At 2AM on 12/24, Mexican Immigration representatives walked to our slip while soldiers of the Mexican Navy pulled up by boat to accommodate our request for a 3AM departure. By flashlight in the cockpit, immigration processed paperwork while the Navy took their drug-sniffing dog for one final tour of Traveler. With a departing, "Thank you for visiting Mexico," well wishes for our continued travel and a round of friendly fist bumps, we pulled away from Chiapas, our final stop in Mexico, at 2:45AM.
Our next stop would be Bahia del Sol, El Salvador. Entering the estuary of Bahia del Sol requires a level of timing unlike any of our arrivals thus far due to a sand bar crossing that can only be negotiated in daylight at high tide. High tide on our anticipated arrival date of 12/26 was 7:15AM. A pilot boat is required to make the crossing, which we were instructed to meet at 13º 16.6' North Latitude - 88º 53.7' West Longitude at 7AM.
We calculated this passage to be 225 miles, and we generally aim for a 4.5 knot average on a deadline passage whether sailing (preferred), motor-sailing (less preferred) or motoring (least preferred).
We departed Chiapas on Christmas Eve, and we were off the Guatemalan coastline by the time midnight introduced Christmas Day. To our surprise, at the stroke of midnight, a series of individual firework displays connected the dots between Guatemalan towns along an otherwise dark coastline.
With the assistance of some fair winds along the way, we arrived to our way point in El Salvador at 3:30 AM. We anchored one mile farther offshore and waited for sunrise. We were well aware that the bar crossing could be a rocky ride and as the hours passed, the sound of surf crashing in the darkness certainly added a bit of excitement.
At 7:15 a VHF call indicated that our pilot boat was on her way. Traveler was buttoned up in anticipation of taking on waves. Lee cloths surrounded the cockpit, our companion way boards were in place and the hatches were secured. The time for the crossing had arrived. Traveler has a six-foot draft, which means that the bottom of her keel rests six feet below the water surface. As we followed the pilot boat, bobbing and weaving our way across the bar, our depth sounder teased us forward with successive readings: 20', 15', 10', 9'. With only three feet of clearance, images of being stuck on a sandbar at high tide begin to creep in, and it's never a pretty picture. As the depth sounder numbers slowly reversed upward, the pilot's voice came over the radio, "That's it. We've crossed the bar."
Given the potential challenges associated with the Bahia del Sol crossing, ours was smooth. The waves and swell bobbed us along, but not once did they crash upon our deck. Feeling relieved, we approached the dock inside the estuary where we were greeted by line-catchers, smiles and three glasses of cold orange juice. "Welcome to El Salvador!"
This is a two-part El Salvador post. Next up: Celebrating Light and the 69th Cistern.
That video was so cool. You need to do more. I like calm seas. 😂.