The joys of sailing.

Moon or no moon, the sea has a way of being lit up at night, which makes sailing in the heaving darkness as graceful as a dolphins dancing. The foam fleeting, spirit white against the oil black of leeward swells. The boat takes on a spirit of her own, pitching and rolling under the viscous nature of life. Things become a lucid dream when watching from the helm. Images pass by eyelids of Orion, Scorpio and the Southern Cross swinging in the sky, and of phosphorescent sparks jumping off the bow. All others try to sleep amongst the noises of gnomes in the galley and jackhammers on deck. In all this movement and noise a pervading peace settles. The ship becomes the driver and the helmsman just a strengthening spoke in the wheel. Day breaks and only remnants of the lucid dream from the night before remain.

When full light and daily patterns push us on, we find the toothpaste is on the other end of the cabinet, the dental floss hidden under the sunscreen. Plates have been rearranged to sit on top of the bowls. What playful children, or mischievous fairies rummaged at night through the cabinets and drawers turning everything upside down? Wearily but enlivened we greet the day, fatigued from late night and early morning shifts, from the physical challenge of living on a heaving boat with no respite until shore.

So it was for another 24 hours as we traveled from Roatan, Honduras to Livingston, Guatemala. This direction of travel we were with the wind and with the swells of the sea, so the travel was easier and faster. We arrived around 8 am to a developing storm and were temporarily relieved to put the anchor down. Due to shallow water conditions we would have to wait until the high tide at 5 pm to cross into the Rio Dulce. Mid-morning, government officials from Guatemalan immigration and customs visited our boat and began to check us in to the country. Some of us went ashore with the officials to complete the necessary paperwork and the rest of us stayed on the boat to keep watch in the developing storm. By late morning the anchor was dragging and seas were swollen and ragged. Those on the boat began motoring around in large circles to maintain the boat’s relative position.

Brian, June and Steve took to the seas as the wind and waves picked up and the the anchor drug up a tree trunk. After freeing the anchor from the tree, we motored towards the lee side of a spit about 25 miles away. High tide was supposed to be around 5:25 pm and we were anxious that the winds would not abate before we had to cross the bar. We draw 6 feet – normal tide is 4.5 to 5 feet at the bar. High tide is 1.3 feet extra. Sooooo, we did not have much room for error.
We saw a sailboat with what we thought was a deep bottom heading to cross the bar at about 3:30. A little early – I (Brian) thought – but the effect of camaraderie drew us to follow the boat across the bar. The swell was still quite large and was battling the current coming out of the river. I happily handed the wheel to Steve as we rushed toward the bar following our “leader” boat. June called out the depth from our instruments as the bottom quickly rose to our hull. As we were surfing the swell across the bar in the 39’ sailboat I felt the grasp of the mud take our keel and gently slow us down to about a knot. We were cruising at 6.5 knots previous to our grounding. The swell dropped out from under us and a wave quickly lifted our stern up and off of the mud and we surfed on past the shallowest spot – safely into Livingston Harbor.
We caught up to the sailboat that we were following and asked how much water they drew – 4.5 feet. We were wrong about the draft of their boat – by a bit – remember, we draw 6 feet!

It was a beautiful, “peaceful” and calm welcome into the Rio Dulce. The raging ocean was behind us and the quiet flow of the river in front. The entrance to the Rio Dulce is spectacular at any time, with 300 foot cliffs covered with vines and flowers, birds of many varieties going about life, and the slow descent of a large river to the ocean. This time the contrast for us was astounding and very welcome. Within an hour and a half we were up to friends and familiar faces at Texan Bay Marina, where we anchored in a quite bay for the night. What a relief for all of us to have a quiet and motionless night on the boat.

Arrival and Departure

A town with a little more then that sleep feel of life going by as fast as the seasons. We arrived at the West End of Roatan. Know for it’s prolific diving, long white beaches, and vacationers. A compacted sand road runs along the waterfront. Restaurants, bars, and dive shops have the laughter and noise of people and pleasure spilling out on to the sand main drag. Shoes and shirt not require, money even if only a little, required for the homemade helado, beer, and gift shops. The coastline is one crescent shape after the next, accounting for the numerous locations named “Half Moon Bay”. It is quite a change from our location 5 hours East where we shared a vacant bay with one other boat. Where no music from the bars tried to lure us a shore until the wee hours of the morning.

At our last two anchorings we ran into people we knew from Rio Dulce. We didn’t know anyone when we arrived but were warmth welcomed by our neighboring boat, a stones throw away. The dive shops want $10 a tank instead of the $7 we paid and at Old French Harbor, and most of their tanks are in use, making difficult to find any. There is a place that does Yoga a few times a week, volleyball nets and many more young active people.

