Having made the escape from the Rio, we headed over to Cabo Tres Puntas for an overnight anchorage.

The anchorage is on the south side of the island, giving the best protection from the prevailing wind.

As we were the last to leave Livingston, it was of course dark when we arrived. The place was full of anchor lights, I counted 12. Very different from our last visit when there were ourselves and 2 other boats anchored.

Once again, it took 2 attempts before the anchor held, but hey, we’re experts at night anchoring now, having had so much practice!!!!!!

What an uncomfortable night, the wind got up and we were bouncing around like a cork. Needless to say we didn’t get much sleep and what we did get was not what you could call ‘sound sleep’.

By the time we woke the next morning, most of the other boats had left. We weren’t leaving until midday, as we were sailing straight through to Roatan and didn’t want to arrive in darkness.

The weather was, as usual, miserable as we set sail. We both managed to catch up on a little sleep, before our night watches.

As usual we did our 3 hours on 3 hours off system. We must have been in a main shipping route as we passed (only just, on a couple of occasions) 4 ships. They just seem to appear from nowhere and are upon you in minutes.

The weather wasn’t brilliant, we hit a couple of squalls and the wind got up, gusting up to 37 knots at one point. Great for sailing you would have thought, however, as usual it was in the wrong direction. It would have meant a lot of tacking to be able to sail it. So once again we motored all the way. Remind me again why we bought new sails?????

We gingerly picked our way through the entrance to the island and picked up one of the mooring buoys. It had taken 24hours to get to Honduras and we were both tired.

But we had to clear in. So we lowered the dinghy and headed ashore. Having been given a heads up by a couple we met on the jetty, we hailed a taxi and asked if he would use Collectivo rates. The collective (local buses) charge 40 lempiras the currency is named after an Honduran 16^th century hero) per person. So if you take a taxi, just say ‘collectivo?’ and he will either say yes or no. When we asked how much, he said $5. So I said that we had no dollars just lempiras and we agreed on the 80 lempiras.

(now the boring bit for non-sailors) The port captain, customs and immigration are all in Coxen Hole (pretty aptly named). You drive down the main street until you see the big HSBC bank on your left hand side. Directly opposite is a little alley that leads to the sea. Go down there and at the bottom on the left is a green building, that’s immigration. He will want your passports and a copy of your Zarpe (the clearance documentation from your last port). You will then be charged $3 per person for your stamp and then you go to the port captain. He will want to see your passports, your boat registration papers and the original Zarpe. He will issue you a sailing permit. Our was for 90 days, the same as our visa.

So that’s how it is supposed to happen. Here’s what actually happened. We went to the port captain, who spoke no English. A most unwelcoming man I have to say. I don’t think it was personal, just don’t think he liked having to work!!! Anyway, he took our Zarpe and looked at our passport and said we needed to go to Immigration.

We went to Immigration and were intercepted by Ken, the ‘interpreter’. He was just another Charlie or Edwin, there’s one in every port. Self-appointed and for the most part, totally unnecessary.  Anyway, he insisted on translating and telling us stuff we already knew or had worked out.

The immigration officer also spoke no English, but told us he needed our Zarpe (remember we had given it to the port captain) so Roger nipped next door (they are behind each other) and got the Zarpe. The immigration officer filled out our visas, stamped our passports and charged us $3 and then handed back the passports. When we wasked for the Zarpe, he said you need to go to customs. We thought he had passed it to them??

On the way out Ken asked for his ‘tip’. Now bear in mind we had only just been to the ATM, so had no small notes, besides which we didn’t even know what the exchange rate was, so all I had was 5 lempira. Roger offered him that to get rid of him, to which Ken replied ‘I can’t even get a soda for that’ and refused the tip.

We went round to customs and it soon became apparent we only needed to go there when we leave the island. So we went to the port captain, gave him our passports and waited while he completed his paperwork and handed Roger the permit. He then asked for the Zarpe, as soon as Roger said we didn’t have it, he whipped the permit away from us and said to go and get it.

I went to the immigration office to get it and it was locked! The cleaning lady (from the port captains office, who spoke excellent English) said he had gone out, but would be back. So I sat outside the office and waited.

He came back loaded with shopping. I told him we needed our Zarpe and he gave it to me on the promise that I brought a copy back to him. The cleaning lady was still outside and she offered to go and get the copies for me.

When she returned she gave me the original and took the copy to the Immigration. I gave her the 5 lempira that Ken had refused, for her child to buy some sweets.

So it was that the Port Captain  finally issued our permit, telling us how important this paper is, we can go anywhere with it etc etc. I think he had warmed to us at the end as he joked how bad Roger’s Spanish was ( or perhaps he was just flirting??)

We took the taxi back to West End bay where the boat is. It is a typical divers resort. I have seen many similar places in Thailand.

Divers find the place, like it so much they set up little businesses and the place blossoms.

The main street runs along the beach and has lots of little shops, bars, cafes and diver operators. It’s a very pleasant little place.

We stopped by the Marine Park Office, as we had moored on one of their buoys. They ask for a $10 donation per person, the reason it is a donation is that if it were a fee, the municipality would take the money and they wouldn’t benefit from it.

It was back to the boat and both Roger and I slept like babies for 12 hours!!!!

The next day the weather was lovely, a little on the blustery side, but sunny. We decided to check out the snorkelling.

There are so many coral heads around and the entire lagoon is enclosed by a reef.

The water was colder than we expected and the snorkelling was a little disappointing, though I have been told since that outside the reef is better.

After stopping by our buddy’s yacht ‘Odessea’ for sundowners, we settled down for the night.

Roger had been a little concerned when another boat anchored quite close to us. He politely informed the chap that we were on a mooring ball and the chap carried on regardless. There was another boat anchored on the other side of us and Rogers main concern was if the wind swung round they would be down on us ( or would we be down on them, can’t remember?). 

Both of us were into good books, so it was a late night. Somewhere around 6am I heard a fog horn and roused Roger, who said ‘probably someone messing around, damned inconsiderate (or words to that effect).

Then I heard it again and said that I think something is wrong. So, reluctantly, he got up to check out the situation and thought, we shouldn’t be here??? Just then a voice from the other boat shouted ‘you’ve lost your mooring buoy’. Sure enough, Beaujolais was just drifting around!!!! (the little minx had decided to go walkabout, probably as payback for leaving her for 9 months)

Another boat dropped their dinghy and came to help us pick up the buoy and we tied up again. Our rope had parted!!!( it was brand new, and had frayed through)

We thanked all concerned, especially our guardian angel (I think it’s Roger’s Dad, as we always sail with his hat on board)!) because we were lucky it hadn’t happened at night. Had it have happened at night not only would we have ended up on the reef, but we may also have hit other boats.