Belize > Bocas Del Toro, Panama

15 Dec

A month after arriving, the day had arrived to check out of Belize and make tracks to our next destination. After further extortionate customs and authority fees had been paid in Big Creek, we stopped at the nearest supermarket to stock up on supplies for a passage that could take up to 2 weeks, but with fair winds may take 7. With customs consuming most of the morning, we could not depart the marina until mid afternoon so set course to our favourite haunt of Hideaway Caye for a night.

This both brought promise of another great rum punch, and a chance for our friend LV who had just joined the boat for the next month to sample the incredible the hospitality of the owners and therein charming slice of the world. The owner Dustin nipped over to us on the mooring with his daughter in their dinghy and welcomed us back. Crucially it also staged us well near the barrier reef so we could negotiate the shallows with the sun overhead the following day.

After fresh lobster for dinner, we got an early night in order to complete departure preparations in the morning. The biggest outstanding task was to hoist and stow the dinghy, Argonauty. After Argonauty ‘V1’ was stolen earlier in the year, the skipper had opted to upgrade to a new, slightly larger Highfield with a 4-stroke 25hp Yamaha. This had already proven invaluable to our nautical adventures, capable of moving 5 persons and planning speeds, and carrying dive kit to remote dive sites too shallow for Argonauts large draught. Not to mention how much fun it was piloting solo and catching airtime at 22knots!

The stainless steel solar arch incorporates davits for hoisting the dinghy, but the stainless mounting bracket for the outboard on the transom still required a welded repair. With my ropework jokingly likened to some form of Shibari, I spread the outboard weight and hoped it would comfortably stay there for the next 1000nm or so. With hoisting strops adjusted, the dinghy was equally lashed tight and with the Perkins roaring into life. I dove into Belize's azure blue waters one last time to cool off and untie the backup mooring line.

Day 1

Having studied the charts rigorously, I plotted a route out through the great Maya reef. It had become abundantly clear Argonaut, a great blue water ocean crossing yacht was not entirely at home in the shallows of Belize with her 8ft/ 2.4m draft, limiting viable routes. To divert around the reef south or north could be a journey hundreds of extra miles without favourable wind, so I remained hopeful the charts were accurate as our clearance through the shallowest areas would potentially only be 1.5m below the keel.

As the depths shoaled my heart rate and nerves rose, and we progressed cautiously watching the forward and down scan sonar readouts fluctuate and colours in the water change. Oh yeah, by the way, to run aground on these reefs might not only be a personal disaster, the Belizian government have the power to fine you $100,000 for the misfortune of doing so. No pressure then. Fortunately, a couple of miles later the depth began to increase as the sea state rose and we reached open ocean east of the great vibrant reef we'd had so much enjoyment diving on in the weeks prior. Just to add to the excitement, Charles had been busy trying to bring our B&G wind instruments back online. In doing so a fuse blew and I was suddenly devoid of chart data.

Despite my annoyance with Garmin, and the handling of the Navionics product they had recently acquired taking away functionality I already paid a subscription for, I was in that moment immensely glad to still have this form of chart to hand on my phone as I navigated the last shallow coral heads. Finally in the clear the jib is deployed, engine shut down and we surge forwards towards the southern tip of Glovers reef, another remarkable atoll on our path.Satisfied with clearing the shallows and a navigation exercise well executed, I hand over watch late afternoon to get some shut eye before my mid night watch. The sea state builds and as I roll about my bunk as we beat forth, I eventually drift off with fond memories of our time in Belize, comfortable that Argonaut was back in her element with thousands of metres below the keel, and not the fluctuating shallows of Belize’s incredible barrier reef.

Day 2

I wake Alex for the change of watch. As she climbs on deck, the wind which had been consistent and kept Argonaut fully powered up with two reefs in the main appears to evaporate. We debate shaking a reef to get us moving as we wallow in a sloppy sea state and raise Charles to debate whether we tack back offshore, soon the wind bites again and we surge forward close to being overpowered. Coming form a racing background in the English channel, this slow deliberation would not be our norm, but out cruising the Caribbean, with solo watches by night we were learning the merits of conservative sail plans, and not rushing to cut and change sails for that extra 0.1knts. Time to sleep.

In shore on the south coast of Roatan, after a few alarming thuds and seeing a 3 foot log slip out from the transom, I put to the autopilot to sleep and spend several hours weaving between flotsam and floating tree trunks, some half the length of Argonaut. Heavy rainfall has driven these out to sea from Honduras, by day this was manageable, but their presence would come back to haunt us by night.

Later in the day, as I start one of my night watches, on cue the mother of all squalls rolls over us and I’m soaked through. Just missed the rainfall of the second, but it clear after my experiences in the Caribbean 600 race that my reputation as ‘Squally Sam’ has been maintained. We have 2 reefs in the main and we beat on into the night.

