Slow Dance to Portobelo

After 11 weeks in Le Marin waiting, the anchor finally came up and Sunny Spells once again pointed her bow west — bound for Portobelo, Panama, with 1,268 miles of Caribbean Sea ahead and a generous weather window on offer.

Departure day was textbook. Moderate 10 to 18 knot tradewinds from behind and a comfortable sea made for a spirited start. It was just Maria and me this time, running our tried-and-tested 6-hour shifts from the Indian Ocean crossing. The waxing moon offered a silver trail westward, and Starlink meant we could share our sunset in real-time. Not bad, this 21st-century sailing.

From the outset, conditions were dreamy: consistent wind, a favourable Equatorial Current giving us up to 2 knots over the ground, and day after day of fast, comfortable sailing. For nearly 900 miles, we didn’t so much as touch a sail. It was one of those rare passages where the log fills itself and the only thing left to do is eat, nap, adjust the firmware, and debate whether we’re going too fast to bother fishing.

We passed the ABC islands — Bonaire, Curaçao, Aruba — by night, crossing the halfway point near Curaçao. A brief spell of stronger winds brought lively conditions, with short, steep seas slapping over the transom and the odd ankle-deep reminder that the Caribbean can get punchy when it wants to. But it didn’t last.

By Day 6 the wind began to slacken. Slowly at first — just enough to make us fiddle with sails and debate genoa swaps — and then, by Day 7, to the point where the main sail flopped helplessly in the swell and had to be bagged. We drifted with the staysail poled out and made the best of a gentle ride under a full moon. Even in 1.4 knots of apparent wind, we made 50 miles overnight. We called it a win.

Eventually, the engine was summoned to balance the batteries and encourage our progress. A tangled lump of Sargassum offered some brief drama on the prop, but reverse cleared it. Three hours later we were back under sail — exactly the same sail plan as before, as if nothing had happened.

With light winds and flat seas, Sunny Spells entered her element: beam reaching in 6–8 knots, perfectly balanced, sliding along at 5–6 knots like a content cat. The only job left was to switch out sails — the poled-out downwind rig was retired after a heroic run, and we bent on the big #2 genoa and full main for the final reach into Panama.

The last 24 hours were perhaps the most idyllic of the lot: blue skies, glassy sea, and enough breeze to keep us moving without disturbing the peace. We crossed the last hundred miles slowly, enjoying the ride. Then, just to keep us sharp, the final approach stiffened up with gusts to 18 knots and a brisk reach across the busy approach lanes to the Panama Canal.

Anchoring in the dark in an unfamiliar bay — full of unlit obstructions, naturally — was a fitting finale. But we dropped hook safely in the still waters of Portobelo and cracked open our long-overdue anchor beers. The slow dance is over. We’ve made it across another sea.

Great Keppel Island – Days 2 and 3…we think

Things are getting tough round here – we are having difficulty remembering which day of the week it is and when exactly it was that we arrived …and then concluded it really didn’t matter and quite frankly wasn’t relevant! That aside, I’m pretty sure this is our fourth night and third complete day at Great Keppel Island.

We spent yesterday (as predicted) snorkelling and swimming, looking for crabs in rock pools, games of frizbee, gleefully diving off your dad’s shoulders, and a quick geology lesson from Dad about the local topography and quartz formation (which the boys confirmed from their personal knowledge based on the game ‘Minecraft’!).

