Sequoia Changing Latitudes

22 June 2019 | Scappoose, Oregon
27 May 2019 | Back home in Oregon
09 May 2019 | Villas Alturas Hotel, Costa Rica
02 May 2019 | San Vito, Costa Rica
23 April 2019 | Golfito, Costa Rica
11 April 2019 | Panama City, Panama
04 April 2019 | Shelter Bay Marina, Colon, Panama
22 March 2019 | Jamaica
11 March 2019 | Zar Par Marina, Boca Chica, Dominican Republic
18 February 2019 | Culebra Island, Puerto Rico
31 January 2019 | Simpson Bay Lagoon, Sint Maarten
21 January 2019 | Nelson's Dockyard, English Harbour, Antigua
04 January 2019 | Portsmouth, Dominica
23 December 2018 | Rodney Bay, St. Lucia
12 December 2018 | 791 nautical miles east of St. Lucia
04 December 2018 | In the middle of the ocean
27 November 2018 | Santa Cruz de Tenerife
11 November 2018 | Pasito Blanco, Gran Canaria, Spain
28 September 2018 | Arrecife, Lanzarote, Canary Islands
19 September 2018 | Rabat, Morocco

The Last Leg of our Two-Year Odyssey

22 June 2019 | Scappoose, Oregon
Barbara Johnston | An Oregon early summer day -- cloudy but not too cold.
As you read in our last post, we had put Sequoia aboard the MV Kraszewski in Golfito, Costa Rica, and we headed home to wait the several weeks before the ship would show up in Victoria, B.C. Every day or so we were receiving an email from SevenStar Yacht Transport - the company that had arranged for the voyage - to tell us what the anticipated arrival date would be in Victoria. The Stonecliffes' boat, Julia Max, was also aboard the Kraszewski, so we exchanged email regularly about what was the latest prediction. We were also able to follow the ship's progress using its AIS transmissions, as reflected on websites and apps such as Still, there was so much uncertainty about the ship's arrival date and our anticipated trip north to receive Sequoia, that we just began to make clumps of appointments to take care of the routine doctor visits we'd been unable to make over the last year, with great hopes that the arrival would somehow fit in.

The first predicted date of arrival was June 6th in Victoria. We arranged with our friend, Mark Downing, to join us for the unloading. It was really a fairly simple plan: We would drive to Port Angeles on June 5, leave the car there, take the foot ferry to Victoria, stay overnight in a hotel, receive Sequoia the next day, re-rig, staying overnight on the boat in the Victoria harbor and then sail back to Port Angeles on the 7th where our car would be waiting. (It's a sail of just a few hours). Obligations at home prevented us from taking Sequoia all the way home at this point.

Glitch #1. There was no space at the dock in Victoria for the Kraszewski. (You'd think they would have figured this out farther in advance...) So the arrival port was changed to Nanaimo, about 80 miles north of Victoria on Vancouver Island, still saying they'd arrive on the 6th. So much for that dandy little plan we had worked out. Fortunately there was still time to cancel those hotel reservations in Victoria without charge. Now, we just had to work out how to get to Nanaimo and sail the boat back to somewhere in Washington State where we could leave her for a few days. Mark was still available, but I had a doctor's appointment I didn't want to postpone. So we worked out for Mark and Craig to take the float plane from Seattle to Nanaimo (Ka-ching!) the morning of the ship's arrival. They could receive Sequoia in the afternoon, re-rig her, stay the night on the boat in Nanaimo, and then sail to Bellingham. I would let them off at the Kenmore Air harbor in Seattle, drive to Bellingham, leave the car for them, and then take the train from Bellingham to Portland, in time to make my doctor's appointment. Yes, the plan is getting somewhat elaborate.

Glitch #2. Strong northwest winds off the California coast were going to cause a one-day delay in the ship's arrival. Nanaimo is still the arrival port. No seats were available on the Kenmore Air flight the next day.

Glitch #3. Mark's window of availability expired. I did find out that Kenmore Air would substitute me for Mark on the float plane, at no additional cost, so I cancelled my medical appointment. Craig and I would to drive to Seattle, stay overnight with our son, Ian, have him drive us to the Kenmore Air Harbor the next morning and take that float plane. We'd spend the day in Nanaimo, staying that night in a hotel, receiving Sequoia the next day, staying overnight on the boat in Nanaimo, sailing to Bellingham the next day, and then taking the train to Seattle. We'd pick up our car from Ian's house and drive home in time for our Monday morning appointments.

I was starting to get skeptical about whether this would work out at all, but amazingly it did. We figured we were down about $950, what with the float plane fare, the Nanaimo hotel and the train trip home from Bellingham. There are no guarantees in life.

The Kenmore Air flight from Seattle to Nanaimo was perfect, and we flew over so many places we've been to by boat - Edmonds, Port Townsend, Saltspring Island, Dodd Narrows and then into the float plane terminal just south of Nanaimo's Departure Bay.

Nanaimo is a truly lovely city, with beautiful gardens, historic buildings and lots of interesting public art. There are great restaurants and beautiful views out across the water. One block of the main street seems to have 3 or 4 bakeries. We noted one that stayed open all night and had all the necessary goodies for a bag lunch.

George and Sue Stonecliffe arrived by bus and we had a nice dinner with them that evening. We watched the app on our phones as the Kraszewski approached Victoria and then headed northeast between the San Juan Islands and Gulf Islands. I got up a couple of times during the night and saw - both on the AIS app and out the hotel window - when the Kraszewski arrived at about 2:30 am.

Receiving Sequoia from a freighter is something that we've done three times before, and yet every time is a bit different. We were allowed to go on board the freighter, and thence onto our boat to detach the backstay, which is necessary for the freighter's crane and slings to be able to lift the boat. In Nanaimo, in order to reach the freighter, we needed to walk all the way around Nanaimo's secured port area - a hike of about a mile through several construction zones on a fairly hot day. We took along a bag lunch from that all-night bakery and managed to accomplish several important tasks. Of course, we found the boat to be filthy, including some blobs and smears of black tar or grease which presumably came in on the crews' boots. (That same tar or grease could be found all over the freighter, including especially on the rickety boarding steps. Whatever you do, don't touch the "hand-rail"!)

