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There are still plenty of photos to post on this Panama Pacific Coast 2010 blog (I’ll try to get these done while we are in Golfito) but it is time to start a new blog now that we are in Costa Rica.  We will be returning to Panama soon hence the new blog’s name “Pacific Costa Rica (and more Panama) 2010” but this one is long enough.

If you like to get email updates when new posts are made you may wish to update this feature for the new blog.  I am going to add the previous entry of this blog to the beginning of the new one so you can skip that and I will try to get up-to-date with text and photos soon… 

After six marvelous weeks of hopping between islands and bays we have finally made our way to Golfito in Costa Rica.  After safe but very lumpy motoring into the wind and swells (and after attempting one hour of slow sailing) from Isla Gamez around the north end of Isla Parida, we passed south of Punta Burica around 3 am on Thursday (May 27^th).   Punta Burica is a narrow, unlit, and sparsely inhabited peninsula that is bisected by the national border, and while it does not share the reputation for strong currents and winds that Punta Mala has, the waves were especially large (8 – 13 ft) around it and the wind remained stubbornly on our nose even as we turned from a SW to NW heading.  Randall was also startled to discover it can be a night-fishing spot for tiny wooden pangas that have no lights, do not show up on the radar, and are only visible when within 50 ft.  One assumes that they will get out of our well-lit path if the fisher is awake but if not…

The messy seas (much more reminiscent of a sloppy Atlantic than I had been lead to expect by a certain Pacificophile) were presumably the result of stronger winds to our west and although sleeping was a bit of a challenge with the occasional wild rolls, at least the winds stayed below 20 knots most of the time, minimizing the hard slamming with which wind-whipped chop can punish a boat.  Still, as we entered the aptly named Golfo Dulce and greeted the dawn, slowly following the navigation aids (shore-mounted range-finders and red and green channel buoys) into the entrance of Golfito harbor, the peace of increasingly calmer waters was positively exquisite.

Armed with knowledge from our previous visit by land and with the aid of our excellent cruising guides (Charlie’s Charts of Costa Rica and the Pat Rains’ Cruising Ports – it was odd not to be using Bauhaus after nearly a year in Panama) we felt as though we were coming home rather than bringing Tregoning into a new country for the first time.  This sensation was further emphasized when we recognized Joss anchored near the Land and Sea Marina and as we maneuvered to drop the anchor near them, Harry hailed us on the VHF from Vahana in the nearby Banana Bay Marina.  Dede came out on deck to welcome us and we recognized the names of two or three other sailboats from Panamá City or the SSB network.  The three small marinas looked fairly busy but the anchorage was not crowded giving the place an intimate and friendly feel.  The small, waterside town (population about 4,000) was already a hive of morning activities as we dropped anchor around 7:30am and the sounds of chickens, dogs, motor vehicles, and water taxis were reflected out to us by the steep, forest-covered backdrop.

 We quickly got the dinghy in the water, put on the sail-cover and tidied up the decks before it got too hot and then rowed over to Joss to greet our long-lost friends and to learn from them the rituals of the Golfito check-in.  Having been over 11 months since we last checked-in to a new country it did not hurt to be reminded of all the formalities, although the experience in Golfito was anything but formal.  As Dede and Mike warned, however, it was a scavenger hunt of tiny, obscure offices that without their helpful map and directions could have been quite frustrating and took us five hours to complete as it was.

We rowed to the dinghy dock at the cruiser-friendly Land and Sea Marina (who charge $6 a day for use of their dock, showers, TV, local phone, garbage, water, common rooms, and wireless internet) and then stretched our legs walking into town to identify some of our intended destinations.  We then used a taxi driver, Manuel, for three hours of roaming between offices before we sent him on his way and returned to the marina by foot and bus.  The paperwork cha-cha involved: Port Captain’s office; photocopier shop for copies of our Panama zarpe; back to the Port Captain; Quarantine office; Immigration office; Customs office (in the duty-free zone at the far end of town) to find the relevant personnel were in a meeting for another 45 minutes; bank to deposit $55 for our non-existent quarantine inspection and fumigation; back to Customs to wait for the meeting to end (this is where we let Manuel leave us); back to the Port Captain’s office; and finally back to the Quarantine office.  We arrived at the latter office five minutes after the friendly inspector had told us she would break for lunch but she was kind enough to help us anyway or it would have been stretched to a six-hour process.  So it was time-consuming but really not very expensive (oddly, we gather that more fees are charged on leaving).

Randall, who had not slept well during his 10pm to 2 am or 6 am to 7am off-watches was distinctly dragging by the end but was substantially revived by a good afternoon nap.  After putting the outboard on the dinghy (and chaining it in place securely, Golfito has a slightly unexpected reputation for dinghy/outboard theft) we joined Dede, Mike, Judith, and Harry for drinks and dinner at Banana Bay. 

