” …sailing into danger…. “

The trip to Cartagena thus far had been fairly painless, but staggeringly long. The winds, which had cooperated fairly well through the first night, became adverse. It also didn’t help that we were sailing head-on into a current that had to be pushing against Andiamo at the rate of 3-4 knots. Considering a usual trip from Panama to Cartagena takes about 30 to 35 hours on average, it was clear that we weren’t going to be making it in anywhere near that time.

After about 36 hours’ of transiting, we still had a good 35+ miles to go before getting to Cartagena. It could have been worse though. Earlier in the afternoon, the winds went from being hard on the nose, to next to nothing, then revived again coming from the Southeast. Considering that the winds almost NEVER blow from that direction, this was an unusual gift. I was able to take advantage of this strange, freakish breeze to get Andiamo moving on course for Cartagena again. In the time span of the three or so hours that wind lasted, Andiamo gained another 20 miles, narrowing the distance considerably.

So it’s now the beginning of the second night, with still 35 or so miles to go, and Andiamo is sailing nicely again. The tradewinds had picked up, and we were moving again without the need for diesel power, pointing for Cartagena pretty well for a change. We were now a good 20+ miles off the Islas Rosarios making good time for Cartagena. Hopefully the winds would hold up for another 5-6 hours to blow Andiamo into Cartagena’s harbor. Having made a few night approaches into the city’s Boca Grande’s port entrance, I’ve come to really enjoy doing them under sail.

While down below doing some navigation, and checking on things, one of the passengers calls down to let me know that there’s a boat coming up ahead. I go above decks to see what’s up, and notice that it’s actually more than one boat. There’s a large ship, probably a freighter that’s pretty well lit up, and not far off its starboard side is a smaller faster boat, equipped with a strong searchlight. I then notice yet another boat jetting around that’s also fast moving, and has a yellow beacon light flashing on its superstructure. At first I thought it might have been a military patrol boat, or the Colombian coast guard, but had never seen one that had a YELLOW light, usually they’re blue or red.

The strange erratic movements of the two other boats, and the relative non-movement of the large ship they’re surrounding starts to look more and more odd. I’m not really sure what to make of it. About that time, I start hearing more and more radio chatter on the VHF’s open channel. It’s in spanish, and after a couple of call outs from one of the nearby boats, I hear a call that says “Velero, Velero, (sailboat, sailboat), hay una emergencia en curso (there is an emergency in progress)…” I respond back in my best spanish, giving them the name of my boat, and asking the other station to identify themselves, and what kind of emergency is occurring. I also ask if any assistance is needed.

The same guy answers back now saying something along the lines that we were sailing into danger and needed to divert course immediately. Not long after he says that, another boat gets on the channel asking me to go to a different channel. It’s a french boat captain, who says to me in English… “Sailboat Andiamo, you are sailing into danger. You need to immediately do a starboard tack in the direction of the Rosarios. Repeat, you are SAILING INTO DANGER!”.

A little shocked, I acknowledge and immediately head to the cockpit. I tell the passengers we have to change course immediately. I have one of the passengers shut off the boat’s running lights, and call for a tack. Not really knowing what the danger situation was, I didn’t want to be tracked visually by any of the boats in the vicinity. For all I knew, it could have been a pirate attack in progress, rivaling drug runners, or something along those lines. I tried not to let my imagination get the best of me, especially since I have never seen any real problems of that sort in these waters. But I didn’t feel like hanging around to find out. Since the radio conversation had me being advised to take a starboard tack, I instead decide to head northwest instead of southeast for a while to see what the other boats would do. They could have very well heard the conversation on the radio, and known which way I was going to go.

The passengers are getting nervous, as am I. If it was indeed a pirate attack going on, or any kind of drug runners, they would be able to catch up to us with no problem at all. Andiamo, being just a sailboat with an auxiliary diesel engine, is no match to a powerboat with major horsepower. By keeping the lights off, it would be difficult for them to track us visually, especially if we change course in the dark. If they have radar however, they would still be able to track us. All I can do is hope that we can stay hidden in the dark, and that “they” don’t have radar.

After heading NW for about 20 or so minutes, it appears that the boats have not deviated from whatever maneuvers they were doing when we stumbled upon them. We were lucky to have been able to keep a fair distance from them, several miles at least, when I got the first call on the radio. I also still had to consider the possibility that at least one of those boats was some kind of military or coast guard craft. I decide to tack towards the Rosarios, taking us Southeast. We’re now moving at over 7 knots towards the Rosarios, about 20 miles away.

After being on this new course for about 10 minutes, we notice that the boat with the yellow flashing beacon light is now coming right at us at full speed. It’s closing in fast. Everybody is really getting nervous now, not knowing what to expect next. I decide that I want to know if that oncoming boat is indeed coast guard. I get on the radio and hail “Guardacosta Guardacosta! Necesitamos asistencia! (need assistance)”.

After hailing this two times, I get a response. The respondent says that they are a coast guard boat, and they are approaching me so I can follow them. At first I’m a little suspicious. It seemed odd that they would come running straight for us without trying to hail us on the radio first, or trying to tell me that we’re not following a good course. I start asking for details on the emergency, and the coast guard boat responds that I need to follow them immediately. I again find myself suspicious, though less so. At the same time, the french guy comes back on the radio again, and says that the boat approaching me is indeed coast guard. It’s the same boat that intercepted him and sent them to the Rosarios as well. I can trust them.

I felt a surge of relief pass through the whole boat, when it became clear that the oncoming boat was indeed coast guard. They get close enough for us to get a clear visual on them, and we proceed to follow them. They escort for the next ten or so miles before telling us we are safe and can now continue on to Cartagena. I never really found out exactly what the actual emergency was, but am inclined to believe that a freighter was intercepted after leaving Cartagena by the coast guard, presumably because they had a payload of cocaine onboard. At some point shots were fired. This raised the stakes, apparently.

Though shook up, everybody takes the experience in stride. Within the next hour or so, life returns back to normal for the rest of the trip. A little over 42 hours after leaving San Blas, the winds stay with us long enough to blow Andiamo into Cartagena’s harbor, aglow with city lights.