Jessica – Page 71 – Matt & Jessica's Sailing Page

A Day of Firsts

Saturday August 3, 2013

Our dorm room was pitch black, it was like a cave inside. There was a small frosted window that was illuminated by a fluorescent light outside, one kept on for 24 hours a day, so I had no idea what time it was. When our roommate silently slipped out of his bunk and out the door, I figured it had to be around 6 am since he had been in bed for so long. I closed my eyes again, even though I was fully awake, until Ana Bianca peered her head down to my bunk, apparently awake as long as I had been, and informed me that it was close to 8 am. Well crap. With the full day ahead we had planned, sleeping in was not one of them. Trading my sweatpants for jeans, I tiptoed barefoot out the door and to the bar area to see what was being served for breakfast. Besides a few other early risers, all on their smartphones or laptops, the area was quiet and empty. Sitting alone for a few minutes, I decided to quickly run back to the room to grab my laptop and then settled myself at one of the larger tables that was just vacated by a group of young girls that had just been picked up by a bus. Since a two day trip had my bag crammed full and I still have no idea what I’ll fit in there to last me six weeks through Michigan and South America, I was tempted to ask them, “How did you pack for this trip? What is in your backpacks?!”, as they were walking out the door, but I’m sure a conversation such as that between girls would have taken much longer than the 15 seconds of time they had on their hands. Instead, I waited for Ana to join me, where we browsed the extensive breakfast menu and were soon served large plates of food that rivaled any cafe back home. The reviews were not lying when they said it was worth coming to this place for its breakfast alone.

Changing out of the rest of my pajamas and packing up my new messenger bag, the two of us hit the streets for a little sightseeing before our 11:00 massage. Every building in the town was beautiful, but it dawned on me even more how commercial this city is, and having a boutique or upscale restaurant or jewelry store on every doorstep made the place lose some of its Guatemalan authenticity. It was definitely a town that catered to tourist, and it showed. That’s not to say that Guatemala isn’t entitled to its own European like upscale towns, but in my mind, the facades reminded me too much of Trinidad in Cuba, which I preferred, but the vibes of these two towns were so vastly different.

One of the upscale shops we went into was a Mayan Jade store. Jade carvings were everywhere as well as all different kinds of jewelry like that 18th birthday jewellery. My first mistake was picking up any of the items, and my second mistake was trying them on in front of the mirror. The rings, the necklaces, they were all so beautiful and the words girls weekend kept popping in my head. I deserved to treat myself to a little something, right? I’ve been so good for so long, not having asked for anything since the $2 root bracelet I bought on our waterfall day back in Jamaica. I went through a stack of rings, trying every single one on, and then finally deciding on one, when I went in a back room to see where Ana Bianca had strayed off to. Inside was a tower of necklaces and keychains, each with a symbol on the front and a word on the back.

Speaking to a man that worked there, we found out that they were the Mayan symbols for your birthday, and kind of like astrology, had something to say about you based on when you were born. Flipping through book to find my own (based on the month, date, and year of your birth), I found out I was Aq’ab’al, or the bat. The salesman picked up a necklace with my symbol and handed it to me along with a card describing that symbol. Just as soon as I had decided I could part with a few dollars for a ring with a small jade bead on it, I was now in love with a necklace that bore my Mayan symbol for about three times more money. Damn. Oh well, at least it will be personal and have meaning. I can’t say I love what the card had to say about me though. ‘Early riser’? I think not. ‘They tend to get ill, to get mugged, or be pursued’. Thanks for the vote of confidence of good things to come.

After prettying myself up with some jewelry, it was time for us to make our massage appointment. Now it was very beneficial I had Ana Bianca as my translator, because even though just about every other shop in this town spoke English, this one did not. Even though we signed up for a couples massage I guess I didn’t expect that they’d follow through on the ‘couples’ part of it, but we were lead into a room that had two massage tables side by side. Ana Bianca was instructed, and then relayed to me, that we were supposed to strip down and then lay face down on the table with the towels covering our behinds. On her way out, allowing us time to undress, the woman turned down the light and put on romantic music. Ana Bianca and I kind of eyed each other and then burst out laughing, half expecting Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s Get It On’ to start playing.

After we were each situated on our tables the women came back and asked of we were ready, explaining to each of us what they’d do. Ana Bianca was getting the deep tissue, but I was getting the hot stone, and I just nodded to everything the woman said in Spanish, pretending I understood what was going on. Since this was my first massage ever I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but I had a feeling that due to my slight frame the massuse would be go too easy on me for fear of accidentally breaking or bruising something, so I had asked just before she came in how to say ‘stronger’ in Spanish. And true to my premonition, although the massage felt excellent, it was lighter than I could handle. But with my face buried in a towel it never felt like the right time to roll over and say anything, so I went with the flow and enjoyed the oils and hot stones. It was one of the most enjoyable and relaxing hours of my life, and I may have to start requesting more of these now.

Like my new necklace?

“There’s nothing wrong with me…lovin you…”

Another great thing about our girls weekend to Antigua is that Nacho and Annica were coming over from Guatemala City to see us. After we’d gone back to the hostel and washed the oily residues off our skin, we went back out to the city square to meet our friends. Upon seeing them we were greeted with hugs and quickly ushered ourselves into a cafe to warm ourselves up from the drizzles that were springing up outside. They asked what we’d been up to with our time there and we filled them in with the things we’d done, along with the fact that we’d just grabbed lunch at a popular place up the road with giant nacho’s called Monoloco’s (thanks for the recommendation, Nate!). Nacho replied that he was friends with the owner, Jean-Louis, and that we were actually scheduled to visit his home in Antigua in just a little bit to enjoy some cheese and wine. What are the odds…

Before we stopped by there though, Nacho and Annica wanted to take us on a tour through a very old monastery. The Capuchin Convent was completed in 1736 and today is partially complete and partially in ruins. We didn’t have long, but we roamed through the grounds with Nacho giving a narrative on the parts he knew. We saw the very small and sparse living quarters for those residing there and appreciated the architecture that was still standing after the Santa Marta earthquakes in 1773.

With not much daylight left on our hands now, we one of the winding roads up to Jean-Louise’s home. Even though he had never met Ana Bianca or myself before, he eagerly welcomed us into his home, and an avid sailor himself, wanted to know all about our lifestyles, our boats, and our passages. While Ana Bianca, who knows much more about boats than I do, went in depth about her boat and how it handles, I took a few moments to look around his beautiful home that was perched up in the hills of one of the volcanoes that towered over the town. It was a mix of modern and African safari, had a great balcony with gorgeous views, and I instantly fell in love with it. Opening up a bottle of wine while Nacho made more croquettes in the kitchen while the rest of us sat at the table, sampling cheeses and talking about travels.

Jean-Louise was quite a character, and quite a traveler as well. As one bottle of wine turned into another and another, he shared stories of his past travels and Nacho would jump in at points on trips they took together. We were all having such a good time that we almost didn’t realize it was time to leave for our eight o’clock dinner reservation in town. All of us piled into Nacho’s SUV and wound down the roads back to town and the conversation continued in Spanish, surprisingly with me having an understanding of 40% of what was going on. Or at least, I knew it was about politics and social economics. Thanks Michel Thomas for interjecting those words in my studies! Apparently, they did come in handy.

