Just One Day – dan

We had an amazing day yesterday. It started at 5:22 am. We got up early in order to hear the Howler monkeys in nearby Monkey Bay. We motored the dinghy down river and into the bay, cut the engine and then paddled quite a ways up a creek into the jungle.

I we’d never heard Howler Monkeys before so we weren’t quite sure what we were listening for but somehow I thought we know it once we heard it, and we did. Off in the distance we heard a couple of tentative calls, then a few more and then again. After listening for a while we tried some vocalizations on our own. That got an immediate response; the monkeys responses got lower and more frequent and then they started moving toward us. We could see them coming as they moved through the treetops, a troop of about a dozen monkeys. I was hoping to hear some Howlers but I didn’t expect to get lucky enough to see them as well. We experimented with different vocalizations as the troop collected in the trees directly above our heads. We imitated their own sounds, omed, even howled and they called back in kind. That all seemed to be interesting and ok with the monkeys as long as we never got any louder than the alpha monkey. That is until Susan tried overtone chanting, they didn’t seem to like that. So she backed off and we continued with the fun. After about 45 minutes we’d had enough and headed back down the creek.

From Monkey Bay we headed up river and out into Largo de Izabal. We passed the old Spanish fort that guarded the entrance to the lake. The fort dates back to 1600 and was repeatedly attacked by pirates, destroyed and rebuilt over the next 200 years.

On our way back to our marina we stopped at Fronteras to buy some fruit and then ended up having an excellent breakfast on the waterfront in town at Bruno’s Marina. After breakfast we dinked back to our marina for a hike through the jungle to the rubber plantation, which is part of the whole operation.

Before we found the rubber trees we discovered a pristine pool that was feed by a little stream coming out of the jungle. It was too tempting to resist. The cool waster felt delicious after our hike up the hill on that warm afternoon.

After cooling down we set off up hill again to find the rubber trees. The marina is part of a conservation project that includes a private natural reserve and a sustainable forest management project that includes rubber and teak plantations.

Each tree had its bark scored and a little metal cup suspended just below the last cut to catch the latex sap as it drips out of the tree. Latex has been harvested in this part of the world for the past 3600 years. It was used among other things to make the balls used in the ballgame played by the Pre-Columbian people of this region. Those balls were solid rubber, weighed up to 9 lbs and judging by the latex we could smell, were quite stinky. That pungent odor probably didn’t bother the ancient Mayan athletes as they probably had other more urgent things on their minds, such as, the human sacrificial aspect of the games. Who worries about smelly balls when ones life hangs in the balance?

We hiked though the plantation to the top of a hill to discover what they call the Shaman’s Tower. It’s a three story tower that gives one a 360° view of the surrounding countryside, the river, the town of Fronteras, Lake Izabal and the far off mountains of interior Guatemala.

With no one else around and the place powerful and special we decided to hold our own ceremony to honor and consecrate this natural place.

With air temperatures well into the 90s we were fortunate that the hike down was a lot less strenuous than the hike up.

Once back at our marina we jumped into the pool, which felt wonderful. We were soon joined by other boaters and guest whom we chatted with until our skin wrinkled up like prunes. After the pool Susan got a delicious frozen lemonade from the bar and I enjoyed one of the best Margaritas I ever had.

We needed some more quetzals (Guatemalan dollars) so we jumped in our dink and head for the bank. The above photo shows how we get to the bank from our marina. How cool is that? We get an aquatic jungle ride every time we go to the bank.

After the sun set we took our dink up river to a good Mexican restaurant that we had heard of; Las Mexicanas. The restaurant is open air and right on the river and the food was delicious. It was almost 10:00 pm when we got back to Gypsy bringing an end to one very long and eventful day. It was truly an amazing day but we’re definitely going to have to slow down or I won’t survive the week.

Rio Dulce, Guatemala – dan

It’s an amazing river but in order to go up it, one must first pass the bar. I’ve never been good at exams so I’ll admit that I was a little nervous going in. The controlling depth at the entrance of the river is 5.5’ at MLW (mean low water). Gypsy draws five feet even so with fingers crossed we proceed with less margin for error we’ve ever had before. It went well for us with six-and-a-half feet being the shallowest water we experienced during our transit. That’s plenty close for me.

