Seven on the Seas:

Cartagena, Colombia

2008-05-21T21:25:00.013-05:00

Even before we arrived here, we met Colombian tourists in Guatemala and in Panama. After just a few minutes of talking, they wanted to take our pictures and were giving us their addresses and telephone numbers so that we could visit them when we arrived.

Mention Colombia and many people think of drug dealers. Other things that might come to mind are: Shakira, Juan Valdez, and the film Romancing The Stone (actually shot in Mexico). Love in the Time of Cholera was also filmed here, and indeed, Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s books are sold in the grocery stores. Here you can “rent” cell phones on the street for about 15 cents a minute. Guys walk around with thermoses offering shots of dense coffee from tiny Dixie cups. Sometimes it seems like we’re in Spain, other times it feels like Africa.

The Castle San Felipe is the largest of several forts built to protect the city from pirates who sought the gold and jewels heading to Spain. We visited at night and got to tour the underground tunnels that descend below the fort. In the narrow, claustrophobic tunnels there are matacasas or “killing houses” every few feet. These are alcoves in which the Spanish soldiers would hide to await and ambush the enemy.

The construction of the fortress, and of the 11 kilometers of walls surrounding the city, took 208 years to build.

Victoria is a friendly fruit vendor, she dresses-up to attract camera-toting tourists. Cartagena was once a major slave port. Africans worked as cane-cutters and in the construction of the fortresses and walls around the city. Today there are more Afro-Colombians here than in any other part of Colombia.

We loved the sound of these carriages clip-clopping through town. Cartegena de las Indias was founded in 1533 by Spaniard Don Pedro Heredia and named after the port of Cartagena in Spain’s Murcia region. It is Colombia’s fifth largest urban area.

We enjoyed the architecture and colors of the old town.

This clock tower is the official entrance to downtown (the old walled city).

William stands at the entrance to Club de Pesca, one of the marinas.

"Sandia, Papaya, Mango, Mandarina, Aguacate, Pina!" Cry the local street vendors every morning. We appreciated the variety of native fruits.

A three masted schooner in the anchorage next to our marina.

Dancers performing in the street.

There are many bridges, islands, and peninsulas here.

This view of the convent atop the hill is shot from the mercado.

Another colorful building.

To us, the market seemed right out of Calcutta. In this picture it looks tame, but it teems with vendors, flies, dirt, sounds, smells, colors, and, of course, bargains.

This painting hangs in the Museum of Modern Art.

This pelican hangs out in the yacht club.

Drummer boys, getting ready to perform downtown.

The University of Cartagena resides in a 200 year old building. One morning, I had a nice visit with the director of the literature program. In the afternoon, students play hackey sack in the courtyard center.

Every doorway in the old city is a work of art. We could take pictures here for weeks. We priced one of these old doors at an antique furniture store… alas $3,500.

The naval museum was educational and entertaining.

Rooms full of model boats at the naval museum.

Artifacts from the Gold museum included lots of nose rings, earrings, breastplates, and decorative stuff having to do with fertility.

Of the several museums that we visited, the undisputed favorite with the boys, was the museum of the inquisition where basically ancient torturing devises are on display.

This little gem is guaranteed to fix any neck problems instantly.

See what happens when you don't finish your homework on time?

Here, Henry poses in the Plaza de las Carretas.

Henry is now a teenager. In lieu of a cake, he ordered this to help celebrate his 13th birthday.

An evening street scene. The jewelry store next door is called "Romancing the Stone."

One of the neat things about Cartagena is the blend of the modern with the old. While numerous skyscrapers grace the horizon, donkeys still haul bags of cement.

A confession: one of my favorite things about Colombia are the numerous cheap restaurants around. This meal, including soup and drink cost $2.25

Street vendors abound downtown.

We loved this rustic furniture made from wooden beams from old demolished buildings. We toy with the idea of importing it. Wanna place an order?

Of the countries that we've visited we especially like that handicrafts of Colombia.

There is some surprising lovely stuff made from coconuts.

Some of the best emeralds in the world come from the Muzo mine in Colombia.

Can I bring him home? Please?

Kuna Yala

2008-04-29T21:52:00.018-05:00

No, Henry is not thinking of becoming a skin-head, he's just standing next to the ancient Kuna Yala symbol, found on their flags and buildings. In 1925 after the Panamanian police repeatedly and violently tried to suppress their cultural, the Kuna people finally revolted and eventually won their sovereignty. There are approximately 35,000 Kuna people in the San Blas Islands.

Of all the exotic wildlife we have enjoyed seeing, my favorite has been the three-toed tree sloths. They seem so gentle and peaceful, and have such a serene countenance. I wish I could bring one home, but they only eat the leaves of certain rainforest trees.

Boisterous anchored peacefully off of the East Lemmon Cays.

This man could use some new kevlar racing sails.

Lora sports the traditional Kuna fashion, a reverse-applique, painstakingly stitched, mola blouse. Her scarf is also typical in the San Blas islands. She declined the typical gold nose-ring.

We borrowed branch president, Lucio Arocemena's sailing ulu, for a little tippy fun. Steering with an oar is a bit tricky at first, but we stayed dry. Does Lora look worried?

When the line on the reel starts zipping out, sometimes it just means seaweed, this time William (14) caught a nice dog-toothed tuna which we ate with the usual garlic and lime over rice with a few sprinkles of salt and pepper.

Lora and Pauli (8) pose with the Chief Sahila of Ustupu, Octavio de Leon. The Kuna people are the second shortest on the planet after the Pygmies in Africa, but ironically all the boys love basketball (second only to soccer). Each inhabited island is governed by an elected Sahila or leader. There is is primary sahila, and usually two assistants and a secretary. One of the secretary's tasks is to collect money from each visiting yacht, usually $5-10. A few of the islands have LDS sahilas. Most days there is a "congreso" where the people of the island get together with the sahilas to talk about problems, news, developments, etc.
A boat full of boisterous but happy boys.

The larger of these pretty-colored fish sell for about 50 cents.

We've been eating a lot of fruits and vegetables that we have never seen before, much of which we can't pronounce or spell.

Kuna outhouses hang over the water. One man, on a nearby island, was bitten by a Crocodile while minding his latrine business. The croc was later hunted down, killed, and eaten.

Ustupu is the Venice of the San Blas Islands. There is a small maze of canals all around, and dugout ulus everywhere. Though there are hundreds of uninhabited islands, for some reason the Kuna Yala people prefer to crowd together in their huts built of bamboo and palm fronds.

Lora displays our dinner. A few minutes ago, he was scuttling about on the deck.

I was offered this little fellow for $1.50 and was told he would make an excellent stew. "I've already eaten," I said, "but thanks."

The Kuna women supplement their husband's salaries by making molas and foisting them upon cruisers. The Kuna Yala are a matriarchal society. Supposedly the women choose their husbands, and he moves in with her family.

The Kuna are excellent sailors, and I was always fascinated by their little dugouts. Some of them even had jibs. These boys from Playon Chico are, like us, out playing pirate.

These girls on Tikantiki a.k.a. Niadup (Devil island) offered to sell me some chirpy little birds. Alas, I politely declined. The birds were actually biting the girls, thus their expressions.

In virtually all the villages we visited, boys would show off for us by doing hand-stands.

If we let him, Parker (3) would play in the sand and water all day.

"When I grow up, I'll have my own sailing ulu."

We spent a couple of wonderful afternoons on BBQ island, the favorite cruiser hangout.

We actually heard the boys say, "Not lobster again?" This big fellow cost us a whopping $4. In the San Blas islands, we almost got tired of eating lobster and crab.

On BBQ island, cruisers gather for a pot-luck dinner every Monday. When we were there, about 50 sailboats showed up. Since a small well has been dug there, Lora and I did laundry.

This tasty little Crevalle Jack was caught on the island of Salardup.

We met Sister Dorinda Lopez in the traditional dress along with her daughter Patricia Jaen (9) at the LDS branch in Nargana. Since this is a matriarchal society, the women keep their own last name, but the children take the father's surname.

Ludicia Hernandez (12) is a real sweetie. She taught me a few Kuna words. All the school children speak Kuna at home and Spanish at school. She holds up a Kuna language Book of Mormon. Where ever Lora and I went on the islands, we were followed by up to 30 children at a time.

There are LDS branches on five or six islands and on two mainland villages. We visited with church members on four of those islands including Elders Laidlaw and Clark who serve on Playon Chico. They are wearing Mola ties.

It looks like Manuel Lutter got his ulu at a half price sale. He paddled up to our boat one afternoon, and we learned that he is taking the missionary discussions from the Elders. It also turned out that he was one of the students in a maritime (merchant marine) class that we helped teach to around 40 locals.

Sister Ibeth Valdez of Playon Chico, models the typical Kuna fashion.

These students are taking a maritime class in hopes of working for the Panama Canal (one of the few possibilities for a good job for the Kuna people, where schools only go to the 6th grade.) These students had to learn several hundred esoteric nautical terms in English (like schooner, yawl, ketch, bolt-rope, scupper, fairlead, stanchion, hawse-pipe, etc.) so we volunteered to show them the ropes aboard our boat in hopes of adding a little practical training to what had merely been theory for them. Since there were 38 students, we had to have them aboard in two shifts or might have had to add the word "capsize" to their list.

"Lisa" is one of the most famous mola makers, known for fastidiously small stitches and intricate designs. Lora has a hard time choosing one.

Another cool plant suitable for Christmas festivities. Watch out poinsettias.

There are sailing ulus everywhere, and I never tired of taking pictures of them. Boisterous is just visible in the background, anchored off Nargana.

Nothing beats playing on a pristine playa. The Kuna Yala people are scattered among the 365 San Blas islands that strech for about 230 miles. Only about 65 islands are inhabited.

William and Henry are avid anglers, often catching our supper.

While snorkeling around our anchored boat we saw several docile nurse sharks, and though William and Henry, to their delight, managed to hook them several times, to Lora's relief, they were never able to land them.

Here, we are anchored in a place called the "hot tub" where we did some of our best snorkeling.

Parker puts together a learn-how-to-count puzzle.

The dock at Ustupu, Boisterous in the background.

Everyday ulus paddled up to our boat to sell fish, lobster, crab, avocados, coconut, bananas, mangoes, limes, and various other local produce. The Kuna farm on the mainland, but most live on islands.

We made lasting friends among the beautifu people of the San Blas Islands, and though we've only been gone a week, already we long to return.

...next installment, the charming city of Cartagena Colombia.

