Passing Time

We awoke in Livingston early in the morning, eagerly anticipating and yet dreading the passage ahead. I say we awoke, the reality is closer to a begrudging acknowledgment that the sun had risen on our nerve-wracked vigil and it was time to depart.

We carefully rafted up to the Gloriamaris, and began transferring cargo. Predictably, it then began to sprinkle. Not enough to stop work, just enough to threaten the more delicate parts. So we proceeded to relieve Leap of her burden, and she was a cargo vessel no more.

Stage 1: 55.7 nautical miles

We crossed the Livingston sand bar at high tide, and proceeded out to sea. We have both participated in several boat deliveries and long-distance races (some more interesting than others) and so we came into this passage reasonably confident in our ability to pass the time and stay safe. We knew to check the horizon for traffic every 20 minutes, and we have heard many different strategies for ways to pass the time and keep ourselves amused. We had books, headlamps, a large music collection, and practice in going full zen staring at the ocean.

What we were not prepared for was engine trouble.

By mile 35-40, Leap's engine was revving itself exponentially without us touching the throttle. We normally cruise at 2200-2400 rpm, which is good enough for 6 knots in flat seas. At this point, we were cruising at 1600 rpm and 3 knots.  We were in rough shape, and placed a radio call to The Gloriamaris and our resident mechanic. The Parents lowered the dinghy at sea, and Dad made his way over to troubleshoot. We changed the fuel filter at the cost of only three burns for Dad and one strained muscle for John. Leap fired right up, and we were back on our way.

At this point, however, the engine repair had run into late afternoon, and we would be crossing the Puerto Cortez shipping lane in twilight. Thankfully, the shipping was still hunkered down in the hours following the norther storm, and there was little traffic to speak of on The Gloriamaris AIS.

Stage 2: 64.9 nautical miles

The rest of the passage went by blissfully without incident. We spent the whole night in shifts watching for freighters, practicing our ocean zen, and sleeping immediately next to the engine. Otto the autopilot proved an essential companion for the whole of the 21-hour trip. Little else can be said of the passage, except for one realization; Guatemalan spicy-chicken-flavor ramen soup cups are not only vastly superior to their American counterparts, they are perhaps the perfect hot midnight meal for those who lack microwaves on board.

Utila entrance: exhausted

We pulled into Utila harbor around 7:00 in the morning and dropped anchor with our quarantine flag flying. Following a cat nap and a short exhalation period, we dinghied in to the Port Captain and Immigration. The Port Captain came to visit us in the Immigration Office and did our paperwork at the same time, which was convenient, but he declared that Leap had a different visa length than we did personally, which was not convenient. This is apparently a recent yet pervasive problem at the Utila office. Our visas and Leap's permit were both long enough to encompass our entire stay in Honduras, however, so we did not need to worry ourselves. Other cruisers are not so lucky. The Port Captain also came back with paperwork declaring John the captain in Honduran waters, because Central America.

None the less, we were checked in to Honduras for the next 80 days, and could legally go get breakfast.

Next time: Roatan beckons