There’s something magical about leaving a harbor before dawn, the air is cool and the soft, muted colors of the sky blend seamlessly into the sea as we point our bow southward. Our plan was simple: sail to Isla Coronados. But, as often happens in the life of cruisers, plans are merely suggestions.
The seas were unusually calm, so flat that the sound of our motor felt unusually intrusive. We were making good progress, gliding over the glassy water with no resistance. As we neared the halfway point, with everything going smoothly, we made a spontaneous decision to push on a little further to Isla Carmen’s Bahia Ballandra, a peaceful anchorage nestled on the island’s west side offering better protection from the strong northern winds forecasted for the night ahead.
Arrival at Bahia Ballandra: A Full Anchorage and a New Plan
It sounded perfect in theory, but reality had a different script. As we approached Bahia Ballandra it became clear we weren’t the only cruisers with this plan. By the time we arrived, the anchorage was crowded, every prime spot in the northernmost portion of the bay was already taken by boats seeking refuge. With little other option, we dropped anchor in the southeastern portion of the bay. It wasn’t ideal, but we told ourselves it would suffice for the night.
No sooner had we set anchor than the wind picked up, gusting fiercely up to 27 knots. We let out extra chain, set the anchor alarm, and prepared to settle in. But even as we began making dinner, the wind and sea had other plans for us.
The Wind Howls, and the Seas Follow Suit
As the night progressed, the wind howled through Bahia Ballandra, and the seas outside the bay grew angrier. The growing waves began to wrap around the land, hitting Liahona on her beam. The rolling started slowly but built up to a relentless side-to-side motion that made it nearly impossible to do anything—let alone enjoy the beauty of our surroundings.
Cooking was a challenge, eating even more so. Simply standing without bracing ourselves was an impossible feat. Every time we tried to regain our balance, we were thrown from side to side, and there was no relief from the motion. It was hardly the peaceful escape we envisioned.
It was time to bring out the flopper stoppers.
Deploying the Flopper Stoppers: A Hope for Stability
For those unfamiliar as I was when Tyler proposed the option of a flapper stopper, they’re a contraption designed to reduce a boat’s rolling while anchored. These clever devices work by creating resistance as they are pulled through the water, helping to reduce the rocking that plagues boats in swelly anchorages.
They’re simple in theory—long lines attached to rectangular steel frames with flexible plastic panels cut into triangular flaps that act like underwater brakes. Every time the boat tries to roll to one side, the flaps on the flopper stopper open on that side will drop deeper into the water while the opposite side is pulled upward against the motion and the flaps close creating resistance. They promise to offer relief by slowing the roll of the boat as described by https://www.schoonerman.com/seamanship-skills/flopperstopper.html. In theory, they would ease our discomfort.
In practice, the side-to-side rocking continued, albeit to a lesser degree. We still felt somewhat trapped in a floating pinball machine and although the flopper stoppers were not a miracle cure, at least they helped a little.
A Brief Escape to Shore
Finally, after a day of battling the constant rolling motion, a brief lull in the wind and the sea swell allowed us to escape the boat for a while. Covered in bruises from being tossed around, we jumped into the dinghy and headed for shore, eager for the stability of solid ground. I can’t tell you how good it felt to stand up straight after what felt like an eternity of being on a relentless see-saw.
Our legs, rubbery from the constant swaying, struggled to adjust to the steady earth beneath us, but it felt like pure freedom. My legs wobbled like jelly, and for a moment, I almost forgot how to walk on land.
For a brief hour we took in the island’s beauty, a stark contrast to the chaos we’d just experienced on the water. The rocky landscape of Isla Carmen and the warm sand under our feet provided a much-needed reprieve and reaffirmed our excitement for this adventure.
Leaving Ballandra Onward toward Agua Verde
After two sleepless, wind-tossed nights, we’d had enough of Bahia Ballandra. The bay, though undeniably beautiful, had worn out its welcome. The weather forecast offered a small window of calm, and we were ready to take it. With the wind easing slightly, we weighed anchor and headed toward our next destination, Agua Verde. Our hope? A calmer anchorage and a chance to rediscover the joys of living onboard our sailboat without the constant battle with the elements.
The journey wasn’t without its challenges, but as we sailed away from the relentless swell of Ballandra, there was a palpable sense of relief. Sailing, after all, is as much about enduring the hard moments as it is about chasing the perfect ones.