James Bond

2008-03-24T11:53:00.008-05:00

Ian Fleming penned his first James Bond novel, "Casino Royale," in 1953, but it wasn't until after President Kennedy mentioned that Fleming's "From Russia with Love" was one of his favorite books that a spy-craze was born. The surprising but resounding success of the first Bond film, "Dr. No" in 1962 launched the longest and most successful film franchise in history (at least until the Harry Potter films surpassed Bond in gross revenue). Over the years the 21 007 films have grossed around $11 billion.

For two weeks our boat "Boisterous" was part of an ad-hoc anchorage serving as background for some on-the-water chase scenes during the filming of the 22nd James Bond movie: "Quantum of Solace" due out in November 2008.

Here, Daniel Craig and Olga Kurylenko (former Ukrainian super-model) jet by "Boisterous." Craig is reportedly being paid 15 million pounds for doing three films, and has an option for two additional films.

Bond's boat has "Gardien des Etoiles" written on the side. It's painted to look like an old wooden run-about, but it's actually a 21' aluminum jet boat build by Doug Riddle of Idaho. It sports a Chevy short-block 350.
These bad boys, Harris and Frosty, chase 007 in an 18' Avon rigid inflatable.

Their guns look less menacing sitting on the dock at Shelter Bay Marina.

In the movie these guys are supposed to be Colombian drug dealers.

A view of a couple of military vessels that were used in one scene.

Here 007 is chased by drug lords who are followed by one of the camera boats. Daniel Craig's first Bond film was Casino Royale (2006) which cost around $150 million to make, but grossed almost $600 million.

One of the streets scenes. The seedy city of Colon is supposed to stand-in for Haiti.

The ketch behind the Bond boat is called the "Independence." For scale, the other sailboat to the right is actually 50'.

Another view of the 174' Independenceketch built by Perini Navi in 1998 and hailing from Georgetown Cayman Islands. Someone is standing on the upper deck just forward of the mizzen mast.

The Panama Canal

2008-03-24T10:36:00.009-05:00

Panama City, on the Pacific Ocean side, has about a million inhabitants, yet for the past 7 years it has been listed as on of the top 5 international retirement areas. It was founded in 1519 then sacked by pirate Henry Morgan in 1671 but subsequently rebuilt. For years it has been an international banking center. One day we rented a car and visited Panama City, the Fort Lauderdale of Central America. At a mall, all five boys were able to go rock-climbing on an artificial wall.

This is at Flamenco Marina on an island next to Panama City. The boat next to us is called Utopia and is listed as one of the 100 largest American boats.

Wills and Henry had fun eyeing all the fishing lures at Abernathy's, a Panama City boat store.

Warren turned 10 on March first.

Who are these characters? While in Colon, William and I served as line handlers for a German boat, Otis. Here are Steve, Leo, and owner Andreas.

William actually did most of the steering during our 48 mile canal transit. The French started the construction in the 1880s and by the time it was finished in 1914 around 27,000 workers had died of yellow fever and malaria.

This is a car transport vessel. Only about 40 vessels transit per day, paying an average fee of about $55,000 and it takes around 9 hours. The most expensive transit was a Norwegian cruise ship which paid over $300,000. The least expensive transit fee was 36 cents paid by Richard Halliburton in 1928 when he swam through the canal. The average sailboat pays around $500.

Sailing vessel Jezebel prepares for a canal transit. There are three sets of locks which measure roughly 110' by 1000'. Aside from a lot of digging, the canal was also formed by damming the Chagras river and creating 17 artificial lakes.

A great book on the canal is "The Path Between the Seas" (1977) by David McCullough.

These boats have just locked down about 25 feet. Each time the locks are used for a transit, some 52 million gallons of fresh water are flushed out to sea. In Panama it rains around 9 months of the year. Fortunately, we're here in the dry season.

Warren picks up a hitch-hiker on his scooter.

There are lots of howler monkeys in the forest next to Shelter Bay Marina where we spent a couple of enjoyable weeks during the making of a James Bond film. We also saw many parrots and toucans.

We've seen a lot of mega-yachts coming in and out of Shelter Bay Marina. This one is called Time for Us.

Their dinghy is this 29' run-about.

Their other tender is an airplane.

At Church Easter Sunday in Colon.

Carnival 2008

2008-02-07T16:54:00.001-06:00

By luck we ended up here during Carnival. There were four or five days of concerts, parades, dancing, and general reverie before Lent. Unlike the Mari Gras festivities that we've attended in New Orleans and Galveston, here there were no beads thrown.

Several Queens were crowned.
One aspect of Carnival that we had not experienced before were these devils. Several guys dressed up in a variety of scary costumes. They carried a whip and they chased the children around. Teenagers would run out and taunt the devils, and the devils would whip their ankles and legs. The teenaged boys armed themselves with sticks and pvc pipes to protect themselves, but many of them got some stinging welts!In contrast to some of the pretty dresses, this boy is dressed in colorful rags.

Another Queen.
After heating up, the cool water spray feels great.

These girls are getting ready to dance in one of the many parades.Another parade participant. Yes, these are the little drummer boys. What they lacked in rhythm, they made up with enthusiasm.

The parade will start any minute.

Showtime!
A flying dinghy; where can we get a conversion kit for ours?

William and Henry are now certified open water SCUBA divers. I joined them on their last couple of dives.

Former bike racer, Henry, is now a bicycle vendor working somewhere in the islands of Panama.

Ky, our Australian friend from DaMojo, paddled over one morning with some fresh minnows for Mr. Perkins.

My new office, Bohmfalks, where I go to do e-mail.
We especially like number four: "...for see Indians and monkey."

Tropical Paradise

2008-02-01T16:44:00.000-06:00

For the past two months we've been enjoying the tropical paradise of Panama, a country about the size of South Carolina but with only about 3 million people. The president, Martin Torrijos Espina, has two degrees from Texas A&M University (Economics and Political Science). Here, a full-time live-in maid who does all the cooking and cleaning six days a week, costs only $200 per month. The minimum wage is about $120 per month. Perhaps for that reason, beer is 50 cents a bottle. There is no military in Panama. The Panama canal was completed in 1914. The duty free zone in Colon is the largest in Colon is the second largest in the world after Hong Kong.

Parker asks, “Any sharks out there?”

Warren holds a dead starfish that floated by Boisterous.

Wills hunts for dinner with his speargun.

Sailing back from Almirante one Sunday, we caught a rare closeup of a seagull trolling for crackers.

Lora and Hosanna Sears take a walk near Drago beach.

Lora with boys and friends at Drago beach.

Our big news is our small kitten, an orphan, whom we named Perkins, after our boat motor. Here he is peeking out of the sail cover.

This crab was speared under our boat, and it was yummy. Perkins was also interested, but he didn’t get any.

Roberto usually comes by once a week selling home grown fruit and roots out of his big dugout canoe.
Roberto built his 30’ cayuca in eight days. He speaks flawless English and Spanish.

These waterfront hotels/restaurants represent typical Bocas architecture.

Another example of the local architecture on Bocas del Toro town on the island of Colon.

Lora doing some last minute Christmas shopping. What? You didn’t get the gift?

We sometimes do internet at Bohmfalks, and one afternoon we had some colorful company from Flash, Mr. Pollo, and little Peep.

This flower thrives at Marina Carenero.

The locals arecreative when it comes to traveling on the water. We’ve seen sails made from bed-sheets, tarps, plastic, and old sacks of rice and bean. It beats paddling.

Boisterous is dwarfed by this 134’ ketch which has five spreaders on the main mast.

Sometimes we’re going bananas, and sometimes the bananas are going.

Every once in a while we flag down a passing fruit vendor. This one was filled to the gunnels with green bananos (as they say here).

This stalk has 205 bananas (Henry counted them) and we paid $2.50 for it. No we didn’t negotiate on the price, and no, they didn’t all ripen at once.

At Darklands, Henry holds a walking stick, whose wings were bright red.

Believe it or not, this Black Palm can actually "walk." If the neighbors take too much of its light, this palm will shoot out a root, and then pull itself over.

To our surprise we ran into this sizeable scorpion on one of our hikes, yikes!

The boys have been doing a lot of fishing. Their catch includes some colorful little creatures.

Parker temporarily hosts the Geico gecko.

Parker and Perkins.

Pauli poses with Jasmine, aboard Tracy and Sharon’s ketch, Landfall.

At Starfish Bay, Pauli counts dozens of, you guessed it, starfish.

Six-year-old Australian Dior, from the catamaran DaMojo, joined the other cruising kids for a day of fun on the water.

Here, Henry generates some horsepower on a surfboard.

Wills demonstrates his wakeboarding technique.

One afternoon we got 11 boat-kids together and towed them around the anchorage on water toys. Pauli waits his turn on a boogie board.

Here, Henry holds the needlefish he caught with his cast-net.

Perkins has been feasting on fresh fish almost daily. Here, he fearlessly goes in for the kill.

We love the buttress roots on this tree. We found a bright green with black spots poison dart frog. They say that the poison from one frog can kill 500 people.

This hotel has about a dozen quaint little cabanas built right over the water. It is often featured in travel magazines.

Because of all the moisture orchids abound in the rainforests of Central America.

These Orchids thrive at Marina Carenero.

Another flower at Marina Carenero.

The dock at Green Acres.

One ofour highlights here was visiting Green Acres owned by Dave and Linda Cerutti. They grow and process pure Criollo cacao chocolate. They have been married 50 years. Americans eat around 12 pounds of chocolate per year. Lora eats considerably less.

This is a cacao pod from which chocolate is made. There are 40 big seeds inside.

At Green Acres the 4000 cacao trees are grown in the shade. The Cerutti’s process about 2000 pounds of chocolate a year, and it’s quite a process: The big yellow pods are opened and the seeds inside are allowed to ferment for a few days. The seeds are then dried in the sun, and then roasted in an old butane tank. Finally the cacao beans are ground up and then poured into molds to cool and harden.
We found this colorful fungus on David and Linda Cerutti’s 30 acre rainforest farm.

Louis lives in a bay called Darklands, not far from Bocas. We spent a couple of days exploring the area.

We nicknamed this the devil tree, and it is commonly found in the area.

This is the devil tree’s long-haired cousin.

This little ad hoc hut is near the Marina Carenero

Bocas marina is one of two marinas nearby. Our boat is anchored just out of the picture. We pay $1 for a shower, and we also exchange paperbacks there.

The contrast in water craft: a typical cayuca with Bruadair, a Hans Christian 33 in the background.

Damon and David on the good ship Bruadair, a Hans Christian 33, invited all seven of us over for a delicious fresh fish dinner. David is a gourmet chef!

