Papagayos

We had 300 miles between us and Costa Rica when we waved goodbye to our pilot after steering us through the labyrinth of deltas to exit El Salvador the morning of December 19th. We cruised with steady wind the first day logging 110 miles and catching a couple Dorado. On the trip down to El Salvador, I had carved a wooden lure after a marlin took my only other surface plug. I colored the new plug red white and blue, and named it “The American.” The Result:




The evening after a strong day, we entered the Gulfo de Papagayos. We had no idea what Mother Nature had planned for us the next two days. In an age of modern technology, man can still not accurately predict the weather or the winds the locals call Papagayos. The first night, we hit 3.5 knots of current pushing us out to sea. Day 2: The waves. Swells picked up to about 10-15 feet with very short intervals. With every inch forward, we slammed into waves pushing us miles away from Costa Rica and straight out to sea. The second night and 3rd day were a blur. Walls of waves crashed over the boat. We surely would have been swept overboard without tethers. Determined to see our family for Christmas, we clawed forward as Mother Nature displayed her power. There are moments in time that stand out:

-The rigging on the port side holding the mast up broke in heavy winds. Angels must be looking over us, because the mast bent at what I can only guess to be 35 degrees and did not break. Running on no sleep for 30 hours, Bret had a brilliant idea to ratchet it down. Two 900lb break load ratchets later gave way simultaneously under the strained conditions and the backup rope attachment salvaged our mast once again.

-The night we were repairing the rigging and nearly immobilized, we had a close call with a tanker. Turning on all lights and in high swells, Bret ran down to hail the “Large vessel close to 11.10 N Lat, 87.31 W Long” on the VHF radio. The captain radioed back and informed Bret that we were not on his radar, but after the call, had seen our lights off his starboard bow.” Assured we would not be plowed over by the tanker, Bret came back up to continue the fight against the papagayos.

-Our jib sheet lines became tangled against our rigging (again jeopardizing the mast). In 30 knot winds a battle ensued to free the lines. The wind tossed the first knife over my left shoulder into the sea. Remembering my knife fighting lessons, (Thanks Mark Bradley) The second attempt was successful.

-The wind ripped through two sails and we turned to our engine for salvation. The engine immediately overheated after requesting more than 1500 RPM’s. (We would later find out monofilament fishing line had tangled around the propeller). We sailed on a ripped mainsheet as wind, waves, and current pushed us away from our destination for hours.


We limped the last two days on a strained engine, ripped sails, and wrecked sailboat. All said and done, we were blown 100 miles off-course. With our wind gauge, we recorded up to 50 knots of wind with a consistent blow of 30-35 knots. We took on thousands of gallons of water and everything not ratcheted down on deck was washed overboard. December 24th we have safely arrived in Costa Rica and look forward to spending Christmas with family.

El Salvador

El Salvador welcomed us with open arms. Clearing the boat through customs and immigration was cake, and we had an entire resort to ourselves for a few days at almost no cost since we were hooked onto a mooring. A little further inland, the landscape boasted thousands of acres of sugar cane fields as we headed into the town of Usulutan. A bustling mercado de national was in progress as locals scrambled to complete their Christmas shopping lists. The only grocery store looked like a club in LA, as people waited in a long line and security only let people in while others came out. Items in established appliance stores had Christmas present bows on them, as guards with shotguns stood at the entrances. The people were friendly, and little girls kept grabbing Chad and I by the arm to drag us into their stores. There were a disproportionate amount of sun aged men missing one arm, presumably caused by the harvesting of sugar cane.

The place we stayed in looked like the Amazon, and included swarms of mosquitoes and crocodiles. We took a short hike through the jungle in search of monkeys with no luck. Makai felt at home in the wilderness and learned to howl in the jungle, breaking the dead silence the night before we left.

Long Leg to El Salvador

We left La Cruz the morning of December 2nd and were blessed with strong easterly winds out of the Bay of Banderas. The next few days were painfully slow as we averaged about 35 miles a day. I felt like strapping on a harness and towing the 18 ton vessel to gain some extra mileage on the windless days. A race proposal for one person to run on land to Costa Rica while the other person sailed was made, but never materialized. As if the sea chose to answer our calling for wind, we were hit by a squall on day 4. With no other structure on the water, lightning is attracted to a boat at sea like birds flocking to a fishing trawler. The winds gave us a few quick lessons on how to handle the Broken Compass in rough weather, and we all came out unscathed. With built up confidence, and falling behind our scheduled arrival to Costa Rica, we decided to roll the dice with the tehuantepeckers. The Gulf of Tehuantepec is infamous for heavy weather and with average weather conditions at Force 6 on the Beaufort scale, tehuantepeckers are known to push cruisers out to sea some 500 miles. Avoiding all advice from books and other cruisers was the best thing we could have done.

