Three days, three hundred nautical miles, forty knot squalls, four meter seas. Taking refuse at a pristine reef, only to find it is a forbidden anchorage guarded by Columbian marines. Being border by the Columbian Armada and buzzed by a fighter jet. My most challenging sail yet and it started only four days before Christmas.

Four days before Christmas.

An expletive is yelled...."what" I say from the darkened cockpit. Its Sarah having attempted to sleep in her cabin only to come tumbling back out on deck via knocking the toilet door of its track. She is suffering. As are Charlotte and Luke now sleeping....and Jules...who is recovering but also sleeping.

While I haven't had the pleasure of seasickness, I have felt the beginnings of it and can sympathize. Like tonight heating up the passage meal...I felt a little shaken.

Jules prepared a meal for this passage which is a new thing for me. I have enjoyed the time taken to actually make one at sea. Often with very fresh fish. But while Jules hasn't been sick before, it was prudent with a two or three days sail and knowing that Sarah and Charlotte become lie down sailors within hours of departure and Luke is untried bar for our passage from Rio Chagres. It was good not to leave to much to chance.

With an expected 20knots and 3-4m swell it's was always going to be a little rocky. But it's the lack of wind and the swell that's the issue. Ooroo pivots from all four corners. She hasn't enough wind to fill her sails, to settle into her rhythm.

It's midnight day one on our sail from Bocas del Toro, due north to Cayo de San Andres, a south western Caribbean island that happens to be a part of Columbia. It's closer to Nicaragua and Costa Rica than Columbia. I estimated a 40 hour sail....but it's blowing out because there is no blow. In 12 hours we have gone just 30nm with 170nm to go. We have options to pull up 30nm short to visit Cayo de Albuquerque or head on another 50nm to Providencia. We will make landfall with whichever allows the best daytime arrival.

In saying that we plan on Christmas at San Andres. It's a party island for Columbians. So we should participate somewhat in the festivities.

My blogs have been lacking somewhat. To be honest I have found the going tough and un-inspiring of late. I have been trying to make Ooroo good and the holidays of my family even better. Is it possible to be a terminal grumpy old bugger at the ripe old age of 49?

But I'm sailing now...all of 2knots but we are going in the right direction...as is my attitude.

After picking Jules and Sarah up from Panama City and depositing them on board in Bocas it has rained. We have done some wet days sails, played copious amounts of pool. Seen sloths and monkeys and explored the eating and drinking dens of Bocas Town and Bastimentos.

I could live here. It is the first place I have visited that I could afford to buy a water front bar with a mooring off its deck for Ooroo. The sailing community aren't stark raving mad. The beaches are as good as any Aussie beach could be. You can buy prime beef, Camembert, Bombay Safire, red curry paste, pickled ginger, fishing tackle and dollar tacos and beer. (There you have it....my whole being in one sentence. I'm not grumpy now)

So with Christmas lights packed and many of my favorite things on board we are seeking out a Christmas like no other. Charlotte said earlier "surly it's not going to be out here dad?" We will see.

Three days before Christmas

Luke and Charlotte came on watch at 2am and with that we got our wind as predicted and our ETA is now back on track. I managed about 5 hours sleep. It's 9am and the cockpit is again strewn with prone bodies. We doing a brisk 6-7k in a lumpy ocean.

Never before has Ooroo been in a constant 25knots and 3-4 meter waves for so long. The day required quite allot of vigilance. Thank goodness for Luke. He is the only one who can stand and preform at the moment.

Luke and I put a second reef in the main sail and a first in the head as night approached. We also had to re-secure the dingy which had partially released from the davits. Luckily we had removed the engine for the passage. With the extra weight could have lost the whole lot. It turned out that the stainless ring bolt through the transom had snapped. Clearly a manufacturer's fault.

It's too windy and we are to light handed to even fish. The nights starts much like the previous one. Being so light handed I relay on Luke and Charlotte to give me breaks. They are doing a great job.

