Left To Our Own Devices

The Gloriamaris motored away, pausing only briefly mid-channel to repair a water pump on the spot. The fun never ends. We, on the other hand, had an uneventful passage to the south side of Michael Rock. 

It looks harder than it was.

Our anchor began by bouncing off the turtle grass, but this no longer phased us. We set it hard after a second attempt, and set about figuring out how we were going to survive on our own for 3 days.

Somehow, I had faith we would pull through.

We spent most of these days reading, swimming, napping, and generally appreciating not being in Wisconsin for winter.

We're the best at selfies.

We had heard great things about Bo Bush's Island House, a hotel/restaurant/bar on the north side of Michael Rock, and the only civilization for miles around. We went straight to the right place, but unfortunately our Spanish was still a bit lacking. A little girl greeted us at the dock, and an older woman leaned out of a window from the boat house upstairs.  We thought we were asking if this was Bo Bush's place. They thought we were asking if Bo Bush himself was there. Bo was not there, of course, and so we went away with the impression that the real Bo's was further down the shore.  We tried every dock all the way along the shore, only to have everyone point to the first place we went to. Bryna eventually became discouraged, and wanted to head back to the boat. I dropped her off, went back to our first attempt, and immediately met with Bo's English-speaking nephew and daughter. We quickly cleared up the confusion, and I asked them to expect us for dinner the following night. One thing we learned in isolated spots like Guanaja is that they aren't used to walk-ins and it's better to have 24-hour reservations even if you'll be the only ones there!

We met with Bo, who knows every dive site on the island like the back of his hand, and enjoyed the wonderful fresh seafood dinner made by his wife. If you want an absolutely isolated fishing and diving holiday in a tropical paradise, Bo Bush's Island House should be at the top of your list. And Bo Bush's is truly isolated, since they have no internet or cell phone service. We had been several days without a weather forecast, and needed to know when the anticipated norther was going to roll in. Bo's nephew told us we would have to head all the way up to the town of Mangrove Bight, or down to the Canal exit to get internet service.

Either way, a long dinghy ride.

Never the less, we needed a weather forecast. We packed the laptop into a dry bag and headed down to the Canal exit. We sighted the cell towers and set up our very own dinghy internet cafe in the middle of Soldado bay.

The forecast was good for the next day, but the norther was set to blow in after that. We put together our plan for snugging down in El Bight, and set off the next day.

It would be fair to say we had a rough start. We had not yet been through the Soldado Channel, but it was much closer to our anchorage than Michael Rock channel. We figured we could find it easily enough, even at 9:00 am.

Looks easy, right?

Yeah, not so much.

What followed was a tense 45 minutes of spinning in circles trying not to destroy vast sections of pristine reef.  A simple check of Google Earth could have solved the whole problem, but of course we were in the blessed land of zero internet signal.  I've never wanted a helicopter camera drone more in my life. All we needed to do was pass over a saddle in the reef at 10 feet of depth.  We would have been clear in the channel and on our way, but with no satellite view available all we could see at 9:00 am was a horseshoe-shaped reef of death. So we bravely turned tail and ran, following our old track out of the Michael Rock channel and vowing revenge on the Soldado Channel for soundly defeating us.

We went the south way around Guanaja in order to see the famous red cliffs and their deserted beaches. After the morning's episode, we reluctantly decided against working our way through the reefs to anchor off an empty beach.  We decided to make it back to El Bight in plenty of time to tuck in for the norther. On the way in, I took a few photos of the more interesting architectural sites in the harbor.

#Bondvillainmassing

Just like Tatooine, except for the water and hills and trees.

We tucked into El Bight, and I decided the anchor was set fine and I didn't need to dive through a jellyfish swarm to check it. Rumors had been told of a screen enclosure for the cockpit, hidden somewhere in the cavernous depths of the v-berth.  This became our quest for the afternoon, and soon the enclosure had been found and set up. We had a screen porch addition to our 200-SF apartment! We would be riding out the norther in style.

The next day, we finally  decided to check out Manati.  A beautiful setting and a laid-back atmosphere made us feel right at home. Klaus and Annette own the place, and have since they emigrated from Germany 20 years ago.  We could not have asked to meet two more kind and welcoming people. Also, they stock German beer and cook wonderful German food.  I strongly considered staying at Manati forever.

We met the local guys Brian and Gar, who had been at anchor in El Bight for 18 and 12 years respectively. It made us feel even more at home to know we had a Gar nearby to tell us fantastical stories.

The whole anchorage was gathered in Manati one evening, including the Russians. It turned out they spoke quite good English, and we soon began to talk with them. They had been cruising for the better part of two years, and planned to return to Russia via the northern route around Canada. They even suggested we follow them, since they were going to try their fortunes on the gold river. Apparently there's a river in the middle of northeast Siberia 2,000 miles from civilization where gold nuggets sit on the banks and wash down the stream. They told us a story of a woman who had amassed $25 million worth of gold over 6 months, only to have it stolen on her way back to civilization.  Land is also apparently free for the asking out on this wild frontier.  We replied that if we ever felt like abandoning our careers in order to live the dream of the Wild West in Russia, we would definitely track them down.