Ana Bianca, Annica, and Dan.

The five of us had a wonderful dinner together in town at a restaurant that was famous for its onion soup, and it did not disappoint. It was actually so filling that I could not even order an entree, although the did have steak on the menu, and a tender medium-rare piece of meat was sounding very good at that moment. But between the nacho’s at Jean-Louis’ restaurant, the cheese and croquettes from Nacho, and now the soup, I did not have the ability to take another bite of anything. That was, until I saw the dessert menu with a Nutella crepe listed on there. I know this sounds kind of silly, but just about every travel blog I’ve ever read has its travelers going worldwide and yet each of them has found Nutella crepes at one place or another and has raved about them. On our own little trip, I’d only spied them once before, at a roadside stand in Utila. The first time we passed by we had no cash, but I made Matt promise that we’d visit again. That never happened. So when I saw them again on this dessert menu in Antigua, Nacho must have seen my face light up like a Christmas tree because he was quickly asking if I wanted one. I shyly nodded yes while mentioning that I’d never had one before and always wanted to try it, but what I wanted to scream was “Oh my god yes, I can’t live without it!”. When it was placed down at the table with five other forks I did my best to take slow bites and offer it to everyone else around the table as well. But who was I kidding. They knew just as well as I did that this was a dream dessert for me, so after each taking a bite just to sample, they let me devour the rest on my own. It was heaven.

A Girls Weekend to Antigua

Friday August 2, 2013

Since our ill fated attempt at Honduras the other week didn’t work out, we had our backup plan to spend a weekend in Antigua. Â But when it came down to buying the tickets for the 5 hour bus ride to get there, only the girls were able to pull themselves away from their boat work and say they still wanted to go. Â Or in my case, Spanish lessons, since boat work is a blue job. Â If that last comment disturbed you, don’t worry. Â I had fluently Spanish speaking Ana Bianca by my side to still enforce some lessons on me. Â So we decided to turn this trip into a girls weekend where it was ok to straighten hair and wear make-up and pack a dress, without any rolled eyes or comments of “Are you ready yet?” Â It was to be some time away from the boat, anything related to the boat, and for a few days, and opportunity to forget I even owned a boat. Â (Because after a year of living on a boat, it’s nice to get away from it for a couple days, just to keep your sanity). Â Most importantly though, it was time to have some fun, instead of solely focusing on projects, which we’ve been doing for the past six weeks.

Matt took us into town on the dinghy and walked us to the bus station where I apparently couldn’t even cross the street in my Sperry’s without sliding and taking a tumble, scraping myself up as if I was back in grade school. Â I am so utterly graceful sometimes.

Â The bags were thrown below deck, and I gave Matt a big hug and kiss good-bye, as if I weren’t about to see him for another month. Â The bus took off, and I realized immediately that leaving my coat inside my bag below was a horrible decision. Â That bus turned out to be a refrigerator. Â I tried to distract myself from the cold by watching the movies playing overhead, all in Spanish with no subtitles of course, but still followed along with the plots pretty well. Â Paul Blart, Mall Cop, I already knew, and Hachiko had me wiping tears by the end. Â Stupid endearing animal stories, they’re the only thing that can make me well up each time. Â When The Blind Side came on, I couldn’t let myself watch it without fully appreciating it, so instead I turned my attention out the window. Â By this time we were coming up on Guatemala City anyway, where we’d transfer buses, and it was fun to enjoy the sights of a big city again. Â I had to hold in my excitement of asking the driver to stop when we passed by a McDonald’s.

Â It was a mad dash to our next bus once we got there since our first one had been running behind, and Ana Bianca had just enough time to grab us a ham and ketchup sandwich from inside while I used the bathroom before we were off again. Â This time though, instead of a large bus, we were in one of those 12 seat vans, just like the collectivo we took to Morales. Â This one was only carrying five people instead of twenty-eight though, so the ride was much more comfortable. Â It was a short 45 minute drive out of the city where we were dropped off at the main square in Antigua. Â Three volcanoes surrounded us on each side, and the air was crisp and fresh as we stepped out into it. Â With an altitude of 5,000 feet, the air was also much cooler than in the Rio Dulce, and the jeans I packed were suddenly very necessary as the temperature had dropped 15 degrees from what I was used to experiencing every day now.

Â The first order of business was to find a hostel that night. Â I’d researched a few online, but we wanted to see them in person before forking over our money. Â The first place we stopped at would offer us a private room for about $30, but it didn’t seem to have much of an atmosphere and was a little far from the town center. Â The second place looked more promising, but once we saw the beds in the dorm, it looked as if the mattresses were only 1/4″ thick. Â Third time happened to be the charm, and even though the beds didn’t look quite as comfortable as one would hope, the price was right at $8/night, and it included a large breakfast in the morning. Â We paid our money, locked up our bags, and went out to explore town.

Since this was a girls weekend, Ana Bianca and I had talked about getting massages while I was out there. Â I thought we were just joking around about actually being ‘girly’, so when we passed by a salon with a massage parlor, I pointed it out to her. Â Or more accurately, I pointed out the sign on the sidewalk that was offering couples massages at buy one, get one half off. Â I looked at her and smirked, “We could pass for a couple, right?”. Â To my surprise, she walked in to the counter to ask more questions and then handed me a flyer and asked if I’d prefer a hot stone massage or a deep tissue one. Â I laughed that I was just kind of joking about the massage thing, and that Matt would probably kill me if he knew I was off on a girls weekend getting one, knowing that we’re supposed to be scrimping around the edges even more than normal to try and compensate for our South America trip coming up. Â I told her that it was fine if she still wanted to get one, I could find something to keep myself busy for the hour or so she was being pampered. Â She agreed and starting filling out an appointment card for the next day, and turned to ask when my last massage was anyway. Â “Never”, I answered, and she went back to filling out the card. Â Two minutes later she grabbed a receipt from the receptionist and turned to me “We’re booked for a couple’s massage tomorrow at 11. Â It’s my birthday gift to you”. Â I was baffled. Â I seriously keep making friends with the best people ever.

Â For the rest of the afternoon we wandered around the cobblestone streets and looked in the little shops. Â There were so many beautiful things for sale, bags, shoes, blankets, bows, vases…I was pretty sure that I could take a blank home and decorate with items solely bought from this town. Â Each item I’d come across, I’d pick up and admire, and then carefully place back down because I knew that even if I did have the money to spend on it, I wouldn’t have a place to put it. Â I did allow myself once purchase though, something I’d seen back in Morales and I’d wanted one ever since then. Â A messenger style bag made from a burlap material with a screen print on it. Â By my logic, while we’re in South America, we’re going to need something to lug around the camera, and the guidebook, and the Spanish to English dictionary, and I don’t think either of us is going to want to use the backpack for that. Â See, it wasn’t even an impulse buy, it was a necessity.

The two of us had a quick dinner in a Burger King since I hadn’t eaten at one in almost two months, and spent a little time on the internet at the hostel before going back out again to see what the nightlife of Antigua had to offer. Â Right across the street from our hostel seemed to be a raging club with a line that wrapped around the block. Â We had no idea what could be so excited, but whatever it was, we thought it probably wasn’t worth waiting around an hour and a half for. Â Instead we walked through a few more shops and markets before ending at a Mexican bar near the arch for a nitecap. Â Although the place was thumping and there were plenty of young gringos that we could have hung around with (this town seems to be overrun with gringos, actually) we were still on boat time and pulled ourselves away after only one drink. Â Deciding to call it a night we went back to our six bed dorm where we found out that our other three roommates were already asleep. Â At 10:30. Â Guess we’re not the old boring people after all.

