Category Archives: Educational

Lost Two Anchors in Puerto Escondido, Mexico

Eric:

I’ve anchored cruising sailboats probably close to a thousand times. Although this time was unusual from the get go, but nothing glared at me with significant warning. Puerto Escondido was shown on both sets of electronic charts as a designated anchorage and the two older cruising guides described it as a place to visit, so I felt assured, although our trusted website guru Noonsite.com curiously was silent. Oddities began to present themselves. 1) the position dedicated as the anchorage was occupied by more than 50 pangas on individual mooring buoys. A local fisherman, fluent in English, approached us on his beautifully painted bright green panga advising us no mooring buoys were public. 2) the depths far exceeded the charts’ descriptions; 12 feet was now 80, and 15 was now 150. Thinking our depth sounder was on the fritz, I had Bryce drop a lead line to verify depth. “Line” is a nautical term used to describe loose rope on a boat, no matter the diameter. The sounder was accurate. 3) we were adjacent to one of Mexico’s primo surf sites, on purpose, and the current swell supported it. 4) with all the pangas on moorings and little room between them and the surf, we had to anchor outside their mooring grounds in 80 feet deep waters. Not our favorite circumstance. And, in addition to our bow anchor, we’d have to deploy our stern anchor to prevent us from swinging into the pangas since would have to let out so much chain due to the deepness of the anchorage.

The onshore breeze made anchoring that afternoon easy. We picked our spot, brought Kandu’sbow around, pointing her in the wind, then idled in reverse while in 85 feet of water, Bryce dropped our 65-pound Mantus anchor, the same anchor we faithfully deployed all around the world (an anchor few other long-distance cruising boats possess but wished they did, if only they knew how great it was). Bryce let out 150 feet of chain before we tested whether it would hold us. Most anchors need a chain to depth scope ratio of 3:1 to test, be we’ve found that the Mantus will grab at 2:1.

Mantus anchor

Once satisfied, we drifted back deploying a total of 240 feet of new high-tensile marine chain. Several types of marine chain exist, mostly all are steel galvanized with a zinc coating to protect it from prematurely rusting. Through our travels, we’ve learned that the French and Australians typically anchor with 3:1 scope, 4:1 in a blow. Americans, Brits, and Germans anchor 5:1 standard, and 7:1 in a blow. But at a depth of 85’ on a sharply rising seabed combined with the weight of 240’ of chain, we felt secure with 4:1. A rising sea bottom meant that the depth decreased dramatically, improving our ratio should we drift closer to shore, and such an angle advantaged us as well. As is our practice, Bryce attached our Mantus chain hook and nylon bridle, but with 240’ of chain deployed, we were a little too close to shore to let out all 30 feet of the bridle, deploying only half.

Our primary anchor is attached to all chain, 300’ in total. To prevent the chain pounding that can occur when a boat bow dips and rises, we attach a nylon rope to act as a shock absorber. It’s called a “snubber.” Wet nylon stretches more than dry, and the longer the nylon line the greater the stretch as well. We felt we had enough nylon in the water to give us the desired stretch. A bridle provides additional benefits in that two lines are attached, one from both sides of the bow, centering the pull forward off the bow, distributing the load, and adding security in the event one side should fray and give way, having the second to hold us still.

With our bow anchor secure, we set about the task of deploying the stern anchor, something seldom needed in most anchorages and therefore something we only seldom have done. We were not far from shore. Waves broke on the beige sand beach directly behind us, beach-goers Boogie boarding in the surf. To put out our stern anchor, Bryce and I inflated and lowered our dinghy, a task in and of itself, but one we are very accustomed to. With Leslie’s help too, the dinghy was launched in short order and our small, 3.3 hp outboard mounted to its transom. Seat and oars installed and with Kandu’s engine turned on, I boarded the dinghy, ready to receive and deploy our stern anchor. As agreed, Bryce monitored the outgoing line. “Leslie, reverse idle to port.”

Unlike the steel of our bow anchor, our stern anchor, a Fortress is made of aluminum. It’s the only anchor I know of made of such a light alloy, but that’s precisely the reason I like it as my stern anchor. I can easily “throw” it over board with minimal damage to the dinghy or myself. The proximity to shore and the greater than normal depth of the sea bottom made it impossible for us to first deploy the stern anchor from deck – a technic accomplished by traveling further forward to drop the bow anchor, and then pulling back in on the stern anchor line. Under our current circumstances, we needed to transport the 16-pound anchor and 50 feet of chain to the drop point, “toss” the anchor and chain in without damaging our dinghy, like pulling off an oar or puncturing something, and then have someone else on board Kandu take up the slack from the poop deck hoping it sets quickly. The make of our aluminum anchor, the Fortress, does this very well.

Fortress aluminum anchor

Over the next two days, we had to re-anchor the stern because the surf kept moving our anchor. Each time we brought up the anchor was challenging but we were able to pull up the stern anchor twice successfully. Finally, the third day it stuck. In that case, we anchored it much further away, almost at a 45-degree angle from the boat, directly in the surf.

Puerto Escondido surf right next to Kandu

The day before we were planning to leave this famous Mexican surf spot, a charter sailboat showed up, anchored for four hours, tried to pull up his anchor and couldn’t. He called two different scuba divers to free up his anchor and they both gave him the same reply, “No, I’m not going to do it, because it’s swallowed up by the sand and anything I do will be erased in a second by more falling sand. The only thing you can do is cut your anchor.” His anchor had mostly nylon hooked to little chain. I was hopeful that with our experience with the stern anchor and the fact that our fore anchor was all chain, we’d be successful.

Kandu anchored in Puerto Escondido, Mexico.

Bryce:

“Let’s go Trent” said Dad with determination. Initially, Dad and Trent paddled out in the dinghy to pull up the stern line and anchor while I was in charge of monitoring the line, the release and pulling the line/chain back in. Mom was monitoring the helm. “All good.” “Still good,” I yelled as I studied a fishing panga a little distance away to check the swell movements: whether the up and down movements were gradual or quick – the quicker movements indicated especially large incoming waves. “Still good,” I yelled every minute as I continued the pattern of letting the line out, and then pulling it in as some of the chain was released from the sand. “Outside set,” I yelled, and the two quickly abandoned their tugging in the surf and rowed to safety. This repeated at least five or six times when dad declared: “I’m exhausted, you need to take over with Trent.” As with Dad, Trent monitored the line and chain while I paddled out overtop the anchor which was directly in the break of crashing waters. I was worried about sinking and/or damaging the dinghy with too much pressure. When I grabbed ahold of the chain, due to the swell, I had to release or pull-in how much I had: swell decrease = slack, swell increase = the dinghy flying over top of the anchor, like when you spear a whale and it suddenly takes off. I placed my feet as if getting ready for a car crash to lock myself in. I was getting ready for a tug of war, holding on tightly letting the upward motion of the dinghy do the heavy lifting of the anchor. My position in the boat was far more secure than Trent’s because I was holding onto the anchor chain. Poor Trent was being thrashed around in the back of the dinghy like a malfunctioning carousel. Up, down, whipping all around. At one point, I only saw Trent’s legs hanging onto the back transom, and no Trent. Busy holding the chain I heard behind me: “Hey Bryce, I just fell in the water,” while lifting himself up pushing against the two ends of the dinghy. Trent’s torso and head had been completely doused. He looked quite disheveled. Both of us depleted, that was the last time we tried lifting the anchor with the dinghy. But still not giving up while rowing ashore, I decided that I would scope out the anchor with a mask and snorkel.

Bryce Rigney ready to swim ashore after boarding the waves at Playa Escondido.

Dad and I rowed back out with the dinghy bringing up the line and chain as we went in order to attach a buoy, a floating marker. That was needed in order for me to find the anchor once dad dropped the line. I jumped into the pitch black with snorkel and mask and waited for the stirred-up sand to dissipate. Plunging down into the water holding the lead line, my goal was to see if I could touch the anchor. Once I got past all the floating sand, due to the moonlight and bioluminescence I could see pretty far…like there were stars under water, Van Gogh’s starry night! At the bottom of the chain, I couldn’t see or feel the anchor at all and every time I tried to unbury the sand, I would have to go up for breath. Then returning back down via the lead line just 2 minutes later, my unburied work was gone. I was so frustrated. I felt like all my hard work was for nothing…and I couldn’t change the situation. Like building a big Lego spaceship, while bringing it to your parents to show it off, you trip and drop it.

We figured there was forty-eight feet of chain with two feet remaining. The new plan was to pull up the slack as much as possible and during overnight’s largest swell we had experienced up to that point, the tugging of the chain by the boat would eventually pull the anchor out of the sand. At half past midnight, we went to bed exhausted.

The next morning around 7:00 am, we’d hoped to see the aft line slack, but no, the aft line was tighter than ever. I jumped back down into the water to see, and what I discovered was definitely not inspiring. I told Dad and Trent floating nearby in the dinghy, “We’re so screwed! That anchor is buried even deeper than last night because of the crazy swell we had during the night.” Due to the unbelievable current switches, the chain was buried an extra foot and I couldn’t even unbury the hook holding the buoy marker. Instead, I untied the buoy, leaving the entire marker line behind. I swam back to the boat while Trent and Dad in the dinghy, lifted up the chain and unattached the shackle holding the nylon line to the chain. We ended-up leaving all the 50 feet of aft chain plus the anchor. This whole business took about 45 minutes. We really didn’t want to lose our anchor, but we needed to get busy pulling up the forward anchor in order to depart that day. Trent’s flight out of Zihuatenejo was booked…we had a deadline.

Kandu’s aft positioned toward the beach of Puerto Escondido.

Dad was still hopeful that we could bring up the forward anchor because ours was attached to chain, not nylon line. I remember dad saying: “We have to at least try to pull-up the anchor!” However, we had been anchored there for a week…not just four hours!! I wasn’t very hopeful.

Leslie:

After 4 hours of painstakingly raising chain inch by inch, Eric and Bryce working together the entire time in the hot sun, concluded that it was a lost cause. “In the last 4 hours we’ve brought up just 150 feet of chain and it is no longer coming up. The tension is just too intense. The continued pressure will damage the boat,” declared Eric. Regrettably, he pulled out the bolt cutters and hewed the chain in two. We lost 2 anchors, our stern Fortress anchor and our fabulous 65 lb Mantus anchor attached to 130 feet of expensive new chain, plus 12 hours of concerted effort. Darn, darn, darn. However, on the positive side, during our two-day motor to Ixtapa Marina pointing into the swell, we benefitted from a substantially lighter bow!

