BOUND FOR COSTA RICA VII: ISLA LADRONES
At sea between Islas Ladrones and Punta Burica (Costa Rican border), Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Hot and tired, we arrive at Islas Ladrones about 1400. The sea had been glassy and the sky nearly cloudless all day. Hot and no wind. The heat from the engine and the heat from the sun are a bad combination and it takes hours to cool everything down.
As we approach the islands, essentially barren but wild-romantisch rookeries for boobies and frigate birds, we spot a Panamanian naval patrol vessel at anchor: L-26 Isla Jicaron. She looks like a converted fishing trawler, the grey naval paint flaking off her sides. But attached to her is a fast lancha with three big outboards at the back, and from the patrol boat’s pilot house there are plenty of antennas. No doubt this is part of Panamá’s effort to deal with drug trafficking, both Panamanian coasts, of course, being one of the main supply arteries from Colombia to Central and North America. We wave to the five guys on board as we anchor in the little patch of white sand in close under the north shore’s bluffs. We are totally out of the large SW ocean swells here, and the holding is excellent. I should hate perhaps to be here in a northerly blow, but for the moment it is perfect. Given the crowded nature of the anchorage, we decide to pass on the skinny dipping today and use the bucket for cooling off.
On two sides of us there are high cliffs with the constant chirping of young boobies, the parents of which are constantly flying back and forth to feed them. The frigate birds glide around over the islands on the thermals, or sit bored in the trees. The booby nests are on open rock ledges. The frigate birds nest in the trees. We spot some serene-looking males with their puffed-out goiters.
The cruising life can be challenging. The afternoon passes uneventfully except we must now decide what to do with the rapidly-ripening frutas that we picked up in Bahía Honda. Neither of us is fond of papaya; by itself it tastes like your feet have gone to sleep (Wie eingeschlaffene Fűsse!), as a German friend used to say. However we find a recipe for ‘green papaya salad’ in our Thai cookbook and decide to give it a go. Surprisingly, we have dried shrimp on board, but of course no more carrots or tomatoes! Tossing chunks or splitters of papaya (plus carrot sticks and small grape-tomatoes, if you have them) in a paste made of ground-up dried shrimp, five crushed garlic gloves, sugar, fish sauce, red pepper flakes or jalapeños along with about one-third of the ripe papaya does not seem promising. As a matter of fact, it smells disgusting. But also, as a matter of fact, it taste rather interesting. A little too fishy for my taste perhaps, but we also heat up some refried beans and mixed the papaya mix into it like salsa and it is a delicious meal. I told you the cruising life is tough!
The bananas have been ripening fast. They are the little fat bananas (orange inside) that are delicious and filling and that you almost never see in supermarkets at home. The five or six avocados also seem to be ripening quickly, so it looks like Mexican again tonight.
During the night, there are some rain clouds around and some flashes of lightening. A stray fishing boat comes into the anchorage after dark and is gone before dawn. The patrol boat’s generators go all night in a mildly annoying way, and they keep their fluorescent strip lighting on all night. If this is part of the drug wars then I guess we are quite safe here. Before dusk I watch as the sailors clean their rifles and other weapons. The fast motorboat never seems to leave after nightfall however, as I had confidently predicted. About an hour before first light at 0600 I hear the sailors sweating up the patrol boat’s rope and chain anchor line and they motor slowly away to the NE.
I stretch out for a few more minutes of sleep, but get up quietly at 0600. The sky is overcast and the sun awning is damp. I start getting it in anyway so it can be stowed below, at which point Kathleen appears with a yawn and still sleepy-faced. She looks around at the sky and the empty anchorage, then starts below again to get things ready. Our drill is to get going as fast as possible after first light around 0545-0600. Kathleen stows below and frequently starts the engine while I prepare on deck. Once we are out and going with the engine running, the mainsail up and the fishing line out (you are most likely to catch something near rocks and at sunrise or sunset, we have been told), one of us goes below and makes coffee. Kathleen usually takes the first shift at the helm and I get to rest after hauling up the anchor and hoisting the sails. It’s usually me who makes the coffee. Later Kathleen comes down and makes muesli or something else for breakfast. This morning she is lazy and starts noshing on the bananas and even bites into an avocado. I slice some now-somewhat stale white bread and smear it with peanut butter for us both. With the sky so cloudy, so much rain around and still no wind, I suspect that the ITCZ is nearby. The huge rain clouds confirm this. At least we won’t have to sit in the baking sun! Only 27 Nm to the anchorage near Punta Burica. Tomorrow we shall cross into Costa Rica.