Harry and Judith had expected to be loading their sailboat the next day, on a ship for transport to Vancouver but the date had already been set-back twice to June 8^th, apparently because their ship was delayed in Tampa Bay, Florida (perhaps related to the terrible oil-well emergency in the Gulf of Mexico).  The stories that Mike and Dede had to tell of other boats in Golfito that had already been waiting for several weeks did not encourage them, especially as Harry had to return to Canada within a few days and would have to leave Judith on her own.  On the other hand, Dede and Mike had wonderful stories about visiting various local nature reserves that got us all excited so that once we get ourselves a bit more settled, Judith may come with us for some inland tours on the Peninsula de Osa (on the ocean side of Golfo Dulce) where scarlet macaws, numerous other birds, and mammals can be seen.

We slept exceptionally well that night in the flat-calm conditions and look forward to the three weeks or so that we will stay in Costa Rica before heading back to Taboga.  Whether we will venture very much further in Tregoning or will let her rest while we explore inland remains to be seen but knowing that we will return in the fall certainly allows us to feel more relaxed and flexible and not compelled to try to see everything that this beautiful country has to offer all at once.

When unfamiliar with the local language, it can be easy to assume that most place names are derived from a person’s name.  Islas Pedro Gonzales and San José were obvious examples and Coiba was thought to be a variation of the Indian Chief Quibol.  Many other names include straightforward adjectives such as Bahía Honda (Deep Bay), Ensenadas Hermosa and Naranjo (Beautiful- and Orange Coves), Islas Secas and Gobernadora (Dry- and Governor’s islands) and Golfo Dulce and Golfito (Sweet and Little Gulf, to where we were headed in Costa Rica).

The third group of names that required a bit of research in the Spanish dictionary were potentially the most interesting and on our recent travels included: Granito de Oro (the aptly named from a snorkeling perspective Nugget of Gold), La Bruja (The Witch – a nasty, mostly submerged rock), Isla Barco Quebrado (the rather ominous Island of the Broken Ship) and the distinctly odd Isla Parida, which in our dictionary translated to Island of “Stupid thing to say/do”.  We wondered if there was an interesting story behind this name, or another translation. It also made us glad that we had no pushed our luck in trying to navigate to another anchorage when the seas had been so rough on our arrival.

After three nights at Ensenada del Varadero (our little dictionary did not offer any suitable translation of this name unless it is related to a stick or rod – la vara), conditions had calmed down enough to explore another anchorage on the northeast side of the Isla Parida.  The swells were still throwing some significant spray up from some of the many rocky outcrops along our route but once we rounded the west end of Isla Gamez (presumably someone’s name) we found that it was fairly settled on the northwest side of this little island so on midday Tuesday (May 25^th) we anchored just off a very attractive sandy beach.

We had originally thought that Vahana may have headed to this area after leaving us at Las Secas but we had learned on the single-side-band network that they had carried on further west to spend a night on the east (Panama) side of Punta Burica on the mainland.  They made their final, rough passage into Golfo Dulce on Sunday, anchoring for that night near Puerto Jimenez and then thankfully checked-in at Golfito on Monday only to learn that the ship picking up Vahana was going to be at least a week late.

We had been listening to the morning cruiser net (9am in Panama) on the SSB partly to find out how Slip Away was doing (they got to the Galapagos with only a few windless days and seemed to be very happy there) and partly because Jan had talked Randall into agreeing to host the net on Sundays.  His first day as net-controller had been when we had very good reception and broadcasting at Isla Gobernadora and it was quite enjoyable.  The net-controller is provided with a simple script (emergency traffic first, then boats underway, general notices, and general check-ins) and their main role is to facilitate communications so that people do not all try to talk at once and to help arrange relays when one boat cannot hear another but an intermediate boat can hear both.  We had not checked-in very often except when we wanted to communicate with a particular boat (such as Slip Away, Joss, or Vahana) but we knew that the network is particularly important for boats underway on the longer passages such as going to the Galapagos (other networks are organized beyond there).  So being a good sport, Randall had agreed to host the network one day a week, especially as Jan was soon going to be out of useful range and would no longer be available as a net-controller.  It was a fun and interesting activity when it was easy to communicate with other boats as had also occurred at Coiba but it was much more difficult and consequently less satisfying for everyone during the stormy conditions when we have been at the south of Isla Parida.  Still, we had been glad to hear that Vahana had made it to Golfito despite the rough seas.