As our appointed hour for the lift-off approached, we needed to climb off the boat, off the freighter, and make our way back through the mile plus of construction zones. We retrieved our duffel bags from the hotel lobby and then headed down to the town marina's fuel dock, where the crew tender would transport us back to the freighter by water.

When Sequoia reached Belgium two years ago, they had allowed us to board Sequoia when she was even with the freighter's deck and ride the rest of the way down. That's not permitted in Canada. So we watched her be lowered all the way down to the water, and then we were allowed to board. We handed the life jackets back to the pilot of the crew tender and scrambled onto Sequoia. Freighter crew scrambled down the side of the freighter, using a rope-and-board ladder, and climbed onto Sequoia (once more with those tar-covered boots!). They loosened and retrieved the lifting slings and climbed back up the ladder. We were away, under our own power.

We stopped at that fuel dock where the tender had picked us up and filled the tanks. (SevenStar had required that the tanks be nearly empty for the trip aboard the freighter). Luckily, we were able to obtain a space overnight at the Nanaimo Yacht Club, where George and Sue were waiting for us. We helped them with their rigging and sails; then they helped us. More hands make for faster work. Everything was set and we adjourned for a Thai dinner ashore, followed by a quick grocery shopping trip.

The next day we set sail for the 70 nm trip to Bellingham at about 5:15 am. (Yay for June in northern latitudes and the approaching summer solstice). The sun was just up as we left the dock. There wasn't much wind, so we didn't get to sail much, but we were anticipating a very long trip, including a stop at Point Roberts to clear customs into the United States. We finally reached Bellingham at about 4 pm, did the few necessary chores, found dinner, and fell into bed. The next morning, we hailed an Uber and got to the train station with plenty of time to spare.

Fast forward a week. Our son Ian was interested in helping us bring Sequoia back to our home port at St. Helens, Oregon, 86 miles up the Columbia River from its mouth at the Pacific Ocean. The timing of the trip was dictated by Ian's availability. We took the train and bus to Bellingham and then sailed to Port Angeles. Ian was able to catch a bus there from Seattle, and he arrived just a couple of hours after we did. We were also joined by a friend, Jim Mask, so we had good help and good company for the trip back to St. Helens. The next morning we sailed (actually motored) to Neah Bay, which is on the Makah Indian Reservation. The marina is full of successful fishermen -- both the commercial fishermen/native people and the large supply of tourists in their runabouts or on charter boats. The fish cleaning station was always in use and was enthusiastically monitored by local Bald Eagles and sea lions. It was quite an interesting show.

We left Neah Bay mid-morning the next day, timing our departure so that we'd arrive at the Columbia River Bar at slack tide, about 24 hours later. We rounded the northwest corner of Washington State and headed south. Currents and winds pushed us southward somewhat faster than we expected, so in the middle of the night we began to hold back, taking down the sails and running with the engine at a dead idle. It was a successful strategy and crossing the bar was uneventful. The flood tide pushed us a good way up the river and we saw favorable (to us) currents for about the first half of our river journey. We did make it to St. Helens - just before dark. Very happy to be there!

So, the big trip is over. We visited 35 countries (or distinct islands and territories) over the last 2 years, learned at least a few words in 10 different languages and saw some wonderful, strange, fascinating and mysterious things. Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, England, Guernsey, Sark, Jersey, France, Spain, Portugal, Gibraltar, Morocco, Lanzarote, Gran Canaria, Tenerife, St. Lucia, Martinique, Dominica, Guadeloupe, Antigua, St. Kitts and Nevis, Sint Maarten, St. Martin, Anguilla, British Virgin Islands, US Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Jamaica, Panama, Costa Rica and Canada. Whew!

The world is a wonderful and friendly place, and the reverence of the people for their own histories and cultures is impressive. People are curious about what's going on with American politics, and not a few expressed fears for the future of our planet. Many asked whether we had voted for Trump (we did not) and they were curious about how we saw the future of our country. (That's a subject for a very different conversation than this one!)

We're glad to be back home in Oregon, where the summer temperature range is quite reasonable and pleasant, the flowers are beautiful, the water is plentiful and the fruits are just starting to come in. We're looking forward to our music engagements during the coming year, and then maybe we'll think about setting sail again - although probably just in the Pacific Northwest.

If you have comments or questions about our trip, we'd love to hear from you.
Best wishes to all!
Craig & Barbara
S/V Sequoia

Leaving Golfito and heading home

27 May 2019 | Back home in Oregon
Barbara Johnston | Beautiful, warm, clear
We had made a couple of road trips from Golfito which I told you about in my last post. Coming back to Golfito we found things relatively unchanged. The weather was beastly hot when the sun was out, and only slightly cooler when it clouded over and the rains came. We noticed that the rainy season had definitely arrived, and the daily pattern was to have some sun, some clouds and at least a shower, if not a downpour. Most days there was thunder and lightning, sometimes for several hours. We scheduled our activities to fit in between the weather changes, avoiding both full sun and downpour. In San Vito we had acquired a pair of umbrellas, and those certainly came in handy.

On May 12, we were eating in the Fishhook Marina's restaurant, and I walked down to the boat to retrieve something. As I came back up the ramp, everything started to shake. I could see the pilings under the building shake back and forth, and the burgees decorating the ceiling inside the restaurant flailed wildly. The ramp was also shaking. This continued for 5 or 6 seconds and then stopped. Craig squirted out of the restaurant and onto the ramp, not wanting to be inside when the roof came down (which it didn't, of course). Then everything back to normal. Someone told us that Costa Rica experiences 700 earthquakes a year, but this was obviously stronger than most. It was centered close to the border with Panama, and magnitude readings came in at between 6.1 and 6.7, depending upon the news source. Our friend, Joe Carr, saw a news article about the earthquake in a Canadian newspaper, and he wrote us referencing the news article. What was somewhat bizarre is that the illustration for the article was a picture of the Puerto Armuelles dock, already falling down when we visited it just before reaching Golfito. It might look to readers like it was an illustration of a bad quake, but to us it looked pretty much the same as when we had seen it a few weeks before. There apparently was not much damage anywhere, just groceries falling off shelves in stores and that sort of thing.

