Joy of Shamrock Quay

A walk around deck at first light reveals the treasures that Neptune has offered up during the night hours. For the first thousand or so miles we were given squid, silent visitors slipping in on a wave unnoticed. Then came the usual flying fish, launching themselves onboard in the darkness with a loud thwack against the cockpit enclosure followed by lots of thrashing. Thank God for the new enclosure which we shut on the windward side each night (we’ve become soft sailors) if the gate crashers end up on the aft deck they are easy to push off back to sea almost unharmed with the boat hook, if they land in the side deck then that’s their lot. They are impossible to get hold of to chuck over board as they thrash about shedding their slimey scales everywhere. We would have had half a dozen land not only in the cockpit but probably on our lap one night without the side panel closed. I brush the fish scales off the canvas most mornings.

Other than a wicked late evening encounter with a large pod of dolphins whizzing through the water lighting up like fluorescent torpedoes as they collide with phosphorescence in the water, sailing west underneath the ITCZ was pretty unremarkable. The sunsets and moon rises were spectacular though, must be an equator thing. When we reached 127° west it was time to start heading up closer to the ITCZ ready to cross it. For the first time since we have been watching its position which changes daily, there was an area of ‘moderate to strong convection’ 120 miles south and 90 miles north of 128°, just as we reached 128°, typical. The five days previous had shown this area to have slight convection and only a narrow passage across it, now quite the opposite, too late to change our minds though. So we encountered torrential rain for about 36 hours, periods of no wind which we motored through and then one enormous squall which lasted for hours but meant the sails could come out again and the engine off. For two soggy nights we had feathered friends take refuge, the first night was a small petrel who landed on the winch by the cockpit and nudged the plastic window looking a little peeved that we had shut him out. Good job we had the window shut, it wouldn’t have worked out well for either of us, we were just tucking in to mahi mahi and rice. He wobbled off the winch and went onto the foredeck looking rather bedraggled. The next night was a slightly bigger bird than the petrel, not as daring to try and get into the cockpit, he huddled on the foredeck right by the staysail sheeting track. Not a good place either as when the wind veered we had to roll it away, trying not to disturb him, then a squall about 3am meant a reef in the main and a change again in sail trim. Then a couple of hours later no wind with sails flogging, sails away and motor on, the steaming light giving away his position. The rain continued to bucket it down during all of this, and in a greater quantity than the spray hood and cockpit enclosure could cope with. It was one of those nights, and it wasn’t just the stowaway that didn’t get much sleep. The wind eventually settled from the NNE and the skies cleared early morning, we had come out the other side of the twilight, I mean convergence, zone and into the north east trades. Phew.

We have been keeping a close eye on the weather as always, in the last week two hurricanes, Aletta and Bud, have developed off of South America and there are numerous lows with gale force winds tracking relentlessly eastwards across the North Pacific. They shouldn’t directly affect us on this passage other than ‘mixed swell’ which we are experiencing now. That means it’s coming from more than one direction, not just the wind direction, making it feel at times like we are beating into a sea when we are on a broad reach. Not the most comfortable of seas, but with a steady 15-20 knots of wind we are back up to cracking off 170+ miles per day following a rhumb line to our stop over island of Maui…now only 1,000 miles away.

Only two things I would change right now, a larger selection of chocolate and perhaps a crossword book (I have almost been tempted to tuck into one of the sticker and colouring books I have in stock for the kids on the Pacific islands). My life would then be complete.

After leaving the island chain of Las Perlas we bashed south westwards away from the Gulf of Panama in search of the south east trade winds. Of course we haven’t had the luxury of waiting for a suitable weather window as we are so late already embarking on this passage, so with south west winds 10-15 knots forecast we beat to windward and against a current running up to 1.5 knots at times. This made initial progress slow, tacking as and when the variable winds dictated and on a couple of occasions when they were so light we resorted to motor sailing just to make some westing. The reason for this route and not a direct one, is to follow the great circle route which takes advantage of the trade winds and currents.

Early morning on day 7 at around 3° 51 North of the equator we finally found the south east trades, with squally conditions and a great 20+ knots from the SSE we reefed the main and eventually the jib sail to prevent waves from smashing the hell out of it and hunkered down for a surprisingly bumpy ride. Despite reducing sail Joy cracked on at a steady 8 knots on a reach loving her new powerful main sail. Although we have a few teething problems that we still need to sort out on all three new sails (main, mizzen and staysail), they have improved Joy’s sailing performance. Then late afternoon on day 8 just as we dropped below 3° N our contrary current changed and we found the sweet spot with a favourable current adding up to 1.2 knots to our already cracking boat speed.

