We have had a busy few weeks since last updating this site. We took advantage of lower winds and flatter seas on Tuesday to motor east from Barbaretta to Gaunaja. Our past few weeks have been exciting to say the least (keep reading).
We spent a week introducing Rick and Dan Fishkin to the underwater splendors (7 dives in 4 days) of Roatan and to the many unique individuals/sights to be found in this third world island. They seemed to enjoy our selection of divemasters - Kevin and Crazy Tom - both Americans who moved here for the diving, both intriguing characters with colorful histories. We tried to show the Fishkins both personalities of the island; the commotion and hubbub of Bodden Bight and the peace and serenity of Port Royal.
I learned a key spanish word: "Perdido"! My gal pal Marylin and I went on a hike up the ravine one morning and after enjoying the view from the top, we couldn't determine which of the handful of paths would take us back down to our trail home. We figured our best option was to walk down the other side of the small mountain, on the dirt road, to find some assistance. It was 2 more hours of walking when we flagged down a family in a pickup truck and hired the very kind dad to drive us back over the mountain. He knew exactly where we needed to go and brought us to a dock a few miles north of where our boats were anchored. Luckily I had brought our portable VHF & after a comical conversation with multiple cruisers, we waved to our hero in the dingy!
Dragonfly sailed east to Barbaretta and spent over a week in it's beautiful anchorage withs/v Kristiana, Lonestar Love, Maestro, Kaija's Song, Moon Slipper and Mowana. We had met some of these cruisers in Belize, many of whom are good friends and have sailed this area together for the past few years. We enjoyed getting to know them, learning about the NW Caribbean from their experiences and suggestions. Most of them are buddy boating to Panama in the next month and they certainly made it appealing to join their flotilla!
Barbaretta is a gorgeous (private) island where we observed wild parrots through the binocs at dusk, enjoyed snorkeling from the dingy both in the anchorage and out at the Pigeon Islands (wouldn't you know the outboard engine problems started during that 20 minute ride). I was thrilled to find that Doug on Kristiana loves to draw and we sketched together each day. It was hard to leave this little community but we hope they arrive in Guanaja before we head back east to our next destination.
More on Guanaja later. Now, please strap yourself in as you read "Stressed Out in Barbaretta" (or "I'd Rather be Sailing Offshore than Anchored") by Rick.
Ahead of me (Rick) is a beach with a mountain in the background. The beach isn’t much to look at but the hill – almost a mountain – behind it is absolutely gorgeous. It is completely covered in green and is lit up by the setting sun over my shoulder. A magnificently shaped tree has its trunk bathed in the light and is almost glowing. Parrots talk to one another and occasionally flit from one tree to the next. Whenever they travel much distance it is usually in pairs, difficult to see until they crest the hilltop and are visible against the sky. There is also an airplane runway. It has large cylinders spread out along its length to prevent drug smugglers from landing here. This is definitely 3rd world.
Right now everything is serene. But it wasn’t this way yesterday. The story really begins two days ago when we first arrived in the sheltered bay of this island called Barbaretta – a privately owned island covered with lush steep hills and ringed with coral on all sides. There are even outlying sandy cays with palm trees which complete the picture of paradise.
We chose this harbor because it seemed like it would offer very good protection from the high wind which was forecast to arrive. One of the weather patterns which pass over the Bay Islands of Honduras is referred to as “a Norther”. They are the southern most portion of winter storms which cross the U.S. As the associated cold front crosses the area, it causes the wind to shift from the easterly trade winds to a north or even a northwest direction. A very strong front was forecast and all of the cruising boats in the area were moving to their safe harbor of choice and would remain there for a few days.
Barbaretta was really perfect for the conditions. The island is large and tall and blocks the wind from the harbor when it is from the northwest through the northeast. The harbor has a grassy bottom which sometimes can pose difficulties for an anchor, but this one didn’t seem to offer much challenge. We put down two anchors, and dove on them to insure that they were well set. We were safe.
The storm arrived. Huge gusts ran down the hillside and buffeted us all day and into the night. But the wind was not constant as it would have been in a less protected bay. And the water was nearly flat since the wind was coming from the shoreline and had no fetch with which to work up waves. We busied ourselves by collecting rainwater with which to replenish the tanks. And we did a lot of reading. Only occasionally would we check the GPS and the depth sounder to verify our position – to insure that we hadn’t moved – that the anchors were holding us in position.
