INNcredible Sea Lodge

Chiapis Marina is quite the facility although the wifi sucks. From my perspective as a cruiser, the only thing I’m starving for when out sailing for days or at anchor each day in a new place is a connection to the internet; and for me that means wifi that I can pick up with my fancy antenna in the comfort of my boat. Not really interested in lugging my oversize laptop up to a stoop somewhere and actually trying to balance this HP Pavillion on my lap while I’m trying to two-finger type and see the screen at the same time. So when the marina advertises wifi but doesn’t deliver I feel betrayed and I’d much rather be at anchor where the air is better, the water clean enough to swim in and make water and beautiful non-sanitized nature is all around and its FREE.

That word FREE has attracted cruisers for years and years. Here we are with boats worth hundreds of thousands and some in the millions (but that is a class not to be discussed here) and yet we’re always concerned with how much things cost. I believe the reason is one of two things or both: One is most cruisers either sold everything to get their boat and finance a hopeful longtime on their journey with no significant outside income coming in; or, it’s just in there blood, making ends meet, being thrifty and frugal with spending money regardless of how easy or hard they earned each dollar. So the conversation most often shared among cruisers is where the best place to eat is, the best place to shop, the price of fuel, dockage fees, etc. and part of the definition of best always includes value not just quality. Some people call cruisers cheap.

Well one father and son cruiser duo took us to their favorite newly found taco place in Puerto Modero where tacos are 7 pesos each. This is a street vendor but they have a cute set of picnic tables to sit and watch them hand make fresh tortillas over their wood fire. They don’t sell beer but OXXO next door does for 10 pesos. So after four of us ate our fill, father David said I’ll pay and got a big smile on his face because the bill was 130 or so pesos which is about $11. David is 69 and has been coming to Mexico for decades and says this is the way old Mexico was and I remember too. There is no better aid to digestion than a fair price for a simple meal.

Well we finally pushed off from Chiapis after waiting for a big Pecker to blow through the feared Golfo Tehuantepec and sailed across what resembled more a lake than the mean and nasty Gulf waiting to blow so hard it can push you a hundred miles out to sea. Thank God and good timing for that.

On the other end is Huatulco, a Bahia of several anchorages and marinas. We chose what most other cruisers said Chahue Marina which hides behind their narrow slot of an entrance and since we showed up at dawn was a bit elusive as the light was not the best. We were the first of about four boats that left Chiapis two days before at the same time but we had a great reception here with folks helping take our lines as we docked. The boat across the way Misty Michael and its captain Chris was such a breath of fresh air. He drove us to get our propane tanks filled (a task that has been eluding us for two months), giving us a guided tour of Hautulco as we stopped to buy produce too. I marveled and remarked over and over again at how clean and tidy this little city is compared to all the basura you see everywhere else. I’ve decided that in all our travels Huatulco gets the INNcredible’s Tidy Town award.

And we had fun going back into town to walk the streets and shop a bit more, finding a juice bar that made to order fresh fruit and vegetable juices anyway you like them. So I ordered a couple carrot/apple and beet juices and guess what Andrew really liked it too. Served in big Margarita bowls those two fresh juices cost 50 pesos about $4.20.

Does everything have to be cheap for my seal of approval? First, it has to be good and then if its inexpensive, its a winner.

You probably think I’m cheap. Well Euclid wrote about many mathematical truths and the one that says if two things each are equal to a third thing then they are equal to each other. So if we already established above that cruisers are cheap too, it goes to prove that I am a cruiser too. So don’t think of me as cheap, think of me as a cruiser.

After getting the hell out of Nicaragua which we entered with a wonderful welcome and left under mandate of Navy decree, we sailed and sailed to A more friendly land of El Salvador and more particularly Bahia del Sol. Little did we know there is a cruiser rally going on to El Salvador and we arrived right in the middle of it. But to get in and out of this highly recommended port of call, one had to find their way through the shifting sands and breaking surf. The recommended entry is to arrive at high tide, radio in approaching the entrance and wait for a pilot boat to come out and escort you through the ever changing shoals that make this entrance so potentially dangerous.