The view from our hostel.

I can See Clearly Now the Acrylic Plastic is Gone

Wednesday July 31, 2013

There has finally been a boat project (half) completed on Serndipity where we can actually see the results. Â Not that our half varnished glossy interior isn’t an indication that things are getting done, but today we were able to complete something that Serendipity has been needing for a long, long time.

When we bought her, she came with deadlights (or non opening windows, in landlubber terms) made out of acrylic plastic, and the years had been taking a beating on them. Â They were getting cracked, way beyond hazy, and no matter how many times we cleaned or polished or buffed them, it was only a matter of time before they went back to their previous state. Â Perfect for when you’re in a marina where your neighbor can only see fuzzy outlines of what might be happening inside, but not very useful for the rest of the time you’re on the water and would actually like a clear picture of what is going on outside. Â Which is, 90% of the time.

This is a project we had been back and forth about ever since we bought the boat, and almost took care of those months spent on the hard in St. Augustine, but due to the money we were hemorrhaging on other projects, we decided to hold off. Â That is, until we were on Luis’ boat admiring his tempered glass. Â They really were beautiful, custom made, and fit to perfection. Â It was also then that we found out that he had actually had his glass replaced while in Guatemala, using a company based in Antigua. Â The best part? Â He mentioned that it was incredibly cheap. Â We like incredibly cheap!

Long story short, he contacted this company on our behalf to get an estimate, we replied with measurements, and found out that we could replace all four of our deadlights for about $35. Â Back in Florida, we were looking at close to $200. Â Between a few phone calls, emails, one money order, and three weeks later, we were picking up our new windows from impact doors – Impact Glass USA, where they had been shipped to the local bus company. Â Don’t ask me why, I do not know. Â All I do know, is when we finally lugged the crate from town back to the docks, Matt was like a kid in a candy store while opening it up. Â All in all, our new package included the two starboard side deadlights we had popped out and initially shipped in for a perfect match on sizing, four new deadlights, and three tubes of Dow Corning 795 to seal the new windows to the boat.

Â Now I don’t feel as bad when I misspell a foreign name.

“Oooooh! Â Gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme!”

Oh my god, you can actually see through it.

Since our old glass was already out on the starboard side, we wanted to work as quickly as possible to get the new glass in. Â The same afternoon we were picking up the package, we were able to position the new deadlights into place using a few screws on the outside of the boat (they didn’t go through the glass, but were placed below the glass for it to sit upon, and above to keep it in position). Â Matt took a tube of the Dow 795 and ran it along the edge of where the glass met the inside of the boat, and as he ran back out on deck to keep it in place, I took a plastic blade, smoothing out the edge, and then cleaned up any smudges with mineral solvent. Â Of which, there were plenty.

That part needed to set overnight (or approximately 12 hours) before we could do the outside, so we thought we’d wake up with the sun to finish the starboard side completely. Â Typical reaction as the alarm clock went off at 6:00, we hit the snooze for another three hours of sleep. Â When we did wake up, the sun was baking and we were not looking forward to sitting out in it, even for an hour. Â Working as a team again, we had the plan that I would work the caulk gun, and before the sealant had any chance of hardening up in the heat of the day and become tacky, even in the two or three minutes it would take for me to go all the way around, Matt would be following right behind me with the plastic blade to smooth out the edges. Â These did not have pretty frames to cover up imperfections like the interior, so the calk needed to be even and precise.

For the most part we did really well, I’d create a steady bead of sealant coming out, and Matt would be six inches behind with the blade, smoothing it down to perfection. Â The first deadlight was a little iffy (editors note: we ended up ripping out and redoing that one), but the second one was as close to perfection as the two of us were going to get. Â There was one ‘oh shit’ moment on the second window where we were cleaning up after a few smudges with the mineral solvent, and a finger indented the freshly laid caulk. Â Luckily, another squirt of 750 and some magic finger work from me had it 95% smoothed out again. Â As we always like to say to each other when something didn’t go exactly as we had wanted, “It’s good enough for who it’s for”.

Since we were only able to get three tubes of the Dow Corning 795, and we expect that we’ll need 4-5 to properly do all windows, the port side will be held off on until we can do some shopping in the States and pick up a few more tubes.

Â Old acrylic plastic. Â Can’t. See. S#%t.

Â New tempered glass. Â It’s like….looking through glass!

Our ill Fated Attempt at Honduras

Friday Â July 26, 2013

You know how most great adventures start, right? Â Usually over a drink, or at least good food, where one person ponders out loud, “You know what would be fun?”, as they go into detail about trying something off your beaten path or that hadn’t entered your mind. Â And since you’re enjoying your drink or your favorable food, you cock your head and stare off into the distance and reply, “That does sound like a good idea.”. Â And so began plans for our ill-fated trip to Honduras. Â The dinner club was sitting on the top deck of Hydromax, basking in starlight with spaghetti and meatballs when Luis pondered, “You know what would be fun? Â We should all take a trip to Honduras, to the Bay Islands, in my boat. Â Be gone for a week or two. Â It will be a good time”.

Even though there are huge amounts of boat projects for us to be working on (have I mentioned that Matt is sanding and varnishing the entire interior of Serendipity?), we agreed to this trip because we needed a welcome relief from these projects and it was a chance to visit Roatan without having to take our own boat there. Â The next week was spent planning and provisioning, and even though all five of us had originally intended on going, Luki dropped out just a couple of days before, stating that even a week might be too long to take off from his projects, then leaving behind me, Matt, Ana Bianca, and Luis to make the trip.

Weather in the Gulf of Honduras was checked daily before our departure, and even though a tropical storm, Dorian, was forming in the Eastern Caribbean, things looked great for us to make the 175 miles out from Livingston, at the mouth of the Rio Dulce, to Roatan. Â A bail out plan was put in place in case the storm did end up heading our way, but at the time of departure, Passageweather was showing our crossing to only have 5-10 knots of wind with 1-2 meter seas. Â This was slightly disappoint to me since I had picked our departure date about 4 days earlier, based on glass calm seas and no wind anticipated for that day, perfect conditions for a motorboat. Â I had wanted to re-create our perfect passage up to El Estor, but it turns out, the weather had other plans in mind.

On board with us for our departure was a Belgium family that had stayed in some of the land based accommodations at the marina and now needed a lift to Livingston. Â Always wanting to be one to lend a hand where he can, Luis insisted they come that far with us. After a quick breakfast and a $7,000 fill at the fuel station, we were off. Â The night before, a terrible storm had blown through, causing plenty of debris to wash into the river and us spending the first few miles trying to avoid it. Â Once the river opened up into the golfete we were in the clear and even made a short stop to let our visitors go for a swim. Â On our way once more, the three of us sailors (me, Ana Bianca and Matt) gathered on the top deck of the boat to discuss the week ahead that might be in store for us. Â Matt had already been a little antsy about going, his OCD mind focusing on all the time he was going to miss on Serendipity, checking things off the to-do list before we leave for our backpacking adventure, and Ana Bianca was not quite enthusiastic about heading into the Caribbean Sea with a potential tropical storm heading our way.

