Not Worth Writing About

Jungle Clearing

Breakfast, blog, cleared about 300 feet of jungle knocking down substantial trees with my machete, the first few more difficult as there was little room to swing in a lattice comprised of branches intertwined with vines that yield rather than cleave from the blows. In such a mass it is impossible to obtain the correct angle on a swing and there is little room to do so. Felling the first tree it strained the vines and branches making them much easier to cut.

My roomies thanked me not for the wake up call but I'm not doing this in the heat of the day. Feel free to don some boots and give it a try, it's work.

Adding to the difficulty is the problem of standing on a wet steep slope while trying to watch underfoot for the very deadly fer-de-lance viper and making sure one doesn't grab a tree with a palm or eyelash viper, though I've never seen one at sea level, I know they are here. One must also avoid the bullet ants, the sting of single one which will put a person in agony for 24 hours.

By 8:30 I had cleared maybe 300 square feet of growth which was collapsed on the ground, downhill in a mass 10 feet high. Let it sit for a month, and then cut the new growth while hacking off the branches. Lying on the ground they will rot in a couple of months, I hope. Trying to clear them out would be a massive amount of work and counterproductive as the red clay soil needs all the nutrition it can get.

The technician from my Internet provider showed up in a 12 foot skiff and after dicking around finally switched me over to another carrier, now my internet connection is usable my bandwidth varies from one to one and half megabits per second, not near what I had back in Texas, but hey, there I didn't get to overlook the sea from my deck.

A run into town, dropping off the girls. 50 kilos weighs a lot more than it used to. I used to throw these bags around,now carrying one bag of fertilizer a  hundred yards and throwing on the boat is an effort. What part of stop smoking did I fail to understand? Checked my email. Damn, 10 PhD's can't figure out the implications of my proposal? Do I have to dumb this down? I'm just a jungle boy.

My right hand went numb.  Damn, too much impact with the machete I guess, self diagnosed temporary problem by caused by nerve trauma.  It cleared up in a couple of  hours and then came back.  Fuck getting old.

Minor Progress

I finally managed to complete what should be a trivial task, replacing a couple of switches for the living room.   What the hell is this?  18 Gauge wire on a 15 amp circuit?  I guess I'll add fire insurance to the list of things to do.

My electrical supplies from David came in; I'll have to open the bag to see if all the parts are what I ordered and need.

A couple of the ornamentals I planted, when was that, Sunday? are sprouting new buds.

Stopping by some neighbors to invite them over for dinner I was giving a gourd tree planting.  It looked like nothing more than a three foot long dowel with three dried leaves on it.  I was instructed to just push it into the ground.   Somehow I have my doubts this is going to be a success.

On Monday I made a trip to Mail Boxes, Etc. to inquire as to the status of my telescope, not that I will have much time for bird watching.   Friends have made four trips to MBE to inquire as to the status and never met with any answer.   I was asked the value of the item and was told it would be in Bocas on Wednesday or Thursday.   We shall see.

A Halloween Party?   How am I supposed to make a costume?  I have something like three pairs of pants and four shirts to my name.

On Monday I went to pay the Internet bill.  They told me the former owner of the house had closed the account.  I had been warned about how difficult it is to open an account. One has to bring in utility bills of course I have none, or get a signed letter from the corregedor, who functions much like a sheriff and get him to testify that I have a house, that I provide all my own utilities, etc.   It was but a five minute process to get the account entered in my name.   I came home to find the connection unusable most of the time.  I was told at the office yesterday that a technician knew where I live and would be there at 10 today to check on the orientation of the antennae.   I've covered that one before, it points directly at the antennae in Old Town, on Bastimentos through a large tree.   I have a clear shot to a communications tower across the way at Red Frog, I wonder what carriers use that?  Then a new dish, service application... nothing is easy.

I sought somebody to make me a desk suitable for work on my patio.  A woman told me who makes them, showed me hers, then asked if I wanted to buy it.  We agreed on a price and that I would pick it up today and then she said she had decided not to sell it.   That will just have to get moved down on the list.

Today

Ok, let's see if I can get the tires mounted on the dock, I have the tires and the rope.  Install a switch in my bedroom to get the lights working.  Shuffle some boats around to make sure they don't sink if my bilges fail for one of many reasons.    Hack some more in the jungle, man, that's hard work, warranting a full entry.   Shit, I was supposed to get back to a developer on some questions on one of the web sites I'm developing, but I can't do the research as my internet is so bad.  I'll just check off the refrigerator brush, it's never coming in, I'll stick with the home made one.  Such a small list for a day, but nothing is easy.

Will somebody in David bring back the bilge pump hose?  Three hardware stores and a marine store, all selling bilge pumps, none carry the hoses.  This is urgent and important, I can't put this off, the rains are coming.

Oh, here's my precision screwdriver set.  A girl in town asked if I could repair her MacBook, she had broken off a plug in the audio jack, the thing has to be taken apart.  I don't charge for these services, that only invites more of the same.   Sure, I have nothing else to do.  Hah!  Next time I'm in town, no, I won't make a house call to a third island and trek across the island to find you.  If you want some free service you have to get off your cute ass and meet me somewhere that it is semi-convenient for me.  Ok, in the backpack.

Let's see if I can get one gutter cleaned out.  What's that?  Damn dog, you just chewed up my work glove.  The dogs aren't allowed in any more, the dogs, that's another todo list and some history.  The sun is breaking, it looks like there is a good chance that today will have some good sun.  I'd rather be snorkeling.   Instead, I'll have quick breakfast, don some filthy clothes and spend a couple of hours hacking in the jungle while the girls sleep and I wait for the Internet service technician.

Home Repairs

Propane

The new tank of propane seems to burn much better than the old one. I suspect that there was oil in the tank, which I understand is not an uncommon condition. There is far too much oil for this to be attributed to compressors. Clyde, who purports to be a certified propane specialist has no idea how this much could get in. He has taken tanks apart and inspected them and found up to a quart of oil in the tanks. I guess I need to get a filter. The refrigerator has been running fine since I cleaned the flue, there was no carbon deposit on the baffle.

Composter

The sanitary composter is leaking. I'll need to have a drainage hose attached so that it doesn't constantly leak on to the slab and then down onto the soil beneath my house. It has also picked up a bit of a smell. Is it too wet? Should I be adding more wood chips? I don't know. A month in this house and I haven't filled the drum to capacity, with three adults, but two are only here half the time. Believe me, the dogs more than make up for two petite women.

Electrical

The kitchen ceiling fan is out, I think it's the switch. Next trip up I'll bring my volt ohm meter, which is in the bow hold of the boat. The living room light is out as is the light in my bedroom. I'll have to replace these dimmer switches with rocker switches. If one is using fluorescent bulbs a dimmer should generally not be used any without special bulbs. Of course, the switches are not available into town as I need double switches and don't have enough room to install another box.
Electrical outlets are needed on the porch and down the stairs and on the dock. I'm hoping the wire that came in is of the correct type. Ceiling fans and lights are needed on the deck.
Motion sensor lights light detecting flood lights to be installed on the boat house once I get the cable run. Trying to get off a boat and get my shit together with a flashlight on a moonless night is a pain.

