Settled Back onto Irie and into the San Blas

Mark and I have been back on our floating home and in the beautiful San Blas islands for six weeks already. Time flies! We’ve gotten used to the climate, the routine and the daily chores of our cruising lifestyle. Not that there is much cruising going on right now. We’ll be in this piece of paradise again for a total of two to three months. We try to be productive in the mornings – yoga, writing, internet, boat chores – and to enjoy ourselves in the afternoons – reading or fun in the water - with some social times in the evenings once in a while. That’s the goal, but reality is pretty far from that.

It is still raining and storming a lot, especially at night. This means a lack of sleep (Is everything OK? Wow, did you see that lightning strike hit the island? It was orange, looking like fire on the bottom!), and tired days. A lot of our neighbors take naps, but I can’t get myself to lose half of the day and feel groggy afterwards. There is always so much to do! Weather permitting I try to do an hour of yoga under the palm trees with a friend, first thing in the morning. Then it is computer time and before we know it, the day is half gone. Most of the time, there is more important stuff to do than sitting behind my laptop, like making and baking bread, helping Mark with a boat project, doing some cleaning, laundry or washing up, dealing with the vegetable boat, and so on. 

In between rainstorms, when the sun peaks out, it is the perfect time to go snorkeling. Unfortunately, by the time the afternoon swings by, the clouds have gathered already again. But, on an ideal afternoon, my friend Michele and I go snorkeling on one of the pretty reefs and the men (Mark and Mark) go fishing on the outer reef. My Mark is still practicing a lot, and sometimes comes home with a little fish or a lobster. Michele’s Mark is a very experienced and accomplished fisherman and only settles for the biggies. Since their fridge is full from their recent provisioning session on the mainland, we are the lucky ones receiving half of the catch!

On rainy days, we just hang about our boat, doing a little chore here and there, baking desserts and cooking yummy meals, and reading up about the Pacific islands. We are collecting loads of rainwater and don’t have to be skimpy with our use of water for a change. Electricity is a bit harder to get by, with those cloudy skies and lack of wind. All in all, life is good on Irie and every beautiful, sunny day is embraced and cherished by all. I am looking forward to that ideal day again, with clear skies to sleep well at night and to enjoy yoga and snorkeling during the day. Oh, and to do some “loads” of laundry. Maybe tomorrow is that day? 

Going “Pacific” or Staying “Caribbean”?

When Mark and I were in Belgium and the US this past summer, many people asked about our (sailing) plans. With my big mouth, I was proclaiming everywhere that we might go to the Pacific. It just seemed like the next, logical step in our cruising lives. Mark brought the subject up as well, but with a bit more caution. He had obviously not made up his mind yet and merely started thinking about the idea. To me, all safe and sound in comfortable, stable houses and fair weather – thousands of miles removed from our floating home in Panama – crossing the Pacific Ocean and exploring its tropical and exotic islands sounded like the perfect thing to do next spring.

Now we are back on Irie, relatively close to the entrance of the Panama Canal, and the Pacific topic is “hot on the stove”. The discussion has started in earnest and pros and cons are weighed. Being on the bouncy boat again, with limited supplies, and thunder and lightning storms almost every night (meaning a lack of sleep), the concept of long ocean voyages sounds a bit less exciting and the thought of spending our boating life in flat anchorages with provisioning opportunities appeals, well, a bit more. Reality has set in and we are now faced with the apprehension of leaving everything behind that we know and plunging into a whole new world.

In the past, we both had a relatively easy time making decisions about our next destination and we pretty much were compatible. I’m sure we will at some point figure out what’s next, but this time it is a bigger deal. Once we transit the Canal and make our way west, there is no turning back. We are gaining information about Polynesia – reading cruising guides and sailor’s reports – every day, and during cocktail time, it is our favorite topic. Although we have to take a break from it all every few days, because we are not making much headway in regards to an actual decision. Luckily, we still have a few months to make up our minds.

Pacific Cons – What holds us back?

