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.