Late in the night the wind relented. The rain stopped. The anchorage became quiet. We finally got some sleep. As morning broke we began the cleanup required after rain – drying the cushions, filtering the water caught and siphoning it into the tanks. The sky was clear and there was almost no wind. I was looking forward to getting out of the cabin – to swimming – to fulfilling my curiosity about how far the anchors had dug into the bottom during the hard gusts.
I put on my swimsuit and pulled the snorkel gear out of its storage bag. As I did so I noticed that the boat had swung around the opposite way and that the breeze was freshening. It was odd. The forecast called for the easterly trade winds to rebuild during the day. Yet we were experiencing a southwesterly wind. And it was building. The problem was that our anchorage was perfectly protected from north winds but completely open to those from the south. Worse yet, the anchors had been set for a north wind. Now the anchors would be pulling in the opposite direction – and would have the very real possibility of pulling out, leaving us adrift, with the beach right behind us.
I quickly abandoned the idea of going swimming and started monitoring the position of the boat to see if the anchors would reset. The wind built quickly to 25 knots – quite strong – and the waves began to build, stirring up the water and turning it from azure to brown as the shallow bottom was stirred up. Diving on the anchors to see if they were properly set was now out of the question.
We watched the boat position and we watched the shoreline, which was now very close. Several other boats had pulled their anchors up and were motoring around the harbor in search of a better spot to re-anchor. We considered this, but retrieving two anchors is difficult, especially when the boat has swung around and the lines and chain are twisted around one another. We elected to stay where we were. This wind was not forecast and was, we guessed, just a local squall which would not last long. We hoped for a lull in the wind during which we could more safely and easily re-anchor.
We were wrong. We found out the next day that an unforecast low pressure area had formed to our northwest and had brought these conditions. The high winds would stay all day. But we didn’t know at the time. We waited and monitored. The waves built and Dragonfly was bucking against the anchor lines. Spray was flying up off the hulls. It was bad enough that I knew the anchors couldn’t hold, and probably would not have even if they had not been reversed – had been properly set. Sure enough, one of the anchors pulled up and Dragonfly moved 20 feet closer to the beach. The depth had dropped from 15 feet to under 10 and we were definitely into the breaking surf zone. But the second anchor held.
Now we had a choice. We could try to get the anchors up and move into deeper water or we could wait out the wind with the one anchor holding well – how well we didn’t know. And we didn’t know for how long.
We waited. The engines were running just in case the boat moved back any further. We monitored the GPS. Fortunately it was daylight and we could line up landmarks in the distance to tell if we were moving. The depth sounder was of no real use since it varied by 3 or 4 feet as waves swept under us. The beach seemed to be getting closer – it was definitely less than 100 ft - but it wasn’t.
We realized that we couldn’t remain where we were – the breaking waves were getting worse – every now and then a large one would slam into Dragonfly and cause the anchor line to snap taught. We began the process of moving to deeper water.
The first step was to get the anchor which had pulled up, back onto the boat. If we couldn’t, it would prevent us from getting into deeper water. This process took about 30 minutes using the power windlass to bring the chain in, several feet at a time, before the anchor would try to reset and cause too much load. Finally it was done. We took a break to rest, and reassess the situation. The goal would be to motor up on the second anchor while pulling in the line so that it wouldn’t get tangled under the boat – and in particular we had to keep the line away from the propellers. They would be the only thing preventing us from being washed up on the beach – now a mass of breaking waves.
We tried several attempts, Cindy straining with all her might could only pull the anchor up so far. We couldn’t keep the boat straight into the seas and towards the anchor enough to pull in all of the anchor line. Things were just too rough. Finally I decided that we would have to power over the anchor and try to drag it into deeper water. It worked. We made it to deeper water and we returned to a position near the original anchor spot which we knew was clear of any coral reef.
We crossed our fingers that the anchor would reset, lowered away, put out 150 feet of 3/8” chain and watched. We snugged up against the chain and stayed. New landmarks were noted and the GPS position recorded on our whiteboard. We lowered the dinghy and took out the second anchor. It still was too muddy and rough to dive and check but we were able to winch the line tight to set the second anchor. Our stress level diminished by many orders of magnitude --we were out of the breaking waves and successfully re-anchored.
And later that day the wind abated also. We even got some sleep that night and awoke to a sparkling day with almost no wind. The unforecast low pressure system was but a memory. The silt in the water was the only reminder and that settled over the day. Oh yes, and the blisters on Cindy’s hands from pulling on the anchor lines. They are still evidence that it wasn’t all a dream. With a little wine, even those were not enough to ruin the effect of sunset.
