Uninvited and Awestruck
Ensenada los Lagartos
[21:17] [Saturday, February 03, 2007]
Our daysail lasted just under two hours, and it was fantastic. However, with a dying wind and our Brits still behind exploring the tiny Rio Amatillo, we furled sail and turned around to meet up with them.
A Guatemalan fish camp and what seems to be an abandoned hostel at the mouth of Amatillo were about the extend of our excitement on a brief dink ride up the little river. Trees grew right up to shore, and then water orchids stretched from the shoreline almost clear across the river in some places. We raised anchor after our brief exploration and followed the Brits further north to Ensenada los Lagartos, a small cove a little west of El Estor.
Keeping in mind Samcharsa's deep draft, we crept into los Lagartos and managed to anchor just off a creek marked as a manatee reserve. No sooner had we shut of our engine than the roar of howler monkeys in the distance gave everyone a moment's pause.
Excited by the prospect of catching howler monkeys in action -- not to mention manatees -- Brady and I prepped the dinghy and headed up the creek.
It seems each place we visit is more pristine and wild than the last. The water, like a mirror, reflected everything almost perfectly. We encounterd exquisite plantlife and several pairs of water chickens on our journey upriver. Huge groups of blossomless lily pads and lilac-bloomed orchids tickled the sides of the dink as we buzzed along. The water chickens squatted among huge orchid ptches and fled in a flurry of green and auburn when we motored too close.
We found a place to land at the very far end of the creek. The quiet grunting of a disturbed monkey drew us whispering from the dinghy. Unfortunately we could not catch a glimpse of the ape himself, but Brady did get some footage of what might have been monkey poo. Judging by all the fairly-new cutting done where we'd landed, however, it is difficult to say if the dropping belonged to a howler or a different sort of monkey altogether, if you catch our drift.
Dismayed by the lack of monkeys or parrots or manatees, we turned around and headed home to watch the sunset. Just as we started to round the last bend, though, what appeared to be some animal's nest squirmed high in the branches of a crooked tree. We turned the dink around in something of a frenzy and cut off the outboard. A small family of howlers were nestled among the highest branches of this tree, relaxing in the evening sun. We waited patiently for some howling, but mama monkey and her baby merely stared back at us from their post at the treetop, as though asking us just who the hell we thought we were, barging in without an invite?
A pair of green parrots flitting noisily over the creek and another bee-yootiful sunset wrapped up our evening. We spent twilight hours aboard Sonatina, Peter and T's gorgeous 38-footer, chatting it up over a few drinks. Tomorrow we will take it easy, maybe getting a peek around El Estor before heading -- finally -- to the hot waterfalls.
Traveling the Land of Apocalypto
Lago de Izabal
[09:58] []
We left Mario's morning of the first after a hearty breakfast and motored to the lake. In search of a safe anchorage, we made a bee line for Denny's Beach, where several Rio vets said we could be certain we'd find no trouble.
Two other boats shared our anchorage off the beach, waving British colors. Peter and Theresa on Sonatina, and Will and Jeanine on Samcharsa, have all been in and around Guatemala seasonally for several years, and it didn't take long for us to join up with them.
Yesterday afternoon we all decided to make a circumnavigation of the lake. Sonatina had done so alone a couple years ago and explored the west end of Izabal pretty heavily. Perhaps about to sell their boat, Peter and Theresa are looking to get a final look-see around Izabal -- and no wonder! Two mountain ranges fade along the north and south horizons, and like all the rest of Guatemala we've thus far seen, they make for an amazing view.
We dropped the hook in a cove nickname El Refugio for the night. As the sun lowered slowly toward the Sierra de las Minas, Brady and I set off in the dink to get a closer look at the cove's uninhabited shore. We rowed over lily growth and a fishing net right up to land, and Brady jumped out to get a taste of the jungle.
Surrounded by chirping bird and insects and a green canopy, we rowed as close to shore as possible, soaking up the lushness of El Refugio. The only reminder we were not alone was the laughter of our boat buddies in the distance, swimming and sharing cocktails aboard Samcharsa.
We turned the dink around in time to watch the sun dip behind las Minas over our three boats. A clear sky dropped red and purple as twilight fell and, sleepy after a hot day, we retired.
This morning is overcast but quite breezy, and we've broken away from Sonatina's course awhile to enjoy some much-missed sailing. Our sails are full and the lake is vast, green and empty. It is so strange to see a lack of boats here. It seems we share this gorgeous gem only with our boat buddies.
Though alone for now among water and the silhouettes of mountains, we will meet up with the Brits near El Estor. Perhaps our daysail will leave us in a state of mind to have a few drinks in the company of friends this sunset.