The beaches on Isla Parida that we could see from our Isla Gamez anchorage each seemed to have a large house or huts and boats related to small resorts so they did not look particularly welcoming.  The little beach on Isla Gamez, however, was very attractive so soon after lunch we rode ashore in the dinghy and explored.  There was a trail along the south side of the island to the east end which provided some spectacular views of narrow little coves worn out of the cliffs and of the general surroundings.  There were few shells on the beach but there were plentiful coconuts and a conveniently placed, sharpened stick stood waiting for the next person to rip open the husk of a coconut, an activity that entertained Randall for a while.  There was also a splendid mango tree that produced a prodigious number of delicious tiny mangoes (about the size of a large chicken egg) which were in various stages of ripening.  We helped ourselves to a small bag-full of fallen fruit and left a few for other people and animals to enjoy. 

While walking on the trail we had found a detour that lead to a rather uninspiring dead-end surrounded by thick vegetation.  Unexpectedly there was a small folding beach-chair hanging from a tree limb just overhead and curiously most of the seat was neatly cut out.  While we puzzled over these finds, we had to avoid stepping into several deep, leaf-filled pits whose steep sides and rectangular shape suggested human (spade) action rather than animal digging.  Finally, the clues all fell into place and we realized that we had found the impressively well-kept and clean latrine site for day-trip visitors to the island.

Just after we had anchored, a large party barge with the name Pescado Panama (Panama fishing) had chugged across from the mainland towards us and had anchored a few hundred yards off-shore of us.  It appeared to have several air-conditioned cabins along with several kayaks and a small sport-fishing boat but we could only see one person on board and no fishing tackle so it all seemed a bit odd unless everyone else was taking a nap.  Not long after we returned from our island exploration, however, the mystery was resolved as two mid-sized sport-fishing boats well equipped with fishing gear pulled up close to the beach and disgorged half a dozen cheerful guys who were obviously ready to swim and drink beer after a day of fishing.  Later, the crew member on each boat picked the fishermen up and took them over to the Pescado Panama where they presumably ate and slept in some comfort.  Most considerately, by the time it got dark they re-anchored a bit further away so that the guys could enjoy their evening activities at full volume without causing too much disturbance.

At the same time that the fishers appeared, a huge catamaran also arrived and anchored very snugly between us and the beach so that their eight passengers could also enjoy swimming over to the island and making the same explorations and collections that we had made of coconuts and (few remaining) mangoes.  The catamaran had several crew members and large numbers of scuba tanks so we assume that it was on a diving cruise that was taking an afternoon break.  The water was so murky around Isla Gamez that there was no point in trying to snorkel or dive there.  After our visit ashore, we had cruised around the island in the dinghy and found that the water around the rocks to the east, which are supposed to provide good snorkeling, was much to turbid to see anything so we wondered how far field this group had had to go to find some good diving.

Although catamarans typically have a shallow draft this one was so close to the beach that we wondered whether it would be high and dry at low tide but once the passengers were all back aboard they too re-anchored further away and left us to enjoy a peaceful night in our popular haven.  And popular it continued to be.  The next morning I swam ashore to wander around the beach at low tide and to collect a few more mangoes that had fallen during the fresh breezes that night.  I also spend an hour or so cleaning Tregoning’s waterline during which time a lancha arrived from the mainland and unloaded 10 people, a very lively Labrador puppy, and several ice-chests of food and drinks.  I felt a bit sorry that they would not find a lot of mangoes on the sand but they seemed set to have a good day there anyway.  They were busy swimming, eating, and exploring by midday when we hoisted our anchor and set off for Costa Rica.

Although our anchor stayed solidly in place at Las Secas, despite some fresh breezes, the water clarity was terrible at our anchorage and it was too rough to consider visiting the snorkel and dive sites that are supposed to be very good around Isla Pargo, the southern island of the group.  So after one rather rolly night and a brief visit to the beach near our anchorage we decided to move on.

With no wind early on Saturday (May 22^nd), we set off to motor the 20 miles northwest to Isla Parida.  About half way through our journey the wind picked up sufficiently to use the jib to assist the motor but as we approached our destination the conditions quickly changed to 20-25 knot winds and 6 to 8 ft swells that were occasionally 10 to 13 ft high.  These conditions are fine in open water but our approach to the anchorage at Ensenada del Varadero was surrounded by tiny, steep-sided islets and partially hidden rocks so the low, grey clouds, the waves crashing ashore, and the almost-howling wind made everything seem rather forbidding. 

Our intended anchorage was in a bay on the south end of Isla Parida that was somewhat protected from the swells by the adjacent Isla Paridita but the rough seas blowing in from the southwest came straight along the channel to the west of Paridita and curved around the corner in to the bay.  The beaches surrounding the bay sloped very gently so it was too shallow to tuck-in as close to the shore as we had hoped   With unsettled weather forecast for a few days we started to back-track out of the cove, thinking that we might try another anchorage further north on the island.  But watching the walls of spray exploding off the exposed islets and rocks and periodically catching glimpses of seething white-water eddying around submerged rocks when the water level dropped prior to the arrival of a big wave, we soon realized that having never been here before, in the wild sea and low tide conditions it was too risky for us to try to navigate the narrow channels between the islets and rocks and it would be a tough slog to go all the way around the outside of them. 