Solar

I'm running the generator. It is charging my 24 volt system at 52.6 amps and is down 94 ampere hours so It will take a little over 90 minutes to charge to capacity. Someday I'll document solar powered systems, batteries and the like. On these cloudy days I've had to run it for an hour to an hour and a half twice a week. I'm sure it will get far worse in November, when the rain comes in earnest. I have to change the oil on the generator.

Internet

The internet went down Friday. Hopefully I just have to pay the bill. Let's see if I can catch them open, Panama Cable and Wireless does run some irregular hours.

Terraces

The terraces beneath my house are giving way, that should be a simple but labor intensive repair, involving a shovel, a sledge hammer, a drill, a hammer and some nails. What kind of wood should I use?

The steps in the soil under the house are giving way, I'll have to stake them and get new boards, a few steps are missing. How am I going to get this done in the rain?

Gardening

The bushes and ornamentals are overgrown, I've been trimming them back with my machete, the files and machetes always seem to end up on random places. I will have to terrace the yard, that's a lot of terrace work, big boards, a huge amount of shoveling and tons of file dirt to be brought over in 100 pound bags in a 40 foot dugout canoe and carried up the hundred steps, hundreds of times. Obviously I'll need to employ some help and stop smoking.

I picked up some ornamental plants from a neighbor, broke off the handle of the shovel on the first usage and started using a post hole digger. Where is my other glove? Where are my machetes and the file?

Jungle

Trails need weekly machete work and I have acres of underbrush to clear.


Hot Water Heater

The hot water heater is out in the bodega, doesn't provide adequate pressure, is intermittent and it takes too long to run water. I'll replace all of the 1/2” PVC with 3/4” and place a larger unit more centrally. Nothing like having a gas fired hot water heater mounted underneath a wooden house. I'll install some concrete boards, behind and over the unit, although no local would do so.

Stairs

Five years of neglect have taken a toll on the stairs, generally in good structural shape there is some fungal growth and mold. I've started the task of pressure washing, using an undersized hose and running off of electrical cords, my massive five gallon per minute 3,500 psi pressure washer in Southlake would do the job in a quarter of the time, but I sold it and lugging that thing up and down the stairs would be difficult. I'll have to run new conduit, electrical outlets and sill cocks. The pressure washer is not up to the task. It looks ok when first cleaned, but greys up in a hurry and it should be a rich dark shade of red.

Plumbing

I'll have to run new PVC from the water pump, under the house, down the stairs and to the dock. Half inch PVC is just not adequate for long runs.
A new water heater needs to be installed, I'll place it under the house rather than wait for the long run from the bodega.

Refinishing

The nispero wood on the outside of this house and the needs to be sanded and finished with clear marine varnish. That should take the best part of a month.


Tools Shed

A tool shed under the house seems in order, the bodega is too small to work in and after creating shelves for storage there won't be much room.

Furniture

The couches took some abuse from the dogs, who now have been relegated to the deck where they chase each other in circles around the wrap around deck at dawn and then take to chewing on the wicker furniture.

Gutters

The gutters are clogged with leaves.  This is my drinking supply water, trying to get to these gutters 30 off the steep slope should be a trick.   I used to just power wash my gutters, but I don't want to wash these leaves into the connection system.

The guy I bought my rocking chairs from has not replied about getting spare parts.

Run to Town

Internet
Panama Cable and Wireless couldn't find my account.  I looked up the previous owner's passport number only to discover that my internet provider is Cable Chico.   The office is a two room house with no sign in front.   They knew who the former owner was, said she had shut down her account and that I had a $35 reconnect fee.  I paid two months in advance, asked how fast my connection was supposed to be and was advised it was 256 KB/s thats about 2.56 mb/s, not bad about old cable speeds in the U.S.  unfortunately my connection is nowhere near that fast.  They said a technician could look at it.  We'll see what that gets me.  My first hop is about 956 ms latency, probably from here, to Bastimentos and back to Colon.

Groceries

I bought damn near everything on my list at one store, no shopping around, the largest sizes I could find and took a taxi back and dropped it off on my boat.   

Shopping for Hardware

Chow Kai is not on my list of preferred places, they carry little, are often out of stock and are closed from 12 to 1:30, I went to Sur de Bocas and found success on a double gang switch and some hose washers.  A quick pizza and back home to find my room-mates trying to get a water taxi back into town.

Repairs

When trying to install it I found that they were two independent switches with no connection bar, so I'll have to make a pigtail for the wire coming out of the wall and make a common cold wire for each switch.  Bypassing the switch, the ceiling fan worked fine.  I can't believe I failed to buy some #14 and #12 stranded wire, a pair of needle nose pliers, miscellaneous wire nuts, crimp fittings, and electrical tape.  I'll make another run to town tomorrow. My wire pliers were retrieved from my waterproof box on the dock, two weeks old and seriously rusted. I wiped down everything with 3 in 1 oil. There is no WD-40 here and not by accident. After my improv fix I hacked a little in the jungle hitting my dogs pretty hard with a stick at every opportunity. I cut down two to near three inch hardwood saplings in a single blow, if they were near my machete, I would decapitate them.

That doesn't include everything, I got some tires I need to string up on the dock and have a slew of boat work pending as well as some legal work on the house that needs to be completed, I'll document that later. There is a lot of shit to do. I told a friend I would install a cellular repeater five months ago when I had little or nothing to do. He finally got around to working on it and wants some help. I'll put your request in the queue. Don't wait up.

The plan was to do nothing. Poor execution.

My cell phone died in the rain Saturday, need to replace and see how many of the 50 local phone numbers I've lost.  The GPS on the boat is out.  Need another bilge pump.  Need to secure first pump. Get wax electrical sealer, redo the patch panel on the boat. The gas tank on my secondary boat needs to be replaced, a big aluminum tank affixed in the hull.  The gas gauge on the boat is out.    Need a boat house.

Well at least my refrigerator maintenance got it back in place.  Need to get the other refrigerator from Sheppard Island.

Bought a BCD, now I need to buy some weights and an octopus.

Clyde has a huge amount of plants for me to plant,   Oh yeah need a sump pump for the boat, some romex, better rewire the dock bodega.   Still need to put a ceiling in the upper bodega.  Lights on the dock.  Apply for title and a water concession.  Ceiling fan is out.  Change internet service over to Claro, oh yeah, gotta pay my Panama Cable and Wireless bill.

Tow a boat from Colon to my house.

My software project is getting behind schedule.   The power supply for the security system is in?  Got to help a friend by installing his system and connecting to the internet.  Oh yeah and buy one for me.  Better recharge the battery on my  backup boat, will it start?   Need jumper cables or a charger.

The composting toilet needs to be turned and feed wood chips.  Need more wood chips.  Oh yeah and the work desk and run electricity out to the deck.   Machete clear the property border.

Oil the floors, sand the exterior walls and revarnish.  Power wash and seal the stairs.   Check on a friend who needs a house sitter.

Shop for food an house supplies. Take dog to vet for shots.  Get Hayu neutered.

What the hell ever happened to my hang out and do little more than scuba dive, snorkel and fish plan?

