Lluvia Dura

Lyric of the Day

You got to know when to hold em'...
...know when to fold em'...

Kenny Rodgers, The Gambler

My mother will be happy to hear that I turned around near central Columbia and, 240 ship-dodgingly bluewater miles later, am back in Playa Venao, Panama.

Columbia was a mixed bag and it foreshadowed what would come as Tu Laki and I progressed deeper into South America.  Piracy wasn't a real fear but consistent headwinds and battling currents took away what little fun there is in long distance, small-boat sailing.

Also, and more importantly, there were no waves and it turns out surfing is my newest addiction.

My sails are totally shot (think of billowing bedsheets) to the extent where Sin Fin can barely make any headway upwind.  Factor an oppositional current in and sailing backwards became the reality... as such, the only way to make progress was to run the motor... something I hate doing.

I refuse to motor my way to Chile (and I can't afford to do so either) so the new plan is surfing my face off in Panama, Costa Rica, and southern Nicaragua over the next couple months.

I'm hoping to haul the boat out in San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua where I can drydock it for a mere $3 daily.

Then I'm gonna fix it up as best I can on $0 and put it up for sale.  If it doesn't sell I'll return with new sails after a winter of skiing (and, unfortunately  working) in the J Hole.

In short, I've given up and am a loser.

But if giving up means further exploration of the surf in Central America, I'm already over it.

And if being a loser means being broke and dreamless, may I remind you that at a mere 28 years of age I freely and clearly own my own home... and it floats.

The tears have been shed and the waves are calling right now...

Partially released from delusion,



Pico De Loro

This left point is somewhere close... and there is a big swell coming in the 22nd-26th.  We are going to find it... and we are going to surf it.  It is near Nuqui.


A few years back, while buying Lonely Planet´s Trekking in the Patagonian Andes, a buddy at Teton Mountaineering gifted me an old Lonely Planet Columbia Guidebook... and I thought to myself...


Well, now I´m there and, FYI, the guidebook hasn´t done a lick of good... regarding the Pacific Coast, only one city, one island, and one small town are even mentioned...

So Tu Laki, Maestra, and I have been navigating based off a napkin drawing from Sarana and the advice of locals we´ve encountered... so far so good.

Leaving Panama took longer than expected because...

...we encountered the second worst storm I´ve met on the ocean... Tu Laki was very frowny.

...indecision about battling currents and winds and guerillas had me second guessing.

...the dog apparently has to poop EVERYDAY now.

...and we stumbled across a bonadied PARAISO en route.

PARAISO? PARADISE. Truly, too. I know... been looking for 10 months now.
Have you ever had 25 curious natives watch you boil pasta over a driftwood campfire?
I have. Turns out the last gringos to stop through came over a year ago. Everyone was ridiculously welcoming... heartachingly so... makes ya wonder why most folks have to be such dicks.

We´ve been cooking on the beach because we ran out of special Mexican latas de butano about two weeks ago and are never gonna find fuel compatible with the stoves we´ve currently got.

A trip to the local welder´s shop is in order. Fortunately Ramen doesn´t really need to be cooked... just soaked in the sun... same with coffee.

Regarding first impressions of Columbia, folks are better organized and things are generally tidier than I´ve encountered in most small towns since leaving the Ooosa. I´m excited for a trip to the hardware store.

The dog is doing great.
I wish I had a camera.

Pretend I´ve been kidnapped by Guerillas and donate ransom money... then we can spice up these posts a bit with some pics.

It feels good to be in South America... as the frigate soars closer to Puerto Montt and the pristine fjords of Chile than to Portland, Oregon and that massive toxic drainage ditch called, coincidentally, El Rio COLUMBIA.
He must have been one hell of a pirate.
ps I am in Bahia Solano, I think the town is called Mutis. We´ll be here for a few and are then setting sail in search of surf... the next internet connection should be 320 miles (about 10 days) South in Tumaco... a daysail from ECUADOR.



Hey All,

Lyric of the Day

You take your car to work
I´ll take my board.
And when you´re out of fuel
I´m still afloat.

Weezer, SurfWax USA

Leaving Costa Rica proved easier than expected thanks to running into my good friend, NorCal Landscaper, Tu Laki... the next in my recent string of HETEROSUGARDADDIES.

We surfed Pavones for a few days under the influence of a Japanese Apothecary's Magic Teas and then headed back to Matapalo to sample the goods there as well.

After crossing the border we surfed for a few days in moderate conditions at Santa Catalina (incidentally, the strangest little surf town I've yet to encounter)... before continuing east.

We encountered some of the most miserable current/wind chop of the trip and barely averaged a knot for 12 hours... it was some of the most frustrating sailing of the trip thus far.

Now we're in Panamanian surf paradise Playa Venao enjoying the last of a decent swell before turning North around Punta Mala (BAD POINT) and entering the busiest shipping lanes in the world... all the big boats leaving the Panama Canal have to round the BAD POINT as well... should be an exciting day.

From there we'll be outfitting the boat for a trip into the Darien, and across the Columbian Border... if at all possible we´d like to get our hands on an AK47... travel insurance.

So, that's that...