Out to Sea

Might try to revive the blog as I head to sea soon. There may be good adventures to share. Standby.

October Adventures

Fall in Virginia is a good time. The leaves can't touch those in northern New England, but they look nice all the same, the nights are cool and the days are warm...or mostly...but we'll get to that in a minute. It seems we've spent the better part of our October weekends exploring the western half of the Commonwealth--I'm beginning to think it is actually the better half. Needless to say, our outdoor monkeys have been happy to go along for the ride, even if saltiness was at a minimum.

Our first trip was to Sherando Lake a few weeks ago. We were excited to test run our plush new car-camping abode, the REI Kingdom, aka "The Kingdome." It did not disappoint--but geez, those big tents just aren't very warm!

We did a scenic and aptly-named hike called Cold Mountain while "out that way." The top is managed as a meadow, so the views were lovely to the east and west and the animals got to run, run, run. We hardly saw any other people, which was also pretty cool.

On the ride back to camp, we decided to use our portable electronic device to check-in on the weather forecast, as it was now cold AND rainy, and The Kingdome was still on its maiden voyage, with its weatherliness (is that a word?) untested. "Well, the good news is that it does not appear to be raining at the campground. The bad news is that it appears to be snowing just west of us." Awesome. The dress was going to have to make way for the stretchy pants and all the fleece I could muster, seeing as how I left all the down puffy clothes at home. Needless to say, we survived; although, we did opt for a hasty morning retreat to one of Charlottesville's finer breakfast locales over bacon and eggs in the 38 degree pouring rain. One trip down, The Kingdome survived the deluge and kept us mostly warm and dry, and we did a nice hike and ate some very tasty grub.

We took a week off from western exploration in favor of staying local and hosting our visiting friend NPK. After some Colonial meandering, the two of us hopped on the bikes and headed to Jamestown to find out what really did go on there (to think that we've lived here for almost 3 years and I am finally getting around to checking it out is, well, maybe testament to how I feel about these historical pursuits--but, to prove I am interested, I am forcing myself to read a book about the James River and its history...it could take all year). Anyway, it was interesting, but the awesome dinner we all cooked and the beer and wine we drank and the backyard fire-pit chatting was more so. Some things aren't easily changed.

A week later, one of us was off being tough while running the Tough Mudder at Wintergreen (he IS tough!). The rest of us stayed local and headed for some outdoor wanderings at York River State Park. This place always seems deserted, but has great trails and good over-the-river and through-the-woods walking. My muddy friends seemed thrilled with the prospect of baths...or maybe they just didn't understand the implications of covering themselves in mud and rolling in dead things, but they did plenty of both. The Marlownator also discovered the hazards of walking through salt marshes--he created a giant muddy splash in the random channel that snuck up on him as he bounded through the Spartina grasses. Good fun.

And that brings us to the end of the month and our most recent exploits. Several months ago in a fit of needing to "get out," I booked the only available campsite for the only available dates at Douthat State Park in the very western part of the state. A friend of ours is from Bath County and we have heard how beautiful it is and I was eager to check it out for myself. Plus, the end of October promised nice weather and beautiful leaves. Well, we got one part of that right.

After a long drive, we got into the campground kind of late, with just enough daylight to set up The Kingdome, walk the dogs a bit, and cook up some dinner. The trouble was that, right after we crossed the Blue Ridge Parkway, it started snowing and we watched the temperature plummet from 55 to 31 degrees over the next hour and 50 miles. Yikes. Getting out of the car was not all that fun, but we were highly efficient in camp set-up, ate some food, and snuggled into our, thankfully, very high quality and very warm sleeping bags! The precipitation that hit the tent all night ranged from rain to snow and everything in between, but not being that enthusiastic about freezing my ass off, I decided not to even peek out until 6:30 when the dogs decided they were ready for the day. I opened the tent and saw snow on the ground and a lot of steam rising off the lake (unfortunately, I forgot the camera and I am not all that dazzled by the iPhone's photographic ability).