Merry Christmas

2007-12-22T12:44:00.000-06:00

Greetings from Bocas del Toro, Panama, a tiny town on the island of Colon.
We've been here for three weeks now, after a fabulous 800 mile passage from Isla Mujeres, Mexico--one of our best crossings ever.

It has been raining hard for five straight days! The water is rising, good thing we came by boat.

On Christmas Eve we read the first four chapters of Luke, and perhaps because we are away from family and friends, those verses seemed especially poignant. For me, this time of year is an especially good time to ponder the profound and sometimes ironic teachings of Christ. Things like: Love your enemies...turn the other cheek...go with him twain...let him have your cloak also...love thy neighbor as thyself...blessed are the meek...blessed are they that mourn...blessed are the peacemakers...blessed are the pure in heart...

Also ironically, I'm sitting in a bar with free wireless, the rain is thundering down, but Santa visited our boat by dug-out cayuca last night, and so the boys are busily happy with their new loot. Despite the rain and humidity and dirty laundry, Lora and I feel greatly blessed.

Bocas del Toro, a small water-front village that somehow draws intrepid travellers from mostly Europe--backpackers, surfers, and sailors seem to congregate here.

Edwin and Rogelio, two natives, show off some red tree frogs on, you guessed it, Red Frog Beach. The frogs are actually poisonous.

Lora stylin' on a beautiful Panamanian beach.

A view of our neighbor's boat, Bruadair, and a passing Hobie catamaran.
Damon and David also sailed from Kemah Texas.
This is what's left of a 35" Barracuda that Henry caught. It was yummy.

We sailed in company from Guatemala through Belize to Mexico, with another Texas boat, Cayuse, with a super set of triplets aboard. In Isla Mujeres Hailey& Cameron Haltom, along with Parker and Henry, eye an octopus. Our boys sure enjoyed all the fishing, darts, ping-pong, and Monopoly games.

Hungry? Another view of that octopus.

Lora suited up to do some serious snorkeling (she gets cold easily).
For two weeks we pounded to windward in 20 knots of headwind, enduring some of our worst conditions ever, and all to rendezvous with this man, my nephew, Michael, who poses here with Parker. We had a lovely time with him and his fiancee Christa, and her family the Tooles.

In Belize we ended up spending a few days near Garbut Cay, Belize. While there we met Harrison Garbut, who jokingly introduced himself as the mayor of the uninhabited cay. He showed us the best beach, the best place to fish, and where to find coconuts and conch.

Henry and Cameron paddling to a better fishing spot near Garbut Cay.

A tiny hermit crab can amuse a boy for hours.

Typical pastel get-away in Placencia, Belize.

Our dinner one night on a small Belizean cay.

Parker, Pauli, and Warren with more marine life.

We had some tasty coconuts from this tree in Belize.

Pauli, the mighty conch hunter, catches dinner.

This conch, and several of his relatives, were our dinner one night. Tastes a little bit like clams, and just as chewy.

This is a close up of a conch's innards and eyes. Not very appetizing, is it?

Typical Belize fishing boat, loaded with fish, lobster, conchs, and coconuts.

We loved all the pretty colors in Placencia, houses, flowers, and people--several cultures are well represented here.

A beach scene on an island in Panama.
William wondering how much longer until we get there.

A competitive game of cockpit Monopoly. Can you tell who's winning?

Parker at the bow-pulpit in all his Spiderman-underwear glory.

Pauli posing with a sargent major. The boys are all avid fishermen. This feisty little fish succumbed to some white-bread bait.

Henry displaying the catch of the hour.

Flying fish frequently land on our deck at sea. They have large mouths and huge eyes. They make good bait, and some sailors even eat the things (not us).

As I said, its been raining for five days straight, but we're hoping for a rainbow soon.

Happy Holidays.

On Location in Guatemala

2007-11-06T11:39:00.000-06:00

During the various recent elections here in Guatemala 54 people have been killed. On Sunday 4 November 2007 Alvaro Colom Caballeros was elected president of Guatemala in a run-off election. Colom was the leftist candidate who won under the Unidad Nacional de la Esperanza (UNE) party.

All of the banks and the major grocery store (owned by Walmart--who else?) have armed guards. The 1 Quetzal bill is worth about 13 cents. It is plastic and made in Canada.

After decades of revolution, guns are popular. In the town of Fronteras we commonly see Guatemalans packing pistols in their pants. In September a guy was shot 14 times (or 20 times according to another report) at the Texaco gas station.

Last Saturday a French tourist and a Guatemalan lady drowned as a result of two small boats colliding. Combine that with all the guns, and maybe that's why they sell coffins on main street.

The new president, Alavaro Colom has work to do--starting with removing his campaign signs which are plastered everywhere.

Walmart bought the largest grocery store chain in Guatemala, and they have been buying up some of the smaller stores, like this Dispensa Familiar. There are now around 100 Walmart owned stores in Guatemala, though none of them use the name Walmart.

Lora bagging groceries--sacks cost extra. The corn tortillas are twice as thick as the ones in Mexico. Instead of asking for a certain number of tortillas, you ask for a certain number of Quetzales worth. Four tortillas per Quetzal. I once asked for 20 (tortillas) but was given 80!

Lora uses the dinghy to go grocery shopping. She usually finds a good parking spot. When not driving the dinghy around, we usually ride in the little mini-van buses. They are supposed to seat 15, but we have ridden with 25, including one guy up on the roof!

This little girl is 4 years old; her parents have a vacation house on the river.

Parker posing.

Mario is 10 years old. The school break here is from November until the middle of January.

This sweet lady, Natividad, sweeps the street in front of her house. Her Nimbus 2000 broom is made from fronds stuffed inside a can of tomatoes.

This little girl is waiting (with her father) for mom to finish shopping at the Dispensa Familiar.

Parker and Pauli's philosophy is "when all else fails, eat rambutans." We read that there are around 3000 kinds of fruit in rainforests, yet the western world eats only 200 different kinds. We're working to diminishing the discrepancy.

This is the most popular beer in Guatemala. Lora calls it chicken beer.

With all his popularity, maybe this rooster should have run for president too.

Christina Lopez Martinez sells rambutans on main street in Fronteras, Guatemala.

Pauli gives Guatemala the thumbs-up.

Rainforest Flowers

2007-11-05T19:31:00.000-06:00

There is a lot of poverty and squalor in Guatemala, but there is also an astonishing abundance of fabulous flowers that seem to sprout everywhere and provide some compensation and cheer.

A few hundred acres of rainforest generally contain: 1,500 species of flowers; 750 species of trees; 125 species of mammals; 400 species of birds; 100 species of reptiles 60 species of amphibians; 150 species of butterflies; and 50,000 species of insects.

These flowers grow at Xalaja, our marina.

Although rainforests cover only 5-7% of the earth, they house over 50% of all the plants and animals. Rainforest plants and trees are rich in food and medicine.

Much of Latin America's tropical rainforests have been cut down in order to graze cattle (read hamburger).
In the past 30 years Central America has lost about 66% of its rainforest due to farmland, firewood, and lumber.

Over 120 prescription drugs come from plants.

Around 25% of pharmaceuticals come from rainforests, yet fewer than 1% of the tropical plants have been tested by scientists.

It is estimated that rainforests contain 3000 types of fruit.

It is believed that 137 plant, animal, and insect species are lost every day due to deforestation.

It is also estimated that 1.5 acres of rainforest are lost every second.

Rainforests are called the earth’s lungs because they produce around 20% of all the oxygen.

These water lilies grow outside our cabana.

If deforestation continues at current rates, 80% of rainforest ecosystems will be destroyed in 40 years.

Deforestation can contribute to erosion, water shortages, and climate changes.

(We’ve gleaned these “facts” off the net, but obviously have not verified them.)

Happy Halloween

2007-11-05T07:03:00.000-06:00

The boys didn't get to dress up this year; instead we went over to a friend's boat so that the children could play games together, eat candy, etc. One thing that we did do on Halloween, was to take pictures of a spider.

For the past month we've been sharing our cabana with a large arachnid, espousing the philosophy of live and let live. We figured that if she had grown to this size we may as well let her live a little longer, so we mostly just ignored her. Sometimes we'd see her in the bathroom, sometimes by the front door, and one night she was perched on the nightstand about a foot away from my ear.

Then for a little amusement I emailed a photo of it to a friend who did some research on the web and sent us some alarming news. Apparently this looks like the species called phoneutria which in Greek means "murderess." It is also known as a wandering spider, and we learned that in 2007 these spiders appeared in the Guinness Book of World Records as the most venomous animal in the world! There are around 39 different species of it. And they are known for being shipped on banana boats (despite sounding like an urban legend).

At spiderzrule.com we learned this: "These spiders are extremely fast, extremely venomous, and extremely aggressive and are ranked among the most venomous spiders known to man. In fact, the Brazilian Wandering Spider is the most venomous spider in the New World!"

Sweet dreams and Happy Halloween.

The Continuing Aventures of Boisterous

2007-10-27T23:11:00.000-05:00

We have greatly enjoyed meeting other cruisers and making new friends. On the Rio Dulce, we were especially delighted to meet Hal and Marsha Haltom who have spent a year sailing (and climbing)with their three children, Travis 13, Haley 13, and Cameron 13. Yep, they're triplets! They cruise aboard "Cayuse" a Tayana 52. We were equally lucky to meet the Borthwicks aboard "Jireh," a 67' trawler. Brent and Sharon are are doing humanitarian/missionary work along with their children, Samantha 13, Justin 11, and Jessica 9. The group of us enjoyed parasailing,waterskiing, wakeboarding, and visiting a waterpark.

Going parasailing was one of the highlights for William and Henry. They launched off a dock at Mar Marine, and zipped up nearly 200' behind a Boston Whaler with a 115 hp outboard. Dangling from their harness they were able to see all the marinas and some of the small Maya settlements in the area. They flew for about 15 minutes and then landed in the water. I think they're ready to go again

Cruising kids at Rosita's restaurant on the Rio.

More cruising kids at Valle Dorado water park.

Pauli, enjoying a wet ride down a slide.

Lora particularly enjoyed visiting an ancient Maya ruin called Quirigua which was established more than 1,500 years ago. Although not as famous as Tikal or Coban, the Stelae here, carved from single blocks of stone, are among the best and largest anywhere. The tallest of them are around 35 feet high and weigh as much as 120,000 pounds.

The magnificent ceiba tree is the national tree of Guatemala. They can tower up to 230 feet.

