Felize Cumpleanos to me! 58 Years and still kickin'

As birthdays go, this has been pretty damned good. I remember my last, in St Marten, which was wonderful and spent with good, new friends.This year's has been spread over several days - with more to come, I think - and each fun in its own way.

Saturday was my birthday and also the cruiser's potluck BBQ here at Fantasy. So, I bought 2 carrot cakes to bring to the pot luck as my contribution. Laying on the beach all afternoon, baking I should add, the manager here, Marianella, came by and told me she was bringing her two girls so spend some of the day here, and would I take them for another dink ride and play with them.

I forgot all about them. After baking on the beach, I walked over to my dock, put a better shirt on, and picked up the 2 cakes, plates, cutting knife, etc. and set off for the 'marina green'. As I passed the pool, to beautiful little Latina faces jumped out at me, from the pool, and I remember my obligation. Dropped off my 2 cakes for the cruisers, and headed back to AF to get the dink and ride over to the beach where my 2 little friends waited with their nanny. I rode them over to the cruiser's BBQ for a picture - proof that I was with 2 beautiful Latin ladies, but alas, very young. They enjoy the ride in the dink, but even more, they like to play a game with my hand pump. They fill it with sea water, I say it is broken, putting my finger in the hole, and when I put my face in to see what the problem is, one of them pumps water into my face, 'surprising' me. It gets a laugh every time.

So, although not perfect, my birthday was pretty nice.

Nice dates, huh??

When I was done playing with the girls, I returned to the BBQ to find that most of the food was gone, but Jerry and Annie shared a spare chicken breast with me, I had 2 different pasta salads, a piece of my carrot cake.

When I arrived, friend Joyce made sure that I got a happy birthday sung to me, and she had also bought a delicious rum cake for me as well. My time with the girls had messed up her plan, but she saved me some cake so I had TWO pieces.

Thank you so much, Joyce. (Paul departed for the States that morning for his next spinal surgery, but not before presenting me with a great LED light strip that I hope will work in my galley. Thanks, Paul.)

Sunday morning, Skip returned from Brick Bay, and surprised me with another cake that he asked Morris Johnson to bake for me. He said Morris was happy to be doing for me, and I am sure that I have made another friend here on Roatan.

This one I shared with more of the workers here who have become friends, than I was able to with the others, but there was enough that night to offer some to Skip, Jean-Marie, the guy who is head of security and who's name I cannot remember for the life of me, and Edsel, local guy who is boat sitting 2 boats behind me. Later, taxi driver Edgar showed up - I think he can smell free rum and Cokes - and had the last piece.

Life is good.

Everyday Life.....

Life for me is pretty basic and becoming something of a routine. A good routine, mind you. (Lately, I get up at 8am, make my coffee and drink it with a local sugar biscuit, run my little jog out the beaches, do some needed sit ups and a few push ups, and internet.) The trade winds are back - strong at night, but keep the clouds cleared away and the sun on the beach can bake you, and you dont know it because of the breeze. So a few hours on the beach, reading - I read about 3 books a week lately - or watching the ladies walk by. A few orange juices followed often by a few rum and orange juices, rum and Coke, or beers. Some lunch on the boat, or early dinner sometimes, a nap often fits in late in the day, and after some dinner, return to the bar to see what is about that night.
Occasionally, the routine is broken by some nice folks - sometimes boaters, and other times, guests at the resort. Below is Emilio and his daughter, Paloma. He is a retired Iberia Air pilot, flying for a tiny airline in Guatemala now, and she owns a small restaurant in what they describe as a beautiful village in Southeast Spain. She sent me photos on Facebook, and it is beautful. Also, her mother owns a small hotel in Morocco, and the photos of that are amazing.
This wonderful couple have an amazing friendship and closeness now, and I was glad to invite them for another rum and Coke on AF, along with my buddy, Rene - the Austrian, who bought me a beer in Guatemala one day. His gf, Petra has returned to Vienna, and he is deciding where to leave his boat for the season - return to the Rio Dulce, or leave it on the hard here at the new ship yard.
Anyway, Emilio and Paloma are 2 special people and I am so glad to have met them. You might remember that I feed the Watusas every day. I whistle and they come running. Because I am alone, there are never any pictures of me doing it, but Skip was here one day on his boat, and asked to 'feed my kids."