At sea between Islas Ladrones and Punta Burica (Costa Rican border), Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Hot and tired, we arrive at Islas Ladrones about 1400. The sea had been glassy and the sky nearly cloudless all day. Hot and no wind. The heat from the engine and the heat from the sun are a bad combination and it takes hours to cool everything down.
As we approach the islands, essentially barren but wild-romantisch rookeries for boobies and frigate birds, we spot a Panamanian naval patrol vessel at anchor: L-26 Isla Jicaron. She looks like a converted fishing trawler, the grey naval paint flaking off her sides. But attached to her is a fast lancha with three big outboards at the back, and from the patrol boat’s pilot house there are plenty of antennas. No doubt this is part of Panamá’s effort to deal with drug trafficking, both Panamanian coasts, of course, being one of the main supply arteries from Colombia to Central and North America. We wave to the five guys on board as we anchor in the little patch of white sand in close under the north shore’s bluffs. We are totally out of the large SW ocean swells here, and the holding is excellent. I should hate perhaps to be here in a northerly blow, but for the moment it is perfect. Given the crowded nature of the anchorage, we decide to pass on the skinny dipping today and use the bucket for cooling off.
On two sides of us there are high cliffs with the constant chirping of young boobies, the parents of which are constantly flying back and forth to feed them. The frigate birds glide around over the islands on the thermals, or sit bored in the trees. The booby nests are on open rock ledges. The frigate birds nest in the trees. We spot some serene-looking males with their puffed-out goiters.
The cruising life can be challenging. The afternoon passes uneventfully except we must now decide what to do with the rapidly-ripening frutas that we picked up in Bahía Honda. Neither of us is fond of papaya; by itself it tastes like your feet have gone to sleep (Wie eingeschlaffene Fűsse!), as a German friend used to say. However we find a recipe for ‘green papaya salad’ in our Thai cookbook and decide to give it a go. Surprisingly, we have dried shrimp on board, but of course no more carrots or tomatoes! Tossing chunks or splitters of papaya (plus carrot sticks and small grape-tomatoes, if you have them) in a paste made of ground-up dried shrimp, five crushed garlic gloves, sugar, fish sauce, red pepper flakes or jalapeños along with about one-third of the ripe papaya does not seem promising. As a matter of fact, it smells disgusting. But also, as a matter of fact, it taste rather interesting. A little too fishy for my taste perhaps, but we also heat up some refried beans and mixed the papaya mix into it like salsa and it is a delicious meal. I told you the cruising life is tough!
The bananas have been ripening fast. They are the little fat bananas (orange inside) that are delicious and filling and that you almost never see in supermarkets at home. The five or six avocados also seem to be ripening quickly, so it looks like Mexican again tonight.
During the night, there are some rain clouds around and some flashes of lightening. A stray fishing boat comes into the anchorage after dark and is gone before dawn. The patrol boat’s generators go all night in a mildly annoying way, and they keep their fluorescent strip lighting on all night. If this is part of the drug wars then I guess we are quite safe here. Before dusk I watch as the sailors clean their rifles and other weapons. The fast motorboat never seems to leave after nightfall however, as I had confidently predicted. About an hour before first light at 0600 I hear the sailors sweating up the patrol boat’s rope and chain anchor line and they motor slowly away to the NE.
I stretch out for a few more minutes of sleep, but get up quietly at 0600. The sky is overcast and the sun awning is damp. I start getting it in anyway so it can be stowed below, at which point Kathleen appears with a yawn and still sleepy-faced. She looks around at the sky and the empty anchorage, then starts below again to get things ready. Our drill is to get going as fast as possible after first light around 0545-0600. Kathleen stows below and frequently starts the engine while I prepare on deck. Once we are out and going with the engine running, the mainsail up and the fishing line out (you are most likely to catch something near rocks and at sunrise or sunset, we have been told), one of us goes below and makes coffee. Kathleen usually takes the first shift at the helm and I get to rest after hauling up the anchor and hoisting the sails. It’s usually me who makes the coffee. Later Kathleen comes down and makes muesli or something else for breakfast. This morning she is lazy and starts noshing on the bananas and even bites into an avocado. I slice some now-somewhat stale white bread and smear it with peanut butter for us both. With the sky so cloudy, so much rain around and still no wind, I suspect that the ITCZ is nearby. The huge rain clouds confirm this. At least we won’t have to sit in the baking sun! Only 27 Nm to the anchorage near Punta Burica. Tomorrow we shall cross into Costa Rica.
posted by rjb @ Saturday, December 19, 2009
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