While on the Rio we have been attending church at Morales, a town about 20 miles away.

Lora and I met a wonderful British couple, Christine and Bryan King who invited us to swim as their guests at the Catamaran Hotel. They have lived in Guatemala for around ten years. They have a historic 45' wooden boat "Mustang" which is more than 75 years old. It is beautifully maintained/restored.

Later they took to a Mayan village where they built a much needed clinic some years ago.
It took them and other volunteers over nine months to finish it. It is quite a place and impressively well-stocked with medicine and supplies.

At the village of Las Brisas, Christine is known as "Christina Vitamina" because of the nutrition program that she launched. She is also loved for the bags of treats that she brings with her to pass out to the children.

The village children were a little shy at first, but perhaps because we brought five boys of our own, or perhaps because of the candy, the kids were soon following us around and talking to us in Spanish and Q'eqchi. They showed us two litters of puppies.

This is fairly typical rain forest wear. Guys carry machetes everywhere, on bikes, on buses, in town. While we were in Las Brisas one man was brought in on a wheel barrow after accidentally cutting his foot with his machete.
This lovely woman was very shy and did not speak any Spanish. I believe that she had a single tooth. A major hazard for the Maya is that they cook inside their huts, and continually breathing the smoke from the fire is the equivalent of smoking 20 packs of cigarettes a day! Most of the floors were made of dirt.

Hilario is known for making sturdy dug-out cayucas from the San Juan tree. He offered to make one for me for about $300. He makes them by hand with just a small adze. Many of the Maya fish for a living because in some place the clay soil is not suitable for farming.

After visiting the village of Las Brisas, we took a tour at Casa Guatemala, a sad little orphanage.

Here Pauli poses is in the boys' dormitory. We were impressed with how neat this room was. At the orphanage there are currently about 180 children from 4 years old to 18. There are several volunteers that work and teach there. Our tour guide was Fawn Gibson from Salt Lake City, Utah.
The orphanage raises pigs to sell, and they are sometimes butchered on the property. They also raise and sell chickens and eggs. The children eat a lot of beans and rice, and they usually get one piece of fruit (often banana) and a bowl of mush for a snack.

In the past volunteers built tanks for hydroponics so that the orphanage could raise more of its food. Another group of volunteers built a system that makes electricity from pig dung, but the system is not currently in use.

One Saturday afternoon we decided to take a bumpy bus ride to Boqueron, a tiny town, where a river has carved a spectacular gorge about 400' deep and sometimes only about 40' wide.

We hired Hugo Chub to take us up the canyon in his dug-out canoe. Because this is the rainy season we had to paddle against a strong current. There are several caves along the way, and we saw some big bats.
We had to negotiate small rapids, logs, and boulders. At one point, he and and I both had to jump into thigh-deep water to push the 15' cayuca past a difficult spot.

The howler monkeys usually make a racket overhead. Moss hangs down from the trees which often span the gap between the cliffs. We would love to return.

Rio Dulce

2007-10-18T08:38:00.000-05:00

Recently someone described this place as "the Rio that swallows up gringos." It is so lovely here that many cruisers who intend a short stop end up staying semi-permanently. Already we are looking forward to coming back.

There are so many luscious flowers and interesting plants and trees that we will dedicate a future post exclusively to that.

One afternoon we dinghied to Laguna Salvador where there is a Mayan village that welcomes visitors. While there we met this little girl, Marta. She had been soaking corn and was getting ready to grind it by hand.

William posing in front of a costume worn by the Maya during the Dance of the Deer.

Outside there was a flock of turkeys, and the males were strutting around with their tail feathers up and their waddles wiggling trying to impress the hens who seemed to ignore them.

The castle/fort San Felipe is just about a half mile upstream from us. The boys love climbing around and exploring all the rooms and dungeons. It has been rebuilt many times over the centuries.

Lora and William.

One of our favorite activities is motoring up the many nearby rivers. There are small Maya settlements along most of them. One afternoon we dinghied 3-4 miles up a small creek. We had to go under logs, and deal with small rapids, and rocks, and stumps. We saw bats that fish, huge beehives, lots of lizards and birds, and had quite an adventure.

The palapas here as so different from the ones in Mexico; they have steeper roofs, and more openings for ventilation.

Lora and Parker at the Manatee preserve where we took an enjoyable hike through the rain forest. There are majestic mahogany trees and the San Juan tree which is used for making the dug-out cayucas.

The towering bamboo is often used in building the local palapa homes.

One day we took a bus ride into Puerto Barrios an important port. From there Chiquita, and Dole, ship fruit to many parts of the world. Typical of some port cities, Puerto Barrios was dirty, crowded, smelly, and loud. The shopping mall had a fence around it, and security guards monitor those who enter or exit.

Your bananas are on their way from Puerto Barrios.

A few days ago we dinghied 30 miles round trip and then hiked along some farms for an hour to visit aquas calientes, where a hot spring flows over a waterfall and into a creek. There is a cave under the waterfall.

Henry on some roots at the hot-springs.

One morning Warren decided to do his schoolwork in the dinghy.
Henry loves to fish. He gives some of his catch to the Rosita at the restaurant next door. Here Henry lets Parker hold one of the fish he caught. Unfortunately, even small fish like this one end up at the market, and the river is being over-fished.

Parker with coconut.

Going to Guatemala

2007-10-03T23:05:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Guatemala

We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore; in fact, they filmed the original Tarzan movies here, which gives one a sense of the setting. We motored about 20 miles up a winding river gorge edged by 300’ cliffs dripping with green vegetation: mahogany and teak trees, palms, vines, orchids, and other exotic flowers and fauna. Guatemala means something like “land of many trees.”

The whole way up we passed Maya Indians in their little dugout cayucas. There are several creeks that feed into the river and a couple of places with hot springs. Further up, Lake Izabal, surrounded by misty mountains, is home to about 15 small and sometimes run-down marinas scattered over a few miles. There is a small Spanish fort, and there are ancient Maya ruins a bouncy bus-ride away.

This place looks like something right out of Conrad’s Heart of Darkness—a combination of swamp, rainforest, and jungle. From where we first anchored out, we could hear a platoon of howler monkeys up in the trees which themselves are dripping with orchids and other plants, some of which look like cactus. Howler monkeys are supposed to be the loudest animal on the planet.
There are flamboyant quetzals, toucans, macaws, canaries, parrots, hummingbirds, white pelicans, black coots, frigate birds, eagles, and buzzards. There are lizards that run across the top of the water. Large bats that hunt fish, swimming iguanas, turtles, river otter, nutria, manatee, and jaguars. And as if that were not enough, it has been surprisingly cool here, lows in the upper 60s.

Castle San Felipe was built in 1652 when 2/3rds of Spain’s revenue came from the new world. Pirates and buccaneers of course wanted that gold and silver, so the fort was built complete with moat and bronze cannons. The Spanish ships were rowed up the river. Lake Izabal is 26’ above the Caribbean, so there is a pretty good current.

At first glance, the town of Fronteras compares to Calcutta: loud, dirty, smelly and poor. No sidewalks--tourists crossing the street play chicken with the trucks, taxis, mini-van buses, and motorbikes.

There are the usual open markets with colorful displays of fruits, vegetables, and spices. The diesel fumes, burning trash, sewer smells are accompanied by street vendors, flies, trash, loose dogs, children, prostitutes, passed out drunks, beggars, back-packers, and of course boaters. In short, this place is cool, and exactly what we signed up for—a third-world education.

Outside of Fronteras, the scene is dramatically different. The slow pace is set by the meandering current of the river. Mayas still fish and farm as they have for perhaps a thousand years. The wildlife and vegetation are suggestive of times past.

The cruisers here aren’t in any hurry to go anywhere, at least not until after hurricane season.

The marinas are little enclaves inhabited by retirees living off of social security and a few foreigners waiting to sail somewhere after hurricane season. Some, originally with more ambitious plans, liked it so well they are staying put. Virtually every type of boat exists here, from fancy catamarans and boats kept Bristol fashion, to rust heaps, and loose affiliations of planks.

We have seen boats from Holland, England, France, Germany, Sweden, Canada, Australia, and several from the Republic of Texas. Each morning there is a VHF radio net where cruisers exchange information about—emergencies, people lost and found, pot-lucks, movie night at the marina, weather, stuff to buy, sell, or trade, local specials at restaurants, arrivals, departures, and so forth.

We anchored out the first two days, but now we are at the small Xalaja marina (Sha-la-ha) which is built on an exotic looking swampy island next to Fronteras. For $220 a month, we have a boat slip AND a cute but creaky little two-bedroom cabana that sleeps six (2 sets of bunk beds and two singles) built right over the water in what looks like a nature preserve. (Yes, we take malaria pills; no, we don’t drink the water.)

Our cabana is so surrounded by trees and foliage that you can’t really see it, so this picture is of the cabana next to us. The ceiling is made of bamboo; the roof is tin, and it is completely screened-in to keep the mosquitoes out.

Because of hurricane season, most of the marinas are full, so we didn’t have a lot to choose from. Even so, it took us most of the day to dinghy to all of them, talking to owners and cruisers and then trying to pick one before committing to a month’s stay.

There is growing community of expatriates who live aboard here more or less permanently. And although the marinas are relatively cheap, the electricity is not. It can cost as much as the slip if one runs an air-conditioner.

Of course to get here we had to sail for three and half days from Isla Mujeres which for us means sea-sickness, a.k.a. feeding the fish. The first day we had a strong current against us, so we averaged three knots, but the highlight was when Henry caught us a nice fish for dinner. He has been dying to catch and eat a fish for quite a while, so he was delighted and proud, and the fish was delish with just lime and salt. If you know what kind of fish this is please tell us.

The second day, a little bird, perhaps a swallow, landed on our boat. We were quite a ways offshore, and I suspect that she was tired. Pauli was conked out in the cockpit, and she flew right over and perched on the coaming about six inches away from him. Then she flew off and came back, this time landing right on Lora’s head. And finally, she flew down below and made herself a little nest on my bed. The boys sliced up some almonds for her to eat, and they put out water, though I don’t know if she took any of it.

William and Parker were the only ones that didn’t throw up on this passage, so they get the iron-stomach award. On our previous crossing, Parker did get sick, so this time we were relieved.

Pauli suffered the worst. Lora uses Scopolamine patches, and what we call a shock watch, relief bands that send a small electrical current to a pressure point inside the wrist. They seem to work for us.

