Monday, March 24, 2014

I need to make a slight correction. Our sail to Costa Rica was actually two trips. We sailed the boat from Brunswick, Georgia, where we bought her, and then sailed to Tampa Bay. We stayed there a month and then sailed for Costa Rica.

I would like to add the Pearson 35 website here. The Pearson 35 is the make of boat Reliant is. They are great boats. Believe it or not. They do well in light air.'S_NEW_2013.htm

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Welcome to the blog about our sailing trip from Georgia to Costa Rica. The beginning of the trip and the blog starts at the bottom. Herein is the phenomenon; I did this trip and this blog after I wrote a book about a fictional trip that follows almost the same course. A Change of Course. The book is now on Amazon:

The print copy will be available in about 30 days from today. It has been a hell of an experience, writing the book, blog and doing the sail trip.

 I hope you enjoy it!

If you come to the Jaco area of Costa Rica, take a tour on our "Joy Ride" Sailing Tour we do out of Herradura Bay.


Thanks for your interest.

Glenn Henderson
This is the charter info.

Glenn Henderson

Friday, January 31, 2014

We had a small earthquake yesterday.

I have been busy with a design project for Hunter, working on the boat, surfing and... fixing the inoperable electric window on my beach car. I took some Harken sailboat hardware and rigged it so I can raise and lower the window. That is a cam cleat that locks off the line. A "micro-block" block and tackle is the machinery inside the door. I really do enjoy engineering.

Glenn Henderson

Playa Hermosa

Costa Rica

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The "Vee" of the Bimini in the right side of the photo. A well rested Hunter in the center.
The Flying Fish
An onboard oddity happened somewhere between Roatan and Isa Mujeres. It was around 2:00 in the morning in the depths of the night watch. Hunter and I shared the responsibility. I was dead beat tired and had rested my head between the “V” of the pipes of the Bimini cover for comfort and rest. Laying your head on pipes for comfort probably sounds incredulous but in the state of misery at that time, it was plausible and logical. The waves were big and slamming spray everywhere. The erratic motion of the boat was constant and wearing. Hunter was seated next to me and gained his comfort by bowing his head until his chin rested on his chest and supported his head.
I was half dreaming and imagining a more comfortable existence when, Bamm!, I was firmly slapped on the back of my head.
“Dammit Hunter, what did you do that for?” I was certain Hunter had pinged the back of my head but I couldn’t understand why.
“I didn’t do anything. I don’t have the energy to do something like that,” he said defensively.
I denied his claim, “What then hit me on the head?”
Suddenly, an officious smell enveloped us. It was a fish smell but foul and odorous. At that instant a buzzing sound erupted from the aft part of the cockpit. It was very dark and it was difficult to see what it was. The sound was that of an electric weed whacker but we knew it wasn’t that. Though very fatigued, I was too curious to not check it out. When I approached the anomaly, it buzzed again. It was a flying fish about nine inches long. It had flown up from the sea, hit my head and landed in the cockpit. I reached down to pick it up when, BZZZZZZZ, it tried to escape by flapping it’s wings. It was like trying to pick up a hummingbird. I worried that I would hurt it’s wings if I picked it up. The problem was solved because it had landed on a boat cushion. I pick the cushion up and flung the arial animal into the sea. Weird things happen offshore.


Saturday, January 18, 2014



A morning started with good Costa Rican coffee

The anchorage in Bahia Ballenas (Whale Bay)

The solar panel is a favored "Billy-Goating" target.

"YIKES" What was that?

We returned last night from our mini-cruise over to Bahia Ballenas near the town of Tambor. We sailed in great weather and Meredith caught a Bonito on the way over. I unhooked the fish and it swam away as I have never been able to make Bonito taste good. Once we got to the harbor, I rowed the three of us to what appeared to be a loading dock for all the fishermen. There were piles of Dorado (Mahi-Mahi) and another stack of Bonito. I asked one of the fisherman, "Que tipo de pescado es este?" "What kind of fish is this? He replies, "Es Atun Negra." "It is Black Tuna." We had caught at least five of these since we entered the Pacific. They looked so similar to the Gulf and Atlantic Bonito, I thought that was what they were. Meredith was steamed when she learned she had caught Black Tuna and I cast them back.

One thing about this trip was the new words we invented. On such word was Billy-Goating. That is the process of coiling up energy in your body as the boat rolls to slamming your head into some target as the boat rolls back. That is called Billy-Goating.

