Passage notes: Bahia Honda to Isla Santa Catalina, Panama

Log book

• Port of departure: Bahia Honda, Panama
• Departure date and time: Monday, February 10, 2014 at 1:30pm
• Port of arrival: Isla Santa Catalina, Panama
• Arrival date and time: Monday, February 10, 2014 at 9:30pm
• Total travel time: 10 hours
• Miles traveled: 24.7 nm
• Engine hours: 1216.6 begin – 1216.6 end – 0.0 hours
• Fuel consumption: 32.7 begin – 32.7 end – 0.0 gallons used
• Fuel economy: ∞ mpg
• Tides and currents: High tide was at ~1:30pm, meaning we left on the start of an ebb. At the entrance to Bahia Honda near Isla Centincla there was a significant rip. We approached Isla Santa Catalina in the middle of a flood.
• Weather: No forecast retrieved.

With wind from the W/SW at 5-10 knots and SV Vagabundo close behind, we tacked out of Bahia Honda. I recently inherited a fat fishing pole of my own from our friend Ron on Mar de Luz and was eager to get it all tricked out with flashers and weights and fancy lures and big hooks. The line eased through my fingers, drifting farther and farther behind the boat, and I would reel it in as fast as I could. We were going 3 knots or less and fish like to bite on lures going 5-7 knots. I wasn’t paying particularly close attention to my line as I was letting it out, my fingers rhythmically passing over it, until my fingers were passing over nothing but air. I forgot to secure the bitter end. The lure had sunk out of sight, the flasher was signaling SOS and the line was disappearing quickly into the water. With oversized, lethargic cat-like reflexes I belly-flopped into the water in hopes of retrieving it. Instead I just swum around haphazardly, my jean shorts now saturated and adding significant drag. Jeff hove to to enjoy the antics and to pick me up once I’d had my fun.

As we neared the entrance to Bahia Honda, the wind slowed and the current accelerated. There was a strong rip, reminiscent of our sailing adventures in Puget Sound, that created choppy water and propelled us out to sea. Glad it was an outgoing tide rather than an incoming tide. Jeff inherited the tiller and as tends to happen when he takes the stick, we started to feel winds from the NW, directly at our back. That man must have a direct line to the wind gods, and the wind gods must be ladies, because they l.o.v.e. him. For the next couple of hours we sailed along with 10-13 knots of wind at our back, wing-on-wing, very modest wind waves, pleasantly cool cloudy skies. Perfection.

I entertained making dinner, but given our unexpected progress (we were going 4-5 knots), I decided to just wait until we reached the anchorage. I should have known better. Shortly after sunset, on my watch (naturally), the wind died. Our destination, which had only been a half an hour away was now half a century away as we bobbed around without any wind. Eventually we started to feel puffs from the SE, right on our nose. We tacked upwind to get a better angle on the anchorage. Jeff took the tiller and wouldn’t you know it, the wind moved around to our side, guiding us gently into the anchorage.

It was dark, but we could see Mar de Luz and Vagabundo’s mast headlights in front of us and reefs to our right were illuminated by the waxing moon. We dropped the anchor in 25 feet and sailed past it, setting it firmly in the sand. The taut anchor whipped us around like an aggressive dance partner and held us steady against the current of the incoming tide. Dinner finally happened around 10:00pm (tuna mac ‘n’ cheese!), followed immediately by sleep.