While taking a chance on trusting the charts to show all the hazards in such a situation might look feasible, one always has to consider what would happen if the engine stopped at a critical point in the passage.  There might not be time to set sails enough to steer clear of breaking waves and rocks and it would be not only dangerous but also an ignominious to end our adventures in such a careless manner.

So we returned to Ensenada del Varadero and anchored with as much protection as we could manage.  I am not quite sure why an anchored boat always wants to lie side-on to the swell but that is exactly what Tregoning did and thus our first night was very rolly.  With the weather forecasts predicting unsettled weather for several more days it seemed likely that we would stay put until the swells calmed down a bit before making our overnight passage to Golfito   So the next day we used the dinghy to set another anchor on a long line off the stern and closer to shore.  This kept Tregoning pointed into the swell and although the boat still moved in the waves, the up and down rocking of bow and stern (pitching) was much more comfortable and safer (items are less likely to be thrown across the cabin) than the side-to-side rolling. 

The downsides of setting a stern anchor are the effort to put it out and bring it back in (made much easier using the dinghy) and that the boat cannot turn into the wind or current.  The latter point can be an issue if there are other boats nearby that are only using one anchor and so rotate with wind and current but we were very much alone in this anchorage.  If the wind or current are strong (for example like our 45 knot squall at Isla Perdro Gonzales) then this can put a lot of strain on one or both of the anchors or it can make the boat roll from side-wind-generated waves.  Luckily, there seemed to be little current in this bay and although we received winds from most directions during our stay, none were so strong as to cause problems.  In fact, it was so much more comfortable on the boat without being rolled by the swell that we inevitably wondered why we had not bothered to set a stern anchor before.

It did continue to be windy, rough, and rainy for a couple more days and with all the wave action, and water flooding out of the rivers to our north on the mainland, the water in our anchorage was spectacularly turbid (one could not even see the bottom of the rudder).  One afternoon we cruised around the bay but there seemed to be huts or small houses and signs (that we could not quite read from the dinghy) on each beach that we approached.  We had seen one family walk across a beach several times and one small lancha dropping a couple of people off at another house but we were not quite sure if these were permanent residences or vacation cabins. Given the waves that would make landing on the beaches quite lively, there did not seem to be any particular need to go ashore so we decided to leave our terrestrial neighbors in peace and we waited for the weather to improve.

After our fascinating and energetic morning snorkel at the northwest corner of Isla Brincanco on Friday (May 21^st), we motored about 15 nm northwest into a light breeze to Las Islas Secas.  As we approached the main island, Isla Cavada, we joined a 45ft sailboat, Vahana that had come from the direction of Isla Coiba.  We talked to Judith and Harry on the VHF and discussed the various anchorages shown on the east side of the island.  They aimed straight for the northern bay while we decided to explore a bay further south that looked as though it would be more protected from the southerly swells.  It probably would have been but any good positions for anchoring there has been effectively blocked by some strategically placed mooring balls from the adjacent eco-resort.

The whole island is privately owned by the resort which consists of several luxury tents (handsome round yurts with many shaded windows) scattered in attractive locations on the south end of the island.  We suspect that the mooring balls (clearly marked as belonging to the resort) were intended to keep boats from anchoring too close to the accommodation and the private dock.   Since the guests were paying $300-$600 a night to enjoy a remote island get-away, perhaps keeping potentially rowdy cruisers further away was not a bad strategy.  Not that we could detect the presence of any guests in the resort while we were there.

Once we gave up on the southern anchorage we tried some of the other sites that the cruising guides indicated but found that they were either too steep (with shallow-enough water too close to too-shallow water) or seemed to have very poor holding with just a thin layer of sand over rock.  Both Mike and Dede and Jan and Rich had warned us that anchors often drag at these islands so we wanted to find a place where the anchor seemed firmly set.  Finally, we ended up at a spot a few hundred yards from Vahana and while it was not quite as protected from the swell as we had hoped, the anchor seemed to dig into the sand very well.

We were invited over to Vahana for the evening and Judith and Harry were the first cruisers we had shared an anchorage with since Las Perlas.  This delightful Canadian couple was on their way to Golfito where their boat was to be picked up on a ship for transportation back to Vancouver after 18 half-years of sailing around the world (returning to Canada for six months each year).  They had been struck by lightning during their overnight passage around the Azuero Peninsula a couple of nights before, knocking out some but not all of their electronic equipment so we were happy to share weather forecasts with them and they were happy to be near their destination.  It was fascinating to hear about their adventures around the world and it got us excited again about our long term plans.  While they were looking forward to finishing this particular part of the voyage, there was no doubt that they had some mixed feelings about the idea of finishing their cruising life.  After that much time and seeing so much of the world, unless something forces you to stop, it cannot be very easy to let it all go.