Bolt cutters posed to cut Kandu lose from the chain.

Fortunately, we have 3 more anchors aboard. In Ixtapa, just before departing for Cabo, Eric and Bryce hooked-up and situated our secondary bow anchor (now our primary anchor), a Plow anchor, in a matter of minutes to line and chain – not Eric’s preference, but good enough to get us home. It took 45 minutes for them to prep the adequate but much heavier aft Danforth anchor for the stern. We also have a 95 lb fisherman’s anchor stored in the bilge to use for massive storms, which fortunately we have never needed.

Danforth anchor on Kandu
Plow anchor on the bow of Kandu
Example of a very large Fisherman’s anchor

Southern Mexico’s Immigration Crisis by Eric Rigney

I apologize in advance for my soap box moment. Hearing local perspectives is a benefit of travel.

Exploring Southern Mexico near the Guatemalan border, the southern gateway into North America, we hear from locals their current immigration concerns. Apparently agriculture in this region depends on Guatemalan illegal immigration for harvests and households depend on them as nannies, housekeepers, and more. Poorer Mexicans prefer the ease of welfare over the lower paying seasonal farm work or menial domestic care positions. Those Mexicans who do take jobs like these are characterized as less dependable, too often finding reasons why they can’t make it to work some days. Guatemalans in particular share similar values and traditions with the people of Chiapas. A trust bond and working relationship has developed over decades of this symbiotic practice.

Two Mexicans fishing in Puerto Chiapas channel

Over the past 2 years, the character of illegal immigration has apparently changed dramatically in Southern Mexico. Immigrants from Africa via Brazil and other South American countries, immigrants from northern South America, and Cubans have flooded the region. Mexicans don’t know the values and culture of these new illegal immigrants. Never before have they seen so many Africans and Maroons moving through or into their region, most, except for the Cubans and Venezuelans, don’t speak Spanish. But this is not what concerns them. What concerns Southern Mexicans are the “caravans,” waves of El Salvadorian and Honduran immigrants raised on gangland thievery and violence. They attack Mexican police and soldiers who block them from crossing the borders. International pressures caused the current Mexican administration to step aside their police & military and allow the caravans, 9 so far, to enter unevaluated. The dress, tattoos, and language of too many of these immigrants indicate gang members. Towns that had little to no crime are now seeing it. “Protection money” and other mafioso-type payment practices are growing. Hoodlums roam the streets at night, mugging, breaking-in, and stealing. Locals are baffled how their federal government can allow this easily identifiable criminal element to invade Mexico unfettered. When the first caravans came, locals stood by with offers of water and blankets for the families. Now when a caravan enters, locals lock their doors.
As we get closer to California, I’ve been reading more US & British news media. I don’t recall any pointing to the Southern Mexico experience, a warning call to all of North America, something so obvious to those who live on this important international frontier. It reminds me of the myopia that often afflicts nations’ news preferences. Not to belittle other illegal immigration concerns and programs in play, but even here, Southern Mexico offers advice to their powerful US neighbor: instead of spending billions on a mechanical barrier, develop and enforce greater procedures, like Germany today absorbing Syrian refugees (“Show me your papers.”), and really enforce those processes and laws, laws that may already exist within the US and/or may need to be established, and illegal immigration will drop dramatically. Simple principles of supply and demand they say. Crossing illegally into another country, a person only makes such sacrifices knowing they have the likelihood of getting a decent job. If employers, even individual households, were held accountable to the employment laws, illegal immigration into the US would practically die. But just as Southern Mexico depends on illegal Guatemalan immigrants, so does the US depend on illegal Mexican immigrants. Thus enforcement is not put in play. No wall will stop this dynamic, our Southern Mexican friends say. “Just listen to President Trump’s advice,” as they play a college commencement address YouTube video of the President encouraging graduates to overcome any and all obstacles in meeting their economic goals, even a concrete barrier. And if the US is not going to enforce employment laws, and if illegal immigrants are allowed to enter, know from Southern Mexico’s experience, recognizing a gang member is easy, and they don’t cross rivers or walk through the desert, they pass through check points.

Thought I’d share what I found to be a fascinating, for me, a less-heard, perspective from my new Mexican brothers and sisters. Having visited many wonderful countries these past two years, I’ve grown even fonder of my amazing neighbor. Mexican food? Don’t even get me started…

Tamales….mmmm good!
Hand-made Mexican corn tortillas…yum!

Panama Canal Quest – Part III, Kandu’s Rodeo

Returning from our instructive two-day stint as volunteer line-handlers, we quickly went into preparation, not only for the canal transit, but also for our 4-day crossing to Costa Rica and beyond. Eric and Bryce rearranged exterior gear (extra anchors and outboard motor) to clear Kandu’s topside and provide easier access. They also obtained enough diesel to last through the Canal, into northern Costa Rica, and eventually southern Mexico.

Food preparation we learned was a very important aspect of the transit as it’s a requirement that we furnish quality hot meals to the two advisors and our professional line handlers (2 extra young hungry men), including sealed water-bottles (water from boat tanks could harbor unintended bacteria) plus the ‘quality’ meals needed to include meat, i.e.: breakfasts with eggs and sausage. Because I was also acting as a line handler (Remember: we were required to have 4 handlers plus the captain), I heavily provisioned and pre-cooked several dishes (as Captain Bill Broyle had done) before disembarking from Shelter Bay Marina.

Our rented lines and fenders arrived the day before our departure, giving us plenty of time to set them up. In fact, our passage through the locks would be rather prosaic having already motored through the locks on the same make of boat – Tayana V42’. And unlike our last experience, little wind was predicted to shove us around.

Transit day 1, fully prepared to leave the marina and start our adventure, at noon we welcomed aboard our two hired line handlers. Upon our request, we were thrilled to have Santiago Zorrilla join us. As instructed by our transit agent, we casted off our dock lines around 1:00 pm, left the marina, anchored in the bay off the yellow buoy, and notified the Port Authority of our readiness. They responded with our advisor’s expected arrival time.

Kandu greeting our first advisors on the Caribbean side of the Panama Canal.

Two hours later we received not one, but two, advisors: a trainer and his trainee. “Two for the price of one,” the senior advisor proclaimed with a kindly grin. Once aboard and introduced, we awaited permission to proceed. The advisors combed over their documentation, a list of all the ships transiting the canal that day. Over their walkie-talkie radios, they were told which commercial ship would be our ‘lock-buddy’ and at what time we needed to be at the first lock.

Captain Eric Rigney helms ready!

The advisors kindly asked us to weigh anchor and head quickly to the bridge, several miles away. Having done all this before, but with less wind interference and with two experienced professional line-handlers, a relaxed mood pervaded onboard. We knew the next challenge would be just past the bridge where we’d perform the ‘dance of the raft.’ 

It wasn’t until our anchors were up and we were in motion did we see who our rafting buddy-boats would be: two French catamarans. Would we be the center boat flanked by cats, or would we be on the end? Only time would tell. As we passed the bridge, approaching the first of three locks, with no pesky winds pushing us in strange directions, we were calmly instructed to raft up with the larger cat in the middle. First the little blue cat rafted to the port side of the large white cat. Their line-handlers were not as skilled as ours, and this took a bit of time. The fact that the little blue cat had tires instead of fenders indicated they were on a budget. But we had time. Being large and sturdy, the middle catamaran easily powered and steered the two, holding position as we gently came up to her starboard side and rafted.

Kandu rafted and ready for the Gatun Locks.

Once all were secured into a single raft, I heard the familiar voice of the same advisor that had so adeptly guided our raft with Captain Bill. Our circumstances couldn’t have been more superb. As he instructed the three captains, but mostly the center cat captain, the raft proceeded directly into the locks behind our commercial ‘lock-buddy’ ship. Messenger lines were cast, caught, and tied to our rented dock line bowlines without ado.

Lock line handler running the messenger line down the lock.

The canal workers walked along the lock chamber at our forward pace, holding the other end of the messenger lines. On the advisor’s signal, the lock workers pulled their messenger lines up and with them, our extra-long dock lines as our line-handlers eased them out. Once the bowline of the dock line was draped over the bollard, our line-handlers, one forward and one aft, quickly took in the slack and secured their respective lines. Our line handlers, Santiago and Juan, were in full control, so Bryce and I were able to take videos and pictures to capture the moment.

Lock line handler having secured our bowline around the canal bollard.
Santiago Zorrilla securing Kandu’s bow.
Bryce Rigney transiting the Panama Canal on sv Kandu.

As the water level in the chamber raised, Santiago and Juan compensated by tightening the loosing dock lines, keeping the raft in the middle of the lock. Captain Eric and our advisors hardly had anything to do!

This sequence repeated itself two more times before we exited the third and final of the Gatun locks.

Kandu and crew waiting fo their lock-buddy commercial ship in Pedro Miguel Lock.

Fortunately this time, we had plenty of daylight left to enjoy a bit of Lake Gatun as we motored to the over-night mooring buoy. Surrounded by lush greenery, Lake Gatun is a peaceful sanctuary for water-birds, howler monkeys and alligators (no swimming). Surprisingly, the passing ships make very little noise.

Boats wishing to transit the canal are required to maintain a minimum speed of 5 knots (6 mph). If not, the owner must make other arrangements to transport his/her yacht from one ocean to the other, usually by truck. But even at 6kts, we’re not able to transit the canal in one day. We’re required to moor to one of two mooring buoys specifically designed to hold two sailboats each. Two miles west of the last lock, the mooring buoys are large, made of PVC plastic, and very sturdy. Two to three people can jump onto one without concern of tipping. And the plastic surface makes it possible to tie up without scratching your boat. With fenders positioned amid ship to keep us off the buoy, the professional line-handlers run one rented line from the bow, through the mooring buoy’s extra-large shackle, and back to the center of the boat. A second line is run from the stern through the same shackle on the mooring buoy, and again to the boat’s center. If another boat is to share the mooring, a common occurrence, the line-handlers tie both bows and sterns together, one line each, so that bow and stern of both boats remain equidistant from each other through the night.