We saw more wildlife, caught more fish, and had more wind than we had at any other place in Mexico. Dolphins, flying fish, squid, turtles, and whales frequented the boat as the big eye tuna kept the reels screaming and provided for some of the best sashimi we have ever had. A 100+ lb sea monster tested our fishing tackle. It was an epic battle before we realized we had snagged a turtle, and quickly released her from the line. At night, entertainment was found surfing down waves as 30 knot winds allowed us to make some good headway.



The night after crossing the gulf (Day 11), we had our usual cocktail for sunset and polished off the rest of a slender tuna caught that morning. Keeping a distance of around 25 miles offshore, a low flying plane with no lights flew directly overhead. Heading northwest, it was more than likely on its way to deliver drugs to Mexico.

We just pulled into the small town of Jiquilisco on the coast of El Salvador. The area is rich with fisherman and tropical plants and animals. Sandwiched between the ocean and a mountain range, the isolated area is the type of place you could see yourself staying for a few years. A pilot helped navigate the sandbars and currents through the mouth of the bay. We thought we were making decent speed until we realized 4 knots of it was the current coming in the other direction. I’m sure it is quite common, but watching the pilot (in a speedy panga) slow down for us as we chugged along at 1 knot for 4 hours was kind of humorous.

Some pics of tuna and subsequent meal below:

The Lost Week in La Cruz

Similar to the shipwrecked inhabitants that populate the small town of La Cruz Mexico, Bret and I found ourselves stuck for a couple more days than planned. After barely making it through Thanksgiving we decided that we should obtain the proper paperwork before leaving the country. This entails: finding the port captain of an international city, paying your taxes, getting an international Zarpe with signatures and stamps at every checkpoint. Adopting the Mexican work schedule, we successfully cleared customs, immigration, and the port captain in just under a week. Friday was killed working on the boat which included welding our ongoing leak, engine maintenance, cleaning the bilge, and obtaining the final vaccinations for Makai.. Saturday was a day in Buscerias which is a quaint town a couple miles south of La Cruz with fresh fruit stands, open markets and a nice stretch of restaurants on the beach. We attended an open patio restaurant that evening where we struggled to keep up with far more experienced salsa dancers. We have met some great people here including a cute girl from Seattle named Nicky. On Sunday Nicky joined us as we trekked 13 miles across the bay in our “Dingy” for some snorkeling at Los Arcos which is a couple of miles south of Puerta Vallerta. Bret and Niki enjoyed the tropical views and colorful fish topside as I headed deeper water to score some dinner.



The venture proved rewarding boating three decent game fish I mistakenly branded as rooster fish. They have yet to be identified, but they were pretty good. We stayed in port yesterday as a thunderstorm rolled through and obtained the final piece of documentation for departure just two hours ago on Tudesday December 1st. Bret needs to pick up one more Mexican burrito before we say goodbye to our friends here in La Cruz. We set sail at sunset for on our estimated week long voyage to El Salvador.

Thanksgiving Day

It is 3:20 AM on Thanksgiving as I stare upon the countless stars above the rocking Broken Compass. I click the stop button on my watch and smirk to myself. As Chad is still sleeping at his battle station, I thought I would share our most recent humorous story.

It began yesterday morning with typical high spirits and optimism about a super productive day including boat work, refueling, filling the water tanks, internet, getting Mexican departure papers, and a sailors charity event in the evening before pulling anchor and leaving La Cruz. A cup of coffee each were drunk to provide caffeine aided energy. The water for the coffee came from the dock in Cabo San Lucas, where I specifically remember a Mexican saying, “Agua no drink.” The coffee was consumed with confidence in our immune systems’ abilities to cope with bacteria. Unknowingly, the water was the last of the tank. Our theory is that most of the toxic bacteria live on the surface of the water, leaving last of the water tank supply carrying a potent dosage (not sure if this is accurate at all).