I was slightly more indifferent, but all three of us knew that Luis was incredibly excited to be out for an adventure, and wouldn’t come back for a month if he had the option. Â We talked in hushed voices about how we’d all be better off if instead of going to the Bay Islands of Honduras, avert to some islands off Belize and staying for only three to four days, fitting in with Matt’s timeline, and having a much quicker escape back to the Rio Dulce if need be, satisfying Ana Bianca’s unease. Â We agreed that since Ana Bianca was the most knowledgeable about these islands, and the most forward with Luis, we’d let her bring it up to him when we arrived at Livingston. Â But until then, we sat back and enjoyed the views as the golfete narrowed back into a river and the canyons around us grew higher.

There goes Ana Bianca, hogging the spotlight. Â Literally.

I think we’ve just left Guatemala, and entered Jurassic Park.

As soon as the boat was anchored in front of Livingston and we had taken a lancha to shore, wishing the Belgium family well with their travels, the four of us set out to find internet and see what tropical storm Dorian felt like doing in the next few days. Â The previous hour before this, Ana Bianca had been finessing Luis with our new idea, trying to get him to see the benefits of a few days in Belize versus a week in the Bay Islands. Â I, on the other hand, was still torn and thought I’d let the weather do the deciding for me. Â I should have known it was not going to be ideal out there, since even as we came up to Livingston and the bar, whitecaps were visible on the water just outside and the notoriously calm waters in front of Livingston were rocking and rolling as we sat at anchor. Â If it was that bad here, I could only imagine what it would be a few miles out from shore.

Doing the regular checks of Passage Weather and NOAA, we saw that one of the potential paths for Dorian was to come west, over Cuba and further into the Caribbean Sea. Â It confirmed Ana Bianca’s worries that 175 miles from safety might be just a little too far to toy with, and we’d be much better off in the islands off Belize. Â We could tell Luis was disappointed, I’m sure he had a his heart set on making it to Roatan and Utila, and even more so, showing us all a good time while we were there. Â I think he felt that switching to Belize was giving up. Â Now that we had all decided on where to go though, the next step was to visit the customs and immigration agent, Raul, for our zarpe and to get stamped out of the country. Â The entire conversation with Raul commenced in Spanish, with Luis and Ana Bianca talking to him, and me picking up on every 10th word. Â I could tell the topic was switching to weather and it wasn’t long before Ana Bianca was standing behind Raul’s computer looking up buoy conditions stationed out in the Caribbean Sea.

It took another ten minutes of Spanish being fired back and forth before I was fully let in on what had transpired since we stepped into the office. Â Apparently there was a captain of a fishing vessel that had been on his way out of the office, having just checked back in to Guatemala, as we were on our way in. Â According to this man, he had just arrived that morning from the Bay Islands, and conditions out there were not good. Â Away from shore, he was stating that the seas were hitting 10 meters. Â 10 METERS!! Â For my non metric friends, that’s approximately 32 FEET! Â And we were about to head out into it! Â No wonder Ana Bianca was quick to get a little more weather info before we walked out of that office and back on to the boat. Â Strange thing is, every site we checked showed just about the same thing we’d read before. Â Winds at 10-15 knots and waves at 1-2 meters.

A quick group huddle came after this information was translated to everyone. Â The chance of there actually being 10 meter waves out there when all our other information was stating otherwise was slim, but as Ana Bianca put it, even if they were half of that, it would still be a rougher ride than any of us would want to go out in. Â Departure today was not going to happen. Â The consensus was that we’d stay put in Guatemala that night and check again the next day. Â As Matt and I already knew though, seas don’t calm down from that stature in one day. Â If there was any truth to that fisherman’s statement (or even half of what he stated), we would be waiting at least three days for favorable sea conditions.

A now very discontented Luis led us all back to Hydromax where we made plans of what to do for the evening. Â Livingston is not a good place for one to leave their boat overnight, with pretty good chances of theft, and the next safest option was about 8 miles up the river. Â Weighing anchor we headed west into the sun and back into the jungle. Â I’d be lying if I said that Matt and I weren’t slightly relieved at this weather predicament. Â It meant that the whole trip may be put off. Â Not that we hadn’t been entirely excited about the idea initially, but the timing just seemed off. Â Not only was everyone (except Luis) in a hurry to get back to their boat to complete projects, ensuring that this vacation would not be as relaxing as if there was nothing but time on your hands, but the constant change in plans was making tensions run high aboard, and it almost felt as if continuing on would create a feeling of animosity between our group. Â Maybe it was better to call the whole thing off and say, ‘At least we tried, maybe another time’.

The three of us who weren’t as upset about the non-departure that day left Luis with a little time on his own to sort his feelings. Â I think after having been at the marina in Guatemala for the past two years and listening to conversations at dinner each night of all of his new friends recent adventures, he was ready to go have his own. Â 15 ft waves or less, he was willing to go, sacrificing 24 hours of comfort and strapping himself to the wheel if need be, so the next time we gathered at the ranchito he could join in our passage conversations with ‘Hey guys, remember those crazy seas on our trip to Honduras?’, and catalog it with the rest of his The Most Interesting Man in the World stories. Â It is just speculation of course on why he wanted to get out there so badly, but the desire was definitely there. Â We all kind of wished Luki was on board, a human sedative that relaxed and calmed, and put everything into perspective. Â But since it was only us, we decided that time and space were the best current medicine, and we sat up on deck, trying to keep the mood light until our anchorage came into view.

Some kisses will lighten the mood.

Ana Bianca wants kisses too.

We motored into a gorgeous and quiet bay, and after the hook was set, made some coffee while sitting around the open transom to discuss the day and the possibilities for tomorrow. Â There was the option of motoring back down to Livingston, but checking the weather online wouldn’t be enough. Â Had we gone soley on weather reports from that, we still would have left today. Â We needed real time updates from someone out on the water. Â Which meant trying to hail down a ship on VHF and having them relay the current conditions to us. Â But…what would it take for all of us to agree that conditions were good enough to go? Â I think the three of us knew it as soon as we walked out of Raul’s office that afternoon. Â This trip, was off. Â Luckily, Ana Bianca and I had something up our sleeves. Â Instead letting weather dictate our travels, why not do some land based traveling instead? Â All of us had been wanting to get out to Antigua, why not try for that? Â We’d go back to the marina the next morning, continue on projects throughout the next week, and leave in one week by bus to central Guatemala.

Matt was quick to agree, just happy not to have to face the prospect of rough seas, and once Luis realized it was that or nothing, he agreed as well. Â Stating that Antigua didn’t hold much interest for him, but maybe he’d spend the weekend at Lake Atitlan. Â With the knowledge that we wouldn’t have to brave any rough weather out on the water, I let out a huge sigh of relief. Â That same uneasy feeling I had in my stomach just before we crashed in St. Augustine had been forming, and I was glad to avert a potential crisis before it happened. Â Since we were all decided on the plan now, the only thing left to do was enjoy the rest of the evening and the beautiful sunset in front of us. Â It may not have been where we’d envisioned ourselves to be that night, sitting at anchor instead of preparing to begin our sleep shifts, but to me it felt like exactly where we needed to be.