Bryce Rigney, Juan and Santiago securing Kandu to Gatun Lakes large overnight buoy.
Kandu moored in Gatun Lake, Panama.

The meals that I prepared in advance turned out perfectly and aplenty especially considering that we had two unforeseen ‘trainee’ advisors to feed. Yes, even on our second day transit, we had the good fortune to have another trainer-trainee set. I served chicken and vegetable curry with rice plus salad for dinner the first night, sausage and egg breakfast with pre-fried onion potatoes for the second day’s breakfast, grilled ham and cheese sandwiches with coleslaw for lunch, and spaghetti with a heavy meat and tomato sauce for the second night’s dinner, all accompanied with tons of salty snacks, cookies, candy bars and even soft drinks. Eric, Bryce and I felt spoiled ourselves with all the naughty eatin’!

The second day offered a little different scenario. Whereas the advisors of the previous day seem to be in sync and in accord, this day would prove otherwise. Unbeknownst to us, the day-two advisor now on the little blue cat had previously been suspended for issues related to his poor advisory skills. This was his first day back after a year. Once each boat had its respective advisor(s) on board, we untied from the mooring buoys and headed off, with great haste, to the first lock more than 25 nautical miles away. Independently but in casual line up, each boat made its way to the Pacific side of Lake Gatun. As we approached another large spanning bridge ahead of the next set of locks, it signaled again the staging area for rafting-up, but unlike last time, the little blue cat didn’t wait for the large white cat, and proceeded directly to the entrance of the first lock, Pedro Miguel. This was particularly odd behavior considering we were nearly 30 minutes ahead of schedule. Our ‘lock-buddy’ ship saw the little blue cat and proceeded to approach the lock, narrowing our gap.

The white cat and we sped up, but the inexperience of the line-handlers on both cats and the naughty advisor acting on his own, nearly crushed the blue cat’s stern into the wall, which delayed their ability to receive us. As we all approached too closely the steel barrier of the lock’s entrance, we were asked by the white cat’s line-handlers to turn around, go out, and come back when they were ready for us. Our advisor spoke via radio to the pilot on our commercial ‘lock-buddy’ ship to ask his/her intentions. The ship pilot said they’d have the tugs push the ship up against the wall to allow us all to exit, re-group, raft, and re-enter. Our advisor thanked the pilot and asked the other advisors to come out into wider waters. At the same time, our advisor asked Eric to motor full throttle away from the lock, past the ship before the thrust of the tugs pushed us into the wall. The advisor on the little blue cat then hailed our ‘lock-buddy’ ship’s pilot and said they were ready to go without us.

Our advisor was frustrated. Considering the erratic behavior of the rogue advisor, our advisor suggested we’d be safer waiting and taking two more hours to transit than if we were to raft with an unpredictable advisor. Eric and I agreed, and besides, the commercial ship’s pilot, having accepted the blue cat advisor’s explanation, had already proceeded to enter the lock, closing us off. Kandu would go through the locks without another sailboat rafted to its side. All four dock lines would now have to be monitored, not just relying on our pros. But having already gone through the process so many times, I was confident in my line-handling abilities and excited by the additional responsibility.

Waiting a couple of hours being tied to the wall, we took the opportunity to video chat with a high school French class at Trent’s school in Southern California. Bryce being of their age and fluent in French, we just handed the phone to him. Not every day does a classroom get to speak with a sailboat in the midst of transiting the Panama Canal, right? Anyway, chat time over, our new ‘lock-buddy’ ship approached and the lock handlers appeared with their messenger lines. It was game day for the crew of Kandu. Bryce caught my messenger line and handed it over to me. I tied my bowline to the messenger line like a professional (even more quickly than the professionals, I think – lol!) and then stayed alert as the lock handlers walked our four lines down the chamber in step with Kandu. When signaled by our advisor’s whistle, I sent our aft starboard polypropylene dock line back to the lock handler which he secured to a giant bollard, then I quickly pulled-in the loose line and cleated it down. Yippee, I did it! And furthermore, I repeated my efforts to great effect 2 more times!

Kandu with Bryce Rigney and Santiago Zorrilla secured in Pedro Miguel Lock.
Juan handling the aft port dock line as our enormous lock-buddy ship approached.
Kandu’s two Canal advisors recounting Panama Canal stories to Leslie Rigney.

Eric actually had a bit of excitement steering us straight in the last lock, which tends to be the hardest. The last lock was squirrely with current not because of wind but because our ‘lock-buddy’ ship, while short, was enormous top to bottom, and side to side. So wide, only two feet of water on either of her sides separated it from the lock’s 100-year-old concrete walls. She encumbered the entire lock in depth and width, so that when from behind us she moved forward like a hydraulic plunger, the water in the lock pushed forcefully forward spiriting us erratically and rapidly toward the closed lock doors straight ahead. Eric steered Kandu in full reverse adjusting for the current, and still we came a little too close. Just 20 feet before the doors, us line handlers halted our forward progress with masterful handling of the lines!!! Whoop, whoop!

Although we had hoped to complete our transit by 4 p.m. that day, the situation with the rogue advisor caused a delay that didn’t have us leaving the last lock until twilight, just as it had been with Captain Bill. Another long day for all of us. Leaving the lock, I served spaghetti dinner to the handlers and the advisors. Now in the Pacific again after having been away for 2 years, we motored near to the Balboa Yacht Club, about 3.5 nm, the rendez-vous spot to drop off our line-handlers and the rented equipment. Once in pick-up position, it was another 45 minutes before our advisors were also collected. Exhausted and hungry, Eric, Bryce and I,  happily alone again on Kandu, proceeded toward the Balboa Yacht Club waters to find a mooring buoy for the next two nights.

That evening, under a full moon, securely moored in the dark water of the Balboa Yacht Club…after we ate our spaghetti with meat sauce and I had my celebratory glass of wine, I went outside for a quiet moment to soak it all in…to reflect on all that we had accomplished since Gibraltar. Somehow, I had the distinct feeling that I had been there before. Well, in fact, I had been there on s/v Taopaowith Captain Bill. Our passage through the canal went so smoothly comparatively, that it felt anti-climactic. I was actually embarrassed with myself for feeling let down. Eric, Bryce and I had talked about and planned our transit through the Panama Canal ad nauseum for five months since arriving in Gibraltar. And WE FINALLY DID IT! We transited the Panama Canal bringing us back into the Pacific Ocean, but now it was done. Mission Accomplished. Fait accompli. Quest over. I felt so weird inside, as if I was missing something. As if I had been engaged in an opera as the lead where the rehearsals and performances were finished and my ‘opera’ family built over three months had split-up. However, fortunately for me, my family in this production was still intact; Eric, Bryce, myself and Kanduwere all still together…for a little bit longer.

Kandu moored at Balboa Yacht Club, Panama, looking back at the Bridge of the Americas..
On shore looking across the Balboa Yacht Club wharf as a container ship passes by.

Two days later, we set sail for northern Costa Rica.

By Leslie Dennis-Rigney with additions from Eric Rigney

 

Panama Canal Quest – Part II, Practice Run

Four days before our own crossing, completely wide-eyed and excited for our educational trial-by-fire transit through the canals, Eric, Bryce and myself jumped aboard s/v Taopao around 12:30 in the afternoon for a two-day, one-night voyage through the Gatun and Pedro Miguel/Miraflores locks of the Panama Canal. Captain Bill Broyles was calm.

Captain Bill Broyles of s/v Taopao, Tayana V42′

He motored Taopao out of Shelter Bay Marina to anchor behind a large yellow buoy to await the advisor’s arrival along with the two other boats who would be traveling through the canal with us. Eventually, just before entering the two sets of three locks, we’d all raft tightly together, advancing and stopping as one unit inside the locks.

In addition to our family of three volunteer line-handlers, Captain Bill hired a professional line handler to complete the required quartet. Santiago was a master at handling the lines having done it 63 prior times. With a calm demeanor and twinkle in his eye, he helped the three of us fasten the rented fenders into the best positions and arrange in unencumbered 4-foot long coils, the four hefty 150-foot, 7/8” rented blue polypropylene dock lines which he purposefully left unattached, stoppered by a 4-foot long bowline at one end. My eyebrows raised in surprise seeing such a large loop not imagining its use. I tried to tie-off the loose ends of the coils to the boat, but Santiago gently stopped me (our communication was hampered by the fact that he spoke a little English and I speak even less Spanish) and signaled to leave it unfastened; that it would be okay. I shrugged and followed his lead.

Two hours after hailing the authorities that Taopao was in requisite anchored position outside Shelter Bay, waiting as the wind increased in force – that wind having already dislodged the anchor of one of our buddy-boats from the seafloor, the advisors finally boarded the three pre-arranged sailboats. Our agent immediately directed Captain Bill to weigh anchor and motor toward the Gatun locks following our commercial ‘lock-buddy’ ship, aided rapidly forward by 25-knot tailwinds. As we passed beneath the massively tall bridge under construction, the advisor alerted us to prepare for rafting.

We watched as the fiberglass cutter from Australia rafted its starboard side up along the port side of the steel ketch from Iceland, the longest of the three monohulls. Once secure, we gently pulled our port side to the starboard side of the steel ketch, without much ado even with the heavy downwind impetus. I attribute this success to the veteran line handlers and advisors who were alert and skillful. Now rafted tightly together, the lead advisor in the middle boat communicated orders to all three captains: “More thrust to starboard, reverse hard, neutral!” etc. Between the wind, current, and prop surge from the forward ship and two large tugs with whom we’d share the next three locks, it was quite the rodeo keeping the three squirrely mono-hulls moving carefully forward as one raft. Yet, steadily, we made our way behind our very large lock-buddy ship, buffered by the two large tugs. As our raft moved into the lock, four dock handlers holding coils of long brown jute-like messenger lines with a heavy ball called a ‘monkey’s fist’ attached to the end, got in position, signaling their readiness for us line handlers to catch and attach.

Center boat (steel) of our three-boat raft inside Gatun Lock with tug and ‘lock-buddy’ ship in front.

