Costa Rica

The 12-day delay in Panama meant our remaining crew member was unable to stay on after we reached the Pacific Ocean. Our time together from Curacao to Panama had been so enjoyable, we were sad to say farewell just 700 shy of completing the mission.

However, a snug berth awaited us at Marina Papagayo in Costa Rica’s northern province of Guanacaste, less than an hour’s drive from the Nicaraguan border. With the canal already in our rear view mirror, Kevin and I set off to navigate 700 NM north following the Costa Rican coastline. We estimated the passage would take roughly four days.

Our initial introduction to Costa Rica came with a massive downpour that arrived out of nowhere. The storm was accompanied by enough lightening to keep my adrenaline pumping for the length of the trip. It had been over two years since we last sailed double-handed for this length of time. The weather report hadn’t signified anything to be alarmed about, but there it was, the trifecta— thunder, lightening, and a torrential deluge of rain. The storm passed as quickly as it appeared, and afterward we were treated to a sky full of stars.

As we approached the port of Gulfito, we suddenly had more to think about than the weather. Without warning, an engine alarm sounded. Unfortunately, the engine error message was too cryptic to understand the source of the problem. Kevin immediately switched off the engine, which meant we were forced to proceed under sail power alone, with virtually no breeze. The situation concerned us both, especially when we failed to reach anyone via VHF. On Sunday morning, we drifted toward the bay of Gulfito under sail at less than 2 knots per hour.

There was also a secondary issue at play. Despite being within range of the shore, I found I was unexpectedly without access to the internet connection via the mobile service on my phone. The four bars on my phone indicated I had telephone service, but I couldn’t access the internet making it impossible to source phone numbers for the marinas before us. If no one would answer the radio and we had no phone numbers to call, how could we get help? Neither of us were certain whether we could use the engine to anchor, let alone pull into a dock. The situation felt dire.

Before setting off from Panama, Kevin had been in contact with an agent at Banana Bay Marina. However, we couldn’t raise anyone on the VHF. After drifting around in the bay in sight of Banana Bay Marina, we decided to try the anchor. We ran the engine long enough to allow us to drop the anchor and settle securely in the bay. But now what? we asked ourselves.

We still had a further 400 NM to reach our destination. Without internet, it was impossible to research our options. Making it worse, we’d arrived on a Sunday. Good luck getting any help.

For now, we were safe. Tomorrow would be a new day, a fresh start. Or so we hoped.

In the morning, we found an angel in Gabrielle, our agent. She had heard our calls for assistance the day before, but had been too busy to answer. We later learned, April was a particularly hectic time of year. Anyone working in the marine industry was flat out doing double of whatever jobs they were assigned. Many people worked multiple jobs and double shifts.

When we finally spoke to Gabrielle, she took pity on us and organized for us to be first cab off the rank to get checked in to Cost Rica and have the boat inspected. She was good to her word and met us at 9.30 in the morning in her office. By noon, we were back on board Wild Spirit ready to test the engine again. In the meantime, I’d been able to sort out the internet issue and we were back online. Things were looking up.

We motored out of the mouth of the harbor without issue, but by the time we really needed the engine to round the headland, the alarm went off. Not good. Kevin and I discussed all of our options. We were not far enough off shore to be completely safe without an engine. We pulled out the flares, gathered our life vests and persisted on the radio trying to raise nearby boats.

For the next several days, the wind picked and died down again. The rain came and cleared. We traded off catching a few hours of sleep. The red sunsets should have been a good omen, but we didn’t feel confident about the engine. Kevin turned it on again every few hours. It started each time without issue, however, as soon as it warmed up, it rasped and sounded muffled. Then the alarm would sound.

It’s got to be the fuel, Kevin surmised. We ran through possible scenarios to troubleshoot the problem. I located the Yanmar manual and looked up the error message. The error code didn’t appear critical. The recommended solution to the error message was to keep the revs under 1800. With 100 NM to our destination, it would be slow going, but without any breeze to speak of, at least we’d be moving if we lost the breeze.