We hadn’t even gotten our anchor down when we were met by the port captain, customs, immigration, health inspector and Raul who was to become our agent and took care of all the clearing in procedures for us. Our cockpit was soon full of officials and I think Susan made friends by the ice tea she passed out to all 7 of our visitors on this hot afternoon. We don’t speak Spanish very well but a cool drink and a smile does a lot to cut across language barriers.

Once we passed the bar exam we motored in our dinghy over to the town of Livingston (pictured above). It’s an interesting town made up Garifuna, Mayan, Latino people. It’s also completely cut off from land travel by the jungle. The only way to reach Livingston is by boat just as we did. While walking around town waiting for Raul to finish his work for us we met an interesting Garifuan man named Philip. He’s well traveled and quite worldly. Philip asked about us and then told us about himself, his town, and this amazing country that we just arrived in. He also hooked us up with a couple of CDs of Garifuna music which I’m enjoying as I type this.

We were thinking about spending the night in Livingston but our agent warned us against it. Guatemala is one of those heads-up kinds of places so being forewarned we jumped in our dinghy, zoomed out to Gypsy, unanchored and headed up the river. Actually it didn’t take much prodding as we were both buzzing with anticipation to see this fabled waterway.

I must say that it exceeded all my expectations, which were pretty high to begin with. Just behind the town of Livingston the hills raise so steep and tall they almost seem to be mountains. We took Gypsy through those hills. Only a mile from the mouth of the river we entered the gorge, which was spectacular. The walls of the gorge are thick with vegetation, mostly huge trees of all types imaginable that grow from the impossibly steep banks of the river which is 200’ or 300’ at its highest.

We have a good guidebook for the river (Freya Rauscher’s 3^rd edition), which was a huge help and still not all hazards are listed and one must remain vigilant on this river. We got a few GPS waypoints from Raul that proved very helpful.

Birds of all types were flying about and some even landed on Gypsy. We saw egrets by the score: egrets flying, fishing, stalking the banks, trees full of egrets and egrets soaring in front of the huge jungle cliffs which provided a stunning verdant background for these startling white birds. Besides being surrounded by the visual beauty we were soon enveloped in all the astonishing and exotic sounds and smells of the jungle.

We also saw dozens and dozens of graceful dugout-canoes being paddled and fished from all up and down the river. The local watercraft are slender and low slung and are paddled with such great skill that they seem to glide almost effortlessly across the water.

The river varied in depth from 8.5’ to 80’, mostly it ran in the 30’ to 50’ range. Safe but demanding one’s complete attention in some spots. At other times my attention to navigation was severely challenge by the beauty of our surroundings.

At one point I was taking a photograph while at the helm when Susan let out a yell and grabbed the wheel. I had gotten so lost in the beauty of the place, lost track of our course. We were heading straight for the nearby bank of the river when Susan intervened.

From time to time we saw grass huts along the banks where the terrain was gentle enough to allow habitation. We witnessed people gathering wood, fishing, traveling and even doing laundry in the river. This river truly is the lifeblood of all the inhabitants that live and work along it.

Because we had left Livingston late in the day we stopped for the night at Texan bay, which is 6 nm up the river from Livingston. It’s the first little bay in the wide part of the river called El Golfete. We dropped anchor in 12’ of water and watched enchantedly as a couple of young kids in a canoe fished with a cast net next to Gypsy in the late afternoon light.

It was an amazing trip up the river. At one magical moment Gypsy was transformed into the African Queen, Susan became Catherin Hepburn and I was the guy who smoked and lived a rough life on the river. Luckily for us there weren’t any Fascists around to ruin the moment.

As we watched the sun set on the river I remarked to Susan; “If this was the only thing we did on our entire trip, just this one day, it would all have been wroth it”.

We raised anchor early the next morning to transit the next 11 miles of the river to Fronteras, that town that’s known to the locals as “Rio Dulce”. Morning is a beautiful time of day on the Rio but then again any time of day seems beautiful on this river.

