The island came into sight just as the sun
was rising after the third night. Even
from very far away one could tell that this was a rugged - very rugged - piece of landscape. There were steep mountains rising straight
out of the water, and while I am not a good judge of heights these mountains were
really up there. In the early morning
light it was a spooky looking place, with a mist that shrouded the mountain
and conveyed a great mystery about what we were getting into. According to the cruising guide one should keep good distance off the shore due to numerous submerged rocks and pinnacles
that would barely show above the surface of the water. There were also the hazards of fishing nets and
long lines that are used by the fishermen in the waters surrounding the island
for many miles out. The nets and lines
are frequent propeller, keel, stabilizer, and rudder foulers. Of course the abundance of this type of gear
illustrates the excellent fishing found around the island. Actually Isabel is
made up of several islands in close proximity with one another, but the main
island is the only one that could be landed on or explored. We had been advised that due to the
relatively poor and rocky bottom, and the fact that there is little protection
from steep winds, that anchoring off Isabel is best suited in calm to light conditions. The island
has a bad reputation for swallowing anchors, particularly in the southern bay due to the numerous
reefs and underwater rock formations. It
had been recommended that due to the possibility of sticking the anchor that I
should consider the use of a trip line and buoy on the anchor. I had all that I needed to set up such a
system but I had never used one before.
It seemed simple enough, just one more thing that needed to be
coordinated when dropping the anchor. If
the anchor does become stuck, or bound, the trip line can be useful in getting
the anchor up.
We rounded the island, in as close as I felt comfortable being. We could see a small bay to the south of the island where there was obviously the fishing village. The bay was lined by the most incredibly rugged looking rocks and formations and was actually quite scary looking, but there appeared to be a protected area at the head of the bay and we could see pangas on the beach; we figured that this was the only area where a dingy landing would be possible. This bay was the area that was famous for swallowing anchors, so we chose to anchor at the alternate location to the east of the island
The alternate anchorage was actually just behind one of
the other islands that had a name, but was no more than a big pinnacle rock
that towered up out the water 150 to 200 feet.
It did have a tendency to block the wind from the northern direction
but that was about it. I did not like
this location at all, but it was better than the other one. So we deployed our anchor, our trip line, and
our anchor buoy, and set back to see if the anchor would hold. When the anchor first went down I could feel
in the chain that the anchor was scraping across rocks, but at some point it
must have set because the wind had come up to about 20 knots.
We ate some breakfast, again allowing time to test the
sturdiness of the anchor, and when we were satisfied that Milagro would be
there when we came back, we launched the dingy and headed for shore.
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