The weather turned horrendous off the coast of Guatemala and at 3 in the morning Colin stuffed a wave and the green water ripped two of my surfboards off the rail. Lost forever to me, but someone will find them, still in their padded bags and thank Neptune for the kind delivery. We also developed a leak and ripped the headsail. We had to run the bilge pump for 10 minutes every hour to keep it dry. It still wasn’t dry enough to find the leak with the beating we were taking. After a five day battle we were escorted over the sandbar at high tide by the pilot boat. At low tide I surfed it. That was a nervy entrance that easily could have gone wrong. 10 days of touring El Salvador was well earned and then it was off for Costa Rica in my mad dash to meet my mom and brother who were flying in from the US and Japan. 

El Salvadorean synapsis - Noisy buses, "one machete one vote", kind energetic people, a Foreigner concert, mountain lake exploration, and drunk promises that took me to playa Cuco. It was the least expensive country I encountered in Central America and it had good surf.

Nicaragua - Sailed right past it while it slapped the hell out of us. We averaged only 2 knots and could watch the horses on the beach pulling carts faster than we could beat into the wind. 

Costa Rica – It began with a family visit and the theft of my outboard motor. That rendered my dinghy nearly useless with the strong winds and rip currents. It was a big relief to have Colin’s kayaks onboard. 

Soon after we entered Tamarindo, Ryan ran low on money and moved inland to earn funds and begin the next leg of his own adventure. After my brother and mother flew home, Colin packed some camping gear and headed off to explore the rest of Central America. We swapped emails and coordinated his return which would occur in Quepos 2 months later. That meant I was alone on the boat for the first time since we had departed San Diego. It was early April, and I met a girl.

Suzi was lying on the beach in a sexy white bikini, reading a book, as I stepped out of the surf with the board under my arm. The book she was reading was Ellen MacArthur’s Taking On The World, which is about her circumnavigation in a sailboat. Ah – the sailing angle. There’s my “in”. I mentioned that I liked sailing too, pointed out Barraveigh lying at anchor just past the breakers, and we made plans to dine aboard in the next day or so. 

She helped me jug water and fuel to Barraveigh, shop for provisions for the next week and even took a shot at scrubbing the bottom clean of the marine growth that slows the boat. Her stock was soaring. She was traveling alone and had another 10 days of her holiday left before she had to head back to England and resume her job as a police constable. I can’t believe I invited a cop onboard, but I did, and she didn’t get off for the whole 10 days. 

We sailed the outside of the Nicoya Peninsula with a stop in Bahia Carrillo. The northern anchorage that the chart shows became untenable when the tide dropped and the wind built. We moved the boat at 3 am to the southern anchorage. Shaking off sleep and executing her duties was a good test for Suzi and she passed with flying colors. A couple days later we anchored in Bahia Ballena, on the inside of the Nicoya Peninsula, for a tour of the Montezuma waterfalls. It’s a hippy community with a lot of dreadlocks and tattoos. It was also the last village we were to visit for the rest of her time on Barraveigh. The next stop was the Tortuga islands which consist of Alcatraz and Tolinga. While day anchoring at Curu for a tour of the monkey beaches we befriended Mario and Laura and their kids and they towed me behind their race boat at breakneck speed. 

When they failed to kill me, they invited us over to their island for dinner. Turns out it actually was their island. He owns it. He had an amazing system of utilizing solar panels and dozens of deep cycle batteries to power every electrical item. It’s a bit like what we do on Barraveigh but on a much grander scale. The waters around these islands held a bounty of exotic fish, and with visibility of 30 feet it made for fantastic snorkeling.

I think one of the high-lights of our island hopping was Isla San Lucas. It had been a penal colony up until 1991 when it was closed by Amnesty International. It’s since reverted to jungle. If you ever saw the movie Papillion you can imagine what the buildings looked like. It was also one of the calmest anchorages I’ve had since Mariner’s Basin up in San Diego. Even at high tide the wreck of a 300+ foot ship was visible. It seems it’s not the only wreck in this bay, and that at least 2 others lie on the bottom from the days of the Costa Rican civil war. 