Other than that earthquake, every day's high point was receiving an email from SevenStar Yacht Transport, giving us an update on when we might see the MV Kraszewski, the freighter designated to take Sequoia north to Victoria B.C. We had been told several months ago that our proposed shipping date of about May 20 was being moved up, and that the freighter might arrive about May 8 or 9. On that basis, we made an early arrival to Golfito on April 23. Throughout the end of April and the beginning of May the arrival date began to creep later and later, until finally the predicted arrival date was back to May 19. On May 18 we tuned into the Panama Canal's web cam and watched the Kraszewski going through the Gatun locks and then the Miraflores locks, and we thought for awhile that they would make it to Golfito by the 19th. The agent sent us loading times for the 20th: Sequoia would be loaded at 10 am and Julia Max at 10:30 am. On that basis, we bought airplane tickets for the 21st.

May 19 came and went, with no sign of the Kraszewski. But May 20, at breakfast, we watched the ship come into the Golfito Harbor, and we prepared to head out and be alongside a few minutes before 10 am. Fortunately, it wasn't raining, but the sun was brightly shining, and it was hot. We had taken down all the canvas for the passage aboard the freighter, so there was nowhere to get shade except to go all the way inside the boat.

The Kraszewski was already well behind schedule. They rearranged the order of the boats being unloaded and loaded, and we were obviously not going to load at 10. We milled around, motoring upwind, and then turning off the motor while we drifted downwind, back toward the freighter. We did that over and over, taking care not to run into Julia Max, which was doing the same thing. Noon came, and they all quit for lunch. Everything moved glacially slowly, and great amounts of time were spent changing the crane fixtures for lifting the various types of boats. This was a vastly different operation than what we had seen on each of our previous SevenStar voyages. The Kraszewski is not owned by SevenStar's parent company (Spliethoff), but instead is an independently owned freighter, chartered by SevenStar. Some of the crew didn't seem to have any idea what they were supposed to be doing. A SevenStar loadmaster was present, and fortunately he was completely fluent in English and Spanish, working at a breathtaking pace to keep everything in order. Finally, at about 3 pm we were told to come alongside. The sea was getting rough, and we hastily rearranged the fenders to avoid transferring too much of the freighter's paint onto Sequoia's rub rail.

The loadmaster and about 4 of the Kraszewski's crew climbed down a rope ladder onto Sequoia's deck. It took a long time for the lifting straps to be properly positioned, and the boat was far from level on the first lift. The loadmaster didn't like it, they set the boat down, repositioned the straps a bit, and then pulled it up again. It was a bit more level and they nestled Sequoia down into her designated location on the deck. Straps were tied to hold her in place, jack stands along both sides and wood under the keel, all before they released the straps to move on to lifting Julia Max.

Craig secured Sequoia's backstay and we made a few other adjustments, watched while Julia Max was nestled in beside us, then we climbed some very rickety stairs down to the water level, where a small boat awaited to take us back to the marina. It was VERY dicey climbing onto that small boat from those rickety stairs, but we made it. By the time we got back to the marina it was starting to get dark. (It was an all-day exercise as you can see). All day in the sun, and Craig had a sunburn - his first of the trip.
The last three nights of our time in Costa Rica we stayed in one of the hotel rooms at the Fishhook Marina. The air conditioning was very nice, and the room was worth the price. We had dinner and went to bed very early, anticipating our 5 am alarm clock so we could depart at 5:30 for the Golfito airfield.

Our flight from Golfito to San Jose, the capitol of Costa Rica, was scheduled to depart at 6:40, and we were told to get there an hour early. The "terminal" was an open-sided corrugated metal shed, manned by a security guard. When we arrived, there was no one else present, although we were told that the plane would hold 12 passengers and that it was to be full. In the shed, there were about 8 beat up seats, a scale, some chocks for the plane's wheel, a big battery on wheels, and a couple of toilets behind appropriately labeled corrugated metal doors. There was a separate office, apparently for the security guard, door standing open, and an open revolver on the top of the desk.
Finally, a very elderly gentleman showed up and began the process of checking us in. They weighed all the bags to be checked, and then weighed each passenger, carrying his or her carry-on. Eventually the plane arrived, the pilot and co-pilot took advantage of the restrooms and then they and everyone else loaded on, together with all the baggage. We managed to snag seats right behind the pilot and co-pilot, and really enjoyed the flight and all the beautiful views of the jungle and the ocean. The day proceeded with Alaska Airlines flights from San Jose to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Seattle, Seattle to Portland, arriving finally at 11:15 pm.

We've slept a lot the last few days but now we're emerging from the mists, eager to tackle the house chores and the big projects that await us.

We'll head up to Victoria in a couple of weeks to watch as they lift Sequoia off the freighter and we once again take possession of her - hopefully none the worse for wear. We think we'll bring her right back to Portland, although the idea of cruising in the San Juans this summer is also certainly tempting. Stay tuned for the last episode of this blog - at least for awhile!

Road Trips and Retreats in Costa Rica

09 May 2019 | Villas Alturas Hotel, Costa Rica
Barbara Johnston | Hot and muggy, with rain and thunderstorms every afternoon
After a few days in Golfito, Costa Rica, jumping through the necessary immigration hoops, we began the process of preparing Sequoia for shipping home. We watched the messages from SevenStar Shipping, which have come on a nearly-daily basis, with a prediction of when we might expect the MV Kraszewski in Golfito. The date keeps slipping, so as of this writing they’ve changed the arrival of the ship to a window of the 17th-19th of May. They’ve also changed ships, and the new one (the Kraszewski) is evidently much bigger, much deeper draft, and the loading will take place 14 miles away from our marina. (Previously they were to load within a mile of where we are). The weather is slipping into the rainy season, and nearly every afternoon there is rain, sometimes heavy, and sometimes accompanied by several hours of thunder and lightning. We’re wondering whether they will continue with loading in such weather, or whether that will occasion additional delays. And of course we can’t purchase our return flights to Portland until we know for sure that we really can leave on that date!

