When we were about an hour out from our destination, we
heard a distress call on the VHF radio.
“Nomad” had run aground and was taking on water. They gave their co-ordinates and were only a
few miles past where we were headed- but over an hour away from us! It always makes my heart skip a beat when I
hear a “Mayday” call. The guy sounded
very close to panic. His english was
broken and difficult to understand AND he didn’t speak spanish. Not sure what his official language would
have been but he struggled to communicate with the Coast Guard to explain his
dilemma.
We listened to the call back and forth. The coast guard would ask questions but the
captain of Nomad could not understand what they were asking. All he kept saying in response to the
questions was … HELP us! We’re sinking. At one point he even said in a tone that
showed he was giving up, “I think we’re dead”.
The coast guard explained they had a police boat on the way but the poor
guy just couldn’t understand. All I
could think of is … that could be us! We’re traveling to foreign lands where we
don’t know their language and would be lesss able to communicate than the
captain of Nomad. That’s a VERY scary
thought!
There was a lot of chatter on the VHF in spanish (we’re
assuming between the coast guard and police) but we couldn’t understand
it. As we approached our destination
(only a mile or so from where all this was taking place), Larry called the
coast guard on the VHF and inquired on the status. Do you still need mariner assistance or is the problem
resolved? We were afraid the crew had
abandoned ship and were floating in the open seas and if there was anything we
could do to help … we would!
They explained the two men from the boat were onshore (and
safe). The boat was in very shallow
water and they were working to see what they could do to remove it.
Great!!! A major
sigh of relief!!! Still, heartbreaking
to think what these poor people went through.
I can’t imagine watching our home fill with water as we sit helplessly
by AND then to have to make that decision to abandon ship … it must be
devastating!
With this saga behind us, we motored towards our destination. The entrance is through a tiny cut in the
reef and then marked with channel markers as you approach town. You pass an outer reef, then an inner reef,
then small mangrove islands until you’re in the channel where you turn
west. You are just outside another long
mangrove area, with breaks every so often to the channel along shore. We could see the masts on the other side of
the mangroves and worked our way to where we thought it was safe to approach
thru the mangroves. The GPS is
completely useless here. It shows no
depths and actually showed us traveling on land … even though we were in about
10 feet of water. Each time we cut
through the mangroves, to the inner channel, all the boats would be crowded
into one spot (most of them on mooring balls) and the channel’s depth would
quickly drop from 10ft to about 4ft (maybe shallower but we always turned
before we ran aground. This did not
look like a great place to be. We continued
further west, testing each approach and always finding the same result (the
anchorage was over crowded, most were on moorings, AND the waters shallowed
quickly outside the area where everyone was congregated). We were beginning to wonder if we’d find any
place suitable to anchor. We were
almost at the end of the mangrove chain and the protected waters.
We slowly entered one more time between two mangrove
clusters and to our pleasant surprise, there was not a boat in sight. There was a nice little bay, about 10 feet
of water, very protected by the mangroves, and not a soul in site! We’d found our new home!!!
It was an awesome location. This is what we search for and can very rarely find. Solitude! Granted, with it being the weekend, there was considerable boat traffic with tourists, etc exploring the mangroves but it was a thousand times better than being in a cluster of moored boats and trying to find a safe anchorage.
We lowered the dinghy and joined the cascade of boats
exploring the area. I hope the pictures
I took do justice because it really is an awesome area and the ride thru the
mangroves was an amazing experience.
The water is warmer but still not “tropical” clear. We’re told it’s this way the entire
coastline of Puerto Rico and that we’ll have to wait until we get to the
Spanish Virgin Islands before we experience anything close to “clear”
water. That was a little disappointing
to discover but we don’t plan on spending too much time here so we will
settle. We need to go to Ponce for
fuel, water, supplies, etc so will probably spend a day or so there. Then it’s just hopping along the coast until
we reach the northeast area. We will
probably spend a few days in that area (and maybe try to get our spare outboard
motor fixed) before we begin the real trip of island hopping thru the
Caribbean.
We’re getting close … we’re getting anxious. We just have a few priorities to do in
Puerto Rico and then we’re off!
We’re a little unsure how the trip up the east coast of PR
will be. None of the books talk much
about it. There are very few anchorages
and only a few marinas (we hate marinas) but might be forced into taking one or
two for shelter/rest … depending how the trip will be. Our plans are to hit Ponce for a couple of
days, then onto Salinas (just a one day stop to wait to leave early morning for
the next area), then onto Pt Patillas (another quick stop) before we head round
the south-eastern tip and up the east coast.
We will probably make it a night time trip (the waters are calmer and
you get a bit of the lee of the land) and hopefully, weather permitting, go
straight from Pt Patillas to the north-eastern tip near Fajardo. If traveling is rough, we will stop part way
and spend the $’s for a damn marina!
Let’s pray for good weather!
No comments:
Post a Comment