After a couple of days beating to windward, we were becoming impatient with the heat down below. Efforts to crack hatches to improve airflow end in disaster with breaking waves flooding beds and the fried onions. The electric oven is quickly isolated along with the AC system as a precaution, after Milton had caused leaking and a small electrical fire in the breaker panel, we weren’t oging to take any chances. The extra sea salt seasoning on the onions didn’t hinder dinner, and soon the cockpit bimini looked more like a launderette, with bed sheets hung to dry.

Days 3 - 5

At 0400 after a watch from 2100-0000, I’m awoken at 4am by LV with some alarm in her voice. Donning my lifejacket with bleary I’m greeted by Charles at the helm, he has a smirk on his face and points over the transom. "Something wrong". He’s not wrong, a 25ft tree is hanging from the rudder and showing no signs of letting go. Despite the strong breeze, we are slowed to a crawl by the drag and the large sea state causes us to lurk about unpredictably. I fasten my tether to the back stay and climb onto the sugar scoop. Charles tacks to fully stall Argonaut and I wrestle the tree forcing it forwards to clear the branch which has hooked us. With the jib backed Argonaut is pitching violently and I’m swamped to chest height.

In my haste to assist, and not expecting to get swamped, I find my wireless ear buds in my shorts pocket. Blast. A fresh water wash and left to dry, only time will tell if they stop charging. With the tree free, we build speed on the other tack and I go to dry off down below.

Day 5

Finally we are cracked off the wind, reaching rather than beating, but the wind we suspect from experience is about a force 6, (as our wind instruments are still broken) creating white caps, and a rolling motion Otto the autopilot cannot always handle so we hand steer. I enjoy this game, trying to top my personal best boats speeds. Catching one particularly large wave, the speed surges to 13.6knts, not bad in a displacement yacht fully laden at around 23 tonnes.

With pasta being cooked down below, I am in the cockpit with Alex now on watch. We see what we have all feared this whole passage, despite being more than 100 miles from the Nicuraguan coast. In the dark at a bearing of about 070 degrees. white decklights of a vessel of with no AIS signal. We had researched and were conscious of the pirate risk in this region, with private vessels being targeted by opportunistic fisherman armed with machetes. We are already running ‘dark’ with out navigation lights and AIS transmitting and we turn out all cockpit and cabin lights.

Tracking the vessel on radar, I make sure the day tank is filled as the wind chooses a bad time to drop. We furl the jib and gun the engine, to approx. 9knots boat speed and monitor the bearing to the target, hopeful we have gone unnoticed. The bearing remains constant and our nerves heighten. We gather in the cockpit and keep spirits high making a riddle about our predicament. Enjoying Parmesan on pesto pasta being potentially pursued by pirates on passage to Panama.

Gradually the suspect vessel falls behind the beam and we began to relax a little, as the range to target increases on the radar.

Day 6

After the days of beating in tiresome sea state and pirate watches, the weather played a new card. At last we can also light the braai without fear of loosing precious food overboard. Lighter airs, blue skies and a chance to change sails. This was my first chance to see the new furling Code 0 in action, and we cruised comfortably until the wind departed entirely.

It was not long until a call of man overboard, and we plunged into dark blue ocean, thousand of metres deep. We swing from the mast head halyard, and are grateful for the opportunity to exercise further than the confines of the boat. Firing up the iron sail, we forge on until the wind begins to fill in again. Down below there is commotion, two hitch hikers have appeared and get comfortable on he bulkhead above the first of our Christmas decorations. Soon they are joined by half a dozen more of their kind. These Barn swallows are not afraid and soon jump on our hands and find spots around the boat to get comfortable as the light fades. Migratory birds heading to south America, they appeared grateful for the rest bite on board heading all whilst heading the right direction.

Day 7

Charles in Argonauty gives the customs officials a hand

“We’re close!” Just past midnight I am awoken from my off watch. I clamber on deck to help navigate the passage inside the islands to a sheltered island. Naturally the two different charts we have still don’t correspond with actual channel markers we can see so we take care to try identify these, not so easy when they blink simultaneously and the weaving channel lights overlap from our perspective. Safely through we turn head to wind and drop the mainsail, before motoring onwards to Starfish Beach for the night before we could check in the next day in Bocas Town. We fall asleep quickly to the sound of the jungle surrounding the bay.

Moving to an anchorage close to the customs office, we make radio contact and are told all the various authorities would be with us in an hour or so. We set about unlashing the outboard and dinghy, and just as they are reunited, a Panga catches my eye. It was the officials, left drifting and powerless as they’re outboard had cut out. We give them 5mins to see if the problem can be resolved, before zipping over in Argonauty, A suspected fuel issue, Charles is soon back for a jerry can, but on his second trip over they concede and accept a tow. It was a pleasant change from Argonauts last 3 country arrivals which had comprised of various engine breakdowns.

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