Party at Lomo Partida

It rained like hell all Friday night, starting at about six. My boat was dry but the battery was low. A friend told me that the two members of Con Leche a local band had decided on the day of her party that they were “Not in the right headset to perform.” I suspect this had something to do with the full moon party on Friday night that started at midnight.  Ok, I'll pack some music, I called a friend to get my disk drive out of his office, but he was attending to a boat at a house he had been house-sitting that sank Friday night.  Shit and double shit.

Boat Parts Swap

My room-mates and I headed to a boat parts swap at Bocas Marina. There were boat owners and home owners scattered at various locations with crap from their boats, everything from respirator masks to bicycles. It took but a few minutes to survey everything.

Some plastic compartmentalized boxes grabbed my attention. “They are of the highest quality. Made in Germany.” I opened one up, molded into the bottom it said they were made in Turin, Italy. Whatever. He wanted $5 apiece; I bought all three for $12.

Brandy and Becky were standing at the end of the pier. “You ready to go?” Brandy was looking at a  Scuba Pro Knighthawk BCD. Hmm, here is an extra large, never been used, tags still on it. I picked it up for $350. Not a great deal, they retail for near $600 but can be found for as little as $359 on line, but then there is the issue of shipping, my telescope has been lost in the system in Panama by Mail Boxes Etc for 10 weeks.  He also had a propane refrigerator, the same as the one I have at home but with only five months on it. They sell new for $1,000 to $1,200 dollars. For sale for only $400. “Go home, fire it up, if it works, I'll take it.” He said he would deliver it to my house. When I advised that my house was 100 steps up from the dock he said “To your dock.” We were going to an overnight party at Michelle's  but I was not surprised to see that they (Brandy) had changed their (her) minds (mind) once again and now decided not to go. A guy in town was going to hitch a ride with me but as I had my two room-mates and two band members, I told him I had no room. Gas up, $66 and head out to Lomo Partida. Adding to my growing list of things not working, the GPS on my boat was out. I had been there but once.

To the party

From twelve miles away the general destination was clear enough.  Lomo Partida is Spanish for 'split hill' look for the dual mounds in the Southeast, bearing 130.  Past the tip of Isla Solarte, Isla Christobol, Isla Popa down through the mangroves, down the split, around the bend.  Whoa! First attempt, about 15.6 nautical miles.

Arriving, guests were on the dock eating Hungarian goulash made with otay, the starchy root of broad leafed plant, rather than potatoes.  Other than the beef, everything came off the little 2 1/2 hectare organic farm.  The food was wonderful.  More boats arrived, guests bearing salmon mousse, potato salad and salsa.   We sat around and told boating stories, Scott related the stories of starting on of  big (871) Detroit Diesels on his Hatteras recently and blowing an exhaust vent, water flooding the engine compartment though the below water fitting.  I almost sank a yacht the same way one not so fine day on Lake Texoma.  The $15,000 windlass that was destroyed on first use because the installer had failed to add quart of oil to the gearbox.  Stephen's new sunken boat.  The paint job and electrical repair on my boat.  Everybody had a story.  Boats are expensive to maintain.

Michelle recruited me to walk up to the house to get the other puppies, litter mates of my puppy Jessica.  Up the 187 steps to the house with my dog Hayu leading the way.  He walked down the steps, I heard a yelp and laughed when Hayu running for life, being chased by a house cat.  The victorious cat let him continue running and the monkey, Topo took over the chase, sending Hayu further on his way.   Now that he had put Hayu on the run he was to be provoked mercilessly.  We returned to the dock.   The monkey chased my dog who bounded off the pier and fled for safety in the water.   After returning to the dock, the monkey chased him until Hayu sought refuge on my boat, standing at the stern, balls to the water and head to the monkey.   This went on all evening.

A drizzle turned into a tempest, my boat rocked and started to bang against the pier.  I let out as much line as possible, got on the boat, dug out the anchor and threw it as far as possible and lashed it to a stern cleat.   The grabbing the bowline I pulled in as much line as I could as the anchor set and stepped four feet from a slippery gunwale to a slippery dock.  Check the bilge pump, checked. Soaking wet and cold I returned to the party which was now in the one room house on the water, the only building on the property when Michelle bought the place.   One of the guests was dancing with Hayu, unaware that I had been teaching him how to dance.

After much animated conversations the locals returned to their nearby houses and those that had come from more remote islands or as far away as Panama City stayed and went up to the house for entertainment of a sort not to be engaged in front of the staff.  My trusty 200 lumen flashlight helped illuminate the dark, slippery winding steps, but some managed to misstep and fall off the walkway.  Eventually I went to my designated quarters, a thatch roofed cabina constructed of cana blanca.  On my bed was kit with mosquito netting, two towels and four washclothes.  There was no water running in the nearby bathroom as all water is generally turned off throughout the facility to stop the terror of the island, Topo, from turning on a faucet, flooding some building and depleting the rain catchment water.

The bed was very comfy, fitted with fine cotton sheets and I slept well, though actually a bit chilled for the first time in Bocas.  The cool air rolls down the mountains on the mainland and pours over the small expanse of water cooling the south side of this island by ten degrees Farenheit.

Morning

We were all going on a one hour boat ride to Rana Azul Pizzeria.  (blue frog, yes there are blue frogs there, of the same species as the frogs on my island which are red in some locations and blue on other parts of the island).   I went up to fetch Jessica, couldn't find her and was told that she was under the deck of a palapa.   I finally managed to dig her out.   A yelp, a scream, much commotion, Michelle took off and returned with a bloody monkey.  Apparently Hayu had decided enough was enough and grabbed the monkey, puncturing his chest and was thrashing it about but dropped it when ordered to by Michelle.  The right shoulder was dislocated, but within minutes it was eating.  There was very little sympathy from the guests.  "That should teach him to leave the dogs alone." To which Michelle, replied, "No, it won't, he's a monkey."

Michelle wanted some cigarettes and I boarded Scott's boat along with his wife, Belinda and Linda, a writer who had just moved from Troy, Michigan to Boquette.   This was Linda's first time in Bocas.   West, north into the channel we docked at the tiny wooden shack.   A three by six foot mesh container housed live lobster.  A unfortunate toucan perched in an immorally small enclosure, hell any cage is too small, this bird deserved to be free.  Six or eight shelves held about 20 products.  Toilet paper, cigarettes of some strange brand.  Ship Virginia tobacco to Vietnam, roll them into cigarettes and ship them back. That's a lot of burning oil.  Marlboros sell for $2 a pack in Costa  Rica these sell for $3 and taste like some reject from a Canadian factory.   I figured the total inventory in the store couldn't have amounted to $200.   Gas was brought out in five gallon buckets and siphoned into the boat, kick started with a suck on the hose.   Linda, welcome to the jungle.  Back to Michelle's.  Express sorrow about the state of the monkey and once again am told something to the effect that it was nature.