As the starboard most vessel, we would have to catch the lock lines and eventually secure the starboard side of the raft. Santiago and I were in the starboard aft position, Eric and Bryce starboard forward. The lock line handlers use a special technique for throwing their messenger lines. You can see the large targets and overhead rails they use for practice.  Frustratingly, our forward lock handler had to throw his messenger line three times before the monkey fist arrived close enough for Bryce and Eric to catch (hmm – that dock handler didn’t play enough baseball when he was young!). Knowing that the aft attachments are the most important in stopping the forward motion of the raft against the strong aft winds, Captain Bill and I were relieved Santiago had secured it as the raft approached closer and closer to the tugboats. However, a loose bow could spell trouble for our port side sailboat buddy. Catching the third attempt, Eric quickly tied the messenger line with a bowline to the head of the heavy-duty dock line as Bryce rapidly fed it out. In short order, the lock handlers on the wall hooked the large blue polypropylene loops around gigantic bollards high above us. Eric and Bryce, Santiago and I, wasting no time, pulled-up the slack and secured our lines thus stabilizing the starboard side of the raft. Whew! That first time was mentally taxing since the three of us, Eric, Bryce and myself didn’t know what to expect. Even though Bill had volunteered a few days before, this was his first time as captain . . . never stress-free.

Panama Canal Gatun Lock Steel Doors closing behind us.

Shortly after, the massive hollow steel doors closed behind us. The surrounding lock waters began to rise requiring constant adjustment tightening the lines until the lock chamber was full and our raft reached its level. This exercise repeated two more times until we exited the last of the three elevating locks entering into Gatun Lake and unhooked from the other two boats. Already twilight, we zoomed over to the large plastic mooring, where we’d spend the night. It was fully dark by the time our three boats were settled down on moorings in Lake Gatun, one of the largest man-made bodies of water. The advisors on all three boats were soon after collected by a pilot boat. I heated up the pre-cooked dinner, served the meal and performed the galley clean-up. Exhausted, we all headed straight to bed in order to be perky for the next day’s adventures scheduled some time after 7 a.m. We would be required to motor full speed for 3 hours through Lake Gatun to the Pedro Miguel/Miraflores locks, re-raft with the other two monohulls, and instead of being brought up into the lake, we would be lowered into the Pacific. The Miraflores locks were reported by other sailors as the most difficult due to a strong surge and a venturi wind effect whistling through the canals.

The next day, following our crew’s sunrise breakfast, I prepared the advisor’s requisite hot egg breakfast for our second-day advisor, a different person from the day before. After jumping from the bow of the pilot boat which had taxied him to us and some quick introductions, we were off and motoring at a decent clip of 6 knots. In the lock chambers, instead of being in front of our raft as was the case coming up into the lake, our ‘lock-buddy’ ship would enter behind us. When getting ready to raft this time, instead of the three of us tying up in the channel as we’d done before, it was decided by the advisors that the most port boat of our raft would attach first to the wall just outside the lock, then the steel boat to him, and then us to the steel boat. This put the port boat in an unfavorable position, with a great possibility of being pushed into the cement wall. The heavy winds at our back turned this into an erratic operation. The middle steel boat approached its port neighbor too fast and the bows almost touched before the aft rafting lines were exchanged and secured. It was nerve-wracking to witness. Our turn also brought us in hot, even though Captain Bill was motoring in reverse. We came together with the sterns almost hitting. I quickly positioned myself to push us off the steel boat and fortunately two other line handlers were alert and stepped in – disaster was averted. As the excitement was occurring, I heard a few expletives shrieked behind me by the mentally stretched Captain Bill. Whew! That was close! Poor Captain Bill was drenched in perspiration!

With our raft secured and ‘lock-buddy’ ship approaching, the port boat cast off its wall lines. After much shouting and orders given, we entered the empty lock: Pedro Miguel. Once lowered to the next lock level, we exited without incident. The lead advisor skillfully guided our raft a few short miles to the Miraflores locks, the final two. Without another hitch, all three boats survived the 30-hour transit experience unscathed. Whoopee! It was a success.

Captain Bill Broyles thrilled to exit the last Miraflores lock just before de-rafting.

Our volunteering adventure was not over. While we packed our day-bags and made sure not to leave anything behind, Bryce transferred our camera’s photo images to Captain Bill’s computer, a great souvenir for the gentle captain. Passing under the Bridge of the Americas in the dark, Eric, Bryce, and I along with Santiago, the 3 other line handlers from one of our partner boats, including all the rented dock lines and fenders from the two boats, were dispatched away by Balboa Yacht Club’s hired water taxi. The advisor remained on board, waiting for the pilot boat to fetch him. Once on the smaller wooden pedestrian dock and overpass, I soon realized I grabbed a bit too much gear along with my own backpack, not realizing how far I’d be carrying the load. Fortunately, most of my burdens were relieved by the other line handlers and I made it across the wharf and up to the top of the street without stumbling in the dim light. Once the rented gear was discharged behind a pick-up truck, Santiago directed us how to make our way back to Shelter Bay Marina by bus and taxi as per agreed with Captain Bill.

Getting home from the Balboa Yacht Club, having never done it before, was its own two-hour adventure. We eventually hailed a wonderful taxi to take us to the bus terminal. After a bit of a broken Spanish scramble in the terminal, we made our way to a local bus, leaving immediately for Colon. The driver motioned us aboard. With no empty seats, we exited the bus confused. However, while signaling us to re-enter, the driver handed us two cloth-covered buckets to serve as stools between the two rows of seats. Bryce sat on the floor.  With recorded Colombian salsa playing, we were off and running. An hour or so later, the bus dropped us three off at a stop where we could catch another taxi to Shelter Bay. We had been warned of the dangers of Colon, especially at night, especially for tourists, so we eagerly awaited the chance to hail a taxi. An older local woman, positioned herself ahead of us. Ten long minutes later, she hailed the first empty cab to pass by. She and the driver spoke, exchanging looks our way. She asked in English our destination and translated to the driver. She motioned us over to take this taxi, she’d catch the next one. We insisted she take it, as I guess she saw “target” written all over our faces. What a kind thing to do. After negotiating the price, we entered the almost working taxi, and were off…never mind that little of the car functioned. What was important was that the driver knew how to keep it running the 45 challenging minutes over windy, pot-holed, unlit, dirt roads. Feeling sorry for him, Eric paid him more than was agreed. We returned to Kandu tired but mentally prepared for our own future challenges.

Panama, Panama City, the Bridge of the Americas (Puente de las Americas) over the Panama Canal access channel on the Pacific Ocean side, the Miraflores Locks in the background (aerial view)

By Leslie Dennis-Rigney with additions from Eric Rigney

Panama Canal Quest – Part I, Arrival and Legend

Arriving in Gibraltar marked the beginning of the back half of our circumnavigation. From Gibraltar on, in conversation with other cruisers, the first question was: “Are you planning on cruising the Caribbean or passing through the Panama Canal?” North or West? Our answer: West with the winds – we were to be carried along those critical westbound trade winds, funneling us across the Atlantic, pushing us over South America’s Northern coastline and brought furiously into battle with Colombia’s Caribbean winter storm-force winds. With a California-bound ETA of May 2019, wanting to arrive prior to the commencement of the Mexican hurricane season (May-Nov), the next prodigious hurtles on the map included crossing the Atlantic, getting past the Colombian coastline, and navigating through the Panama Canal.

OnTheWorldMap.com

Departing from Gibraltar on Sept 15th, we made the customary pre-Atlantic crossing landfalls: Morocco, and the Canary and Cape Verde Islands. We were on time leaving Gibraltar, but were held up in Morocco, waiting for engine parts and installing them. We left on Halloween. Our visit in the Canary Islands went without hitch, but in Cape Verde we were held up an additional week. Our US mail just missed the inter-island weekly flight. While in our marina slip, we celebrated Thanksgiving with Moroccan tagine and pumpkin pie. Once the mail was in our anxious hands, December 9thwe departed Mindelo, Cape Verde; the beginning of our third, and last, ocean crossing.

Eric Rigney holding our snail mail which finally arrived in Cape Verde!

The Atlantic crossing went very well. Sixteen days later, two days ahead of schedule, we arrived in French Guiana, traveling up the muddy river half a day before grabbing a mooring buoy in the currents of St. Laurent du Maroni. Although already behind schedule, we took time to visit a few sites most significantly the infamous prison headquarters or Transportation center where Papillon passed through.

However, we couldn’t dally too long in any one place. Our Caribbean cruising was minimal, remaining in the southern waters lightly exploring: Suriname, Tobago, Grenada, Bonaire, Curacao, and Colombia. Throughout our 1-2 week stays, as sailors exchanged itineraries which sailors often do, our pending Panama Canal transit invariably came up, and along with it their horror stories of other sailboats that had gone before; how boats nearly smashed against the cement walls, into other boats and/or the lock’s massive, 100-year-old steel doors.

After Curacao, the next beast facing us was the Colombian coastline, not pirates, but  . . . wind. Eric and I were concerned about the notorious winds of December-March aka Christmas winds that blow consistently 25-40 knots, often accompanied by a short, steep swell, tuned to swamp boats. An expert Caribbean cruiser and long-time charter captain, Glen Hurd of s/v Sundance who we met while cruising in Indonesia, spoke of them as being the worst conditions he had ever experienced in all his cruising days. To become better educated, I contacted my UCLA college friend Chris Landsea who now is chief of NOA’s marine branch (Tropical Analysis and Forecasting over the Tropical Atlantic, Caribbean Sea, Gulf of Mexico, and Tropical East Pacific). As long as I have known him, his interest circled around weather, especially hurricanes. He was the perfect manto calm our anxiety. Chris suggested that we access NOA weather forecasts at the below following websites, thus augmenting the information we generally gather from mobile weather aps: Windy, Predict Wind, and AYE tides.

https://www.nhc.noaa.gov/marine/forecast/enhanced_atlcfull.php  (Marine Composite page – winds, waves, features out through 3 days)

https://www.nhc.noaa.gov/marine/offshores.php  (Offshore Zone text forecasts – out through 5 days west of 55W)

https://www.nhc.noaa.gov/text/MIAHSFAT2.shtml (High Seas Forecast – warnings and locations of high seas/winds out through 2 days west of 35W)

Wind images in the Caribbean and specifically over Colombia

Before planning to leave any anchorage or port, Eric consults the weather. Our navigation plans are always centered around the weather. We have learned that a forecast is generally fairly accurate up to 3 or 4 days. After that, conditions can easily vary from predictions, that’s why it’s so important to travel during known periods of a region’s good weather. For example, when getting ready to travel into the Mediterranean, we had to forego visiting Thailand and Sri Lanka to insure we would arrive within the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea’s safe seasonal weather window; February through mid-March.

