Scott had a little adventure here yesterday. He fired up the generator and the diesel return started flooding the bilge with diesel fuel. He called the factory and fixed it with a friend who was out to fix another boat that wouldn't start. He then returned to the original problem, finding that the brush cap on the starter motor needed to be tightened down after working his way back from the battery. He does all his own maintenance as all the locals are hacks. Unfortunately I am not so proficient with mechanics.
We await Eladio, the Indian from whom I bought my land in nearby Aguacate to return with my boat. He took it home with the preservatives for the decking on the dock and my dogs last night. He saw me cruise by and paddled over in his cayuco then took my boat home. Sitting on the aft deck, "Scott, this is wonderful coffee." "Thanks I grow it myself at 4,500 feet on a finca I own near Boquette and have my workers roast it. A short discussion on coffee growing and roasting ensued. Breakfasts of eggs with canned meat by products and beans.
Eladio showed up with my boat and we headed off to inspect the dock. He indicated that he was 48 posts short. Apparently he just made and estimate of the length of the mangroves and wasn't near close. The posts cost $12.50 each and if sufficiently thick should last around 7 years. Many of those installed were not sufficiently thick. The property was to have been cleared but not near enough had been, just a rise and a spot on the top of the first hill. No way to check out any potential building sites. We left, I had a hell of a time descending the hill with my gimpy left foot. It's getting better, but I am not the guy who climbed Mayan temples with aplomb 18 months ago. We toured around, went over and viewed the house of"Wild Bill" the notorious gringo serial killer who went on a rampage for a year starting about three years ago. We then toured around and returned to Scott's boat. Damn it, I wanted this land cleared. It was with this expectation and agreement that $60 was paid at the time I put a down payment on the property. Ok, bring out 8 guys tomorrow and tear it up. I would like to be able to walk through the place. Eladio was not impressed with having Charlotte participate but I insisted. Scott is heading to Bocas tomorrow with a couple of buddies, I think I'll ask if I can tag along. I don't feel inclined to sit on this boat by myself.
Scott suggested that I hire Eladio full time. That's $90 twice a month. Eladio indicated he could build a suitable house on the property at a cost of $400 and that he could use the well. The "well" is a hole in the ground. I'm not sure but I think it is just an underground plastic tank that catches surface rainwater. I am sure it would be an interesting biology lesson to study all of the life forms that inhabit that water. No electricity, they sleep on the wooden floors. Not sure what they would do for toilets. Keep the land clear, plant banana, avocado, plantain, papaya, yucca, otoy, yellow and white pineapples, limes, lemons, pepino, tomatoes, chickens, maybe a few goats. I'll think about it.
Scott was heading off to a local builder's house, Jeb. I had brought a shitload of food but the yacht is more than deficient for food preparation. There is no gas grill, the electric stove is tiny and requires the generator to be running to operate. Scott called Jeb and got us invited. Then he invited Michelle and Ken , the local who ostensibly can fix damn near anything from generators, boat engines, air conditioning, computers, solar power systems, pumps, anything electrical or mechanical. We took along 8 large chicken thighs and drumsticks, cabbage, carrots, cucumbers, peppers, onions and garlic that I had bought. Great! What am I going to eat for the next three days if we eat all the food I brought?
Scott and Charlotte snorkeled. Apparently I had damaged my prop on the way out here and Scott told me I needed to get it replaced immediately before I wore out the bearings and seals in my lower unit. Great, maybe I can catch a ride and buy one in town. More likely I'll catch a ride and they won't have one in town and if they do, it will be the wrong pitch.
Dinner time, packed up a cooler with the food and the gallon of "Salsa Englisa", Worcestershire sauce and some spices that I had bought before heading out and some adobo all purpose seasoning. Charlotte was inundated by attention from Jeb and Ken. For some reason an attractive 21 year old girl garners a great deal of attention from guys in their mid fifties.
Long discussion on provisioning, stock up on everything, propane, gasoline, non perishable foods. Right after Carnivale the Indians will be blocking the roads in force in protest of mining and damming of rivers in their area for hydroelectric projects. The last protest, about a week ago left several dead, many police stations were torched, scorched earth. It only ended with the agreement to release the protesters that had been arrested. Well, that sure didn't solve the core issue, so it was certain to raise its ugly head soon.