My boat was full of water, I'm glad it didn't rain hard at night or I would have had a sunken boat as the bilge pump had gone out.  It was working fine just before I went to bed.   With a 27 year old buxom Panamanian and a couple my age we boarded my boat while the rest of the party took the house panga or Scott's boat.   I asked Jeff to drive the boat while I pulled the plug.   We neared the gas station and Jeff throttled back, "throttle up!"  Got to be moving faster than 9 knots or water comes in the hole.  I put the plug back in the hole.  He never turned back and I missed a chance to off two passengers.  I was hoping I could transfer a couple of passengers to the other boat, which was much lighter, but we drove on past them.    I didn't know the way, we followed Michelle's boat which is the same length as mine, but doesn't have a floor, a console, two coolers a foredeck or two fiberglass bench seats.   With five rows of wooden plank seats and a forty horse power she could ride in circles around me.  Off to hristobol, through a cut off to the mainland around a bend, to find 30 boats lashed three abreast to the small dock.

Good, but not great pizza was prepared in brick wood burning ovens.  By the time I had arrived several people wanted to buy Hayu a beer for tearing into the monkey.  I still felt bad about it it was a response to extreme provocation 

Back to the boat north and west of Cristobol, around the point avoiding the shoals by swinging wide of a buoy, unlit, hell, none of them are lit in here, even channel buoys that guide the giant banana boats.

I went to Casa Verde to drop off Sol, "Jessica, Hayu, Jim."  Even with some new guests I knew most everybody on the dock. Walter was looking disconsolate; he had failed to get anything done on Stephen's boat other than have the plugs pulled and oil injected into the cylinders.   This is going to be one expensive repair.   The boat could not be pulled the three miles to the spot on which it was to be repaired as the outboard tilt was inoperative and the boat was to be beached.   "Jim can you jailbreak an iPhone for me?"  I have other things to tend to right now.

I took my remaining passenger over to Bocas Marina, where he is a diesel mechanic, running his own shop out of a small room beneath a large, termite eaten green wooden house.   A few minutes later, I found the fuse had blown.  A five amp fuse protecting a 10 amp motor.  No tens available, put in a twenty, which would blow in the event of a dead short.  The only draw on the lead was the bilge pump.     It would be running because of rain, surely to sink on failure during a heavy rain without the pump, the risk of fire was hugely smaller.  A squall was kicking up, time to head for the always tranquil water in front of my house.

Why no pictures?   I haven't been carrying my SLR camera and frankly, I hate the pictures I get with my waterproof, shockproof Canon.  

Boat Electrical, Refrigerator, Fan everything is breaking

Refrigerator

Having burned all the bristles off my refrigerator maintenance brush last time I tried to clean the flue, I sought in town for one with no luck.  My friend Walter was going to Changuinola yesterday and did me the favor of checking every hardware store and then doing the same in Almirante on the way back.  I wrapped a cloth around the stubs of bristles and scrubbed the flue tube with my three foot brush it seemed to do the trick.    Refrigerator contents hit the ocean or the counter as appropriate.

Battery

After having my battery cable replaced I noticed that my volt meter indicated that I had only 8 volts, barely enough to start the engine.  What the hell?   I took it back to the shop and the mechanic showed me that if I put the battery switch to the "All" position that it rose to 13 volts.  Problem solved.

No, bud, now we are reading the voltage from the second battery, the first battery is still only putting out 8 volts.   He had no idea what I was talking about.  Sitting with the shop owner I told him how to diagnose the system.   Earl's Spanish is atrocious.  I said, "Hey, I brought along a translator, do you want me to get her?"  "Is she cute?"  "Not bad."   I went and fetched her.   Brandy has been sailing for the last week and has darkened quite a bit.  Earl's eyes about bugged out of his head.  Brandy spoke and Earl started telling her that her English was very good.   Yeah, growing up in the States, that can happen, he thought she was Panamanian.  A good candidate for working under cover she could pass herself off as a local in a shitload of countries.   Turned out she never translated anything, Leo, the mechanic apparently understood everything I said.

Measure the voltage across the terminals.   Then from one cable to the other terminal and vice versa.   If you get a voltage drop, the cable being tested at that time needs to be repaired or replaced.   I left, came back in a bit and the guy was sitting, looking at the two batteries with a confused expression on his face.    He felt that I needed to replace the other cable.  I showed him how to measure the resistance through the cable and measure the voltage as explained above.   He did so and I proved there was nothing wrong with either cable.

I told him this had to be continued until he got to the volt meter.  On a subsequent trip I see that he had removed the switch and was stumped again.  I laughed out loud.   When he was replacing the cable I gave him a tube of electrical silicone which is used to wrap splices to make them waterproof.  He had coated the terminals with the substance.  Even with my shitty Spanish I explained to him that this was an insulator, not a conductor and that he had to brush the corrosion off the mount posts and the silicone off the nuts, washers, terminals.

Hell, I did it myself.   He told me the switch was bad and I showed him how to test the switch and proved that it was fine.   Finally it was all put back together and everything was fine.   With a set of tools I could have finished the job in 15 minutes, this took a trip into town and three hours.

With ten trips up and down main street I must have been asked thirty times how Jessica was doing.  I stepped on her foot last night, it was too long a night for me.  Another story, another entry, maybe.

Paint

Richard, the Colombian who painted my boat saw it the day after I got it.  Sheets of paint were coming off the sides.   Richard was appalled and told me that it was no problem, they would fix everything at no cost.   Shit, I don't want to be without a boat for two days.   Turns out they used old paint.  I'm glad it came off so quickly, it was obviously not my fault.  We agreed to have it repainted November 7 through the ninth, when I pop up to San Jose, Costa Rica to pick up my oldest son who needs two implants and two root canals.

Ceiling Fan

The ceiling fan has declined from needing a kick start, to noisy to dead in three days. It's raining, no need for it just now. I'll just add that to my list.

Boat Done Banana's Style

I was told that my boat was ready so I made a cursory examination of the boat and went across the street to pay my bill.    Two holes had been repaired which was to have amounted to $250, a bottom paint job at $660 and the gunwhale painted for $70, which I negotiated down from $100, but which still seemed excessive considering the fact that it was less than 10 square feet.

Looking over the boat I noticed that black footprints covered the fore deck.  Great, somebody had been stepping on the wet rail and tracking prints.   I commented to the man who painted the boat who went of to get something with which to clean it up.   A local maleante (ne'er-do-well) was spouting something in Spanish that I disregarded.  I left for a bit and when I returned, the paint was gone along with some of the gelcoat on the foredeck.  I don't know what kind of solvent he used, but now I'm going to insist that the foredeck be painted for free.

Walter and I headed out.  Then he told me the maleante had been saying, "Don't bitch about the work, we don't need your money."  Funny, the town thief was speaking for the owner when he was not even associated with the shop.  I'm sure Walter didn't tell me until we left because he knew I would call the guy out and Walter is not a confrontational person.  Our initial objective was to look at some property I wanted to see, but it was getting late.  My little puppy Jessica high stepped an agitated dance on the foredeck.  "Walter, get Jessica and throw her in the water, quick."  Obviously some nasty solvent was irritating her paws.  Damn.  