Two days before Christmas

It's officially the hardest passage I have undertaken so far. Winds and currents push us west and below the approach line that would be ideal for our morning arrival in San Andres. My first attempt to sleep is welcomed with a screeching squall that hit us in the darkness and reached 35knots. The winds have been gusting to the 30s constantly. We have stowed everything that could be blown overboard including Bimini sides and cushions etc. The squalls continue in an otherwise starry and moonlite night. They are like poison darts. There is no warning, they hit hard and then are gone. The worst of the six hit when we had a constant 20 knots. Within seconds it blow to over 40..I didn't watch how high it went as I steered into it to save my sails. When each one occurred whoever was sleeping out of Luke or I were on our feet instantly. Charlotte was also there to assist...especially in the safety stakes...."Luke, are you tied on...dad...are you" We usually required the engines to get us back on track.

At sun up I could lust make out San Andres. I spent 4 hours trying to tack into the 20 plus knots to attempt landfall. I got within 7nm before the currents, wind and huge waves caused me to go about and sail 20nm backwards to Cayo de Albuquerque. It's a shame we didn't pass when the sun was up. I would have taken cover there in a heart beat.

The crew wake to disappointment. We are going the wrong way. I needed sleep more than anyone and so had to make a call for us all. Albuquerque is two small coconut covered islands surrounded by a huge reef. From the entrance to the larger of the islands was 2nm. It was slow going. We had to dodge beautiful coral heads, coming close to a few. We finally anchored only 50m from a white white beach. Rest at last.

I think it was Charlotte that noticed the camouflaged and armed marines guarding beach first. There was allot of chatter on Chanel 16, clearly about us. We had met sailors that had come here before and heard no word about this being a base of some kind. We decided not to to go ashore.

The girls were uneasy. We where watched continually and even buzzed by a fighter jet. I was a little excited. It was suggested we leave and again attempt the sail to San Andres. I was completely against it. I needed sleep and wasn't going into a new Harbour at night.

Then we got boarded. It was actually a little comical. Four sailors from the Colombian Armada drew alongside in an open deck launch. It had six 200 liter drums of fuel on board, no protection from the wind and weather. All four scrambled politely onto Ooroo.

In broken English they asked about the health of the boat and us. If we required assistance to get out of the reef and be guided back to San Andres. I had just been working on the engine and the dingy so that gave us some excuse for being there. I showed them our GPS track to prove we attempted land fall. As sailors they didn't want to insist we headed back to sea. As a sailor I would have refused anyway. They took our case to shore and I can only surmise that the marines weren't happy.

They came back with more questions and then insisted they tether to us for the night to make sure we leave in the morning. The girls wouldn't have it so we actually gave the guys our spare anchor (as they didn't have one) some food and water (as they didn't have any) and asked them to anchor just off us. They were great actually. They were proud of what they do and even told us that they could take there 30 foot open launch all 400nm to Cartagena if needed.

We BBQed some stunning beef and then I slept....for 11 hours. Charlotte slept with a knife and Sarah with a fog horn. As if I would have heard that.

One day before Christmas.

The Armada guys dropped off the anchor and had left in the night. I woke refreshed but concerned. Even in the protected anchorage we had 18 knots. And it was now right on the nose. I did a safety briefing and admitted that under usual circumstances no one would go sailing in these conditions. I felt that I was putting everyone at risk.

We crawled respectfully out of the circular reef, set the sails still with double reefs and aimed as best we could for San Andres. Out motors allow us to point 30 degrees off the wind and we maintained a good 6 to 7 knots.

The sun was shining, the crew were excited to be moving and none felt any signs of sickness. There was a bazaar upbeat vibe on board....the one that only solid land and a visit from Santa could invoke. I felt much better because they all did. We tacked about 8 times. The seas were an improvement on the days before. No rain clouds were present. It felt great.

It took 7 hours to go the 20nm to the harbour and what a sight that was. Turquoise water, party boats all waving madly as we passed. Music blaring, jet skis screaming, people laughing, crew smiling and an anchorage close to the action waiting.

It will be a very Merry Christmas.