-          Irie is a very light and small boat to battle big oceans.
-          We have weight limits - we can’t stock up our boat as well as monohulls, meaning expensive shopping along the way.
-          We have small tanks for water and fuel and will have to somehow store extra in jerry cans, which is where the weight limit comes into play again.
-          The first segment to the Galapagos Islands is about 10 days, the second one to the Marquesas, about 30 days (here we are a third of the way to, say, Australia), then there are day hops and week hops further west. Irie’s longest trip so far has been two days and two nights – close to civilization!
-          I will get (hopefully temporarily) seasick, especially in the typical following seas.
-          Our instruments and – most importantly – our autopilot are 15 years old and bound to break at some point (spares for these cost thousands of dollars and are not usually carried).
-          All the books and stories we read about the islands in the Pacific mention how hard it is to anchor in most places (deep anchorages, bad holding, dangerous cuts into atolls, uncomfortable swell rolling into the bay, coral heads strewn over the bottom, anchor chain wrapped around coral – diving equipment needed to rescue the anchor) and how inefficient and time consuming the checking in and out procedures are. (Imagine you arrive after weeks at sea, all shaken up and tired. It takes hours to set the anchor(s) satisfactory, then it takes half the day to check in and next, you have to leave that same anchorage to another one 100 miles way, because the swell is tossing you out of bed!).
-          Getting supplies and provisions is difficult and expensive.
-          Fresh water and fresh produce are hard to find; a water maker is out of our budget and interest.
-          We are leaving some of our favorite cruising friends behind.
-          We will be in an area far away from our home countries, family and friends.
-          There is no turning back, but it is possible to head back to the West Coast of the US through the higher, and less settled, latitudes.
-          The worry that “something bad” happens on one of the long passages – you are literally in the middle of nowhere.
-          We could add years to our cruising lives, because there is a whole new world to discover. (This could be a positive thing, too.)
-          The water temperature is colder and the tides in Panama City are “massive”.
-          We need extra (expensive) equipment on Irie for a trip of these dimensions.
-          Getting the boat ready, transiting the Canal, the need of more diesel and stopping at the Galapagos Islands will set us at least an extra $5000 back than staying in the Caribbean.
-          It will take some time and effort to prepare our boat and ourselves.

Pacific Pros – Why do we want to go?

-          It’s time for something new, after spending five years on this side of the Canal.
-          We (me) are ready – mentally and physically - for a different adventure, new sights, new cultures and new experiences.
-          Irie is in pretty good shape.
-          We have a spinnaker for downwind sailing. (Thank you, Axel!)
-          We said “goodbye” to friends and family for a while.
-          We don’t have responsibilities that prevent us from going.
-          We will meet up with some of our other favorite cruising friends.
-          We (me) are looking forward to experiencing a long time in peace and quiet on the big seas.
-          I am thrilled about all the wildlife we will get to see and the great snorkeling that awaits us.
-          The Pacific – hence its name – is a peaceful ocean and enjoyed by many sailors a year.
-          The weather is generally speaking enjoyable and benign.
-          We will have devices to alarm people if anything serious goes wrong.
-          Polynesia (and Melanesia and Micronesia) is best visited by private boat, and we have one now, so we should take advantage of it!
-          Australia and New Caledonia are good markets to sell a boat, especially a catamaran.
-          If we don’t go this spring, we will most likely never go
-          Our friend Axel, who is in the Pacific right now, wrote us that the guidebooks are very conservative and outdated, and that anchoring and dealing with officials is easy and straightforward, most of the time. It is incredibly awesome there as well, we’ve heard.
-          Axel also says it is possible to find fresh water and produce – you just get it whenever you can.
-          Many cruisers (some of which we know) have done this trip before and thoroughly enjoyed it – some call the Pacific islands the highlight of their circumnavigation.
-          We have time and energy for a new, big project.
-          It all sounds like such an exciting adventure!

One of the anchorages in Panama City, on the Pacific side

The South Pacific consists of many island groups, pretty far away from each other

The Pacific Ocean is the biggest ocean in the world and stretches over thousands of miles between land masses and continents.

Mark and Mark

Mark and I have this great cooking app we have been using for the last couple of years and that we recommend to all our cruiser friends. It is called “How to Cook Everything” and is written by Mark Bittman. Most of the recipes are with ingredients we have on board and there is always room for some substituting or creativity. He also has heaps of tasty variations on the main recipes. The iTouch app is amazing; it is easy to use and interactive. It even has a timer built into it. Many times, we think about what we have in our fridge or cupboards, enter some of those ingredients and come up with a wonderful dinner. Unless we discover – halfway through the cooking process - that one of the specific food items actually had been eaten another time.

Mark likes to cook. Me, not so much. 

One of the luxury purchases we made while we were in the US, was a nice car radio with decent marine speakers. One of the first projects on Irie for Mark was to install his new toy and what a joy it has been for him! After years of listening to good music through crappy speakers, his favorite music now sounds like it should be: crisp and clear. Every day. He is rediscovering the band “The Grateful Dead”. Every day. Loud and clear. 

He loves them. Me, not so much. (Well, not daily, not blaring, and not all their songs. Some of them actually drive me crazy with all their electrical guitar noise and no end in sight.)

So, one relaxing evening in Irie’s cockpit, while we were listening to said band, Mark suggested this “great” idea: if we would cross the Pacific Ocean (if, not when), he would want to listen to the Grateful Dead non-stop. He was sure that people all over the world would send us Grateful Dead songs so we would have enough versions in order to hear different songs the whole 30 (or more) days (how many minutes is this?) it would take us to reach French Polynesia from the Galapagos. (Does he really want me to join him?)

On top of that, he wanted to cook only recipes of our Mark Bittman app during the crossing. (That sounds better to me.) I guess if I want to eat good food, I have to put up with the “Dead”. That is, if his “great” idea takes root and if we decide to go to the Pacific. 

