SALSIPUEDES in Spanish means, “Leave if you can.” In one aspect I took it as, “Good luck getting out of here Moody Blues.” Another aspect was, “Moody Blues, how can you leave beautiful Islas Murcielagos (Bat Islands)?”

Why leave? Because we had not checked into Costa Rica yet, and we didn’t want to get into any trouble or be fined for breaking the rules. 

So we put off weighing anchor for as long as we could. The fact two turtles were making-out off  Moody Blues’ starboard side slowed us down—it’s their fault! But how often do you see Loggerhead Turtles in the throws of passion? Turtles usually see a boat coming and dive under. This male turtle dove up and could care less that we were there. He was on a mission!

About an hour after we left, the sky became somber from gigantic onyx clouds rumbling up into the heaven like the plums of a coal driven choo-choo train. The wind quickly blew into the roaring 20s. “I knew we shouldn’t have shaken out that reef, Gene!” I moaned.

The spattering of dime size water drops on the dodger announced Victory at Sea time. The rain soon became a deluge. Gene had no choice but to go reef the main. I took the hard job, staying under the dodger out of the rain and driving. Playa del Coco, the Port of Entry in Bahia Culebra was only 23 miles away.

Welcomes to the “wet season” in the tropics. Feel like getting deluged? Hop on board!

(This post is dedicated to the Bentzen brothers who have been through it all.)

San José Island, Bahia Ensueño and the Rangers’ house.

IN THE GOLFO de Papayago at  the west end of Costa Rica, which most of us norteamericanos (in Spanish norteamericanos is not capitalized) would think of as the north end not the west end, in the state of Guanacasle, the uninhabited Islas Murcielagos (Bat Islands) are named: Isla San Pedrito (little Saint Peter Island); Isla Las Golondrinas (The Swallows Island); Isla Catalina (Catherine Island); Isla San José (Saint Joseph Island, where the park rangers live for two weeks at a time and collect $15 per person to anchor and go ashore) and Isla Cocinero (Cook Island). They are all part of the Santa Rosa National Park, which is the largest park in Costa Rica. The park environs over 123,500 acres/50,000 hectares. There are over 253 species of birds, 100 species of amphibians and reptiles, and over 10,000 varieties of insects. Oh boy, insects.
      The islands run almost E to W for six miles along the ravishing south side of the Santa Elena Peninsula and are known for their prolific underwater wildlife making both scuba diving and snorkeling outrageous.
      Moody Blues anchored in Bahía Ensueño along with Tropical Dance, Wahoo, Spirit, Pipedream and Walrus. It was Reylyn of Tropical Dance’s birthday, so a bunch of us went on an ambitious hike. Join us, put on your hiking boots, ‘cause here we go! But take warning, it’s hot and humid, and the hills are steep, and the air gets very thin at the top, and there’s no shade. Wear a bathing suit, you will probably want to jump in the water the minute you get back down to sea level. We did, even though we didn’t have bathing suits on!

     (This post is dedicated to my cousin  Taletta  and Bill & Maude Cummings for emailing us that they love our blog.) 

ABOUT HALF WAY across Bahía de Salinas we left Nicaragua and entered the northern (west really) border of Costa Rica’s 540-mile Pacific coastline. The sinuous mountains were sprinkled with emerald gemsto. It was blinding, it was so green—parrot green! We were enchanted.
     Mid-afternoon we furled the sails and tip-toed into Bahía Santa Elena waving hello to Hiatus, Wahoo and Tropical Dance. Jenny had gone to Bahía Salinas. From aloft the Bahía Santa Elena looked like a profile of a foot, toes to the right and the ankle being the entry. It was stunning and so very calm with crystal clear water. We had entered “Pura Vida,” Costa Rica’s theme, “Pure Life.”