If there is a God, why did he make me an atheist? See, that was his first mistake....No, actually, the talking snake was his first mistake".
- Ricky Gervais - (in an interview)
Golfito, Costa Rica
Golfito town is a long and narrow strip between the hills and the bay. A home of approx. 7000 people, according to the stats and 20 000 people according to some other web resource. (Isn't internet great? You have full access to all information regardless to its possible level of truth or accuracy.) Whatever their numbers, every single one of them Ticos was friendly.
Like most people who enthusiastically start to do a blog or a web site of their cruise, I too have lost interest in it. My first excuse is that this is not a blog. My second excuse is that I started all this ranting and carrying on and writing online almost ten years ago, making it so far the longest lasting committment in my life. I hope to break that record, perhaps in some more important area of my life. Every 10 years is a good time to re-invent yourself. At least for me. My aim is not to record our daily happenings and comings and goings. Whenever you notice that my updates are full of "we left" and "we arrived", describing what we ate and how nice it was, you know I'm really bored and that I've got nothing to say. I am afraid that this update and the few after it may approach such dull, boring monologue. Neve mind, just call it Lauri G's web shite.
Now, time to continue the story and push on. I'm loving every day, if not jumping through the roof, but at least appreciating the amazing opportunities that I've had in my life and being increasingly proud of the miles that I've done, the places I've taken Aliisa and the determination that I have found in me to do so. There has been a little lull in all that excitement, though. I'm sailing in Pacific Ocean again. In fact, as I write this opening blurb now, I'm already in South Pacific. You guessed it, Australia is already visible in my mind, only one ocean away. In 8 months or so we'll be arriving back in the land of Oz with a blank slate, with a future completely open, all that we have hopefully still floating beneath us. It will be a big change. A huge one. Shall we have kids? Should we take a mortgage or rent? Should we look for a bigger boat to live on? Should we find work or set up a business? Will the bank lend me money? Will Annina get residency? After 18 years of traveling the world, I still haven't mastered living in the moment. My thoughts slip into the future adventures. Let me keep trying. Back to the life at hand:
No, it's not on fire. This little baby-mega-yacht just needs a bit of engine work. And I was worrying about our Yanmar pushing out a little bit of smoke. I'm not worried any more.
Sweaty stuff
Where were we in the last page? Oh yeah, pushing the dinghy into the sea and paddling back to Aliisa, red skinned from sun, rum and frisbee throwing. The swell at the little anchorage in Isla Boleños was getting worse and we decided to pack up and head out towards Golfito. But that's boring, so let's do the 80 miles in one quick sentence: We travelled the 80 nautical miles overnight and arrived to Golfito Bay, Costa Rica just as the early morning sun was starting to feel hot. In Golfito, that happens at about 7 AM.
The trip was uneventful with only some several-mile-long fishing lines marked with numerous strobe lights providing some excitement at the early hours. We didn't know what was tied on to the strobes, whether it was nets, fish traps or line on the surface. We drove very close to some and made a few extra miles avoiding driving directly across what appeared to be a long line.
Golfito's domestic tourism was based on it's Duty Free area and the international tourism on the North American market and big game fishing. Plenty Marlin here, as well as Sword Fish and other hard-fighting beasts. I would advice any cruiser to soak their smallest lure, unless they want to haul out 50 kg of frantic white flesh fighting for its life.
Golfito Bay was hot. Very hot. And calm. Very calm. The first impression of the locals was all thumbs up. That's the greeting they used in Panama too. We had made e-mail acquaintance with Banana Bay Marina and I let the boat glide slowly next to a mooring buoy opposite the banana-coloured building. Annina picked up the line. I threw the dinghy in and soon we were standing under the air-conditioning of a very sports fishing orientated marina office.
Each morning the moisture that had descended overnight condensed onto the surrounding hills. During the day all the water vapor went up again, only to fall back down in the form of heavy rain at night.
"We can do the check-in for 200 bucks (US)", said Bruce in the office, "but I presume you'd want to do it yourself", he continued. Yep, he had seen our boat and I had heard the price. We spent 5 hours walking the town from end to end, aided by the photocopied hand drawn town plan from Bruce. We went to immigration first but that was wrong. (I didn't read the instructions properly). They sent us to see the Port Captain first. We got on the roll. Next: Quarantine. They sent us to the bank to pay a fee, from where we continued to Customs. Then immigration and finally back to Quarantine to drop off the receipt from the bank. Cheap bastards as we were, we did all of this on foot and covered a good 10 km in 35+ C temperatures. Back home cold beer had never tasted that good.