A funny thing happened the other day. When I whistled and they came running - about 5 of them just now - I noticed a small iguana coming as well. Now he responds and comes running, and has started to take the bread or cookie out of my hand, like the 'rabbits' do, although he whips his tail at them - his defense, even with those mean countenances. I understand that a large one can leave quite a welt on your leg if they whip a man.

So that is a taste of my life lately. Not too special, but - hey, not too shabby, either.

Life is good.

Trip to Brick Bay

A few weeks ago - Well, first I should apologize for not having posted anything here for so long. Have been busy, ill, busy again, and then my birthday came along. So, for those who check regularly for anything new, I am sorry.
A few weeks ago, I went down to my friend, Skip's, house in Brick Bay. Well, it is not his house, but he is the permanent house sitter. It was one of those things that come along once in a while that turn out to be good luck. (A couple here vacationing at the resort brought up the subject that her mother and dad had built a 4 unit apartment here, but no one in the family was using it regularly, and it had been burglarized several times over the years. So they were looking for a house sitter, and Skip fit the bill. His wife will move here to join him after her US citizenship comes through, and 2 living on his small boat will be a bit crowded. This worked out perfectly.) I had wanted to see the place and so asked if I could come down for a couple nights.
The house is about a half mile from the main road in the center of the island, and there is nothing there to do - no tv, radio, and the neighbors dont speak English. Their dogs are good company for Skip though.

We used Edgar for the taxi ride, stopping at the store for groceries. Then Petrosun for a beer. Then we stopped at a little bar in Los Fuertes that I know, and drank - oh, about 8 or 9 more. Below is the bartender there. We had so much fun - in broad daylight, dancing and acting the fools. This place gives the designation 'dive' a new meaning. Skip poses with this cutie - the bartender and not a 'bar girl' - her husband works at Eldon's, the good grocery store we use all of the time.

Here's a blurry shot - thanks Skip - of her again, and the other one IS a bar girl who came up and put her arm around me with the speed of light.

Notice the lady and her son in the background - they enjoyed watching the Gringos having fun and playing around.

Happily married, she still danced and played as much as the other. A real cutie....

We arrived at the the house in the dark. Skip took forever to find the key, the doorknob, and unlock the door. The whole time, there were at least 3 dogs growling at me in the dark. (Here, at night, away from towns, it get REAL dark.

But the next day, I got to see this place and it was great. Rustic, for sure, but a nice place for a private vacation, as the neighbors work all day.

A small living room and kitchen -

The view out the front windows - well they really aren't windows, but screens with very nice wooden slatted shutters.

A nice balcony on the second floor where the bath and 2 modest bedrooms are -

I should add that when laying in bed, you can see the living room lights, or bedroom lights peeking in from knotholes and nail holes, and the neighbors ARE just inches away. It is not very sophisticated construction.

The front yard -

A short walk to a small sitting deck - you can see one of the growlers from the 1st night, who became instantly friendly in daylight, sprawled on the deck, napping in the shade. Skip keeps a waterbowl filled for them by the front door.

Another of the guys who seem to use his deck as their daytime offices.

As I keep old bread, crackers and cookies for my watusas, Skip buys cheap cookies to feed to his new friend. On the walk to the main road (very treacherous at midnight, I might say) he introduced me to HIS friend, this wonderful old monkey, who lives on a chain, has a little roofed house, and presumably is fed regularly.

They sit on this stone bench like 80 year old lovers, attentive to each other, affectionate, sort of holding hands and thinking of the past.

She really didnt like my intrusion, and started acting a bit queer, so we left. The next time we passed, I stayed on the road, leaving them to their private conversation.

The obligatory chicken and rooster came by for scraps.

The half mile walk to the main road, a left and 200 yards down the road, and you find Morris Johnson's place. Cold, and cheap beer, and home cooked food. He gets up early, and bakes bread, and cinamon rolls. These are 2 of his bartender/daughters I think. There are young people everywhere, and you have to watch where you step, or you might stomp on a kid. It is a nice place, with friendly people and kids everywhere. Morris owns many small houses on the property, so the family and tenants are in and out all day and night.

