|Our companions on the way|
to Barra de Navidad
"Only two sailors, in my experience, never ran aground. One never left port and the other was an atrocious liar." -Don Bamford
|Inching our way into the channel|
Until we went aground.
|See? Not so bad...|
Don't worry, we recovered nicely with a beer in hand, accompanied by chirping birds and a rainbow. After all, what's a little mud and a touch of mierda. This is living!
The next day was more mundane. The morning's highlight was the French Baker's panga making rounds in the anchorage. The French half in me was utterly delighted. (Who am I kidding, the Dutch half was just as thrilled!) Later, we took a water taxi to town (it would have been a long row), lugging dirty laundry, our boat papers, and garbage. Once we dropped off the various items and visited the port captain, we wandered around town. And around, and around. We accumulated many miles underfoot. We finally decided on sitting down in the shade and feed our hungry bellies. Digesting our late lunch, we sat on a stone wall watching friendly Mexican guys hand-casting for fish on the beach. A few more errands later, we headed back to the anchorage in the dark.
|Delicious goodness: Fresh mango, a|
baguette and goat cheese
|Midday heat, in the plaza|
|I loved that tree! |
(And that's only half of the tree)
|Giving our feet a rest|
|Fishing, the simple way|
Tomorrow, we face that channel once again. No big deal, right?