Coffee In the Mist

I don't know if coffee is a sacred drink in any culture, but it does have its fair share of reverent devotees, a group to which I can wholeheartedly say I belong. My mornings would not be the same without it. My day begins with the sound of grinding and the kettle being plopped down on our little alcohol stove. The aroma of brewing gets my brain functions set to go and my first sip is almost always accompanied by an “ahhhh.”

So when Chris and I wanted to take a few days off of the boat to explore inland Costa Rica, we decided to go into the mountains and check out Monteverde. The region is known as a cloud forest, a high altitude rainforest featuring dense, moss and bromeliad covered trees and lots of wildlife. And, most importantly, it's where coffee grows, nestled in the steep valleys.

Having most recently hailed from near the famous wine-producing region of the Napa, Sonoma and Alexander valleys, it seemed natural to want to head out to the source of a favorite beverage, learn about it's peculiarities and taste the fruit of the labor that goes into it. Coffee, like wine grapes, grows in particular regions. It thrives only in the tropics and at specific altitude. Monteverde has these desired traits, and thus coffee is it's main agricultural commodity. We opted first for the eponymous Monteverde coffee tour, and we made arrangements for the tour as soon as we got into town.

We were picked up at the tourist center in Santa Elena and driven a little way down into the valley to the farm of a gentleman named Don Juan. The tour had only four people, myself, Chris and two young women, plus our tour guide, Alex. Don Juan showed us his processing area where he removed the husks of the coffee cherries, soaked and dried them before transporting the beans to the co-op to which he and many of the other farmers belong. He had a hand cranked machine that popped the beans out from the fruit and he could do a couple of kilos in a few minutes. Then he showed us around his property. Along with coffee, he grew bananas, tomatoes, herbs and some other fruits. It is harvest season, so we picked a few cherries that were ripe on the coffee bushes. I think between the four of us we picked almost enough to make one cup of coffee. We finished up at his little house nestled among beautiful flowering plants for a cup of coffee and delicious fresh baked banana bread.

After the farm, we went to the Monteverde store and coffee shop where Alex showed us their roaster and we sampled the different roasts. We chatted with him a little about Costa Rican history, Fair Trade and the co-op and bought some coffee on the way out.

After bopping around town for a day or so, getting rained on and looking for wildlife, we stopped off at a coffeeshop called the Common Cup. Or rather, I should say we walked into a revolution. The three owners there are starting a farm-to-cup business, and their excitement is infectious. They're coffee farmers that decided to buck the co-op system to grow, process, roast and sell their coffee themselves, without middlemen. The Common Cup is their roasting space and you get a great cup of coffee there, but most of all it serves as a way to meet their potential long-term customers. They are shipping directly to anyone in the U.S., and with competitive prices. So the model is: you go to Costa Rica, visit this great coffee house, and want to take a piece of it home with you. Buy some coffee, love the coffee, and order it online when you get home. It's a way for the farmers to make a better living and for customers to get great coffee because the farmer/roaster/seller has more of a stake in making his product excellent. Chris and I were so taken with their whole shebang that we signed up for their tour the next morning, and stayed for an hour or so that evening to watch the roasting process.

The farm tour the next day was amazing. We drove down into the San Rafael area, about 20 kilometers from Santa Elena, to visit the Santa Marta farm. It's an incredible place. Using many sustainable practices, the farm grows coffee, sugar cane, a few other crops and has pigs, horses and chickens. The pigs' waste and fermented coffee skins produce methane that the home uses for cooking. Hardly any water is wasted during the coffee processing, as the washing water is recycled for further use. Greenhouses are used to dry the coffee, and to produce some hydroponic crops. The coffee plants themselves were lush and beautiful, planted on shaded hillsides in tidy rows. Our guide was both knowledgeable and inspiring, talking about how the coffee industry has influenced Costa Rica over time. Again, we were invited into the owner's home and given coffee and baked goods. In the humble kitchen there was a spirit of love and dedication that was nearly palpable, and we felt lucky to witness it.

Back to the Future

On my first assignment in the Coast Guard, the USCGC Campbell, we sometimes spent over three weeks in a row at sea and up to 3 months away from our homeport. Towards the end of my time there, after I knew that I was transferring to California and after I'd started dating a certain someone, I grew incredibly restless. The ship, whether through work or play, had a way of inserting itself into your life. You were kept busy enough that it was hard to get involved in much in the way of hobbies. It wouldn't have been impossible, and there is no one to blame but myself, but I just didn't develop much during those years. Since I was leaving, my responsibilities had been whittled down to mere supervision. I had a ton of time to think about my future. So, lots of time led to a few ideas bouncing around in my head, which I can't handle for very long before doing something about them. Before the patrol was over I had paid for half of a 1968 Hunter 25 sloop, located in South San Francisco. I didn't have any idea how to sail, but I'd learn. Amanda and I had also decided to move in together in San Francisco. She'd already driven out to Los Angeles and was living with her best friend there. I didn't have any idea how to live with a girlfriend, but I'd learn that, too. Some nights I'd try to sleep, only to lay there awake for hours thinking. Change was in the air.