The Kingdome had withstood the snow load (it rolled off nicely all night long) and we had stayed toasty warm, especially with our two furry friends nestled among us. After a quick morning romp, even the dogs decided that maybe another hour in the warm confines of the down-laden Kingdome was the best option. Someone wasted no time finding the one vacant sleeping bag. She is cunning.

We stalled a bit, decided that we were not above, yet-again, skipping the Coleman stove breakfast in favor of the hot one the park restaurant could provide, and headed out. The food was simple, cheap, and the staff very willing to throw us a warm-beverage bone by filling up two thermoses and a travel mug--we liked that and left probably the largest breakfast tip ever, but full thermoses were worth it! By the time we finished up, the clouds were breaking and we had decided not to abandon our 7-mile hike up Beards Mountain, so went back to the campsite to pack our bag, don our boots, and have ourselves a little pre-hike pep rally of sorts.

It was a bit of a snowy walk, but nothing we weren't prepared to handle. In fact, it was beautiful, and as the sky continued to clear, we got some beautiful territorial views, made all the more scenic by the layer of snow blanketing them--and then it melted and the golden hues of fall took over. And in 7.1 miles, we saw one other group of people. Nice! This meant plenty of running for the furry friends, who are learning to be good trail citizens and have been practicing their "check-in" and "stay-close" commands, despite the lack of fellow travelers. They were in heaven, and didn't even mind being pelted by the occasional snowball. The fog rolled in and out, but all in all, it was turning out to be a nice day, albeit about 20 degrees cooler than we figured for this time of year! And the hills got the blood flowing and cold was no longer really a problem--funny how that works! The trails are very well maintained, so props to the park staff for that!

On the way back to the campsite, we stopped at park headquarters for some more "sticks," having burned through a few the night before and sensing that some warmth may be a good thing, as Martha says. 

Besides the camp site fee, the $5.25 per dog per day pet fee (WTF?!!!), and the $4-for-10-sticks firewood fee (and they really were "sticks"), I think we single-handedly improved the economy of the Commonwealth (organized camping has its downsides, including the close quarters and manicured lawns of the campground, besides the fees, but I can't say I minded the heated bathrooms for the late night trips on this one!). Next time maybe we'll spring for a cabin--Douthat has many of the original CCC cabins that were built in the 1930s when the park was developed. A true treasure. Too bad we, as a nation, can't undertake that kind of economic development again! The stonework and construction from that time always amazes me whenever I see those projects. 

We enjoyed an afternoon relaxing by the fire, an early dinner (a KS camping favorite of pierogies--only more deluxe as they were accompanied by brats and rotkraut!) and a few hot toddies to cap off the night before snuggling back into our downy cocoon. Another successful adventure in a newly discovered area. Yea, adventures!

Marlowe and the Marlownados

Wow. It's been so long, I've forgotten how to do this.

Where were we...oh, right, who cares?

While the title of this post sounds like a 50s Doo-wop band, it is not. It is merely a description of the most recent atmospheric phenomenon in my life: the wreckage left by a 9 month old puppy, namely, Marlowe (The Marlinator) Acer Nelcinski, DOB: 12/24/2010, date acquired: mid-February 2011.

So, how did this cute, adorable, fuzz-bucket of a beast, become the cause for so much trouble?

Hmmmm...a full set of chompers, puppy-like energy, and apparently a lot of office-supplies and household goods that needed modification. But let's back up.

So, it all began with a puppy cam. Conceptually, we had been discussing a friend for The Salty One for quite some time, especially now that she's subjected to heat more often than not (we are a family of humidity-haters, longing for temperate zones the world over) and she doesn't get to get as salty as she once did. While we all loved long walks on North Beach, they are no more, and we haven't found a suitable replacement--one where dogs can run and people can walk until they pretty much get tired or run out of daylight. So sad. So, there was the puppy cam with an adorable litter of piggy-like fluff-balls and 2 months later our "Dog Conceptual Model" became reality, thanks to a great rescue organization called New Spirit 4 Aussie Rescue. Now the dogs outnumber people (at least in terms of legs).