I tried to drop by to visit on friend who is looking for a house sitter, but the long dock could only accommodate one boat, the walls collapsing into the water leaving rocks and strewn about poles the whole of one length and 90% of the other side.  Perhaps someday I'll go into Sheppard Johnson and his developments, but probably not. I couldn't lash onto her boat as her mechanic showed up the same time I did and wanted to lash on himself to Susan's boat.

I dropped off a hat somebody had left on my property the day before who had come to get some palm trees, another story I'll probably never get around to writing and picked up some small palms sprouting from coconuts.

As we were heading into town a strong wind blew in from the South, chop formed quickly.  As docked  bow first in my usual spot without any significant effort but water was washing over the stern.  I tried to  bring her in stern first, but between the wind and the waves, it didn't seem prudent so I headed off to Chow Kai, my preferred hardware store for no reason other than location and docked there, on the east side of the peninsula, sheltered from the south by a string of buildings and headed out for pizza after checking with the operator, informing him I would be across the street and to let me know before he locked up the gate.

Halfway through dinner Shakey came out to tell me that everything was fine as he was closing up shop.   After dinner Shakey was nowhere to be found and my boat was locked behind a gate.   On the other side of the hardware store is a water taxi stand, so I took a water taxi ride for a hundred feet, got on my boat and headed out home.   Why the hell is my volt meter showing 8 volts?  The batteries had been fine?  I switched to the other battery, not better, but when I set the rotor to "ALL" the meter read 13.2 volts.   This shouldn't be happening with batteries wired in parallel, they must have mucked up the contacts when working on the switch.   I'll see what I can do manana, when I am supposed to bring my other boat in to get the gas tank replaced.

Water and Machetes

Boatless, stay at home day. Swim, snorkel, machete, snorkel, repeat to bed, exhausted.

He's Back

Went to town, check on boat.  Another hole. Met with a guy about a party I'm throwing for my room-mate's thirtieth. I Met with a woman who wants to buy my other boat that brings it up to four interested parties.   While sitting on a stool at Casa Verde a dog ran up to me and put his head on my knee.  I looked down to see my missing, Hayu, who had disappeared from my house ten days before, about five miles away on another island.


Hayu was greeted by most of the people at Casa Verde.  There were a few guests there who had no idea what the commotion was about.   Nikelda came out from reception and informed me that Roxie was tending to her station, selling tickets for sailboat cruises, saw Hayu walking down the street and called Nikelda.   Nikelda ran down to the ticket office, got a leash and set off after Hayu.  She called out to him, but he looked over his shoulder at her and continued trotting down the street.  "No time, babe, I know where I'm going."  Right through the front gate and around to my stool.

Hayu was looking well fed but had a few small clumps of hair that fell free from his scalp.   Some minor scrapping maybe over a bitch.   He was as timid as the day I got him, life on the road didn't suit him all that well.   I took a water taxi home with Hayu and Jessica, my pup and went for an afternoon swim.  After about a quarter of a mile I felt a scratch on my shoulder as Hayu decided to climb on top of me.  I reached my end point, the Garden of Eden, turned around and swam home.   No dog to be found.   I called out for him.   My roomies told me my phone had been ringing every five minutes.   A boat pulled up to my dock.  My neighbor Jim had been called by Helena at the Garden of Eden and said "Is this your dog?"  "Dumb mutt, c'mon."  I had to explain that he had already been home and that this was not a 10 day reunion.  Thanks neighbors and everybody on the lookout for Hayu.   Lot's of great people in Bocas.

Pool Party

Sitting on the dock with my puppy, waiting for the water taxi while watching the snapper feed, a dolphin breached a hundred feet off shore. A few minutes later my captain showed up and took me to Casa Verde where a local was fishing off the dock wearing a Tilley. "Me gusta tu Sombrero." Turns out the guy found it floating in the water, they'll float forever. I told him they cost $70, about a week's wages, he had a hard time fathoming the fact. A school of squid swam off the dock.

Some of the dogs have been chewing on the chairs, so we've been asked to secure our dogs on the dock. Jessica started the day with a shampoo and conditioner, preening for the party. Maybe not preening, she hated it. But not as much as when walked around a large pole. I heard a yell and a splash, Jessica was hanging from her collar a few inches above the water. Five seconds later she was stunned, cradled in my arms. Ten seconds later she acted like it never happened.


Pool party time, off to catch a ride to Hacienda del Toro. Down at the transport company the owner asked if I had found my dog yet.  "Jim, you have to treat these people with respect.  If you don't treat them with respect, they'll rob you blind. I take care of my people and they take care of me."  What the f**k was that all about?  Random conjecture or just the usual.  I fired back, "So did you ever recover your belongings after your houseboat was plundered by the guy you fired?"  A sullen look.

I guess a bit annoyed at me for having failed to invest in his property he went on.  "You know I've been to your house many times while it was being built, I would never build a house out of Nispero."  Ok, the full dick press is on.  "It's been seven years, how far along is your house?  Have any walls up yet?  I guess you can not build out of a lot of things."

"I pay my people more than anybody else, that's why I have the best boat captains."  I thought back about how the last time I used one of his boats the captain couldn't find one of the most famous resort on this island.  A short while later we boarded his boat, rode over to Dolphin Bay and his captain tried to drop us off at a random location.  Fortunately we recognized the hosts yacht, saw where he was heading an the passengers directed on of "the best boat captains" to the resort.

Anybody can throw a party, but if you want an event, a couple of guys in town here take care of everything.

Too much to catch up on, so I'll just shut the hell up and post an album shot by Becky on the day of the pool party.  A guess after a week, with no idea when she is leaving, she is no longer a guest, but a roommate.  That's fine with me, she's very pleasant, makes no demands and contributes as the self described "Dish Bitch."

https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-rHcZHPkD0WE/TpObJlO4PmI/AAAAAAAAgw8/jwkLqjfyW80/s640/PA080156.JPG

https://picasaweb.google.com/111275040267764796607/HaciendaDelToroPoolParty

Repairs

I dropped my room-mates off at Cosmic Crab where they shopped for organic products and headed over to meet Worth, who agreed to look at my hull problem. I was running a bit late as I waited on my crew so I felt a bit better when I passed Worth on the way to the shop. Earl, the shop owner agreed to let me lift the boat for nothing. Worth gave a courtesy assessment and told me he was very busy and referred me to someone else, who had grown up making boats in Cartegena, Colombia. Worth assured me that he was more than capable of taking on the job. Earl called him, he showed up in minutes, assessed the damage, which was in fact a failing repair, nothing I had done and gave a quote for $150. Earl made it perfectly clear to him that this was all inclusive, labor and materials following a side comment that without proper handling prices were subject to change during the job.

The boat has to be perfectly dry, drying for days before the fiberglass patch can be applied. Ok, the boat needs a paint job anyway. Boat bottoms should be covered with a strong paint infused with copper to stop marine growth. "How long is your boat?" "Fourteen feet." "Hah!" "Ok, call it twenty-two feet." The price runs $33 a foot and includes prep work of scraping, sanding, washing with muriatic acid, priming and painting. Worth assured me that Earl's paint jobs are great and that his last one lasted five years.

"Ok, $810, patch, prep and paint, how many days?" Five. Whatever, I have a spare boat. "When can you get started?" "It's on the lift now." "Sounds good, I'll have it by Wednesday?"