Skip forward five and a half years and here we are, on a boat, thinking about our futures. For the past three years this has been our goal. We worked, saved and sailed in order to be where we are today. We were “the boat people.” Within five minutes of meeting someone it would invariably come up. Whether someone asked where we lived, what we did for fun, or what we had for breakfast, the fact that we lived on a boat and had a plan to sail her always came up. We were proud of it. I'm still proud of it.

So far this trip has been everything we thought it would be, and more. The “everything we thought” part has been great, surfing, diving, traveling, new people, new foods, new cultures. More, as in some of it has been a challenge. We might have under-estimated the strains of traveling as far as we have set out to; especially without an auto-helm. I'm not going to say that no one told me so, but someone should have grabbed me by the scruff and said “Boy, put an auto-helm onboard, don't be a dummy!” That, and a few other things that I had looked at as unnecessary luxuries (like shade and ice). But, we've been able to live without traffic, rude people (almost), cell phones, most of our clothes, the daily drivel of the news and all the other “benefits” that 21^st century life brings us. It's been a period in our lives without distractions. Things are rarely crystal clear, but right now it's pretty close. I think that without this time I might have jumped right into the next job that came my way. It might have worked out, or it might have led me to back into the woods. I got out of the Coast Guard because no one was going to grant me 270 days of leave to sail Central America. But, there were other reasons that have more to do with what I want to accomplish and become. It was a job I loved, but staying in meant moving up the chain and giving up the bits that made me happy.

So, while no one is relieving us of our duties or officially transferring us to our next assignment, we are spending time on what's next. What is next? We'll save that for later. But, it feels a bit silly to be on a boat off the coast of Panama on a beautiful, sunny day talking about what kind of puppy we might want, what kitchen utensils we'll need and what life will be like when we have to wear more clothes.

Rainy Days

We've caught up with rain, or rain has caught up with us. After the increasingly cloudy skies of Costa Rica erupted with a crazy lightning and rainstorm last week, we had a few days of sunshine then it down-poured last night and is drizzling today. It smells like a greenhouse here, fertile and damp. It's slightly melancholic, as rain will be, but also refreshing and renewing. And couldn't we all do with some renewal? Now if only we could get all the leaks to stop...

We are anchored out in Golfito, the last port in southern Costa Rica. It's an old banana port, a sort of "company town" and is still struggling to economically recover from when the corporations pulled out, years ago. It's situated on the Golfo Dulce, a bay surrounded mostly by steep, jungly hills. As Chris mentioned, there is a world class surf spot (actually two) at the mouth of the bay, and the Corcovado National Park on the north side. Golfito itself isn't a tourist hang-out, there aren't any fancy resorts around or eco-hotels dotting the hills, but it's a nice place to have the boat. It boasts a calm anchorage and the use of the generous services of Land and Sea, a cruisers' club/tour company that is a very welcome stop. With a well-stocked book exchange, morning coffee, and a convenient dinghy dock (not to mention the company of fellow boat folk), it's about all a wayward sailor could want.

Well, that and a little sunshine. After all, I've got laundry to dry.

Making Do

If there's anything these last couple of weeks have taught us, its that's sometimes you just have to make it work. A solution might not be pretty, or orthodox, but it can be found. Upon arriving in Puntarenas, we had some issues, engine issues, engine leaking fluid issues. We didn't know how big they would be, if we would be able to afford them, or how long they'd take. We had a few scary conversations of what we would do if our repairs cut into our cruising fund too much for us to continue and finish our journey. Scary thoughts, but when you don't know the extent of needed repairs, the imagined price tag looms large.

We knew we needed new batteries, the old ones were not keeping up a great charge and we also had lead acid and sealed gel batteries, an imperfect charging situation. We knew there was a giant crack in the thermostat housing, which Chris had repaired at sea with epoxy, but it needed a solid fix. We knew we needed either a repair to our alternator or a new one. We knew we had an oil leak, from somewhere...

Our new mutant heat exchanger

We enlisted the help of William Medina the mechanic. After a first glance at our engine he gave us a reassuring “no problem.” Perhaps there was a language barrier. When we think of “no problem,” it sounds like “wham bam, back on the trail”, to William, it meant something different, like “Don't give up all hope -I just might have to bang on it a bit more.” Then engine parts started to come off slowly and laboriously - one step forward and two steps back. But they came back from the welders quickly and looking great. The alternator went to the shop, but was declared DOA. A new one from the Universal parts website was listed at $600, our wallet sqeaked. William Medina put us at ease though when he told a new one would be about 70,000...colones, about $140. Not an exact match, but it would do. Actually it does great, and puts out more voltage than the old one. The heat exchanger also needed to be replaced, but William happened to have one that we could make do with – a little welding here, and new hoses there, and voila!