In my effort to ensure that ‘everyone gets plenty of fresh air and exercise’ I suggested we explore a bit. I’d collected a map from the island’s pub the day before (or was it the day prior to that? Who knows…). We walked from the end of Svenson’s Beach up and over the saddle into the adjacent bay. Stunning views and more of the clearest pure water. Oscar, ever keen to climb every blasted rock face we encounter was appeased by Gerhard suggesting that we scramble to the top of the peak. I will at this point in time clarify that the map I had in my back pocket was not consulted by either (ir)responsible parent, and on inspection later in the day did not at any time suggest that there was a footpath up this headland. Off we all trotted and started scrambling – the ‘mountain goat Oscar’ taking off whilst being reprimanded by his mother for using plant material as a sensible handhold. I then realised that the scrappy vegetation was the only thing available to grab and was a lot more stable than the rock face. Little Hugo, apprehensive and more wary despite his bravado, came up gingerly with Gerhard at the rear. There was a yelp, scrabbling feet and a falling of rocks – and Hugo’s little voice called out ‘are you ok Daddy?’. Dear God, I thought, please let him be safe – there is no way down from here other than by a violent and awful descent. He was fine and on we went to all reach the top and find….a lot of bloody scrappy trees. A lovely view admittedly, but Gerhard and I just silently looked at each other and wondered whether we hadn’t just been a bit daft. Anyway, the kids were fine – thought it was marvellous sport that daddy had a big stick and was bashing his way through the undergrowth to try and pick us a way back down to the beach. Completely oblivious to the fact that he and I were thinking ‘argh! snakes!’ They sang songs such as ‘if you’re happy and you know it bash a tree!’ etc and copied Daddy’s actions with their own big sticks. I was quite glad to be able to walk back on the sandy beach at the end of that little debacle.

Our other encounters with nature yesterday were a little more gentle. The water is so very clear here, it’s like swimming in a pool. As the dinghy motors on we see rays hiding in the sand under the boat, just their outline and their eyes peering out in an almost ghostly appearance. And then as we came back across the bay for our final swim of the day – there was Mr Dugong: quietly gliding through the water, coming up and then diving down again. Gerhard went off with the snorkel to follow him – but he missed him – I got to enjoy watching him potter about the bay from my perch on the shore.

After a long and bouncy night, with the waves rolling in on to the beam side of the boat, we went off to explore the island further…following the map and beautifully marked footpaths!

Only wild goats and beautiful blue and white butterflies were our companions today. Oscar as ever entranced by walking through a cloud butterflies and trying to get them to land on him. We walked across to Butterfish Bay (the boys scrambling up steep sand dunes) and beyond to Wreck Beach – which was wild, windy and empty but for us, and reminded me of my walks on the Gower in South Wales. We walked through bush land, looking back through to the far side of the island, confident that we were the only people to be there enjoying the view today. We arrived back at the beach to our dinghy four hours later – the boys still chatting (and chatting) even after all of the walking…

We finished the day with swimming (gorgeously nude for the boys) on ‘our’ beach – all to ourselves – again.

And tonight is looking like it’s going to be another windy night as the boat rolls and I listen to the wind howling through the rigging. Time for bed …

Hervey Bay – Rooney Point – Lady Musgrave Island

We set sail again on the Friday for Rooney Point at the northernmost tip of Fraser Island. A wonderful day for sailing – and again and again we are treated to turtles and dolphins, and the elegant humpback whales sharing the ocean with us.

The boys climbed sand dunes and played in the waves – we were all by ourselves but for the pelicans sitting at the water’s edge and whales gracefully passing by into the bay.

The boys have been brilliant. Happy and enthusiastic – and so reveling in time with their father, and in our time as a family. We have to take it in turns to see who sits next to daddy each mealtime. The loser gets the booby-prize..mum!! Gerhard looks relaxed and tanned …. and I look as if I’ve been let out on day-release from the leprosy colony! 🙂 The aftermath of the sand fly attack has 10 days later all but disappeared.

As we travelled to Lady Musgrave Island (a 4.30AM start and arriving just before sunset) there was no wind, so a tedious day of slowly motoring along – rolling with over the swell and Hugo lethargic with seasickness. Today’s sightings again included acrobatics by dolphins, whales, turtles, birds, marlin and some flying fish – much to Oscar’s delight. He sits out there at the front of the boat with his dad and chats about I’m not sure what – for hours.. 🙂

Tuna! Gladstone…

We left Lady Musgrave before sunrise this morning, heading for Gladstone where we will sit out first a string northerly, followed by strong southerlies, all kicked up by the nasty East Coast Low heading for Sydney.

Having thus far been spectacularly unsuccessful on the fishing front, I had replaced the line and lure (blaming my equipment!). Around 10AM we had a bite, and a fight on our hands. Sitting under the dinghy hanging from the davits, I finally landed the beast, much to the boys’ excitement. Redeemed myself! My ego was further boosted hearing Oscar tell his friend on the phone later “and you know what else is awesome about my dad?”!