It was definitely windy sailing across the top of Colombia and even when tied up in the marinas. We sailed into Colombia from Curacao with only our staysail flying. In Santa Marta Marina, boats share space between two docks, each tying one side of their boat to a pontoon. Kandu was docked on the leeward pontoon and a smaller, lighter boat occupied the windward pontoon. The marina’s pontoons are short and not supported by pilons, so they move around a lot. Two days later, in 35-40 knot gusting winds and marked swell, 20-ton Kandupopped one of her fenders and was going to get damaged rubbing up hard against and/or break the pontoon. Which, in fact, another boat did break a pontoon that night. We deployed all our fenders, including Big Bertha, our huge red one, and removed much of Kandu’s windage (canopy, tying our dinghy flatter, lifting horizontally the solar panels).

Kandu in Santa Marta Marina, Colombia, proudly displaying Big Bertha – our red fender!

Still, the wind continued to force Kandu firmly against the dock. We had little ability to tie and pull her windward side off the dock. With a bit of ingenuity, Eric unbolted an unused dock cleat from another slip and moved it onto the main dock, and then attached at a 45-degree angle another spring line from the center of the boat. Finally, with our combined strategies in effect, we managed to lessen the amount of strain Kandu placed against the pontoon and her hull side. With stories of Colombia’s Caribbean winter winds firmly validated, we again experienced their force once more tied to a dock, this time in Barranquilla’s Puerto Valero Marina. Attached to the leeward side of the leeward end-tie, the wind now blew Kandu away from the dock, so much so, our bow chock sheared. That same morning, with storm-force winds forecast over the next 10 days without break, we decided to take it on and head toward our next ‘bear in the woods.’ Adios Christmas Winds, hola Canal! Although initially hesitant to leave the marina, once under way, Kandu handled well the 25-30 knot winds with its following swell. Remember, Kandu has a canoe stern, so steep seas wrap unfettered around her backside, unlike flat, open, and sugar-scoop sterns which can get pushed around, or at times, flooded.

The Atlantic crossing and the Colombian Christmas winds behind us, transiting the Panama Canal was now forefront on our minds. Most landing decisions, once made, require some form of preparation and research into requirements and procedures. Coming to transit the canal, first on the list was reserving a slip in the closest and safest Caribbean-side marina, Shelter Bay, and then handling the usual processing through customs and immigration.

Chart plotter image of Kandu on the Caribbean side of the the Panama Canal with AIS boat signatures.

Complications to transit the canal included: selecting and contacting a canal agent, learning how to work with canal advisors who would guide us through the canal passage, obtaining line handlers (volunteer vs. professional), and understanding the various transit charges and costs.

Once we docked in Shelter Bay Marina, Eric met with our agent and obtained our crossing date. To remove some of the mystery, we decided we’d volunteer as line handlers aboard another sailboat. Fortuitously, we found a single-hander Bill Broyles with a boat model similar to ours, a Tayana V42, aft cockpit, named SV Taopao. Even before volunteering as line-handlers, we thought it would be helpful to see the locks up close and learn something about the history and engineering behind this world marvel. So, we took the hour and half bus ride into Panama City and paid a visit to the Miraflores Locks Visitor Center, and also happened to see the adjacent IMAX movie theater Panama story that played a specially created and beautifully executed IMAX movie chronicling its history.

The visitor center is an excellent cutting-edge museum of the Panama Canal’s records starting from the late 1800’s. The exhibit also included material about the newest adjacent locks constructed between 2006 and 2017 built to accommodate the present-day ever larger container ships. I loved how the museum walked me through challenges and frustrations of the early French trials spearheaded by the charismatic diplomat Ferdinand de Lesseps who had led the successful building of the Suez Canal. Shockingly, upwards of 21,000 workers died during those first tumultuous years mostly from yellow fever and malaria. Feverishly scientists worked on figuring out the cause of the deaths. At one point, doctors thought the diseases were spread by ants. Tuna cans were then placed under each bedpost filled with water, which deterred the ants but also provided mosquitos the perfect place to breed…right in the hospitals.

The French government, almost bankrupted in 1889 due to the heavy outlays incurred financing the construction of the canal, was defeated by the challenge and the construction company sold its contract to the American Federal Government; the US financial arrangement was spearheaded by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1903. At the time, Panama was part of Colombia. Colombian leaders refused to support the new arrangement. Americans in their fashion, negotiated with some Panamanian revolutionaries to declare independence from Colombia promising to support them with a navy warship. Colombia sent their own troops, but with the Americans already in position backing the revolutionaries and other smartly played moves by the revolutionaries, Panamanian independence was affirmed with minimal casualties on November 3, 1903.

President Theodore Roosevelt gettin’ it done!

The Americans, with a West Indies labor force, started work on site in 1904. The canal was completed with little fanfare on August 15th, 1914, just after World War II commenced. It cost the United States a total of US$352 million and an additional 5,600 deaths to build today’s 24-hour a day operating canal. Quite the dramatic beginning to mark one of today’s ‘Wonders of the World,’ still considered one of the most extraordinary feats of engineering of all time!

Gatun Locks of Panama Canal from Caribbean into Gatun Lake.

By Leslie Dennis-Rigney with additions from Eric Rigney

 Nuku Hiva, Marquesas in Five Days or Less

http://www.noonsite.com/Countries/FrenchPolynesia/french-polynesia-marquesas-nuku-hiva-in-five-days/

Rounding the Southwest corner of Nuku Hiva

This is a posting that Eric sent to the world cruiser’s fabulous resource: www.noonsite.com back in 2016. It was never posted to our site and he thought with the upcoming 2019 Pacific crossing season approaching, our past knowledge might come in handy to the newbie Pacific Puddle jumpers. Some of the details may be a little dated, but things are slow to change in the Marquesas.

Taiohae Bay, Nuku Hiva. We anchored in the little inlet for almost a year: June 2015-May 2016.

 June 2015, Leslie, Bryce (13), Trent (11), and I arrived from the Galapagos Islands in the Marquesas aboard Kandu, our 42-foot Tayana sailboat. Intending to stay only a few weeks, we remained nearly a year, becoming certified residence in the administrative capital of Taiohae, Nuku Hiva. Our sons would be the first Americans to attend Taiohae’s middle-school. Having been in Nuku Hiva as long, we thought it helpful to share some recommendations as to what to see and do were one to have 1-5 days to spend and cooperative weather. A detailed guide written by Rose Corsair points out the nearby historical sites and is available at her shop on the west side of the bay.  So, here’s a short-list, in order of priority.  Of course, spending more time at any one or more of these locations is preferable.  Note: Although many services are described, this is meant mostly to serve as a sailing cruiser’s touring guide, getting the most out of Nuku Hiva in the shortest time, and does not provide a comprehensive list of available services.

Kandu in Taiohae, Nuku Hiva
Taiohae Bay seen from opposite side of the quai.

Standard Polynesian traveling preparations: water, bug spray, sun protection, a good pair of hiking sandals suitable for mud, seawater, and streams, and a roll of toilet paper in a Ziplock.

1st Day, Taiohae, from east to west

Petit Quai dinghy dock (pronounced “per-TEET KAY”), services listed in order of appearance starting from this popular sailors meeting place:

Snack Vaekai aka Chez Henri (among other languages, Henry speaks English and can help solve most any boat problem the Marquesan way) (meals $8-$10): Internet WiFi with food purchase, mostly Marquesan menu, including the classic Marquesan poisson cru(lime-marinated fresh fish in fresh squeezed coconut milk), fresh squeezed fruit juices or citronade (lime-ade), and individual bananas that you pull from any one of the many stalks hanging along the tent’s edge to accompany your meal. Bananas are consumed here like bread or tortilla chips are in US restaurant. For dessert: gateau beurre(butter cake), ice cream, or firi-firi(French Polynesian donut). No alcohol served (BYOB from Kamake, see below).

Welcoming Quai businesses of Taiohae Bay, Nuku Hiva

Next stores to Henri’s, a boutique selling nice shirts, skirts, caps, and Hinano stickers, and a dive excursion shop, filling tanks and taking you out, but no classes.

Henri, like a brother to me, shows off a plate of his poisson cru, lime-marinated raw yellow fin tuna.

Then it’s Yacht Services Nuku Hiva (YSNH), Kevin can help you check in and/or with the authorities and help solve boat problems (the American way).  He sells Marquesan courtesy flags, souvenirs, and houses one of the island’s premiere tattoo artists: Moana.   YSNH can also set you up with one of their many island tours.  Laundry and WiFi are just some of the services he offers.

Trash and oil dump location.

Open Market: Fresh fruits and vegetable stand, daily 6am-3pm except Sundays. (4 a.m. Saturday if you want tomatoes!!!)

Chez Celina, in the market place at the end of the quay, serves local dishes, ($6-$10), cold beer, and offers Wi-Fi with a purchase. Serves standard Marquesan fare as well as Marquesan dishes with international spiced variations

Quay restrooms are now payable ($1, or free when you eat at Celina’s), but not yet well maintained.  We “lobbied” to improve this circumstance, asking that they have toilet seats, doors, toilet paper, soap and drying towels. Would also like to see the showers working too. There’s a place to hand wash clothes behind the building near the toilets.  During rains, the water which is non-potable becomes brown with sediment and can stain clothes.  Currently no potable tap water in Taiohae, except one of the three free filtered water stations, none of which are close to the quai.

Communal artisan center, more active when a cruise ship passes through.  If you see something you like, buy it.  It might not be there tomorrow. When larger cruise ships pull into port, Ua Pou arrives to sell inexpensive black pearls.

Tourist office, with maps and information about the Marquesas.  Speak English.  Can set you up with Nuku Hiva tours: Richard Dean and Jocylene speak English.  Average tour cost $65 pp plus lunch.  Tourist office has the best public restrooms on Nuku Hiva!!!!