Once out of Texan bay we were in El Golfete, a section of the river that gets up to 3 miles wide. It was about 9:00 when we arrived at our marina. (the photo below is what we saw upon our arrival) We anchored out front and dinghied in to find out where to tie up.

We were fortunate to end up with a side-tie on the end of the dock. It’s an easy approach and we don’t have to use our anchor as some of the med-tied boats have to do. Plus we seem to get a little extra breeze where we are which is much appreciated.

I must say that I’m thrilled and amazed by the Rio and we’ve only just arrived.

Placencia Belize – dan

It’s a tiny fishing village and downscale resort community at the end of a peninsula with a snug harbor. It also happened to be the sight of the most challenging part of our trip. Susan has told that tale so I’ll only say that it’s through adversity that we grow and that we have done. But there’s much more to the tale of Placencia than adversity.
It’s a tiny fishing village and downscale resort community at the end of a peninsula with a snug harbor. It also happened to be the sight of the most challenging part of our trip. Susan has told that tale so I’ll only say that it’s through adversity that we grow and that we have done. But there’s much more to the tale of Placencia than adversity.
Before I tell my tale let me describe the setting. As I said Placencia is situated at the very tip of a peninsula, a 16 mile long and thin peninsula with the ocean and cays on one side and a huge lagoon on the other. The photo above is of the very tip of Placencia. There are two main routes that run through town (north & south): one is a road and the other a walkway. This gives the villager a very charming aspect and projects a very human scale to the place. Most people walk or bike around, cars are definitely in the minority. There are many sandy paths and boardwalks that connect the road to the walkway (east & west). It was on one of these that we met Cindy one morning as she rode by on her bike, yoga mat in her front basket. We had just been talking about how we should find a place to practice yoga in the morning and then no more the two minutes went by and along came Cindy, obviously from yoga. We asked her how her class was and where she practiced. She said that they don’t have a formal class but that her and a few of her friends get together and practice every morning at 8:30 in the “sanctuary”. She then went on to invite us to practice with them.

It turns out that the meditation sanctuary was built by Wivian. She does regular shared meditations and teaching there. She also lets the yoga practitioners use the space for free. We joined the four other yoginis who practice there regularly for some of the most wonderful yoga practices we ever experienced. As well as being a great place to practice yoga it’s also has some remarkable acoustics.

Susan and I had some incredible chanting sessions there where I omed while she did overtone chanting. It proved to be a powerful and enchanting practice that moved us both. So almost every morning we chanted and practiced yoga. After yoga we would walk to one of our favorite eateries, The Shak on the shore for fruit smoothies then we’d head back to the boat for a swim and some reading.

It was a grueling routine but somehow we managed to holdup. On our way from yoga to the shore we walked right by Karla’s Tortilla Factory were we could get fresh hot tortillas.

The children seemed to be born of the sea. They swam like fish and loved boats. One day four young boys swarmed the dinghy while I was leaving the dock. They climbed aboard looking for a ride. I told them that we could go anywhere they could paddle and then gave an oar to two of them and a one of my sandals each to the other two. They could have been Chris Columbus and crew in the passionate way they paddled that dink around.

We met Gail & Lee one night at a party. They’re an amazing couple who are living their dream (actually many dreams) and they shared some of their story with us. We ended up riding our bikes up the peninsula to their house on the ocean and they took us on a tour of the area in their truck. What we saw was quit a shock. Just up the road from them a huge, upscale resort, casino, 18 hole golf course and 50 acre marina (210 slips) for boats from 30’ to 200’ in length. There’s also an international airport in the works too. It looks like big development and big bucks is headed toward this tiny and charming little fishing village.

We were lingering in this charming place, waiting for our friends Elaine and Tom Hills to arrive for a visit next month when Susan had a brilliant idea as she often does; why don’t we sail over to Guatemala and check out the Rio Dulce as it is supposed to be fabulous and it’s only about 60 miles away. So that’s what we did, we hauled our anchor and pointed Gypsy south once again.

