Log Book
- Port of departure: Isla Meanguera, El Salvador
- Departure date and time: Sunday, November 10, 2013 at 11:00am
- Port of arrival: Bahia San Tomas, Costa Rica
- Arrival date and time: Wednesday, November 13, 2013 at 9:30am
- Total travel time: 2 days and 22.5 hours (70.5 hours)
- Miles traveled: 191 nm
- Engine hours: 1148.1 – 1159.7 – 11.6 hours
- Fuel consumption: 52 begin – 47.4 end – 4.6 gallons used
- Fuel economy: 41 mpg
- Weather: The forecast predicted very light winds, 4-6 knots, from the E/NE during the majority of the day, switching to a light S/SW wind at at night up until we reached the coast line that runs parallel to Lake Managua and Lake Nicaragua at which point the forecast predicted E/NE winds from 10-15 knots. Given the weather phenomena along this coastline where trade winds stack up and blow in gusts across the flat sections of Nicaragua, we were expecting a higher sustained wind speed with gusts at about 25 knots. Pressure drops from 2-3 millibars and precipitation were predicted nearly ever night along the coast.
- Tides and currents: We caught the end of the ebb tide coming out of the Gulf of Fonseca and it gave us a nice little nudge. We entered the Gulf of Santa Elena at the end of a flood tide. We definitely noticed a counter current coming down the coast of Nicaragua – at least 1 knot, maybe up to 1.5 knots working against us at times.
- Navigation notes: The current is strong coming in and out of the Gulf and we were glad we timed our exit with the ebb. The Nicaraguan Navy boarded our boat as SOON as we entered Nicaraguan waters. Given that we expected mild Papagayos we decided to stay close to shore, between 1-3 miles, to reduce fetch.
We spent a considerable amount of time hemming and hawing over whether or not to stop in Nicaragua. The international zarpe from El Salvador stated our destination port as Puerto Corinto, Nicaragua but the more we read and researched, the less certain we were about this decision. There were very mixed reviews on noonsite (a good resource for cruisers) and other online sources (e.g. blogs). Actually, that’s being generous, we had a hard time finding any positive reviews about Corinto.
There’s a “marina” under development in Corinto (which is really just a safe place you can anchor your boat, no actual docks or moorings) and I decided to contact the owner/manager, Ivan, to get some more information. The other option in Northern Nicaragua is the marina at Puesta del Sol, which is prohibitively expensive (it’s intended for a different clientele, not a couple of cheapskate cruisers). Ivan responded very quickly (for which I was grateful) but we were not jazzed to hear that he was charging $20 per day for his services (which included a dinghy dock, security guard and access to potable water) – that’s more than we pay for most actual marinas. A charge of $20 a day to anchor is a bit much for most cruisers on a budget.
That pretty much sealed the deal for us. We had been thinking of leaving our boat in Corinto for a day or two while we did some inland traveling, but we simply couldn’t afford $20 per day and couldn’t identify another safe anchorage in Nicaragua to leave our boat unattended. Coupled with at least $75 to clear in and out of the country (maybe more), we opted just to skip right over to Costa Rica.
We left Isla Meanguera on the end of the flood tide under motor and sped out of the gulf at 5.8 – 6.4 knots. As soon as we entered Nicaraguan waters we saw a panga heading for us, three men in military uniforms with very large weapons. We both waved and greeted them, more or less expecting their appearance after hearing that they had boarded SV Chrysallis the day prior. They did their best to fend themselves off of our boat, but the driver wasn’t particularly skilled. Two men boarded our boat, one sat in the cockpit while the other poked around down below, looking for…anything suspicious I guess. We offered them cold water and did our best to answer any questions. They looked at our zarpe and our boat registration and inquired about where we had been, where we were going, e. A relatively easy and painless 15 minutes and they were on their way.
Once we were past Punta Cosiguina we raised our sails to catch a light wind (6-8 knots) coming from the S/SW. The clouds started piling up over land and as the sun slipped towards the west they became unusually dark and ominous. Jeff was resting down below. I sat on deck and watched the clouds intently, like a magic eye poster, trying to discern their direction, wishing they would spill into the Gulf and spare us. I already knew that they were headed right for us…I was just distracted by wishful thinking. As soon as the wind shifted the tiniest amount I doused the main and the genoa, tidied up the decks and turned the motor on. A rainbow materialized in the dark clouds – an omen, a consolation prize?
We didn’t have to wait much longer until we were within the grasp of those sinister clouds. No lightning (thank goodness), but lots of wind and lots of rain. Our friends on SV Calypso clocked 46 knots and the rain fell so fast that it was sharp and painful when it struck our skin. Jeff and I hunkered inside making light of the situation. “So rainy season is over, huh?” Our cabin was dry and warm and welcoming. Every time we stuck our head outside to see what was going on it was extremely discordant – white caps, howling wind, sheets of rain, little to no visibility. Fortunately the storm only lasted 45 minutes or so, and a light 8-10 knot wind from the E trailed behind it. We resumed sailing through the night and once the clouds had all dissipated, the stars and moon were brilliant.
The wind that night and the next morning was light and we were lucky to be making 2-3 knots of progress. When the wind died in the morning we turned on the motor to feel better about our progress. In 24 hours we had barely gone 60 miles. When I awoke from a nap we were finally passing the entrance to Puerto Corinto and Jeff was chatting with someone on the radio. I climbed into the cockpit to see two other sailboats on the water with us! A welcome sight. SV Calypso and SV Chrysallis both checked in to Nicaragua at Puerto Corinto and hadn’t been able to extricate themselves until the early afternoon – apparently it was an experience they wouldn’t recommend to fellow cruisers.
A prominent wind line was approaching from a few miles away and next thing we knew there was 10-12 knots from the E/NE and each of the sailboats took a different tack, with Jeff and I staying close in to shore. I should explain that it’s Papagayo season, which means that the trade winds from the Atlantic stack up on the Caribbean side of Nicaragua and howl across low-lying spots. During Papagayo season they say to expect gusts to reach twice the predicted wind speed, so we were expecting gusts ranging from 20-30 knots. The fetch offshore can also be uncomfortable. With this in mind we raised our working jib rather than the genoa, had our main sail ready to reef and sailed close to the wind to stay 1-3 miles offshore.
For the next day and a half we hummed along, sailing upwind, close-hauled in 10-20 knots of sustained wind with gusts ranging from 25-30 knots, reefing the main when the wind got too gusty, moving the main down on the traveler when it overwhelmed the doctor, shaking the reef out when the winds temporarily died down, putting the reef back in when the wind started to build again, hand steering every now and again to give the doctor a break, trying to keep things as comfortable and manageable as possible.
There was a short period on the third night when the wind more or less died and I could see a wall of rain moving towards us. I doused the sails, turned on the motor and wouldn’t you believe it, managed to dodge the cell. Jeff was a little disappointed because he had his soap and shampoo and loofah ready and was looking forward to the shower. Once the storm cell passed the wind resumed and remained steady/gusty until we reached Bahia San Tomas in Costa Rica. Even though, at times, it was a bit much wind, it was nice to sail consistently, on a single tack for hours at a time. A bit of a novelty for us coastal cruisers. I’m glad that the Papagayos were relatively light for us – they can get downright nasty later in the season.
We arrived in Bahia San Tomas on a blustery morning, just in time for coffee and breakfast. We anchored in 18 feet just west of some pens that are being used to raise Pargo (Snapper), by a gringo professor and his students. Costa Rica is BEAUTIFUL. The foliage is so verdant, the coastline so dramatic. We’re looking forward to our time here.