Chad immediately fell ill as I drug him ashore to grab lunch and internet. He left early and picked me up with the dinghy at 6pm. With my stomach already disagreeing with my lunch, and seeing my sweaty pale faced brother pick me up wearing nothing but a towel, I realized it would be a rough night. I motored us back the boat, tied her up, and joined Chad’s call to vomit over the port side of the Broken Compass. Knowing persistence and endurance is the greatest weapon against these bacterial beasts, I pressed the start button on my watch.

It was a beautiful scene: As the sun burst with color across the sky taking its last breath of the day, Chad and I disrupted all the surrounding boat occupants perfect evening with noises only made when one sounds as though they are dying.



For the better part of the night we split up on deck with Chad taking starboard, myself port and Makai uncharacteristically quiet in the back. Ignoring our beefed up medical cabinet out of pride, we both devised separate strategies. Chad downed vinegar with water and overused antibacterial soap to speed up the recovery. I focused on moderating convulsive bouts, kept an eye on my watch, and occasionally sipped water. I enjoyed the company of the Broken Compass every 30 minutes or so as the bilge reminded me of our yet to be repaired leak, emptying herself out into the same waters as I did myself.

Chad just woke up and seems almost fully recovered. Thanksgiving will be spent here in La Cruz for a cruisers potluck and turkey provided by a local restaurant owner named Philo.

Isla Isabella and La Cruz

On our way to Puerta Vallerta we took a detour to a small uninhabited island called Isla Isabella about half way between Mazatlan and Puerta Vallerta. Accompanied by three other sailboats there were flocks of predatory waterfowl circling this bird sanctuary. Exploring the island, we discovered iguana and myriads of large birds protecting ripening eggs and newly hatched offspring. Upon reaching the bluff of the island, we recognized blue footed boobies. As the only explorers on this small island for the day, we noted parallels to Charles Darwin’s expedition in the Galapagos.



We sailed to and anchored in La Cruz (about 20 miles north of Puerta Vallerta) to avoid the traffic of the big city. In transit, we encountered a challenge: A weld on a pipe taking saltwater through to cool the engine cracked and continues to dump an increasing amount of saltwater into the bottom of the boat. Gorilla tape and a rubber hose with clamps provided a quick fix but we hope to find some welding equipment here in La Cruz.
The first night in La Cruz, we befriended a father (Dave) and daughter (Annette) living here who graciously guided us through the area. La Cruz is a very small community designed to accommodate yachtsman and cruisers alike with lots of promise. A Californian investment group recently built a beautiful and overpriced marina last year with ambitions for new hotel. The town inhabits an older crowd of boatman and fisherman, several of which lost boats in hurricanes and have never left.
Makai is growing quickly and is still looking for her place in the hierarchy of the world. She challenged every dog who thought they had territorial rights and avoided four attacks with her increasing speed and coordination. Bret and I look forward to stepping behind our blue eyed princess the Mexicans call “El Lobo” instead of in-between the aggressive strays.
We traveled in a bus yesterday about 25 miles north up through the rainforests to a surfing town called Sayulita. We met up with friends from our Baja Haha race for a day at the beach. Sayulita is a cool little town with trendy bars and surf shops lining a small beach. There was a small break about 100 yards off the beach where dozens of tourists taking a shot at surfing for the day. There are a couple of fishing boats run by an avid hunter and fisherman from Portland, OR named Paul. We swapped some fishing stories and learned how to catch some local fish. Two for two pongas returned successfully that day each boasting a couple of Rooster fish and Dorado. We spent the majority of the day body surfing and swimming. Makai enjoyed a long run on the beach and the popularity that an exotic Alaskan dog deserves in 100 degree heat.
Bret and I are gathering provisions, working on the boat, and attending a charity for young sailors today before embarking on our 8-10 day voyage down to El Salvador.

Mazatlan

Landing on shore of the Mazatlan anchorage at night, we were met by an unwelcome host: the guard dog for the dinghy dock. We took a few steps forward while scanning for potential weapons in the event the dog attacked. Shirtless and shoeless, it would have been a decent fight, but I’m sure we would have come up on top. We slid through the fence of what seemed like a military compound, escaping the dog and entering into our new port. I felt like a Mexican coming into the US, as we had no money or passports on our bodies while we searched for our Mom and her boyfriend Jimmy.