We figured we have almost a month to make the trip to Guatemala, up the river and then back again in time to meet the Hills. As much as we loved Placencia it felt great to be sailing again and especially wonderful to be headed up a jungle river.

Learning as we go…. susan

It has been clear from the start of this journey that one day we just didn’t wake up as cruisers and know what that really means. Processing, processing - sailing seems like the easy part!

We were visiting aboard Gypsy with some new friends we met and in our laughter about surviving with your beloved in a very small space, I admitted that, honestly, that has not been problematic for us. Our biggest challenge caught us by surprise with the unexpected but hoped for visit with Chelsea, my daughter, in Placencia, Belize. As I sat in the cockpit reading in the middle of the afternoon, a dinghy came towards our boat. It was the laughter that gave her away. She had creatively hitched a ride with one of our harbor neighbors. I was ecstatic! She had two traveling companions and after all of our exclamations, Dan, Chelsea and I gathered together our things and went to shore to meet up with them and share a meal. Home has always been a place where my kids could bring their friends and be welcomed. It’s different on a boat: comings and goings are intentional, space is limited, systems are unfamiliar to guests (operating the stove, for instance), and respect for one another is crucial. Things started deteriorating by day #2. The visiting group had their own agenda and being our “guests” was not their primary plan. Dan and I, in our effort to be a good host and hostess, initially tried to take the group out for meals and to shuttle them back and forth to the boat but as they very appropriately put it: it was like herding cats! They were unclear about their ongoing plans and with that indecision Dan and I were unable to make any plans for ourselves. One of Chelsea’s friends started acting out, conducting herself in town in a way that caused serious concern. This resulted in our need to have a heart to heart talk with her. Tension ran high and emotions were strong but we worked through it and in the end lessons were learned. Dan and I have different ways of dealing with these kinds of situations. We have different tolerance levels. We had stopped working together and our communication with one another was unclear. The frustrations we were individually feeling became projected onto each other. We now have taken the much-needed time to evaluate how we faired. It was tough. We struggled. We stopped seeing ourselves on the same team, which is unusual for us. What we learned (relearned) was, once again, the importance of communication. The greater the challenge, the more important clear communication becomes. We also learned the need to set clear guidelines and boundaries for all future boat guests. Past challenges did ultimately help us weather this storm. Even when things were at their worst we still had a sense that we would somehow get through this and that life’s natural buoyancy would lift us up which it has and we’re back on the same team.

Dan and I have not always reacted the same to the destinations we have chosen. Something would spark a connection for him in one place and I may be attracted to particular features of somewhere else. One thing that we agree on all the time is that we do not want to become colonialists.
Beachfront property is tempting because of its affordability and availability in many of the places we have visited. Stunning vistas and comfortable ocean breezes making the climate ideal are some of the attractive features that attract “foreigners” land buyers. Favorable currency rates make the deal all the more attractive. Meanwhile the native people are crowded in substandard housing frequently clumped together in the congested village. Placentia, our most recent port, has been a glaring example. The native people, who were primarily fishermen, are not living on the water. It is true that the colonialists have made some improvements that have benefited everyone but on a recent bike tour of the peninsula the FOR SALE signs line the roadways that are not already dotted with upscale houses. The exchange rate in Belize is 2 to 1. Every US dollar is worth two Belize dollars. Our intention when setting out on this journey was to meet and observe folks in other cultures and learn from their wisdom. It was not to take over their land and drive them out.
This is not a vacation, it is our life. We are learning and living as we as we process with each other on our journey through other cultures and foreign lands. These insights that

San Pedro to Placencia a string of islands – dan

We exited the reef at San Pedro and traveled “outside” until we reentered at English Cay. On our way a pod of about a dozen dolphins accompanied us. One dolphin is fun, two even more so, after that, as more dolphins join in it soon becomes a party. And that’s what seemed to be going on all around us as dolphins zipped back and forth vying for the coveted inside spot on our bow wave. Younger dolphins rode the stern wave. What joy!