Over the next few days, we would work on boat projects for the day, head in to Manati during the sunset lull, and ride out the strong winds overnight. This gave Bryna plenty of time to make me a new wedding ring. The Parents had originally crafted rings out of palm nuts for our Honduran Wedding last July, and Bryna's is still in great shape.  Mine lasted quite a while, but broke while I was jumping down into the dinghy back in the Rio.  It's the same old story; I can't have nice things. Anyway, the days of driving grey murk gave Bryna the perfect opportunity to fashion a new custom ring.

The norther relented for a gorgeous afternoon, and we decided to go for a hike on the main island. Klaus showed us a trail map, gave us a few basic directions, and we were off! We took a wrong turn almost immediately, trespassed a few times, but eventually wound up on the right track. As we passed by a small house next to the trail, a pretty little dog came bounding out toward us. We were prepared to greet her and go on our merry way, but she immediately took the lead and began guiding us up the trail.  We kept waiting for her to be sure we were on track and head back home, but she never turned. We soon realized we had a guide dog for the whole hike!

We talked the dog into taking this photo.

Leap at anchor, too far away to reach if we see anything wrong.

We had a wonderful 6-mile hike through jungles and pine forests, complete with stunning hill-top views.  With our daily Rent-A-Dog leading the way, we reveled in being off the boat and really covering some ground on foot for the first time in weeks.

Rent-A-Dog followed us all the way back to Manati, seemingly in the mood for more adventures. Annette saw her and immediately exclaimed "Simba! Your mother must be so worried!" Apparently Rent-A-Dog's real name was Simba, and she belonged to an old lady who took excellent care of her, but couldn't go on long strenuous walks. Simba apparently saw us as her opportunity to get some real exercise, and took us on a hike. All was sorted out in time, and we headed back to Leap to swing in the hammock chair and recuperate.

We had hoped to head back to Roatan the next day, but the norther set in fresh and pinned us down once more. Our friends the Kaufmans were coming to Roatan to visit us soon, and we wanted to make it back in time to scope out the ocean-front house they were renting for the week. The forecast, however, was bleak.  Thanks to the weather, we would have to rush back at the earliest opportunity, and even then we would only have a day to prepare for their arrival.

The next day was another of driving grey murk.  Bryna checked over the engine and the boat systems while I sat at the nav station and worked on some of the early blog entries, uploading photos and videos, that sort of thing. Normally, the solar panel over the davits can run the refrigerator and keep the batteries topped up.  On this day, there was no sun. By the time we checked the batteries, it was too late. There wasn't enough juice to start the engine. We were dead in the water.

Our anchor had held for the past several days with no problem, but we did not want to rely on it entirely. After all, prior success is no guarantee of future performance. If we had experienced a 40-knot gust during the night, our anchor might pluck itself and we would have no engine to keep us off the reef. As a stopgap solution, we lashed the dinghy tight to the side of Leap.  The dinghy's 15hp motor is not powerful enough to either push or pull Leap, but is powerful enough to provide some headway when lashed to the side. We set this up as a last-ditch solution and turned off all the electronics and the refrigeration to guarantee zero battery drain overnight. I went in to Manati to see if they had a line on a battery charger. Unfortunately I was told that neither they nor anyone they knew on the island had a battery charger. We simply had to wait for the morning and pray for light wind and a clear sky.

The next day dawned bright and clear. By 10:00 am, the solar panel had done its work and the batteries had recovered enough charge to attempt an engine start.  We primed the manual fuel pump, set the throttle high and tried the starter. Leap fired up like nothing had ever been wrong, and we were in business.

We needed diesel and water to make the trip back to French Harbor, Roatan, so we stopped by the gas dock on Bonacca. The dock is actually a small separate island near the town, and were able to pull Leap straight up to the dock.  By the time we were full of diesel and water, it was 1:30 pm.  Time and distance take on new meanings on a sailboat. We had to be in our next overnight anchorage before sunset, which was a scant 4 hours distant. This wasn't anywhere near enough time to cover the 40 miles to French Harbor. We checked the guide books, and settled on Port Royal, a nice protected harbor on the east side of Roatan.

Arriving just in time.

We made it into Port Royal during the last rays of sunset, and found our anchoring spot in the twilight. Port Royal, Roatan is actually named after Port Royal, Jamaica.  Apparently Henry Morgan was kicked out of Jamaica, relocated to Roatan, and set up shop in a brand new port of the same name. Unfortunately, we weren't there to appreciate the history or go on a nighttime ghost tour (they probably don't have those on an island fort that sees literally dozens of visitors a year). We spent a relatively relaxing night, and woke up in the morning ready to head to Roatan.  

Our guidebook specifically recommended Mango Creek Lodge in Port Royal, so we hailed them on the radio and asked about breakfast. We were definitely breaking the 24-hour courtesy notice rule, but figured we'd give it a try. It turned out they were able to accommodate a walk-in, and we headed over to the other side of the harbor. We were welcome to use their moorings while we had breakfast, but these moorings were in 6-7 feet of water.  Bryna didn't particularly enjoy seeing " 1 " on the depth gauge as we pulled up. 

 Never the less, we had a great breakfast. The manager was a former cruiser, very nice, and very talkative. If we end up back in Roatan some day, we will definitely be going to Mango Creek.

We had a schedule to keep for returning to French Harbor, since weather and battery troubles had put us two days off our original plan. We high-tailed it out of Port Royal, vowed we would return some day, and set sail for French Harbor.

Welcome back to Roatan

Next Time: Kaufman Carousing and the Sargasso Fiasco