The Salty One took no shit at first--she really taught The Marlinator a thing or two about being a dog: no chewing shoes, no jumping on furniture, and don't you dare eat my food, you little puppy twit. She was the consummate "helper dog" if ever there was one. But it seems, as of late, she has tired of the enforcement role (after all, she has proved her position as alpha dog), all the while enhancing her position as A#1 playmate (don't tell her we know, but we have seen her egging on The Marlinator on many occasions--she likes to play coy, but we see what's really going on).

This role, understandably, takes a lot of energy.

So, while we made it through 8.5 months with nary an issue, even in the last two months when he was at-large for whole work-days, and we passed two obedience classes with flying colors, our sweet, little guy has decided to bring out his inner devil. Really? Really?

And as a result, we have had one Marlownado after another this week.

First, there was the attack of the orange Post-It notes. While artfully displayed around the living room, it wasn't really clear what he was trying to remind himself of.

Next came the attack of the two-way tape. Unfortunately, no photo evidence was obtained from that event; however, the suspect was quickly apprehended when the investigators noticed several lengths of said tape stuck to various parts of his body (poetic justice?). This event also resulted in the untimely demise of some slippers and the Bose remote control (which I'm sure can be replaced at an insurmountable cost, sticking with the typical Bose M.O.). 

A 45-minute errand led to complete and total destruction of the NY Times sports section. It was as if he was beginning a paper mache project (thanks, Dad) and needed the bits of paper chopped up all nice and bite-sized. Note the irony of the empty dog crate in the background of this picture! Haha...joke's on us.

And, most recently, the up-ending of a handbag resulted in the shredding of several tissues and the destruction of lip balm and hand cream--both of which were seemingly consumed during the process. Should be a fun night.

So, there you have it. After recovering from Hurricane Irene and the resulting dismantling of the refrigerator and freezer due to almost 6 days without power, so thankful to escape the fate of fallen trees and household damage, we are now struck by episodic Marlownados. Methinks the young lad hath earned himself solitary confinement in a dog crate for a few weeks (minimum sentence due to lack of value of the objects destroyed)!

That aside, the fact of the matter is, he is an entertaining, lovable, little guy, with an endearing wonky ear and some limbs and a body he hasn't quite fully grown into yet (will he ever?). He loves all people and seemingly loves other dogs, and most of all, has the same exuberance we so admire in his older sister. He enjoys eating bugs, playing fetch, cuddling up for a nice nap and I'm sure eventually, he too, will like long walks on the beach. Also, like his sister, squirrels just drive him crazy!

Written by request for my #1 Fan.

Snow, snow, snow

Well, the weather weasels got it right this time: about 8" of white stuff seems to be coming down. All the stars aligned and we awoke to the beginnings of a nice snow dump this morning and by noon we judged there to be enough white fluff on the ground that we forced our little buddy into a harness, hauled out the cross-country skis, and hitched her up for a little out-the-door schussing...okay, maybe not in the high-speed, downhill, traditional sense, but in the flat mid-Atlantic sense! Still the emphasis should be on "out-the-door." Amazing!


It took us a mile or so to get our skijoring mojo on, but soon enough we were blazing trail and eating up path-miles...until said companion got snow balls in her toe-furs, and then we needed to do some maintenance. But only for a minute. The passing snow plows were cause for some level of curiosity too-not something our Salty Dog has experienced all that much!




By the time we rounded the corner for home, we were all relatively snow encrusted, but still had enough left in the tank for a few high speed passes down the 65' long driveway--sadly, the largest hill we encountered in our ski-propelled travels. But with cold weather forecast for the remainder of the weekend, I predict we may venture a but further afield for more adventures, provided the neophyte southern snow drivers don't scare us off! At any rate, smiles all around, in spite of the toe-fur snowballs!

The Rest of the Story

The Panamanian adventure left off with Astarte having a restocked pantry and the intrepid travelers heading onto their next journey--a trip to the jungle. We had arranged for a guy to take us by lancha (skiff) to Rio Carti (pretty much south of where we were but on the mainland), where we had arranged for transportation to the jungle lodge. The lancha ride was smooth---and NO RAIN! We got taken to one of the Carti islands and dropped off--I expressed some concern about not being on the mainland and needing to meet a driver (my Spanish was improving!). I was told we had to wait for another boat to take us up the river. So we did and got a good look at life in a Kuna village while we waited. Eventually, this other boat came--it was quite similar to the lancha, but driven by others, presumably willing to take more of our money. So, off we went, up the river.