Suzi flew home at the end of April. I based myself in Puntarenas while I tried to replace the outboard that had been stolen in Playa Flamingo and buy new batteries. No luck on either task. I sailed down to Bahia Herradura, and surfed there and Jaco. I made a return passage across the gulf to Bahia Ballena and with the help of Lecho the taxi driver, we drove north to Tamarindo and back to Tambor in a day so that I could buy a new outboard without leaving Barraveigh to be victimized again. It worked. The new outboard was too heavy and powerful but it would do the trick until it, along with my whole dinghy were later stolen in Panama.

Late May found me in Quepos, and another nearby anchorage called Biesanz. I hopped between them and Manuel Antonio which is a beautiful park just around the point. Colin returned in June with his Italian girlfriend Claudia and the 3 of us sailed to Drake’s Bay, Isla Cano and then into the protected waters of Gulfito in the southern end of Costa Rica. If you’re in search of unspoiled Costa Rica, and think you may have missed your chance, you almost have, but if you hurry, you can find it here. 

Claudia flew back to Italy and Colin and I readied the boat for the next 45 days and our push to Panama City. We crossed the border in the middle of the night and I thought to myself how the voyage was now becoming even more exotic somehow. Panama is the last of the Central American countries and knowing the history of the conquistadores, pirates, and canal I was fixated. I still find it fascinating and I’ve been here for over 7 months. 

Suzi the London detective flew into Panama and returned to Barraveigh on July 1st. The 3 of us sailed together for the next 2 weeks. I can’t rave enough about the island chains of western Panama. 

Wild exotic fruit, calm clear water, fish galore, and almost no humans made it paradise. We did touch bottom in the middle of the night while at anchor in the Secas chain. That’s always exciting to awake to the crunching of your keel on coral heads. It’s not very environmentally friendly nor kind to my paintjob. I dumped the chain and drove into deeper water to wait out the low tide. We went back at first light and retrieved my 45 lb CQR and all the chain and rode.

We counted 7 waterfalls on the island of Brincanco. The stars at night this far from the city glow are utterly brilliant. I feel sorry for those who think they’ve seen Panama and yet have never traveled by boat. 

We watched the final of the World Cup in the smallest of villages called Pixvae. No restaurants, or stores, but if you’re hungry someone will invite you into their home and cook you a meal for a couple dollars. We then sailed to Bahia Honda, toured the island and drank at the tiny cantinas. A pelican decided to move onboard. I finally had to grab his beak, pick him up and toss him overboard when his toilet training proved ineffective after 12 hours on the boat. 

Isla Rancheria is the small island that sits on top of the giant island of Coiba. We spent so many hours underwater that I almost lost my tan. The sea life was abundant and the visibility was incredible. Colin tried to spear a shark and refused to pay the overbearing park guide so we didn’t linger too long. The cruisers guide promised great surf in Santa Catalina and we were eager for pizza after an all seafood diet. 

The surf didn’t live up to it’s hype and Santa Catalina was made further frustrating by the fact that Suzi’s 2 weeks were up, and she had to return to England. Colin and I sailed on to Isla Cebaco, Bahia Naranjo and Ensenada Bucaro. We spent many hours in the water kayaking the rocky shorelines of the islands and the mainland. Paddling through the outcroppings while the waves surged was not unlike shooting the rapids on a boiling river. It was very exciting with only minor injuries. 

We did find good surf in Benao and after reading Colin’s earlier comments about surfing I wonder if he still feels the same after catching some beautiful waves. The man dropped in like a pro and showed grace from the first ride. I love kayaks too, but nothing comes close to standing on a wall of moving water. The red kayak was stolen later that night. 

We’d been warned that rounding Punta Mala could be a challenge. It wasn’t. We headed straight for the Perlas Islands and made landfall at Isla San Jose. We both knew Colin would be getting off Barraveigh for good once we reached Panama City and now she was close by. We slowed the inevitable by island hopping to Pedro Gonzalez, Isla Bayoneta, and one final night of Chinese cuisine on Isla Taboga for Colin’s 40th birthday before heading into Panama City the next day. 

I hope everyone gets to share that much time with someone of such high caliber as I did with Colin Reedy. I miss him.