The sun dawned in spectacular fashion over the hills as if to welcome us to this new country. Grand homes began to appear on the steep hillside of Papagayo Peninsula. The trees appeared barren, the landscape dry. Even under the canvas Bimini, the vicious April heat scorched my skin. Despite it all, Marina Papagayo was a welcome sight. We arrive the morning of April 4th, four days after leaving Panama. Maybe the engine trouble was our April fools joke.

I’m happy to say, after months of research and deliberation, Kevin found the engine problem— bugs in the fuel. Fellow cruisers shared stories of similar experiences. Apparently bacteria in the fuel tanks can contaminate the fuel in the tropics. Kevin received good advice and Wild Spirit soon had two fresh tanks of clean fuel, a new filter and anti-bacterial solution for the tanks.

Apart from engine issues, we had only delightful experiences during our four months in Costa Rica. Unfortunately, like the ABC islands, we found Costa Rica was best explored by land. It wasn’t a problem to hire a car. We set off to the volcano, rainforest and cloud forest interiors, where there were a plethora of activities to keep us occupied, including volcanos, lakes, waterfalls, hiking, horse riding, white water rafting and other adventurous pursuits.

We enjoyed taking Wild Spirit out for day sails on regular basis around Papagayo Peninsula. We found a favorite anchorage off the Andaz Resort, where we swam and relaxed in the sun. By the time the torrential rains would threaten to dampen the afternoons, we could be quickly back in our snug berth.

We also took daily hikes around Papagayo, which gave us the opportunity to get close to the native wild life. We delighted in the sights and sounds of the Howler and Cappuccin monkeys, pizzotes, deer, and even foxes. We also were told that a breed of leopard roamed the peninsula. Given their nocturnal nature, we didn’t see one. But with such abundant food sources and lush rainforest, it wasn’t hard to imagine.

Over the season, we cruised as far south as Quepos. Although we enjoyed pleasant sailing experiences along the coast, by wet season, we were joined by alarming and unpredictable debris. Tree logs up to 60 feet long washed down the rivers with the seasonal rain and into the ocean. Dodging logs proved more a stressful and less fun way to spend our days. Despite the stunning bays, each anchorage we tried was quite rolly from the Pacific swell. The conditions made for long nights with little sleep.

On our return to Papagayo from Quepos, we received some rather alarming news from Dan, the marina manager. Cyclone Bonnie had formed from a recent tropical storm and was headed our way. June typically signalled the start of hurricane season in the Caribbean. It was unusual for cyclones to occur in lower latitudes, but Bonnie was gaining veracity and pointed in our direction. The forecast expected her to make landfall in the next 24 hours, giving us little time to prepare.

On arrival back in the marina, a handful of fellow cruisers had formed a friendly posse. With Bonnie on her way, it was all hands on deck. The marina management held an informational briefing and we all helped each other prepare.

By this time, we had become friendly with an Aussie/Canadian couple living in the marina suites. They invited us to stay the night in their apartment which would allow us to manage the lines, if necessary, from the dock. It was huge relief not to be faced with the worry of whether the storm would hit while we were onboard. The night before Bonnie was due, the four of us stayed up late playing games, drinking wine and laughing. The storm moved closer, but we watched Wild Spirit from the safety of a nearby apartment.

Bonnie was due to hit at six the following morning, but she turned out to be as illusive as the native Toucan the Costa Rican guide books promised we would see. By six in the morning, the bay was still as glass. The air was heavy with moisture, but still and calm. At the last minute, Bonnie diverted north to Nicaragua. Good news for us, but bad news for the Nicaraguans. Bonnie may have been the proverbial storm in a tea cup, but she offered an opportunity to prepare for something we hoped never to experience.

From a rain soaked start to a damp finish, Costa Rica welcomed us in so many new and unexpected ways.