The Sound of Silence
[22:21] [Wednesday, January 31, 2007]
While anchored in isolation in the gorge of the Rio, the silence around us created a kind of awesome bubble. We found ourselves whispering to each other so as not to disturb the quiet. As deep night split into dawn, activity in the jungle picked up to a medley of squawking and chirping, quite an interesting wake-up call for those of us accustomed to sleeping in.
We drank our coffee in the cockpit, listening to the early morning noise die down until only a few birds continued speaking to each other over the banks of the river. Brady could no longer contain himself, and he took up imitation.
Whistling at various pitches earned no response from the wild, so he changed his strategy and let out a hefty, "Ka-kaw!" His shout echoed over the trees and across the cliffs around us, response enough to get us laughing:
Ka-kaw!!!
Ka-kaw!!
Ka-kaw!
In true Brady fashion, he let out another, "Ka-kaw!" and we listened gleefully as his "mating call" echoed again over the Rio. It was like being a little kid on a hike through quiet hills ... He could not help himself. There was an air of both hilarity and embarassment about the outburst. We could almost feel eyes peering from the jungle at us, and all of Guatemala seemed to put its finger over its lips and say, "Stop it."
The bubble burst but our spirits lifted, we raised anchor and passed from the gorge into El Golfete ... Even then, looking out over the lake with rolling hills of brilliant green on the horizon could not have been more beautiful. It is difficult to look out from the cockpit in the morning and not be taken aback by the lushness of this place.
And even near the Marina, when the sun has just begun to wake up the jungle, there is a bubble of silence hanging over the water and the trees. Sadly, though, we are too close to civilization to break that bubble with resounding Ca-kaws. The buzzing of motorized skiffs beats us to the punch.
The people will survive
In their environment
The dirt, scarcity, and the emptiness
Of our South
The injustice of our greed
The practice we inherit
The dirt, scarcity and the emptiness
Of ourselves
There on the beach
I could see it in her eyes
I only had a Corona
[Cinco centavos deposito]
D Boon/Mike Watt/ The Minutemen
Creature Comforts Breed Complacency
[18:32] []
We have been at Mario's Marina now for several days, and actually we've spent most of our time anchored in the bay just off the "storage line" -- that is, a line of med-moored boats stored by vacationers on the Rio. This has saved us a fair penny, but we spend our last night at the Marina dockside, with our shore power cable hooked up for the first time since we shoved off from Rockport, air conditioner humming quietly, biding time before we head for Lago de Izabel in the morning.
The Marinas along the Rio are safe havens for cruisers who travel its length and through the lakes -- Golfete and Izabel. Armed guards patrol the pier and grounds at night to deter theft, and the community developed at a marina like Mario's further prevents intrusion. Staying longer than a night means an inevitable indoctrination into the family of boaters here through a variety of activities hosted at the restaurant/bar.
Knowing someone before arrival is by no means a requirement, though to be sure it helped us tremendously to have Roy and Debi with us when we went to Fronteras, the closest town. We tried to get a handle on the town by ourselves, but the combined lack of Spanish and local knowledge plus a drippy day made for a poor exploration of the main thoroughfare, and we returned to the boat wet and grumpy. The next day offered us both sun and our tour guides, and they showed us where we could expect to find what we might need while on the river at reasonable prices; not to mention Debi's semi-fluent Spanish allowed for translation and informal learning as we made our way through town.
Everything here is very raw and untouched. The fruit and vegetables are to die for -- you would not believe how crispy, colorful and flavorful the veggies are, and cheap! Granted, the "rawness" of the main street means having to watch for drivers, since there is no sidewalk, but being able to purchase produce we know for certain has not been altered by genetic engineering or bleached for the sake of sterilization makes us feel good. Really! We don't think we've ever eaten this well, even though the past few days we have taken to eating at Mario's Restaurant.
We have heard stories from several long-term "residents" here of dinghy and motor theft, as well as the occasional boarding of boats to rob the absent cruisers blind. We are not sure by now if these stories should concern us greatly or if the robbed cruisers were asking for it, but we have been given several tips on where to anchor so as to remain safe along the banks of Izabel and the Rio.
Tomorrow we plan to head into Lake Izabel, and we hope to anchor near Aguas Caliente (hot waterfalls). We have heard some great things about caves behind and near the waterfalls open for exploration, and we hope we'll be able to get a good peek around the underground caverns with the aide of a sherpa, waterproof flashlights, our snorkel gear and -- of course -- video camera in hand. Also, the hot waterfalls flow into a cool river, and the drastic temperature difference between the falls and the pool they drop into is supposed to be spectacular. Can't imagine how we couldn't have a good time!
