15-39.562N
088-59.585W
Anchored
Shell Bay (by the Shell station)
Near Rio Dulce (aka the town of Fronteras)
Guatemala
Monday, October 31
Halloween
The party at Mario's was fine: dozens of cruisers dressed like Barbie, Ernest,
vampires and more. Good music. Food. Fun
If a slip is available, we will dock at Mario's, in a couple of weeks, after
we have explored Lake Izabal. We do not look forward to docking, because
it heralds the start of work on the boat. Still, Rio Dulce is a lovely
town which has received us very well. We are anchored in a small bay
by the big bridge. Lots of old friends here, such as Namiste, Barnacle,
Picasso and Griffin. This truly is a small world.
15-47.216N
088-49.755W
Anchored
NE of Cayo Grande, El Golfete
Near Livingston, Guatemala
Wednesday, October 26
When the Very High Frequency band permits, we can hear plans for a Halloween
party at Rio Dulce, about ten miles west of us. The primary effect on
us is to make us think of home and family.
Since anchoring near the home of Jennifer, we sailed 2 1/2 miles to this
location, near Las Palafitos, a restaurant, and Biotopo Chocon Machacas, the
headquarters of the marine sanctuary which is to protect manatees. The
45 minute walking tour at Biotopo was worth the stop, particularly since the
workers gave Chichi a cut out of a bamboo stalk. Bamboo is one of the
world's most significant construction materials, strong as steel, widely
available, easy to manage. In China, we saw scaffolding up fifteen stories
or more, all made of bamboo. A stalk grows as much as six inches--per
day.
15-45.182N
088-50.527W
Anchored
El Golfete
"Third Bay" on the north side
Near home of Jennifer
Sunday, October 23d
Wilma has abandoned the Yucatan, and seems aimed at Cape Sable, Florida,
where she will inflict her wrath. At the moment, our hearts are with
the people of Isla Mujeres which might have been inundated with storm surge
as well as blown to bits. We will know nothing for several days, until the
news filters through the various cruiser radio nets. The people of
Isla Mujeres received us well. They took care of us, introduced us
to Mexico, and gave us safe harbor. We hope they are well. Also,we
have friends in
Tampa, Sarasota, Naples, Punta Gorda, and Sanibel. Someone among
them will have to deal with Wilma, the only sensible course being to leave.
Friday, October 21
Wilma has missed us, but is causing major problems for Mexico, and will
cause problems for Florida and The Bahamas. This might be the most
violent hurricane year on record, and Wilma herself set one record. At
one point, she had minimum central pressure of 882 millibars, the lowest on
record. We wish well to all our friends in its path.
Before leaving Rio Tatin, we stopped by Ak'Tenamit, where Diana Santana,
from Colombia, told us about volunteer opportunities. Generally, they want
three month live-in commitments in everything from teaching language and
hospitality to providing technical services such as mechanical repairs. This
looks like a very effective organization, with comprehensive health and dental
care services, a teaching restaurant, and seminars on how to make and to sell
local crafts.
Jennifer is an American expatriate. She came here from Minnesota
with her husband, by boat, twenty years ago. They acquired land,
then built a beautiful home and garden. She raises Tilapia and lobster,
orchids, and fruits. She is an artist who also watches boats for
boaters, helps boaters with personal needs such as laundry, and, on request,
cooks a first class home style meal, which we enjoyed last night. Chichi
plans to teach her water exercises for her hip problem.. Her daughter,
Jessica, runs the most popular restaurant up the river. It is called
La Lancha. Coincidentally, we met Jessica and her boy friend in Placencia.
We even have pictures to give them. We believe most of Jennifer's
electric power is solar. She was able, years ago, to dig a first class
well that provides water for her and for her neighbors. She has no
road connections. She does everything by boat, including going to
a village market near by, and to the major markets of Rio Dulce where large
numbers of yachts are docked at marinas.
Our present anchorage is one of the finest and most pleasant we ever
have experienced. Being on a smaller fresh water lake, waves seldom
cause motion, and the fresh water is wonderful for bathing, cleaning and
swimming. Sunrises and sunsets are extraordinary. So far, Guatemala
is among our top sailing destinations.