Imagine a tropical island and then make it smaller, smaller again and then add a lighthouse, a few small buildings and you’ve got English Cay. We anchored in 9’ of water just west of the island and I swam ashore to meet the inhabitants. First I came to three boys in a small boat (actually it was a old jet ski with the top removed and a small outboard fitted to it’s reinforced transom). The boys were having an obvious good time fishing. They told me that they were spending their Easter vacation on the island. Next I came to what appeared to be the remains of several buildings under water. There were dozens of large sheets of corrugated tin, what may have been some old foundation posts and even some furniture. I figured that some unfortunate structures must have been blasted off the island some past tempest. Finally I came to shore and met the light keeper. He seemed to be as interested in me as I was in him. He told me he loved it on tiny island and the fishing was great.

Our next stop was Colson Cays just 14 miles away. We were now inside the barrier reef and we enjoyed great sailing; 15 nmp of wind with only slight (1’-2’) chop. It was like sailing on a lake and almost before we knew it we were at Colson. We anchored west of an uninhabited island in 10’ of water. The chart indicated that there were blue holes near this island so after snorkeling to check the anchor I headed off in search of my first blue hole. The holes, there were three near shore in about 4’ of water. It was spooky and thrilling to go from a comparatively shallow and bright area, over an underwater cliff, to a hole that was generally 20 deep, with even deeper sections where I couldn’t see bottom.

On the way back to Gypsy I enjoyed checking out the sea anemones and small tropical fish when I saw a large cloud of slit ahead of me and then to my surprise and awe six large leopard rays emerged from the cloud like improbably huge birds. They had all the grace of a troop of ballerinas as they glided silently through the water.

Back on Gypsy we took down our genoa and put up our # 3 jib in its place. We had noticed some loose seams and a worn spot on the sail that need the attention of a sailmaker. The smaller jib didn’t slow Gypsy down any. The next day we broad reached in 15 – 20 nmp of wind making 7 – 8.5 nmp of boat speed. We arrived at our next destination, Blue Ground Range, at noon and were soon greeted by Henry the self-described mayor of those islands.

Henry looked like such a good-natured wildman with his dread locks flowing, clad in only a pair of underware, that I immediately invited him onboard for beer and something to eat. He told us that he’d been living on his small island for the past 3 and a half years, fishing and looking after the place. Susan asked him where he gets his water to which he raised his hands, palm up, and said; God gives me all the water I need. He manages quite well by fishing, catching rain, growing a few vegetables and occasional trips to the mainland. Oh and he reads a lot. A real-life Belizean Thoreau.

We had dramatic skies and a few passing showers the day we sailed into Placencia harbor. Nothing off-putting. It was actually a relief from the strong sun and it gave us a chance to replenish our water. I have never had so many incredibly fine sailing days in a row. The barrier reef kept the seas down and 15 – 18 nmp wind out of the east meant smooth sailing with Gypsy making an easy 7 nmp to Placencia. We had a lone dolphin join us for a brief time. Unusual to see one alone.

We anchored in 23’ of water just off the town. With only a dozen boats at anchor the harbor wasn’t at all crowded. We had plenty of room to let out 125’ of chain that should assure good holding. The town looks small enough to be quaint, large enough to be interesting and remote enough to have its own personality. We’ve got a long to-do list including; sail repair, minor electrical work, a leak in the dink, some changes to the running rigging and Gypsy needs a good cleaning. This looks like a good place to catch up on those chores and hopefully have a good time while we’re at it…

Easter 2010 susan

I was completely unprepared for the feeling of sadness that had come over me. We are sailing in a natural paradise, the wind carrying us along with its gentle power. We had tried to connect with my daughter but our missed connections and the poor holding in San Pedro propelled us on our path South. A year ago, anticipating our fall departure, many friends and family joined us for Easter dinner. My house really could not accommodate the numbers, but card tables and missed matched china did not dampen the good time we all seemed to have. I attribute my Roman Catholic upbringing to my fondness for Easter. As a small child I remember the excitement of getting a new dress and patent leather shoes and hoping that in the hills of Western New York it would not snow; not for that special day, not so that I would have to wear boots and a snowsuit to church. There were plenty of times that it did snow on Easter…