The next day, after three weeks in Mexico, we took the liberty to officially declare ourselves as guests in the country. In true van Roden fashion, we had about half of the required paperwork necessary to clear the Broken Compass and passengers. Ten people (three health officials, four immigration officers, two harbor clearance officers, and our trusty local agent) met with us to clear us into the country. The health inspector laughed when he boarded the boat and saw our lack of provisions, which we thought were more than adequate. The immigration officer was unconvinced when we threw the ignorance card at the paperwork needed to clear port (after he saw our passports were full of stamps). Our agent was happy we hid Makai before clearing the boat, as he had already spent half the day creating documents and pulling strings. A few smiles later, we were legal tourists.

After almost a week here, I would give Mazatlan 2 stars out of 5. The old town and new town are spread out over approximately 10 miles, necessitating taxi or bus service to any destination of choice. Taking an afternoon sail to an offshore island, our diving expedition yielded 4 foot visibility in the murky waters filled with sediment. Much different than the clear blue waters one would expect in a vacation spot. Points were scored for the bar Gus Gus, supped up golf cart taxis, friendly people, and a downtown market with fresh fruit and meat cut straight from a hanging cow.

Today we are provisioning and repairing the boat before continuing to Puerto Vallerta this evening. Thanks for all the comments and posts to the guestbook. We’ll be online in a few days upon arrival at our next port.

The night of the Dorado

We have experienced smooth sailing, blue skies, and great company in the ports of Turtle Bay, Bahia Santa Maria, and Cabo San Lucas. The Baja Haha sailing community is a great group of people and we have made many friends thus far. Heidi, a crew member on the boat Hoya, decided to hop on the Broken Compass as a guest for the last two legs ending here in Cabo San Lucas.
After hearing of the multitudes of fish caught by other sailors down to Turtle Bay, our fishing egos were humbled. Chad and I made the decision that the Baja Haha was no longer a sailing race. I thought to myself, “We might not be the best sailors in the fleet, but we should at least be able to catch more fish than these hand liners.” In Bahia Santa Maria, we began to execute our strategy. As everyone else left at dawn to begin the third leg, we hung back in the bay and slipped on our spearfishing gear.



We had a ponga set up (through drinking games on the Broken Compass with Mexicans the night before) to pick us up and take us to some local spots. No fish, but an assortment of abalone, lobster, conch, and sea urchin provided for a good departure meal. We stopped sailing a few times to chase schools of fish and drift for grouper, but ended the first day with only one nice sized Sierra for shashimi. Night fell and the water lit up under a full moon and clear skies as our trolling rigs were set (two rods with feathers, and a plug on a hand line) when the first fish sent the reel screaming. We ended up catching 7 dorado on Thursday night, with hits almost like clockwork every hour. Satisfied that we can actually catch food for ourselves out at sea, we sailed the rest of the way to Cabo.



We spent two days and one night in Cabo which fulfilled all of our expectations of the town. Baja Haha had a beach party in the day which extended into the night. We parted with a group of survivors to hit the town. Attending Squid Row and Cabo Wabo one party member consumed enough Mexican tequila and needed to relieve himself on the streets of the city. In the back of a paddy wagon for his intoxicated act, some stellar negotiating from two local Cabo girls and a $50 bribe aided in his evasion of prison. In an effort to pursue the path less traveled, we are off again to cross the sea of Cortez and looking forward to meeting up with family in Mazatlan.

... I had to add a pic of Makai enjoying the fish:

First Storm

All the Baja-Haha sailors were warned of a storm 2 days away with large swells and up to 25 knots of wind. The majority of the race planned to take refuge in the many harbors along the coast and that only the hardiest of sailors were advised by the Baja Haha committee to continue. Bret turned to me and asked, “How rugged can sailors possibly be?” I responded, “Let’s find out.” as we headed out to sea leaving the majority of the fleet to cruise the coastline. The first day was bliss with smooth sailing and our first fish caught while trolling. A beautiful 5 pound Mahi Mahi from a blue feather provided some sushi and good protein dinner. The storm kicked up around 3pm the following day with winds and swells lifting. We would later find out later our fisherman friends at home in San Pedro did not leave the harbor under these conditions. A little nervous at testing our skills in our first storm, Bret and I decided to stick together. Without the luxury of an autopilot, one person had to man the helm while the other attempted to get some sleep. In a storm with 20ft swells and up to 30 knots of wind, we could not afford to leave the helm for even a few seconds to awake the other down in the cabin. The result, on person captained 1 hour shifts while the other lay tethered to a cleat attempting to sleep with the occasional wave crashing over the gunnels. Makai was stationed in the cabin surrounded by pile of blankets pillows trying unsuccessfully to dodge books and other parcels flying around. During the climax of the storm and over the roaring winds, I heard clawing and whimpering in the cabin. Makai had climbed the three large steps to the kitchen counter and was perched at the door come outside. As Bret granted her this wish, she took off for the bow to her “poop mat.” Luckily, Bret caught up to with a rope to keep her on the boat. We experienced an accidental jibe which ripped the bracket holding the boom to the boat. I kicked Bret awake and I proceeded to lasso the wiping boom and take down the mainsail in 20+ and knots of wind. We rode out the storm with minimal damage and arrived safely in Turtle bay on the Thursday evening October 30^th. Tuning into the radio, we discovered others had not been as fortunate. One sailboat was struck by a whale during the storm and sank as their wet and cold crew was saved by the coastguard. Another boat issued a distress call after running into a crab pot that entangled the prop and rudder. Close to the harbor, they managed to limp their way in. It is now Friday morning. Makai is desperately seeking firm ground to step on and we have a beach party with the other boats to attend. We will depart for Santa Bajia on Saturday afternoon. It is a shorter leg we are all looking forward to.

Baja-Haha

Our adventure began before we left the US. On our way down to San Diego from San Pedro, we experienced thick fog through the night with visibility at about 200ft at times. We slowly sailed along unaware of what lie ahead except for the GPS map showing where land is present. Escaping the fog the next morning, we encountered another trial. On the phone distracted and in between a helmsman transition, the Broken Compass kissed a shoal and came to an abrupt hault in the San Diego Bay. Ingenuity and our oversized 'rescue' dighy named Firefox heeled us back to the safety of the channel. Luckily, the bottom was sand and it was merely a practice in problem solving. One port harbor down, lots to go!

We are setting sail out of the bay this morning as I write this. Chad is washing down the deck to 'pretty her up' for the departure parade. Makai seems anxious, apparently sensing something new is on the horizon... or she may just be waiting for breakfast. Either way, we are all excited and feel ready for the rough seas and 350 nm initial leg of the Baja-Haha.

Two steps forward...

Currently surrounded by an inverter, batt monitor, alternator, 3 disconnected batteries, and half a pot of Idahoan mashed potatoes, we have been tying up loose ends in the last week before we head off to San Diego. Waiting for updated passports to come back in the mail, vaccinations/drugs, saying goodbyes, putting junk in storage, testing equipment, and adding final touches to the boat has taken up most of our time. Makai just got her puppy vaccination pack #1, but will have to wait till Mexico to get #2 and rabies shots. 'Broken Compass' name was sealed on the back of the boat yesterday, and we started the tedious process of tying cones to our braided line for our 'save me' Jordan Series Drogue.

Today Chad went up the mast to attach a new wind vane onto the VHF antenna. Hanging 60 ft in the air, he demanded I send a camera up on the halyard since it was a "beautiful sunset view." Having climbing experience, we know the value of checking all harness buckles and knots. We forewent the same scrutiny with the knot holding the bucket to Chad's harness, which took the long fall from the mast top to the dock and into the drink.

Lost items: our last digital camera, VHF antenna, and our brand new wind vane.

Tomorrow's projects: buy new camera, VHF antenna, wind vane, and send myself up the mast to reattempt installation.

Compliments of the iPhone, here's a picture of Makai hard at work on the battery bank

California Sunset

To articulate the past weekend in a few paragraphs will be difficult.

On Thursday we sailed down to Mission Bay with Chris Pike and Troy Grasinger, two guys Chad worked with at Union Bank of California. The 19 hour sail went well, and early morning porpoises and pilot whales made for some good sightseeing.