Goodnight everyone!

A Saturday afternoon Sail

Saturday July 20, 2013

As much as I hate to admit it, I am forever tied to the water. Â Blame my parents for raising me in such close proximity to the wonderful shores of Lake Michigan, but I’ll never be able to escape my need to get back to the water, time and time again. Â Sloshy and uncomfortable passages may not be my highlight, and might also produce nothing but complaints from me, but I could never leave the water for good. Â We’re meant to be together. Â Which is why I was so excited when Ana Bianca invited us out for a day sail on Lake Isabelle on her Beneteau this weekend. Â After just arriving in Guatemala herself a few weeks ago, she made friends with a family that hails from Guatemala City but also has a weekend home on the river. Â Fast friendships can translate from cruisers to landlubbers as well, so when the man, Ignacio, had a birthday coming up, his big wish was a sail out on the water in Ana Bianca’s boat. Â She readily agreed, and even invited the rest of the dinner club along for the adventure as well. Â It wasn’t to be anything too fancy, just a few hours enjoying the lake along with a couple of drinks and snacks. Â I was assigned guacamole and chips and eagerly showed up with them in hand on Hydromax, our meeting point, before we were to shove off.

Dark clouds threatened in the distance, but we paid them no mind as we dinghied out to s/v Kajaya who was now sitting at anchor in our little bay. Â Shortly after we arrived and stocked our goodies into the fridge, Ignacio appeared with his family, wife Annica and daughter Camilla, in their personal lancha and stepped aboard with their own cooler full of goodies. Â If the rain held off it, looked like it was going to be a wonderful day, but again, one should never speak too soon. Â Those dark rain clouds opened up on us just as we were weighing anchor, but as storms tend to do in this area, it was over almost as quickly as it began.

Â We weren’t even the one mile it takes to round the corner where the Castillo de San Felipe sits before the sun was out and shinning again. Â As soon as we hit the entrance to the lake, we gauged the wind and opened the sails. Â Our sail started us out on a nice downwind run and I was able to grab the wheel for a little while when everyone else scattered about. Â Matt was in a very in depth conversation with Ignacio (or Nacho as he told us to call him) about everything sailing, including how the sails worked at different points into the wind to push us along. Â Ana Bianca and Luis were down below so they could whip up a few of Luis’ famous margaritas, and while I was at the helm, Annica and Camilla would try to hand feed me chips and guacamole since I had surprisingly not eaten anything yet. Â Once I had gotten some chips and guac down, I was able to enjoy the helm at my hands, the wind at my back, and the feeling of a weekend pleasure cruise. Â It’s been so long since we’d been out on the water just because we felt like it, and it brought me right back to our weekends on Lake Michigan where there was no time frame, no destination, and the only concern was which point of sail felt best and if there was something cold to drink in the fridge.

Â (photo courtesy of Annica)

Â Even though I had been happy to take over the helm and show off my amazing skills of how to stay on course (without autopilot!), there were others that wanted a shot as well and soon I was handing off my position to Ana Bianca who in turn showed Camilla how to steer the boat and keep a course. Â This left me with nothing to occupy my time except stuffing my face, which I was happy to do. Â Nacho had prepared some croquettes that were incredibly delicious, and with a topped off margarita in my other hand, it was really turning into a perfect Saturday afternoon. Â We shared with Nacho and Annica our previous sailing adventures and our current plans to hopefully cross the Atlantic to the Mediterranean the following summer. Â Nacho, ever the adventurist, jumped at the chance to be our third crew member for the crossing, stating that he’d always wanted to sail across an ocean. Â The offer even came with the promise of him being our personal chef and bartender the whole journey. Â While it was VERY tempting to agree to this, we told him that he’d probably want to go on a much bigger boat than ours, and that 34 feet could get very cramped after three weeks. Â Which is probably why we won’t bring anyone with us on the crossing. Â Having 7 people out for a pleasure cruise though? Â Totally do-able.

Â (Photo courtesy of Annica)

We had our nice relaxing time going down one side of the lake, but when it was time to turn around our new intended course right into the wind, which meant a lot more tacking. Â Ana Bianca had the wheel under control, and Matt was in his element, adjusting sails each time we went back and forth. Â At the beginning the tacks were few and far between, so the other five of us sat around without purpose except to keep enjoying ourselves. Â Nacho broke out a tub of chilled wine him and Annica had brought, so I sat with a pinot grigio in one hand as I continued to talk sailing with them and watched the sun get lower in the sky. Â It was also a little amusing knowing which way the boat would heel each time we tacked, and trying to explain to Nacho which way the tub of wine was going to slide right before it did.

The closer we got to the entrance of the river though, the more tacks we needed to make. Â This meant that I was brought out of my seat while Matt and I worked together to trim the sails. Â The sailors in the group wanted to make it as far as possible without turning the engine on, and as the lake narrowed this meant having to cut back and forth every few minutes. Â Ana Bianca was still stationed behind the wheel and just as we’d start cutting through the wind she would shout out “Now”, and I’d unwind the line from the previous leeward side as Matt would begin winching it in on the new low side. Â Then we’d switch spots and do it all over again. Â Just as we were entering the river again we cut it so close that it deserved a congratulatory round of high fives among us that we didn’t end up beached. Â It felt great being back on the water once again, and appreciating sailing for what it was once more.

(Photo courtesy of Annica)

As if a great day out on the water wasn’t enough, we were invited to Nacho and Annica’s weekend home on the Rio Dulce for a nice home cooked meal later in the evening. Â They own a gorgeous open air home, set high up on a hill overlooking the river. Â Even though it was too dark by this time to see much outside, we settled comfortably into the relaxed and welcoming ambiance the interior had to offer. Â Our dinner for the evening was a to die for Argentinian steak paired Â with an equally intoxicating red wine, and as I sat there reflecting back on the day and how we’ve been instantly welcomed into all of our new friends’s lives, Â I couldn’t help but appreciate how incredibly fortunate we are, not just to lead the life we do, but to keep meeting the welcoming and generous people we do. Â I don’t know what we did to become this lucky.

Morales,Morales,Morales!

Tuesday July 16, 2013

It’s kind of funny how once you know you’re going to be in a place for awhile, it’s easy to fall into a rut. With 4-5 months here in Guatemala, there’s certain things we want to do and see, but they keep getting put on the back burner.

â€œWe should go visit the ancient ruins at Tikal.â€

â€œYeah, but we have plenty of time for that. We’ll get to it later.â€

â€œCopan is also relatively close you know.â€

â€œWe have all summer.â€

Even our neighboring town of Morales, something that’s a 20 minute drive away, a larger town that carries much more than Fronteras, was put on the back burner. â€œThere’s nothing we really need there, if we’re just going to check it out, we can do it later.â€ Three weeks we’ve been here, and in three weeks the only sights we have seen outside of our normal trek to town for necessities was our first weekend in Guatemala where we were swept away to El Estor. Every day after that has been focusing on boat work and nothing much else. Even though while we’re actively cruising we usually sweep through a country or destination in a week, we can’t seem to be bothered to take a hop to the next town over right now. So the other morning while I was having coffee at the ranchito and Matt was sleeping in (our sleep schedules seem to differ a little bit these days) and Luis came by to ask if the two of us would like to go into Morales the next day with him, Ana Bianca, and Luki, I agreed on behalf of myself and Matt.