(Note: the Google map does not show the whole Island of Brincanco, perhaps because there is a cloud in the satellite photo.)

When we had asked the Coiba Park Ranger to suggest some good snorkeling sites other than Granito de Oro, he mentioned Isla Uva, which is one of the Islas Contreras, about 15 miles northwest of Coiba but still within the Park.  So late on Wednesday morning (May 18^th) we sailed away from the Bahía Machete anchorage and had a marvelous sail with a 10 knot breeze and sunny skies to the Contreras.  Given the predicted stormy weather with westerly winds we decided that the anchorage at the slightly more northern Isla Brincanco looked more protected than Isla Uva.  So giving the northwest point of the island a wide berth, we slowly nosed our way into the deep, north-facing bay small until we reached an area far into the southwest corner where the sand was shallow enough to anchor. 

This site was fabulous with no waves, little wind, the clearest water such that we could see anything on the bottom up to 50 ft deep, and so close to the steep, forest-covered shore that we could see and hear birds in the trees.  The next morning, we started snorkeling around the bay from Tregoning towing the dinghy and explored a small beach made up of tiny dark pebbles.  During this part of our shoreline foray we saw several new species of fish including several types of snapper (blue and gold snapper and yellow snapper), barred pargo, Pacific mutton hamlet, Pacific flag-fin mojarra, wounded wrasse, and a good-sized, free-swimming moray eel (possibly a rather reddish-brown individual of the Panamic green moray species).  It appeared, swimming rather awkwardly in the open water, while I was closely studying a couple of mutton hamlets under a fallen tree and surprised me enough to cause me to emit a loud squawk underwater that certainly got Randall’s attention.  

But it was not until we were quite a long way from Tregoning that we found the most glorious patch of coral reef off a small, otherwise innocuous-looking, point of land.  The corals were diverse and colorful and the area was teeming with fish, just like the nature films from the Great Barrier Reef.  We floated there for ages just watching the fascinating behaviors and beauty of the fish and corals.  It was hard to pull ourselves away from the show but eventually lunch loudly called to us.

Since it was likely that we would try to return there another time, Randall suggested that we name the latter reef “Parklands” both in recognition of being in the Coiba National Park but also because we were in the middle of watching a series of six DVDs with 2-hour episodes of the 2009 Ken Burns USA film, The National Parks; America’s Best Idea.  We were thoroughly enjoying this spectacular series which was given to us by Randall’s sister, Martha, for Christmas and had been saved to watch at such an appropriate time.

During the afternoon we noticed a couple of small, local fishing boats hang around the point of the island just to the north of us so we decided that it might we worth exploring later on.  We also noticed a cruising sailboat that we thought might come to join us but it passed by, possibly on its way to Las Islas Secas, further to the northwest.  Given the unsettled weather that was predicted we planned to stay in our sheltered bay for a couple more nights.

The next day it rained heavily for hours allowing us to add 110 gallons of rainwater to our water tanks (total capacity 215 gal).  When it was over, we noticed that a tree had toppled over onto the beach we had visited the previous day so we set off in the dinghy for a closer look.  We found numerous huge bromeliads and orchids that had been flung out onto the sand and into the water.  We speculated that a plant nursery in Florida would charge a lot of money for such robust specimens.  Judging by the several tree trunks we had snorkeled around along the shoreline, this sort of collapse on such steep shores is not uncommon.

Before returning to Tregoning we went over to the narrow peninsula and small island on the north end of our anchorage and peered down into the water to see if it would be worth snorkeling the next day.  It looked as though there was plenty of coral but it might be a bit wild if there were any large waves from the west wrapping around the end.  Things seemed a bit calmer the next morning so we drifted in the current towing the dinghy around the headland.  We did this twice because it was difficult to stop and look at anything on the first pass and it was another wonderful reef with numerous types and colors of coral dropping-off steeply into deep water.   There was a spectacular collection of fish, some of which we had not seen before, such as the goldrimmed (or white-cheeked) surgeonfish, which are usually found in is such high energy habitats.  It was such an impressive site with its walls of rock and coral that it was one of the few places that I have regretted not having scuba gear.  Of course, if we were scuba diving we would probably have to invest in an underwater camera to show off all these fish and corals that we are seeing and suddenly you find that all this expensive equipment is filling up the boat.  We had considered buying a mid-price-range underwater camera but it is not easy to take good pictures of fish when just snorkeling and the effort can quickly diminish the joy of just looking and enjoying the surroundings.  As it is, we keep our memories and brains exercised by trying to remember and distinguish the appearances of the different fish so that we can try to identify them from our books when we get back on the boat.  It is not always easy when there are so many dazzling species to see but as biologists we enjoy the effort while still appreciating the magnificence of what is around us.  As we returned to Tregoning, we decided to make a definite plan to visit Brincanco again and try to snorkel the headland at slack tide.