After two days and nights of sailing we arrive at near high tide and radio in. No response. Radio in several times and get a response from another boat relaying the message to the marina that we’re requesting a pilot boat to escort us in. The message gets relayed back and forth and we’re told to hold tight for several hours until they get a pilot boat. it was broad daylight, we’re tired and the tide is perfect incoming and nearing high. Waves are breaking all over the mouth of this estuary and the entrance recommended on the chart plotter is totally out of date to the current shifting shoals of sand. So i motor slowly around the outside of the breaking waves observing the shoals looking for the best way in. A local boat is coming out. I watch and continue to jockey the INNcredible into position to see the route from all angles. Another boat this time coming in proceeds as I observe from just outside.I decide to make a run broadside within the breaking waves to a midpoint then turn left for the whitewater ride straight in. The depth is already only 14 feet, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8.5, 9, 8, 7.5, 8, 7.0, 7.5 waves breaking but luckily not too big, turn in the middle. The water ahead ripples like a rivers rapid and looks downhill and the INNcredible Sea Lodge gets picked up by the incoming rush of tide – 6.8, 7 knots. We’re flying. And we make it no problem. Motored into the left up the estuary to a wonderful welcome dockside by Rally leaders Bill and Jane. Word spread through the cruiser group that the cowboys just arrived coming through on their own in the biggest boat of all.

Bahia del Sol  is what every cruiser hopes for in a marina with the most friendly group of sailors yet.

Being Semana Santos (holy week) the estuary was hopping with families vacationing all about. On Holy Saturday we took a dinghy excursion 5 miles up the estuary to a backwater town of the most authentic kind. Through the maze of backwater one arrives at the site of a giant palapa bustling with people coming and going and enjoying the river front eateries all under this one big roof. Everything local and fresh from types of clams, shrimp, fish and yard birds. Vendors come round to sell you locally grown and roasted cashews, pepitas (pumpkin seeds) and a roped collection of mud crabs. We bought it all and ate some great fish dinners too. But the walk through the long road into town was an eye opener to their reality that is only appreciated in person. Not being able to hide my Santa Claus appearance I came prepared and handed out loolipops to all the children along the way (probably 50 or more). Always on the lookout for the central market, walking through a funeral procession, we find this dungeon of a dark concrete chasm with vendors all lined up with everything including wood fires roasting hand made thick tortillas. We bought all that was good. Loaded with stuff we rode a three wheeled Asian-like open air covered cart back to the water’s edge. Back in the dinghy to motor our way back through the maze of mangrove-lined waterways to the boat before dark.

It was time to go out with the tide Easter evening back through the shifting sands and surf and head for Mexico, bypassing Guatemala because the fees and red tape to visit are not worth the little time we would have. Chiapis Mejico is our next stop 230 miles ahead

In the moonlight, and more as dawn approached, the silhouette of El Salvador came into focus. Mountains, but not just any mountains, come right down to the sea. With the wind on my beam and a starboard tack, I had an unobstructed view all to myself, not a soul was awake aboard the INNcredible Sea Lodge but the captain, meself, on watch since 0400.

There was smoke in the air, trails of it, and upon closer inspection a wee bit of it was coming from some mountain tops (most of it from the ground is burning sugar cane fields). These geologic pistols were smokin’ as if they just fired a round not long ago. Not long ago may be a few lifetimes to us humans but in the vastness of geologic time it’s so recent that the pistol’s chamber still has shells in it, the striker is cocked and the trigger could go off at any time. At any time as it did, like I said just a few lifetimes ago and fired a round that buried whole towns and made new mountains – volcanoes. Fascinating and we’ve seen these Hot Spots before in the Windward Islands of the Caribbean and now all along the Pacific Coast of Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua and now El Salvador; but no more dramatic than here sailing the coast of El Salvador.

Geologists say our earth’s crust is made of plates, moving plates. And in the middle of our oceans new material is being added to these plates pushing them outward toward the continental plates which stand their ground but buckle and fold sending the oceanic plates down. The seduction of the oceanic plates eventually go so deep that it melts and builds up pressure far below the earth’s surface. And just like me, and maybe you too,every once in a whilewhen we least expect it , we blow our tops.