This morning as I got myself ready for ‘the big city’, I finally got myself out of my athletic gear that’s become my new uniform for our days at the marina here, and into something more presentable. The five of us shuttled over to town in Luis’ lancha and made our way up to the main road, where I was told we’d be taking a collectivo into Morales. The only thing I knew about these is they were the cheap, local transportation. Thinking in my mind that it would be a bus, I almost walked right past the mini-van looking vehicle that Luis had stopped at. Ohhh, so that’s a collectivo! And the gibberish I’d heard them yelling out every time we walked by was â€œMoralesâ€. Or as it sounded to me â€œMoralesMoralesMoralesMoralesâ€.

This collectivo was a twelve seater van that had three rows of seating holding three people each running through the back, and then three seats up front for the driver and two passengers. Being the first people to get in, Matt and I slid into the first row of seats, with our other three friends taking the row behind us. Silly me, I thought we’d wait until we had eleven passengers and leave, but even before taking off we had about fourteen people squeezed into that tiny van. Even sillier me, I thought it would stay that way. All along the way to Morales we’d make a stop for anyone that was on the side of the road and waved their arms to flag us down. As each person joined, we squeezed in tighter with me eventually sitting on Matt’s lap as we fit five people into our row alone. By the time we made it into Morales, I kid you not, we had 28 people in that van. Four were small children, but that still meant we were double capacity for adults. I’m surprised that no one was hanging off the racks on the roof. One saving grace about Guatemalans though is they hold personal hygiene very highly and probably smelled even better than we did, which was a big bonus for us as we sat in such a cramped enclosure.

As we pulled to a stop in town and the door slid open, we all spilled out as if the closed door was the only thing keeping everyone in place. Â I don’t know exactly what I was expecting form the ‘big city’ of Morales, but I don’t think it quite delivered to my expectations, not right away at least. Â It could have been my recent researches of Guatemala City, or the repetition of hearing “Morales will have everything you need!”, but I was dropped on to a dusty road that looked like it had very few shops. Â Fret not, it turns we weren’t quite in town yet. Â We had chosen to get out early to check out a hardware and lumber store just on the outskirts. Â I have to say, it’s a bit better than what we’ve been finding at the concrete mall, and may even give the hardware store in Grand Cayman a run for it’s money.

I can see why they have an ATM at the front of their shop.

Matt and I didn’t make any purchases here, just wandered around converting prices from Quetzals to USD. Â “Oh look, this hammer is only $6.50. Â Look! Â Drill bits for under $10!”. Â We all came out of the store empty handed, but it was good to know the kind of selection offered just a 20 minute, 28 person van ride away. Â That was really the end of our necessity to visit town, the rest of our time could be spent wandering around for fun. Â I did pop in and out of a few pharmacies to see if they carried a prescription we were running out of, and although they did have what we were looking for, no one carried a generic and wanted $90 US a month for it. Â Are you effing kidding me? Â No thanks, I think I’ll wait until we’re back in Michigan and take advantage of Walmart’s generics for $10/month.

After doing a little more walking through the desertÂ Central American sun, my shirt was soaked and I needed a little shade. Â We found some at a fruit stand that was sitting on the side of the street, and even talked the woman running the stand to hack open a fruit that we were clueless on so we could all take a sample of it.

Still couldn’t tell you what this was if my life depended on it.

The closer we got to the center of town, the more stores and shops we came upon. Â Again, in my head we were going to a mini Guatemala City and I foolishly thought there’d be many more Americanized stores instead of the concrete cubes that house stores like back in Fronteras. Â Nope, they were the same. Â Just many many more of them. Â Not that this is a terrible thing, and we browsed the stores and talked about how we really need to get Matt a set of cowboy boots and a cowboy hat to help him really fit in here.

In the end we just did a big loop of the town before ending on the main road that would take us back to where we had originally been dropped off. Â We stopped for lunch in a little cafe, and although it took all my strength not to order a cold beer or a tasty margarita, I instead opted for the free natural juice that came with the meal. Â I have to remember that every dollar counts now for our South American trip. Â Paying the bill at the end of our meal we were given Halls cough drops as mints. Â Because, well, why wouldn’t you get those. Â As our visit neared an end, the only thing for us left to do was step outside and hail down any vehicle yelling “RioDulceRioDulceRioDulce!”

A Tour of Tortugal

Monday July 15, 2013

It’s occurred to me that we’ve been at the marina here in the Rio Dulce for a few weeks now, and I haven’t really shown any photos of what our new happy home looks like.

First, let me start off by saying that all marinas are not created equal. Â Even though we had done no research before we came here and simply picked the place because our friends on Skebenga would be here as well (that,and we heard they just had a new wifi system installed), we lucked out with what I think is the best marina on the Rio Dulce. Â It’s light, it’s airy, it’s even eco-friendly, set right in the middle of a nature reserve. Â Even though there’s rarely anyone here, the complex is spread out which gives a feeling of privacy. Â We’re tucked into a little cove away from town which affords great views of serene palm trees and mountains, and to top it off, we’re one of the few places on the river that enjoys a gentle afternoon breeze, something that is very needed in these hot and muggy conditions. Â Here I introduce to you, our sweet little home for the summer.

The restaurant and bar area, which doubles as a movie theater under the stars every Friday night.

Couch and TV in the common area. Â Perfect for catching up on my telenovelas.

Billiards table in the common area. Â We’ve played, hmmm,…once.

View out to the swimming platform. Â They recommend you don’t jump from here.

Bungalow’s available for land travelers. Â They see our boats and are probably jealous of us, but really, we’re jealous of them.

The saloon doors to the men’s restroom. Â I love the photos.

Seriously can’t get enough of them.

Kayaks available for tooling around. Â Or in case your dinghy breaks down.

Cute little bench along the walkways. I don’t think anyone ever sits there, but it’s still cute nonethenless.

The ranchito right next to our boat. Â My favorite place to hang out.

The 4 person dorm above the ranchito. Â One of Georgie’s favorite places to sneak off to.

There are times I want to pay the $10/night just to be able to hang out up here.

The walkway from the ranchito to the backpackers showers and restrooms (which we tend to use as well).

Showers to the right, and toilets in the back. Â And plenty of mosquitoes after dark.

The backpackers showers. Â They don’t always have hot water, but in the middle of a hot day, they’re a nice place to cool down.

Â View of the boats at dock from the bathrooms. Â We’re the hillbilles with the blue tent covering our boom.

Â The four room hut for rent at the end of the dock. Sometimes occupied by families, but usually drunk college kids.

Â A lounge area looking onto the bay and river. Â A perfect place to get eaten alive.

The Breakfast Club

Sunday July 14, 2013

During our few weeks here in the Rio Dulce, we’ve developed a bit of a breakfast club. Â But to tell you how that came about, I’d have to back-up a little bit, and tell you about our dinner club. Â Ever since the crews of Serendipity and Skebenga threw a dinner party for Luis at the ranchito last week, Matt and I have not had a chance to prepare a dinner on our own. Â First it was ordering a pizza at the marina with Luis, where he told us more about his restaurants and all the special dishes he used to cook. Â Then it turned into Luis wanting to fix us one of those dishes the next night. Â While raving to him about his cooking skills, he’d tell us about the his next favorite dish he wanted to prepare for us the next night. Â Throw that in with the weekly Friday pizza and movie special here at the marina, and we haven’t done more in our galley than heat up some top Ramen for lunch every day.