We had a big harvest moon which kept us company on night watches. And it was nice to be able to check the sail’s trim without having to use a flashlight. Leaving Cancun we saw several ominous funnel clouds, but they were higher up than the ones we had previously seen off the coast of Louisiana

The second day a couple of wheels inside our autopilot broke, so Warren took a long turn at the wheel while I fixed it. It’s no fun steering for long periods of time. That night we made around 7 knots with just a jib up.

The third day the wind and waves were abeam, making for a rolly passage. As we neared the mouth of the Rio Dulce, we saw lots of palm branches and small logs and, unfortunately, trash floating out to sea.

There is a 5’6” deep sand bar that guards the entrance to the Rio, and almost everyone that we have talked with has run aground there. Our boat draws about 6’, but we were armed with a series of 8 way-points that we got from another cruiser. Fortunately we arrived exactly at high-tide, 9 p.m. and were able to cross without hitting the bottom.

Unfortunately, we were so concentrated on the chart-plotter/gps and depth sounder that we failed to notice the fisherman’s net strung right across the channel. It fouled our prop, and we were quite stuck.

I was loath to cut the fisherman’s net, so we put down our anchor and waited for daylight. We worried that we might get in trouble or that the fisherman would be mad.

At 7 a.m. the fisherman arrived in a large cayuca. He stripped right down to his briefs and dove in the water to untangle the mess. We loaned him a mask and flippers. I was very grateful I didn’t have to clear the prop myself; he was very grateful for the $20 that we gave him. Lora told him, “You caught a very big fish!” He smiled shyly.

A few hours later we were boarded by officials from immigration, customs, port captain, and health department. Of course they all want money. They all have forms for us to fill out, and they all needed us to go to their office to get an official stamp or sticker or paper or something.

The port town of Livingston, which can only be reached by boat or plane, has seen more prosperous times. The side streets are cobbled. Although it was once the main port for Guatemala, now it is really just an entry point for the Rio Dulce, eco-tours and that kind of thing. We were surprised by how many tourists there were from many different countries—everything from scruffy backpackers to portly retirees.

The town lies atop a steep hill and overlooks the Gulf of Honduras. Belize is just about 15 miles away. The palapas, and general architecture here are different from those in Mexico--steeper rooflines, more corrugated tin, fewer cinder blocks and more wood houses. The town also has a unique mix of Maya Indians, mestizo Mexicans, Ladino, and Garifuna, descendents of African slaves whom the British deported to Roatan centuries ago. Some of them speak Garinagu, a dialect of Arawakan. In Guatemala the Garifuna are found mostly in the towns of Livingston and Puerto Barrios, but they also live in Belize and on the Bay Islands of Honduras.

Guatemala has a population of about 13 million, and it was involved in a 36 year-long civil war until just ten years ago. Sadly, Guatemalans know all about having colonels and generals for president. They’ve had a coup d’etat, military juntas, para-military groups, CIA involvement, guerilla rebels, Marxist movements, Christian socialists, revolution, propaganda, disputed elections, genocide, massacres, rape, torture, and disappearances. During this time some 200,000 Guatemalans were killed; many others immigrated illegally into Mexico and the U.S. to avoid the upheaval at home. As if revolution were not enough, in 1976 an earthquake killed 25,000 people.

Rigoberta Menchu, an indigenous woman (Quiche-Maya) ran for president this year but did not do well. She won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1992 in part because of her book “I, Rigoberta Menchu.” Some years later Anthropologist David Stoll conducted a thorough investigation and repudiated some of her claims. In its entire history, only three Latin American countries have ever had an indigenous president: Mexico, Peru, and Boliva. In Guatemala about 40% of the population is indigenous. There are several Maya sub-groups and 20 distinct Maya languages.

Some of the social and economic problems date back to the late 1800s when banana (and pineapple) farming and shipping took hold through the efforts of the United Fruit Company which owned millions of acres of land throughout Central and South America. Of course they were in cahoots with the government, and of course they did all in their power to maintain a monopoly, and of course they often exploited workers--thus the popularity of Marxist ideologies.

On the other hand the company also developed the infrastructure of rural areas; they constructed roads and railroads, drained swamps, built ports, provided free elementary school education, minimized malaria, employed the most workers in Central America, paid the highest rural wages, and for a time they even delivered the mail.

Although public education is technically free in the primary and secondary schools, students must provide their own books, supplies, uniforms, lunch, and transportation. Because of this many children can’t afford to go to school, and so nearly 30% of the adult population is illiterate. In Guatemala per capita income averages $4000 a year, but the minimum wage is only $6.50 per day, so many are living on $1,600 a year or even less.

Well, we have a lot of exploring to do, so we’ll report back with more pictures and news in a couple of weeks.

Beautiful Beaches

2007-09-22T15:56:00.000-05:00

Beautiful Beaches

There are many things that we love about Isla Mujeres—reasons why we’ve returned six times. What keeps bringing us back is the beautiful water and beaches. There is also something romantic about the idea of an island, and this one is only 7 miles long and less than a mile wide. Palm trees with bright yellow coconuts stand as sentinels around the island.

The north and west end of the island have powdery white beaches festooned with tourists. The east and south end have jagged coral cliffs festooned with iguanas and shells. The island has an interesting mix of beautiful beach-front homes, and tar-paper shacks.

Although the island is somewhat isolated, it is just a 20 minute ferry ride from Cancun a city of 500,000 where there is an international airport with flights to Houston taking just over an hour. On the mainland there are numerous American stores like Home Depot, Walmart, and Costco as well as all the usual fat-food franchises.

These days all the basics are available on the island--grocery stores, hardware stores, dive shops, banks, ATMs, pharmacy, clinic, restaurants, eco tours, and the ubiquitous curio shops selling trinkets to tourists.

When I first came here 22 years ago things were quieter, and there were far fewer taxis and foreign travelers. My hotel room was $7. Increasingly tourists are buying up the land and homes. Property values have risen steeply, and in time the workers will have to commute from Cancun.

This tiny island has grown from a sleepy fishing village of three thousand, to a city of 13,000. Even though the fish and shrimp were over-harvested, and those work boats are now rusting hulks, the emphasis shifted to tourism and the island has continued to flourish. Most of the locals are crowded in the middle of the island in cinder block homes with virtually no yard. Hotels and fancy houses fringe the coast.

Isla is increasingly a destination for cruisers because there is a well-protected anchorage here. Ten years ago there were only three marinas on the island, now there are six or seven. In the winter time there are sometimes 40 boats anchored out in addition to the ones tied up in the marinas. But there is nothing quieter than a tourist town in the off-season during a rainy day.

One afternoon recently, William, Henry and I circumnavigated the island via bicycle—about 15 miles, but we kept stopping to take pictures and explore interesting beaches, so it took us about five hours.

We found a neat little cove and so a few days later we all returned via taxi, and spent a pleasant afternoon playing on the beach, climbing rocks, collecting shells, finding sea-glass, and swimming. We admired the intricate brain coral. At one point William and Henry were playing baseball with a piece of driftwood and a shabby coconut. Warren found a lobster shell and antennae that he took home to the boat.

The cove has some formations that look like stalactites that would grow in a bat cave.

Rich and Poor

2007-09-22T12:08:00.000-05:00

Land of the Rich and Poor

Mexico is certainly a land of contrasts. First of all there is the population itself--an interesting mix of Amerindians and Europeans (primarily Spanish). While about 60-65 percent of the population is mixed (Meztizo), about 25-30% is considered purely indigenous, and about 10-15% is mostly Spanish.

At our marina we meet several workers that actually spoke the Yucatec Mayan language. It is also estimated that 1.5 million Mexicans speak Nahuatl--the Aztec language, but there are dozens of indigenous groups and languages here.

As of August 2007 Fortune magazine and the Wall Street Journal indicate that Mexican Carlos Slim is now the richest man in the world with holdings of about 60 billion dollars putting him ahead of the likes of Bill Gates and Warren Buffet.

Although Carlos owns about 100 companies, one of his more lucrative is Telmex—which controls some 90% of the phones in Mexico (a virtual monopoly). All told, Carlos Slim pulls in about $27 million per day—no slim pickings for him.

The irony is that until recently approximately 42% of Mexicans lived in extreme poverty (24% in urban areas). Average annual income barely reaches $10,000 and yet Lora and I find that most things are more expensive here than in the U.S. even at the Walmart in Cancun. At the local grocery stores staples cost as much as in the U.S. though a few locally grown produce items cost less, mangos, oranges (bright green), avocados, and chayotes. Medicine is also cheaper.

Mexicans pay nearly as much for gasoline as we do. Pemex, the only supplier of petroleum in Mexico, has a nationalized monopoly because beginning in 1938 Mexicans wanted to restrict foreign investment.

Pemex has annual revenues of nearly $80 billion, and is one of the largest oil companies in the world. Mexico is the 5th largest exporter of oil. One of the executives from Pemex had his 4 million dollar Azimut yacht parked in the slip next to us at Puerto Isla Mujeres during hurricane Dean.

As we walk around the neighborhoods here, we are struck by two facts, a great number of houses are unfinished—there are piles of sand, and stacks of cinder block in front of about a fourth of the houses, and there are far too many tar-paper and stick shacks. One of our friends here has her house lined with cardboard.

Perhaps because of persistent poverty there are many pretty flowers, and Mexicans have colorful houses. Two general decorating rules seem to apply: any color but white, and don’t use any color that your neighbor used.

The house in the above picture belongs to Lenore (Lenny) Vaughan, who was married to Stevie Ray Vaughan, a famous Austin guitarist who died in a helicopter crash. I think Lenny and her daughter had great fun painting the walls in such psychodelic schemes.

Despite rampant poverty, many Mexicans are quite generous. The Salazar family, for example has invited us to dinner twice, even though obviously it is a bit of a burden to feed our boisterous boys. Mari Salazar is quite a cook, and one afternoon she fixed us " brazo de reina" (queen's arm) which is a local specialty. She also taught us how to make potato pancakes and how to cook chayotes.

Although her one room house is literally made of sticks and tar-paper held together with wire and rope, and although one wall is lined with cardboard, she was completely un-selfconscious about it.

Her sink is outside and basically consists of a water hose and a large basin that drains on the ground. Her stove is the size of a two-burner Coleman camping stove. She had one or two chairs and a small bed, yet she is always smiling. When we left her house, she wanted to give us three bags of rice! Perhaps she felt sorry for us because we live on a boat. We later invited her and her husband over, and Lora made pizza.

There are three primary modes of transportation for those who live on Isla Mujeres: motor scooters, golf carts, and taxis. Very few own a regular car. It is common to see Mexican moms motoring along on their scooter with a baby in their left arm and a child riding on the back. Some build a little wooden seat in front so that their child can perch there. We have seen several famlies of four all riding on the family scooter.