During the second night we were anchored at Granito de Oro there was a bit of rain and it was quite windy, up to 20 to 25 knots.  The next morning as I cleared space on the fore deck to do some skipping (“jump-rope” in the USA – since the exercise bike died, it is a fairly easy form of aerobic exercise that I can do when the dinghy is not on the deck) I noticed a beautiful blue and silver dead fish lying on top of a coiled line.  With its huge, spotted, wing-like pectoral fins, it was a spotted flying fish, perhaps 6 inches long, that had presumably tried to fly during the windy period and was carried up onto Tregoning’s deck which is at least 6 ft above the water.  Sadly, we could tell that it was a female because where she had presumably struggled to get off the pile of rope, hoping to flip back into the water, there were several blobs of small, yellow eggs.  We had noticed quite a large number of flying fish shooting off to the left or right as we had cruised along in the dinghy.  Expiring in panic on our deck seemed a rather ignominious end for a fish that would have been so startlingly graceful when it launched itself to skim out of harm’s way above the water.

After two nights and three excellent snorkels near Granito de Oro we moved for a night to Bahía Machete just to the north of the Park Headquarters on Coiba.   The next morning we snorkeled on a flat coral reef in the middle of the bay and then towed the dinghy around the rocky shoreline towards the Park Headquarters.  There was some coral and a reasonable number and variety of fish but the water was not as clear as at Granito de Oro and there were none of the dramatic drop-offs into deeper water.  Still, we felt we had already got our money’s worth and knew that most snorkel sites would pale in comparison to Granito de Oro.  We would undoubtedly return to Coiba another time and explore the extensive coral reefs at Bahía Damas (which the Park Ranger said was acceptable as long as we anchored well away from the coral) so we decided that we would leave Coiba the next day and explore another part of the National Park.

Being a national park it is not surprising that there are entrance- and anchoring-fees associated with Coiba and the surrounding islands.  Some cruisers are reluctant to pay such fees on principle feeling, I suppose, that if they get no services in return why should staying at this place be different from other free anchorages.  Others are put off by the high price of these fees and we had heard widely differing accounts of how much one might be expected to pay.  Unless you anchor near or go to the park headquarters, the likelihood of being visited by a ranger asking for fee payment is relatively low in most of the anchorages, so some cruisers seem to regard visiting the islands as a bit of a gamble, sometime you will have to pay, sometimes you will not.

Once we decided to leave Isla Jicaron and go to the northeast part of Isla Coiba, we knew that we would be very likely to see a park ranger.   But that was all right because we had already decided to visit the park headquarters and pay for our visit anyway.  We would pay entrance- and camping-fees in national parks on land without question so we did not think that it should be different here, especially as the fees are probably important contributions to paying for the park’s protection.  Still, since we did not know exactly how much we would be charged we were a bit concerned not to stay too many nights before we found out.  Since our first two anchorages had not been as interesting as we had hoped we were also ready to get some guidance from the park rangers about the best places to snorkel.

We left Isla Jicaron on Saturday morning (May 15^th) and were able to sail in a good breeze for most of the rest of our anti-clockwise circumnavigation of Coiba.  We had debated about stopping in Bahía Damas on the SE side of the island where a large coral reef is described in our books.   However, one of the charts indicated that area was reserved for scientific research and permission was needed to anchor near there so we decided that we would ask the rangers about that for future reference.  As we passed the north end of that bay, we could see the rather depressing remains of the main prison camp, which despite its beach-side location could certainly not be confused with a Butlins (a chain of British holiday camps).

Randall had suggested stopping on the northeast side of Coiba near the tiny islet of Granito de Oro where our cruising guide suggested there was “absolutely amazing snorkeling”.  Although the anchorage just north of the islet seemed rather exposed, the weather stayed calm and we discovered that the snorkeling around the islet was, well, absolutely amazing. 

With a white-sand beach, black rocks, and a few small trees the islet itself was very cute and even where we had anchored in deeper water (40ft -12m deep to keep away from any coral) the water clarity was good enough to just make out the sandy bottom.  So once anchored we quickly launched the dinghy and motored into the islet to go snorkeling.  But just as we were dropping the dinghy anchor on the sand inside the reef, a park boat appeared with two rangers and two young assistants and they came over to see us.  They were very friendly and were happy when we said that we would stop at the office the next day to pay our fees.  We were told it would cost $20 per person for the entrance fee and $30 per night to anchor so that was not too bad.  They wished us well with our snorkeling, saying that it was very good there and headed back north to their office.