I publicly thank my wife, Lindsey for helping me out of a dilemma. I had prudently set out two anchors for the overnight stay. When it became time to leave, I starting pulling in the anchors. I tried to cheat the system and pull in the small Fortress anchor without out letting out the rode of the main anchor. I pulled all the slack out of the line and tried to unseat the anchor from the seabed but it didn’t work. I had flaked the excess into the lazzarette an left it untied to anything. I then got into the dinghy (without the oars onboard) and hand of hand, pulled my self out to a position right over the anchor. I then easily pulled it up and put it in the dinghy. I then started pulling myself back to Relianto hand over hand using the anchor line. The trouble was, I had left the boat without attaching the anchor line to anything. I discovered the line was uncoiling from the lazzarette as fast as I was pulling on it. It moments, the bitter end of the line would splash into the sea leaving me stranded from the boat with no oars. Lindsey came out on deck just in time to catch the line before I pulled it totally off the boat.

We walked up the road that surrounds the harbor and as I looked down to Relianto anchored out there. Her classic lines looked pretty from above. I couldn’t help but reminisce about how far we had sailed her from Brunswick, Georgia. It seemed a long time ago when Lindsey and I worked her through the locks of the Okeechobee Waterway. She has evolved into a lean and effective sailing machine. She looked at home anchored in the Bay.

Pura Vida,

Glenn the JungleBoy

18 Enero, 2014

Casa de Olas

Playa Hermosa

Costa Rica

Moments before discovering I was in peril. 

A sunrise in Edgewater, Florida

Thursday, January 16, 2014

 Lindsey and Meredith at "Bowie's Point" in Playa Hermosa

Today, we sail for Tambor. It is a 20-mile trip across the Nicoya Gulf the east side of the Nicoya Peninsula. Meredith has friends that own a Bed and Breakfast in Montezuma, 5 miles away. They set up Horseback tours and other fun things for tourist. I am looking forward to getting underway. It is uncanny how you get hooked when making miles on a sailboat, regardless how miserable they are. Once you get in the habit, it feels natural to be underway. I am sure that feeling wears off over time but for now, it feels good to go. I look at the Pacific charts and all the islands and places to go and I get a bug in my mind about how to go about doing it. For now, I need to run the charter business for a while. It is time to work and hope my book sells (A Change of Course) which, I promise, will be published soon.

Pura Vida,

Glenn the JungleBoy

16 Enero, 2014

Casa de Olas

Playa Hermosa

Costa Rica


 Palm tree on Beach

 Underway again
Lindsey at "Las Pearlas" hotel in Pavones
Me at home in  Playa Hermosa after doing a lot of stuff.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

I need to research if getting your adrenaline level raised is healthy or not. If it is healthy, I am putting a lot in the bank of wellness. It happens to me a lot these days. Yesterday, it was arranged that I take Relianto to the fuel dock in the marina at Los Suenos to get the boat inspected by the officials to determine if she is worthy and safe to be used as a charter boat. The reason we brought the boat down here is to use her as a charter boat. The goal of the voyage is not complete until we are in business. Getting through the bureaucracy is as daunting as sailing the oceans. Getting the boat through inspection is a critical part of the process, that and the payment.
I paddled out to the boat on a surfboard and Meredith drove the car around to the marina. I went out to the boat early to allow plenty of time in case of any problems. Though promptness is not common here in Costa Rica, I did not want to be late for this appointment.
The Westerbeake diesel engine in Relianto has been as reliable as the sunrise. It has been stalwart and dependable during the entire trip. Though I trust it, I still check the gauges regularly. I had just cast away from the mooring when I noticed the engine temperature was up to 220 degrees Fahrenheit. That is too hot. It had always been on 180 the entire trip. I had to set the anchor as I was too far from the mooring to snag it. Note; I am anchoring in forty feet of water. Raising a forty-five pound anchor with chain from forty feet is a project in itself.
This is when the adrenaline rush started. Here I am, taking the boat to get inspected by a government official to determine if she is worthy and suitable to take out paying guests and I can’t even get her to the inspection site. I removed the engine box to expose the engine for examination. The engine box is huge, heavy, and difficult to handle but with the adrenaline surge, I snatched it up like it was a matchbox. I discovered the belt that drives the water pump had broken.
The irony of the situation is that I had a spare belt but I had taken it off the boat. When we got to Costa Rica, I stripped the boat down and had planned to carefully put back only the things I deemed necessary for local sailing. When I took the spare belt off the boat, I made a conscious decision that I would not need it until we started sailing again. I remember making that decision. If I had the spare belt, which was at our house, I could have installed it in a moment and have plenty of time to get to the appointment.
As it turned out, the agent and the inspector came out to the boat on an outboard powered panga. It was accepted that the broken belt was not a serious problem and Relianto passed this part of the certification process. Perhaps the inspector thought the boat was reliable enough to get us here from the states and she was therefore suitable to take tourist out sailing in the bay.
Life is never boring around here.
Pura Vida,
Glenn the JungleBoy
12 Enero, 2014
Casa de Olas
Playa Hermosa
Costa Rica
 The Belt. I wish I had this yesterday.
Huevos anyone?