After I had begun to receive the sacraments, I faithfully attended Mass every day during Lent; how else could I assure myself I would get to heaven? Holy Week was the climax to that time of reflection and penance and Easter Sunday was the long awaited example of hope and future. The years eroded my adherence to the dogma of the Catholic Church but I continued to search. For several years I trekked to Mount Savior Monastery in Elmira, New York for the Easter service. At 4 or so in the morning the congregation gathered in the lower level of the chapel where the service took on the representation of going to the tomb and in the darkness the monks filled the entire space with the vibrations of Gregorian chants. We processioned to the chapel in the round and at the end of the service the sun surrounded us. Piped-in trumpet music joyfully sounded over the grounds as participants were invited to join the monks for breakfast in the dining hall.

My family always gathered for Easter. In my younger years my paternal grandmother brought us all together – and with her 9 children, there was always a houseful; lots of laughs and later in the day, singing around the piano – my mother played. We may not have been good singers but we were enthusiastic! When I had my own family my parents would usually come to Connecticut for Easter. One year I especially remember: it was an early Easter and Chelsea, my daughter, orchestrated the funeral for our pet dog that had died. The grave was dug and hymns and flowers were arranged. Chelsea led us with great devotion, wearing her mantilla and reading prayers she had chosen from the bible. I read the expression on my devoutly religious mother’s face: she was unsure if it was “proper” to be honoring our dog in this was but in the spirit of the family she did participate.

In recent years as our lives changed I continued to have a need to bring friends and family together for “community” at this holiday time. Easter egg hunts were always part of the day for my kids. It was a sweet transition to watch the next generation become the organizers of the event for the neighbor kids and for our cousins Laura and Caroline. It was always fun to watch the adults as well as the kids during the hunt. Some could not hold their own excitement when seeing an evasive egg and the antics for directing one of the kids to also discover the errant treasure created much laughter and excitement.
Bringing up these memories in my mind allowed me to smile and regard those times with pleasure and joy. Dan and I had a “special” strudel for breakfast on Easter morning and later in the day we called friends and family to share the cheer. Easter 2010 will go into my memory bank and I suspect one day I will recall this special way we celebrated.

San Pedro, Belize – dan

There are three main streets that run the length of San Pedro; Front Street, Middle Street and Back Street. Very straightforward and easy to understand, just like the place. It’s a beautiful little town located on Ambergrise Cay and just like the cay that it’s located on, it’s long & narrow, surrounded by water. It’s a small fishing village turned downscale resort, diving destination and party town that lies just within the northern end of Belize’s barrier reef.

It’s a place where one can enjoy numerous water sports, stroll the town and the beach, eat at any one of dozens of interesting restaurants of just kick back and enjoy a beer by the sea. It’s also a place that growing like mad with numerous real-estate offices offering lots of waterfront property that you don’t have to be a millionaire to afford. We took our bikes ashore one day and rode a long ways down the island and got a good feel for the place. We could see the evidence of past real estate booms and busts. Some of the remote areas of town are very improvised.

We spent a whole morning snorkeling around the boat, probing the shallow sand bottom, in search of decent spots for the anchors. Then we snorkeled the entrance cut, which turned out to be both beautiful and fascinating. The beauty was in the coral and fish and the fascination came from evidence of a couple of wrecks. We saw an old mast, which must have been a hundred years old there was so much coral growing on and around it. Then we came to a spooky hull of a modern sailboat just outside of the reef. A grim reminder of the consequences of making a mistake in such a place.

Who can resist a police station with a cute little front porch and a barbeque out front?

The beach is where it’s all happening in San Pedro. The reef keeps the shore as tranquil as any lagoon. One can stroll the length of the beach unobstructed and take in all the shops, restaurants and bars. Selecting just the right one to fit your mood or fancy. We’ve been enjoying beers by the beach at sunset and Cuba Libras on the boat as the moon rises out of the sea.

As nice as San Pedro is we plan on starting our slow transit of the cays in the next few days. It will most probably be a string of uninhabited for us until we reach Placencia in about three weeks time. Until then we don’t expect to be getting any Internet. So until then good readers, take time out to enjoy life and give your sweetie a hug and a kiss when you can.