It's easy to get frustrated by such a runaround, the hostility toward bureaucracy and authorities seem to come naturally for most of us. I wonder why? I find the clearing in to be a nice experience. It's kind of an introduction to the country, its customs and its people. I don't mind getting a little exercise and I'm certainly not in a hurry. It would be a bit unfair to take 5 years for cruising around the world and then complain when you have to spend a few hours talking to the locals. The only downside in Golfito was the heat, which made the whole 5-hour procedure quite exhausting.
The green hills above us left only a narrow coastal strip on which the town of Golfito lived its daily life. The moisture of the wet rainforest, the heat and the total lack of wind made it a perfect place for sports fishing and fast motor boats. No wonder Banana Bay Marina and Fish Hook Marina dominated the waterfront. What do I mean? Well, If you want to do boating in Golfito, I can imagine nothing more pleasant than 30 knots of breeze on the face. I don't really care if we catch fish or not. Just gimme that 30 knots of breeze! Yeee-haaa!
The food in Banana Bay Marina was honouring the spirit that makes the US the most obese nation on our planet: there was never any shortage of decadence, oil, sauces, cream, fat, cheese and ... hmmm.. volume. I suppose this is actually a very healthy version: mash and salad covering 1/3 of the plate. If you go to Golfito, don't miss this, but take your own candles if you feel romantic. We did.
The three small supermarkets combined provided most of the things we wanted. The prices were quite reasonable, some vegetables being evern cheaper than in Panama.
We didn't have a sports fishing boat so all we could do is turn all the fans on and put sweat-absorbing towels on the saloon seat. We had internet, we had american-style meals at the marina restaurant, we had showers and toilets and we had time. If we only had spanish language as well! My biggest frustration in central America had become the language. I would soooo much like to speak better spanish. I keep finding other shit to do and despite a few attempts to really start studying, I don't seem to learn without proper exposure to the language. Yeah, exposure. Crazy. You'd think that we'd have maximum exposure. It seemed that I needed a situation where my life depended on speaking spanish. I've got no-one to blame but myself. My point is, that you can't go travelling and experience a place unless you're able to make proper contact with the local people. In central and south America english language of very limited use for achieving that.
The heat, the language barrier and a general "blaah" made us lazy. We ate well in Banana Bay and sometimes spent hours online with their wifi. Bruce took pity on us and let us use the mooring for nothing - for a few days. He got the money back through the bar. After about a week, we moved to Land Sea, a rather strange world of its own next door.
"They've tried to buy me out many times", said Tim with a scornful glance at the motor boats which he despised. "They even bought the block on the other side of me. They're trying to take over the whole waterfront", he continued. LandSea was obviously a realisation of his dream, occupying a 10 meter slice of the waterfront. It had the original "Lonely Planet" feel, large murials on the wall, cool wooden furniture, book exchange, TV room and all the little details that would make the waterfront building a true home away from home. (Hang on... cruisers already have their home with them...)
We took Riley the Boxer from Land Sea for a walk. It was a long one, Riley spending half the time going nuts in the bush and the other half looking for a drink. We were all pretty buggered by the time we had marched back to the boat. In fact, my back was killing me for the next two days. Excercise is good but this was too much, after too long with too little.
It was supposed to be a scenic walk. Yeah, here's Golfito Bay from the top. It turned out to be a 5-hour battle with the heat and elevation. Every part of my body complained about it.
Looking for a short cut back down, getting advise from a local.
Sounds wonderful, but somehow we never quite relaxed into it. There were five dogs who were quite lovely and lively. Unfortunately Annina has a bit of a fear of dogs and a 30 kg boxer trying to jump at her didn't help cure that fear, even if he just wanted to lick her face wet. Katie, Tim's partner, seemed a bit stiff and some mornings wouldn't even say "good morning". I'm sure she's a lovely person but I don't really know her and my first impression was a bit "bitchy", an impression that softened slightly during our visit.
Tim and Katie's Land Sea is squeezed between the two properties owned by Banana Bay Marina. The concrete ramp is already in a neighbouring block, as is the little yellow hut on the left hand side. Nice spot, but a bit of a tight fit. The facilities were immaculately clean and cozy. Pets are welcome and many cruisers have taken advantage of Tim's boat minding services, leaving their vessel under the watchful eyes of Land Sea Services.