I put down a $400 deposit, which was really being used to go buy the paint at $300 a gallon and the fiberglass. Not much of a deposit is required if one is in possession of the boat.

Worth told me how much he liked the boat, saying that he had wanted to buy it. That makes about half a dozen people. It really is a nice boat for $7,500 even if it is underpowered. Worth pointed to his monster, with twin 115 E-tech (Evinrude two-stroke) outboards and said "That's $500 a day in gas to fish off of." "Well, we'll take my boat, if you show me the spots, I can pull that off for about a fifth of that." "I've got all the gear and I know where all the spots are." Okay, now we have fishing, and crocodile, snake and frog hunting on the itinerary.

Last night I had to run the generator as it had been a particularly cloudy day and we had done a couple of loads of laundry. Down to the dock, up 100 steps with five gallons of gas. I put in a gallon or so and the thing ran dry. I pulled on the rope many times until I was holding the handle and a severed cord. A quick inspection revealed that it wouldn't take much more than a socket set and maybe some screwdrivers would do the trick. Ok, off to Kow Chai to buy a socket set. "Shit, crap, Cooper, let me see that one." Man that was over priced. I ended up with a half inch metric set, not near the black chromed Vanadium set that is lost somewhere at my brother's house or even any of the five sets I have in storage, but it would do the trick. Pull cord, "No Shakey, that's twisted nylon, it needs to be braided, see this spool, it's even labelled, 'Pull Cord." Ten feet. Some haggling on prices, a can of starter fluid. "No, I'll take this one, they are both 11 ounces of ether." Ether way didn't need it, but it's nice to have on hand.

Water taxi. Need a water taxi. Off to find a friend and get a list of names and numbers. Guy number one said he would pick me and my roomies off every day for $40. Guy number two said he would take me home for $20. Maybe these prices were based on the fact that I told them my destination was an upscale resort near my house to give them an idea of the location, maybe I just looked stupid. Number three agreed to $10. He showed up, I scurried over with my tools, a waterproof toolbox and a five gallon gas tank from my boat, my backpack. Good to go. We pulled out and a woman yelled at me, "What about Jessica?" Damn. How could I forget my friggin' puppy?

I got off on my dock. Keys. Always take the boat keys. Don't want to walk another flight if possible, but mine were back in my boat. No big deal. I have tools. Five seconds to compromise security.

The repair of the generator took about five minutes, thank you Honda. I recalled the number of times I to effect this repair on a Briggs and Stratton, drilling out rivets and working on really lousy stamped metal and plastic parts. Hey a chance to work on my Panama web site, the girls are staying overnight in town god knows the bars don't close until four.

Boat Repair

Following a blissfully calm morning, doing little more than sitting on the deck, soaking in the view and consuming coffee the occupants of the little jungle house on the hill made our way to town, accompanied by Jessica, our lovable little mutt. Time to dock. No room at Chow Kai, my hardware store of choice. Hmmm, let's see what kind of abuse is heaped upon us for occupying a slip behind the sailboat tour company. It was dished out warm and firm, no I couldn't stay there. Brandy went to La Buga Dive Shop for her first dive this trip and Ricardo, the owner pointed to a slip and said it had my name on it. I'll be getting my Dive Master Certification at La Buga, so that's pretty much every weekday for the next couple of months.

First stop was an attempt to get a duplicate boat key. My only chance was the Yamaha dealer. Yes, they duplicate keys, but not console keys for Yamaha, a full court banana country press. He shoots, he scores! I was told that maybe I could get one made in David, on the Pacific side. Hell, that's nothing but a four hour ride each way for a maybe.

Down at Earl's boat repair I found Erwin, surrounded by near a dozen people, preparing to leave the business and turn it over to Leonardo, a Ngobe. I asked if I could interrupt and told Erwin that I wanted a pair of electrical lines snaked through the conduit, one affixed to the new bilge pump and switch and the other left as a spare for another bilge pump I would obtain. Erwin translated to Leonardo and I was advised to go fetch my boat. Off I went to get my boat and upon return Leonardo started shuffling the boats that blocked the way to the boat lift. I moored, leaving him to finish his nautical Rubik's cube after getting a quote of $20 to do the work and returned to La Buga, got my Emergency First Responder study material and tried to connect to the internet there. Little Jessica was doing her usual fine job of luring bikini clad hotties while I tried to connect to the internet. The owner didn't know the password and passed me off to another guy who gave me one that did not work. The woman who runs the restaurant knew the correct key. Hint, case is important and one cannot subsititute underscores for dashes. I wrote down the correct password and gave it to Ricardo for reference.

Off to a place I frequently haunt I listened to the house jack-of-all-trades docking the boat. Every time he put the engine in reverse a long grinding of gears testified that the lower unit on this outboard was in the process of being converted to metallic shavings and dust, issuing protest that penetrated clouds of blue smoke, signalling the upper unit was near ready to join the lower unit.

Back to the boat shop, the heavy battery cables were being repaired, a large pile of brochantite and malachite, the green byproducts of copper oxidation, littered the deck. Would I like the cable replaced? That would be a "yes." Another hour and a half. Don't forget, I want the hull inspected, it has a breach. Upon another return trip, the boat was hoisted further and a fist sized hole, with the fiberglass in place but with a large ragged edge was found to be the source of the leak. Now I needed to call Worth, but Stephen has his number and he is in Texas and Erwin failed to give me his number so I couldn't call Erwin and ask. I finally got the number and called Worth. He obviously didn't know who I was. "Worth, it's me, Jim, we are going to go snake catching together." Well that warmed him up. See you tomorrow at 11 after the Organic Products sale at the Cosmic Crab.

Eventually the boat was put back together and I paid the total tab, which included half an hour's labor at $20. $40 an hour for mechanic labor seemed excessive, but who am I to bitch when he actually worked for a couple of hours. The total tab was $56.

My room-mates found me and we headed back. It had been a cloudy day and after a couple of loads of laundry the batteries had not recharged. Back down to the boat to fetch some gas for the generator. It ran for about 20 minutes and then sputtered to a stop. I added more gas but it refused to start again. I pulled repeatedly on the Honda engine, stopping when I held the pull handle and a limp bit of nylon rope, no longer affixed to the motor. Guess I'll have to buy some rope and a socket set and repair this, something I've done so many times I couldn't imagine trying to put a number on it.

Jessica needed to be crated, with a free run of the house she stays up all night, plays with toys, chews on things and blesses us with piles and puddles. I locked her in the bodega, hoping that the area was sufficiently small that she would be averse to soiling it. She protested in no uncertain terms, howling and barking but finally going to sleep. I was pleased this morning to find that she had controlled herself and that upon release she provided fertilizer to the slope on the west of my house. She know plays with her favorite toy, a six inch diameter hard plastic silverware holder with a long plastic handle. It rolls. Pounce on it and it scoots. Pick it up with the handle and it bangs on the wooden deck which sounds like a loud drum. I have no idea how these women sleep through this.