Chris and William at work

Alex Buchanan arrived towards the end of the week, but he took our repair woes in stride. I mean, who doesn't expect to turn a wrench and get greasy on their tropical vacation? On about the third day of his visit, as we were preparing to leave the dock for Islas Tortugas and Alex's actual vacation, another coolant leak was found, this time in two of the inspection port plugs. Ugh. After consulting with William, Chris decided he'd rather plug the holes with epoxy than tear down the entire engine to replace them. Funds might have influenced this decision as well. The next day we finally got out of Punatarenas – for a couple of days anyway.

We made our way to Islas Tortugas, where we snorkeled and did a SCUBA dive. It was Alex's first time beathing underwater, and besides the requisite flailing (neutral buoyancy is awkward) , he did very well and now has a mild case of the SCUBA bug. The area boast some of the best snorkeling in the Nicoya Gulf. We saw lots of tropical species and big schools, and a few big enough that made Alex and Chris want to come back armed. So in the morning they dropped me off on the beach to do some yoga and while they returned to find dinner. The fishing was fruitful and Chris nabbed a nice golden jack and a gafftopsail pompano.

The roseate spoonbill

Next stop: Curu Preserve, a former banana plantation turned tourist attraction and animal refuge. We anchored out off the beach, took the dinghy in and went off in search of some creatures. We saw signs to Beware of Crocodiles, but none of the ferocious reptiles themselves. But as we were keeping an eye trained along the creek bed, we did see a pretty cool sight – a lizard that runs across the surface of the water on two legs. Yep, we spotted the Jesus Christ Lizard. It's really called that, I promise.

About that time, we started hearing the now familiar sound of howler monkeys. Winding through the forest, we came to a bend in the river and saw a few howlers hanging out in the branches over head. There were a couple of mama and baby pairs, and I saw one little one snuggle up to its mom for nap.

Conga, the dock dog gettin some.

We observed for a while, had a snack and decided to carry on. Just a few hundred yards down the trail, I looked up to see a capuchin monkey running straight at Chris and Alex, as if to scare them away. Undaunted, we lingered and got some great pictures and had some interesting interactions with the little animals. They're very curious and would often come very close to us. A few made sort of aggressive looking grimaces and at least two broke off pieces of branches to throw at us. Once when Chris (of course) decided he wanted to “get one,” three others came from nearby trees to help defend it. Not that Chris had any chance of getting close to it – those suckers are fast!

Also on the preserve were a few spider monkeys that were rescued pets, so they couldn't live out in the wild. They were in an inclosure with a couple of trees, ropes and a goat. We wondered if they ever rode the goat.

We left Curu that afternoon and sailed up to Cedros Island. The boys made a fire on the beach and we cooked up the jack and pompano. I played guitar while Chris was sweating over the hot fire, so it was very pleasant. It was only our second beach fire of the trip – I definitely wish we could build them more often! We woke up early to catch the high tide back into Puntarenas, and spent the rest of the day relaxing at the Yacht Club. Alex had to catch a super early bus to the airport for his flight the next morning, so we had a mellow night with a delicious steak dinner and a beautiful sunset to send him on his way.

Busted

Our next stop is an island 15 miles off the coast of Costa Rica. Isla de Cano has been a national biological reserve since 1978, but it's history goes back much further than that. The island was used as a burial ground by the Diquis Indians. Artifacts have been found dating back to 220 and 800 B.C. Those mysterious perfect stone spheres lying in the jungle...yup, they're found here. They reportedly range from a few inches in diameter to 6'. Also, it's believed that Sir Francis Drake, the English privateer, spent time here after capturing the Spanish treasure ship Nuestra Senora de la Concepcion. The history books say he stopped at the island in 1579, to recaulk his Golden Hinde. Speculation seems to follow Drake everywhere, no one really knows how far up the North American coast he explored or whether all the treasure he reportedly captured ever made it back to merry old England.

