Lobsters and Good Friends

I've had this vision since we started this trip of sitting out in the cockpit at some lovely anchorage and having a fisherman paddle up wanting to sell us fresh lobster. And timed perfectly for our friend Matt's arrival, that dream finally came true.

We bought 10 lobster for $20, cooked them up (which maybe one day I will explain further. Maybe.), stuck them on ice in the freezer and went to get Matt from the airport. We got to share the lobster and Matt's musical talents with this amazing cruising couple that Vlad and I met way back in Isla Mujeres. They gave us some great suggestions on places to take Matt for the week, and we hope he continues to look just like this for the rest of the trip.

The Eel and Other Stories

I promise that I won't dwell too long on the past, but I just had to relate a few more Providencia moments before we move on to Panama. 

Attack of the Eel

We went for a nice snorkel with some lovely fellow cruisers that we’d met in Roatan. The coral was gorgeous, and I was swimming along, diving down to watch the sea fans wave in the currents and chasing fish through the coral canyons when I spied him (or her, I guess) - the green eel with his head poking outside his lair, a grumpy expression on his face and a row of sharp, nasty looking teeth visible through his barely open mouth. I thought, oh, cool, an eel. I’ve got to show Vlad. 

Right then, a wave pushed me just a smidge too close to the eel and his nice, cozy hole in the coral and rocks. The eel looked even grumpier. At this point, I was too close - too close to the eel, too close to his eel hole - and no one, I mean no one, was happy. There wasn’t enough space to swim over him, and if I turned around and swam away the eel would have gotten a flipper in the face, which might have soured his mood even further. So I tried to swim backwards, my arms flapping like a freaked out chicken. I actually gave myself a charlie horse from trying to propel myself backwards away from the increasingly pissed off eel. That was when Vlad grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the eel and what must have been the greatest coral hole ever judging by the eel’s protective and, I thought, over the top attitude, and Vlad proceeded to tell me that I should really pay attention to this whole eel business because they are very territorial. I think I’ve got that pretty well figured out. 

Dinner with Friends 

Introducing Leonardo and Livingston

Leonardo and Livingston, the greatest moto-taxi drivers in existence, invited us to Leonardo’s house for Sunday lunch, where we had crab, salad, coconut rice and homemade island bread, which is like typical bread except with fresh squeezed coconut milk instead of water. The coconut rice is made in the same way, substituting coconut milk for plain water.

Leonardo's wife and super cute daughter

It was an amazing lunch, and we loved meeting Leonardo’s wife Candy and their two kiddos. They showed us all the different fruit trees in their yard: three types of mango trees, a tamarind tree, a sour sap fruit tree (makes great juice!), a guava tree, a papaya tree, coconut trees, a type of plum tree, a plantain tree, a banana tree, some other type of weird banana tree and finally the stinky too tree, which has a strange, giant bean that they break open and eat. Vlad surmises that the reason they call it stinky too is that someone tried it and said, “Wow, this tastes bad,” and his friend replied, “Yeah, and it’s stinky too.” It must be one of those acquired things. 

Stinky too aside, the fruit was delicious. I’m pretty sure you could eat something off of every tree in their yard, and they gave us samples of all of it plus two giant bags of sour sap fruit and tamarind. If you ever go to Providencia, you couldn't pick better people to show you around town. Just ask for them in the town square. Trust me, everyone knows everyone on this island. Or e-mail me for Leonardo's phone number. 

We Climbed the Peak!

Why is it that whenever people get around a something tall they want to climb up it? It's one of those facets of human nature that I both don't understand and yet feel compelled to do, so, of course, we hiked up to the top of Providencia highest mountain, called the Peak (I’m guessing it should be capitalized). The walk took us through layers of forest, from meadows and stands of palms to rainforest and to finally what seemed like an arid jungle near the summit. And you’ll never guess what? Different types of lizards lived in each area. I’ve never been in a place where so much life scattered before my every step. Brilliant blue and green lizards, tiny cream-colored anoles, and giant blue land crabs (The crabs only come out at night, and the clattering of their legs and claws sounds remarkably like those beetle creatures in the Dark Crystal.) 