Through the dinners on Hydromax, we’d try to offer bringing sides or even money to cover at least our portion of the groceries. Â Each time we were turned down for those but did turn into the official dishwashers afterward. Â Our dinners saw us through the departure of Elmari as she left to spend the summer with family in South Africa, and the addition of a new friend at the marina, Ana Bianca. Â It seems like everyone in our group, Luis, Luki, and even Ana Bianca have a special dish they like to prepare, and Matt and I have been basking in the fruits of their labor. Â Work on the boat during the day, gather for dinner and drinks in the evening. Â It’s been absolutely perfect.

After only a few nights of this dinner routine though, we realized there was a problem. Â Between the five of us eating, there’d always be just enough food leftover to have no reason to throw it away, but no way to incorporate it into the next night’s meal. Â This is how the breakfast club came about. Â After one night of dinner, Luis started talking about how he could turn some of our leftover dinner into a delicious breakfast the next day and invited us to come over the next morning to enjoy it with some fresh Cuban coffee. Â We thought it was a one time deal, Matt even dragged himself out of bed by 8 am for it, but that same night over dinner Luis began talking about what would be for breakfast the next day. Â The tradition has been continuing and now we’ve all been meeting twice a day for good food and company. Â Matt and I have finally been able to contribute something by brewing our Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee inside our Thermos brand French Press and bringing it over to Hydromax every morning.

Â While eating one of our meals the other day, Ana Bianca mentioned she had a juicer on board and wanted to break it out sometime. Â After a trip into town and a bag full of fruits and veggies later, we were ready to try it out this morning. Â We made two different juices. Â The first one was simple, but really tasty. Â We cut up a pineapple and added some mint leaves. Â It sounds like an odd combination, but it worked out great. Â The end product was frothy and sweet, with just a little kick from the mint.

Our next glass was a combination of everything else we bought. Â You name it. Â Carrots, oranges, beets, apples, they all went in. Â To me it didn’t seem like these should mix in any kind of way, but Ana Bianca promised that it would come out very sweet tasting and all the flavors would blend together. Â We watched the liquid turn a bright red when the beets were added and after all the ingredients went in, filled four glassed and topped them off with ice. Â Our apple, orange, carrot, beet juice was…not quite as sweet as I thought, but not too bad either. Â I can see why people do this for it’s health value, but it still seems like a lot of work to me unless you’re on a real big health kick or trying to lose weight fast. Â Just give me my morning coffee and omelette. Â Or a pineapple mint juice. Â I’ll still take that one.

In Stitches

Wednesday July 10, 2013

I can’t believe I was actually worried that we’d get here to the Rio Dulce to spend four months with the boat, and that I’d be bored out of my mind. Â That there would be nothing to do everyday, and I’d be sitting there, twiddling my thumbs, watching the seconds on the clock tick by. Â But if there has been one thing to describe our time here now, it is busy. Â My whole day is spend in front of the computer, trying to catch up on my two months of backlogged posts, planning our upcoming backpacking trip to South America, and on top of that, learning Spanish so I can actually get us around. Â Matt keeps his days busy as well, but all of his attention is focused on the boat. Â We had a list of things we wanted to tackle once we got to a spot that we’d be sitting at for awhile, and what better place then when you’re at a marina. Â There’s no tipping back and forth while you’re trying to concentrate, although that hardly ever bothers Matt, extra electricity is just a few short feet away, and a decent sized town with a lot of the supplies you could need is only a five minute lancha ride away.

So this day had been passing pretty regularly. Â I’d gotten up about two hours before Matt to begin my day on my laptop, sitting squished up in the v-berth with my fan pointed directly at me. Â When he finally got up we did our routine of breakfast before he started disassembling the salon and moving all parts and cushions up to the v-berth, which forced me on to one of the picnic tables at the ranchito next to us. Â Doing our separate work for a few hours, we took a break to make our way into town when our friend Luis offered us a ride since he was going in anyway. Â About 7 liters of Pepsi were stocked up along with a couple bags of nacho queso chips, one trip to the concrete mall for hardware supplies, and we were on our way back to the marina. Â As usual, Luis asked if we’d need the lancha any more that day, and after not being able to think of any other reasons we would need to go into town again, we told him to secure it for the night. Â Rain was threatening, so I moved the tower of cushions around in the v-berth to make a spot for me to sit once more. Â Matt, waiting for his latest coat of varnish on the starboard side salon to dry, took to his other project of making a sliding board to fit over our stove and give us more counter space.

Concentrating as best I could, I tried to drown out the banging and clanking and drilling sounds that were coming from the aft cabin. Â Then I heard a big clatter, followed by a painful groan and then “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit”. Â Craning my neck back, I could see him holding his hand up in the air, and it didn’t even take me two seconds to grab the medical bag that had been conveniently replaced right next to me for the day, and throw it on the settee while unzipping it. Â Taking a look at Matt’s hand, I found out that while holding down a stainless steel tube that he had been drilling, the bit broke and the end still attached to the drill went right into his index finger. Â It wasn’t gushing blood at the moment, which was nice, but I still had no idea what to do. Â I grabbed him a paper towel to keep pressure on the wound, and then raced to the head where I sent bottles from our medicine cabinet flying, trying to search for the hydrogen peroxide. Â When I finally got to a bottle, I splashed a healthy amount on the wound as he winced in pain. Â Ok, so we have it disinfected. Â Now what? Â Is it going to need stitches? Â Will a butterfly bandage be enough to make it heal? Â The cut looked fairly deep, and living and working in the environment we do, infection was my number one concern. Â There just looked to be too much of an open area for things to make their way in if we only tried to remedy it with a bandage. Â Time for the skin stapler maybe? Â Matt had always been looking for an excuse to break it out.

The other good thing about being in a marina at the moment as opposed to out at anchor, is there were other people close by to consult on the matter. Â Jumping off the boat and on to the dock, I ran in search of any sign of Luki or Luis to give a second opinion. Â Coming up on Skebenga, I didn’t see anyone aboard, and then turning around I saw Luis making his way onto the dock at the same time Matt was. Â He took one look at Matt’s finger and said, “It’s fine, just put a bandage on it for a few days”. Â Ummm, I’m not sure that a simple Bandaid is going to cure that flap of skin that’s hanging off his finger. Â I really wished Luki was around, him and his wife Elmari seem to have a good knowledge about medical training, but since they weren’t, I wanted a trip to the clinica in town. Â Matt looked to be on the same page as me, and as Luis went about untying the lancha and getting it ready to go, I flew down the steps of the companionway to grab both our shoes, cash, and the ATM card. Â Before I knew it, we were headed towards Fronteras, and all in less than five minutes after Matt had drilled into his finger.

