Roddyblog1
Avocet's Adventures Around the World
Derry Ryder
Sun 9 Feb 2014 19:09
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Gerontological greetings from the North Pacific four
degrees above the equator en route from the Las Perlas to the Galapagos.
It is hot, humid and windless and I am slowly adjusting to the reality of a
septuple symbiotic relationship on the 49 foot Avocet. Any pheremonal
fanasties rapidly evaporated with the new generator failure, no water for
showers and main reliance on baby wipes for attempts at civilised
norms. This geriatric romp was regarded by most family and friends as
final proof of a long suspected serious underlying brain disorder.
Galvin's gallavanting commenced appropriately enough with the first leg from
Cork to Shannon funded by the pensioner's bus pass. The omens were
not good with a breakdown in Buttevant and a big storm forecast for Shannon the
following morning. Both were overcome and I left Shannon early on the
morning of 31st January 2014 for Panama City via Newark. The journey took
16 hours with a long stop over and was uneventful apart from my hold
luggage being ransacked somewhere by Homeland Security. I suspect that the
400 small sachets may may have on X-Ray looked other than the Barry's tea bags
for the pining Avocet crew. Nothing was missing apart from the 20
euro lock to enable them remove and replace it easily. Derry and
Margaret met me at the airport and were waiting a while as the non english
speaking immigration officer had some difficulties with a return ticket to
Shannon, an address at a yachting marina and a proposed one day
stay. I don't know why but Shannon-Panama one way is1000
euro and the return fare a discounted 800 euro Also, a young lady in
the queue ahead of me with a very attentive boyfriend became quite unwell,
sweaty and syncopal (I hope it wasnt something she that she ate).
A taxi trip from Tocumen airport to La Playita marina on
the Amador causeway takes twenty minutes; when it is Chinese New Year it is an
hour and a half. The city was gridlocked. The famous Bridge of the
Americas across the southern end of the Panama canal was designed for traffic of
a bygone age and was part of the problem. The whole city was in party mode
and it seems that up to 10% have some of the Chinese gene pool. Much
of the activity was taking place on the party buses. These Diablo Rojas
are old souped up brightly painted American school buses blaring music and
pouring alcohol into the inebriated would be disco dancers in a sardine
can. I suspect that the one carrying the four younger and real crew
members of Avocet had to make extra pit stops and I am not talking
gasoline.
The population of Panama is about 3.3 million and
over a million live in Panama city. The locals that I met
were warm friendly people. There is a huge American influence and the
waterfront skyscraper skyline could have been translocated out of many a US
city. So too could the huge shopping malls and the attire of those within
them. That is the ones that can afford to shop there; Panama has the
second worst distribution of wealth in Latin America. There are multi
million pound yachts in the marinas, many locally owned, but also shanty towns
and large numbers below the poverty line. It is worse outside the
capital where some exist on less than 1dollar a day. Those with
wealth guard it zealously and security guards with shotguns
abound.
The proposed one day stay worked out a bit longer.
There were technical problems with the boat that proved difficult to
resolve. Part of the problem was location and access to supplies but not
least the sense of extreme urgency implied by the Latin 'manana'. Avocets
generator packed up between Cap Verde and St Lucia. A new one was
sourced and put on the boat in Colon. The engineers fitted it in Panama
City. The problem now was that the generator was set at 110V and all the
electrics (including water purifier, microwave, halogen oven and compressor) on
board were 220V. In practical terms, no generator, no shower. It is
a simple matter to adjust the settings but if you get it wrong you blow the
system. The manual is the wrong one and the wiring diagram is in a closed
office in the distributors in Miami. We finally got it faxed down after
three days and the generator was up and running. The other problem was
that the 15HP outboard motor blew a coil and here we go again. ARC control
locate Juan who comes to Derry. They start talking gas bottles and Juan
assumes the engine is fixed and shags off. Eventually the coil is fitted
and works perfectly for two hours and then blows again. The temperature
starts rising and doesnt take long to reach supratropical and interpersonal
contacts are getting very edgy. The skipper has migraine, the crew are on
the piss (when they aren't chasing Panamanian ladies) and anybody contemplating
a Christian Fletcher moment would have been well advised to make love
to a moray instead. The outboard faithfully promised back by noon on 4th
Feb arrived too late (and unfixed) to sail and reach the coral reefs at Las
Perlas before nightfall. We finally slip out of Panama under cover of
darkness and arrive by dawn on the 5th February at the idyllic Islands
of Pearls. We drop anchor off Playa Cacique Hawaii on the
northernmost island of Contadora, the bolt hole of the last, late Shah of
Iran. Paradise regained!
