the only one that began operating under more lenient regulations. So, traveling from one port to another was often out of the question. Then after awhile, they decided to automate the process. Now one would assume that this would make the process more efficient. Well, if you are thinking along those lines you’ve obviously never spent much time in Latin America. This required coordination of data bases between immigration, customs, the port captains and the Navy. This is where the wheels came off for us. Unlike tourists who fly into a country and receive a visa and clear customs at the airport, cruisers have to, at a minimum, visit the offices of immigration, customs and the port captain upon arrival in a port of entry. And, you get the pleasure of paying each entity their required fee in addition to providing them with copies of passports, vessel documentation, crew lists, a zarpe (a document you receive from your departing port that indicates your next port of entry when traveling from one country to another), and numerous other forms. As if that weren’t enough each entity has forms they complete that involve asking you a myriad of questions. Until each step is complete, you are not legal. And, these offices are usually not near each other (sometimes even in different cities) which means this process often takes an entire day or more. To check-in at Bahia de Caraquez it requires a 1 ½ hour cab ride one way that costs $25. Flying to a destination is sounding better all the time! So, back to the process. Once all this data was recorded electronically, it probably made coordination between entities easier but it had little or no effect on the check-in or check-out process for cruisers. Well, because Blew Moon was already in Ecuador before the data was recorded electronically we were not in the data base. So, to check-out the guy who owns the marina we were in sent all our paperwork to the officials so that we could be entered into the computer system. We were told that unless this was done we would not be able to check-out because they would have no record that we checked-in. Are you following this? That made sense to us and we expected our check-out to go smoothly once we were alerted that we were in the computer system. We were anxious to leave for Panama and waited with great anticipation for word that the local port captain had our zarpe ready. Once we had it we could take a cab to Manta and check-out with Immigration and be cleared to leave the country. We were lulled into a false sense of security when we heard that we should be receiving our zarpe on Wednesday, January 14th. We would travel to Immigation on Thursday and leave on Friday which happened to be Barry’s 62nd birthday. Then we got word that our zarpe wouldn’t be ready until Thursday which bumps the other steps out a day. Being used to delays in Latin America we rolled with it. Well, without going into the minutia I’ll just say that we didn’t receive our zarpe until Monday, the 19th and finally left the country on Wednesday, the 21st. Apparently, the local port captain was never able to locate our data in the computer data base even though it had all been entered. So, the only way we were able to get our zarpe was to check-in with the port captain as if we had just arrived so he could enter us into the system at his end. Then he could check us out. And to add insult to injury we had to pay another entry fee of $30 even though we showed him our receipt for our initial check-in. So, I guess you could say that we couldn’t leave because we weren’t really there! All you can do in these situations is shrug your shoulders and laugh about it. Otherwise, you should never go cruising because that’s just the way it is sometimes!

I wish I could say that things got better from there, but it would be a lie! Our passage to the southern end of the Perlas Islands was 540 miles. Depending on whether we were able to sail or had to motor it should have taken five to seven days. As always, we checked several sources for weather and sea conditions and left with a forecast of light to moderate southwest winds and a north bound current which helps greatly. Once we were out of the river in Ecuador and heading northeast we had the wind coming from the WNW to NW and our positive current was nowhere to be found. But sea conditions were very comfortable so we just motor-sailed, averaging about five knots, and enjoyed a lovely first day. At that rate we would arrive in five and a half days. We left with Rob and Linda who were on their catamaran aptly named Cat N About. It was nice having someone to chat on the radio with and it was comforting knowing that their boat traveled about the same speed as ours. This meant we’d always be within VHF radio contact range and should arrive at the Perlas Islands about the same time.

By 7:45 p.m. our first night out we crossed the equator and were back in the northern hemisphere. From about midnight until day break the next morning we experienced scattered squalls. Barry was on watch during the first one which dumped tons of rain and soaked him despite the shelter of our hard dodger and screened cockpit enclosure. During these squalls we saw a shift in the wind and had it out of the south but it was too light to sail. By about 6:30 a.m. of day two we were in Columbian waters and later in the day were out of the squalls. Then we had the wind out of the northwest again and we were fighting a 2-3 knot current on our nose. By nightfall we were struggling to even maintain four knots and had the added frustration of having to dodge fishing vessels. We had no moon and the stars were obscured by clouds so there was nothing to provide illumination and the small low-profile fishing boats don’t show up on radar. This makes night watches quite stressful. The unlit smaller boats see us coming and then set off a strobe light to alert us to their presence. On our third day out we encountered more rain along with lumpy uncomfortable seas and by now the wind, a 2-3 knot current and four-foot swells are right on our nose. We were fighting to even maintain a speed of three knots. Fortunately, the wind was light so it didn’t make the sea conditions worse. Day four was a repeat of day three although as the day progressed we began inching our speed up closer to five knots. Day five began with calm seas which transitioned into small chop and then what I like to call “lively seas”. These usually involve the boat being bounced in all directions by wind chop and swells that are coming at you from different directions. We also got a little more rain, but then the clouds cleared and that night we could see stars for the first time. Between nightfall and midnight we were once again fighting to maintain three knots and some level of comfort in lousy conditions. Then day five came with a vengeance! At 2:10 a.m. we lost our engine. Barry got to work and quickly replaced the fuel filter which had become clogged. This didn’t resolve the problem so he checked the fuel pump and determined that it wasn’t operating. So, he replaced the fuel pump and then we were able to start the engine again. After a mere fifteen minutes of being underway again I noticed that the water temperature gauge was reading high. We immediately shut down the engine and once again Barry went below to investigate (thank God he was given the ability to trouble-shoot and fix virtually anything!) One look into the engine compartment confirmed that we’d lost the fan belt. It is said that trouble comes in three’s, right? He replaces the fan belt and we’re up and running again. Well, the hits just kept coming. The engine begins choking again so we shut her down. Down Barry goes again and determines that the fuel system is totally plugged. The fuel level in our 120 gallon tank is down to the last 15 gallons which is too dirty to run the engine with. This is not good news folks. We had been burning fuel at such an increased rate because of the weather conditions that we were now in a bad situation. What fuel we had left in the tank was fouled because the low level and the rough seas stirred up any dirt that was in the bottom of the tank, making it unusable. We had no other fuel on board and even if we did, adding good fuel to the tank wouldn’t solve the problem. Apparently, the new fuel pump was trying to pass so much crud through it to the fuel filter that it fried and clogged another fuel filter.

