Ecuador

Entering the Southern Hemisphere was like being welcomed into Heaven after a couple weeks in purgatory. The wind picked up and a succession of 9 big-eye tuna hit as we drifted across the imaginary line of the Ecuador. We entered Salinas, Ecuador on March 4th. Salinas is a ritzy beach town considered a weekend escape for the wealthy sect of Ecuador´s largest city, Quayaquil. After obtaining much needed provisions we hit the town. Salinas harbors the most divine ceviche along with oceanfront clubs which blast music all night long. We document this on a nightly basis as the water provides a clean passage directly to our anchorage. The culture is pure ¨South American.¨ The people are friendly, family oriented, and emotional. We lost our little brother Tyler shortly after our arrival. He flew back to the States realizing he could not bear to be separated from his girlfriend Natasha in San Francisco. Bret and I traveled to a nearby surfers paradise called Montañita for a couple of days. We befriended four local girls whom we exchanged dancing and spanish tips for surfing lessons.

Back in Salinas, we are fortunate to anchor next to a classic 1928 70ft schooner, Niña. The mother and son, Rosemary and David have proivided good company and sailing advise for 2 twins still picking up the ropes of cruising. Aboard the Broken Compass, the repairs and provisions for the pacific puddle jump are moving smoothly. We are stuck on our diesel engine repair, but are confident we will crack the challenge before our departure. Makai is teething and it is a full time job keeping her from chewing all the teak on the boat. We are now in the Quayaquil airport on our way to Peru to follow an ancient Incan trail.

Transit to Ecuador

I always liked the Hamlet quote ¨When sorrows come they come not single spies, but in battalions¨…

The depth sounder stopped working as we sailed out of the tricky Pedregal River in Panama. Coupled with the theft of our GPS navigation, it made for a difficult exit.

We stayed in Isla Parrida for a day to clean the bottom of the boat. The wind came and we sailed south planning on stopping at Isla Cobia. Unfortunately, the 50 hp Perkins engine made a horrible knocking noise and stopped working as we were scouting out an anchorage, so we continued to sail. As a result, we did not have the opportunity to raise Firefox onto the boat. The wind and seas picked up, towing rings and grommets started popping like a handful of blackcats on July 4th. Around 2am, I jumped in the dinghy to build a makeshift bridle. 3 grommets burst as I finished the tangle of bowline knots and tie offs to the inflatable. Luckily, the last one held and we (me and Firefox) stayed connected to the Broken Compass and there was no manoverboard drill. At least so I thought before trying to get back into the BC with the swells crashing against the hull. I slipped and fell into what I can only describe as black silence. Falling in the water at night in rough seas was not really my cup of tea, so I hauled myself back into Firefox and returned to the safety of the Broken Compass.

Our solar panel purchase in Panama paid off. The generator shut down (later to find out it was a fuel line leak) and we somehow fried our inverter. This left us with no AC power (chargers for satellite phone, power tools, ipod, computers, fans, etc.), and only solar to charge the batteries.

The proceeding windless days made for some lousy fishing, and our beloved ´fish and rice´ diet turned into just rice with seasonings. Now destined for Ecuador to resupply and lick our wounds, offshore fishermen became plentiful as we approached Ecuador. Many of them stopped by the boat to talk, and were helpful in pointing us towards Esmeralda. The port captain was not there, so a naval officer instructed we head another 200 miles south to La Liberdad.

On the way, Tyler (Chief Communications Officer) was adamant that we charge the satellite phone and call let someone know where we were. Since the outboard engine on Firefox joined the rest of the engines in the apparent ´motor labor strike´ I was not very comfortable taking her into shore when she was crippling along at about 30%. We did it regardless. Chad stayed on the BC while Tyler and I left to complete the mission. As the shoreline swell rose up behind us, we were a sitting duck. (I had always wondered how other boats struggled to land their dinghy, but it seemed pretty obvious when your motor only gives you 9hp when you are acclaimated to 30.) The wave crested, tossed Tyler and myself in the ocean, and barrel-rolled Firefox onto the beach.

After charging the phone, we limped back to the BC looking like bedraggled strays. We raised anchor and set sail south hoping the tides would change when we crossed the Equator and entered the Southern Hemisphere as shellbacks.