This tree's roots were the trail.

And not only did we scavenge more mangos for my now customary morning mango and yogurt smoothie, but I also got the pleasure of being bitten by those horrid arboreal ants, whose bite is like getting stabbed with a hot needle. Repeatedly. Evidently, they only live on this equally unpleasant tree that is covered with spikes. A fitting symbiosis, if you ask me.  

Ants aside, the view was outstanding and the mango smoothie delicious. 

Impressions of Providencia

I know I say this about every place we go, but I really mean it this time. Providencia is the best spot we’ve been to so far. One of the locals we’ve met describes it as the place you stop right before you go to heaven. He also told us that the only real problem they have here are scooter accidents. That’s it. No crime, nothing. Just scooter wrecks, which are absolutely awful, but imagine living in a place where the only real social ill was people on motorbikes. 

One woman - who owns this little restaurant in Santa Isabel, the main town - asked us where we were from, and I replied, “The United States.” And she said in this melodic Caribbean accent, “Ooooh, stress.” But c’mon, anywhere would be stressful compared to this place, where mangos litter the ground (there are too many to eat) and schools of spotted rays do laps with swimmers in the shallow bay and little kids play in secluded ocean coves in the afternoon, diving for Henry Morgan’s pirate treasure and eating fresh coconut.  

Providencia is a 4-mile-long island about 150 miles from Nicaragua. The island is a petit mixture of jungle, mountains, beaches and reefs, pretty much everything you could ask for in a tropical paradise. It has around 5,000 inhabitants and is officially a part of Colombia, though geographically and culturally the two places are incredibly different. 

The language spoken here is this fascinating mixture of Creole English, English and Spanish. Most people seem to speak all three seamlessly and can switch among them almost mid-sentence. My favorite is the Creole, though Vlad and I are totally lost in both amazement and understanding when we hear people speak it. Their word for “octopus” is “sea cat.” How cool is that?!

As for the climate, I had always assumed that the closer you got to the equator the higher the temperature climbed, but that does not appear to be the case. Actually, the farther away from Texas we’ve traveled the nicer the climate has become. And then we came to Providencia. It’s a pleasant 85 degrees with a nice, cool wind blowing through the boat. We don’t even turn the fans on anymore!! And it’s not humid. All of our clothes dry. We hardly even sweat. On top of that, there are no mosquitos and no no-see-ums. All my weird bug bites are starting to heal. Vlad’s heat rash is beginning to dissipate. This is truly paradise. 

Surprisingly, tourism isn’t overdone here, so we aren’t constantly hounded by people trying to sell us snorkeling trips or shells with our names engraved on them. And what that means is that we’ve actually met people. Genuine people, who live on this island. In fact, we’ve been invited to crash a wedding and to attend the children’s swimming competition this evening. On an island with a population not much larger that my hometown of Yellville, Arkansas, we are double booked.

About the only bad thing I can say about Providencia is that there’s too much fish stew. Actually, I’m pleased with this development, but Vlad’s not happy about the stew situation, fish hater that he is. And we ran into some vicious arboreal ants that attacked us without mercy - proof that even in heaven something bites. 

Pictures of Providencia

Isla Providencia is hands down the best place we've been so far. I'll give more details about the island soon but for now here are some photos.

And we finally met the mango man. We wondered why they didn't have mangos in the store here, but now we know that you couldn't sell them if you tried. Every other person we see has a handful of mangos or is peeling a mango or is biting into the bright orange fruit. Still, it's not every day that someone offers you something so delicious just because they're being nice. And now we have fresh mangos for our fish tacos tonight!

Off the Coast of Nicaragua: Part Two

Here come the Coast Guard. Off the coast of Nicaragua. 

