Pura Vida!

Costa Rica has been a dream!
Our favorite area of Costa so far has been the Gulfo de Papagayo. This area is a cruisers paradise and nightmare depending on the time of year. We got lucky and were able to stay and explore the area since the Papgayo Season, when the winds blow incredibly hard, had just ended! We explored the Murcielegos islands and of course the Oh so famous, Ollie’s Point and Witches rock! We spent five days anchored in a private cove surfing Ollie‘s Point all by ourselves. Every morning we would get up and get a surf session in before the pangas arrived with their boats full of surfers. The water was warm, the waves were fun and best of all we were all alone with our boat just a few yards away. Making our way up into the gulf of Nicoya we had amazing sailing, went on jungle hikes, saw Howler Monkey’s and snorkeled. The rainy season has just begun so we get squalls that come through almost every after noon with the most amazing thunder clouds that wash everything off and cool us down. It is amazingly beautiful here! The hills are green and lush, the ocean is the most beautiful color blue and the colors of the sky are unbelievable. Maybe it is because we are going home so soon but everything seems to look, smell and feel better than ever. We could not have asked for a better past few weeks.
This week though, has been though has been somewhat more of a never ending marathon. Having had little to no strict schedule for the last seven months has made it difficult to face the reality that the trip was slowly coming to an end. Time was running out and we had only a few days to get to Puntarenas and haul Gaviota out of the water. Pulling into Puntarenas and leaving the pristine untouched islands and coast that we had been exploring behind was really difficult. Puntarenas is aesthetically not to impressive. It is dirty, polluted, crowded, incredibly hot and has this lingering smell that never seems to fade.
We spent the first two days after we arrived cleaning out every cabinet with bleach, taking down sails, cleaning the bilge, lines and engine, packing our clothes to go home and deciding what food we could save and giving the rest to Chici the local panga driver. We could barely move to swat the no-see-ums off us by the end of the days. With almost everything done it was time to haul Gaviota out of the water and tuck her in for the next six months. As we sat and watched Gaviota get slowly hauled out of the water we realized our heads are just as blurred with emotion, fear and wonder as the day we left Santa Barbara. The feelings come from somewhere different this time because we are no longer as scared that we cant handle the sea and the weather and we no longer have doubts about the trip. Now the fear is of what it will be like to go home and the emotions come from reminiscing over all our experiences.
Sailing through these countries has been so humbling and has shown us how important it is to appreciate and be grateful for everything you have. The majority of the people we have encountered in Central America live on so much less than the average American. Less water, food, education and opportunities, but they never stop smiling and they always welcome you with curious faces and open hands. The images of children in El Salvador hauling water from a local well in old anti-freeze bottles, or the homes in the small villages of Nicaragua that consist of a dirt floor and palm frond roofs will never be erased from our memories. They have left us with such a great appreciation for how others live and for what we have been blessed with. Of all the lessons learned from this trip from sailing tactics and weather predictions to patience and tolerance the one lesson that I know we will never forget or question is how important it is to be conscious of our footprint, impact on the world. Living on a sailboat has been a great way of forcing us to waste nothing and not to consume more than we need. At first not having access to fresh water, food or electricity was a burden and annoying but the further into the trip we got and the more we saw how people lived in these countries we realized what a luxury it was to have these items at all. It has been so refreshing to see how content and happy people are with what they have and it had definitely rubbed off on us!
For the next six months we won’t have days of panga’s driving by singing and waving, or constant adventures filled with surfing new waves, meeting new people and exploring new places. We wont fall asleep to the crashing waves and Howler monkeys conversing in the jungles. We will go back to our “normal” lifestyle for a while and slowly fall back into the routine we knew all so well. It will give us time to reflect on the memories of Mexico and Central America that have changed our lives and opened our eyes to what is out there. We will always remember surviving our first gale, catching our first big Yellowtail, surfing remote waves and hanging out with the other cruisers. But the most colorful memories will be of the local people we met and their way of life!
PURA VIDA!

Nicaragua Travels!

Nicaragua!!!!!