The alcohol consumption varied from pretty extreme to a pleasant buzz. I abstained. Dinner was excellent. We left with one person passed out on the dock, returned to the boat and went to bed.
I laid there wondering what my future held for me and to what extent my destiny was a place I would drive myself to or fall into.
We await Eladio, the Indian from whom I bought my land in nearby Aguacate to return with my boat. He took it home with the preservatives for the decking on the dock and my dogs last night. He saw me cruise by and paddled over in his cayuco then took my boat home. Sitting on the aft deck, "Scott, this is wonderful coffee." "Thanks I grow it myself at 4,500 feet on a finca I own near Boquette and have my workers roast it. A short discussion on coffee growing and roasting ensued. Breakfasts of eggs with canned meat by products and beans.
Eladio showed up with my boat and we headed off to inspect the dock. He indicated that he was 48 posts short. Apparently he just made and estimate of the length of the mangroves and wasn't near close. The posts cost $12.50 each and if sufficiently thick should last around 7 years. Many of those installed were not sufficiently thick. The property was to have been cleared but not near enough had been, just a rise and a spot on the top of the first hill. No way to check out any potential building sites. We left, I had a hell of a time descending the hill with my gimpy left foot. It's getting better, but I am not the guy who climbed Mayan temples with aplomb 18 months ago. We toured around, went over and viewed the house of"Wild Bill" the notorious gringo serial killer who went on a rampage for a year starting about three years ago. We then toured around and returned to Scott's boat. Damn it, I wanted this land cleared. It was with this expectation and agreement that $60 was paid at the time I put a down payment on the property. Ok, bring out 8 guys tomorrow and tear it up. I would like to be able to walk through the place. Eladio was not impressed with having Charlotte participate but I insisted. Scott is heading to Bocas tomorrow with a couple of buddies, I think I'll ask if I can tag along. I don't feel inclined to sit on this boat by myself.
Scott suggested that I hire Eladio full time. That's $90 twice a month. Eladio indicated he could build a suitable house on the property at a cost of $400 and that he could use the well. The "well" is a hole in the ground. I'm not sure but I think it is just an underground plastic tank that catches surface rainwater. I am sure it would be an interesting biology lesson to study all of the life forms that inhabit that water. No electricity, they sleep on the wooden floors. Not sure what they would do for toilets. Keep the land clear, plant banana, avocado, plantain, papaya, yucca, otoy, yellow and white pineapples, limes, lemons, pepino, tomatoes, chickens, maybe a few goats. I'll think about it.
Scott was heading off to a local builder's house, Jeb. I had brought a shitload of food but the yacht is more than deficient for food preparation. There is no gas grill, the electric stove is tiny and requires the generator to be running to operate. Scott called Jeb and got us invited. Then he invited Michelle and Ken , the local who ostensibly can fix damn near anything from generators, boat engines, air conditioning, computers, solar power systems, pumps, anything electrical or mechanical. We took along 8 large chicken thighs and drumsticks, cabbage, carrots, cucumbers, peppers, onions and garlic that I had bought. Great! What am I going to eat for the next three days if we eat all the food I brought?
Scott and Charlotte snorkeled. Apparently I had damaged my prop on the way out here and Scott told me I needed to get it replaced immediately before I wore out the bearings and seals in my lower unit. Great, maybe I can catch a ride and buy one in town. More likely I'll catch a ride and they won't have one in town and if they do, it will be the wrong pitch.
Dinner time, packed up a cooler with the food and the gallon of "Salsa Englisa", Worcestershire sauce and some spices that I had bought before heading out and some adobo all purpose seasoning. Charlotte was inundated by attention from Jeb and Ken. For some reason an attractive 21 year old girl garners a great deal of attention from guys in their mid fifties.
Long discussion on provisioning, stock up on everything, propane, gasoline, non perishable foods. Right after Carnivale the Indians will be blocking the roads in force in protest of mining and damming of rivers in their area for hydroelectric projects. The last protest, about a week ago left several dead, many police stations were torched, scorched earth. It only ended with the agreement to release the protesters that had been arrested. Well, that sure didn't solve the core issue, so it was certain to raise its ugly head soon.
The alcohol consumption varied from pretty extreme to a pleasant buzz. I abstained. Dinner was excellent. We left with one person passed out on the dock, returned to the boat and went to bed.
I laid there wondering what my future held for me and to what extent my destiny was a place I would drive myself to or fall into.
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