Crossing to El Salvador (and a surfing adventure!)!

It is time to go to Central America! We did some studying and decided we would visit El Salvador, Costa Rica, and Panama. Other countries in the region (Guatemala, Nicaragua, Colombia, and Ecuador) were having political and economic problems with crime and piracy along some of their coastal waters so we decided to skip these areas. It is approximately a 48 hour sail to cross to El Salvador from the tip of Mexico, so we started the planning process.
We needed a dock to arrive at for Customs and Immigration, we needed a weather window to avoid the Papagayo winds (similar to Tehuantepeckers), and we needed to know how to check into the country. I had been calling a hotel associated with a marina but was getting nowhere. Finally, on a cruiser’s site, I found Bill and Jean, American expat sailors living in El Salvador. I contacted them and all was arranged in the course of minutes! Customs and Immigration would meet us at the dock. We would need to cross the river bar which is not dredged so Bill would have a pilot boat guide us in. Call before we leave Mexico to make sure the weather would allow us to cross the river bar because it closes if the swell is too big. OK, so now we just needed to coordinate all of that with weather and checking out of Mexico. It felt like we were juggling a lot of balls!

April 30, it is time to leave Mexico! We have really enjoyed exploring this country. The people of Mexico have been warm and welcoming and some of the most industrious and hardworking people we have encountered so far. In the morning, Bill went with the marina owner, Memo, to check out of the country and get our international zarpe. It is a process! Memo drove Bill from office to office schmoozing their way through the red tape. The marina office assistant was calling each office about 15 to 20 minutes ahead of their arrival to “make an appointment”. Then they waltzed in handing over documents and receiving documents back while Memo asked how the grand daughter was doing, was there a wedding date yet, or how the kid’s soccer match went, etc. He knew everyone and getting the zarpe was actually enjoyable! Bill returned with our Zarpe and with a smile on his face. We were informed that once we were checked out with the Navy we had to cast off immediately and leave the country. We arranged the inspection and set off to the fuel dock. All tanks full, we returned to the dock for the inspection. The men and the dog arrived, inspected, and helped cast us off at 3pm in sunshine and a light breeze.

The crossing began beautifully. There was a nice breeze so we put up the sails. Then Mother Nature treated us to a gorgeous sunset.

Just as the sky was getting dark we were passing Nicaragua about 20 miles off shore, a panga full of fishermen came straight towards us at high speed. They slowed and paralleled our course and watched us for a couple of minutes that lasted an hour, not returning our friendly wave. They then sped off toward shore. They were probably just curious but it was concerning for us. Just in case, we got out our “weapons”; a spot light and air horns for blinding and disorienting, flares (including a 12 gauge pistol flare gun) for longer range defense, bear spray, boat hooks, various clubs, and of course sharp knives. We turned off all of our lights and our radio to literally go dark, which meant we weren’t visible to other boats either, so we kept a close watch on radar. We hoped they would not be coming back, but made a plan in case they did.
We have two types of satellite communications with unlimited range and the VHF radio which can reach any boat or ship within 10-20 miles in case we needed to call for help. We would try to repel any attempted boarding before they were able to pull alongside, try to repel boarders as they attempted to board, and if not successful then disable all lights and engine so boarders would be hindered in trying to move about or do anything, and lock ourselves into the boat and try to continue to keep anyone from getting below while waiting for international help from the US Coast Guard or the Honduran Navy. We travel about a quarter the speed of the pangas, and they were headed for a certain town along the coast. We figured out distances and what they would need to travel for rough timing of a potential return. After a few hours we were able to relax. And after a couple more we turned our navigation lights and radio back on, very thankful to consider the experience a hypothetical learning experiment.
The wind stayed steady and the stars came out. Overnight the bioluminescence was incredible! Dolphins came whizzing by like torpedos, creating a glow-in-the-dark outline of themselves. Then they would surface for a breath creating a glow-in-the-dark splash. It was like a fireworks show!

The following morning dawned with spectacular colors, a beautifully ominous sign of weather likely to come.

The weather held until that night when we experienced our first big squalls. In the day we could see the big tall dark grey clouds growing so we were able to alter course easily to avoid these small patches of fury. At night, we could see the lightning in the distance and on the radar we could see the rain but too late to totally avoid the lines of thunder storms. The wind would come first then lightning strike after lightning strike with thunder so loud it was making me duck. Next came the pelting rain so hard it was deafening and the whole boat felt like it was shaking. In 20 minutes the whole thing was past and disappearing out to sea. It happened again and again. We must have gone through ten squalls overnight.

Morning arrived calm and beautiful as if nothing had happened. We motored the last couple of miles to the coordinates we had been e-mailed before we left Mexico and called Bill and Jean. He said there were some boats that were getting ready to leave so he would get them over the bar and take us in once they were clear. It would be about 3 hours, which coincided perfectly with the high slack tide. We did circles in the light breeze, playing with different sail plans while we waited. We headed to the meeting point at the appointed time and waited. We called again and let Bill know we were ready to go. He was still waiting on the other boats. Another hour went by and we became concerned. We knew that we had to get across that bar before the tide change or else the waves would be walling up against the river current. It was already starting to switch. The time to get over the bar was going to pass. We called Bill again and he said he was on the way and that the outgoing boats couldn’t get their sh*# together so he would bring us in first.

We saw a panga in the distance emerge from the river with two men aboard. Bill hailed us on the radio stating we were a half mile south of the pick-up point. We were exactly on the map coordinates that we were given in his e-mail but, oh well!

We quickly headed over to him and he said “follow me at full speed please” with no other instructions or game plan. We followed, heading straight in, getting picked up by the first large swell and began surfing along at over 20 knots- 3 times our hull speed!! Suddenly the pilot panga turned left. At Bill’s stern urging (his hands were white-knuckled on the wheel), I got on the radio (not my favorite thing) and asked if we should follow. He answered, hold your course. I felt like we had reached the top of the roller coaster and we were tearing down the hill heading for the loop-de-loops.

The wave passed and we were instructed to head left now (to avoid hitting the bar). The instruction came late. We turned and began heading that way as fast as we could but the next large wave came quickly. Bill tried to straighten our course to make our stern perpendicular to the wave but the force was too much. We caught the wave near our port corner which pushed us sideways. Sacagawea began tipping over and we were traveling insanely fast again, this time over 17 knots mostly sideways! Our kayak was putting up a wake in the water acting like an outrigger on a canoe possibly saving us from being broached. I glanced at Bill, he was straining to hold the rudder straight. Later he told me it was all he could do to hold us straight. “Sorry about that, almost there now” crackled over the radio.

We continued into the river. I was laughing and crying at the same time as I took deep breaths. Bill was white as a ghost then the next moment red faced and sweating. We made it, barely, and the only damage done was to a box of crackers that fell on the floor.
Jean met us at the dock with two ice-cold glasses of rum punch. Welcome to El Salvador!