We made a stop at his namesake, Bahia Drake, to get our SCUBA tanks filled and to grab a few provisions. The diving at Isla de Cano is supposed to be pretty good. We've heard reports of 80 feet of visibility and great sea-life sightings, including giant mantas and white tipped reef sharks. We'll be sure to take some pictures. Besides good diving, the island also has the highest concentration of lightning strikes in Costa Rica. Until a few days ago, we hadn't had rain at sea since...hmmmm...never. We left Puntarenas and were passing a spot called Bahia Herradura that evening when the clouds gathered and we begin to see lightning. I'm not going to say I'm afraid of lightning, but I sure don't want us to be struck. Amanda on the other hand becomes pretty darn anxious around high voltage. Being the compassionate captain I am, and realizing that even half a night's bad sleep is better than motoring through a thunderstorm, we headed for Herradura. About a half mile from the entrance the downpour started and the lights from the shore disappeared behind a wall of water. We waited about 20 minutes for the rain to lighten up so we could see and began heading into the bay. We've become quite the navigational team these days, so with Amanda at the radar and the GPS with our waypoints with me at the helm, we made it in and dropped the hook. Liberte is a boat, so she, like every other boat in the world, has a few leaks. She can handle a gentle rain, but when it comes down in buckets, a few of those buckets make their way inside. So we rode out our first tropical thunderstorm, got a decent night's sleep and headed out again the next morning with a rainbow of damp towels on the lifelines.

I feel like I am giving my mom and my mother-in-law gray hairs as I write sharks!!! and lightning!!!, sorry mom, sorry Deb. When Amanda and I first took up surfing in California, it led to the inevitable topic of sharks, which also led to the topic of fear. I can understand taking a few basic precautions. Don't spend too much time surfing near seals, don't act like a seal in the water, and don't chum where you surf. But when I met folks who said they'd never go in the ocean because there were sharks there I thought it was pretty weird. I'm not going to go into the figures of how many people die from getting hit by sharks every year versus how many get eaten by cars or stray bullets. I used to see people's fears as a challenge. Afraid of sharks? Let's go abalone diving, you'll love it. Afraid of heights? Rock climbing, its super fun!

I've backed off a bit, partly because it seems impossible to get anyone to give up their fears without divine intervention and partly because of self interests. What if Jaws had never been made? There would be so many people out surfing, there wouldn't be a peak around without a hundred people scrambling for it. We'd be scuba diving in packs. I'm not going to say that I'm not afraid of anything. There's a time and place for every emotion, like when the grizzly bear rears up on two legs and roars, that's a good time for fear. Luckily, my dive partner no longer harbors fear for large fish that have big teeth, just a healthy respect and a sense of awe. What do I do about Amanda's new fear of lightning and thunderstorms? Not sure, give her a hug. But just so no one gets worried, I am doing my best to not get us struck by lightning.

UPDATE: So we went out to Isla del Cano for our extraordinary diving, only to butt heads with the officialdom of Costa Rica. Apparently we are supposed to buy a ticket to the park in Puerto Jimenez, 75 miles away. Park "officials" wouldn't take our money, said we couldn't stay in the anchorage without the ticket and couldn't dive without a guide. It was a bummer, I'll go ahead and say it might have been the low point of the entire trip, Amanda actually wept. Sadly, we motored towards Golfo Dulce. On a higher note, we made a stop this morning at Pavones, the legendary Costa Rican left. Caught some tasty waves. It made my day, maybe my week. I feel like a new man.

We're in Golfito, just got here this afternoon. We're at an awesome cruiser club, Land and Sea. All's well.

Pardon the interuption

Sorry folks for the lack of posting lately, we've been up to our ears in repairs, visits from friends and an inland trip. Amanda just wrote a big long post, but somehow the internet hiccuped and dropped it all. We're leaving Puntarenas right now with the high tide, so no time to write it all over again. We'll get it back up in a day or two.

Meanwhile, here's a photo of a monkey...

Visions of Puntarenas

Jungle bridges in Curu Reserve

Mangrove!

Nighttime at Costa Rica Yacht Club

Conga the dock dog

Our home for waaayy too long...

The roseate spoonbill at home in the mangrove swamp

The mechanic William Medina and Christopher LaClair at home with their

hands in the engine compartment

Our newly welded flywheel cover, sure, yeah that's what we'll call it

The mutant heat exchanger

Not A Vacation

Last week...

Not too long ago, Chris and I had a conversation in which we disagreed about whether or not this was a vacation. Or rather, Chris said something about our “year-long vacation” and I looked at him like he had three heads.
This is an experience. Much of the time it is very rewarding, and I’ve had more moments of awe and wonder than I can count. Some of the time it gets a little tedious. A few times I’ve been downright terrified. Under no circumstances should one be terrified on vacation.
This has been one of the least vacation-y weeks we’ve had…lots of work to be done, sweat to be poured in a less than spectacular setting. We are getting some engine work done, replacing batteries, and have squeezed in some cleaning projects in there as well. Fortunately for us, it follows one of the most vacation-y weeks, with long walks and sunset beach parties and games and conversation with loved ones. Yay.
But somehow, in the midst of all the work, I have felt really happy. Riding bikes through town, getting things accomplished or getting thwarted, I feel like it’s ok, it’ll all come together. I look at my husband and think how lucky we are to be here, how lucky we are to have each other. And it doesn’t take a vacation to realize that.