We weren’t in any danger; we were far from land or other obstacles, the seas were calm and the wind was light. Because we still were in a 2-3 knot negative current our attempts to sail were futile. We were slowly drifting backwards! To give myself something to do I sat at the helm trying to find wind that would at least give us some forward motion. It was a battle I was losing. Then I noticed that the wheel felt funny; loose. I turned it one direction and then another to see if the boat responded. Nothing. I thought to myself ”What now?!” I told Barry it felt like we’d lost steerage. So, he hung his head over the stern while instructing me to turn the wheel. The rudder was fixed in place. Well, it was official; we’d lost our steering somehow! These were the things that were supposed to happen to other people, right? By now, we are both sleep deprived, but especially Barry since I had to wake him from his slumber. Although actually, for some reason, on this trip he was unable to sleep. When I had watch he would go down below and just lay in bed, but sleep rarely came.

Now, we are totally adrift without steerage. It didn’t take much time for us to determine that we may need to request assistance when we checked into the 9:00 a.m. Panama Pacific Cruisers Net. We alert Cat N About as to our situation and they tell us about friends in Panama City on another boat who could coordinate assistance for us. We speak with them during the cruisers net and ask them to find out about the availability and cost of a tow to Panama City (our final destination), or the availability of someone getting fuel to us. If we had fuel in jerry jugs then Barry could set it up to be fed directly to the engine. Tom takes the ball and runs with it and we arrange to make radio contact again in an hour. Meanwhile, Barry is down below evaluating the problem with the steering quadrant. It doesn’t take him long to come up with a solution and he gets to work right away. Within three hours Barry is making headway with the steering repairs and we find out some of our options. One, there is a towing vessel available in Panama City (170 miles from our location and growing as we drift south) but it costs $4,500 per day and it would take them one day to get to us and another to tow us back. We also find out that there is a U.S. Coast Guard Cutter in the area who can lend assistance. They cannot provide a tow but have offered to bring us fuel and skilled labor if needed for the repairs. We tell Tom we need some time to discuss our options and arrange to make radio contact again in an hour. At this point, we are both frazzled, stressed, running on adrenaline, discouraged to name a few emotions. The tow, although very expensive, seems very attractive at that point. We actually consider it. We check in with Tom again and Barry informs him he’s still making steering repairs but feels confident his fix will work. Then it’s only a matter of getting some fuel on board. We agree to check in again in another hour. Within that hour Barry is feeling good about his repairs, we continue to mull things over and decide to fore-go the costly tow and just get the U.S.C.G. to deliver fuel. So, at 12:30 p.m. of day six we set off our EPIRB (Emergency Position Intercept Radio Beacon) by request of the U.S.C.G. so that they could locate us. Before doing this we confirmed that they understood that we were not declaring an emergency and that we were not willing to abandon our vessel. Barry continues with the repair. I sit and wait.