Morris is an interesting fellow, and welcomed me like a brother. Each time I pass now, I stop in for a cold one.

I cannot remember this kid's name but he was a regular friend who loves to dance to reggae music. (Surprisingly, US country music is very popular here, and he doesnt dance to that.)

I drank too much. Made a drink with ice from fetid water. Became dehydrated. And from one of those things, or a mix of it all, spent a week back on AF feeling bad and low. But the trip was worth it.

Haooy - Sorry - I meant HaPPy Ending

A tiny crisis here has had me and many other cruisers upset, and I can now write that it has reached a very positive conclusion.
When my friend, Jean-Marie, a Belgian who now lives in the Czech Republic, where he owns a lumber company, arrived at Fantasy, every man noticed the beautiful young woman with him. She probably was the most beautiful woman here at the time, and turned many heads as she passed coming up from the beach to the bar in her bikini. Many times, I saw a 2nd man with them at their table. After the 2nd man departed, and later the girl, I became acquainted with him, and asked him about his friends. She was a girlfriend who had lived with him aboard for 7 months, and the other man was a Canadian friend, who had departed for the island of San Adres, off the coast of Nicaragua.
Five days after the Canadian's departured, Jean Marie began to worry. There was no word from his friend. As the days ticked by, more concern for him - he was overdue from what should be about a 4 day sail. No one had heard from him and he had a girlfriend and another lady coming to visit him in San Andres on Valentine's Day, and they had heard nothing.
I asked Jean-Marie why he did not come on the morning cruiser's net here, and put the word out to look out for his friend and his boat, and he replied that he felt his English was not good enough, so I asked him to write down all of the pertinent info for me, and I carried it to Jerry, the dock master here, who gladly put the word out where it spread across an Eastern Caribbean Cruisers' Net run on the SSB radios. As word spread, with no one reporting the boat, and friends becoming more worried, it looked more and more bad for this man. His girlfriend canceled her tickets for her visit. Jean-Marie went to the Port Captain here, where he was stonewalled. But other countries agreed to start a search for the vessel - Nicaragua, Guatemala, Colombia, and finally Canada. With some pressure, even Honduras relented and initiated some search.
Yesterday, the 15th or 16th day since the boat's departure, Nicaragua reported that they had found the man and boat, and towed him to a small bay there. He had suffered a catastrophic electrical failure. The cause was not known yet, but speculation here included a lightening strike - his is a steel boat - which could have ruined all the compasses aboard, making navigation almost impossible.
Anyway, it is a happy ending to what I had assumed was going to be a very bad tale, which possibly would never have an answer. I am glad that I played a tiny role getting the search started. There are so many risks at sea, whether with several folks and more when sailing alone, and in the area he was travelling, there have been numerous pirates reported. It gets worse as the world economy tumbles.

FB Plug for Fantasy Island Marina

Not one to plug things here, but there are some great pictures of stuff that happens around here at the marina, as well as what the place looks like, daily life, and special events (45 cruises at the Super Bowl party) and yes, once in a while I turn up in some of the pictures. Jerry, the dock master here, does a great job and has taken good care of me, from the day I arrived and he towed me in, to the present.


http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Fantasy-Island-Marina-Roatan-Honduras/119496711394163

Finally, I made it to the Rio Dulce - 2 years late.