We left Roatan when we did solely because of the weather. The easterly trade winds were going to be quiet for three more days, giving us enough time to round the point and start heading south. After that, the wind would get back to its normal routine of blowing 15 to 25 knots due east. Our plan worked quite well. We rounded the point, turned off the engine and sailed with a decent amount of wind most of the way to Providencia. With that wind, however, we also got to experience some big ocean swells, and the worst night was on Saturday with waves of about eight to ten feet. One of those waves literally knocked me out of bed while I was sleeping. I hit the cabin floor directly on my left elbow and had two thoughts simultaneously. One was: Wow, I hope I didn’t break my elbow. And the other was: I’m really stupid for not putting that lee cloth up like I said I would after practicing my gecko sleeping technique across the entire the Gulf of Mexico.

My third thought was: Who breaks their elbow falling out of bed? That’s just ridiculous. And yet that wasn’t as strange as what happened to us a few hours later. We were boarded by the U.S. Coast Guard in international waters off the coast of Nicaragua. For a safety inspection. 

Vlad and I have talked extensively about how much we like the Coast Guard, especially after we saw them get into a water cannon fight with the sunset cruise ships in Key West (the coasties won, obviously). What other group of government officials is concerned about your individual safety and wellbeing, will do everything they can to rescue you, risking their own lives in the process, and will have a water cannon fight with tourists? You don’t see the guys from Customs doing that. 

But we were surprised to see a massive military ship cruising by us at 5:30 on Sunday morning, and then, as per Vlad’s prediction at 6:00 a.m., we got a radio call from the vessel saying that they wanted to board us. At that point, we didn’t know it was the Coast Guard, and what with the ginormous navy boat circling us we were not sure what to expect. We’d heard horror stories about Homeland Security people tossing boats, taking everything out of lockers and basically trashing the place, which sounded like a special kind of hell after six days on the ocean and in six to eight-foot swells. 

So we were pleasantly surprised when we realized it was the Coast Guard. About six officers came up on a small motor boat, somewhat like a souped up dinghy, and two of them came aboard despite the waves. They did a routine safety inspection (we passed!!), and we got to hang out and chat with them for a while. Evidently, they are assigned to a British Navy boat and had been out for two months patrolling these waters for drug runners. We were the third boat they had seen the entire two months, which must get kind of boring after a while. It also might explain why they were having a mustache growing competition. 

Aren't they adorable?

I can’t tell you how surreal it is to be in the middle of nowhere, more than a thousand miles from the U.S., and have the Coast Guard board your boat. The best way I can describe it is comforting. Sure, it slowed us down (yes, it’s shocking that we could go any slower), but it’s kind of a relief to know that the Coast Guard has your back even when you’re long way from home. They told us if we ever ran into any trouble - pirates of the Caribbean, etc. - all we had to do was get on channel 16 and they or the Navy would come find us. 

And if any of you Coast Guard officers who boarded us are reading this, happy Fourth of July! Come have a green chili cheese burger with us because I promise we will be better company than the Brits on this particular American holiday. No offense to the British, of course.

Also, in case anyone is concerned, my elbow is not broken. It swelled up, and I didn't have full range of motion. However, it has almost completely healed in the past three days. According to Vlad, I just bruised the bursa, the synovial fluid sack that encapsulates the joint. Whatever the case, I’m putting up a lee cloth before we leave Providencia. 

Weather to Go, Weather to Stay

A screenshot of Weather Guru

We finally got checked out of Mexico, but you'll never guess what? We are still in Puerto Morelos! At this point, we might as well resign ourselves to opening up a palapa bar and living here forever, making periodic trips to Cancun so that Mexican officials can continue stamping our paperwork. Vlad has even invented a new version of "Hotel California" that goes a little something like this: "Welcome to the town of Puerto Morelos ... you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave." (Actually, you can't check out any time you like, or we would have been in Honduras already!)