Day in Town

In bed at 2:30, up at five to a cold rain. Down to the dock and on the boat. So much rain had accumulated that water had filled the bilge and now sat on the deck half way to the bow. Several hundred scoops later all accessible water had been removed but hundreds of pounds of water remained below the deck. I had discovered that the bilge pump had burned out, clogged with dog hair and fishing line. $229 for a new pump is nothing compared to the cost of a new outboard after sinking a boat in a tropical rainstorm. The plug that I had failed to replace may have contributed to some of the water problems.

Back up a hundred steps to the house, dry off, change clothes. Back out on the deck. The sun broke revealing a destroyed rocking chair that I had purchased in Fortuna, Costa Rica a month or two ago and hadn't gotten around to assembling yet. This chair was a replacement for one I used for untold hours while I lived in Cocles, Costa Rica, which I left with a friend who coveted it. Soon my room-mate was up to reveal that an overnight guest had sat in the partially assembled chair at some time closer to dawn than midnight. It was sufficiently assembled that upon drunken inspection in darkness it might resemble something suitable for its intended purpose. The responsible party tossed on the futon, ignoring phone call after phone call and ignoring his Samsung phone snooze alarm that pierced the calm every fifteen minutes, louder than the parrots that were raucously chastising the squandering of daylight.

After many hours the women woke up, I made omelettes and American Fries, we cleaned up and our guest finally got out of bed at near noon. We went down, bailed out the boat again and headed into town. As he got off the boat I castigated him, not for having broken the chair but for failing to have the decency to have mentioned the fact. He laughed and blamed it on the dog. Scratch this place off your party spots, peckerhead.

The women went off to socialize and I to tend to matters. The Yamaha dealer had boat plugs. I bought three. Their bilge pumps were $229. Come on, it's a sealed DC motor, an impeller and a plastic housing. Off to Chow Kai, a hardware store. I met Shakey and told him I was new house owner here. I found a 1750 gallon per hour bilge pump for $59, seems more than adequate to replace my 1100 GP/H unit. Ok, crimping connectors, silicone liquid electrical tape, screwdriver set, stripping crimping pliers, some mounting screws.

I moved my boat over to Casa Verde and set about install the new pump. I showed Shakey how the electrical pliers were used to crimp the connectors, telling him that I used to manage a hardware store. He learned a thing or two. Back to the boat. I hooked up the pump to the old connector. No luck. Do I have power? No way to know. I tried to borrow a volt ohm meter, but there were no cables. Flaco graciously offered to go home and get his. It was worthless. I tested it on charged batteries. Let's see, three Nickel Metal Hydrides in series, that should be about 3.6 volts. Nope, -17.32, +53.2, piece of shit. Back to the store. A bit of wire, a Greenlee volt-ohm meter, some more connectors. Give money. Wait for change. Get off the phone, just give me my seven dollars back. "Hey, I'll just get my ch Back to the boat. No power. Hmmm. Attach some terminals to the wires, Attach terminals to connection block, run wires. Bilge pump runs all the time. A short walk back to the store, part of the reason I had relocated the boat. Boat a float switch and confirmed I could use it if I didn't need it. Checked the resistance on the existing switch and found it was operative. Hell, I'll keep the other switch and add a backup bilge pump. Patched in the switch. Siliconed the connections. The women found me. Not hard to guess where I would be. Bought some food and headed home.

Early night for all.

Morning has broken

A gentle breeze ripples the water, creating a continual flow of crescents bordered by a flat sea that mirrors the clouds, looking as much as melting ice on a spring day as it does an invite to snorkel the nearby coral and spearfish for snapper.

To catch up on the blog or go snorkeling, that is the question.

Refrigerator Maintenance

My propane refrigerator was not cooling so I set about attempting to remedy the situation.

Following instructions provided by some friends I removed the flue from my refrigerator and brushed it out.   After locating the tiny hook for the baffle in the heat exchanger, I removed it and washed it off.  The  large brush, which looks like a baby bottle brush with a three foot handle was run up and down the tube in the heat exchanger, sloughing large amounts of carbon.  It soon emitted, smoke.  Damn, I guess I should have turned off the flame first.  Extracting the brush, it was now but a wire.

The refrigerator started cooling.  Hopefully I can buy a brush in town.

Cleaning up.

After breakfast of american fries, eggs and bread prepared by yours truly we set about putting the house in order. Brandy cleaned out the cupboards and took care of the floor, while Becky washed every pot, pan and utensil that been removed from the cupboard and we set about sorting and reducing the amount of cookware, plates and glasses. We really don't need 20 plates, glasses and sets of cutlery for three people and would rather dedicate the cupboard space to food. Becky found the jug used for bailing and emptied hundreds of gallons of water into the ocean. She was not aware that there was a tube that runs from beneath the deck. and that as she was emptying the water was being replaced by water under the deck. I inspected the bilge pump to find that it was clogged with dog hair and had burned out. My two spares were much smaller units and wouldn't fit the discharge hose.

I should have at least two battery powered units and one that runs off AC. It's easy to lose a boat in a single night of rain and a submerged engine is pretty much shot. We snorkled around the house, finding an octopus, a lot of snapper, some of them well into dinner sized, anemone, urchins, various coral, a parrot fish, some angel fish, starfish and sponges. Far from awesome, but hey, it's thirty feet from the dock. Having burned away most of the day, I took a gas tank off on boat and used it to fill the tank on the primary boat with the aid of a funnel and we made our way to town. By this time it was past five and the gas station I use was closed. It turns out that another one is near the marina on Carenero and we headed over there to see if we could find it. We heard loud drumming and rounding the corner saw a school yard through an opening between a couple of building and dozens of young students beating on bass drums. November is the month of parades in Bocas. There are about five holidays, all on weekdays, in November. Get your banking in while you can. Speaking of which, we heard last night that all of Banco Nacional is offline as a result of a lightning strike that took down its mainframe. Interesting, there is only one bank in town, Banco Nacional. This should make things fun at the ATM. Fortunately I topped off the day before.

We saw a shack near a sign reading "No Fumar". That must be the place. I pulled up and got out. A ray swam out from the under the dock. A tour boat operator pulled up, pulled out his tank and ran to beat me. I'm in no hurry, go ahead, cut in. The woman who ran the place put a 3/4" piece of clear plastic tubing into one of the many 15 gallon plastic cans, sucked on it and siphoned his five gallon tank full. Nope, there is no dockside service, I'd have to get 22 gallons five gallons at a time, measured out in a plastic five gallon water bottle. Brandy laughed when she saw me returning to the boat with a five gallon bottle of water, a Kodak moment in her mind and she is virtually a Bocaratorian. This is all so strange and unusual to Becky that she just took it in stride.

After the second bottle full and filling up my five gallon spare, my hands covered in gasoline, gas soaked cuts on my hands from some barnacles, I figured it would be fine to just top off the next day at my usual filling place. We checked out a couple of places, couldn't find a place to dock and went over to eat on a boat that serves as a restaurant, although it is actually capable of being operated as was demonstrated during a recent divorce of the couple that owned the place. I'll have to skip the details, I can no longer tell interesting tales on cities two hundred miles in my wake. I live here.

