LOOKING AROUND GOLFITO, COSTA RICA
Golfito, Costa Rica, Wednesday, 06 January 2010

My first impressions of Golfito, at the extreme SW corner of Costa Rica (i.e., Pacific coast) have been reinforced by being here for a few weeks. For boats and ships, it is a perfect harbour, well-sheltered, plenty of depth, good holding. Golfito is sheltered and calm; it is also rural and sleepy.

The little town stretches itself along the waterfront. At the one end there is a more open space where United Fruit built its town for the gringos. The domestic style is ‘tropical bungalow’ and reminds one a bit of the Canal Zone in Panamá. But, after United Fruit left in 1985 when world banana prices crashed, the houses were occupied by locals and the standard of maintenance is perhaps lower than it should be. This is certainly true of the big banana-ship docks; they are used by the Costa’s (CR Coast Guard) and occasionally, I think, by the US Coast Guard as well. Small cruise ships arrive, but anchor off the docks and ferry passengers in. In a cleft of the high, jungled hills, where morning mists hang around until sometimes mid-morning, there is an airfield with regular daily feeder flights to San Jose. There is furthermore a large and well-visited Duty Free Centre (aka “el deposito”), and on holidays and weekends it is best to stay away. Buyers are after bargains on large household appliances. (They must come to Golfito, apply at the Aduana (Customs) for visitors pass and then wait one day. No doubt this does something for the local hostelry.) Out along the old railroad bed (back in UF days there were no roads in, only railway, ship or plane) there is a smattering of houses, workshops, fish plants and marina cum hotels.

There aren’t many yachts around this year and the destination tourists aren’t coming either. The world economic crisis impacts little Golfito. The sports fishing boats were not active even over Christmas and new Years. The real estate brokers, the tour guides, the shopkeepers and the hoteliers are twiddling their thumbs. CR has a reputation, partially deserved, of being the real McCoy for eco-tourists, and there are plenty of tropical and mountain rain forests to visit. Still, if you are in freezing Boston and trying to make the winter’s heating oil bill, you might just look at the pictures in National Geographic this year.





Yesterday I had to pick up a refilled propane bottle (you take them to the cashier at Supermercado Pearson, which is right opposite the Tourist Office and, since they have U.S.A./Canada fittings, they are sent away to the filling centre. Thursday or Friday is the day to drop them off and you will get them back by Monday. I paid under $15 for a 20 lb. (5 gal.) can. Instead of paying $5 to land the dinghy at the virtual marina (Land & Sea), I simply rowed down to the dock and beach behind the Tourist Office. The docks are not much good to you so you wind up landing on the black, muddy beach. It’s shallow so you can wade in and out. Use an anchor to keep your boat from floating away when the tide comes in. it is also very busy because of the number of taxi-lanchas , bus-lanchas, fishermen, private lanchas and even the police lancha that were there. I sort of had to fight my way in and out, but all was done in good cheer. Most cruisers have inflatable dinghies with motors and are afraid sometimes that the motors will be stolen (they are on occasion) but usually at night from dinghies tied to the back of a yacht). But inflatables are easier to get into crowded and tight places since they just rev up the engine and barge in. A rowboat like ours is handicapped because there is no room to use the oars. But, we have always so far managed somehow. We have always managed, too, by, the way, without a motor. It’s one less thing to fix and maintain (our rigid dinghy needs care and maintenance from time to time, but so do inflatables), and we don’t have to carry inflammable and stinky gasoline on board

I draw my dinghy up the beach and, while I wait for the tide to come back I pick up my propane bottle and do some shopping, then have a super vegetable and beef soup at the outdoor restaurant just at the beach (El Muelecito). There was a big soup bone with lots of meat on it and all kinds of veggies, some of which I didn’t recognise. (It cost Colones 1,200 (roughly $2.50) but very filling. Interestingly, I see several young locals getting wifi at the next table. It comes form the Tourist Office and you can get wifi reception anywhere in the town centre. I chat with various locals and miscellaneous gringos who are waiting for the passenger ferry to sites around the Golfito and the Golfo Dulce, especially to Puerto Jimenez. The gringos are mostly from the U.S.A., but there are English people too. They have all come for cheap land in the tropics and all make some money off the tourists, e.g. tours, horseback rides, hotels, B&Bs for hikers or surf dudes, etc.

Golfito looks more prosperous than much of Panamá City. There is a somnolent business about the place around noon. Dogs lie in the shade dozing, people move a little more slowly. I run into Bryan and we sit down for a coke together. He is looking for engine parts but takes a break from the sun. He always had time for a chat. Or, maybe he is just such a nice guy that he doesn’t know how to shake me off! He explains to me what he means when he tells me that he is “a union electrician”. This means the union has trained him in his job, and the statement has real meaning in the U.S.A., where the companies don’t to the trades training, the union does. They get paid more and they can carry their benefits, etc usually from one qualified employer to another. The most important is the pension, which is funded and managed by the union itself. Bryan worked is high-tech situations like nuclear power stations where, if only for the insurance requirements alone, the wiring cannot be left to be done by wire-twisters. He is 46, worked for 25 years, bought a boat and lived and got it ready in San Francisco, left off working five years or so ago and a year ago he met Amanda, who is a writer and journalist. She moved on board. Amanda is also a sail-maker and canvas-worker and has patched up some of our Sumbrella hatchcovers. They are really nice couple and enjoyable to talk to. They will probably be crossing the Pacific soon too.

I live my quiet life, getting up at dawn, one of the nicest times of day, to make a coffee and read. Then I do some stretching exercises and get at one or two of the little mobs I always have on my To Do List. The last few days I have been finishing the lightboards that I had made in Panamá City. Surprisingly, I don’t actually do much woodworking on the boat, which is disappointing because I like the feel of wood and like to work with it. But for all the horror stories that Clorox-boat owners like to repeat back at me, the wood is almost non-existent as a problem. Engines and electricals, yes. Maybe then sails. If we had a flush toilet or a furling headsail or a cooling system for the motor, probably they would come in for maintenance. Oh yes, and outboard motors. But, wood? Not really. Of course, I do a lot of painting! It’s a wooden boat, after all!

I use acetone and bleach to get the oil out of the teak as far as possible. Then I put three coats of Cetol Marine on it at he little work area at Land & Sea marina (Sikkens (the Dutch Akzo Nobel Group) ‘Cetol’ is a synthetic varnish and needs far less upkeep and less sanding). But it seems to take a long time for everything to gas off and cure, and when I bring them out to Vilisar I damaged the soft skin on the lightboards. Drat! There is a gloss coat you can put on which is better UV protection. It certainly makes the wood finish look really luxurious. But, although it is perhaps better, I use it sparingly because, not only does it take even longer to cure than the regular Cetol, it is almost too lush, like gloss over a woman’s lipstick. Too much!

The two copper navigation lights can be re-mounted now too. They had over the years become very, very grey from salt and sunlight. And then, when the other yacht dragged down on us a few months ago, the starboard navigation light was crushed like a beer can. Ali, the German Welder, straightened it out as much as possible, but it still looks a little misshapen. Put it down to the patina of experience. I dig out a can of copper cleaner from a drawer somewhere and have a go. Hey, Presto! They actually begin to regain their original dark-copper lustre. While the wood-finish continues to cure, I shall work on them a bit more while I listen to classical music on my MP3.