But in the case of these sleeping giants, it’s not all hot air and sound effects. It’s not always cataclysmic either. When it is, the might and fury can make its mark in a BIG way.

So as I enjoy a peaceful sail in this 88 degree water absorbing the dramatic landscape of El Salvador, I can only imagine the real drama that created this now peaceful landscape. As much as I’d like to see one go off, I may not be here afterwards to blog about the experience, so I’ll pass (as if I have anything to say about its timing any how).

Costa Rica is beautiful and its west coast has too very distinct parts: the lower half gets 260+ inches of rainfall annually and supports the healthiest forests I have seen coastside; where the upper half has six long months of drought each year and I am passing through in its fifth dry month and if I didn’t know better I’d think the hillside forests were dead. But Pedro, the taxi driver, assures me that in Mayo the trees become alive and the hills are rich and green. Where it actually changed I didn’t notice a line but the change came quick and dramatic with even cactus growing among the sleeping deciduous forest. I see the coastline as we slowly sail by but I have taken no time to venture into its famous cloud-forest interior. Time even on a long INNcredible journey is  a factor to which I make haste. I’ve lived my life on an eight day per week schedule farming and making wine and running Fitzpatrick Winery & Lodge with my family so I see possibilities sailing that most sailors never even contemplate. But here it is 10 months into the INNcredible journey and we are right on schedule. Would I like to slow it down? You bet.

The water is our landscape almost always on three sides and its not desolate. Yesterday the sea showed us how alive it is with surface entertainment almost non-stop. Those flying flip-flopping rays started the early morning with circus like performances, the occasional giant turtle floated by, dolphins came in groups rushing over to the moving Sea Lodge checking us out fore – aft – amidship and under before moving on. But that moment that a Giant Manta Ray (12+ feet) flew out of the water to make its flip then crashing flop was luckily seen by all of us (but no one had camera ready although mine was in hand). A pod of dolphins so large i first thought I’d seen an Orca powered by. And the sea was boiling with feeding frenzies happening all over – little fish being chased and eaten by larger fish who were then attracting even larger fish interested in those medium fish and so on.

Our fishing  kept pulling in those bonita who seem to love anything with squiggly frills hanging off. But shortly after sunrise I was on my watch and let out a line to start fishing for the day and BANG. Before i could even finish letting the line out and set the drag, line was spinning out so fast I was sure the spool would soon empty before I could slow the outward action. I struggled with this while al aboard were still sleeping but started to make unexpected progress. When I felt I had a grip I hopped up to the bridgedeck to slow the engine down a bit. Then surprisingly I found myself reeling in this big one faster than I expected. When i first saw the fish at the surface but still way out there I knew I would need help to gaff it on board. So what do you do when you can’t leave your pole as your fighting the biggest fish-to-date? You yell like hell for your first mate to rise and shine and get that gaff ready. By the time Andrew showed he was still in his sleepy daze and stared out to see the fish. I yelled, Its right here, gaff it! I already had the fish at our stern trying not to loose it. Andrew got it on board and what a specimen it was – maybe 20 pounds and of a new kind. We looked it up to find it was a Jack Crevale, a fighter anglers enjoy but seldom eat. Here on the INNcredible we eat what we catch or we stop fishing because I don’t feel good about killing life just for my entertainment. So I performed the surgery on this fellow and look forward to savoring its dark red meat. This Jack feeds on sardines, anchovies and shrimp so its no wonder this fish will taste ‘fishy’ (for those Jersey shore folks like bluefish supposedly).