Becuase the average Mexican here does not have airconditioning, their doors and windows are usually wide open making it easy to peek inside. Many sleep in colorful hammocks that are cheaper and cooler and more compact than a bed. In the evenings they congregate outside to enjoy the balmy sea breeze. This promotes a sense of community, and we enjoy watching all the children playing outside while the adults talk. I believe that the large Mexican family is starting to die out. While the birthrate was once around 3.5% it is now at .9%

These shacks are not typical, but a few exist.

Mexican Independance Day

2007-09-17T22:30:00.001-05:00

So last year on my birthday, William, Henry, and I sailed our little 21’ Sea Pearl cat-ketch over to Double Bayou and then up the Anahuac River to the annual Alligator festival. One evening, when a friend couldn’t hail us on the VHF radio, he called the U.S. Coast Guard, who called Lora asking if she had heard from us. She said that she didn’t expect to hear from us for two more days. The Coast Guard said that they were going to send out a helicopter to search for us, and she told them that they shouldn’t. She assured them we were okay. There were no storms, we knew what we were doing, and that we had probably just pulled in somewhere else. An hour later the search helicopter flew right over us, but didn’t see us even though we were right where we said we would be. We made the evening news!

The next day, motor-sailing up the Anahuac River, the outboard motor bracket broke, and it plopped right into about 12’ of water the color of café con leche. I pulled on my swim suit to dive for the motor, feeling around in the murk. At one point I swam up on a submerged log, and I thought it was a giant alligator lurking on the bottom. A few minutes later, while still diving for the illusive outboard, William and Henry noticed an alligator about 7’ long swimming over to investigate what was thrashing about in the water. Yikes.

I returned the next day with a scuba tank, but I was a little nervous about my large reptilian friend. Even with a tank it still took me about two hours to find the motor. Lora and I celebrated with dinner at Papadeaux’s where to my amusement, I noticed that they actual served alligator; revenge never tasted so sweet!

This year, my birthday fell on Sunday, so we celebrated Saturday. It just so happens that September 16th is also Mexican Independence Day, and in Mexico it is celebrated on the evening of the 15th so that worked out well.

We left the marina on Isla Mujeres and went first to the fuel dock. One of our boisterous boys tied the bow-line while I tied the stern. After we fueled up and paid, we were on the dock dumping trash when I noticed that the bow-line had come loose. Our boat was swinging out into the busy channel, but our dinghy was still tied to the dock. Everyone jumped aboard quickly while I loosened the stern-line and told Lora to take off. I jumped into the dinghy and motored up to the boat and climbed on. The episode provided a couple of minutes of excitement.

After that, William climbed up to the spreaders, using the mast steps that he installed, and video-taped us as we motored through a narrow cut that leads out toward Cancun. One of our objectives was to photograph the boat on the turquoise water.

As we approached the coast, Lora commented that the sky was sure dark and that we would probably get hit by a thunderstorm any minute. I assured her that it probably wouldn’t hit us, and if it did, it wouldn’t be for at least an hour. Ten minutes later the wind was gusting to 30 knots and the rain was pouring down. We doused the mizzen sail and furled the jib, and moved along with just the mainsail. Everyone scurried below except William and me. We tried to stay dry under the Bimini. Fortunately, in about forty minutes the skies cleared; we continued toward Cancun, and took some pictures of Boisterous from the dinghy.

That night we went into town for dinner. For a buck, one gets a fish or chicken taco with beans, rice, a mini-salad, and pico de gallo. We also had some of Mexico’s famous pan dulce. While eating we were serenaded by fire dancers.

Later at the town plaza, we watched as the senoritas danced in their colorful dresses. The Mexican Navy band marched around; there were patriotic speeches, Mariachi music, the shouting of el grito, and then fireworks—all adding up to another memorable birthday.

The Dinghies

2007-09-08T11:30:00.001-05:00

We brought along an 11'6" inflatable Avon, and a little 10' sailboat. While cruising, the dinghy is our car, and we use it to go to the grocery store in town--just over a mile away. We also use it to go buy water, and of course when we're anchored out we use the dinghies to get to shore. We also enjoy exploring the island via the dinghies.

Some friends of ours here, Steve and Michelle, loaned us their Walker Bay 10' sailing dinghy, which is exactly like ours, so we have been able to race each other and play sailboat tag. It's always more fun to sail against another boat.

Our marina is an a protected lagoon, so each afternoon, when school-work is finished, the boys go out and race each other.

At first I could sail faster than both William and Henry, but they have become competant sailor's and can both beat me. I'm still a little faster than Lora, but probably not for long. Pauli and Warren are getting sailing lessons, and soon they will be able to sail on their own. Parker loves going for dinghy rides

Requiem for a Sultana

2007-08-30T13:30:00.001-05:00

I’m trying to read under a Mexican palapa, but I’m distracted by the giant catamarans—like nautical space stations—powering by with paying passengers searching for something pretty to write on a postcard.

These cats fly neither jib nor mainsail, they’ve been reduced to tricked-out tourist conveyance traps—twenty-five bucks for a quick snorkeling trip. Technology has brought change to the tropics where all the new high-speed ferries are catamarans that bring a fresh batch of tourists from the mainland every 30 minutes.

I watch the masts of my Cheoy Lee, 50’ away, sway in the undulating wakes. My wife, Lora, and I are sailing for a year with our five boys aboard our boat Boisterous—hoping to augment their home-schooling with some third-world perspectives. The oldest is 14, the youngest just 3. Right now, two boys are inside the boat doing schoolwork. One is in the cockpit, and another is hanging in a hammock reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Lora, and the youngest are paddling a pink kayak toward a rusty steel wreck on a nearby reef.

Every hour I move my Adirondack-back chair a foot or so to stay in the palapa’s shade. I can see four or five boats anchored out in the Isla Mujeres harbor--about 7 miles offshore from Cancun. A black bitch and her two pups sleep under the dock, and several blue-green needle-fish dart about in the shallows. Overhead majestic frigate birds hover, looking like prehistoric pterodactyls with sharp elbows and split tails.

One hundred yards away the wood-planked Sultana Del Mar sits sadly against a dilapidated dock, her paint peeling and rust streaking down her sides like teary mascara. But in her youth, she too ferried tourists in her belly--tourists with pockets full of paper pesos--tourists diligently searching for a t-shirt to take home to Toledo, Ohio. In her heyday, the Sultana served as Hollywood’s whore, starring in the 1984 feature film, Against All Odds with Rachel Ward and Jeff Bridges. But that fact is lost on today’s Play-Station generation.

This is my sixth trip to this coconut island; three times I’ve arrived under sail--sunburned and salt-stained. Twenty years ago when I was a college student, the Sultana first ferried me from Puerto Juarez--her proud bow plowing turquoise waves. She conveyed schools of children on field trips, honeymooners and hippies, peasants and paupers. Back then a hotel room on Isla Mujeres was a mere $7—no phone, no pool, no pets; there were fewer taxis, tourists, and t-shirt vendors.

So there she sits, mostly rotten and utterly forgotten—all her memories and secrets soon to slip quietly into the sea. Later some of her planks might be scavenged to reinforce a tar-paper shack. Ah, but once starlets and directors trod upon her decks, where now only the dung of pelagic birds sits steaming under a tropical sun.

Rest in peace, Sultana, and thanks for the rides.

Isla Mujeres

2007-08-30T13:05:00.001-05:00

Playing in the water is one of the nice things about spending time on an island. Give a bunch of boys a pile of sand, and they can play for hours, digging holes, burying each other, and making sand-castles.

At Marina Milagro Del Mar the owners provide kayaks, and it's nice to go paddling just before sunset. Each night there is a spectacular sunset.

There are several hammocks and palapas that are great for lounging and reading. The boys sometimes do their schoolwork there.

One of our boat neighbors, Christopher, generously loaned us his Hookah dive compressor. The boys watched several instructional diving DVDs, and then we practiced in the shallow water off the dock before taking the rig out in the dinghy and diving off the north end of the island. William and Henry loved sitting on the bottom in about 15' of water and watching the colorful fish dart in and out of small caves in the reef.

Harvesting Sea Turtle Eggs

2007-08-30T12:03:00.000-05:00

Isla Mujeres is a breeding ground for three or four species of turtles, and there is now an effort to help them survive. Because of a number of predators (humans, dogs, fish, birds, raccoons, fishing nets) only about 1 out of 1000 turtle eggs hatch and live to reproduce.

Turtles can remain under water for up to five hours, and they can sometimes slow their heart rate down to about one beat per minute. It takes them 25-30 years to become sexually mature. Some species can live 80 years and can weigh over 1000 pounds.

Lora, William, and I volunteered to help harvest turtle eggs. We arrived on the beach late one stormy night and waited in the intermittent rain until one large female white turtle (white on the underside) slowly worked her way up the beach where she herself was hatched decades ago. With her flippers she started digging a hole, but she soon hit rock. She abandoned this hole and went down the beach 100 feet and dug another hole around 30 inches deep.

She straddled the hole and then sort of went into a trance while she laid 140 eggs. As she laid the eggs, we crawled up to the hole on our bellies and reached in to pull out the eggs two or three at a time. The eggs were placed in the backpack of one of a young volunteer, Jesus Ismael.

The eggs are slightly larger than chicken eggs, and they were a little soft. All of the eggs were put into a backpack. Later they would be taken to the turtle farm where they are buried in the sand in little wire cages. After the hatchlings emerge they are kept in tanks for a week or two and then released on the same beach where they were laid. The farm is not allowed to keep the baby turtles for more than a few weeks for fear that if feed, they will not be able to survive on their own.

It was quite an experience to watch this turtle lay her eggs on the same beach where she was born. There was something timeless about the fact that these turtles have been doing this for thousands of years, and that they have overcome huge odds in order to reproduce. Some sea turtles have a keen inner-compass that allows then to accurately navigate thousands of miles. It looked like the turtle was crying as tears rolled out of her eyes while laying the eggs, but apparently this is how she gets rid of excess salt.

Hurricane Highlights

2007-08-22T13:03:00.000-05:00

Hurricane Dean Tracker – weather.com
Storm Path:
Date: Aug. 21, 2007
Time: 5:00 a.m. ET
Winds: 165 mph
Strength: Cat. 5
Direction: Moving W at 20 mph
Latitude: 18.7 N Longitude: 87.8 W

Dean, a rare category-five hurricane, as big as Texas, made landfall on the Yucatan peninsula early this morning. It carried sustained winds of 165 mph with maximum gusts up to 200 mph. Only a handful of category-five hurricanes have ever hit land. This is believed to be the tenth-largest hurricane ever. The eye hit about 80 miles south of us, so we were spared the worst of it.

