Gualby and Salty Dog left the Rio Dulce on June 2nd. We spent the night in Texan Bay on our way out of the river because it is the closest, and safest, spot to Livinsgston, where we needed to check out the next morning.
We pulled into the calm, quiet bay and whispered to each other as we assembled the boats in the classic voltran formation. We had some last Quetzales to burn before we left Guatemala and what better place to spend them then at the bar/restaurant? We paddled in and enjoyed our last dinner in Guatemala. Chicken fried steak, a traditional Guatemalan farewell dish? Not exactly but it was the special of the night and considering the owner was actually from Texas we figured it was a pretty safe bet at this Guatemalan restaurant. To the dismay of my southern company at the table, this was my first time having chicken fried steak and although it was delicious, I was surprised that it wasn’t chicken.
After dinner we had the pleasure of joining Mike, the owner, and his friends at their table. Mike, a boisterous, easy to smile Texan who had no short supply of hilarious stories built the Texan Bay Marina several years ago. The décor tacked up on the walls of his restaurant included two, at least twelve feet long snake skins, a large antlered deer skull, and an unidentifiable spotted cat. He explained that all these decorations were provided by the men from the village that surrounds the marina. Mike made it clear, though, that even though he did not kill the animals portrayed on the walls, he does have a gun and has shot at people trespassing on his property. Mike was a cowboy in every sense of the word. When we told him about our attempted burglary and how we saw the same boat a few days later he warned us, “Don’t be startin’ anything you ain’t ready to finish ’round here.” I was suddenly very glad we didnt "start nothin." I was interrupted from my "what could have been" thoughts as Mike started into another entertaining tale and a rolled up paper of Mexican Mafia’s finest was passed around. Our stories and laughter echoed into the warm Guatemalan night.
The night and the stories started to wind down so we headed back to the boat with full bellies and an excitement for the next day. I always feel like a little kid with Christmas right around the corner or something when we start to get ready to head to a new country. The excitement and anticipation for what we will discover and experience in the next country gets me and Conor both up early and eager to pull anchor. Well, only one us actually pulls the anchor but regardless, we are both up.
We rose with the sun the next day and quietly put our canoe back in the water to not wake up our Voltran formation partners on the Salty Dog, and headed out with the pups for a quiet morning canoe ride. We took in our last Guatemalan jungle surroundings while we gently paddled through winding canals and mangrove branches that were trying their best to reach the water.
M.
We pulled into the calm, quiet bay and whispered to each other as we assembled the boats in the classic voltran formation. We had some last Quetzales to burn before we left Guatemala and what better place to spend them then at the bar/restaurant? We paddled in and enjoyed our last dinner in Guatemala. Chicken fried steak, a traditional Guatemalan farewell dish? Not exactly but it was the special of the night and considering the owner was actually from Texas we figured it was a pretty safe bet at this Guatemalan restaurant. To the dismay of my southern company at the table, this was my first time having chicken fried steak and although it was delicious, I was surprised that it wasn’t chicken.
After dinner we had the pleasure of joining Mike, the owner, and his friends at their table. Mike, a boisterous, easy to smile Texan who had no short supply of hilarious stories built the Texan Bay Marina several years ago. The décor tacked up on the walls of his restaurant included two, at least twelve feet long snake skins, a large antlered deer skull, and an unidentifiable spotted cat. He explained that all these decorations were provided by the men from the village that surrounds the marina. Mike made it clear, though, that even though he did not kill the animals portrayed on the walls, he does have a gun and has shot at people trespassing on his property. Mike was a cowboy in every sense of the word. When we told him about our attempted burglary and how we saw the same boat a few days later he warned us, “Don’t be startin’ anything you ain’t ready to finish ’round here.” I was suddenly very glad we didnt "start nothin." I was interrupted from my "what could have been" thoughts as Mike started into another entertaining tale and a rolled up paper of Mexican Mafia’s finest was passed around. Our stories and laughter echoed into the warm Guatemalan night.
The night and the stories started to wind down so we headed back to the boat with full bellies and an excitement for the next day. I always feel like a little kid with Christmas right around the corner or something when we start to get ready to head to a new country. The excitement and anticipation for what we will discover and experience in the next country gets me and Conor both up early and eager to pull anchor. Well, only one us actually pulls the anchor but regardless, we are both up.
We rose with the sun the next day and quietly put our canoe back in the water to not wake up our Voltran formation partners on the Salty Dog, and headed out with the pups for a quiet morning canoe ride. We took in our last Guatemalan jungle surroundings while we gently paddled through winding canals and mangrove branches that were trying their best to reach the water.
M.
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| Bubby checking out the Texan Bay surroundings |
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