Why is it they always give the worst winds the cutest names? We discovered this phenomenon as we were heading south to the Panama Canal on our way to Europe back in 1994.
Having crossed the Sea of Tehuantepec numerous times, I was well aware of the dreaded Tehuantepecker – a funny name with a deadly twist. The Tehuantepecker comes out of nowhere, with winds gusting upwards of 100 mph! Not something to be trifled with. So, being a careful skipper, I dutifully monitored Herb on Southbound II’s weather watch, and we planned our crossing when we had at least a 24 hour “hole.”
Having crossed this area a few times, I was becoming complacent.
Rule #1: NEVER become complacent!
As we had a good opening, I decided to head out. Normally I would “keep one foot on the beach,” which is the normal practice for this area. That way, if the wind does come up there is no fetch, as the wind always comes off the land. 100 mph winds are not too bad if there are no seas with them.
I talked with a large powerboat I saw on the horizon. It seems they were heading straight out across the sea. I asked why, and they said the weather service they subscribed to gave them a three-day opening.
After some thought, I figured, what the heck, let’s go for it!
Rule #2: Never figure “What the heck.”
So three days later, our powerboat buddies are tucked into Bahia Cocoa sipping tropical drinks and enjoying the balmy breezes, while the Lost Soul chugged along on diesel power, as there was no wind at all.
Just before dawn on our last day, we started to get a little wind.
Our loud-mouthed Captain (that’d be me!) piped up with “Okay, we got a little wind, let’s see if we can’t get a little more!”
Rule #3: NEVER ask for more wind!
You see, I figured we were far enough away from the peninsula where the dreaded Tehuantepecker was born, so a little wind would be nice.
Yes, a little wind would have been nice.
Anyone out there ever seen all the boats that are named Papagallo? You have any idea where the cute name comes from? After all, it is such a great name; Papagallo. It flows, right?
Well, a little after dawn the crew of the Lost Soul started to become acquainted with the word Papagallo a little more intimately than we would have wished for.
By noon we had about 50 knots of wind blowing right on our nose. It seems that a less publicized occurrence for the area was none other than the cutely titled phenomenon for which all these cute little sailboats were named—the Papagallo storm.
This differs from the Tehuantepecker in that it does not blow out of the north across the Mexican peninsula, but it prefers to blow from the southeast, across Nicaragua. Actually a little out of the ESE, just about where you wouldn’t want wind to come from if you were sailing to, say, Costa Rica. Which we were.
Rule #4: When cruising, there is either too much wind or not enough, but it’s always on the nose!
As the day progressed, we rode a duel edged sword. On one hand, every hour saw the wind increase, along with the seas. On the other hand, we also got closer to land, which reduced the fetch, so the seas were not as bad as they could have been.
Around 3 pm we were within sight of land, and a welcome sight it was. Just before dark we pulled in behind a cliff and dropped anchor.
We sat there for the night and about half the next day while the wind with the cute little name blew. Whitecaps whirled behind us as the wind dropped from the cliff to scour the sea.
And then I noticed that there weren’t as many whitecaps about a mile or so south. After assuring myself that it was not, indeed, a mirage, we hoisted anchor and headed in that direction.
Every few hundred feet found the wind dwindling. About a mile away it was actually warm! But behind us the winds still howled.
We were soon anchored in a cute little bay with clear blue water and no wind at all.
Looking back at the windline, we were soon lulled back into cruising mode. We felt more than a little pride in having experienced a Papagallo so intimately.
