Kelly and Yvonne

Internet down. Supposed to meet Doug at Casa Verde at 10 and take him fishing where yet another time he promised he would spear enough fish to feed the masses. Off to town. Check email. One of my couch surfing guests finally made it to Bocas. I sent her a message and got a phone call a couple of minutes later. She had met a German girl, could they both stay? Sure, if you can both sleep in the same bed. Off to the park, I spotted them on the street. Lunch at Chitre, beef, beens, rice and salad. Back to Casa Verde. There was Doug doing his usual fine job. Instead of picking up some women he asked some guy along. Doug, you fall quite a bit short of the mark.

Doug claimed his fishing spot was two miles around the point. Off we went, Paul, Doug's invite was looking forlon. I returned. That's really too much weight for the horsepower but we putted. “Ok, Doug where is this house that marks the spot? “A little ways further.” Rinse and repeat. “WTF Doug we we are almost at Punta Caracol are you taking us to Playa Estrella? Jesus, I should have fueled up. Farther yet. Finally we got there. The tide was low, the coral from a few feet to next to no distrance from the bottom of the boat. Paul speared one lionfish, Doug got skunked again. He reminds me of a guy I know living in Belize. The world's greatest fisherman if you ask either of them, but pretty damn low on actually delivering more than excuses. Out of gas. Tank up from spare. Head back to town.

Hungry again girls? Off to Las Palmas, a burger there can readily feed two hungry people. Not serving lunch. Off to Xio Chopa. Not serving lunch. Off to The Tropical Birds. Kelly looked at the prices on the menu, she is on a tight budget. I inquired what the daily off menu deal was. Fish or chicken. We all ordered fish and soon had plates with rice, beans a large portion of fish and fresh salad. More food than either girl could eat, delicious and three dollars.

Over to gas dock, fill up. Our luggage was locked up at a friends house and he wasn't answering. He spends more time in the bathroom than a thirteen year old guy. Phone call. Ok, we'll see you on the dock. Got the bags. “Want to go to a Caribbean bar? Get out of this gringo tourist stuff and hang out with some Caribbeanos? Can you swing creole? They loved the place. I stood on the dock and saw two large yellowfin tuna make for open water. A big ray hovered near the bottom.

Off to the ever popular Clydes. “I know the couple who live in that house, let's go call on them.” Grind, shudder, shake. Shit! Shallow. Coral 1, prop 0. I tried to prepare them. The usual show, mouths always open, either slack jawed or smiling their asses off. We walked the grounds, Clyde did his stint of volunteering to lather them with coconut oil. Come live with me in my tent and walk around naked all the time. It would not be a bad sight. Off to my place we failed to get a cookie sheet. Oh, well.

I told the girls to take as long a shower as they would like. Kelly obviously go the word and luxuriated for an hour. Two exhausted girls hit the bed early saying they would be up at dawn. I suspected not, the room is very comfortable and very quiet.

Kelly and Yvonne