Randall waded ashore to read the welcome sign and park rules for the islet.  The only unexpected one was the suggestion to wear sufficient clothing for sun protection or use non-oil-based sunscreens to help protect the coral.  Luckily we had some of those.  There was even an aerial photograph of the islet with various snorkeling routes marked so this was clearly a popular destination.  And then we found out why.

It was such a joy to be in the clearest water we had seen in the Pacific.  As soon as we approached the flat coral reef just off the beach we started to see species of fish that were new to us including clown razorfish, Pacific razor fish, Mexican goatfish, yellow-fin mojarra, Pacific creolefish, reef hawkfish ,and the vivid Guineafowl or golden puffer.  This fish can be black with white spots like a Guineafowl or in its golden phase is a very bright yellow that is visible from a long distance (being highly toxic it can afford to be conspicuous).   Then as we rounded the rocky north end of the islet there was more variety of corals and many species of fish including our old friends the parrotfish, flag cabrillas, sergeant majors, giant damselfish, king angelfish, barberfish, and many others.  But the most amazing new discovery for us were the extraordinary Moorish Idols which look a bit like a butterfly fish but are actually have a whole family of their own.  They paid very little attention to us so we could get quite close and examine their bold and complex markings (look up a picture on the internet…they are wild!)  I am now intrigued to see the animated film “Finding Nemo” again to see if there is one represented in it because I am sure that I saw one there before but I did not believe that it was based on a real fish.

As we finished our short, late-afternoon snorkel we were passed by a small white-tipped reef shark which kept a respectful distance from us.  Other than a nurse shark that we saw at Isla Bayoneta in Las Perlas, this is the first shark we have seen snorkeling in the Pacific but this has likely been a function of poor water clarity and just not seeing the sharks rather than not having been around them before.  We both agreed that we like clear water and being able to see our snorkeling companions much better.

In considerably higher spirits, we settled down for the evening and watched a small cruise-ship, The Pacific Explorer (perhaps up to 150 passengers) as it came around from near the park headquarters to anchor just south of our islet.  We were not sorry to have their company overnight and as it worked out they took over the islet with snorkeling, kayaks, and beach activities the next morning while we went inland so we did not interfere with each others’ activities.

When we visited the Park Headquarters on the main island we were greeted by the ranger who had talked to us the previous afternoon and he was very friendly and helpful.  According to our boat length, the anchoring fees could have been $60 a night (which would have been a bit steep) but we think we got the lower rate of $30 because we were staying for multiple nights (our Spanish could keep up with the fee outcome but not the whole explanation).  We looked around the small Visitors’ Center which had interesting descriptions of the islands’ and park’s histories and then, we walked along a couple of trails including a steep one up the hill (maybe 600ft, 200m high) overlooking the bay and the Park Headquarters.  Although we did not see the famous scarlet macaws or king vultures that survive on Coiba, just as we were setting off on the trails we did get close looks at some large iguanas, a bare throated tiger-heron (which obligingly stretched it neck and wings for us to get an excellent view), a white-throated capuchin monkey, an endemic Coiba Howler monkey, and an endemic Coiba agouti.

By the time we returned to Tregoning the Pacific Explorer was getting ready to leave so in the late afternoon we had a short snorkel on the southwest side of the islet.  Although it had been gloriously sunny during our hikes (which fortunately were mostly under tree canopies) the afternoon had become cloudy but with such clear water even the absence of direct sunlight did not spoil our explorations.  We saw at least one turtle (probably a hawksbill) on this snorkel and had seen several coming to the water’s surface to breath while we were on Tregoning.

The following morning we set off for our third and final snorkel at Granito de Oro and for this we planned no less than a circumsnorkel off the whole islet and associated rocks.  Actually, we had no choice about the latter because being low tide the links between all the outlying rocks and the main islet were exposed so it was quite a long swim.  Still, the visibility remained spectacular and the fish where plentiful and patient with our presence.  We saw several white-tipped reef sharks cruising around the edge of the deeper water and Randall saw one other species that looked bigger and less streamlined, perhaps a bull shark.  Although they kept our attention as we swam along the steeper sections of reef that dropped off into deeper water, these individual sharks are presumably very used to people in this location and, much to our relief, they showed no threatening behavior.  But we did make a mental note to avoid snorkeling at dawn and dusk when they are more likely to be feeding…there are limits to how close we wish to encounter the wildlife.

On Friday morning (May 14^th) we left Ensenada Hermosa in search of better snorkeling conditions.  With a light headwind we motored 16 nm south along the rugged and attractive southwest coast of Isla Coiba arriving in the early afternoon at the eastern end of the north shore of Isla Jicaron (3 nm south of Coiba).  We were encouraged by finding the boat “Lost Island Explorer” in the anchorage and seeing a couple of small boat-loads of divers/snorkelers return to it for lunch.