So what's our hold up? The weather, plain and simple. We are serious weather weenies and really don't enjoy going out in heavy seas and high winds. After three days of waiting for the weather to change, conditions are decent currently, but over the weekend and down the coast the winds get higher again and, more importantly, the wave height gets up to between two and three meters, coming right on our beam, a recipe for one of my vomiting and sweating episodes and not great for Bettie either.

Neither one of us has experienced nine-foot seas, nor are we particularly keen to do so. Therefore, we have decided to once again be illegal aliens in Mexico until Sunday when we can make a mad dash to  Roatan, one of the Bay Islands off the coast of Honduras.

Plus, my mom had some excellent advice when I asked her opinion on whether we should stay or leave. She said, "Why would you willingly go out when you know the weather is bad. You'll have plenty of opportunities to experience bad weather even with a good forecast." You might not be able to trust the weatherman, but they say moms are always right.

If any of you are interested, here's a list of weather sites we use.

• Passage Weather - Note: This site lists the wave height in meters, not feet. Before I knew that little detail, I kept wondering why everyone was in such a tizzy. I mean, the winds were 20 to 25 with gusts to 30 - which is on the high side but nothing that couldn't be handled with a reefed main and jib - and the seas were only two to three feet. Oh, wait, that says meters. Doh!
• Wind Guru
• NOAA
• Then, there is Chris Parker, who gives the weather in the morning over the SSB. He also does custom passage reports for a fee. Here are the stations and times:
  
  Caribbean Weather Network
  6:30 4045
  7:00 8137
  8:00 4045 (Bahamas)
  8:30 8104 (Caribbean)
  9:15 12350
  9:30 6221 and 16531

Please let us know if we are missing any good ones. 

Adios, Mexico

Bettie looking fly on the mooring ball.

We've had an amazing time in Mexico, and we really don't want to leave, especially the little town we've been in for the past few days. Puerto Morelos has given us a much needed break from the hustle and flow of Cancun and Isla Mujeres, and though a sleepy little place it has been strangely entertaining. There is great snorkeling within an easy swim of the beach where we saw four barracuda, two of which were as long as I am tall! There was the fiesta on Sunday evening that the entire town attended, which included live music and a game that involved kids climbing over each other like spider monkeys to reach the top of this two and a half story pole someone had setup in the water, and the ever present spectacle of people just throwing themselves off the municipal pier with all their clothes on. Why do they do that? We have no idea. We can only speculate that the pier has a magical draw that compels you to fling yourself off of it.  So far, I refuse to step foot on it, but Vlad says he's going to follow the town tradition before we leave.

A rousing game of soccer volleyball.

La Fiesta. See all the people in the water and the pole?

We have also seen a catamaran full of naked, dancing Europeans. Well, the women were topless, but the men were completely naked, just standing around sipping on mixed drinks. Then, they started a conga line. I am not kidding. The funniest part about all this (besides the conga line) was that they were sailing back and forth in front of the pier during a town boat parade that included the Mexican navy and fishing boats decked out with flags, and no one even noticed. Seriously, we love this place.

Oh, I almost forgot the most important thing. If you are ever in Tulum, and you see an older gentleman selling paletas, which are kind of like fruit popsicles, stop everything you are doing and buy one. Take it from me. We were eating bananas and drinking water after a long walk in the heat, and we saw this man selling what appeared to be homemade popsicles out of a styrofoam tub that he pushed around in a handcart. I got a coconut one, and it was quite possibly the best thing I've ever tasted - completely fresh, filled with chunks of coconut, just the right touch of sweetness and perfectly, divinely cold, the kind of thing you get in a gourmet restaurant. 

Bananas and popsicles. Does it get any better?