Sailing 130 miles north of the Galápagos Islands we steamed westwards and started encountering some entertaining bird life. Boobies of all variations followed us religiously, using Joy not only as a fishing aid catching flying fish that leap out of the water as Joy approached, but also as a roosting perch overnight and sometimes during the day. One night we had a family of three sleepover, two on the bow and one on top of the main mast. It was a choppy sea and quite amusing watching them struggle to balance in the moonlight as they settled down for the night. At first light the next day the two on the bow took off for a reconnaissance flight, one returning to hassle sleepy head on top of the mast who clearly felt he hadn’t had such a restful night. Needless to say the deck, coach roof and solar panels have been somewhat decorated with fishy grey paste, these buggers pooh a lot. I took some photos of a beautiful red-footed booby on the bow one morning preening his feathers, he had an ‘egg-shell’ blue bill with orangey-red and black stripes on the base. A stunningly handsome bird with vivid red webbed feet. We have also seen many small Petrels which resemble swallows, black with a distinctive white stripe at the base of the tail, they flit and swoop on the surface of the water apparently picking up small fish scraps and jelly fish.

Life on board Joy for Jez and I continues as normal except our night watch pattern from 9pm to 9am gives us just two bursts of 3 hours sleep, less if sail changes or reefing is required during the night. I have made yoghurt, granola and ginger beer and Head Chef continues to knock up some pretty awesome evening meals as well as homemade bread rolls and mayonnaise. Our fresh produce is lasting well, so no danger of developing rickets just yet. However I have made a serious dent in my kilo jar of mini snickers so rationing may be on the cards soon. The rod has been providing some tasty fish too, a couple of small tuna-type fish and a couple of mahi mahi have topped up stocks so fish has been on the menu quite a bit.

Adding to the excitement of sailing a lump of heavy steel through the water at 8-9 knots at times on a reach in reasonably settled weather has been the sighting of a search and rescue helicopter, he popped up on AIS doing 95 knots early one morning seemingly following a search pattern relating to wind and current. It took a few hours for him to come into view beneath the thick cloud cover, he didn’t make radio contact just pushed on searching. We kept a sharp lookout just incase, having only seen three or four large fishing boats in the waters for some time now. Maybe it was just a training exercise.

For a few days we had an annoying swell on the aft quarter, giving a motion akin to being in a washing machine on the anti-crease cycle. Unpredictable and tiring, we are glad of the many new handholds we have created in the new cockpit enclosure. The last two days have improved somewhat and we have had enough sunshine to top up our batteries after cleaning the bird pooh and salt spray off the solar panels. Last evening brought the most fantastic rising moon I have ever seen, a huge orange fireball rising above the horizon. As it gained height over the horizon the strips of dark clouds in front played tricks, at first giving it a bandana and smiley face, then a moustache and neck tie. Jez wanted ‘some of what I had just had’ but apart from a very good batch of ginger beer I put it down to a healthy dose of ’16 days at sea’ imagination.

So over 2,000 miles covered as the booby flies from Panama, we have around another 900 before we head across the ITCZ and pick up the north east trade winds which will take us to a Hawaiian landfall some 2000 miles after that. Good job we get on so well together!