So we’re living in a state of uncertainty, and, damn, the weather is unbearably hot! Most days the temperature climbs over 90°F and the humidity over 70%. We have begun to look forward to the rain, because it does have somewhat of a cooling effect. We try to do one strenuous boat chore at 6:00 or 6:30 am each day, before the sun hits the boat.

The best strategy to beat the heat has been to leave Golfito for a road trip. We first spent 4 nights in San Vito, 3000 feet up in the mountains, inland from Golfito and near the Panama border. We joined with George and Sue to rent an SUV and stayed in a bed & breakfast called Casa Botania. I can unreservedly say this is one of the best lodgings I’ve ever stayed in. (Mountain Home Lodge in Leavenworth, WA would be a close second). It’s almost a matter of a psychological vibe that suffuses the place. They’ve done a beautiful job of landscaping with gorgeous tropical plants – many in bloom – wild ginger, Chinese ginger, palms of many sorts, bananas, “poor man’s orchid” (not sure what that actually is, but very pretty), amaryllis, bougainvillea, bromeliad and so many more whose names are unknown to me. Lots of birds are attracted, most notably many hummingbirds and kites. George and Sue were in a constant state of excitement about all the birds (known to them, as longtime birders) they were seeing. A wonderful breakfast every morning including fresh eggs from hens in a forest enclosure on the property, lots of fresh fruit and amazing home made bread. One evening we had a delicious Costa Rican/Belgian dinner (the proprietors, Pepe and Kathleen, are a Costa Rican/Belgian couple). Two other evenings we put together dinners from a San Vito grocery store, and the staff very kindly put out all the dishes and utinsels we would need, together with a loaf of their homemade bread.

From Casa Botania we made a couple of excursions to the Wilson Botanical Gardens, a 50+ year old enclosure with tropical plants from around the world and supporting research through a consortium of 52 different universities operating as the Organization for Tropical Studies. Needless to say there is a vast bird population attracted by the gardens.

We also visited a group of coffee farms and observed many aspects of their operations (although no harvest happens for the next several months). They sell most of their product to Illy, the Italian coffee company, but they do sell a small amount locally, and we bought a couple of bags to take home. At the end of the tour we participated in a tasting, being invited to comment on “acidity, fruitiness, body, balance…” and some other characteristics that I can’t remember and couldn’t really understand. It was quite an experience. (See George & Sue’s blog post about the coffee plantation)

We were back to the boat for 48 hours, while George and Sue took the car to another mountainous area. It was again beastly hot in Golfito, and we took off on Tuesday for what we believed was a beach resort with air conditioning. When we got to the place, though, it was a right turn off the road (away from the ocean) and about a mile up a steep, rutted grade. Never mind, this resort is also a lovely place, with Toucans and Fiery Billed Aricaras (see photo at top of this post) in frequent close-up view, a swimming pool, beautiful view, lower temperatures than the beach, and an adjacent wildlife sanctuary. Although the vibe doesn’t quite live up to the Casa Botania, I can also heartily recommend this place. We found it to be cool enough that we didn’t need the air conditioning. One afternoon I had a massage out on the deck of our “villa”. There is really nothing more relaxing than a massage to the sound of rain and frogs and birds in a pleasantly warm climate.

Well, tomorrow it’s back to Golfito to launch in on further necessary preparations. I won’t write about those in this post, so that we can retain the lovely relaxed feeling of these two beautiful retreats.

Best wishes to our friends and family.
Craig & Barbara Johnston
S/V Sequoia

Leaving Panama

02 May 2019 | San Vito, Costa Rica
Barbara Johnston | Pleasant during the day, cooler and foggy at night
As we’ve traveled over the past two years, we have continued to run into new holidays and new reasons for government offices to close. We have sometimes found ourselves cooling our heels while the locals are out celebrating.

We were in Panama, wanting to head northwest into Costa Rica. We were mindful that Panama is a Catholic country, and that the Holy Week, before the Easter weekend, is a big deal. Our friends, George and Sue, headed for Puerto Armuelles, in the extreme western part of Panama, so that they could check out of the country before everything closed down for the Easter weekend. We decided we couldn’t make it that far in the time we had, so we aimed for Easter Sunday afternoon, thinking to check out on Monday morning. As it turns out, George and Sue weren’t able to complete all the steps before the offices all closed for the weekend at noon on Thursday. So they were able to offer us lots of information and advice while we made our way to Puerto Armuelles, and we all successfully completed the checkout on Monday morning.

Puerto Armuelles used to have a big banana export business, and their big dock (the “bananero”) was used to load ships with bananas. But for whatever reason, the business went away, and the bananero is following as fast as it can. It used to be that cruising boats could tie their dinghy to the dock and climb a ladder to reach shore. But the last ladder blew away in a storm last month, sheet metal is hanging by a thread, and the dock is falling apart in so many other ways. See photo at the top of this post.

The only way to get ashore is by doing a beach landing. George and Sue took their dinghy ashore that first morning, getting wet and sandy on both the landing and the re-launching. But it turns out that some of the local fishermen operate as water taxis on an unpredictable, ad hoc basis. They know the waters and the waves, so are able to get passengers to shore without a dunking. If you’re lucky, they come by when you need them, or you have a phone number to call. If not, you might wait a long time!

The anchorage at Puerto Armuelles is an open roadstead, and when the south wind rises in the afternoon, there’s a lot of rocking and rolling going on. Fortunately, at night the air is completely calm, so it’s a very good overnight anchorage.