Back in Houston, our original plan had been to sail straight to Cartagena, Columbia, so that we would be out of the way of hurricanes, but we know what often happens to the best laid plans. It took quite a while to get Boisterous ready to leave, and then we never really got our new weatherfax system or single side band radio to work properly despite weeks of tinkering with it.

After arriving in Mexico we were hesitant to cross the Caribbean without being able to get weather information. Plan B was to stay in Isla Mujeres, do a few repairs, get supplies, get clearance from the port captain, customs, and immigration, and then head for the safety of Lake Isabal up the Rio Dulce in Guatemala. Unfortunately, the Rio is a rain forest and this is their rainy season. They get around 20 inches of rain per month. We were also concerned that all the marinas might be full. Since the Rio is 40 miles inland, we wouldn’t get a breeze, and without the electricity of a marina, it would be uncomfortable.

Plan C was to go to marina “Puerto Isla Mujeres” in case we couldn’t get out to Rio Dulce quickly enough. Puerto Isla Mujeres is a resort inside a lagoon and is considered the best hurricane hole for hundreds of miles around. They have strong floating docks which have survived two or three previous hurricanes. The other marinas, though much cheaper, use inferior wood for their pilings, and they don’t have floating docks, so lines have to be tended as the water rises or recedes.

As soon as it became evident that tropical storm Dean was developing (about 11 days before its arrival) we began getting ready to leave for the Rio Dulce. We went to Cancun to buy supplies and malaria medicine. We did laundry. We bought food and water. We studied the charts and programmed way-points into our GPS. Meanwhile, tropical storm Erin brought us a lot of wind and rain and made leaving impossible. Although forecast to slow down, Dean kept moving toward us very quickly.

Our route to Guatemala, about 350 miles away, is against the prevailing currents. There is also a sand bar at the mouth of the Rio Dulce which measures 5.5’, and our boat draws 6’, so we would need to cross at high tide. In checking the tide tables, the highest tides would occur in the middle of the night. Having never been there, the last thing we wanted was to try to find a narrow channel in the dark. Furthermore, if we had problems with wind or with our motor we would be in a vulnerable position.

By the time we were ready to leave, because of Erin, and because of Dean’s speed, we had five days before Dean’s arrival. It would take three days to sail to Guatemala, and half a day to clear-in, and most of another day to motor up the river, and this just didn’t leave enough of a margin for safety, so we decided to move to the other marina.

Puerto Isla Mujeres drastically raises their rates during hurricanes. But about two weeks before Dean, Lora and I went there and met the dock-master who gave us a tour of the world-class facilities, and he gave us a rate-sheet. As soon as Dean became category one, we casually went to the marina stating that we wanted to stay for a month, making no mention of the hurricane, and were given the normal rate of about $29 per day, versus the hurricane rate (for our size) of $136 per day!

The luxury yachts from Cozumel and Cancun all come here for hurricanes, and the boys have been eyeing some of the boats here like a 60’ Alden ketch. There is an 85’ Azimut, and several huge Hatteras. The boat right behind us is a 126’ Atwood. We got to go aboard a sleek Swedish Swan. At 41’ I think we’re the smallest boat here

This marina is a beautiful place with manicured landscaping. There are banana trees, and coconut palms, and bright red flowers. There is a large pool with swim-up bar and a kiddie pool which Parker loves. Although we are in a protected lagoon, the marina also has a beach club on the Cancun side. The boys are most interested in all the iguanas here. Although almost vicious-looking, they are actually vegetarian. We feed them carrot and celery, and enjoy photographing them.

Once we got into our new slip, four days of hard work began. We removed all the sails; we took down the bimini and dodger; we dismantled the wind-generator, and solar panels. We took down our radar reflector. We stowed jerry jugs, and the outboard motors; we removed our dorade vents; we tied off the halyards. We deflated our inflatable dinghy, and we took our sailing dinghy ashore and tied it to trees. We removed the anchor from the bow, and put out 14 lines (we usually have 6) and chafe protection. Our dock was crisscrossed with lines so that we practically had to do the limbo to get to our slip.

There are seven sailboats here with American cruisers aboard, and we helped some of our new friends, who couldn’t get a slip, move their boats into the mangroves. There is always a strong sense of community and mutual help among cruisers. One friend was asked to move from his spot in the mangroves because he had tied to some pilings that someone owned. He said he wouldn’t go unless the authorities asked him to move. An hour later the Mexican Coast Guard came, and so we helped him move to another spot. We loaned him an anchor and helped him kedge out some lines.

It seemed to us that many waited until the last minute to prepare. Two days before the hurricane hit, there were long lines of people trying to buy water and Coke. The night before Dean arrived, people were finally boarding up windows. Fortunately the Mexican government makes it illegal to buy, sell, or consume beer during a hurricane. There were also curfews in place to minimize looting.

We also made arrangements to stay in a two bedroom apartment over the small LDS branch on the island in case conditions warranted leaving the boat. We decided that Lora and the four youngest boys would go to the apartment, while William and I stayed behind to look after the boat. Had the hurricane been a direct hit, we would have all gone to the apartment.

At the marina we have cable access to CNN, so we had almost continual coverage and could see where the storm was heading thanks to satellite images. Sunday afternoon we took food, water, bedding, and some valuables to the apartment, and on Monday Lora and the younger boys moved there. The boys were excited about sleeping in a hammock for the first time.

As the hurricane hit, William and I watched a movie and ate Cheetos. The radio broadcast emergency instructions in the Mayan language, in Spanish, and in English. At the marina the wind increased from 15 to 30 and then to about 45 miles an hour steady--with gusts to maybe 75 mph. In the marina some trees were knocked down, and we lost electricity for a few minutes at a time, but aside from that, thank goodness, the worst damage was sustained by the bag of Cheetos—by morning it was almost gone.

We are very happy to report that we sustained no damage whatsoever. Yesterday, after the hurricane passed over, it was breezy but beautiful. The boys went swimming and fed iguanas.

Setting Sail

2007-08-15T16:46:00.000-05:00

As we begin our year-long adventure, motoring out of Clear Lake and then sailing from Galveston Bay out to the Gulf of Mexico, I’m filled with concerns: Did I forget anything? Will our equipment work? Will we have mechanical problems? Will the weather hold up? It’s cloudy, and it rains intermittently, but everyone is in the cockpit and a little quieter than usual. Perhaps they are all deep in thought too. The motor hums along nicely. We’ve had so many minor problems with motors in the past that Lora and I are both a little paranoid. Anytime there is a variation in RPMs we both panic for an instant. Usually it just means someone bumped the throttle, sometimes it means that the fuel filter is clogging, but it could mean something serious.

Since we’re all very prone to sea-sickness, this time we are prepared: we’ve brought along Dramamine, Bonine, Transderm Scopolamine, and even suppositories for nausea and vomiting. We also have special battery-operated wrist-bands that deliver a little jolt of electricity to the inside of the wrist which helps minimize sea-sickness. There are five settings. I usually wear it on one. Lora is usually at two or three. At five, most people will cry uncle. In addition, Lora has packed ginger snaps, and ginger ale--reported to help with mal de mer.

Once in the Houston ship channel we hoist the main and motor-sail with the autopilot. We dodge tankers and freighters, and about five hours later we reach the long Galveston jetties. The waves are steep and scary and mean. We’ve never had such a rough ride. The boat is pitching and yawing and rolling but no one says anything. The black clouds look ominous, menacing. We’d be more wet if it weren’t for our new dodger and our big bimini.

No one is hungry, no one is talking, and in these conditions I know someone will throw up soon. That honor goes to nine year-old Warren, and he is followed by his younger brother Pauli. Though usually active and talkative, three year-old Parker lies quietly in his bunk. We unfurl the genoa and set our course for Cartagena Columbia about 2000 miles away. On deck we have strapped down six jerry jugs of extra diesel fuel (around 70 gallons), two jugs of water, and one jug of gasoline. In addition, the boat holds about 40 gallons of fuel and 100 gallons of water. Our 10’ Walker Bay sailing dinghy is strapped down on the cabin top which makes visibility difficult. We also have an 11’6” Avon inflatable in the cockpit locker. On the stern rail we have a 15 hp outboard motor and a 2hp outboard for the dinghies.

Although Lora and I had talked about William and Henry helping us stand watch at night, After about 11 p.m. everyone is asleep, and I’m left to stand watch alone. There are oil rigs all around us, and I scan the horizon every 15 or 20 minutes. It is exhausting, even though for decades I have stayed up late. The wind is around 15 knots, and we’re sailing along at about 7 knots. At dawn Lora comes on deck and relieves me, and I go below to get a little sleep before all the boys wake up.

I’m sea-sick for two days, but fortunately I don’t vomit. William doesn’t throw up either; everyone else does. On the morning of day three, I feel better, and am ready to eat. By the fourth day, I’m reading novels, and William is also well enough to eat. Pauli and Warren vomit the most. Lora gets sick a few times, but much less than on other crossings. She is using the electric shock watch, Dramamine, and the ear patch. After the second day there is less wind, and we often motor sail. At one point, our fuel filter clogs, and when I change it, there is a layer of gunk 1/4th inch thick which worries me. But after that one dirty filter, we have no more problems though we are consuming a little more fuel than we had anticipated. The next two days there is almost no wind. The sea is glassy calm as we motor along slowly burning up our fuel. On our three prior crossings we’ve either had no wind, wind on the nose, or too much wind. This trip is also falling into that pattern.

During the sea-sick period, William writes in his journal: “I promise myself, if I ever have a sailboat I will never go offshore. There is nothing fun, adventurous, cool, relaxing, romantic, or exciting about sailing offshore.”

Lora is often busy with Parker, and so William has really taken over the role of first mate. He helps me raise and lower sails, and he stands watch during a great part of the day. One memorable and miserable night our mizzen sail rips, our genoa sheet breaks, our main halyard jams, our windvane starts banging against the hull, and our running lights short out. We deal with it the best we can and then motor under bare poles. It’s 3 a.m. before William and I finish securing things.

When we left Galveston, we saw a cruise ship named Ecstasy also heading out. We could actually smell their dinner cooking. Four days later we saw the same ship heading back to Galveston after visiting Progreso. We later learned that when these ships are close by, you can usually get your cell phone to work.