I have really really dragged my feet about getting this post done. I did the pictures a week ago, but only now - on the 8th - finally take the time to sit down and write. (I have been back, I think, for 2 weeks.)
There have been a lot of things happening here since, and most prominent then was that as I departed AF, they were tearing up the dock where I am, to rebuild it, and I was really worried about the treatment of AF while away. It seemed that no one in management was really over-seeing the work. I puzzle at why I was slow to write this and the only explanation is that I didn't have a good time at the beginning of this trip, and don't like to be negative here. If I sound like I am whining, then, perhaps I am, but I was afraid to set off on this trip, alone, and with no Spanish. I just couldn't get my arms around the "adventure" part of it, as I hoped I would. Some of my imagined nightmares came true, but not in any serious context.
I overslept the day I was to depart, so that meant having to fly to San Pedro Suelo, on the mainland the next day. Had I started the day before, I would have taken the ferry here in Roatan, to La Ceiba, on the mainland coast, and then a taxi to the bus station, and a bus ride to San Pedro. But, instead, I flew directly. It was OK. Days before I had asked several cruisers for recommendation for hotels there, and had several, but friend Paul had emailed me some time before with his recommendation, and I wished I had paid better attention at the time, to it.
I took a taxi from the airport in San Pedro, with a non-English speaking driver, who had to stop at the first gas station we came to, to buy some gas, and I bought him a 'fresco' and me a beer and some chips. When I arrived at the Mayan something Hotel, no one at the front desk spoke English, but were very friendly. I ate at a cafeteria style restaurant next door for lunch, and again, every one was very friendly. But the taxi drivers lined up on the street in front of the hotel all had eyes like sharks - directed at me. The hotel is actually on more of an alley than street, and I felt scared and vulnerable much of the time. Finally I worked up the courage to take a walk and finally found the Central Square several blocks away, and it was packed with people, and I felt more safe. I would just walk around the blocks, moving further out each time, until I the streets seemed empty, so I would turn around and head back to where I came. Most streets don't have signs, so I had to learn landmarks, like KFC and Burger King, the appliance store or the ice cream store. My friend Patty had posted a picture on Facebook taken from her hotel room when she was there, and I recognized the church, and the McDonald's sign when I saw them. Several things struck me: One, there were no bars, nor signs advertising frio cervacas - cold beer. Two, the bulk of the stores were electronic or baby clothes and toys, with a smattering of 'prom dress' stores thrown in. That was unusual. The women did NOT give me a second look. And the men often stared hard at me. There are no pictures taken of the area because I didn't want to show a camera or look even MORE like a tourista. It was a LOT different from Roatan.
Not having Spanish proved to be a bigger trouble than I imagined. That night, no one at the desk could understand me when I asked for a wake up call - to be awake in time to be at the bus station by 530. I woke about every hour and half all night long, until the final period, and then, awoke AT 530.
I emailed Paul and Joyce the news that I had missed my bus (AND it turns out, I would have ended up in Guatemala City if I had taken it - it's so much fun not speaking the language!), who gave me the address and name of the hostel they had recommended, and they emailed the owner,Luis to say I was coming. So about 1100 am on Sunday, I checked out and taxied to Luis's hostel, again in a taxi with a driver who made me believe he knew it, but could not find the correct address. At my suggestion, we stopped a man on the street, who directed us correctly, after going around many blocks, many times. Luis and his wife and children were wonderful to me, and made me a cup of coffee as soon as I arrived, when I asked. Their place is not the Hilton, but is clean, and cool and for $5 more, I could have used the AC if I had chosen. There was little to do, when alone, other than walk to the mall, or lie in bed and watch Spanish language TV, or read. The neighborhood is much safer and walking to the mall was a nice 2 block jaunt, and there I found Gringo heaven for restaurants. I chose instead, to eat at the Baleata Express - a local food - tortilla with beans, cheese, and chicken, egg, or beef, if you choose. I over ordered but enjoyed the food, even if I didnt really mean to order a thick heap of melted butter or margarine on them (Gotta learn the Espanol, huh?). That night, again, I walked and ate at an Applebee's or one of the other Gringo chains - I cannot recall. At 430am, Luis was knocking on my door, and took me to the bus station to find my ride to Guatemala, and the right bus - to the Rio Dulce.
That was a long, crowded trip, with a stop and change to some un-identifed other bus ( I just tried to go with the flow and make the best of it), to the Rio Dulce, which all worked out just fine. I made it through Guatemala customs only because the man spoke a bit of English. When I arrived in the Rio, I was not on the ground 3 minutes and Joyce was walking up to me. After over 2 years, it was great to see them again.
Below isLuis' son playing in the front courtyard, where I spent more than a few hours sipping a beer or smoking. Below that is Pepe, Luis' dog - a Rottweiler mutt - scary to look at but fun to play with, and he was my company when I was sittin out on the terrace smoking.
All the dogs here have terrible breath and after licking me, I smell their stink for hours. Ain't life great!
Joyce led me directly to Paul and we headed first to a restaurant for a meal and couple beers. Joyce wanted to leave us alone to 'bond' a bit so took the Mario's water taxi back to Lady H. Paul and I had a couple, and then we shopped the street markets for bread, fresh veggies, some great shrimp, and beer. Paul's ability to move has deteriorated severely since I saw them last - of course I haven't changed a bit - and he is recovering from spinal surgery now which is why I was there in the first place - in case something went wrong, Paul's ability to cope is diminished. In fact, he falls over, even with his cane, a lot and has the bruises and contusions to prove it.
After we shopped, we took their dink to Mario's - FINALLY - I have seen it. ( It was my destination 2 winters ago when I departed Norfolk, and again, this past summer, when I departed St Marten.) Lady H looks great with some nice improvements, and we had some good food and drink, and it was like old times for me. Paul is still a great cook, and Joyce is so good to me - preparing coffee and breakfasts and lunches.