We have all decided it is very different from the less stimulating quiet life we have been living. A day here then back on the ocean wide, to catch the easterlies back to Guatemala. The wind should be at our backs, and sea pushing us along. The ride is expected to be much easier then the beat to weather we had to get here. Until our next landing.

Love Kwiana

Scuba Diving

Brian took me scuba diving yesterday. When I close my eyes I can feel water surrounding me, pushing me with the swaying surf, it cannot be resisted. The underwater world is a dream, in which one can only exist for so long. It is calm and relaxed. It is graceful and alive, foreign and unique. Dr. Seuss meets God.

The first dive we did was around a shipwreck. Once some thing is lost in the ocean it becomes part of the viscous blue world and only resembles the life it once had. Where cranes and ridging once lived colorful coral have made their home. On the decks where humans shouted commands and toiled for progress, fish haphazardly float around. It is eerie and alive.

The second dive we did was along a coral shelf. Cliffs of coral that dive into the darkness. Canyons that are more inhabited with life then their above water counter parts. Fish dancing and feeding on one another. Movements in water are more like a bird through the air or trees waving in the wind. Only you are forced to either flap like a bird or wave tike a tree.

We have all been snorkeling and enjoying our time here. But somewhere more secluded calls us before we shall have to return.

We are taking off from here today; we will head east for a day, looking for a remote harbor with out the lights of man. Then we will begin our journey west, back to Guatemala. And stop a few places along the way.
May life be as fluid as the ocean. Daniel and Family

Relaxing

well there is much less to write about when you are not preparing for a trip or sailing the sea to get there. Today we spent swimming around the island reef where our boat was anchored. The island had a zoo on it where we could look at a few different kinds of monkeys and wild cats.

Then around noon we sailed east for about an hour and a half to a new anchorage called Old French Harbor. While were we anchoring our boat we noticed that some friends from Guatemala were anchored in the same lagoon. They left Rio Dulce in the beginning of December for Panama and have been in this area for the last couple months waiting for the right weather window to continue on to Panama.

Brian picked up some scuba dive tanks today and will be diving tomorrow. So we will be around here for another day or so......

Tilt-a-world

One of those classic carnival rides, Tilt-a-worlds can bring us back in time to fond memories of childhood, or just give us a good ride. Ever ridden one for 36 hours straight? Well that’s how long it took us to sail from the mouth of Rio Dulce, Guatemala to the island of Roatan, Honduras. The ride? Let just say it was a ride!


We left our anchorage at 7 am on the February 10th, and motored down river through a glorious gorge. Here is an excerpt from John Lloyd Stephens as he headed upstream on the Rio Dulce for the first time in 1841. “In a few moments we entered the Rio Dulce. On each side, rising perpendicularly from three to four hundred feet, was a wall of living green. Trees grew from the water’s edge, with dense unbroken foliage, to the top; not a spot of barrenness was to be seen; and on both sides, from the tops of the highest trees, long tendrils descended to the water, as if to drink and carry life to the trunks that bore them. It was, as it’s name imports, a Rio Dulce, a fairy scene of Titan land, combining exquisite beauty with colossal grandeur.”

We squeaked across the mile wide sand bar at high tide, giving us the extra few inches we needed to keep from auguring our keel into the bottom and running aground.
As we left the protection of the bay and rounded Cabo Tres Puntas (the point) the wind and waves began to pick up and our tilt-a-world ride began. And our crew began to get sick. Jessica was the first to feel it and was by far the most extremely affected. She did not have the luxury of being able to take medication, as the anti-nausea medications are not recommended for pregnant women. Others did take medication to lessen the effects, while Steve and Brian seemed to be little affected by the less-than-steady “ground”.

As for sailing on the open ocean, we did the most enlivening sailing under the light of a mostly-full moon. The sails filled with soft tones of warm skin, like the bosom of your loved one. The night air kissed our lips and wrapped us in a cashmere blanket of warmth. And the boat whistled along, heaving and rolling.
I (Daniel) did have to hurl over the edge a few times. I was amazed by the energy and force that ones heaving guts can create. My meals were projected from my mouth like water gushing from a fire hydrant .

We have officially left Guatemala, and after sailing and motoring for 36 hours continuously we are now in Honduras! Upon arrival in Coxen Hole, Roatan, Honduras, Jessica was able to crawl out of her bunk and rejoin the group (after 24 hours of being bed-ridden). Exploring the coast of the island of Roatan is where we will be for the next week, before we return to Rio Dulce, Guatemala.