Now let me tell you about Friday afternoon’s Mission Impossible. Arriving in Costa Rica’s last Port of Entry (for us port of Exit) at about 1330 on a Friday, I knew it would be most likely impossible to get clearance and that all important ‘Zarpe’ so we could sail on to our next country. But the alternative was we would have to hang around until Monday morning to start the process. So I pressed on anyhow determined to do the impossible. In Playas Coco (yes, you got it – Coco Beach in English) there are no docks, no pier just beach with waves breaking and a tide that goes in and out to a depth of 12 feet. So that was the first obstacle, gathering all the important boat papers plus all the passports, ID, money and a VHF radio and cell phone and prepare to make a beach landing and not get anything wet besides myself. Then to the Posrt Captain’s office in hopes they are open. Inside the friendly gal laid out in Espanol all i would have to do and in what order ending up back at her office before 1600. It was now 1400. Next i found Pedro, the taxi driver, and told him the mission I had to accomplish. Pedro said $40 and lets go. 28 hard miles away into the interior is where Costa Rica thought was a good location for their Aduana (Customs Office) on the side of the road in Liberia. Inside the tiny office nobody was there but one old gal (I guess I shouldn’t say that because she’s probably younger than I) who was very helpful and although the phone kept ringing and she kept answering it, she got the paperwork done and I was back in the cab with Pedro racing down the country highway back to Playas del Coco. Road construction in town had the main entrance all chewed up and traffic at its knees.  I had to stop first at the National Bank to deposit $30 in the Port captain account and bring the receipt. Upon entering the bank (Friday afternoon) it was packed with locals in line for service. I was doomed already pushing the 1500 hour. I saw a well dressed young man so i asked if he worked there. He did. And in my best Espanol I told him my mission and asked for his help. He agreed and escorted me to a special window and put one of the tellers on my needs. pateintly I sat as she did all that formal shit that she needed to do and about 20 minutes later I was outside and climbing back over the road construction to the other side of the road where pedro was waiting. Off to the immigration Office which again was on the other side where only climbing back over the windrow of road base four feet high was the way into the Immigration Office. Nice thing about the obstacle course was no other customers were inside. The Immigration lady started chatting in Espanol as I was getting out all my paperwork that I was proud was all ready and in order. She perused each page and then started rattling off – and my Spanish mind just went blank. Just like you forget someone’s name and yet you know them – it happens and i was left claiming no comprende and asking for mercy and a fool’s pardon. She looked at me with caring eyes seeing I was sinking in my chair almost giving in to defeat. But she perked up and started going about her business and continued trying to communicate with me and suddenly there was a breakthrough and i was back on her page again. But she needed copies of some papers for which I only had the originals and she wanted to see the other two passport holders for which I carried their passports. nI told her the waves at the beach were too dangerous for my passengers to safely get in so just I, the captain, made the attempt. She bought that story but still wanted those copies. She had a copy machine right behind her but I didn’t want to remind her because I learned from other clearing that they want us sailors to jump and jump high through all their hoops. I put my hands to cover my downturned head showing quietly my depression. She perked up again and made those copies and carried on with handing me papers to fill out and tried to wrap it up. We were almost there when she realized that it was 1600 and the Port Captain would be closing. She took the initiative to call over there and ask if someone could wait for me. They agreed and said for me to knock when I arrive at the locked door. 15 minutes later I got to the Port Captain’s office with Pedro’s help. This is the place where all this running around and collection of paperwork is checked and double-checked so that all important ‘Zarpe’ can be written so we can officially leave Costa Rica and carry on to the next country. I didn’t even have to knock, the door opened upon my arrival. Sweet young senorita put all the papers together for her files and printed up the ‘International Zarpe’. My glee was rising, my inner self was about to collapse from the whole ordeal. I gave here many thanks and $10 bucks which she appreciated. Outside I congratulated Pedro for Mission Impossible accomplished and paid him his $40 plus a $10 tip. Walking out to the shoreline I radioed the boys on board the INNcredible to lower the dinghy and come on in so we could celebrate.

Now, Saturday, the very next day we are back out sailing and just about to arrive at our next inncredible anchorage way out at the point and archipelago called Islas Murcielagos, a stunning collection of structures rising out of the sea. Had I not accomplished Mission impossible my crew and I would have been doomed to wallow away two days sweating under and hiding from the intense sun drinking cold beer and staggering back to the dinghy in the dark to find our bunks on board. I like the alternative of adventure much better.