1/6/07
The chain slowly clattered out until our anchor came to rest on the bottom of this two by three mile open bay on the southeastern side of the Nicoya Peninsula, here in Bahia Ballena. The main awning that doubles as Woodwind’s rain catcher went up, followed by three large sheets tied across the sunny side of the boat to give us a break from the melting heat and glare. Bruce jumped overboard to inspect the condition of the bottom paint and found that the gooseneck barnacles, which only grow on moving objects, had been replaced by the kind that seem to attach themselves with epoxy-strength glue. And so, the scrubbing began.
Over dinner in the cockpit, surrounded by a bay of tropically clad hills, we realized this was really our first “cruising anchorage” since the journey began in June. As dusk settled around us, the water, finally clean and warm, began to sparkle with luminescent light. No more busy estuary or crowded city anchorage. After the many times we’d questioned our intentions during the past two months, the answer hung in the hot night air. This is it ... we’re cruising.
On our first morning in the bay, Bruce pushed my arm to wake me. “Janny, what’s that sound?” I listened for a moment before hearing something that sounded like the soundtrack from Jurassic Park; a long, low screeching noise, echoed over the water. We let our imaginations run wild, finally deciding it must be howler monkeys -- tiny creatures making tough-guy noises.
A 40-ton sailing vessel from British Columbia, Swagman, swung by and our neighbors aboard introduced themselves, told us about the Saturday market and extended an invitation for drinks with them in the evening.
The organic market at the Bahia Ballena Yacht Club bar is run by Honey, an ex-pat who has called this bay home for 25 years. She has organized 38 growers on the peninsula to produce a gourmet selection of produce, cheeses, breads. Most of it is sold to restaurants in the nearby surfer towns. We met Honey and Heart on our first Costa Rican visit when they were squatting on the beach, contemplating a land purchase. They now own a large section of the bay and are working with the local government on a sustainable energy project.
Each day this week we’ve found a new adventure on shore and the water. My first trip to the grocery store was heart-stopping when two large blue iguanas nearly ran me over! The one little grocery store in the town of Tambor was about 105 degrees inside because the fans weren’t working. As sweat poured off me, I slowly made my way down the isles trying to make sense of the offerings. We needed eggs but they only had one left. I passed on it, wondering why it was left behind alone.
One of the cruising boats we met here is Serraya, with Antonia and Peter aboard. Bruce and Peter spent a full day together working on a project to build a jib boom for their boat. Part one was finding a suitable piece of hardwood on the beach. They took Serraya’s small skiff and motored along the beach until they spotted a pile of driftwood logs. Bruce swam ashore, and after ferrying out two five-foot hunks of wood through the surf, Bruce hauled himself back into the dinghy and just then noticed dozens of sting rays swimming below the boat. In his best Crocodile Hunter accent, Bruce said, “Thea’ cousin to a shaak, mate.” Peter, who had seen them sooner, said, “Yeah, I saw them but didn’t want to scare you.” Bruce was just thankful there were no barbs in his feet!
Today, Bruce and Peter went fishing under sail in our small, open West Indian skiff, Funny World. They had four in the bucket and lost a few more before they made one long tack across to the other side of the bay. A pod of pilot whales had just entered the bay and were heading straight for our ten-foot, gray-hulled vessel, maybe thinking they’d found one of their own. There were at least 30 of them, babies and adults who were over 10 feet. Peter and Bruce, knowing how dangerous the situation was, started yelling and rapping on Funny World’s hull to scare them off before they flipped the boat, then bee-lined it back to Woodwind, ending the fishing expedition for Captain Ahab and Ishmael. Might be why the name of this place translates to “Whale Bay.”
Well, it’s time to move south. Panama is still calling our name. This part of cruising -- leaving friendly surroundings and new-found friends -- is the difficult one. The modern world will allow us to stay in touch via e-mail, and maybe, with luck, we’ll meet up again.
Over dinner in the cockpit, surrounded by a bay of tropically clad hills, we realized this was really our first “cruising anchorage” since the journey began in June. As dusk settled around us, the water, finally clean and warm, began to sparkle with luminescent light. No more busy estuary or crowded city anchorage. After the many times we’d questioned our intentions during the past two months, the answer hung in the hot night air. This is it ... we’re cruising.
On our first morning in the bay, Bruce pushed my arm to wake me. “Janny, what’s that sound?” I listened for a moment before hearing something that sounded like the soundtrack from Jurassic Park; a long, low screeching noise, echoed over the water. We let our imaginations run wild, finally deciding it must be howler monkeys -- tiny creatures making tough-guy noises.
A 40-ton sailing vessel from British Columbia, Swagman, swung by and our neighbors aboard introduced themselves, told us about the Saturday market and extended an invitation for drinks with them in the evening.
The organic market at the Bahia Ballena Yacht Club bar is run by Honey, an ex-pat who has called this bay home for 25 years. She has organized 38 growers on the peninsula to produce a gourmet selection of produce, cheeses, breads. Most of it is sold to restaurants in the nearby surfer towns. We met Honey and Heart on our first Costa Rican visit when they were squatting on the beach, contemplating a land purchase. They now own a large section of the bay and are working with the local government on a sustainable energy project.
Each day this week we’ve found a new adventure on shore and the water. My first trip to the grocery store was heart-stopping when two large blue iguanas nearly ran me over! The one little grocery store in the town of Tambor was about 105 degrees inside because the fans weren’t working. As sweat poured off me, I slowly made my way down the isles trying to make sense of the offerings. We needed eggs but they only had one left. I passed on it, wondering why it was left behind alone.
One of the cruising boats we met here is Serraya, with Antonia and Peter aboard. Bruce and Peter spent a full day together working on a project to build a jib boom for their boat. Part one was finding a suitable piece of hardwood on the beach. They took Serraya’s small skiff and motored along the beach until they spotted a pile of driftwood logs. Bruce swam ashore, and after ferrying out two five-foot hunks of wood through the surf, Bruce hauled himself back into the dinghy and just then noticed dozens of sting rays swimming below the boat. In his best Crocodile Hunter accent, Bruce said, “Thea’ cousin to a shaak, mate.” Peter, who had seen them sooner, said, “Yeah, I saw them but didn’t want to scare you.” Bruce was just thankful there were no barbs in his feet!
Today, Bruce and Peter went fishing under sail in our small, open West Indian skiff, Funny World. They had four in the bucket and lost a few more before they made one long tack across to the other side of the bay. A pod of pilot whales had just entered the bay and were heading straight for our ten-foot, gray-hulled vessel, maybe thinking they’d found one of their own. There were at least 30 of them, babies and adults who were over 10 feet. Peter and Bruce, knowing how dangerous the situation was, started yelling and rapping on Funny World’s hull to scare them off before they flipped the boat, then bee-lined it back to Woodwind, ending the fishing expedition for Captain Ahab and Ishmael. Might be why the name of this place translates to “Whale Bay.”
Well, it’s time to move south. Panama is still calling our name. This part of cruising -- leaving friendly surroundings and new-found friends -- is the difficult one. The modern world will allow us to stay in touch via e-mail, and maybe, with luck, we’ll meet up again.
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