I was envisioning our destination being a little village up the river. With each passing bend in the river, crocodile, iguana, low-hanging tree branch, and local, I was beginning to think we might be starring in a re-adpatation of "Heart of Darkness." Don't get me wrong, I actually kind of like Joseph Conrad, but really, I was beginning to wonder when we passed the Kuna cemetery and saw a few empty boats along the river banks.

Eventually, we slowed down and the guy asked me if I was going by car--when the answer was affirmative, we pulled to the side of the river and sure enough, there was a road and our guy, Michael was waiting. No town, no telephone, and definitely no rental car agency! We loaded up our packs and began the ascent of the Llano-Carti road--what a trip. It is in the process of being rebuilt, and after having seen the video of what it used to be like, it now looks like a super-highway. But it was like a roller coaster. We stopped and snapped a few pictures and had our first jungle wildlife encounter: an anteater! Very cool.

We got to Burbayar Lodge and had some lunch and went out on our first jungle hike. Michael turned out to be our guide as well as our driver and he was very good, pointing out all sorts of very tiny frogs, ants with very painful bites (bullet ants), and telling us about the many birds and plants we saw. We saw our first sloth but were told our hopes of seeing capybaras (the aforementioned ROUSes) wouldn't be realized because they stay in the lowlands. Oh well.

We survived that outing and must have proved ourselves well enough to get taken on a much longer, more difficult hike the following day. Keep in mind, it has rained a lot and the forest floor was a mud pit--we were given Wellie boots and walking sticks at the get go, but the muddy conditions meant lots of awkward slides (but no wipeouts!). We walked for about 3 hours out to a beautiful waterfall and were really impressed when Michael called in a few birds for us--very neat!

The lodge itself was a bit more rustic than what we had figured on (based upon the rather exorbitant price)--no electricity, we had running water but not hot nor potable, and one of the most uncomfortable beds I've ever slept on! And the bugs were a bit creepy--with no bug net around the bed, reading by headlamp at night was not an option! Lights=bugs. But of course we lived to tell the tale and our early consumption of the non-potable-but-not-advertised-as-such water hasn't rendered us bound to the bathroom...yet, anyway!

We left the jungle still wanting to see howler monkeys (we had heard and smelled them, but not seen them) and of course, capybaras. We got our bird fill--the hummingbirds of many varieties were like kamikazes flying around the main building and dining table. And the toucans and parrots were abundant. Some of the smaller songbirds were really beautiful and this jungle experience did give me a new appreciation for birds, even if I can't remember any of their names. I'm sure the typical clientele comes with spotting scopes, Swarovski binoculars, etc.--we had some point and shoot cameras and a cheap pair of backpacking binos, but they did the trick for us.

Our final day got rained out (seemed to be the theme of the trip), so we didn't get our last hike in, and we headed back to Panama City for some city exploring and a trip to Gamboa and the Parque Nacional Soberania. There we finally did see our howler monkeys--very cool. And they really do swing on vines! We'll have to make another trip to Central or South America to finally see a Rodent of Unusual Size.

Abondanza of Vegetable and Schmutz

Well, on our final day, we awoke to the sun shining, the call of the conch telling us bread was ready at the local island tienda, and the long-awaited vegetable boat visiting the anchorage only one boat away! When it rains, it pours. We had heard of the mythical sun and the vegetable boat over the last week or so, and apparently both are not just figments of the cruisers' imaginations! To top it all off, Michael managed to catch a pineapple floating in the anchorage on his way from retrieving the bread-free food (albeit not of the piscine protein sort!).

We enjoyed our first "dinghy raft up" cocktail hour the other night. This seems to be purely an American thing since none of the foreigners (well, aren't we all???) in the anchorage joined in. The Brit anchored next to us seemed profoundly confused by the concept of the whole thing when we explained it to him and declined, but overall it was nice to hear people's stories and exchange all the dips and snacks that were offered-we also enjoyed watching Nigel, the boat dog, negotiate the dinghies and try for some passed snacks.