My buddy Bart, back in the States, has always been a bit enamored with the idea of my cruising up and down the Rio Dulce, and I finally got to make half the trip. We fueled up one morning, and departed down river- destination Livingston - with an overnight in Texan Bay marina's anchorage. Timing is important because Lady H has a 7 ft draft and must be tipped over by another boat, at high tide, to get over the bar at the mouth where the river dumps into the Caribbean. We had to be in Livingston, and complete with customs by 1pm when we had an appointment to be tipped at high tide - 118pm. It went well.

The trip down river was beautiful - lots of birds and quaint houses and shacks. Below is a man paddling his cuyuca in front of a thatched roof home.

White stone cliffs line the river's edge for much of the way, overgrown with jungle vines and lots of birds. There are not many beach areas, but instead these vertical walls, sometimes white stone, and always full of vines and creepers.

The mountains in the back ground were a bit hard to see for the clouds that afternoon.

After we overnighted in Texan Bay marina's anchorage - a place I could have stayed for a couple of days, and would like to return to - real Gringos who are expats and gone local - some a bit nuts like me, I think. Paul decided to pull anchor to follow another boat down the river to Livingston. The other boat gives some perspective to my pictures. Below, that white dot to Joyces right is the other sailboat.

That's Joyce smiling and Paul ducking the camera, and the other picture of him is not appropriate for this "G" audience cuz a finger is in the way......

There are a couple very sharp turns in the river. And without that other sailboat, you would never realize the height of the cliffs on each side of us.

Here, she is about to disappear around one turn.

And the same boat later in the turn.

When we arrived in Livingston, Paul used his agent to clear immigration and the port captain's, and the couple on this boat bought me a beer, as they also waited for the port captain to arrive. Very nice, and I hope they visit here soon. I owe them a drink.

After clearing out, we were met by this boat pictured below, and Joyce had lines rigged to haul up our mast, and pass over to this boat. We motored until we stuck in the mud and then this guy started pulling on us sideways as Paul put the throttle down, and

we tipped over, lifting the keel out of the mud and we moved forward again.

Joyce snapped this of some old fat guy sitting on the bow watching the spectical.

And she had to take at least one of me while we were motoring here to Roatan, a trip of about 24 hours. We had strong winds on the nose almost the whole trip, but did manage to sail for about 3 hours in the night. And......I got seasick, again, briefly. Great...........

When I crewed with them from Norfolk to St Marten 2 November's ago, I had to find a place where I could smoke, as neither of them do. During the worst of that storm, I straddled the side of the cockpit, but after the weather warmed, or maybe it was after we arrived in St Marten, I designated the stern as my office. It was nice to be back there again.

When we arrived here at Fantasy Island, I told them both that I was unnecessary for the trip (I let them do their thing, their own way, unless asked to help - They have sailed together for thousands of miles now, and don't "need" anyone else, really.) but it was good for me to get away from here for a while, and was so nice to see these two old friends again, after over 2 years.