I’m a little discouraged at our progress, and a little disappointed with myself for not bringing more fuel along, but then in the afternoon, a school of dolphins comes alongside swimming and jumping and seeming to enjoy themselves and our company. We all go to the foredeck to watch these graceful creatures, and after their show we are all cheered. And then the wind picks up. After that, the pattern is 20 knot winds at night, and 10 knots during the day. Unfortunately the wind is from the direction that we want to go; we’re low on fuel, and we have some things to fix on the boat, so after some discussion, we decide to alter course for Progreso, Mexico, about 130 miles west of Isla Mujeres, but even on this heading we can barely sail our course.

One day William and Henry try fishing, but after only catching Sargasso seaweed and after loosing one of our precious lures, they both retire. Too bad, fresh fish would be a nice change from cup-o-noodle, granola bars, or peanut butter and jelly. One night Lora actually fired up the stove and made macaroni and cheese, and that was a huge hit.

One pleasant surprise is that a $200 autopilot that I bought at a nautical swap-meet has worked flawlessly. We’ve hardly had to touch the wheel. These units retail for $1200, and although we had one on a previous boat, it often gave us trouble, especially under sail, but this one has worked so well that we haven’t even bothered using the Monitor windvane that we installed prior to departure.

It was usually hot and humid inside the boat, and during a calm when Lora opened an overhead hatch, Parker said, “Oh good, the AC is on.” William and Henry who sleep up in the v-berth got their bunks soaked through a dorade vent—that’s discouraging. Although we rebedded most of the port-lights, some of them still leak.

Our new roller-furler has worked perfectly. The Single Side Band radio however was a big expense, and so far it has been a disappointment. We hope that later someone can help us find the problem so that we can use it to get weather information while underway.

After seven days, we arrive at Progreso at dusk. Most of our clothes and bedding is dirty or wet. The boat is covered with salt. We’re out of vegetables and fruit, so we’re eager to set foot on land. Instead the boat hits bottom in the channel going in the small jetties, and then about 100’ from the fuel dock at the marina we run hard aground again. Odd, because we’ve been here on two previous occasions, but it turns out that we have arrived during a very low tide. An hour or so later, a guy in a powerboat takes a line from our boat to the fuel dock, and we are able to use the sheet winch to pull ourselves to the dock. Whenever there is a lull in the wind, we have to swat mosquitoes.

The next day we go in search of a marina, and it is the busy season so we have trouble finding a slip. The immigration people come to our boat and we clear in after paying the fees at a bank in town. The boys quickly go in search of marine-life to terrorize, and soon they come running back to the boat to show off a big crab that they’ve caught.

The marina has no electricity at the docks, but they have wonderful restrooms, and a warm shower feels great. We take a “combi” van into town and have dinner at one of the oldest restaurants. Lora and I do e-mail, and then we walk to the beach. On the way home we buy groceries. We’re all craving fresh fruit.

The boys are wide-eyed as they see how some of the locals live. Although there are a few nice houses, we see many shacks and huts, some made out of tar paper and some made out of sticks. The roofs are probably made of palm thatch, and there is a lot of trash everywhere. We see several families of four riding on one rusty scooter.

While in Progreso, William turns 14 years old. Ironically, 10 years before he turned 4 in this same town, so we take him to the same pizza place, and he says he remembers it. Back then I had bought him a cap gun which he enjoyed. It would be nice to stay a few more days, but the marina is expensive, and we still have a lot of miles to sail, so after three days we sail to Isla Holbox where we run aground trying to get into the lagoon. We just throw the anchor over the side and spend the night in 4.5 feet of water. Our boat draws 6 feet.

Next installment: Isla Mujeres.

Who, What, Where, When, Why, How

2007-08-14T16:20:00.000-05:00

What: A year-long sailing sabbatical in the Western Caribbean.

Who: The Guajardo family: Paul & Lora, along with William 14, Henry 12, Warren 9, Paul 8, and Parker 3.

Where: Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, Panama, and Costa Rica.

Why: A decade-long dream; a unique educational experience; family fun; life-time memories; write a book; escape the city, and get closer to nature.

How: On less than $1000 a month (after fixed expenses). Aboard a 41’ Cheoy Lee ketch called Boisterous.

BACKGROUND
Lora and I met and fell in love at the University of Washington, Seattle, in 1989 and were married in 1991. Via the Washington Yacht Club, we sailed around the Puget Sound and the Gulf Islands of Canada,

Prior to setting off on our current trip we crossed the Gulf of Mexico six times with children. We cruised to Mexico’s Isla Mujeres on two occasions. We coastal cruised the Louisiana and Texas Coasts and the Florida Keys. We also sailed the British and U.S. Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Turks & Caicos, and the Bahamas.

Our boat is a 41’ Cheoy Lee ketch, built in Hong Kong in 1977 and launched in 1981. We’re told that the boat once belonged to the New York Knickerbockers. We bought it from Nick, a friend from the marina whom we’d known for about 10 years. One of the things that we liked about the boat is the circular settee and all the bunks--four singles and two doubles, so technically it sleeps eight.

We’ve had a number of sailboats before this one: 21’ Sea-Pearl cat-ketch, Blackwatch 24 cutter, Balboa 26, Southern Cross 28 cutter, Freedom 33 cat-ketch, Columbia 36, Morgan Out-Island 37, and a Formosa 51 ketch. In addition we’d had a fleet of small boats, Sunfish, Laser, Force 5, Widgeon, Puffer, Dolphin Senior, Omega, Capri 14, Daysailer, Pirateer, McDinghy, Snark, Walker Bay, and a number of other small sailing boats.

Lora and I have been thinking about this trip for more than a decade. As an English professor, after getting tenure a few years ago, I became eligible for a sabbatical. My options were: one semester off at full pay, or two semesters off at half pay. We chose the latter, and with a summer at either end, we have a little over a year. Of course the purpose of the sabbatical is to write a book, but with a laptop and the web, that can be done anywhere these days.

My job is rewarding. I get to teach minority literature, Mexican-American literature, British literature (the Romantics, Victorians, and Moderns), the British novel, poetry, autobiography/memoir, and literature of the sea. Right now I’m working on a book about the art and artifice of autobiography.

PRELIMINARIES
When I meet sailors who have circumnavigated, or crossed an ocean, or taken an extended cruise what impresses me most, is not so much their sailing prowess--though certainly admirable--it is merely the fact that they were able to leave. In my opinion, leaving is the hardest part. Getting the money for the boat and buying all of the necessary equipment, getting it installed, figuring out what do about your job or business, deciding whether to sell or lease the house (and finding a buyer or tenant), for us these were the most difficult aspects of taking off for a year.

In preparing to leave, we rented a mini-storage unit, so that we could start clearing out our house. William, Henry, and I built huge shelves in our unit so that we could stack boxes up to the ceiling. We built three big shelves 4’x 8’ and four tiers high. The boys got a lot of experience cutting wood, drilling holes, and driving screws. These shelves allowed us to use practically every square foot of space in our 11’x 25’ unit.

We sold most of our furniture on craigslist, but we traded a few pieces to my brother Daniel for a laptop computer and a digital video camera. He also stored some of our nearly 20 bikes (William and Henry each have four bikes: road, mountain, track, and folding). Right before we left we sold our cars, so that at the end we rented one and also relied on friends.

Since hurricane season runs from June first until November, we were eager to leave as soon as I could turn in grades after the semester ended at the beginning of May. September is the worst month for hurricanes, and June is the most benign, so I wasn’t super worried—Lora doesn’t always share my optimism about the weather. At home, Lora dealt with the younger boys, packed up the stuff that we had decided to keep, shopped for food and supplies, and painted most of the house. Wills, Henry and I worked on the boat, often until midnight.

Wills, for example, installed mast steps up to the spreaders so that we can watch for reefs in the tropics. This entailed drilling four holes per step, tapping threads into the mast, and then putting loc-tite on the bolts. Once a step was installed, he would stand on it, and install another.

We called Henry “the screw guru” because he kept our hundreds of screws, nuts, bolts, and washers carefully organized. He was also good at drilling holes and mounting hardware. Because he is smaller, I sometimes had him crawl inside a lazarette to hold the nut while I turned the bolt. The boys helped install the solar panels, windlass, the self-steering windvane. William helped run wires for our single side band radio which required going up the mizzen mast a few times. They fetched tools and extension cords and countless cups of water.

We are greatly indebted to several friends especially Bill Boyher who worked on our electronics, radio, and software. He made us a box for our propane bottle. He loaned us his drill press, compressor, pressure washer. With his truck we ferried diesel fuel aboard. He ran to the chandler, hardware, and electronics stores numerous times. He downloaded manuals from the web and made us CDs. We can never repay his generosity and kindness. Enoch Sears and Merrill Ballantyne stopped by regularly and were always willing to lend a hand though they had boat projects of their own. Heather Griffin and Auntie Beth made dozens of DVDs to keep the boys amused. Nan Rasor loaned us her car for a few days, and on a number of occasions she baby-sat the younger boys. David Haskett loaned us a portable generator which ended up being very useful. George Calderon is a mechanical genius—the kind of guy who can make or fix anything—and he was always a wealth of advice and help. Other friends brought food or encouragement, and we’re grateful to them all.

Our to-do list was several pages long, and each day a friend or slip neighbor would stop by the boat to ask when we were going to leave. At first we felt that we needed to give a date, so we picked May 15. Later that changed to June first, and then June 15th. Later yet we would say, “next Monday,” or “in a few days.” Eventually, that question got very tiresome. Obviously we couldn’t leave until the boat was semi-ready, and in truth we had no idea when that would be. Sometimes seemingly simple job turned into long tedious project because of difficult access, a broken bolt, the wrong part, incompetence, or bad advice.

Meanwhile our house was up for sale. The Cash family put a contract on it, and we had a closing date. We worked hard to move out and clean, and then the day before we were to close, the bank called and said that the Cash family did not have enough cash (their credit was iffy ), so the sale was off. We were supposed to sail off in a couple of weeks, and now we had no buyer. So we went with plan B—leasing our house. We posted an ad on craigslist.org and soon heard from some new college graduates who were going to do Teach for America in Houston. They signed a year-long lease, and we crossed our fingers. We had a plumber replace toilets and washers, and we also had an air-conditioning guy check our system so that we would have no worries while gone. We also hired a fabulous property manager, Dina Salazar, with Platinum One Properties.

The night before we left there was a huge display of fireworks on Clear Lake bidding us farewell. I guess word had gotten out that we were finally leaving. We sailed out of there on the morning of July 5th.