Although I am ready to cruise in the western Caribbean and enjoy the stellar reefs of Belize, our boat is not. Peter returned from running errands yesterday, Valentine's Day, without candy for me and with very bad news. The engine exhaust hose which he had thought would be easy to obtain in Río Dulce is not available anywhere, and he has had to order it from the States. The estimate is that it will take two weeks to get here. This is extremely frustrating for me, for while Peter will have no trouble amusing himself and keeping busy tinkering on the boat, I am looking forward to two weeks of boredom. Although it is quite pleasant where we are docked at Boatique on a back creek of the river, there is really nothing to do but enjoy the jungle scenery and swim in the pool. I can't even go for walks because we are surrounded by water; I can kayak, but that only takes up a small part of the day. I can and will study Spanish more and read books, but these sedentary activities become boring after a while.
While we brought back from the States many items we needed for the boat (an extra 100 pounds of luggage), Peter did not purchase and return with a piece of flexible exhaust pipe even though he knew we absolutely had to have it because he had heard that there was a shop in Río that sold pipe and tubing , and there is a small West Marine here also. When we went to town together three days ago, we searched out the pipe shop. When inquired about what we needed, the man behind the counter pointed to a small heap of rubber hoses of various lengths and diameters in a dusty pile on the concrete floor by the street. There was nothing we could use; the slim inventory consisted of rubber tubing for big truck engines, not suitable for marine use and not flexible. The next day, Peter acquired a piece of tubing at West Marine, but when he tried to install it, he found it would not bend to fit in the space. Of course, he had to take out the old exhaust pipe first, and it cannot be re-installed. It is in even worse shape than he expected. So there is no way we can move the boat, because we cannot maneuver out of here under sail!
Over a day and a half, while Peter was out running errands, I worked on a tedious job, emptying out various containers of spare hardware from the engine room and sorting by type, size and other characteristics screws, nuts, bolts, washers, cotter pins, hinges and other items that have accumulated for more than 25 years on the boat and been stored in a haphazard manner. Now I have no table in the saloon, and it is anyone's guess how long it will be until Peter has decided how he wants to store them. I thought of my son Matthew, who, based on the expertise and qualifications he acquired through AP Psychology in high school, has diagosed me as suffering from OCD. This is certainly the perfect task for it!
So, while I am ranting, I would also like to discuss restaurants and vegetarianism. Peter really wanted to go to a nearby restaurant for Valentine's Day, joining another couple we had just met. We ate at Dreamcatchers a few nights ago, and I was not that impressed but he was, so I agreed to go. It had been announced on the morning cruisers' net that the restaurant was taking reservations and would be offering three entree selections, including a vegetarian option. When we arrived, we found the options were dead cow, dead tuna and dead shrimp (my description, not their fancy ones). The option I, as a vegetarian, had was for them to leave the shrimp out of the pasta dish. I felt it was misleading to say that a vegetarian dish would be available. We assumed that the chef would be taking time to create a recipe, procure ingredients and prepare something distinctly and deliciously vegetarian. I am sorry, but removing ingredients and charging the same price for less food (and the protein is the most expensive ingredient) is not in any way catering to vegetarians. It merely exhibits disrepect and disdain for vegetarians. And, just to make the experience more wonderful last night, a black bug appeared and then burrowed into my food when the plate was presented!
At least I was briefly delighted yesterday watching golden mantled howler monkeys cavorting in the branches of the trees around here.
While we brought back from the States many items we needed for the boat (an extra 100 pounds of luggage), Peter did not purchase and return with a piece of flexible exhaust pipe even though he knew we absolutely had to have it because he had heard that there was a shop in Río that sold pipe and tubing , and there is a small West Marine here also. When we went to town together three days ago, we searched out the pipe shop. When inquired about what we needed, the man behind the counter pointed to a small heap of rubber hoses of various lengths and diameters in a dusty pile on the concrete floor by the street. There was nothing we could use; the slim inventory consisted of rubber tubing for big truck engines, not suitable for marine use and not flexible. The next day, Peter acquired a piece of tubing at West Marine, but when he tried to install it, he found it would not bend to fit in the space. Of course, he had to take out the old exhaust pipe first, and it cannot be re-installed. It is in even worse shape than he expected. So there is no way we can move the boat, because we cannot maneuver out of here under sail!
Over a day and a half, while Peter was out running errands, I worked on a tedious job, emptying out various containers of spare hardware from the engine room and sorting by type, size and other characteristics screws, nuts, bolts, washers, cotter pins, hinges and other items that have accumulated for more than 25 years on the boat and been stored in a haphazard manner. Now I have no table in the saloon, and it is anyone's guess how long it will be until Peter has decided how he wants to store them. I thought of my son Matthew, who, based on the expertise and qualifications he acquired through AP Psychology in high school, has diagosed me as suffering from OCD. This is certainly the perfect task for it!
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| My accomplishment! |
At least I was briefly delighted yesterday watching golden mantled howler monkeys cavorting in the branches of the trees around here.
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| Blurry photo of monkey. They would not pose! |
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