Yesterday we tried snorkeling the reef off of Tiadup again and instead of eagle rays, squid, and colorful fish, we ended up feeling like we were swimming in the sewer system-plastic bags, river and ocean schmutz, and some flip flops (which our hosts have decided are ruining the planet, along with plastic bottles, and I don't disagree). Some sort of weird current is creating mats of flotsam (aka The Sargasso Sea) in the anchorage, but even when we got outside the reef there was just a lot of crap in the water and it seemed fresh as well-bummer. But, the poor conditions were not all bad because it sent us off exploring and we found a few other spots that definitely deserved a look and provided us with our colorful fish fix for the day!

So while the weather hasn't exactly been anything to write home about, we've managed plenty of relaxing: reading, playing games (I was officially the big dominoes loser!), and just sitting and chatting over rum drinks and drizzling rain. We got a few good snorkeling group adventures in and saw lots of beautiful sites around Kuna Yala. I'm sure this is one of those areas where "you should have been here 10 years ago…" but the culture (and molas) seems vibrant and there aren't so many other boats that you can't find a parking spot with an unspoiled view (Michael did score us the penthouse suite in our present anchorage-until the current changed direction, and now we're in the basement).

A big thanks to Barbara and Michael for graciously letting us invade their space, maintaining Astarte in excellent form, keeping us well fed and hydrated, and for showing us how this whole cruising thing works. And in spite of our contributions of nuts, pasta, peanut butter, and fishing tackle, we still left them with less beer and rum in their hold than they had when we came aboard, so I'm hoping the supply boats manage more regular appearances! All in all, I'm thinking cruising is a pretty nice gig!

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Lobster Amnesty

While we are all suckers for good sea critters (both to look at and to eat), we've noticed that the locals are selling some pretty tiny lobsters in these parts. Barbara and Michael had been selective about choosing the big daddies prior to our arrival, but as they entered the more popular anchorages, it seemed the mean size of the offerings was decreasing. This prompted some jokes about buying lobsters and throwing them back-ridiculous in concept, but not unlike what some non-profits are doing with commercial fishing shares in parts of the world.

So when an ulu came by the other day selling crabs and lobsters among other things, we took the bait and purchased 2 crabs and 6 lobsters, most of which were quite small. It was then decided that the two smallest lobsters would accompany us on our afternoon group outing to the reef and be freed. Ridiculous? Perhaps. But it made for a good adventure, trying to find the perfect rock hole for the repatriated langostas. They seemed content (if not a bit dazed) upon arrival on their new reef and we're hoping they will live long(er) and prosper. Their relatives tasted quite good.

As for other wildlife sightings, we saw some reef squid and a few spotted eagle rays, one wearing the bonus of a remora. The reef fish seem to be plentiful here and the corals are quite bright. We're hoping for a bit more sun so that we can get in some last bubble blowing tomorrow.

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"No One's Given Me The Clap Yet"

We've left Moron Island and are glad all are aboard. Unfortunately, our trip up the Rio Sidra with Lisa to see crocodiles (and potentially a ROUS) was bust due to some bad storms. So we idled away the rainy day and went ashore on Moron to do some exploring of our own-no crocodiles or ROUSes there and we were glad to leave the rain and murky water behind.

We're now a week into our time on Astarte and have settled into the cruising routine a bit. With this we have acquired specific "jobs." I use that term loosely because it's quite clear that Barbara and Michael have the real jobs dialed and we just try to fill in where we can. As such, Anchor Boy came to life. One of the critical aspects of any type of boating is anchoring; this task becomes even more critical when the boat is your home, reefs are lurking all around, and you want a good night's sleep, free of worry about whether your anchor will hold if it starts to blow. So, to assure a set anchor, someone usually dives in to approve or disapprove the way the anchor came to rest (the joy of the tropics!). Mark, with superb diving abilities, decided this job was right up his alley. With a clap of the hands from Barbara or Michael to signal the appropriate time, Mark dives in and comes back with a full and detailed report of the anchor's position and security. A non-perfect report gets a haul back and reset of the anchor. After our 3rd anchoring attempt at Moron Island, Mark, with fins on and mask in hand, said, "Do I go? No one's given me the clap yet." "I think that's a good thing," was the wife's response.

