Bahia Honda
- Capt. Eric
- Apr 26
- 6 min read
We left Isla Gamez to head over to the next island, only a couple hours away but when we arrived there, the ever present Pacific swell was exploding on the surrounding rocks and the large waves were crashing on the narrow beach. There was no chance to stop there so we kept on going to the next the island, part of the Coiba National Park.
By the time we arrived, we were only about an hour before sunset, at high tide, and we'd just received news from friends of ours on a beautiful catamaran that they'd been asked for US$100 for one night there (they left rather than paying). We had a quick look inside our chosen bay, but there was no way to bring Princess ashore, and we too found the $100 a night bill rather high for an uncomfortable night.
So we kept on going to the next possible anchorage, this time I chose one that would 100% be sheltered from the swell: Bahia Honda (= Deep Bay) . Unlike the motorbike or outboards, the "H" is silent.
The arrival was easy enough to be attempted at night, a good thing as we would arrive around 11 at night. Getting to anchorage, in a deep dark night, the radar detected 3 other boats already there, including our catamaran friends.
Our Navionics chart seemed accurate, with the sounder showing the same depth reported on the chart, and it took me a couple of tries to find the "perfect" spot away from any shallow waters, and at a safe distance from the other boats.
That second attempt was disturbed for a short while when I saw a boat approaching us on radar, yet I couldn't see it by sight: I threw Enfin's engine in reverse so as not to collide with an unseen boat, only to realize it was a local in his kayak coming to "welcome" us, and offer us various fruits he'd picked up. We gave him a can of beer and salty crackers, mostly to be able to resume anchoring and setting the boat up for the night in peace, more than any need for fresh food.
The next morning had us wake up in another version of paradise: We'd left the tropical beaches behind and were now in a deep jungle, with lush vegetation coming all the way down to the water. Mangroves were lining the few beaches, only accessible at low tide. Luckily it was low tide now, so Princess got her first walk ashore in the last 24 hours.
Ashore we found ourselves limited to the low tide area, and completely surrounded by the tall luxurious jungle, with its vibrant gradients of green, towering trees and vegetation. We could hear all sorts of noises and sounds, not knowing which were birds, which were frogs, or any other critter.
Once in a while we'd be lucky enough to spot an incredibly beautiful bird, often with wild colors, or a magnificent butterfly. Back on the boat we'd try and identify what we'd just seen, and added to our collection of jungle sightings.
My favorite had to be the electric blue Morpho Menelaus butterfly, a giant bigger than my hand I had already seen deep in the jungle of French Guyana many years ago.
With the respite from the constant swell afforded by the round bay, we decided to spend time in our new paradise found. We were running low on eggs and bread, our last groceries being in Golfito, Costa Rica a few weeks ago already, so decided to try our luck at the nearby island. The little village there has a bar and "tienda" (shop) selling a few basic items they said.
So we hopped on the dinghy and took the occasion to meander around the bay, feeling like early explorers. Di has been reading a book on Cook's travels and we could only marvel at how exploring such places would have been fraught with dangers back then.
From the strong weather that can come up in no time, to the big swell, the uncharted rocks, insects and more, we are so lucky to have all the modern technology and comforts at our disposal.
We arrived at a rickety dock in front of a very loud bar, with music screaming at full blast from overpowered speakers. Our arrival didn't seem to phase any of the few customers, all sat together at one table -they seemed all rather out of it- and they didn't even think of lowering the music when we said our hellos and asked about the tienda.
Princess did seem to wake them up a little bit though, and soon she was the object of much attention, and photos. As so often, she turned out to be our ambassador, and soon we were guided via a narrow plank over the water, and past a hen house, to the famous shop.
Even in this tiny village with no cars, only accessible by boat, and no more than a few dozen souls, the tienda had the usual setup where the merchandise is safely stored in the back, and you must ask the shopkeeper what you want through safety bars.
That works when you know the shop and what it carries, but when you have no idea of any of the brands, it makes things rather complicated. It is so much easier to wander around a shop, pick things up to read the packages and see the prices than to point and ask for any item that might be of interest.
The lady didn't have any eggs nor bread, but one of the kids there said he'd get some the next day, so we could come back then.
On our way back, we stopped at another island to look at the village's adults cemetery. The kids' one is on yet another island.
We also found a nice spot for Princess to walk around and explore.
Back at our anchorage spot, the local lady (there are 2 houses belonging to 1 family ashore), came up to us in her kayak. Di and her chatted a while, and the lady offered to find some eggs for us as well as to bake some bread. She insisted on bartering for them, but we find this difficult: We don't tend to keep "old" stuff around on our tiny boat. If a T-Shirt isn't wearable anymore, it becomes an engine rag. And we've long ago given away all the stuff we didn't need since we have so little space to store things.
She came back the next day, as promised, with 7 eggs from the overnight production from her hens, and 2 loaves of bread she'd made herself. She was apologetic that her yeast hadn't done its job, but we were happy to have good -if hearty- bread.
Ashore, Di would collect fallen mangoes, leaving those on trees alone, and soon we had a plenty of them slowly maturing in the boat, filling the cabin with delicious tropical smells.
2 catamarans arrived on the same day, the first being crewed by a French couple and the second by a Belgium couple.
We had actually met them before, and we decided we'd catch up at dinner at the local house: The entrepreneurial couple there had just opened an eco-lodge, using some re-purposed solar panels and batteries given by passing cruisers and could host dinners for guests with enough notice.
The dinner was a delightful affair, at sunset and long into the night, on a beautiful terrace with an incredible view over the bay.
Our host grilled a number of freshly caught groupers, marinated to perfection whilst his wife prepared a delicious salad, and later rice, beans and fried green plantains. All for the grand sum of $10 per person.
We said good-bye to our friends and paddled back to Enfin. They left the next day and we soon decided we'd keep going too, to give ourselves sufficient time to discover this beautiful area further.
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