The name of our music and cooking project? “Mark, Mark and the Dead”! If you’ve seen the great (without quotes) movie “Julie and Julia”, you know what inspired him! Personally, I think “Just Mark and Mark, or I’ll be Dead”, would be a better title.

Rain, Please!

When Mark and I returned to Irie in the pretty San Blas islands, our fresh water tank was barely one third full. We were thinking of ways to solve this “issue” ahead of time, while hoping the standing water would still be good enough to drink after two and a half months. But, it is the rainy season in this part of the world right now, so we decided we’d have no problem filling up our relatively small tank, while diluting the water that was already in it. Before we left, it rained – very hard –every other day or so, with spectacular lightning and thunder as a backdrop. It would be easy to collect our needed water supply.

The day we arrived, we caught the end of a massive rainstorm, ourselves, with luggage, but we just missed a big collecting opportunity. A few days later, enough rain fell to clean our roof and decks and to fill our sun shower. Now, we could at least rinse off after our salty showers. In the meantime, our water supply in the boat dwindled down. Every evening, we prepared the cockpit, the jugs, and our two collecting systems for the anticipated downpour. Instead, we saw massive clouds dunking rain along mainland Panama, while the outer anchorages (= here) stayed dry. We became even more careful with the water from our tank, only using it for cooking and drinking. Mark suggested I’d drink beer for a while, to save water, but even that is not enough reason for me to drink that unpleasantly tasting beverage!

Mark and I made plans to take Irie to a small village called Soledad Miria, where they supposedly have fresh water from the mountains. We were not looking forward to this frustration, time, and money/diesel. Buying water in the rainy season and going through all the effort of getting it, seemed a bit silly, but we were getting desperate and sick of being extremely scant. The day we planned to do the trip, other issued appeared that needed dealing with first, like a broken water pump. There’s no need for water in our tank if we can’t pump it to our faucets… or, there is no need for a pump if we don’t have water. Luckily, Mark had a spare and he’s a great handyman, so that issue was fixed in “no time” and we hoped for a lot of rain, one last night.

When you say “I remember” out loud, you hear Irie, but when you think “irony”, be sure Irie is a part of it as well. Towards the evening of said last night, clouds started to gather all around us and the wind picked up tremendously. Mark and I smiled at each other: “Finally!” While other cruisers frantically checked their surroundings and feared another storm, we were applauding it, well, the rainy part anyway. A massive dark grey curtain of rain slid past the mainland, while the wind was blowing over 20 knots from that direction. It wouldn’t take long for the storm to approach us and we were truly anticipating its arrival. Behind us, another front moved from east to west, producing a massive sound and light show. Water spouts reached the ocean and it was an impressive sight to behold, from afar.

Mark and I waited and waited; jugs, hoses and tank at the ready. Finally, two rain drops bounced on our roof and then, the wind speed slowed down and the storm had passed, leaving us baffled and disappointed. How was this possible, with the wind coming from the clouds exploding with water, for an hour? Instead of drinking big gulps of fresh water, we – unsuccessfully - spent our time trying to take pictures of the lightning strikes behind us. What a spectacle that was! Mark managed to film one sequence, which is pretty cool. We went to bed with all the hoses hooked up, but the night stayed dry.

The following day, we had an early start and motored to Soledad Miria (wind on the nose going there and no wind coming back), after confirming with another cruiser they had water there. The visibility was poor, this close to land, but our guide book and chart plotter lead us safely around the reefs. A concrete dock with wooden poles and a set of helping hands welcomed us. When we explained what we desired, an old man walked off and came back ten minutes later with sets of keys to the water “depot”, a small cabinet where the spigot hid behind. He tried all the keys, with no luck. We waited. Mark contemplated getting his bolt cutters out, but we decided against that. After another ten minutes or so, he managed to pry the lock open. When was the last time this water spigot had been used? We just reached Irie’s tank with all the hoses combined and the tap was turned on. We waited… No water was coming out! To make a long set of trials short, the pressure was just too low and the only way to get water was to fill jerry cans on the dock, haul them aboard and empty them into our freshwater tank. This was still quicker than having to anchor and take the dinghy back and forth.

It was a slow process. Every jug took about 10 to 15 minutes to fill, but we prepared for this by starting early. While the sun was beating down on us, we waited and we hoped the job would be finished before the afternoon storms would start. Upon looking into jug number five, the contents were brown. We started all over again with this one, trying to filter the water with a cloth. After a couple of more tries and even more time, we gave up and abandoned our mission. We arrived back at our anchorage seven hours later, dripping with sweat and containing under half a tank of fresh water. The surroundings, our swim in the gorgeous water and the sunny weather slowly erased our disappointment. The best thing to do in the San Blas islands is to stay put in a place you like, without trying to accomplish things involving other people or goods. When you do that: life is good!

That night, it rained.