Saturday morning flea market (marche de puce), 5-6:30am, fresh seafood and prepared foods. Tuna, wahoo, etc. $5/kilo.  Live lobster, $15/kilo (out of season Feb-April).

General Stores: Taiohae has 5 general stores and 2 hardware stores.  Larssons, next to Kamake sells higher-end items like curries, coconut oil, etc.  The store furthest away, past the pharmacy, is open 7 days a week.  The one behind Socredo, the only bank, across from the stadium field, is open during lunch, Monday-Sat.  Cold anything, including soft drinks, beer ($2.50-$3/can), wine, chocolate, meats, cheese, and ice cream. Fresh baked baguette bread ($0.70) and pastries daily except Sundays and holidays.  Kamake open 5:30-11:30am Mon-Sat, 2-6:30pm Mon-Fri, Larsson’s opens later. Fresh vegetables and inexpensive casse-croute(sandwiches) sold in front of Kamake until 11:30am.  These general stores offer free truck rides to the Petit Quai if you have a heavy or large purchase, but you have to ask.

Kou’eva Ceremonial Grounds, Taiohae, Nuku Hiva

Kou’eva – Inland ceremonial grounds, restored for traditional cultural festivals. To find it, turn right up the town’s center street, main intersection, between Magasin Kamake and Magasin Larsson. Walk about a mile up, not far from the school bus stop, a super small sign on the right side of street marks right turn toward Taiohae’s reconstructed ceremonial grounds.  The walk from the paved street inland along the dirt road is further than you think and which road to take at each informal intersection is not obvious . . . so, ask any passersby, or worst case, walk back and take the other path if you guess wrong.

Magasin Kamake, Taiohae, Nuku Hiva

Chez Bigo Hardware:  Walking from Kou-eva back to the seafront, as you descend, you may notice Chez Bigo, the island’s most comprehensive hardware store to your right, just before the bus stop, across the small bridge.  They serve cold drinks and packaged snacks like candy bars if the Kou’eva walk zapped your energy.

Moana Nui Restaurant, Pension, and Car Rental – on the main drag, further west after the main intersection. More European than Marquesan menu ($12-$30).  Great steak. Serves French-style pizza (no mozzarella cheese for pizza in French Polynesia), beer and wine and mixed drinks. More expensive than the two Petit Quai “Snacks” (cafes), less expensive than Pearl Lodge.

Cathedral Taiohae – Ask permission to enter building.  Strict protocols. Rose Corsair, on the westside of the bay, sells a guidebook for Nuku Hiva that includes descriptions of elements within the cathedral. Beautiful woodcarvings inside and out. Sunday mass begins with meditative chants at 7am, regular mass at 8am, ends 9-9:30am.  Look for the Marquesan version of the Christian cross (previously Marquesan symbol for southern cross, I think). Butted together, the Marquesan cross figures look like a pattern of men.

Cathedral Taiohae with Leslie Rigney

Tohua Temehea – Seaside ceremonial grounds, built for traditional cultural festivals since 1989. Read the informational sign on-site (in French and English) for details

Melville Monument – Tucked in on the shore side, neighbouring the western cemetery.
A wonderfully carved large tree stump with weathered roof top and missing elements, shows the path he hiked out of Taiohae and over to Taipi Vai. The monument is reported placed at the beach location where Melville reportedly jumped ship and headed for the hills.

Joel’s Bella Pizza: Great pizza, ($12.50-$18; $3 delivery to Petit Quai), a less expensive alternative to Moana Nui Restaurant’s pizza.  The “Indian” and “Petit Quai” versions are our favorites. Better than the pizza are the decadent desserts, tiramisu and cheesecake ($4, large slices)

Restaurant and Marquesas Museum at Chez Rose’s.  Rose was an American sailing cruiser who arrived in Taiohae in 1972 with her husband Frank and later returned to stay since 1977. Far west side of bay.  Never know when it’s open.  Knock.  Great exhibit. Sells a great Nuku Hiva guidebook in multiple languages. Restaurant serves an excellent hamburger.  Free WiFi, password-free (some anchor their boats at this side of the bay to get closer to her wifi). A more casual Friday night happy hour than Pearl Lodge, Kevin sometimes arranges a complimentary communal taxi for sailors from his YSNH shop on the Petit Quay.

Pearl Lodge – Nuku Hiva’s gorgeous (expensive) bar, restaurant ($18-$40), hotel ($225/night).  Very nice! Beautiful view of Taiohae Bay. Friday evening Happy Hour, half off beautiful $14 frou-frou cocktails (or as I see it, two for the price of one!)

Swimming
Remember in the Marquesas, beach equals no-no’s. They breed in the sand between fresh and seawater.  Usually, it seems, the whiter the sand, the greater the no-no’s.
Beaches:  Kouvea beach on the eastern side of the bay, in front of the French Administrator’s residence.  To the west, in front of Rose’s place, there’s a beach but more no-no’s than Kouvea. And over the western hill, there’s Colette’s Bay, see “Hikes” below.

Sharks? 

  • Cleaning boat bottoms and swimming in the bay have not been a problem for us or anyone else.  Locals say sharks are a problem, but Kevin from Nuku Hiva Yacht Services and the Fire Dept. haven’t heard of an actual incident.  Kevin says he is never concerned about jumping in to the bay to fix a boat.
  • That said, I would not advise swimming near the Petit Quai as sharks feed on fishermen’s scraps.  Still, many cruisers have dived here, jumping in after fallen items, without incident.

Hikes (Randonee, in French)

Sentinal/East bay mouth

Moderate, but sometimes steep.  Bring water.  No facilities.
Between 1.5 and 2 hours R/T at steady pace.
Leave early in the morning, before it gets hot, before 7 am is best. Take upper road above fuel station to maintained dirt path.  Ask any locals how to get to the start.

 Taiohae overview vista, walk up the center road, as done for Kou’eva, until you get to the top for a stunning view (hitch hike if you don’t want to walk).

 Colette’s Bay, over the ridge on the other side of the bay’s west side, . . . path starts above Rose’s motel. Turn right above the motel, then another immediate right, walking down and curving left.  Stay on main dirt road until your reach top of saddle/ridge.  Turn left, opening and closing the barbed-wire gate.  (If you turn right, you’re on your way to Hakaui Bay, a much further hike, so ask in advance where the paths turn). Colette’s Bay is where Survivor Marquesas filmed their challenges. Great swimming beach.  Remember, beach equals no-no’s.

2nd Day, Car Tour

Pre-arrange a guide in Taiohae for a driving tour ($50-$120pp). Richard, Jocylene, and Kevin speak English.  Ask Tourism Office, Henri, Rose, or Kevin to help you find a guide.  Or go solo, diesel 4×4 rental is about $120/day plus fuel.

Self-guided?

  • Taipi Vai, Tohua ceremonial grounds (toilets often available) w/modern stone tiki.
  • Hoomi, see church and visit with Pena, a sculptor (toilets available in Hoomi).
    Hatiheu Ceremonial Grounds

    Ron Dennis indicating the ancient petroglyphs depicting a mahimahi, Hatiheu
  • Hatiheu
    • Road from Taipi Vai to Hatiheu and beyond becomes rough dirt and washed out rock, requiring 4×4.
    • Once arrived, visit the archeological ceremonial grounds, see petroglyphs
    • Check out the Marquesan history exposition. Great history of Anaho too.
    • Virgin Mary statue atop pinnacle southwest side of bay.
    • Chez Yvonne’s for lunch (toilets available). Feed a piece of baguetteto the fresh water eels adjacent her restaurant.
  • Aakapa vista point, beautiful Attitoka mountain ridge.
    Aakapa Bay and Attitoka Mountain Range
    • From Hatiheu to Aakapa and especially beyond, requires 4×4 driving skill.  If it were raining, I’d pass on going to Aakapa and/or beyond.
    • Some drive from there (Aakapa) directly to the airport, but told the brush surrounding this un-maintained dirt road can scratch cars.
  • Drive across central plateau toward airport (or from airport, depending on how you drove there).  This area is called ‘Too Vii’ or as some call it, mini-New Zealand, with its fresh air and pines. Stop at vista points at the top of the mountain ridge, including Nuku Hiva’s Grand Canyon.

3rd Day, Hakatea Bay and Hakaui Valley

Before sailing over, quickly stop off at one of the nearby stores and buy fresh baguettes in Taiohae to give to Hakaui locals that same day. Nice gift.

Leave Taiohae, sail west to Hakatea, 1-1.5 hr motorsail, and anchor on the eastern bay aka “Daniel’s” Bay, where Survivor was shot.  Daniel passed away a few years ago. This is also the bay where not so long ago a German sailor was murdered by an emotionally troubled man, currently serving time in Papeete.  Careful, lots of no-no’s (noseums), some even fly to the anchored boat.

Walk west along bay’s north shore to Hakaui Bay.

Wade through river to other side (good place to run your dinghy to give it a fresh water internal rinse). Along the start of your way up the path to the waterfall, make lunch reservations for your return trip (4 hrs R/T) with one of the valley families.  Teiki and Kua, as you enter the village, are favorites, but all meals from any family here are great.  $10pp.  Warning: Don’t take Teiki’s picture without permission! Easier if you dine at his place.

Friends Kua and Teiki showed Rosie Dennis Marquesan amity when we visited the Hakaui waterfall.
Hakaui Canyon, Nuku Hiva

Continue walking deeper inland toward one of the world’s most breathtaking waterfalls, following a not so carefully marked path.  Walking through the stream is sometimes safer than negotiating slippery rocks and tree trunks over the stream.  After three trips prior, we went with a guide, Thierry, and saw three times as much, and more safely.

WARNING: Rocks can fall from atop, esp. the open field closest to the falls.  Move quickly and quietly when adjacent cliffs.  Don’t attempt this hike if raining, or rain predicted as flash floods are likely.  Swimming to the very base of the falls places you in danger of falling rocks.  Fresh water eels live in the ponds and stream. Not harmful, but they often nip at your legs.

Wear bug repellent and re-apply after swimming in waterfall pond.

4th Day, Anaho Bay

Sail to Anaho, on the northeast corner of Nuku Hiva. About a 6-hour motor-sail. Careful of the rock on the SE corner of the island, off Controller Bay and Tikapo pt.

