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Well sitting in an airport again and waiting. There was chaos at the security check in as they had a new toy to play with, a drug and explosive sniffer but you had to wear your shoes through this one then take them off. Of course, we sheep are now conditioned to remove our shoes so everybody was retrieving shoes from the boxes on their way through the xray machine then by the time they had gone through the sniffer their boxes had gone. The security people were getting a little hoarse but we sheep just looked puzzled and were eventually herded to the next holding pen.

The Bombay is ready to go on it's mooring in Chocolate Hole, St Johns and the sea trial is scheduled for Thursday. I am not sure if the surveyor will make it. I guess I will hear from him tonight.

I overdid things a bit yesterday. After a hectic morning at Tropical shipping loading the barrels with my stuff and sorting out the manifest I thought a swim would be a pleasant way of cooling off so I walked over to the beach to discover surf was up and an entrepreneur was renting out boogie boards and frog feet. After ½ an hour of mental fun I suddenly realized that I was so tired I could barely stand and stagger up the beach. This being 62 with a mental age of 13 is the pits.

Back to the USA

Back in the USA and heading for Miami. The trip from the Rio Dulce to Guatemala City involved a leg on a chicken bus.



I was expecting one of these and was looking forward to the ride.






Instead I got one of these, but it got me there albeit at considerable environmental cost to the atmosphere and some discomfort to my rear as the seats were plank wood and all vestige of springing or shock absorbing was long gone.

Then when I got to my hotel and logged on to print my ticket I had got moved to an earlier flight. They had warned me that this was possible. A 4.30 am start, is there such a time/



But the good news is that I have finally made up my mind on a boat, I think anyway, providing it passes the sea trial. The Bombay Explorer 44 which I had looked at before down in the BVI has finally been extracted from the back of the boatyard and splashed. I think I will be flying down to St Thomas on Thursday this week with hopes for a sea trial on Friday.

SEDUCED BY THE RIO DULCE

Well I am not going to buy this boat. There is just to much to do and the timeline for repairs, escaping from the river over the shallow bar and the necessity to be on my way to a safe area for the 2010 hurricane season does not make sense.







Not to mention the termite poo, apparently the black poo comes from drywood termites and the sawdusty stuff from the normal variety.















However this is a great area and I plan to come back for a visit on my forever boat at sometime in the future.





I can even visualise myself staying at Mango Marina with Lesbia cooking breakfast again and the resident white heron waiting on the next boat for a passing fish.






The wildlife is outstanding with manatee, plentiful fish including giant tarpon and these cute little finches that have taken up residence on the anchor rodes.

Delving into the bowels of Pacifico

The owners have suggested that I liveaboard Pacifico while checking here out. This makes it much easier as she is moored 2 miles by river from the nearest road.




I started by getting the, some what tired, dink in the water and fitting the outboard. Bob who is helping the owners sell Pacifico was directing operations and more in hope than expectation gave here a squeeze and a couple of pulls. It was a forlorn hope. The motor and fuel had been sitting in the hot sun for more than a year. But it is a Yamaha and it started second pull.


Lesbia seems to run the Marina and lives in the Palapa right in front of Pacifico. Nothing is too much trouble for her and her breakfasts are great!



The Rio Dulce is a special area and although there is real borderline subsistance fishing and gathering class here everyone I have met so far is friendly and helpful. Even the two couples sitting next to me in the restaurant who were from North London. Small world indeed.

The boat needs work and I suppose I have to decide how much I have to do before going sailing and how much can be an ongoing project. It really needs rewiring the aft cabin needs gutting and refitting from the fibreglass out as it has termites and some nasty chemicals which were used in an effort to kill the beasties.


Still there are worse places in the world to be stuck for a while.


Pictures of termite poo in the next blog!

Boat hunting on the Rio Dulce Guatemala

My hunt for the "right" boat has taken me to Mango Marina on the Rio Dulce.






To get here I flew into Guatemala City on Saturday November the 7th and stayed over night at the Torres Guest house, an OK if slightly run down place with one unusual feature not found in any guest house I have stayed before. The charming young man who carried my bags in sported a pump action pistol grip shotgun.

Armed guards were everywhere and the pump seems to be the weapon of choice.




Pretty scary when you go to the local version of Macdonalds and this guy is leaning against the wall. Hamburger bandits rule OK.

When I got the bus for the long trip down here I got my next surprise.


The bus which looked like a new [ish] coach on the internet was a really old Mercades that had many hard miles behind it and many holes in the bodywork. Yet more armed guards greeted me when I boarded the bus and I was efficiently searched my backpack opened and searched and a metal detector waved over me. The bus was driven by a very neatly dressed boy who did not look like he needed to shave yet. Still we got here and in reality despite the holes and rattles eveything vital seemed in excellent working order especially the horn. Oh yes all the safety searches were a waste of time as the bus picked up people all the way down at roadside stops without a guard in sight.

Guatemala, so far seems to be a beautiful country full of really helpful people and many of them carry guns!

Goodbye

We say goodbye to the Trek in the car park of Motel 6 in Orlando





as Gary and Melissa prepare to drive off in their new acquisition.

There were great moments in the last two years, the Alcan, wolves in Yellowstone, tranquility in the Teons and so many more.




But now the Caribbean beckons. So it is with little regret that I say goodbye to Orlando. My vision of hell includes in part the Bluewater shopping centre so International Drive Orlando which consists of many shopping centres stitched together with tawdry souvenir shops selling the same tat is hell squared.

I am down Fort Lauderdale after stashing our "stuff" in a storage unit. The boat show is on here but it is of little interest to me as it is mainly giant gin palaces aimed at the Berie Madoffs of this world.
However I can walk along the beach with Ferraris snarling past, grannies overtaking me on skateboards and a very swish couple with matching Yorkies jogging their way to lunch in Las Olas.

But I was on my way to slip F18 Bahia Mar Marina.








I paused for a moment to think on Travis Magee whose houseboat was moored here for years and Miss Agnes his 1936 bright blue Rolls Royce pickup truck. Both of course are creatures of fiction.




































But this is running around Florida somewhere.





On my way back I was held up by that east coast phenomenon, an Intercoastal Waterway Bridge which is raised by a demand from any passing sailboat I called for many bridge openings when I sailed Carpe Diem from Miami North to Washigton DC and was indifferent to the delays caused. Now it was my turn to be delayed.



So was this skater. Another Fort Lauderdale moment.