Only the Few

Having risen before 6am we had only time for a single cup of coffee before pulling away from the docks. So when our outward bound bar crossing at Bahia del Sol proved to be entirely unexciting we were entirely pleased not to be more rudely awakened. Crashing waves were non-existent and we didn’t get even slightly wet.

We crossed the bar as a company of two boats. S/V Avant, crewed by Rob and Debra, are heading to Panama and we are tagging along with them for a portion of their trip. As the end of the day’s light was dimming we made it around the corner into Golfo de Fonseca and into a calm anchorage at Playa Tamarindo.

Happy, happy to be sailing again.

Crossing the bar with Avant.

The following day was a short 3 hr passage to Isla Tigre, just over the border line into Honduras. Alice and I had been there the year previously and the neat simplicity of the procedures we had experienced checking in and out of Honduras proved to be an illusion. It turns out we had never actually left the country. We showed the officials a copy of the exit zarpe they had issued (permission for the boat to leave) but could show no corresponding exit stamp in our passports. Muy problema! The sign on the wall stipulated that we had to pay a fine of $US1,791 each. Ouch! As in, no bloody way, ouch.

After a lengthy back and forth discussion in our miserable Spanish, and upon some reflection on their part that the mistake might not have been entirely ours, it was proposed that the fines could be reduced to $170 each. Hmmm. How about still no? ...Ok, if you leave in 24 hours you can depart with no fines, but no passport stamps for you! With this ruling we have now officially become permanent illegal residents of Honduras. Ordinarily we wouldn’t care a whit about such a thing, but we had a sickening certainty that without an exit stamp the officials in Costa Rican would deny us entry into their country. Grrr. We took a small comfort in the fact that we were not being threatened by a stay in a room with bars.

The solution to the kerfuffle was a morning skedaddle followed by an unscheduled stop some 60 miles down coast into Nicaragua. Finding themselves unexpectedly in the company of international scofflaws, Rob and Debra chose to join our unlawful gang, damning the authorities with their rules and taking their chances as outlaws. Having previously been there, we felt reasonably confident that Nicaraguan officialdom would overlook the missing Honduran exit stamp and place nice new ones in our passports. We would thus be able to obtain officially issued paperwork that would satisfy the fussy bureaucrats in Costa Rica.  So off we went, criminals all.

Illegals exploring Amapala, Isla el Tigre for the day.

Our second visit to beautiful Isla el Tigre.

Lots of pangas and fishing nets to dodge in the Golfo de Fonseca.

Marina Puesta del Sol is a lovely but virtually abandoned resort in the pristine estuarial waters of coastal Nicaragua. The tumultuous politics of Nicaragua have virtually destroyed their tourist industry and elegant resort properties located in remote estuaries no longer receive visitors. We stayed a week, for 5 days of which we were their only guests.

Docked at Puesta del Sol Marina, Nicaragua.

Empty docks.

The pool all to ourselves.

Sunrise view.

The 2nd pool, ocean-side version.

Flor de Cana Tour, an hour by bus from the marina. They make world-famous rum. 

There was one dock-side guest however, that proved to be a real night-owl party animal. One of those guys you just can’t get to leave. We decided he was a rat. This assessment proved to be under-rated when we learned that he had much more impressive teeth than a rat. This made him a marsupial.  This important animal difference, while difficult to discern, is akin to the divide between a total scum-bucket and a guy all the girls are dying to date.  Turns out that while he's cute as all get out, he is afflicted with a rare eating disorder: "shrimpanolia" is known as an insatiable appetite for shrimp. Go figure. Our night-time marauder lost interest after we locked up all the shrimp containing food items in marsupial-proof plastic buckets .

And now go away so do we. Next stop, Costa Rica.

Opossum snacks