We're now anchored in one of the "popular" anchorages in Kuna Yala: The East Lemmon Islands. It is kind of like living in a condo complex with the many boats and many people creating plenty of entertainment in the anchorage. We did a nice snorkel yesterday and will try for one or two new spots today. Yesterday we managed a lunch of lobster and a dinner of crab cakes, so, life is good.

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The Great Lion Hunt of 2009=?ISO-8859-1?Q?=85?=and other adventures.

There had been some discussion prior to our arrival about the introduction of the lionfish to the Caribbean and what that meant for the local fishes and human swimmers. Forewarned, we brought with us some information on recognizing and reporting these beautiful but invasive and poisonous critters, and also some hints for what to do if you come in contact with them-ouch. After posting the info with the Kuna congreso and announcing it over the Net (a sort of morning radio talk show whereby some people convey pertinent information and others like to hear themselves talk), we figured we were done with it…and besides we had failed the 1st (and only) inquiry for the "professional marine biologists:" What is the incubation period of hawksbill turtle eggs? (The answer is about 6 weeks and at least the question wasn't about %^#&@^ dolphins!)

That failure aside, Mark and I went on a swimming circumnavigation of Olosicuidup upon arrival at the Coco Banderos (the Coco B's)-a very beautiful group of palm-clad islas with turquoise water and cool birds. We got most of the way around, seeing the ordinary cast of characters, when we saw an unusual stump in about 8' of water. Mark dove down and found a lionfish tucked within the root wad. Thus began the Great Lion Hunt of 2009…

After a re-anchoring to take advantage of the primo spot in the small anchorage, Michael grabbed his spear gun and he and Mark set out to slay the dragon. They did in fact manage to slaughter the wily beast*, dragging it through the waves to shore where they shook it vigorously from the spear and gave it a proper burial after pounding it to bits (by the way, this activity is deemed completely appropriate by said "professional marine biologists" given the invasive nature of the beastie-and the PMBs are decidedly better versed in fishes than turtles).

So, to reward our heroic men for making the ocean safer for both man and (other) beasts, we celebrated by having a delicious dinner of sentoya, a local crab that looks like a cross between an Alaskan king crab and a red rock crab and tastes wicked good-and at the fair price of 2 for $5 we couldn't go wrong-except that the shells were hard, very hard!

Another night in the Coco B's saw us trying for a quick snorkel and then a departure for Moron Island-we are pretty sure at least part of the crew may find their people (that would be the part of the crew that repeatedly bangs body parts on any boat part that happens to be standing by)!

*Note: The referenced wily beast was approximately three inches, approximately the size of your neighborhood goldfish…"its fins were REALLY big though"…and those are the poisonous parts!

November 21, 2009

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Molas, Crocodiles, Late-night Visitors, and Rain

It's been an eventful few days here on Astarte, not the least of which was a humdinger of a squall last night at the convenient hour of 0230! Yuck. The dinghy has subsequently been bailed twice and still has a bit of water. The good news is that the water tanks are full, with water to spare! And our drying clothes got a second dousing while on the line. The bad news is that the squall wasn't the end of it and we continue to see the rain fall…and that once crystal water around Green Island has turned to mud. Yuck times two.

Backing up a bit, we did have an encounter with Lisa, "master mola maker and infamous transvestite" (as per The Panama Cruising Guide) before leaving the Lemmons. Barbara has written a bit about the Kuna's propensity for approaching boats and selling their wares. Having read about Lisa just a few hours earlier, I couldn't help but be intrigued enough to see her molas and chat her up (her English is quite good). And she had some very intricate molas. I'm not really a connoisseur and know nothing about the fabric arts (hell, I can hardly sew a button), but luckily the guide books tell you what to look for. My hopes of finding a Mola mola mola (yes, there's a fish joke in there) weren't realized but we did pick up a few nice ones and a very kitchy mola beer coozie! We'll hang with Lisa again when we talk a river tour in a few days.