Tim would sometimes sleep in his little house boat, moored infront of the derelict, dog poo covered single pontoon of Land Sea. "I have everything I need there", he said with some pride. Their beautiful house up the hill was overlooking the business. It was obvious, that Katie's real estate business was the real business and the cruiser's lounge was more of a hobby, a labour of love. We were one of only two visiting yachts there. Perhaps during busier times the atmosphere might come alive. Perhaps we too were a little "shrivelled up". Perhaps the place was a bit too personal and intimate. Inviting strangers in your home has disadvantages for both sides.
Watch out for dogshit on the Land Sea Jetty. Every time!
Booze and car tyres. Golfito Duty Free area was geared up for the locals. The most popular items were house hold goods, stoves, fridges, freezers, stereos.... and car tyres.
We had only a one-day relief from our social desert. A lovely Californian couple, Rich and Pat, on their SoCalSoGood (Yeah, weird name isn't it?) stayed a few days and together we spent a day walking the hills above Golfito. We took Riley - the biggest dog in LandSea - with us. A fearsome looking beast who had a mentality of a poodle. Lovely dog. He can lick my face anytime! Right, this story is getting boring. Did you notice? I'm going on about the absolute nothingness of being. Next I'll probably do a page about how Annina made dinner and we sat down and played Scrabble? Nah, I'll save you from the pain. (only because I keep losing to her!)
I'm not my usual self. I'm losing interest in this ranting, in writing. Why should I carry on about my travels and my opinions and feelings? Don't you guys have a life of your own? Close this window now, close your browser and shut down your computer. Now. Then go out and do something fun!
Hey Tico! How's it goin? Life in Golfito was quiet and relaxed. Without the heat, I would have fallen in love with it.
Sunset from Banana Bay Marina restaurant balcony.
Ahhh, that's better. Now I can keep writing, knowing that most people are no longer online and what I write doesn't really matter any more. Where was I? In Golfito Bay, Costa Rica. When I was a kid in Finland, one of the best known coffee brands there was "Costa Rica". (Still is, and Finland is still one of the highest per capita coffee consuming people). I bet there's still some old grannie somewhere who doesn't know it's a country at all! While Golfito once was a true "Banana Republic" (The United Fruit Company from the US had virtually total autonomy and ran the plantations like a country of their own), it is the coffee that today is one of the prides of the country. We bought a good selection of varieties from the local supermarkets.
To say that we went to Golfito just to be able to add another great sounding country name in my list of been-theres, is not far from the truth. Of course I would honestly like to see all countries. I would love to trek the Himalayas and it pisses me off that Mexico was so close and we didn't go. I'd love nothing more than to include Belize, Guatemala, Nicaragua and Honduras in our itinerary as well. We have already decided to learn more Spanish in Australia and come back to explore more South America: Chile, Uruguay, Paraguay, Argentina... Despite all my best efforts, despite four ocean crossings and almost five years of active sailing I have managed to miss countless "not-to-be-missed" places. I've never sailed in the Mediterranean! I bypassed Timor, Indonesia, Myanmar, India, Sri Lanka, Maledives, Tanzania, Kenya, Swaziland, Lesotho, Namibia, Brazil, Guyana, Suriname, Barbados, Venezuela, Aruba, Bonaire... We never left Aliisa for extensive inland travels, like so many people do.
Only one of Tim's animals was a cat. I love all animals, including snakes, dogs, mice, iguanas, sharks and horses, to name a few. (Insects are not animals, they are plant pollinators and animal food.) There is something about the almost arrogant, self-absorbed cuddly charm of felines that melts me. At least until they swipe you...
The number of "must-go" places on this planet is overwhelming. Whoever put that many places on the planet must have been nuts. For a world traveller like me, that's a real pain in the ass! If there was only 20 places to go, I'd be back home, studying philosophy, psychology, welding, meteorology, journalism and computer technology. Job done! But no, now I need to squeeze all those in while covering all the "must-go" places on earth. It can all be a bit too much and quite exhausting at times. Suffice to say, I'm already planning the next round.
Dockwise transport. I'd seen the ads in magazines and now we saw the real thing. Quite wicked, really. It dumps its ass down in the water, boats and yachts drive in or out and then it pumps itself up again, becoming a floating dry dock.