Every building, street, smile, handshake and home of Nicaragua seems to hold a story like a secret just dying to be told. We have visited many countries each having its own unique history, culture and identity but we have never experienced a country quite like Nicaragua. Not even a language barrier could stop us from understanding the pain and suffering that once plagued this country. Less than 20 years ago Nicaragua had been amidst a civil war. The memories pain and aftermath of the war are still present in many areas but in the peoples smiles and cities you can feel nothing but strength, vibrance and new hope.

We spent a little under a week exploring the inland areas of Granada, Isla Ometepe on Lake Nicaragua and Leon. Each place left us more impressed than the next. We visited the oldest Cathedral in Central America, War Museums, hiked to a crater lake at the top of a volcano, and ate at local restaurants on colonial streets. We loved ,loved, loved Nicaragua!!! The people, colors, food, noises, markets are enough to make your head spin and your eyes sting. Their is such an explosion of life buzzing in and out of every little crack that you have to stop yourself every few moments, close your eyes and remember where you are.

Hiking to the top of a volcano and Brandon’s barber shop extravaganza are memories we always reflect on. But of all our experience in Nicaragua the one memory we constantly find ourselves reflecting on and the one I think we will cherish the most is the simple journey of our bus ride back to the marina. I say simple but a bus ride in Central America is something you have to experience first hand to truly understand!

We had one more two hour bus ride back to the marina before we could officially call our inland trip of Nicaragua a success. We scrambled out of the grocery store after delaying the whole line because they didn’t take credit cards and we didn’t have any Cordoba’s. A reoccurring problem with us! We bought as many groceries as we could carry considering it had been weeks since our last grocery store and it would probably be just as long until our next one. Fifteen minutes early for the bus we were positive we would find plenty of room for our groceries, huge backpacks and of course us. Wrong! The bus was not only crowded already but practically full. I must explain that these buses are no air conditioned Grey hound. They are old yellow school buses from the U.S. We pushed our way past the fat cranky bus driver and began our attempt to load about fifteen grocery bag and our huge backpacks in the rack above peoples heads. I thought that every one would think we were crazy but as it turned out it looked like common procedure. Brandon ended up sitting in the very front row and still had thirteen plus people standing in front of him. I was a few rows back with boxes of milk and six packs on my lap sitting next to another lady and her child. We sat parked, drenched in sweat and packed into this bus for nearly forty minutes before the fat cranky bus driver decided he had shoved enough papas fritas into his mouth to start the engine. There were a minimum of three people to a seat and every square inch of standing room on the bust was occupied. The bus like all chicken buses stopped about every other block to see if they could squeeze just one more person on. These stops also allow for women and children to try and maneuver their way through the cramped aisles to sell food and drinks. Complete Chaos! It was way past being hot, sweaty and annoyed so Brandon and I decide to take it all in, sit back and do the only thing we could laugh!

We found the patience the people on the bus had amazing. At home when you are sitting next to someone if you even tap their elbow you get the invasion of privacy glare and these people were practically dirty dancing they were so close to each other and no one blinked an eye. The lady next to me spoke no English and I tried to convey to her that I spoke very little Spanish but that didn’t seem to matter to her. For the next three hours she talked to me non stop and I tried my hardest to decipher some of it but in all reality I was pretty lost. The universal language of a smile and head nod seemed to be all she needed to continue on though. We hadn’t eaten anything before we got on and were starving but that posed to be no problem. By the time we had gotten to the marina I think every food item available in Nicaragua had been managed to find its way down the crowded aisle of the bus. We bought some pastries from a little girl about half way through and decided to stay away from some of the scarier items like ice cream that never seemed to melt!

The best part of the bus trip was once we had gotten far enough out of the city and were in the rural villages. That is where we got to really experience first hand how these people get their food to survive. Suddenly hauling our fifteen grocery bags of food back to the marina seemed like less of a chore and more of a luxury. The bus would unload huge bags of rice and beans that were stacked on the top of the bus to villages. The man in charge of loading and off-loading everything had the most charismatic smile. He seemed to be best friends with every family and every passenger . He made jokes, flirted and had lengthy conversations with all the women who waited on the side of the road to make sure they were getting what they ordered. We speculated that the bags of rice, grain and beans these ladies were collecting were shared with entire villages. Their were also ladies carrying bags of live squawking chickens that they had bought in town. It was fascinating to watch how the people of these rural villages carried through their typical Monday marketing. For the first time in Nicaragua we felt as if we fit in with the locals and were not just American tourists. We may be traveling different paths in life but in those three hours we were all crammed on the same bus with the same mission. Getting our food home in one piece!!!!