The locals ride bikes or walk out to the end of the dilapidated dock and fish with hand lines while hanging out with friends from dawn to dusk. The fishermen anchor their little boats close to the dock and climb up ropes or parts of ladders pieced together with ropes. At one point on Sunday afternoon, a man walked out on the dock to near where we were anchored and shouted questions at us. It turned out he was the person in charge of the whole customs and immigration process, and he wanted to know whether we needed to check in or check out, even though it was Sunday and excessive fees are charged. I got the gist of it and assured him that Monday would be fine.

George and Sue had arranged transportation with one of the fishermen/water taxis for 9 am Monday morning. Unexpectedly, the little boat arrived at 8:30, and it was a mad scramble to get our papers together and our heads screwed on straight. The beach landing was straightforward and we proceeded to the first office. There was a lot of waiting around, and then we visited at least four other offices in succession, including immigration, customs, health/quarantine and merchant marine (???) Some of the offices were in a very old building with high ceilings and cool interior temperatures. Others had icy air conditioning and were filled with government employees who had clean desks and seemingly nothing to do except look at the screens of their phones. The man who had accosted us from the bananero dock on Sunday was in charge of the whole process. He took us to each office in succession and helped with communications. We had heard some fairly negative things about clearing out in Puerto Armuelles, but that’s not what we found. Only the anchorage and the need to use local transportation to get ashore should give other cruisers pause.

After clearing customs, Julia Max and Sequoia departed immediately for Costa Rica. A long peninsula juts southward and the border between Panama and Costa Rica runs down the spine of the peninsula. We headed south, rounded the tip of the peninsula and then anchored in a big, shallow bight (unnamed) just beyond the tip. We had a terrible time getting the anchor to catch – instead it would just drag across what appeared to be a field of bowling balls. There wasn’t much wind, and not much was predicted, so we finally just decided to accept a less than optimum hold. We ended up about a half mile away from Julia Max. George reported they had good holding with their anchor. We set the anchor alarm and hoped for the best.

The water motion was gentle throughout the evening, but at about midnight a giant wave struck. George reported that he felt a sudden wind, saw a large wave approaching, and then Julia Max was pitched up at a 45 degree angle. The wave washed over the boat, in through open ports and onto a berth and the cabin sole. It threw Sue across the cabin, putting a gash in her forehead.

Sequoia must have been at a different angle to the wave. We experienced extreme rolling, but no wave came over the boat. The giant wave came back every few minutes. We got up and re-stowed or cushioned things that were making a loud clatter. And fortunately, the anchor held.
It’s a mystery what it was. After a few hours the waves stopped, and we were back to a calm night with just gentle rolls. Was it a tsunami? A rogue wave? We searched Google for any report of an earthquake that might have generated a tsunami. None found. We’ll never know.

The next morning we continued north into Golfo Dulce and then into Golfito. It’s a beautiful tropical bay, but beastly hot. Some days there is lightning in the hills and some days a heavy rain shower.

We’re here in Golfito to await the arrival of the MV Kraszewski, which will load up Sequoia and Julia Max and deliver the two boats to Victoria, BC. We presently expect the ship on about May 15, two weeks from now.

So, you may ask, why aren’t we sailing Sequoia all the way home? We had intended to sail to Hawaii, and from Hawaii to Portland. But the more we thought about the 30-day passage between here and Hawaii, the less we wanted to do it. Going northwest along the Central American, Mexican, California and Oregon coasts is not really an option because there are almost always very strong winds blowing in the opposite direction for much of the trip. It’s a bash that beats the stuffing out of sailors and their boats. It can be done but it doesn’t meet our definition of fun (and this is supposed to be a fun trip). Additionally, we’ve been having serious issues with our only-two-years-old electronic instruments which we are not wanting to test against the Pacific Ocean.

Then, of course there is the attraction of spending the summer in the Pacific Northwest, which is very much a special time of year. And since we’ve made this decision, I’ve signed up for three week-long chamber music workshops this summer (including one in Romania) which I’m very much looking forward to.

The coast of Costa Rica is unreasonably hot this time of year. We understand that the rainy season starts at the end of May, and that it will become generally a bit cooler at that time. But for now, the air is stagnant, temperatures are in the nineties every day, and humidity is 65-70% We find ourselves unable to do anything productive, other than the minimum required to keep ourselves fed and bathed (showers are very popular!)

So yesterday we and the Stonecliffes rented a car and drove up into the mountains, where it is considerably cooler during the day, and downright cold and foggy at night. We’re staying at a lovely Bed & Breakfast, called Casa Botania, in the middle of tropical jungle near the town of San Vito. There is an abundance of birds and flowers here. We’ve visited the Wilson Botanic Gardens, a major tropical research center, and we have plans to visit a coffee plantation, perhaps an indigenous art and culture center, and just hang out in these cooler temperatures. After a few days here and a couple of days back at the boat, we have plans to spend three nights at a beach resort – air conditioned! When we return to Golfito, we’lll have 4-6 days to get the boat ready for shipment.

So look for us in Portland before the end of May. We’ll need to make a quick trip up to Victoria to receive Sequoia off the freighter, and then we should have her home by mid-June.

Best wishes to all our friends and family,
Craig & Barbara Johnston
S/V Sequoia

Panama -- The Pacific Side

23 April 2019 | Golfito, Costa Rica
Barbara Johnston | Hot and humid
I wrote a somewhat technical notes, for other cruisers, about some of the “wish we’d known” things for the Panama Canal transit. But I haven’t actually written about our interesting experiences in the canal transit. So I’ll start with that.

On April 5, Craig left Shelter Bay Marina to be a line handler for Julia Max, the boat owned by our friends, George and Sue Stonecliffe. The plan was that he and George would return to Shelter Bay by land transportation once they arrived in Panama City (at the Pacific end of the canal). George would then serve as a line handler for Sequoia, starting the next day (April 7). I stayed with the boat to get everything ready for our 4 line handlers, plus our transit advisor, plus the two of us. Meals had to be planned and prepared for 7 people for two days, and places found for six people to sleep (the transit advisor goes home at night). It was a lot of work!