We met up with friends in Pacific Beach to relax, hang out on the beach, and watch an upcoming band Inside Switch (www.myspace.com/insideswitch) record their first album. We left San Diego Saturday evening with a crew of 7: Myself, Chad, Patrick Tell, Christina Damiano, Sejal Patel, Tony Crowell, and Nate Barnard. Sejal and Christina whipped up some amazing chicken stirfry, Nate and Tony kept watch like nighthawks, and Patrick crewed like a seasoned sailor. We arrived in Emerald Bay at 8am for breakfast on the boat and dighy assembly.

Todd Miller telescoped the crew's arrival from his castle overlooking Emerald Bay. We breached the shoreline at noon. In true Miller form, the beach was lined with activities and beverages. Joselyn Miller introduced Makai to her new best friend, a 3 month old english bull dog named Twiggy. The two battled tit for tat the entire afternoon as we reunited with old fishing friends from an Annual Sea of Cortez trip that Joselyn's father had chartered for almost two decades. A short sail partially convinced the elite athletes and adventures of Southern Californina we are ready for our voyage. The evening continued with a feast and toasts of farewell and blessings up at the castle. Armed with platnum patron and a dighy of 7 (including Makai) we shoved off for the Broken compass at 9pm. The darkness cloaked a small breaker on the way out which nearly swamped the tender and crew. Wet, cold and exhausted the crew pulled anchor and endured the 6 hour trip back to San Pedro.

We couldn't have imagined a better weekend.

Towards the Sea

Preparations have been going well. Jimmy, owner of Jimmy G patios in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, has helped reinforce the foredeck and is now working with Chad to build out an icebox. All major changes will be complete by the end of the week for our final practice sail down to San Diego and back.


More importantly, Chad and I made a big decision this week. Against all local sailor advice forbidding the presence of a female as part of the crew, we decided some estrogen on board would probably be a good idea. Last night we went out and interviewed 5 females. Characteristically, we administered tests of strength, agility, intelligence, and personality. The girl meeting the rigorous trials is hypercompetitive, blue eyed and carries herself with confidence. Her name is Makai, Hawaiian for ‘towards the sea’.


Here’s a picture of our new crew member after her first night on the Broken Compass:

Back from the Island

We just returned from another practice sail out to Catalina and received to green light to move forward from our honorary guest. Our Dad (not a sailor, but a fisherman) critiqued the outstanding safety issues and caught a few small kelp bass in the process. Notably, these were the first fish by rod and reel caught on the Broken Compass. It was a beautiful weekend on the island, and we spent time walking around the gift shops, looking for fish, and cleaning the bottom of the boat (which was long overdue).

Getting back, we sold Chad's truck last night. Since the Kawasaki ninja decided on it's own accord to take a breather, we are down to the Jeep. With less than one month before we depart, we are leaning our mainland toys and beefing up on supplies. We now have 55 cans of chili on the boat... everyone at the grocery store gives you weird looks when you have a cart full of one item.

The spreadsheet of "action items" is calling my name, so till next time...

Judgement Day

Cool new gear! We received a great package in the mail with embroidered sailing shirts, "The best" socks for cold weather and a celestial navigation book. Thanks Liz! We look professional, however we have one final test to pass. There is one person Bret and I decided to give unconditional authority over our sailing departure date. Our Father. He understands our motives and abilities better than anyone else on this planet. After 2 months of research, modifications, practice and construction; we are a little behind schedule which leaves us at a slight disadvantage. Our father arrives tomorrow afternoon to sail out to Catalina on the Broken Compass. He will test our knowledge, skills, and safety. Our pass/fail verdict will be presented Sunday upon our return from Catalina of whether we are ready to sail. Wish us well and pray for wind.

Less than 40 days

Well, we are less than 40 days away from our scheduled departure (October 25th), and the list of things to do is mounting as our time seems to be flying by. Regardless, a departure date is a departure date, ready or not. It would take something pretty serious to stop our plans. We have been researching, working, and purchasing needed equipment tirelessly. The boat is 'under construction,' meaning we put full cover over it so we can leave tools on the deck without other people in the marina complaining.

We also took down the jibsheet, ripped up some of the decking, half hazardly (or more hazardly!) taken apart the electrical system, as we are waiting on replacement parts/materials. I scraped and sanded off the old name from the transom.

Basically, we are currently unsailable, nameless, and without power. Can't wait to pull the pieces together and make this happen! I've always liked a challenge, and the timeclock is always a good competitor, so here we go....