Golfito Bay was hot as hell. With no breath of air, scorching sun and high humidity, one could only sit infront of a fan and stare at a wall. Well, okay, and go ashore for a cold one...
Where was I? Oh yeah. Costa Bloody Rica. Hola! Buenas dias! Since the banana industry pretty much collapsed, the government decided to save the people in Golfito by establishing a Duty Free area. Every adult Costa Rican is allowed to spend US 500 dollars, twice a year. (Those who have a spare grand in their pockets). Bus loads of Ticos travel in from all around the country every day to buy car tyres, fridges, freezers, booze, electrical goods, pots and pans etc. We used some of our allowance and carried 48 bottles of wine, a case of rum and a case of whiskey on board. Pacific is expensive, better buy it when it's cheap.
The fringes of the Duty free area were lined with hawkers selling the world's poorest quality bags, t-shirts, shoes, sun glasses and watches. You know, the kind of shit that should have a 1000% enviromental tax for the fact that they travel from a factory in China, by containerloads, spending one month in transit, one week working and then ending up as land fill in the dumps around the world. The maddest form of economic growth and consuming on the planet is producing, transporting, buying and throwing away crap quality junk like that - it's worst form being those tiny electronic gadgets that come with packaging as expensive as the components in the product!
Long nosed weavils exploded into existance during our stay in Golfito. Popcorn, crisp bread, rice, muesli, all full of these slow-moving little buggers who drill themselves out of one bag and into the next. We lost only food. They lost their lives. Good! Perhaps I don't love all animals after all.
I fixed the port running light in Dover, England. Now it was finally time replace the wiring for the starboard side. I'll have a few words about the Weller Pyropen soldering kit in my next product review, once we get to Oz. Made for the professionals, maybe it only works in the hands of the professionals.
Time to go. But first a dive into the bay to scrub the bottom. Several dead fish and one dead bird were floating past in the outgoing tide. No mercy to the bottom. The paint was peeling off, bubbles from electrolysis, barnacles growing through the antifoul. There was only one place to go from here: A work yard. The only place for cruising yachts in Ecuador is in the twin-town of La Libertad / Salinas. Apparently the climate would be dry and cool - well, relatively speaking. We had spent almost 6 months under the ITCZ.
No, he's not homeless or drunk. Neither is the man next to him. They both live here and life in Golfito is just a bit sleepy. A most lovely, friendly and relaxed atmosphere - charming town.
Nothing sounded sweeter than "dry" and "cool". We spent a few hours doing the reverse route with all the authorities. In the SSB morning net the cruising fleet was mostly heading north toward Mexico, so we were going against the flow, again. All three of us. Me, Annina and Yanmar. Yep, that's pretty much all I need to tell you about our 700 miles and 8 days at sea. Let's pretend it never happened and one beautiful day by some miracle we found Aliisa driving towards the tiny marina behind the rock wall of Puerto Lucia, La Libertad, Ecuador. And that's another story.
A few bonus excerpts from the Dashew's Mariner's Weather Hand book.
(italics are mine)
p180 - If the trough runs from the northwest to the southeast, this is an indactor that divergence is stable...If the trough runs from northwest to the southeast, it is unstable. (The book is now in its third printing, so I suppose they really mean what they say.)
"Zonal flow is unstable. When you see zonal flow it is an indicator of the potential for dangerous weather. As zonal flow breaks down to meridional flow, rapid development of surface lows can occur. The faster the change....,the nastier surface conditions are likely to be." (Either way, we're fucked!)
"Every jet stream will generate a storm, it is just a question of where and when". (Jeesus - why did I leave home port!?)
Let's have a look at the meaning of clouds, shall we (p.75):
"Cirrus - Typically indicates an approaching frontal system"
"Cirrostratus - Typically indicates and approaching frontal system..."
"Cirrocumulus - same as above but without the haloes"
"Altocumulus - ... often seen ahead of fronts..."
"Altostratus - Indicates closeness to precipitation area of frontal system"
"Stratocumulus - May indicate the approach of heavy rain in some cases."
"Cumulus - Is some indication of atmospheric instability - strong verical currents in large clouds - gustiness at surface level"
"Cumulonimbus - Very turbulent cloud, accompanied by heavy showers...hail,..lightning and thunder"
(I don't want to look at clouds any more...)