Still, we have to get going. Perhaps I'm speaking too soon, but I think we might be able to check out today. We have come to love dealing with Mexican officials. We say we'd like to leave early in the morning, and they say we'll be at your boat by 11. Then, you have to pay us, but to do that you need to go to the bank in Cancun. They already sent us to the airport in Cancun to meet with immigration. The lady at immigration looked at our passports and documents in total confusion, and then, after much conferring with her boss, gave us a number for the port captain to call. So basically we went to the airport in Cancun, which is 32 kilometers away, for a phone number that, as it turns out, no one answers. Thankfully, the port captain in Puerto Morelos is so ridiculously nice that we've been kind of hypnotized by his demeanor, making it really difficult to get mad about all the bureaucratic hoops. He even made a copy for us. For free.

Tulum

To get into the fortified Mayan city of Tulum, we first had to walk down a jungle path that was dark, closed in on all sides by thick vegetation and steamy (and chock full of iguanas!), so when we walked through a tiny opening in the rock wall into this open, clear, perfectly manicured vista of crumbling Mayan temples and buildings it took my breath away.

Here are a couple of interesting points about Mayan ruins. They are essentially giant clocks, which is pretty wild when you think of it. The ruins in Tulum marked specific points in the calender - like the vernal equinox - and every year at an exact time the sun would shine on certain spots, marking the longest day or the shortest or the midpoints in between. 

Also, Tulum, being by the ocean, was a large trading port, and in addition to being devoted to your typical deities Tulum had a special spot in its heart for the god of trade. I loved this concept. Most groups of people seem to pick their gods based on their abilities to throw thunderbolts or smite their enemies, but the Mayans went all business school on them. All I could think of were thousands and thousands of people bowing down before a giant statue with Alan Greenspan's face on it.

Ok, so that guy doesn't look like Greenspan.

And more lizards!

We had planned on stopping by Tulum via the boat on our way out of the country but decided to travel from Puerto Morelos by bus instead, since we're pretty sure we never want to leave this town. We've even moved on to one of the free (we're assuming here) mooring balls. That's how serious it is.

Puerto Morelos

 We are really liking Puerto Morelos. This might just be because we've only been to incredibly touristy places like Key West and Isla that are bustling and packed with people on scooters, bicycles and golf carts all vying to run you over. We also loved both those places, but compared to all that hubbub, Puerto Morelos is downright sleepy. Tranquilo, you might say. There are a few scattered tourists, a nice little plaza and some reasonably priced taco spots near the beach. We've been digging it. Plus, we get to row to shore, which I love, except when Vlad forgets his wallet.

The one downside to Puerto Morelos is the lack of iguanas. Sure, they're there, but not in the numbers we're used to and nowhere close to Isla. Vlad has this disturbing theory about the dearth of iguanas. He thinks that people here eat them. Then, he tells me that he has eaten iguana and that it's delicious. Now every time we pass by a decent sized iguana basking blithely on someone's patio, he says something like, "Oh, look at the tail on that one. We could really grill that up." Sick, I tell you.

 

I love the fact that we found this shack being eaten by the jungle right behind a row of fancy houses. This place kind of reminds me of Arkansas with palm trees. It's incredibly lush and green and if you leave something for five minutes it gets covered in sticker bushes.

Why We Love Mexico

Because it's full of color. Because no one is up your butt about dinghy lights or flares. Because siesta is the best concept under the planet. Because it is laid back, chill and there's always mañana. Because there are beaches and clear, turquoise water. Because iguanas fall out of trees. Because it has signs that say "A los pescadores prohibido andar en el area en ropa interior," which loosely translated says "Hey, fishermen, don't come in here wearing only your underpants." Because the people are beautiful and friendly. Because cheap beer and tacos abound, our favorite!

So there might be some burdensome paperwork, but it can't be worse than entering the U.S. as a foreigner these days. And Vlad tells me that there's good dose of corruption, bribery and extreme poverty, too. Nevertheless, the Yucatan has been a joy to explore, and I only wish we could do more of it. So in honor of Isla Mujeres, where we've spent the past week, here's a little photo spread.

Artsy iguana!