(written several hours later)
Delightful morning. Local folks took John to a village market, while
Chichi taught Jennifer. Nearby, two couples are carving out living
space on property recently purchased. One couple works off their small
catamaran. The other we have not seen. Everything comes here by
water: cement, lumber, nails, food. What an adventure for young
people.
15-46.869N
88-48.028W
Anchored
Confluence of El Rio Dulce and Rio Tatin
Sunday, October 16
Watching Wilma. Please go away, but don't hurt anyone!
Chito is our friend. He paddled by in his Cayuco, whistling loud
and clear, probably not to be seen again. But, later, we took the
dink up Rio Tatin, past the Ak'Tenamit Museum and Craft Center, where we
ran into shoal water, with killer rocks waiting to destroy our outboard
propeller. And there was Chito, waving us forward, guiding us through
the perilous creek, until the end, where water cascades down an insurmountable
rapid. We were at the watering hole, the place that Mayan families
go routinely, at least weekly, for fresh and clean water, to be stored in
any available container, including covered buckets and old large plastic
bottles that once housed Pepsi. We stayed with him while he filled
his containers, then talked for almost an hour. Chichi said she wanted
to go swimming. He said, OK, and he was on his way, while we had lunch
at the craft center.
About 2 p.m., we heard a sound, like a yell: "Chi
Chi; Chi Chi; Chichi." But we could
not identify the source. A few minutes later, a cayuco with two boys
pulls up and tells us that Chito wants to swim with Chichi. There
he is, 200 yards north, outside his sister's home, waiting for us. Turns
out, he is a former tour guide and an accomplished poet. He aspires
to go to the United States, and almost achieved his goal a couple of years
ago. The love of his life is in New York. He wants to be there
too.
"Ak'Tenamit," a Mayan word meaning new town or new world, is an international
project based on donations and volunteers from around the world. We
might volunteer ourselves, and we have placed a link on this web site.
They provide medical and dental care, education, and practical training
in tourism and agriculture for the people of this area. Two volunteers,
in their own cayuco, stopped by to say hello: Sandra and Stasis from
Greece. Having been here five months, helping to build sanitary systems,
they leave today or tomorrow for Nicaragua, and there down to Peru and
Bolivia, before returning to "real life" in five or six months.
In thirty minutes, we are to join Chito and his family for Coconut,
or something. (John is not a big fan of Coconut, but, in the name
of good international relations . . . .)
-----
(Following written several hours later.)
As agreed, we met Chito on the dock for original, right-off-the-tree
coconut milk. He then introduced us to his sister Patricia, and an
American friend, Bobby, stopped by in his cayuco. According to another
plan, Chuck and Susan from Sea Trek came down our way for a visit to aguas
calientes. We had not known them before, but, as tradition goes, one
cruiser always knows another. We spent an hour in the hot water, a
great benefit to us, because we got a complete briefing on the marina situation
further up the river. After a quick nap and lunch, we picked up Chito,
ran up the Rio Tatin to meet his sister who was making break for herself
and for us. Patricia invited us to dinner, but 'twas not the right
day for us. No matter how you shake it, we had a good day on El Rio
Dulce where some of the friendliest people in the world produce some of
the finest smiles we have seen.
15-49.369N
088-44.893W
Anchored
Rio Dulce
Near Livingston
Guatemala
Thursday, October 13
More than 500 bureaucrats stormed our boat on anchoring off the town
dock. They arrived less than ten minutes after we secured the anchor,
made themselves at home in our cockpit, and proceeded to fill out the usual
forms.
(The real count was one health official, one customs official, one
immigration official, and the captain of the port, plus a support staff
of two in the launch., including Gustavo Chagi, whom we will meet again
in a moment.)
This welcoming crew was the friendliest and most accommodating we
have met. They extended their hands and hearts, and welcomed us
to Guatemala, while making sure that we would visit their offices next
day to pay required fees, which cover three months. The total was about
$75.
If it is possible, the people of Livingston are warmer and more friendly
than our friends in Honduras. But that is impossible to measure.