However, the water visibility was poor all around the anchorage so we quickly gave up our attempt to snorkel on the small coral reefs that we could see near shore.  There is supposed to be very good diving in clear water at the south end of this island so that is probably where the others had been but the swells were enough to discourage us from exploring that far in the dinghy without knowing that we would find something better.  We went over to see if we could ask anyone on “Lost Island Explorer” for suggestions of where to go but apparently everyone had gone out fishing (or were sleeping) so we were none the wiser.

Like Isla Jicaron is uninhabited and it was again reassuring to hear the howler monkeys and know that this was a relatively undisturbed, wild place.  But with large waves deterring us from trying to land the dinghy on the steep beaches we were now starting to think that we needed to go to the Park Headquarters to find out what we could see in the water or on land that would make our visit worthwhile.  It seemed a bit harsh to say that we were rather disappointed with our experience of Parque Nacional Coiba but we felt sure that there had to be something more that we were missing.

It is not possible to overstate how pleasant it was at Bahía Honda where we were so well protected from the Pacific swells and wind-generated waves.  The entrance to the bay is a break in the shoreline that actually faces west, although it is on the south side of the bay.  Along with the scattering of islands at various directions around the entrance, this reduces the influence of the swells from the south/southwest.  With our anchorage tucked in the northwest corner of the bay there was almost no wave action there at all.  All sides of the bay are steep and densely forested so when close to shore there is good wind protection from several directions. 

There are gaps in the forest cover where small-scale farmers like Señor Domingo have slashed down the vegetation, burned the plots, and planted fruits and vegetables.  Some of these plots are on astonishingly steep hill-sides, a testament to back-breaking work but also at risk of serious soil erosion if not kept covered in some sort of vegetation.  Although the overall impression of the landscape is much more natural that in more developed agricultural or residential areas or where one sees large, searing, clear-cuts as we had noticed along the south east side of the Azuero Peninsula, one has to wonder how sustainable these particular slash and burn practices will be for future generations.  Although there are several nature reserves on the Azuero Peninsula, the best conserved gem in the area is Isla Coiba, a status that has been internationally recognized in its status as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and this is where we headed next.

The Parque Nacional Coiba includes the biggest island in Central America (25 nautical miles north to south), many smaller, surrounding islands, and a large area of marine habitat in between.  The main island Coiba was inhabited by Chiriquí people from about 500 BC.   After the Spanish arrived it became a popular place for English pirate and raider ships to reprovision and re-outfit.  The main reason for lack of modern development or overexploitation on the island was that in 1919 it became a penal colony with at least 20 small prison camp areas and associated small-scale farming (the prisoners were expected to feed themselves and produce enough to sent to support prisons on the mainland).  It is said that the prison guards locked themselves in at night to be protected from the dangerous and free-roaming prisoners who were principally deterred from escaping by strong currents and sharks.  The penal colony was only closed down in 2005 so one of our older cruising guides from 1995 cheerfully describes the anchorage near the National Park headquarters but then warns “it is not considered safe to anchor or visit places outside the Park Office area without a guard or ranger in company”.  There are probably some feral cows, pigs, and dogs left over from the camps but one certainly hopes that no prisoners were left behind.

We set off for Isla Coiba on Thursday morning (May 13^th) after Olivia visited us to say “Hasta luego” and kindly give us some more plantains.  As we left the bay we saw a lot of bird activity with a large flock of black terns and (the slightly larger) brown noddies busily feeding at the water surface.  This made Randall anxious to get his fishing lines in the water but not knowing the park rules about fishing, we pulled them back in as we passed Isla Canal de Afuera which is north of Coiba but within the national park. With little wind we motored 25 nm southwest to Ensenada Hermosa, a cove on the west side of Coiba which was exposed to the northwest but had a good sandy area in which to anchor close to shore and near the mouth of a small stream.  The steep hillsides looked delightfully undisturbed and we were pleased to hear howler monkeys quite close to us.

We saw a small, mast-less, sail boat washed ashore in the north part of the cove but there were no signs of the prison camp that had been there.  This particular camp was gruesomely infamous because prisoners from it had swam out to an unfortunate cruising boat that anchored in the cove, killed one (or both depending on the account) of the sailors, and commandeered the yacht to escape to the mainland.  Although we had nothing to worry about on this account, the swell was sufficient to deter us from trying to go ashore in the dinghy.  Also the water was not very clear so there was no point in trying to go snorkeling and we quickly decided that as pretty as the surrounding hillsides were, one night would be enough and we would seek calmer, clearer waters the next day.