Cruising

Well, my new roomie, Brandy finally made it back to Bocas after about four months in New Mexico. Having gotten her fill of snow skiing and snow boarding in for the year she returned to the tropics for blue water and jungle. Having taken the overnight bus from Panama City to Almirante with her friend, Becky, she was to meet me at Casa Verde where I would escort them to my house. Following a fair rain, on the run in I had to remove the plug to drain the boat of the accumulated water and having achieved that task was chagrined to find myself withdrawing the plug and latching handle separately from my pocket. The rubber component was placed in the hole but absent the handle could not be firmly secured as the handle compresses the plug increasing its diameter.

We met at the dock, I met Becky and we went off to secure some provisions and I to get some locking pliers with which I might effect a repair to the plug until such time as replacement and spare. The handle serves as a cam and is mounted through a hole in a rod and affixed by a pin which was missing. As stated in a couple of former entries, hangers and duct tape have been used employed in many a make shift repair here. We headed off to the house and soon thereafter, Becky, worn out from the trip and some sleeping aids, took a nap while Brandy and I took a short walk in the jungle, returning after finding and catching one of the famous tiny red frogs that inhabit this island. Feeling she had rested enough and that this warranted a view we woke her and showed her the frog which was a small fraction of the size of my little fingernail. She declared it the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

With all parties up, we headed out, with flyers in hand to look for Ngobe indians hoping to get a lead on my missing dog. Rounding the west of my island we encountered my groundskeeper, sitting in a dugout canoe with but half a foot of freeboard paddling the still waters, clad in long pants, a shirt and a jacket, quite a contrast from the small bikinis worn by my passengers. He denied knowing anything about the dog and inquired as to when I wanted him back, I told him I'd let him know. Passing through a cut that separates Isla Solarte from Isla Bastimentos a woman called out to me and waved from a porch. From that distance I couldn't see who it was, but her gestures were so animated that a visit seemed in order. I pulled up and docked and Michelle descended and was most pleased to see that Jessica, the puppy I had purchased from her was with us. A short while later two large men with shaved heads, one with a small pony tail, wearing a thong, joined her. The look on the woman's faces as we ascended the stairs was sufficiently comedic as to distract from that which is most likely to draw a guy's eyes while ascending stairs behind attractive women. We chatted for a while and finally I said something to the effect that we had to go or they had to invite us up on the dock so we could get out of the sun. They invited us up to the "main house" a two hundred square foot wall-less structure furnished with a table, several chairs, a bed, a stove and a refrigerator. Clyde and Verne were the only inhabitants of this 28 acre plot of land and seldom went to town.

Vern started the tour showing us the ornamentals in the immediate area of his house, of more types than I can recall, pointed out the pineapple plants and said that they produced pineapples with white flesh that have no acid. Normal pineapples have a fair amount of acid, but are so laden with sugar its not noticable. I surmised we reached the bounds of Verns domain as he passed me off to Clyde at which point we split up, the woman off to join Michelle. My pup Jessica took of with Ahos, the resident German Shepard, happy to have an outlet for one of her two energy levels, full bore, redlining tear it up, the other being deep sleep. We walked past a large Bobcat escavator which Clyde had brought down from the states and used for scraping black soil topsoil to supplement the red clay in cultivated areas. Clyde was in the process of rebuilding the engine and hydraulics and had constructed frame materials from plate aluminum. A bit further we passed a disassembled Cessna 182 which Clyde had used in a former life as a skydiving instructor; he has over 6,000 jumps under his belt and has a long, varied and interesting background ranging from professional underwater photography, para-sail design, parachute design, aerospace design, manufacturing, and much more. It's quite a long list. A tarp covered section of ground served as a prototype construction area, with sewing machines that can punch through half an inch of nylon straps. Clyde is quite mechanically inclined and is prepared to take on major repairs to equipment as a former machine shop owner with a good amount of tools on the property including what may be the largest welder in the province. He had constructed an 80 foot communication tower and gave some workers instructions for installation with the result that it sits inclined at thirty degree angle stuck in a tree. Looks like it will be a while before they have internet.

"Clyde, why do you have a barrel a barrel tied to your dock?" "Shark bobber." "Becky do you want to go for a swim?"

I finally got around to asking him about his knee brace. Turns out he was snorkeling and was run over by a tour operator who "couldn't see past the first first pair of tits on the boat." Both bones in one leg were broken clean and the prop tore up his thigh. He spent four days in a hospital in Changuinola, had pins put in his bones and his muscles sewn back together. Total bill? $300.


Michelle and Clyde gave me some tips on what to do with my malfunctioning propane refrigerator, how to take off the flue, remove the baffles and clean it out. Later I was told that the refrigerants can stratify and that the I might have to stand the refrigerator on its head and all sides for a period of time ranging from several hours to days depending on whose version one wished to believe. We met another neighbor I'd been told about, Furniture Dave and admired a sink he had made carved out of a solid piece of mahagony on the wall of Verne's bathroom, not the ladies bathroom, which has a door. The sink was wonderful, providing a contrast to a house that otherwise looked like a temporary shelter for housing supplies during a construction project. Clyde's house is a tent made of six mill plastic strung over poles. A tent with leather furniture, and a television, but a tent never-the-less. Constructed as a temporary shelter 5 years ago all that has been completed of the permanent house is a series of poles placed in the ground. Doors don't provide security, being on your property does. There is no need for heating or air conditioning and an adequate roof keeps off the rain. We met "Dave the Furniture Guy" another local, a neighbor hails from England who is a cabinet maker now busy restoring yachts.

It was time to go, but Jessica was nowhere to be found. Becky asked Ahos where Jessica was and Ahos walked away. Becky followed for 50 yards and the German Shepard put his nose under the Bobcat and out popped Jessica, obviously disturbed from her nap. "Good dog, Ahos, you're so smart."

As we wished to get some snorkeling in before the sun went down and headed off to find Discovery Bay. We returned home, looked it up on the internet but couldn't find its location and returned to Clyde and Vern's. On the dock in his underwear, Vern asked "I was wondering how long it was going to take you to come back." Hmmmm? We said we'd get some plants soon, but it seemed a bit odd to ask after only an hour had elapsed. Turns out somebody had left a pack a cigarettes there and he thought they were ours.

Apparently Clyde went through the mechanical aptitude line twice and got Vern's share. Vern doesn't know which end of a screwdriver to hold. rVern was listening to a VHF radio on channel 72 a local chatter channel called BEN (Bocas Emergency Network) in which people give updates on events in town, gossip and send invites to parties. A man in town sells the radios at cost, $200 away the radios to the locals that participate in an emergency response network, that provide emergency medical care or transportation. The group was started after a woman on one of these islands was bitten by a fer-de-lance and needed transport to the mainland for anti-venom as those that had it at the time were unavailable.

On our way there, we ran out of gas, but I had a five gallon spare. The women snorkled for a while, but we really didn't find the reef, then we headed into town hoping had a gorgonzola, jalapeno and ham pizza and headed home to chat on the deck. Becky, this was not a strange day, you ain't seen nothing yet.

Somebody Stole My Dog

Last seen on my dock last night at 7 p.m. while I was in town. The search is on.