After the tiring but excellent canal transit we spent a very rolly night on a mooring ball (actually it was an old car tyre) at the Balboa yacht club for the handsome price of US$41 with a free launch which came out to collect us and take us ashore to pay the bill. Nice touch. With yet more black clouds billowing over Panama City we set sail with Jez’s parents and headed out of the channel to a small island in sight called Taboga just 7 miles away. Leaving the black clouds behind us we sailed through the big ship anchorage zone marvelling at the size of some of the vessels waiting their turn to transit. Large flocks of birds flew across the sky like trailing ribbons, hundreds in fact all in unison mimicking the bird in front, a constant stream flying high in one direction and low to the sea in the other. Like a two-way bird highway. As they got closer we could see they were made up of Pelicans and cormorants. Where were they heading and where had they come from? Who knows, but it seemed to be rush hour. Taboga is a little piece of paradise on the other side of the big ship anchorage, a small spit off the NE corner of the island provides a little bit of protection at anchor from a north wind although the many empty moorings there limit anchoring space so we put out both bow anchors to reduce the radius of our swing. The island is nicknamed the island of flowers for a very good reason. The quirky streets, only just wide enough for the odd golf cart and possibly the only truck on the island, are lined with beautiful flowering shrubs which attract butterfly’s and hummingbirds. The heady scent of jasmine filled the air as we walked up to the church. Jane and I were in our element wandering the rabbit warren of paths pointing out our discoveries and photographing anything that moved, and of course that didn’t. Part of the pretty beach had a large congregation of turkey vultures all irritating each other like a gathering of grumpy old men. The place was very quiet mid week, a choice of good restaurants provided some very tasty lunches after a bit of excercise in the hot sun. It didn’t rain at all while we were there, the island just managed to escape the systems that built up in the afternoon and rolled over Panama City, the only problem was that it changed our wind direction for an hour or two and Joy had great fun twisting our two anchor chains up. When the wind died Jez and his mum jumped in the dinghy and pushed Joy back around 360° to untangle her. It was a good choice to come here for Geoff and Janes last few days in Panama for some sunshine at last and some swimming. Relaxation time over we sailed back to the hustle and bustle of Panama in time to catch the afternoon rain. We anchored off the causeway which is a long stretch of land connecting La Flamenco island with the main land, and home to many anchored boats including work boats and old barges. The stench of diesel fumes filled the air and the chop created on the water by the wind racing across the bay made it a very unattractive anchorage. This however was the best place to get ashore as there is a public dock also used by the ferries, but dinghys can be left safely here tucked around the back of the floating dock. We had used the services of a great local guy called Rogelio the week before, he brought Jez’s parents from the airport and had also provided our lines and tyres for the canal. Early Friday morning he collected Geoff and Jane once again and we tagged along to the airport so that we could top up provisions afterwards for the next leg of our journey. Rogelio took us to the city’s fruit and veg market, a huge daily market with a choice that blew us away. We stocked up with loads of fresh produce, lush green salad leaves made a welcome change from boring iceberg and the pineapples here are deliciously sweet and juicy. Rogelio has a membership card for the bulk buy Price Smart supermarket so a stop there for just a few bits ended up filling up his large car, it’s difficult to know when to stop when stocking up for a few months at sea. He also took us to the port authority and immigration offices to clear out of Panama and get our zarpe for the next port. Rogelio had been recommended to us by some cruisers we met in Shelter Bay, he was a great contact to have and saved us a lot of time and money.

After a few last minute internet jobs to get our affairs in order ready for a few weeks without surfing – well, not of the web kind anyway – we topped up with diesel at Flamenco marina, deflated the dinghy and packed it away in an aft lazarette along with the outboard motor. Then set sail out of Panama accompanied by a pretty intense lightening display. As night fell we were literally surrounded by it, streaks hitting the water and lighting up the dark rain clouds in front of it. The ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ soon turned to ‘aagghhs’ as we dodged the hits, then during the night we actually tacked and turned back to avoid the continuous strikes directly in our path and way too close for comfort. We sailed back towards Taboga for three hours before we felt happy it was clear to tack back, but only for a couple hours when it started again. We then took our chances, fed up the torrential rain and seemingly lack of clear patches without lightening. As it cracked overhead on my shift it felt as though it was frying my brain (OK, I know it’s probably already fried, well perhaps more ‘sauted’). I still wonder how we ever got through it unscathed. The chain of Las Perlas islands came into view in the early morning light, visibility was poor due to continuing rain, and I discovered my poor Aloe Vera plant was up to its neck in the wet stuff…again. We chose an anchorage at Isla Pedro Gonzalez to get a few jobs done and dry off, luckily it was very well protected from the southerly swell but as evening fell we had a plague of flying weevil type bugs swarm around the boat, coming in to land on the deck then shedding their wings and mating. After swatting a few of the early arrivals I realised we were overwhelmed with them and we shut ourselves in. Then we discovered that a few hundred of now wingless randy weevils had squeezed through the mosquito nets in the dorade vents of the aft cabin and were now all over the bed, in cupboards, lights, clothing, hats, boxes etc. We were on a killing spree for the next two hours with spray and swats, just when we thought we were clear I would lift a pillow or piece of clothing and another would scurry out. The ‘lesser of two weevils’ joke was well and truly worn out and we went to bed exhausted. Awaking in the morning the out going tide had brought out a fair amount of rubbish and debris from the shore, not tempting enough for a swim to knock some pesky barnacles off the prop so we headed to the next island south in search of clearer water, avoiding a floating chest freezer on our way out of the anchorage. We found clearer water and dropped the hook so Jez could clean the prop whilst I did some laundry, repotted my poor Aloe and got ourselves straight for the long journey ahead.

Sailing away from the islands late afternoon we were joined by a large group of dolphins, the larger ones rode the bow wave as the younger ones jumped out all around us. With a beautiful sunset followed by a little more lightening we contemplated the few thousand miles ahead of us as we toasted the last sight of land for a few weeks with a beer and popcorn.

We will add photos to the blog as soon as we arrive back in civilisation in a few weeks!