At one point, on day 2, I heard flute music coming from the French boat across the dock from us. I decided to take an interruption, take a chance, see if there was some possibility of chamber music – something I’ve been looking for throughout our trip. Indeed, Rèmy brought his flute, some baroque music and we spent 45 minutes playing through some old chestnuts. What a thrill to combine my love of sailing and my love of music in one place!

Craig and George had quite an adventure getting back across the Isthmus on a Saturday night. They decided to take a taxi all the way, and the problem is that the Panama City taxi drivers know their way to Colón, but they certainly don’t know their way to Shelter Bay Marina. Their taxi driver insisted on going the maximum possible speed despite deep potholes, and he disappeared from the vehicle while waiting in line for the ferry (they were lucky he reappeared at the last possible moment to get onto what may have been the last ferry for the night!)

We were instructed to leave the marina at 1 pm on the 7th and go out and anchor in “The Flats” (just outside the marina). Our transit advisor would arrive there, by pilot boat, around 3 pm. When we arrived at The Flats we were told by Cristobal Traffic Control that our transit advisor wouldn’t arrive until 5:30! The sun was going down as we entered the first lock and it was totally dark before we got to the second lock (of three total in the Gatún locks).
We exited the last lock into Lake Gatún, and found our way, with spotlights, to the mooring buoy set up for small boats like us. It’s a giant buoy, rubber for gentle bumping and a large flat top, about 6 feet across. One of the linehandlers is expected to jump onto the buoy and tie lines onto the big ring in the center. (Fortunately we had a teenager aboard, who was more than happy to do that). Another boat was on the other side of the buoy, and we tied bow and stern lines to them. Then a third boat came along and rafted onto our other side. The water in the lake seemed calm and peaceful – there wasn’t much wind. But during the night, each time a giant freighter went by, there were big wakes and the three boats rolled back and forth at different rates with much jerking of lines and squeaking noise of complaining fenders.

The second day we got a much earlier start. It was about 4 hours through Lake Gatún and then into the infamous Culebra Cut through Panama’s continental divide. On the way from Jamaica to Panama, I had just finished reading “The Path Between the Seas” by David McCulloch and so much of the construction difficulties centered on the Culebra Cut. The walls of the cut continued to subside for years, and they’ve had to excavate further and further into the hillside to achieve a stable angle of repose.

Immediately after the Culebra Cut we came to the Pedro Miguel Lock, and then continued to the first Miraflores lock. Here, things ground to a halt. We had been scheduled to go through the westernmost lock, but it had suddenly and unexpectedly been shut down. Our transit advisor finally told us that a canal worker had fallen into the canal. They searched for his body but did not find it. Apparently it was caught in one of the gigantic pipes that moves water between locks. Horrific to think about. It had struck us that the workers were fairly casual about their own safety and that railings and gates were much less evident than might be expected.

Ultimately the schedule was revised, and we continued into the eastern channel of the first Miraflores lock. Here is where one of the Canal’s webcams is positioned, and our friend, Joe Carr, monitoring us via the internet, had a good view of us. He posted a new image whenever there was anything new to see, throughout the transit of the canal. Thank you, Joe! We passed by the Canal’s visitor center, where we had stood watching a few days before. There was just as big a crowd watching us go through as had been there when we were part of the crowd.

We stayed just three nights in the Marina Playitas in Panama City – doing clean-up and provisioning for the next part of our trip. We sketched out an itinerary taking us to the Las Perlas Islands and then westward toward the border with Costa Rica.

Unfortunately, April is the season of burning in Panama. Some have told us this is agricultural field burning but others say that just before the start of the rainy season, the land is particularly vulnerable to fire. Most notably, the tropical sun shines through glass bottles (part of the garbage that’s discarded everywhere), the bottle focuses the sun’s rays and a fire starts. Or someone throws out a burning cigarette. Or power lines fail. Craig particularly noticed eye irritation, but more than that, the air was thick, heavy and hot, with only a few miles of visibility. At times there was ash falling out of the clouds. We didn’t get much enjoyment out of the Las Perlas (so beautifully pictured in our cruising guide) because there was nothing much to see. A couple of sailboats were there, but no one went ashore and no one went snorkeling. We did try once, but the water was full of organic stuff and there was nothing to see underwater.

We continued westward, around the Azuero Penninsula and into the Gulf of Chiriqui. We stopped at Benao, a surfing resort (still quite smoky) and then on to Ensenada Naranjo, where the smoke started to lift and the jungle ashore was quite pretty.

From there we sailed to Isla Coiba, a national park. George and Sue had told us that the year before they had paid $100 per night, but that it was worth it because the snorkeling was so spectacular. We did not find any good snorkeling, perhaps because we were anchored in a different bay. Again, the jungle was beautiful, but the water was cloudy with organic material. Some park rangers came around and told us that the fee for anchoring is $180 per day, plus an unspecified per person cost. We’d have to go to the ranger station to pay it. OR, we could pay them on the spot, $50 per day, and then we wouldn’t have to go to the ranger station. It did look like a government boat, they were wearing official-looking uniforms, they said they were the ones in charge of the whole area and they spoke with a great deal of authority. With a lot of regret in hindsight, we took their deal. We later learned from George and Sue that there were interesting and helpful people at the ranger station, that an interesting trail started there, they had an opportunity to see monkeys, and the cost was in fact $60 per day, not the $180 quoted by “our” rangers.

Every day here has been brutally hot (90+ degrees F, with 65% relative humidity) and we find ourselves without much ambition. There hasn’t been much wind and sometimes at night there are lightning storms in the skies. So far, there are lots of clouds but not much rain.

Yesterday we arrived at the north end of Parida Island. We’ve been seeing trees just above water level with clumps of white blossoms but not much in the way of leaves. As we came into the anchorage there was a lovely flower fragrance, and we have suddenly realized that these are plumeria trees – the blossoms are used in fragrant Hawaiian leis.

