In our 4 and a half years of sailing we're always surprised when we experience a completely new adventure. And we're not home yet.
After sailing for some of the day with the gennaker, we finally had to turn the motor on in order to make it to the entrance of Bahia Del Sol on time for high tide, in order to cross the sandbar. The long undulating waves that peeled gently under our hull for most the day met their death as crashing mountainous breakers when they collided with the shallow sandy ground.
When we arrived, a Catamaran was also waiting to enter. At times their mast would almost disappear when the waves rolled under them. I took a deep breath wondering how it was possible to cross this wall of water. Through VHF radio, we were in contact with Bill who would come on a jet ski to guide the 2 boats in. We plugged in the final waypoint and slowly approached it. From this position the surf at least looked a little less daunting.
As Bill and his mate sat in the Jet Ski monitoring the waves and waiting for just the right moment he calmly told the Catamaran to get ready, steady, now go, with all your power.
And off they went, and deeper I sighed. By now we were all decked out in our life vests and Kara buried her head in the cushion and told us to call her when it was over.
Bill came back on the Jet Ski and told us to get in position. My heart began to beat more intensely. Uwe as ever, exuded calmness and reassured us that all would be ok.
Bill's friendly and soothing voice told us to get ready, steady, now go, at full throttle.
Here goes, oh jeez. "Magnum you're doin great", his encouraging voice echoed into the radio. Though I had a camera in my hand, I was simply far too nervous to even look at the mountain of surf behind that was chasing us. "Ok, Magnum, you're going to get a push from behind now, keep the boat perpendicular to the waves". And then it came, I glanced backward and at that point, just went with the flow. I took a peek at the speed which was now approaching 11 knots, hell I even took a picture once I held my shaky hand still enough to focus. Just then, as the wave lifted us up, the boat wanted to run parallel, but the good Captain Uwe commanded us steadily back. Bill was grinning right next to us, snapping happily and encouraging us along. "Ok Magnum, one more push". I could only think of its likeness to childbirth; the same wave of relief one feels after that final push, I think I might have even blessed myself (can't take the catholic from the girl). Kara was still buried facedown on the cushion, and as the last wave pushed us forth, I heard Bill shout "Welcome to El Salvador". And then, as quickly as it all began, it was over-PHEW! "Kara, you can come out now".
And my mind slowly realized that we would also have to face it again on the way out.
I asked Bill if there was alternative exit, he laughed and said, "same thing, just a different direction and off he zoomed".
We wanted to be at the dock, to avail of fresh water etc, but were told the current was running hard. We idled for a while and headed for the dock, where a line of helpers were gathered, shouting commands simultaneously. 1st attempt failed as the current was so strong, second attempt worked, and now here we are, just in time for Easter, eggs to be painted, bunny treats to be found.
Now can anyone top this sort of Easter excitement?