Conor, in all his Captain wisdom and responsibility, is in the town of Livingston checking us out of the country and I am moved to a quiet moment of reflection of our time spent in Guatemala during my last hours:
The bug situation really wasn’t that bad--a few little guys would come in at night if you left the lights on in the salon but that’s about it. A remarkably large amount of time spent here was “bug free,“ which was a very pleasant surprise.
Its not that hot. It’s not cold but again, not as bad as we had thought it would be. The mornings around 11:00 or so felt the hottest to me. The early mornings were cool and by around one in the afternoon the breeze picked up and cooled everything off, and it kept up through most of the night. If we were getting too, uh, sticky and stinky, we just jumped in the river. Which leads me to my next thought
The Rio Dulce is contaminated by the run off from the town of Fronteras. It is used as their waste receptacle and sewage system, although the locals still swim and do their laundry in this same river. We were moored in an area upstream of the town therefore, allegedly, it was safe for us to swim. That being said the afternoon winds (which we loved when they arrived) in combination with tidal changes, pushed at least the top layer of the water up the river, ergo, towards our boat. This did not seem to bother Conor, Penny, and all of the guest at Tortugal from enjoying the swim platform in the afternoons; but I usually kept my cool off, fresh water swims to when the river was flowing in the correct direction. In all reality this water is probably cleaner than the water I use to go snorkeling in almost daily during lobster season in Key West. The best honey holes were right by our mooring field in Key West, where I don’t even want to think about the amount of boats that are moored there without a proper pump out situation, but I guess it was a mental/visual thing for me.
There are lots of cruisers here. People say the Rio Dulce is the river that eats Gringos and I believe it now. Although 99% of the people we met could have been our parents, they were for the most part friendly and informative. We learned from almost everyone that took the time to talk to us. The farther we get from the United States, the more well traveled people we meet. Most everyone has a tip or two that we take with gratitude and appreciation. I thoroughly enjoy learning from people who have been there and done it rather than people who just have opinions because they are older than me. Almost everyone we met had crazy interesting stories, been in worse weather and traveled to more exotic places than us, and they were happy to share their tales and their time. However, In every place we have stopped, we always get at least one comment from an older cruiser that is dripping with malice and suspicion that we are a bit, uh young, to be retired and traveling. They look at Conor and me trying to figure out if we are trust fund babies or if we are crew on another boat in the marina or driving Daddy’s boat on his dime. We humbly explain our story with a smile and point our boat out, with the beat up canoes, semi clean laundry hanging on the life lines, and the mangy looking dogs roaming the deck that has hatches closed with duck tape and their disapproving glare lessens a little and I can tell they feel a little more justified at waiting till they were old and jaded before leaving on their own sailboat. Grumpy people are everywhere I guess.
The local people, in general, are incredibly friendly and genuinely kind. They smile at you in the street and wave at you from their dug out canoes. They ladies in the markets looked kindly at me as I struggled with my Spanish and were patient and spoke slow in return. Yes, we did have an attempted burglary while we were there that Pen-Dog spoiled but this is also a very poor country and I understand that desperate circumstances produce desperate men who can justify stealing from “rich gringos.” We still owe Penny that steak dinner we promised her.
The country is beautiful and for the first time of the trip, I felt having the dogs was holding us back a little. Of course, they (Well, not so much Bubby) proved their worth while we were there also. We took one day inland trip while we were there and the countryside was lush and green, a mixture of jungle and farm land. I think we may have missed out on a few potentially cool inland trips because we couldn’t leave the dogs overnight and it was difficulty and unsafe to rent a car but such is life.
So, Overall impression of the Rio Dulce: Pleasantly surprised, and I had high expectations.
M.
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| View of Gualby and Salty Dog from the top of the bridge |
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| Exiting The Gorge |
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| I have about thirty of these shots. Conor and I were headed home one night without a flashlight so I took the camera and held the flash against the white of the canoe so we could be visible to other boats. I thought it was a genius idea, but I was also the one that forgot the flashlight |
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| Fresh watermelon and an enormous bean pod type fruit. The sweet, edible part is the white membrane looking stuff. I was glad the fruit vendor showed us what to eat because I probably would have thrown the white part out. |
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| The open air, thatched roof huts that line the river waterfront |
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