We chose this anchorage because our ten-year-old Panamanian cruising guidebook said there was a resort here – we were excited by the thought of going ashore and having, perhaps, a resort restaurant meal. What we could see ashore looked like several very modest houses and a number of shacks. A variety of small boats came and went, and some of them – perhaps – carried tourists. But when we went ashore, we learned that this is a new national marine park, Golfo de Chiriquí, consisting of Isla Parida and 43 other islands. The most substantial building ashore here – perhaps it’s the former resort – is now park headquarters. So much for the hoped-for resort restaurant dinner!

On the beach we met Carlos and Indira, emerging from the ocean with snorkeling gear. Carlos, it turns out, is the chief administrator (“Big boss”) of this park. He lives in Puerto Armuelles and spends about half the week in the park. He talked at some length about the difficulties of getting the government (and the people) to take the environment seriously. Among the problems they face are the dozens of families that have lived in these islands for generations and cannot be kicked out. Those families continue to generate garbage and other environmental damage. We wanted to find the trail to the other side of the point which was also mentioned in the guidebook. We learned that the trail is unmarked and in poor condition because the local families don’t really want people walking on their property on the island.

We invited Carlos and Indira to stop by Sequoia as they left the island in the afternoon. They arrived in the government boat, loaded up with 6 or 8 other people and headed for Boca Chica. Fortunately we were not obligated to entertain them all! Indira is a lawyer, and speaks much better English than Carlos. Between the four of us and our varying language skills, we were able to carry on an interesting conversation about the island, the problems of their country and living in this heat! They stayed only about 20 minutes but were very friendly and interesting. Carlos offered to help if we run into any difficulties with customs and immigration in Puerto Arguelles, and we have his phone number!

I had intended to upload this post to the Sailblogs page when I finished it, but we didn’t have internet until now, 4 days later. A lot has happened since then, but that will have to be the subject of a different post.

Best wishes to all our friends and family!
Craig & Barbara
S/V Sequoia

The Panama Canal - Thoughts for Other Cruisers

11 April 2019 | Panama City, Panama
Barbara Johnston & Craig Johnston | Hot, muggy, overcast
With our Outbound 44 sailboat, we transited the Panama Canal in the southbound direction, on April 7-8 2019. We started at Shelter Bay Marina at the north end of the canal, and finished at La Playita Marina, Panama City.

Much of this narrative relates to dealing with agents. We elected to hire an agent. Other people did not. Since I don’t know much about doing it on your own, this narrative doesn’t cover that situation.

Our agent was Erick Galvez, email He certainly did an acceptable job, although we never met Erick, and his employee, James, didn’t speak enough English to be able to answer many of our questions. We saw James 3 times: for the initial sign-up when information is gathered, when the lines and fenders were delivered (one day before the transit began), and when we redelivered the lines and fenders at the end of the transit. The last two times there was no conversation; he was merely one of the people carrying lines and fenders. The reviews on Noonsite for Erick are much more positive than this. Apparently Erick used to show up at Shelter Bay frequently. Now not so much.

For Sequoia, a 44 foot boat (which with all projections measured out at 46.59 feet), we paid a total of $1469 (April, 2019). That includes tolls of $800, $54 inspection fee, $130 “security fee” (I have no idea what that’s for), $60 bank charges (the cost of using a credit card), $350 agency fee, $75 lines and fender rentals.

We have heard about much more personalized service from “Stan”. On the downside, Stan wants to be paid cash or by wire from your bank; Erick accepts a credit card and charges a $60 fee for “bank charges.”

We emailed Erick for the first time 5 days before we arrived in Panama. He asked for additional detailed information, which we provided by email. (Never mind that we were asked for all that information again when we arrived in Panama).

Whoever your agent is, be aware that once you are anchored out awaiting the arrival of your transit authority, you are completely in the hands of the Panama Canal authorities and not your agent. Your agent collects information from you, gets you a slot in the system, answers some of your questions, and provides you the lines and fenders you will need. If you are unable to find line handlers on your own, your agent can line up some or all of those people for you. But don’t leave it until the last minute (and by that I mean 3-4 days before), or your agent may have already committed all his available line handlers. (More about line handlers below)

In that initial meeting with your agent, you will be asked to make some choices, and we wish we had been more informed at that time. The biggest questions: (1) when do you want to transit, (2) do you need the agent to provide some or all line handlers, and if so how many and (3) which transit configurations are acceptable?

It turns out the first two questions are interlocked. You may have agreed with another boat or boats that you’ll serve as each other’s line handlers. If so, you’ll have to coordinate dates to make sure that you’re not scheduled for the same or overlapping transit time. The transit (at least southbound) takes two days. From experience, it’s completely exhausting to do a 2 day transit on one boat followed by a 2 day transit on another boat. You should consider scheduling a day in between. Don’t forget that on your own boat you will have to provide sleeping accommodations for 4 line handlers plus yourselves, meals and snacks for 4 line handlers plus your transit advisor plus yourselves, plus one of you will have to serve as skipper.

There’s something to be said for having the agent provide at least one line handler. That person will be local, will speak Spanish, will likely be young and relatively physically fit, will be completely familiar with all the canal procedures, and can assist in directing your less-experienced line handlers as to what they ought to do and not do. You’ll pay $100 for each line handler hired through your agent.

Other cruisers would be our first choice for the other three line handlers. But there are also people out there who will serve as line handlers for a fee, and/or for transportation reimbursement. We engaged a couple of teenagers from a Shelter Bay cruising boat, who are doing line handling to make some money. That worked out fine. We also engaged a local expat who wanted to do it for the experience. That also worked out fine. We reimbursed him for his transportation.

Land transportation across the isthmus can vary widely in cost and effectiveness. A Panama City taxi will charge $75-100 for the trip to Shelter Bay Marina, and they most likely will not know how to get to Shelter Bay. (It involves either a ferry or a trip across the locks when the gates are closed between ship transits). (When the new bridge opens it will become much easier. We are told it will be “May, but we don’t know what year.”). For now the much better option is to take the express bus from Albrook Mall in Panama City ($3.15 to Colon) and then a taxi for $25 to Shelter Bay Marina. The Colon taxi drivers know the way to Shelter Bay. The only downside of that is that Colon is a very run-down city, and the bus station is located in a dangerous district. Much better to get off at an earlier stop (Avenida 13 is the last stop before the station.) There will be taxis everywhere. I have learned from another cruiser that Uber is a bit cheaper than a taxi for cross-isthmus travel, but they are also unlikely to know the way to Shelter Bay.