One of the most scenic and protected bays in the Marquesas, Anaho is where Marquesans go to vacation.  Can’t help but sing Rogers and Hammerstein’s Bali Hai  when I turn the corner to enter the bay.

To protect the coral, anchor south of the coral-carved dinghy path, cut to the shore.

Kandu in Anaho Bay, Nuku Hiva, Marquesas

Good snorkeling, safe (no sharks, sometimes jellyfish), clear, often times manta rays. Don’t eat any fish caught there. (Ciguatera).

Fresh spring water available from a free-running hose on the beach for drinking and bathing.

Anaho Bay

Careful, no-no’s on the beach and even more so to the east. Good surfing and a plantation on the beach over the small hill to the east.  Be warned—mega no-no’s on the beach, so run to the surf. Moana Sr., owns the fruit and vegetable farm and has re-opened a small pension in Anaho that serves meals. This makes two pensions that sometimeserve meals, but difficult to count on.  Usually about $10 a large plate of local fare.

Many artisans live in Anaho Bay, including a well-known Marquesan tattoo artist, Moana (Jr.), when he’s not in Taiohae at Kevin’s YSNH.

Lastly, a nice hike up and over western ridge of Anaho to Hatiheu.  There and back (2.5 hr R/T), start early as it gets hot. Easier coming back than going.  Some brag they walk it in half the time.  Again, Chez Yvonne’s, a restaurant popular with cruise ship tourists, is in Hatiheu.

5th Day, Controller’s Bay a.k.a. Taipi Vai (South) or Hanapani (North), let the swell decide:

If the swell is coming from the north, then better to go south.  Taipi Vai is where Herman Melville lived for a couple weeks and about which he later wrote his first novel, Typee. From Anaho, sail east then a sharp turn south along the east coast toward the SE corner of Nuku Hiva (careful, there’s still that killer rock off the point to watch out for).

Taipi Vai Controller’s Bay, Nuku Hiva

Once in Controller Bay, there are three smaller bays from which to choose: Hoomi to the east, Hakapuvai/Hakapaa to the west (only good if no swell), and Taipi Vai in between. Coral surrounds these bays, so anchor in the middle of them.

Hakapuvai & Hakapaa, are private properties, owned by local families.  Together these two beaches comprise the other Survivor beach.

Hakapuvai waterfall
  • We anchor in Hakapaa, the bay to starboard, more easterly, where you may spot pigs roaming the beach and might fumble your way to the pretty waterfall and pool (easy, short hike) in the back, to the west (left when facing inland from your cockpit).
  • Hakapuvai, to the west, has a beach of shells, excellent for combing.
  • Snorkeling over coral is possible in both bays.
  • Occasionally no-no’s can reach the boat.

If the swell is coming from the south, may be better to go north to Hanapani Bay, northwest Nuku Hiva.

Haven’t visited this bay yet, but have been told by those who have that when the swell allows, for those who prefer remote white-sand beaches and clear water without other boats nearby, this is the place to be.  It’s just west of Aakapa.  Aakapa is not good for anchoring.  Pua, further west than Hanapani, is quiet as well, but its landscape is a tad less “magnifique.”

If you’re planning to visit Nuku Hiva, I hope this little outline helps you get the most from your visit.  If you’re in the Marquesas and not planning to visit Nuku Hiva, I hope this outline entices you to reconsider.  See hello to Henri for me.  I love that guy!

All the best!  Eric Rigney – SY Kandu

While we were in the Marquesas, we sailed over to Hiva Oa to witness the Marquesan Festival that occurs every two years. It was worth planning around!!

Matava’a Hiva Oa Opening Ceremony: December 16th 2015

 

A Little Moroccan History by Bryce Rigney

Modern day Morocco maintains many traits from the beginning of its 3000 year-old history. Street vendors, bargaining rituals, thieves, food stands, and tourists all have roles in the large cities. Morocco’s traditions have been through it all: the Phoenician arrival in 1100BCE, era of Roman rule in 146BCE, the Arab invasion (including Spain) in 711CE, and finally, the 21stcentury.

Phoenicians, Morocco’s first “tourists,” came by sea from Lebanon in 1100BCE. They invaded the lands of the indigenous Berber tribes and began colonization of Morocco. With the frazzled Berbers who escaped to the mountains, the coast was an easy seizure. Through prosperous coastline trading, Phoenicians jealously guarded Morocco for an additional millennial. By 700BCE, present day Tangier, Rabat, Essaouira, (in Morocco) and Carthage (another North African Phoenician major trade colony in Tunisia) had been developed. Fiercely they proclaimed the epicenter of North African trade. Glory was theirs, until 146BCE.

Marrakesh Koutoubia Minaret considered the most perfect in N. Africa. Almohad architecture.

Following the trend of Mediterranean coastlines, Morocco and most of North Africa fell under Roman rule. In 146BC Roman forces crossed the Mediterranean and sacked Carthage for her valuable trade. During this time the Berber Kingdom (an accumulation of local tribes and refugees) began to grow. By 44CE Emperor Claudius imposed direct Roman rule. First course of action was a separation of North African territory into two groups: “Mauritania Cesarensis,” (Old Numidia) and “Mauritania Tingitana,” (essentially Morocco). Oddly this was the only discernable action pursued by the Romans over their reign from 146BC-429AD. The multiple attacks and rebellions from Berber and Germanic tribes probably prevented further changes to Morocco.

Bryce Rigney, Bahia Palace, Marrakesh, Morocco

As degeneration of Roman North African provinces became more apparent, Berber and Germanic tribes grew in power. Eventually in 429CE, a Germanic tribe marauded the Moroccan region and seized power until in 533CE when powerful Byzantines claimed the coastlines for their use as wealthy trading outposts. Less than 150 years later came the introduction of Islam, led by the Arab Governor “Oqba Idn Nafi,” though it was a questionable reign after their 5000-kilometer pilgrimage from Arabia to the Atlantic Ocean, Morocco’s Islamic future set anchor. Then came “Tariq Ibn Ziad,” an Arab Governor from western Morocco who took Islam further. During his reign in 711AD, he rallied the people to conquer Europe. Across the Mediterranean, the new Governor led his fleet to Spain, conquering Spain with the exception of the Spanish Mountains. The Islamic Arab conquest peaked in Spain, though due to lack of accountability, things became uncontrollable. Thus began the dispersion of the Muslim world.

Essaouira ramparts at the top of the Skala de la Ville, the great sea bastion

Morocco became a mother for many revolution refugees throughout the Middle East. Moulay Idriss was among these refugees. Morocco’s growing population soon yearned for a government. Adopted by the people as their leader, Moulay Idriss established the first sound Government and Arab court in Fez creating Morocco’s first capital city. After his assassination in 828CEthe Idriss dynasty remained firm for another century. Morocco soon began an interchanging supervision between powerful family tribes up through the mid-1800.

Saadian Tombs dating from 1554-1669, Marrakesh.

In 1492 drastic changes were made, Arabs were completely chased out of Europe by the Spanish inquisition. Forced to reconstruct their own lives in lands like Morocco, and after a bit of French & English colonialism in the 19th-20thcenturies, the people of Morocco make up a nation of two prominent peoples led by a king: Berbers in the mountains and southern regions, Arabs living on the coastlines and in the cities.

Laazama Synagogue, first Jewish Synagogue in Marrakesh, Morocco. It is still in use.
Bryce Rigney at the city walls built around Marrakesh Medina

During my two months spent in Morocco, I could sense its history. Street vendors, bargaining rituals, thieves, and food stands hoard ancient sand dunes and cobblestone roads. Sadly through the glass, corrupt oligarchies still administer the land. Through all their changes and attempts at modernization through the support from Europe and America, Morocco remains cloaked 100 years behind a long sleeved smock.

I think the camel liked me!

Mindelo: a Piece of African Cake

This article can also be viewed at the world cruiser’s Noonsite.com. Just follow this link: Cape Verde: Mindelo Marina and Town.

Sailing in from Lanzarote late November 2018, prior e-mail contact with Marina Mindelo indicated no berths would be available during this, their high rally season.  Three rallies, 2 ARC and 1 French, meant 95 extra boats would fill their pontoons to capacity during the same week our unintended circumstances had us arriving. Rounding the northern point between Sao Vicente and the large rock northwest of the Grand Port, the marina informed us over VHF ch72 that they were able to make space for us and to look out for their red dinghy, manned to assist us.  With a forecast of high winds the coming weekend and Noonsite reports of several thefts aboard anchored boats in this popular bay, we tied up bow-in to the leeward side of Pontoon A, grabbing the mooring line from the dock hands and tying it off to our stern.

Mindelo Marina, Sao Vicente, Cape Verde ARC rally participants 2018

The one-hour time difference between Canary and Cape Verde Islands meant that after checking into the marina, we had 30 minutes left before the state offices closed.  Using the map the marina office provided, I quickly walked solo the short distance to both Immigration and Border Police, offices adjacent each other just beyond the ferry terminal.  Border Police had a simple form to fill out and would hold our ship’s original documentation paper, to be returned on check out.  Contrary to another Mindelo cruiser’s Noonsite report, no paper relinquishing them of any responsibility of theft was offered or required.  Immigration took a copy of our crew list and stamped our 3 passports, requiring €5 total for the service.  Both offices gave notice that if we wished to depart on a weekend, we’d have to clear out through their offices the Friday before.  The whole process, both offices together,  took 15-20 minutes.

Marina Mindelo, Sao Vicente, Cape Verde, Nov 2018

Checking into the marina was simple. Proof of Insurance, the captain’s passport to scan, and a standard form describing the vessel, crew, and prior/next ports were all that were required before taking my Visa credit card.  They charge by the square meter.  Our boat, 12.7m x 3.8m cost just about $30 day, which includes security, power, toilets, and access to WiFi through their Floating Bar restaurant. Water is a premium here, so the marina access card doubles as the water card.  One pre-pays for water, $5 buys 250 liters for both their showers (hot) and dockside water.  Although potable, it was highly recommended it be filtered. Their fuel dock offers VAT-free diesel, costing about $1/liter, 15% less than at the street-side service pump. The high volume of cruisers arriving for the rallies motivated the marina to set up a telecommunication SIM provider on premises. One euro bought the SIM, €10 bought 8 GB of data, valid for 30 days. The marina is well run, clean, and convenient to all services.