What we noticed first was a more relaxed life style, with few automobiles,
unlike La Ceiba which is a booming auto and taxi town. (It is easier
to get around La Ceiba than Indianapolis. Taxis are everywhere, and
take you anywhere, for 75 cents a person.)
After clearing and taking down our quarantine flag, we moved about
1000 yards up river to a more relaxed anchorage, with special charms of
its own. Off our starboard side are trees which, starting about 5
p.m., become the overnight homes of hundreds of birds. A few feet
beyond us half a dozen fishing boats are moored. They leave about
6 p.m., and return about 6 a.m. What a life. Meanwhile, fast
launches pass every few minutes, as do small canoe like boats with one to
three occupants. These look like hard work.
With one special break, we have spent our time getting rid of the
dust and dirt of a shipyard, and, now, Pachamama seems like her old self.
The special break was a side trip in our dinghy to Los Siete Altares,
with Chagi as guide. He ran into us at the bank when we changed money.
He has a line a mile long and a maturity uncommon for a 19-year-old.
It took less than ten minutes for us to agree to have him as a guide.
It was worth it. He showed us the location, carried our cooler,
helped our balance along the rocky river, and told us all about himself.
Sadly, he is an epileptic, but apparently under control with medication.
Chichi brought sandwiches and cold drink. Chagi jumped off a
40 foot cliff into the highest pool of this cascading creek. We were
not tempted to jump, but his action did prompt us to swim in, and to enjoy
a time under the falling water.
Another fine stop for us was Bugamamas, a restaurant on the waterfront.
Chichi had a vegetable soup of milk coconut plus vegetables we did
not recognize. Excellent. And, we like the name of the restaurant.
We are at the mouth of El Rio Dulce. Tomorrow, we will head
five miles up to the intersection with El Rio Tatin, where we plan to
anchor a few days.
15-47.321N
086-45.637W
Docked
La Ceiba Shipyard
Honduras
Saturday, October 8
Having paid our bills and completed most projects, we are preparing
to leave, manana, Sunday.
Chichi has done yeomen's work arranging for a cockpit screen that
surrounds the entire area. It will reduce sun, block most rain, even
keep out a few mosquitoes, we hope. Then, she started cutting Sunbrella
to fit over our plastic glass panels around the dodger, for temporary placement
when we are in port. These will block sun, and lengthen the useful
lives of the panels.
Lee Lamb (from Indianapolis) and his girl friend Jasmine took us
to dinner last Sunday at a resort east of here. This is first class,
a club med style facility that gives everything for one price, including
all meals. It looked like fun for persons seeking a week of relaxation
and pampering. The night before, on our own, we celebrated football
Central American style. The final score was 1-0 in favor of Victoria.
Tuesday we went by ferry to Roatan, one of the Honduran "Bay Islands,"
a two hour ride at the jet age speed of 20 knots or more. The West
End development has good cabins for $50 a night. We chose The Cristal
Beach Cabins. Among our favorite characters there was the drunk who did
gymnastic turns holding onto a roof rafter. Had he lost his touch,
he would have fallen sixty feet to the water below. We suspect a
normal person resides behind that extended beard, but we cannot prove it.
Perhaps a better point is that everyone stops by to talk: bar tenders,
restaurant owners and managers, water taxi drivers. A bit west of
West End is West Bay, home of a classic Caribbean Beach. We spent
most of a day there, Chichi swimming, John reading and having a message.
Having not sailed since early July, the prospect of leaving daunting.
The circumstances appear to be safe, normal, smooth and routine,
but not having been out for a while, we feel an unfamiliarity. This
will only be a 120 nm trip, about 20 hours. Monday morning, we will
anchor a few hours, waiting for the afternoon's high tide that will facilitate
crossing of "the bar," the only challenge on the trip. The bar is
a sand bar at about 5 1/2 feet at mean low water. High tide will add
at least a foot to that, giving barely enough room for our six foot draft.
The story is that if we get stuck, boats will rush to our assistance
from Livingston, probably to charge us an arm and leg to pull us off and
over. We will make it without assistance, I hope.