The third question, acceptable configurations, is important. Your agent will show you four diagrams of how you might be placed in the lock. You are allowed to reject one of the configurations, but you have to accept the other three. The configurations are (in no particular order) (1) by yourself, tied to the side of the lock; (2) tied to the side of a tug; (3) by yourself in the center of the lock; and (4) in a “nest” (raft-up) of 2-3 yachts in the center of the lock. Here are the advantages and disadvantages of each (that I can think of).

(1) Tied to the side of the lock. Advantage: not subject to pushes, pulls and personalities of other boats. Disadvantage: In turbulence, if your boat rocks or rolls, you could be subject to spreader damage against the side wall. Also sliding contact up or down wall of the lock. This option is probably the one to veto.

(2) Tied to the side of a tug: Advantage: Tug is presumably very knowledgeable about being secure, you’ll have no lines to the wall, and you’ll be protected from most turbulence once you’re attached. Disadvantage: the tug will be at work, and there will be times you’ll have to wait, tied up to a wall or to the buoy until the tug is ready for you. Potentially much more work for the line handlers.

(3) By yourself in the center of the lock: Advantage: Not subject to pushes, pulls and personalities of other boats. One boat is easier to control than three. Disadvantage: All four of your line handlers will be fully engaged with receiving the monkey fist from the canal workers, attaching the line, and adjusting it during lock operation.

(4) In a “nest”: Advantage: One of the boats (the center of three) will be in charge of moving, and a superior transit advisor will be aboard that boat, directing all three as to engine and steering state. If you are an outside boat, only two out of your four line handlers will interact with the canal workers. Disadvantage: Interacting with lots of other personalities, possible conflict between your own transit advisor and the controlling transit advisor. A mistake on one boat could affect all. This is a common configuration.

Thoughts about the transit:
The start of the transit will be a trip out of the Shelter Bay Marina and anchoring in “the flats”. (Be sure you have your wash down pump ready to go when it's time to up-anchor. The bottom is obnoxious mud infused with petroleum and sewage.) If you’ve been through the canal before, be aware “the flats” have moved. Erick had us out there 2 hours before the anticipated time the transit advisor would be brought out by pilot boat. But as it turns out, we were out there for 4 ½ hours before our transit advisor arrived. I believe the agent has no control over changes of schedule. We were told right away, upon our arrival in the flats, by “Cristobal Control” (Channel 12) that our pick-up time would be 1730, not 1500. On Craig’s first transit as a line handler, s/v Julia Max was told to be out there prior to 1630, but at 1545 the advisor came aboard saying “go, go go!” On that trip, the second day was scheduled late and they entered the last two locks at sunset and had to find the La Playita Marina in the dark. On Sequoia’s transit we got finished in daylight.

The overnight accommodation is tied to a large buoy in Lake Gatun. You’ll likely be sharing the buoy with one or two other boats. All need to be tied together and to the buoy; the transit advisor will help you figure that out before he leaves by pilot boat. Periodically you’ll get a wake from a passing freighter and all the boats will bob or roll at a different rate, stressing the lines and the fenders. Your transit advisor for the second day will show up at 8:30 or 9:00 am the next day.

Your friends may enjoy watching you go through the canal. There is a webcam in the highest Gatun lock, and even on the darkest night it’s possible to make out a yacht under the brilliant canal lights. There is also a webcam in the higher Miraflores lock. If you are paired in the Miraflores lock with a very long freighter, they may put the sailboats so far forward in the lock that you won’t be visible to the webcam. In the locks on the way up, the sailboats go in behind the freighter; in the locks on the way down, the sailboats go ahead of the freighter.

Webcams are found here:
If you do have friends watch, you might consider having them take lots of screenshots of you and save them for you. I’m not aware of any way to obtain those images after the fact.

Thoughts about lines: 4 lines of 125’ are required, and most cruisers rent them and fenders from the agent. The lines they supply are 7/8” 3-strand polypropylene blend. They need to go through cleats or chocks and the pull will be upward to the top of the wall. It is more convenient if they are led to a big winch, as they will need to be continuously taken in (going up) or let out (going down.) Two other lines may need to be supplied for springs to adjacent boats if rafted; these should be strong and low stretch, ½” double braid at an absolute minimum. On Craig’s first trip, as line handler, they were rafted to a larger boat with a marginal skipper who seemed unable to apply small fore/aft propulsion corrections, and he moved too hard astern, causing a poorly cleated spring line to slip free, then with several feet of slack overcompensated with full throttle forward, fetching up hard on the other spring and breaking his mid-ships cleat clean off. (It was aluminum, old and corroded.) Fortunately no one was injured.

Re the fenders, even if you have lots, renting their big ball fenders is recommended. You will end up with all available deployed.

If you are lucky and keep a sharp eye out, you may see alligators on the banks. This should perhaps discourage swimming in Lake Gatun while tied to the mooring buoy there overnight.
Vessel Name: Sequoia
Vessel Make/Model: Outbound 44
Hailing Port: Portland, Or
Crew: Craig & Barbara Johnston
We are the proud owners of S/V Sequoia, Outbound 44 hull #5, built for us in Shanghai, China in 2001. [...]
We care about the world and its people, and try to live responsible lives, mindful of ourselves, the places we travel to, and the people we meet. When we are away from home, we miss our sons and extended family, and try to get together as much as possible. And, dear reader, we look forward to [...]
Sequoia's Photos - Main
Putting Sequoia aboard the M/V Merwedegracht in Victoria, B.C.
3 Photos
Created 29 March 2017
Photos of our preparations to have Sequoia shipped by freighter from Victoria to Europe.
6 Photos
Created 13 March 2017