It was another lucky thing that we had Luis with us, since not only did we have no clue where the clinica was, but there probably wouldn’t have been enough Spanish between the two of us to find it, explain what we needed (although I’m sure just pointing to his finger would have done the trick), or most importantly, understood what they were telling us in return. Â I guess we were kind of over dramatizing the situation back at the marina, we must have given Luis the impression that there were no extra seconds to spare, and as soon as we stepped foot onto the main road he hailed a tuk tuk to drive us the half mile up to the clinica. Â As he paid the $2 fare, Â we walked inside, or through the open garage style door I should say, to find a nurse/assistant standing behind the pharmacy counter. Â Luis explained the situation, and she took down very basic information such as Matt’s name, age, and nationality on a blank sheet of paper. Â Very official. Â She said it would be 200Q ($25) just to see the doctor, and then whatever the extra cost would be for what else needed to be done. Â We agreed, and were then told to wait until the doctor could see us.

The only place to sit was a bench outside, but assuming the doctor would be right out, we began flipping through the local newspaper sitting on the counter. Â Which, on the first few pages at least, were filled with images of bodies covered in white sheets due to murders, auto accidents, or whatever else might leave a dead body behind. Â I’m pretty sure images like these would not fly back in the States. Â It took about 30 minutes, but we were finally led into the doctor’s office with Luis in tow to translate. Â After giving a two second look at Matt’s hand, the doctor explained that he could give him a shot of novocaine and fix him up with a few stitches. Â We agreed once more, and just as I was pulling out my camera to get a front row seat to the show, both Luis and I were ushered out to the ‘waiting room’ (i.e. the bench sitting outside in the gravel lot) while they went to work on Matt. Â I think the doctor spoke just a little bit of English, which made me feel a lot better about leaving him alone in there, because both of us have found that when someone begins asking us something, even if we have no clue what they’re talking about, we just bob our heads up and down and respond “Si, Si”.

“I don’t like the way this finger is looking, I’m going to have to take it off”.

“Si.”

“As long as we’re hacking you open, I’ve always wanted to try and put a goat heart in human. Would you be willing to try this?”

“Si.”

“I’m just going to need you to sign this legal document saying I am not at all liable for anything I do to you.”

“Si, Si.”

But 20 minutes later, after Luis and I had gone through a few bags of Cheetos and two bags of water (Yes, I said that right. Â The water is drunk out of plastic bags.), Matt was returned to us with four stitches and a nice little bandage taped between his fingers. Â He was given a prescription for antibiotics which he was told to take twice a day for a week, and to pull out the stitches one week later. Â After paying 300 more Q ($39) and being told to come back if the whole area turns yellowish-red, let’s hope not, we were on our way home. Â For having an accident happen in a small town of a third world country where we don’t speak the language, I actually think it went pretty well. Â But just so we don’t have any repeats, I think all drill bits should be kept away from Matt until at least this wound heals.

Â Our ambulance driver.

Getting ready for surgery.

May as well enjoy a bag of water while I wait.

Bucket Laundry & Big Adventures

Monday July 8, 2013

If you’ve been following this blog for awhile, you’ll know that Matt and I are pretty cheap. Â Stingy might even be a good word. Â If we don’t have to spend money on something, or there’s a cheaper way to do it, that’s usually where we’ll turn. Â And with absolutely no incoming flowing in, we need to be that way. Â Whatever we have saved up in the bank account has to last us through the next couple of years, and neither of us is ready to cut this trip short so we can blow our money on extra trips out to restaurants or really happy Happy Hours. Â Sometimes we happen to be ‘those people’ which others look at with disdain and mutter “Why don’t they just spend the extra couple of bucks”. Â Today may have been a case of that while I sat dockside, taking up the art of bucket laundry. Â That’s right. Â No $8 a load, wash, dry, and fold, for this girl. Â I’m doing it by hand. Â ‘Why be that incredibly stingy?’, you may ask? Â I’ll share that with you in just a moment.

First, in case anyone is curious, and since the #1 question (I kid you not) from friends and family before we left was “How are you going to do your laundry?”, I’ll share my method on this. Â Usually, there is a coin-op facility, or in the case of our marina here, a service that will take care of it for you for a fee. Â Or….there’s bucket laundry. Â I hadn’t read up on any tips or tricks on this pocket, I just taught myself to think like a washing machine. Â I divided our clothes up into loads, with each load containing five items. Â Then in our big bucket, I filled it about half way with fresh water from the spicket, and took one article of clothing at a time for an initial rinse. Â I didn’t know if soley dunking it in a few times would do the job, so I sat there with each t-shirt, pair of shorts, or set of pajamas, and plunged every item individually 50 times.

When I was sure the initial grossness was off, I emptied the bucket, rinsed it out, added a little detergent, filled it half way again, and then started the process over again. Â Each item received 50 dunks or swishes just to make sure that the detergent fully seeped in to every thread. Â It has to be close to how a washing machine works, right? Â After the cleansing came one final rinse, again at 50 dunks per item, and then I was satisfied enough that they were clean. Â Up on the clothes line they went, ensuring our hillbilly status here at the marina. Â It was a time consuming process, close to 45 minutes a load, but the extra few dollars every load saves will come in handy.

If you’ve guess the reason as our saving every penny is because of a boat baby on the way, you’d be wrong. Â Sorry, but not this year. Â We’re saving pennies where we can, because, we’re throwing some land travels into our mix! Â Not that the Rio Dluce isn’t a great place to spend your summer. Â The town of Frontera is quaint, there activities going on at a number of marinas every day, and you’re only a bus ride from visiting ancient ruins in Tikal or Copan. Â We just want a little more from the free time we have on our hands while sitting here. Â Talking about the next step, as we spend much of our time doing, we lamented about the fact that we’re so close to South America, and it’s too bad we won’t get the boat there to do a little exploring. Â Then it hit us that we don’t need a boat to explore South America. Â So over the past six weeks or so, we’ve been discussing a visit there while the boat is sitting safely at the marina in Rio Dulce.

Then came the question of how much time we can afford ourselves, what we want to see, and how much land we could cover. Â We knew we wanted Peru on the list, just because of the number of sights to see in that one country: Machu Picchu, The Nazca Lines, Lake Titicaca; as well as it’s diverse terrain. Â After looking at other areas such as Angel Falls in Venezuela and Iguazu Falls in Argentina, we ruled that they would be just too far to travel to from Peru without a plane, and we couldn’t afford the extra tickets. Â So now the new plan is to fly into Lima Peru and then one month later, fly out of Medellin Colombia. Â There should be plenty to keep us busy while in Peru, Ecuador, and Colombia, so we don’t feel like we’re missing out too much, and still hope to hit the eastern side of South America sometime in our travels.

We don’t know exactly what we’ll do or where we’ll go, but the beauty is, we don’t have to. Â As long as we can make it to Colombia for our flight out, we’re good. Â No dependency on wind or weather windows, we’ll be free to travel where we want, when we want. Â There is also one more surprise in this trip that is making us super excited! Â Since we’re using Spirit Airlines because it’s the cheapest we could find (see, I told you), and Spirit is forcing us to Ft. Lauderdale before we can take a connecting flight to Lima, we decided that since we’re going to be shuttled into the States, why not go one step further and make a visit home as well? Â Yes! Â We’re now adding a 10 day stop in Michigan to our travels as well! Â Friends, family, fast food. Â It’s more than I could have hoped for for our summer. Â Matt just purchased our tickets for an August 13th departure. Â Five weeks until we get to go home, and the countdown starts now!