Looking around our new, temporary, home, here's what we see downstream. The Caribbean is down the river less than a mile away, but we're well insulated from most of its effects, it seems
and up this little branch stream - the cockpit view toward the mountains on a lovely morning. With all these fishing boats around it's easy to forget that there's a land-based nation quite near, but tonight the clouds ahead of the latest cold front are all that can be seen inland.
The views to the east and west are less romantic, but we'll get to them another time.
Meanwhile, here in the shipyard, Doug is focused on dismantling the old engine. It's sad, really, to be taking it apart simply because it wasn't modern, or might break down in mid-Pacific. Why, someone might say the same about me!
But no, I'm secure on the 'keeper' list. For one thing, I am taking advantage of all this water and space to do a thorough spring cleaning. Truth be told, it's the first thorough and methodical cleaning and re-shuffling we've done since we left a year and a half ago. I'm washing clothes, and even foul weather gear, now that I've got a small but unending trickle of fresh water. The boat was clean, by my standards, when we got it, and we haven't trashed it much. Opinions may vary, however.
The Westerbeke is looking less desirable every day. We're beginning to accumulate boxes of hoses and 'beke bits tagged with blue masking tape labels. Doug sits in there all day long scratching his head and sighing. I think we should have a de-engining ceremony, but how to design it?
The Music Whore's Over-Stuffed Ipod on shuffle offered up opera, so Doug dueted an aria Where Did This Wire Come From? and the refrain, Stop Skinning My Knuckles.
Meanwhile, outside, there's a local woman singing - if she isn't famous, she should be. She knows all the words, and what a voice! The big motor yacht with the big speakers is broadcasting a soccer game which even has me excited with every R trilled for at least five seconds. SCCCOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEE!!!!!!!!