Still no joy in the fishing world. We've heard reports of a crocodile (a wee pup at 5' in length) in the vicinity-he seems to be a bit of a local legend. Combined with the murky water, the snorkeling potential is rapidly declining, as you may imagine! We were hoping the murky water might lead to some fishing luck (it is looking more like Chesapeake Bay or the Gulf than that gin-clear water we were lured by), but alas even the changing conditions can't dumb down the local stocks enough to take a bite.

Lastly, we heard the saddest tale of woe last evening when we were approached by two Kunas well after dark. They arrived in the midst of yet another squall. They had been out collecting coconuts (Kuna currency, forbidden to visitors) and as they were paddling for home, their ulu (canoe) was upended. While these boats are very cool, we witnessed their lack of stability when the Kuna man selling octopus toppled out of his earlier in the day while trying to close the deal with us-he came to the surface with the octos held high! At any rate, the guys lost all their cocos, one canoe paddle, and some pride. The younger of the two (15) was a bit scared by the whole episode and they decided we were a safe bet. So, they got cookies and coffee, a towel, some shelter, and time to regain their courage while they waited for a weather window to make the 3 hour paddle home (not sure if that was calculated with 1 paddle or two?). The older one (20) was fluent in Spanish so we chatted a bit, at which point we learned about the crocodiles, turtles, and white sharks (though we're thinking some kind of reef shark) in the area-this story was further compounded by a side note whereby their dog had recently been eaten by a crocodile. Hmmmm. Barbara and I (the cynics in this case) just couldn't help but wonder if we were being put on! At any rate, it makes for a good story!

We're hoping for some clearer air and water tomorrow, but are content to read and sip rum punches for the time being.

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Porvenir or Bust

Guests Aboard Astarte, Comarca de Kuna Yala, Panama

Buenos dias! After struggling with my ever-diminishing Spanish skills in Panama City for a day and a half and finding the only $4 beers in the whole country, I was glad to board the plane to El Porvenir. Check-in was fairly simple at the airport (the former American military base in the Canal Zone). They bilked us for our extra luggage (gringo surcharge??), but not too bad, and we didn't have to leave all those nuts and that Dunkin' Donuts coffee we acquired as gifts behind! Security is considerably lax and they only asked to see the rum we had in our handbags-really, they looked at it and gave back to us. It was a bit disconcerting to see 5 guys standing around fixing the plane before we boarded, but we trusted the pilot and when he gave the okay, we boarded.

While the small size of the Twin Otter we were directed to was no surprise, what we didn't know about was the size of the runway in Porvenir. I'm pretty sure it would be considered a palm-lined driveway in some neighborhoods. The dude had won the window seat, which left him scanning for coral reefs. I got the aisle seat, which left me looking at the cockpit controls and the approach. I can't say I didn't utter a "Dios mio" under my breath when I saw this thing! We skidded to a halt 50 feet before the beach on the far side. B and M were there to meet us and M said he saw some pretty green folks deplane-I don't think we were among them, but I'm glad to be avoiding that runway on our return trip. Of course, he just flew back to Porvenir and didn't mutter anything about this runway-obviously he is tougher than I when it comes to sketchy airports! A great start to this adventure, at any rate.

We checked in with the Kuna congreso who lightened our pockets a bit and then it was off to the boat to chill with some coffee and breakfast snacks and watch the rain storms roll in. And it rained. But then it cleared and we took off for the West Lemmons-and as we were approaching, another rainstorm rolled in and this one was serious tropical rain. B bore the brunt of it, being on reef watch on the bow. Though, with a track-line to follow, we anchored without much ado, got settled, and took off snorkeling in the afternoon.

After a scrumptious dinner of lobster and pasta, some good times meeting the Tumshis, and several glasses of wine, we all crashed at cruisers midnight (which fits my sleeping patterns perfectly). A little bit of rain kept us on our toes during the night, but all and all a good rest was had by all.