The Forgotten Middle

The Forgotten Middle
Culture, history breathtaking scenery and most of all the smiling faces have made Nicaragua our most colorful experience so far. We have seen and experienced so much in this wonderful country in the small amount of time we have been here. Before we tell you our stories about Nicaragua we want to share about a place we consider our little gem. This place turned out to be what we have been looking to see, experience, touch and feel ever since the day we pulled Gaviota away from the dock in Santa Barbara.
On the map it is called the Bay of Fonseca but it is more commonly referred to by sailors as the Forgotten Middle. It is a bay that touches its lapping waters upon the shores of El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua. The island Conchunguita sits in the Forgotten Middle and is owned by El Salvador but very much has its own identity.
As we slowly motored around the lush volcanic island we felt as if we could have been arriving in Alaska or Hawaii. The hill sides that have been mainly brown down the coast of Mexico had finally turned to lush and green as we watched them jet straight out of the ocean to form a volcanic peak. As we first rounded the island it looked as if no one inhabited it and we predicted we may be alone out here. Our prediction was quickly corrected as we turned the corner to find a city no larger than one city neighborhood block. We immediately noticed that the town was composed of nice small homes. Not the typical mud and palm frond huts of the area. They were sturdy and durable, made of concrete.
Unable to unglue our eyes and thoughts from the possibilities and stories that belonged to this tiny unvisited island, we fumbled the anchor into the mud bottom below and silenced the repetitive rumble of the engine. As we sat and listened to the workings of the town I think we may have felt similar to what a newborn baby might feel when they first enter the world. Frightened but safe, over stimulated but curious. Their were so many noises emanating from the shore compared to the repetitive workings of our diesel. There was one sound that distinctly stood out among the roosters, cows, pangas and as were to find out later even the slaughtering of a families swine. It was the singing and clapping of children! Muffled behind the towns everyday symphony of sounds were the voices of children rising up into the lush hills and out over the sea to our ears. They sang beautiful songs in unison for at least an hour as we sat and smiled feeling as if we had arrived in paradise. In all the anchorages we have dropped our hook at this is by far the most special welcome we have ever had!
The next few days at Conchunguita many children in dug out canoes came out to our boat to greet us. They were so happy and interested in us. We gave them the last of all our chocolate, baby clothes and school supplies. The first two boys that rowed out to our boat got the luckiest when it comes to gifts! Brandon gave one boy a skateboard deck ,generously donated to the trip by Alex White, and gave the other boy one of his last Brandon Yates hats. It was so special to see how excited they were to get real gifts and not baby clothes or a chocolate bar. Later we towed another dugout canoe of about five boys into the beach behind our skiff and they couldn’t stop laughing. When we got to the beach they all jumped out and along with two little girls helped us carry our skiff up to dry land. They showed us around town and then in our broken Spanish and their broken English we communicated that we wanted to go on a hike. There was one boy of the four that led the way. We walked on a random dirt road along the circumference of the volcanic island for a few hours. We stopped to share our water, look at snakes and try our hardest to have a conversation with the boys. We had given them all pads of paper that had the alphabet and some English words inside the front cover and during the hike all of them were practicing saying letters and words in English. It was the best feeling to see how grateful and appreciative these kids were just for a pad of paper. When we got back from the hike we said our goodbyes and thank you’s and went back to our boat. We were visited a few hours later by the little boy who took us on the hike and his family. They just wanted to say hi again. We invited the little boy on our boat and showed him our maps and electronics, gave them a few more gifts and said our goodbyes. That night we sat in the cockpit and looked at the lights of the little town and tried to store all of our memories so we would never forget this place.
What ever the true reason may be for nicknaming the Bay of Fonseca the Forgotten Middle we are confident this is one place never to be forgotten by us. Gaviota has for the first time since our departure reached the destination we have envisioned to find since the beginning of this dream. Gaviota was blessed to visit this tiny island that keeps its home safely tucked away in the waters of the Forgotten Middle. We will always be indebted to Conchunguita for showing us the beauty and simplicity of isolation that still exists out here!