We hear that the diving is good down here and Brian is looking forward to blowing some bubbles. Jessica, being ‘prego’, will have to forgo the incredible diving due to the unknown (and un-researched) effects of nitrogen gasses on unborn babies. Too bad. No one else is certified to dive – perhaps some of us will take a basic open water diving course while we are here in Roatan. Or, perhaps the rest will be content with a mask and snorkel. We’ll let you know how it goes.

Cheers

Out of there

We finally made it out of Rio Dulce yesterday, in the rain. We are near the mouth of the river and today we officially checked out of Guatemala.... tomorrow morning we will sail out of the river and head into the wide open 'ocean' toward Roatan. Today we also FINALLY had some sunshine! I was getting accustomed to wearing my rainpants, jacket and rain hat everyday, but today I could briefly get by with just my bikini on! Yeahy!

Today we went to Livingston, Guatemala, on the coast. Livingston is known in this area for good live music on the weekends and for its garafona culture (descendants of black africans who escaped slavery by shipwreck or other means and settled the coast of central america). We checked out from that port and wandered the lively, clean, and colorful streets and then ate a delicious meal of seafood chowder, Caribbean style.... a whole small fish, a whole small crab, lots of clams, small squids, pieces of octopus, pieces of conch, plantain, cilantro and coconut milk!!! It was amazing!

Tomorrow we will try to be crossing the shallow water at the mouth of the Rio Dulce at the high tide, at 9 am. Then we will be in salt water and off toward Roatan. We may have to do an overnight sail to get to Roatan, but we'll see what the weather is like.

Many hugs! We'll write again from our next port!

Waiting for Good Weather

We are still in town at Rio Dulce. We have been waiting for good weather to venture out to the sea. Waiting and waiting. Since we have had to wait the entire last week we now have less than two weeks to sail in the ocean, before Steve and June fly back home on February 22. The weather on the ocean has been high wind, big waves, and rain..... not very inviting or comfortable for sailing. The weather hasn't been great here, inland, either. There have been a handful of cloudy/rainy days and many mostly cloudy days. Our tans are pretty limited, but at least we are not burning and it's not too hot.

Our waiting time has been put to good use, fixing small things on the boat, which will make sailing life easier (whenever we finally get sailing). Also, our excursion to Finca Paraiso was an excellent learning and practice opportunity for our novice sailing, plus we enjoyed our hours in the hot waterfall!

The last few days have been spent doing more small boat projects, shopping for fresh fruits and veggies, and we even got in some reading (of course some of the reading was about boat mechanics, sailing safety techniques, and route planning for Roatan, Honduras).

June has been very, very helpful with boat living (cooking, cleaning, shopping, organizing and storing things, boat projects, etc.). Steve has been guiding many of the boat repair projects that Brian and Daniel have been doing and he has been getting lots of advise from other sailors about where to go sailing and what waypoints to use. Also, Steve gave us two excellent days of sailing lessons this past week, when we sailed to Finca Paraiso (the hot waterfall). Daniel and Brian have been busy doing boat projects; fixing or installing this or that. Mom and I have been helping June with the boat living activities, plus getting all of the boat papers in line for our Guatemala check out.

While we were on anchor at Finca Paraiso last week, we had our boat renaming ceremony. Mom and dad wanted to rename the boat when they bought her, however it took several months to decide on their favorite name. The name “Kwiana” (which means ‘thank you’ in the Yupik language of northwest Alaska and is usually spelled ‘quyana’) was chosen by my parents in the summer of 2008, however the U.S. Coast Guard had to approve the name before the letters could be changed on her hull. On Wednesday night mom led the renaming ceremony, which involves champagne (or the closest thing to champagne you can buy) and a speech about the safety and gratitude the boat provided with its old name, and will provide with its new name. Then everyone drinks to the history of the boat and the future of the boat. Mom did a great job leading the ceremony and the new letters look great on her stern:

Kwiana
Sutton, AK

We may head out of town today, and head down river to a marina near the mouth of the river. Then Monday or Tuesday (depending on the ocean conditions) we will check out of Guatemala at Livingston and sail toward Roatan, Honduras. I think it may require an overnight sail to get to Roatan, which may be a challenging adventure for us novice sailors. We intend to sail around Roatan for as much time as possible and then sail back to Livingston, Guatemala and leave the boat in Rio Dulce again. There just isn’t enough time left for sailing to consider going to Panama on this trip.

We’ll let you know how the travels go, when we get an internet connection again.