February 28, 2014

We arrived here at 9am after an easy 2 am rounding of Cabo Frances Viejo, notorious for its adverse currents, strong winds and high seas. We're still benefitting from stalled tradewinds caused by a weather system to the north.

Entering Puerto del Valle you come into a north-facing bay with high, near vertical-walled mountains on the other three sides. But for the tropical vegetation on the mountains it has the feel of the fjords in Prince William Sound, Alaska, our home boating waters. At the head of the bay are two sand beaches separated by a lava flow that appears to have poured out of an enormous lava tube that has left a 40' tall cave that goes back into the mountain wall a short distance.

We dropped anchor nearer the eastern beach in 25' just outside the surf break, and Sherri made us some breakfast. As we were eating we noticed a dozen men preparing to launch a wooden dory through the surf. They ran it out and six of them piled in and began pulling furiously on the oars to clear the next set of breakers, which were running two to four feet. As they went a man in the stern was paying out a line that was tied to a tree at the back of the beach. They rowed out past us and continued out into the bay, still paying out line until they were about 300 meters off the beach when the line ended and he began paying out the net tied to it. The net itself was also about 300 meters long. At the midpoint of the net the rowers began curving the boat back toward the beach, paying out another 300 meters of line at the end.

As the boat got into the breakers, everyone bailed out into the water and ran the boat up on the beach, one man keeping control of the end of the line. Now all these guys and many more began pulling in both lines, each line of people grabbing onto their respective lines and slowly backing up the beach. There was so much resistance in the net that they could only take a step back about every 5 seconds or so. As each person at the high end of the line reached the treeline, he or she would drop the line and walk back to the waterline and once again take up the line. After about 20 minutes the ends of the net were within 100 meters of the beach and they re-launched the boat, six men it it. They rowed it out just beyond the surf break and then it became apparent they had the boat tied off to a long line ashore to hold it at that position. The men then took up each of the lines and kept pulling the net toward the boat and the beach. At this time three guys swam out off the beach an d swam to the leading corners of the net and began splashing, apparently to keep the fish inside from swimming out from the still-open mouth of the net. Even after the net ends reached the boat, these three stayed inside the purse of the net, driving the fish back into the bag of the net, and probably also keeping the fish from swimming to the surface and leaping out over the cork line.

Sherri and I had finally finished up our breakfast by this time and so we launched the dinghy and drove over with our camera. When we get to Puerto Rico we'll post photos of this operation. Eventually, the net made it to the boat and the men kept on hauling until it was all in. We were right there and it looked to us like they only brought in fish under 12", and not even that many, perhaps 100 to 150 small fish. The whole time the crew were shouting to us and posing for the camera and calling for beer. They rowed back to the beach and ran their boat in through the surf.

We decided to hit the beach ourselves, but we figured it would be easiest if we anchored outside the surf break and swam in, so we rounded up in the right place, dropped the anchor and got ready to bail in. Then we noticed the anchor was dragging, and we were rapidly getting into the break line. Before we managed to get the motor down and get hold of the anchor line, we were in it and got hit by a 4' breaker that tossed us out of the boat and carried the boat in toward the beach. Sherri got hit by the motor in the wash and I lost my favorite Serengeti sunglasses. The dinghy was fine, floating about 1/2 full of water, and Toby was swimming for the beach. We were basically fine, and several of the fishermen and women ran over and helped us drag the dinghy up the beach. We were all laughing and checking ourselves for further injuries. I went back into the water and began looking for my beloved sunglasses and several kids and fishermen came out and helped me look. It was actually fun, as we either dove under the waves or just jumped into them as they swept in. We never did find the sunglasses, but several of the kids kept looking long after I gave up.

When we settled down and began talking to people on the beach, one of the fishermen and his wife, who spoke a little English, warned us that Taiga was anchored far too close to the beach, because if the wind went around to the north during the night the waves entering the bay would break 15 to 20 feet high right where we were anchored in 25' of water. They said if we would anchor another 200 meters out, we'd be safe. They also insisted we tell the other American boat that had come in and anchored even closer to the beach than us. So, with their help we relaunched our dinghy through the surf and motored over and introduced ourselves to David Cross, who was singlehanding his trawler-style cruiser back up to Florida. He was reluctant to move, but did, and so did we. We then picked David up in our dinghy and headed back to the beach, this time driving in on the back of one of the bigger waves. Several of the fishermen met us as we grounded on the receding wave and grabbed on and helped us run the dinghy high up the sand.

Besides the dozen or so wooden dories on the beach, there are two palapa restaurants which had 20 or so bikini-clad tourists enjoying their beers and fish. We were escorted up to one by the couple who had helped us when we swamped and were shown into the cooking area and offered some of the just-caught fresh fish, fried potatoes, fried bananas (or plantains, our choice), rice, salad, beer, juice, or a straw into a coconut. We picked out a nice sized red snapper to split between Sherri and I, and asked for fried bananas and rice. David didn't want to eat, but we all had a fresh coconut. The fish was excellent, and we enjoyed our meal very much. We had brought a box of various packaged snacks ashore to pass out to the kids, as well as a couple of small bottles of rum for the fishermen. All these were enthusiastically received, and we shared more laughs at our expense for our fine demonstration of how not to come through the surf in a dinghy.

During our lunch the fishermen had once again laid out their net in the bay, and were dragging it toward the beach. This time, though, they brought it all the way onto the beach. We walked over with some of the other tourists on the beach and lent a hand, pulling hard on the ropes. The whole time there was lots of banter and some people would drop out to take a break or others would come in and take a hold, including a bunch of kids. Eventually the net came onto the beach and this time it had a bunch of Spanish mackerel, or Sierras. The biggest one was about 3' long and there were another dozen or so of 18 to 24 inches, along with maybe 100 smaller fish of various species. These fish were then distributed to the locals, probably according to some formula or custom. Discovering that was beyond our Spanish language limits, and the English speakers in the group couldn't quite figure out the question. They did indicate that when excess fish were caught, they were sold.

By 5pm we were whipped from our overnight travel and the day's exertions, so we ran the dinghy back out through the surf and fell asleep watching a video on the Mac.

We spent Friday, February 28 aboard in Puerto del Valle, resting up for the next leg, across the Mona Passage. We estimate this is a 24 hour run from here, so we alternately napped and did small projects all day, then watched a movie before bed.