Barry takes a break after about an hour and we’re sitting in the cockpit a little shell shocked. Our discussion even includes the topic of selling Blew Moon. To say we were discouraged and weary would be an understatement. We definitely were not having fun! Suddenly, we hear a helicopter and in a minute or two we can see something bright orange heading our way. One look through the binoculars confirms that it is the U.S.C.G. Oh boy, the cavalry is coming! We both felt a little tension leave our bodies. They establish radio contact with us and confirm that we are the vessel needing assistance. Their first question is whether anyone on board needs medical attention. We respond that we are both well, that our steering is being repaired and reiterate that we are in need of fuel. They tell us that all subsequent radio contact will be from their cutter and the next will be at the bottom of the hour. For the next five hours we are contacted by the U.S.C.G. cutter each hour and they ask for updates. Barry finishes his repairs and deems the steering system operational once again. We are sitting in the cockpit watching the sun get low on the horizon with a bowl of soup; our first meal since dinner the previous night. As I’m spooning my first mouthful Barry says, “I see a ship.” My response is, “Gee, they’ve got good timing. I wonder if they deliver food?” About ten minutes later they contact us and say they have a visual on us. We tell them the steering problem has been corrected and that we would sure appreciate about thirty gallons of diesel. Their response was, “We are bringing fuel and a master mechanic. We will contact you once we launch.” It took a good twenty minutes for them to get a safe distance from us so they could put their launch in the water. The cutter was a good two-hundred or more feet long with the full sized helicopter on the aft (rear) deck. It was BIG! We wolfed down our soup and before we knew it there was a launch heading our way. They contacted us by radio again and instructed us to keep our sails up and to stay on our current heading. I nicely reminded the guy that we were adrift, to which he said, “Of course, I’m sorry.” It was one of the lighter moments. As they approached our starboard (right) side I counted, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight of them; seven young men and one young woman. They all looked twenty-something and very fit. The pilot deftly maneuvered their launch beside Blew Moon and four of their crew jumped on board. You’d have thought that they just dropped by for a casual visit. The chief introduced himself by first name while the other two guys and girl waited in the wings. “So, tell me what’s happened”, he says. Barry launches into a synopsis of the events that began at 2:10 a.m. that morning and brought them up-to-date. The chief was very personable yet all business. He introduced the mechanic and asked Barry to show him the repairs he had done. I’m sure they wanted to confirm that we were no longer handicapped in the steering department. The chief inquired of me how we were holding up and I told him we were exhausted, but relieved to have their assistance. Barry and the mechanic joined us again. When questioned by the chief, the mechanic gave Barry’s repair his approval. The chief then asked Barry to go through the fuel system with the mechanic. They did this and returned to our very small cockpit where four of us sat like sardines. The mechanic told the chief that Barry’s plan to by-pass the fuel system and deliver diesel straight from a jerry jug would work. They then asked if we needed fuel hoses, or any other materials to set this up. We requested hose and asked if they had jerry jugs for the fuel to which they said they did not. So, we gave them the four-5 gallon water jugs we had on deck and told them to use them. We offered to empty them, but they insisted on doing it themselves. The launch came alongside again and grabbed the jugs, emptied them and returned to their ship to fill them with diesel after drying them out. While they were gone they asked if they could do a vessel inspection to which we agreed. This involved showing them where certain safety equipment is located, i.e., flares, fire extinguishers, life vests. We provided vessel documentation and personal information. When the launch returned we had twenty gallons of diesel, fuel hose and siphon hose. They brought a new face with them. This guy must have been at least 6’4” and even bigger than the others. They kind of distracted us while the mechanic took him below for a “run down” of all that they’d done since boarding. This guy also opened up lots of compartments and inspected them. We figure he was looking for drugs or weapons. After about three hours on board Blew Moon they left us and Barry got to work on jury rigging the fuel system. They would have stayed until that was done, but the mechanic was so confident that Barry had everything under control they decided to leave. I guess they figured that once we had fuel and the parts to set up a temporary fuel delivery system that their job was done.

Barry and I were so impressed with this crew on board the U.S.C.G. cutter that we plan to write a letter praising their work. From the time they boarded us until they left they made it their duty to make us as comfortable as possible and to help us in anyway that they could. They were personable, yet all business. Hurray, for the U.S.C.G.! We are deeply indebted to them and extremely grateful. On a lighter note, the mechanic (who I noticed had been sweating profusely) looked at me and said, “I have to hand it to you. You have better sea legs than I do.” He went on to say that he thought that their boat moved a lot, but concluded that he was not cut out for small boats. I understood then the level of his discomfort and the source of the perspiration running down his face. Once you’ve been out to sea for several days in a small boat you become accustomed to the motion. The bobbing around while adrift on our little sail boat was apparently quite uncomfortable to him. Poor baby! We hadn’t even noticed. We even commented to each other after they left that we were grateful to God that He provided benign conditions during our adrift state.


By 11:15 p.m. Barry had our new fuel delivery system in place and we were up and running once again. Our log notes told us that we had only drifted eight miles south since the first time we lost the engine early that morning. That was another thing we counted as a blessing as we got ourselves underway. By now, we are beyond tired. We set a new heading for a small bay in southern Panama on the mainland where we were told was the closest place to purchase diesel. We would need more than the twenty gallons the coast guard gave us to make it all the way to Panama City. We were 120 miles from Bahia Pinas where a world-class sports fishing lodge is located in a very remote area near the Columbia border. We would stop there to take on more fuel. Our friends Rob and Linda on Cat N About would go there as well. They would provide us with additional jerry jugs which they just happened have on board. Yet, another blessing! This would allow us to take on more than twenty gallons once there. They were also low on fuel and hoped to buy gasoline for their engine. An email had been sent to the Tropic Star Lodge from Tom alerting them that we would be arriving to request fuel. Tom told us that they are not a public fueling location, but are willing to help out vessels in need. We hoped we could be there within two days.

Stay tuned for chapter two!