BoatCV operates a smart yacht services shop on premises and can connect boats with other service providers.  There seems to be some bad blood between the marina and BoatCV owners, but we had no issues. The facilities, marina staff, the restaurant staff, security, and the chandlery are attentive and professional, operating at the highest standards relative to most locations we visited across our circumnavigation. A swell surge can push boats around and strong gusts can jet through the bay’s valley, so many fenders, chafing gear, and attention to dock lines is required.  When it comes to an overall wet-berth marina experience, this place is hard to beat.

The location is convenient as well, central to Mindelo.  Many cultural opportunities are within walking distance of the marina and inexpensive land tours can be had.  Open markets and small supermarkets have most anything one may wish to provision. The local butane gas company seems capable of filling most any gas bottle fitting, including Amerian/Australian.  Cooking gas filling service itself is straight forward and nearly immediate.  Laundry from an outside vendor is collected and returned at 09h and 17h daily. They charged $12 for 7kg of laundry, washed, dried, and folded. From the USA, we had two items mailed to us at the marina Priority International USPS, a box of parts and an envelope of documents.  The parts took a week and no customs charges were applied; the documents, 2 weeks.  As for security, the marina feels safe and guarded from theft.  I can’t speak to boats anchored.  The ever-present young men and boy beggars and the proximity of the beach to the anchored boats might prove problematic.

Mindelo is mellow, quaint, clean, and convenient. The views of the surrounding mountains and nearby island are stunning.  Yes, industry surrounds the port, but feels much less imposing than at other countries we’ve visited.  Portuguese and Creole are the common languages spoken here.  Service providers offer varying degrees of English, French, Spanish, German, etc. We enjoyed the local dishes and drinks. Cachupa is never the same dish from restaurant to restaurant, so once is not enough.  Grogue is a local spirit as strong as vodka and “punch” is a syrup, low in alcohol. Both are inexpensive, less than the cost of a soft drink. Together, they make a tasty cocktail. I think they should give my new cocktail creation the French name for a mooring buoy, “corps mort,” which, when translated directly means, “dead body.” (Turns out I didn’t invent anything. The drink’s actual name sounds like: “Strompf-Parot.”)

Through the marina office, we arranged a standard island tour, covering three coasts.  It was well worth the €60 for the three of us (the car accepts up to 4 at no extra cost), which included driving to the windy summit of Mt Verde, the tallest mountain on the island.  The driver didn’t speak English and very little French, so we didn’t learn much about the history, but he took us to great photo spots, walking paths, and Restaurant Hamburg for an inexpensive local lunch.

Mindelo view from Monte Verde, Sao Vicente

Sailing to Cape Verde took us 8 days and will cut about 3-4 days from our upcoming Atlantic crossing to French Guiana.  I feel the extra time spent to experience this African island was well worth the diversion.  It also proved to be enjoyable and pleasant way to shake down the boat before our third and last ocean crossing.  I wouldn’t insist that a cruiser come this way, but were they to make the effort, they would likely be pleased that they did, especially if they could dock at the marina.

From here, we leave for French Guiana, Suriname, and possibly Guyana, in route toward the Panama Canal. Cheers from sv Kandu!

Importing Parts into Morocco by Eric Rigney, 2018

October 18, 2018

While preparing to leave Agadir Marina, I found our Yanmar freshwater pump leaked beyond repair and needed replacement.  With only 7 Schengen days left on our visa and Spain’s Canary Islands at high season with packed marinas, I decided to take my chances with what I read was a difficult Moroccan Customs. First my experience, then how I should have done it.

Morocco does not allow yacht owners to import parts free of duty “yacht in transit” unless the part is coming in as part of an insurance claim and the yacht’s insurance agency works with one of the many pre-approved Moroccan insurance partners.  Although the US vendor was cheaper, I privately ordered a pump, bolts, plus a spare and all gaskets from dieselpartseurope.com $825 US. Both DHL and FedEx have offices in Agadir.  Dieselpartseurope.com shipped FedEx, 3-4 days, Netherlands to Agadir for $165. Within 48 hrs, the packaged arrived in Casablanca where Customs held it.

Packages above $20 do not transfer within Morocco automatically, and having clients refuse to pay customs fees, FedEx will no longer accept in advance on your behalf and pass on the charges to the recipient at acquisition. Note also that mechanical parts costing more than $1,360 (including freight, insurance, tax), must come with an additional importation permit. Two days after the package arrived in Casablanca, I received a FedEx notification of Customs’ withholding. I called FedEx Casablanca for clarification.  I’m glad I speak some French.  FedEx offered me three options: come to Casablanca and deal with it by myself, hire a broker to deal with it on my behalf, or pay FedEx $60 to broker it on my behalf. I opted for the latter. They asked for a copy of my passport, a copy of the invoice with my ‘ship to’ name and marina address, a photo image of the parts, and a parts description in French. I lost an additional two days due to some minor inconsistencies with my invoice, but fortunately dieselpartseurope.com and I were in similar time zones and they made the necessary modifications. Then FedEx Casablanca asked for a bank transfer to cover the Customs’ costs (23.5% ++, of total invoice including taxes, freight, packing, and insurance), $275. FedEx Casablanca would not accept a credit card. As an American, not easily able to transfer funds as the rest of Europe does, I discovered I could instead pay the FedEx office in Agadir. I paid in cash but I think the Agadir office might have accepted a Visa credit card. Two days later, Casablanca had the package.  The next day they shipped it to Agadir and the next day it arrived, 12 days after it arrived in Casablanca. I then had to pay FedEx a Customs’s storage fee based on weight and duration of $17, not FedEx’s charge.

Water intake pump!

Recommended procedure: contact FedEx or DHL office Agadir in advance for a list of recommended brokers and see how much they charge, or deal directly with Agadir’s FedEx or DHL in advance and pre-arrange payment options, asking them to alert you ASAP of customs duties, taxes, and fees owed.  Exchange with a representative’s contact information, phone and email.  Provide them with the tracking number, a copy of your passport, the invoice, photos of the parts, description of the part in French and why you need them.  Make certain the “Ship to” invoice is to your name, with the marina as an address, not the recipient. My hope would be that by doing this in advance, you’ll save 5-7 days.

One more option: go through the commercial Yanmar dealer in Agadir.  They’re located in the commercial port where foreigners don’t have access, but Youssef Ajewher, a kind local yacht service person, a former merchant ship engineer, working privately at Agadir marina would be glad to assist you. The Yanmar dealer is said to provide you with a quote including freight, time frames, and customs’ costs estimates within 2-3 days.  I didn’t go this way only because on day 1, I had a quote in hand from dieselpartseurope.com, with FedEx 3-4 day.  I don’t know what the cost or experience would have been had I waited for the quote from the Agadir Yanmar dealer.  I may have jumped too soon. I do not know.

Agadir Marina Yacht Services : Youssef Ajewher

+212 (0) 6 77 45 68 87,  aj************@gm***.com

Youssef Ajewher, +212 (0) 6 77 45 68 87
aj************@gm***.com

Eric Rigney, s/v Kandu, Agadir, Morocco

“How to” Filter Diesel & Store for Long Crossings 2018

October 2018

My wife, teenage son, and I are circumnavigating aboard our 42-foot Tayana sailboat Kandu, currently waiting for a replacement freshwater pump for our Yanmar engine in Agadir, Morocco, in preparation for our trip to the Canary Islands. I have some time to pass on some how-to’s we’ve learned over the past 4 years of cruising. Diesel fueling is a frequent chore on our boat.

DIESEL STORAGE: In order to motor distances greater than Kandu’s 500-liter tanks would allow, like when we motored thousands of miles through the pirate zone north of Somalia, and up the Red Sea, to minimize how often we have to go to fuel docks, we’ve loaded Kandu up with 320-liters of cannisters or Gerry jugs. In a Belgian museum, we learned that the term “Gerry jug” comes from WWII US G.I. slang for fuel cannisters modeled after those used by the German military. “Gerry” was slang for a German, thus Gerry jugs.

RECYCLED or REPURPOSED JUGS: In the US, sailors buy their Gerry jugs complete with nozzles, whereas the rest of the world uses alternatives which are free and readily available sans nozzle, converting 20-25 liter heavy duty plastic motor oil, coolant, and/or vegetable oil containers into diesel jugs. In Gibraltar, smugglers loaded with jugs of fuel throw overboard their empty and sometimes full jugs. Each morning, fishermen collect the discarded jugs. That’s how we got our last five 25-liter jugs, from Pepe, a helpful man you got them from a fisherman. The jugs interiors are cleaned with soap and water and then rinsed out with diesel that is discarded to provide a container ready to top up.

Recycled or repurposed gerry jugs

GASKETS: Not designed for re-use, these types of recycled jugs often leak fuel from their caps. The standard third-world solution is to cut squares from recycled plastic bags and screw them on between the cap and the jug, a poor man’s gasket. These gaskets are good for one or two uses before they fall apart and need replacing.

Recycled jugs need plastic bag gaskets

FILTERING: Diesel engines require clean fuel to run properly, free of debris and water. We rarely take fuel directly into our tanks without filtering it through our specifically engineered water fuel filter funnel; diesel is able to pass through the filter’s fine screen but amazingly, water does not. Water molecules are too large and don’t pass through the fine mesh.

Water separator fuel filter

SYPHONING: To migrate the fuel from a Gerry jug into one of our three tanks, we set the jug such that its bottom is above the level of the deck fitting and then use a syphon hose with a chambered glass ball that when shaken gets the syphoning action going without having to suck fuel in with our mouths and risk swallowing and/or breathing it in. An alternative way to get the syphoning action to start is to place a short second hose alongside the syphoning hose with a firmly held (air tight) rag, and blow through it to cause the air pressure to initiate the syphoning action.

Bryce Rigney syphoning and filling diesel tanks from gerry jugs
And lastly, old-school, just dip the hose as far you can into the jug without losing it. Place your thumb firmly over the hose’s opening, and quickly pull the hose out, drawing with it the fuel that filled the hose, releasing your thumb.

So that’s it. That’s how we store and fill our boat’s tanks with diesel.  Hope this proves helpful.

Here is a pdf version of this article: 2018-11-2_Diesel Fill by Eric Rigney