We made a brief stop on our way toward Mexico at Isla del Tigre, Honduras. Very few cruisers stop here because it is quite far up into the Gulf of Fonseca and because not a cruisers stop here. It was a pretty easy stop as far as Latin America goes though, check-in and check-out took only about 15 minutes and didn’t cost anything. By contrast, other places take hours or even days and can cost close to $500. We had heard how easy the process was and decided to give the place a day or two as a result.
The trip up from Nicaragua should have been pretty straightforward. This coast does not have good winds, so we find ourselves motoring a lot. About three hours in, I went below to check the engine temperatures with our thermal imager and noticed that the bilge under the engine had a lot of coolant in it. We immediately shut down the engine and spent the next several hours sailing at 1-2 knots, about half of which was in the direction of where we were headed since the few knots of wind we had was coming from where we were going.
After talking with some people who know a lot more about engines than I do, the plan was to add water back into the coolant system to top it up and proceed to the anchorage. It turns out we lost about three cups of coolant in the three hours. We ran the engine at very low RPMs the last couple of hours up into Fonseca and didn’t lose any more coolant. This low RPM, and thus low temperature and pressure, tactic is what we continued to use from Honduras to Chiapas as well.
Golfo de Fonseca
The Gulf is really, really beautiful. There are several islands and surrounding mainland that belong to Nicaragua, Honduras, and El Salvador. The land and islands are mostly massive volcanoes, and it made for great scenery, and a few hours of good sailing as well.
Amapala
When we were clearing in, we were met by an 85 year old man named Bob. Bob spoke good English and had lived almost his entire life on the small island. He said he knew all the history, etc. and seemed set on showing us around. He seemed nice, but his hearing was terrible and he never really said anything about the history or island. He got into a tuk-tuk with us and told the driver where to take us for food. The meal was mediocre at best, and quite overpriced for this very poor country.
Basically Bob was a rascal and when we tried to part ways, he made it uncomfortable and said we needed to pay him for his “help”. I gave him some money and walked away. Luckily we never saw him again because I would have been very rude to him.
Our next day was a bit better. We walked around town to look at the colorful church and touristy stuff near the ferry jetty.
It is a very poor country, and this is a small island that mainland Hondurans come to visit as tourists. Very few foreigners come here and as a result, nobody quite knew what to do. It was clear that “gringo pricing” is something that they had figured out. In a country where the median salary is about $300 a month, there is no way that locals pay a few dollars per pupusa like we did.
There weren’t too many cars on the island, instead it was mostly motorcycles and tuk-tuk taxis.
We hired one for $20 to take us all the way around the island, which took just over an hour. The ‘houses’ around the town of Amapala were quite ramshackle, but once out on the island ring road, the poverty became even more evident. The majority of the houses were just four branches stuck into the ground with a big sheet of corrugated metal wrapped around and another piece for a roof. Some of the fancier places were cinder block houses, and my guess is that those people suffer from fewer big, bad wolf attacks than the corrugated metal crowd.
Like most parts of Central America we have seen, trash is everywhere. There was a sign saying that that there is a fine for littering, but clearly nobody is enforcing it. The only police-ish presence we saw were the military guys who rove the jetty with their AK rifles and balaclavas on their heads.
One interesting thing here, and in other “poorer” places we have been, is that they are quite rich in time. Most houses we drove past had the entire family hanging out together in the yard. I feel like a lot of people in the US have very little time and a whole lot of money, they do the opposite here. I guess by going cruising, we have shifted from one side to the other. I’m sure somewhere has the balance worked out just right, but it isn’t the US and it isn’t here.
The views out into the Gulf were beautiful and having three countries in the same picture is kind of neat as well.
The people were 50/50. We would meet one person who was kind and helpful and then the next (like Bob) would be a complete rascal. We flagged down a fisherman to try to get a ride to shore (the dinghy landing at the jetty is quite rough). He said he would but that he needed to go drop off his fish. We never saw that dude again and after waiting over an hour we put the dinghy in the water and drove in. We were met at the jetty by a guy in his early twenties who tied up our dinghy and moved it several times throughout the day to adjust for tides, and panga traffic. The tuk-tuk driver was nice and helpful, then the fruit stand lady was very mean. Who knows.
It was an interesting stop that I think even in hindsight I would do again, but just as we did this time, it would only be 1-2 days. And, with hindsight, Grete would push back…because she pretty much hated it all.