Las Perlas are mainly a holiday destination of wealthy
Panamanians, and particularly so Contadora. The setting, beaches,
lagoons and weather are perfect. You had to watch the jellyfish when
swimming. We were only there a couple of days and had a delightful
stay. There was no pain sipping Pina Coladas and Margueritas on the
balcony of Ristorante Romantica over looking the beach. The salt on the
rim of the glass is very good for dehydration! The island is only
about 600 acres but has an airstrip, a few B&Bs, a couple of shops and
small hotels, a diving centre, boating and whale watching. A
honeymoon couple seeking paradise at half the price could do much worse than
Hotel Gerald run by a german expat and hidden away beside the tiny
airstrip. There are about 40 yachts on World Arc 2014/2015 and the Apres
sailing is lively, particularly for the younger groups. We had cocktails
on the evening of arrival day and a fine beach BBQ on the eve of
departure. Brian and a charming young Italian lad called Lorenzo
entertained us with guitar and song into the night and we arrived back on Avocet
well fed, well wined and at peace with the world. There was only one cloud
on the horizon. The generator was gone again. This time it was a
capacitor probably from lying in a warehouse for six months. No way of
getting a replacement in Las Perlas but we are promised it will be there to meet
us in the Galapagos and it should be a simple matter to fix thing. We set
sail, sans showers, with the flotilla on Friday morning.
Charles Darwin's islands are on the equator and about a
weeks sail from the gulf of Panama. The problem is that there tends to be
a big area with no wind in between and one often needs to motor along for bits
of the trip. We got our sails wrong at the start leaving us with fine
opportunities for recovery from the back of the pack. We did settle down
to a good pace with a cruising chute (I'm picking up all the lingo) and made
good time. My first taste of real sailing came during a night watch when a
sudden squall hit the cruising sail and all hell seemed to me to have broken
out. The young sea dogs said it wasn't too much of concern but I don't
quite believe them. All I could see was the four of them fighting with
this sail blowing everywhere, the snuffer ring snapped in two, Cian swinging
like a trapeze artist on the sail, airborne and half overboard. Calm was
eventually restored, rope burns were dressed and we went on our way, perhaps a
little quiter than before. Later in the night, while I slept, the
lazy bag on the boom ripped as the mainsail was being raised. So
ended just another night on the peaceful ocean.
Things have been quite and soporific since then. We
are currently under iron sail and making 5.5 knots and hope to catch some
wind and head west in the next 24 hours. We fed well on Bonito last night,
a lovely fish that looks like a cross between a big Spanish mackerel and a
tuna. We also caught a yellow fin tuna, small but succulent
looking and more than enough to feed the seven for 24 hours
more. I gather the getting to know you wobbles tend to start about four
days out to sea but no more than one might expect from the rich tapestry of life
called ocean cruising. We cross the equator soon and one is expected
to pay tribute to Neptune. I am thinking of shaving my head and balls as
my payment. I could send the proceeds to the Cork Simon mattress and
pillow fund. It might stop them sending me twenty begging letters a
year. The dwindling baby wipes would probably last a lot longer as
well.
My next blog will be from the Galapagos. We are
really looking forward to arrival although I believe they could give Cavanmen
lessons on how to extract money from people.
RG
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