Today we moved on to Green Island which is a picture perfect Caribbean island. We did a nice long snorkel in the afternoon and Mark and I tried to make up for the lack of fishing joy we had on the passage by trying again from the dinghy-so far we're not bringing much luck to Astarte to go along with all that tackle we brought…there's always tomorrow…

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The Calm Amidst the Storm

If you're on the eastern seaboard and have a pulse, you probably know that we're getting battered by a nice nor'easter here in Chesapeake Bay--winds gusting in the 50s, tides many feet above normal, power flickering intermittently, and those trees we probably should have cut down living dangerously and threatening us with every gust.

I have been keeping a keen eye on the NOAA tidal predictions/observations and laughed out loud when I received an e-mail stating that "Today's seminar about rising sea levels has been cancelled due to rising sea levels." If inquiring minds want to know, the real-time data can be found here or here.

But, despite the turmoil outdoors, I decided to crank the heat and hunker down to do some reading and just lay low. It is actually quite peaceful and for the first time in many weeks I don't feel like a chicken with its head cut off! In addition, I actually have some time to pack the remaining items for Panama and make sure I practice those few key Spanish phrases that may prevent humiliation...or at least interrupted travel plans!

Lagging Baggage

As we are in the midst of prepping for our great Panamanian adventure (for a taster check out Barbara and Michael's blog), I recently purchased some airline tickets for domestic (Panamanian) travel. Recognizing that the planes would be tiny, I had to investigate the baggage policy to make sure we knew our weight limits. The translation just cracked me up, and so, for a good laugh, I'm posting it here...and I assure you, my ability to translate the intent of such a message from English to Spanish would have been no better, seeing as how I've already confused some nouns and probably requested goats instead of transportation--still it's good for a laugh:

International flights Lost Baggage

First and foremost we apologize for any inconvenience caused.

If you are seeing this page is because his luggage was lost.

You should have submitted a claim by that baggage, which for some reason is lagging in some airport or was mistakenly delivered to another passenger.

The airline tells you to fill out the form, which was the procedure, however if you have any suggestions or questions you do about your baggage please send email to: XXXXXX with the number of claims, which 'll taste immediate response on the investigations.

Summer Highlights

As I sit celebrating the equinox, the official end of summer (even though the fashion police would have you thinking Labor Day was it, when you officially stored your white shoes and seersucker suit), I couldn't help but revisit some of the finer moments of the summer by getting back on the blogwagon.

Major summer endeavors included: our bourgeoning garden, field work for both halves (MN's was much more "adventure on the high seas" than mine, but I got to sleep in my own bed every night), maintaining a comfortable yet inexpensive temperature in the house, playing and watching lots of tennis, and a little travel here and a little travel there. All in all, we didn't die of heat stroke and we managed plenty of weekend adventure despite our geographic location.

The garden turned out pretty well, with much success in our first attempt to grow warm-climate crops like peppers. We had great success with the cayennes, but I think my favorite was the Italian sweet Corno di toro pepper--delicious.

The tomatoes started off with a bang and grew, and grew, and grew. Unfortunately, they grew huge but didn't exactly become laden with fruit as we had hoped. We did get a few delicious Cherokee Purples, which were similar to a Brandywine but I think even more flavorful. They are a keeper and will make the cut next year. We also had a bumper crop of basil, with staggered planting so as to keep us in the money all summer long. The combination of the tomatoes and basil led to many an Insalata Caprese. We did lose our parsley to a family of swallowtail butterfly caterpillars--an early crushing of one, led to amnesty for the rest and one decimated parsley plant! These guys seemingly eat their weight in a day!


In other critter news, we did have a Wild Kingdom moment--Marlin Perkins wasn't there to narrate, but I was, and I could hardly contain myself when I saw the snake I had been watching go for broke after a toad clear across the yard. Snake 1, Toad 0.


Our furry 4-legged critter didn't dig the heat and humidity much and on more than one occasion I found myself adjusting the thermostat downward on her behalf--she is spoiled. In the end I figured the cost of the AC was minimal compared to a trip to the vet to patch up all her bare spots! Perhaps she'll get shorn next summer to make the Virginia heat a little easier to bear. She did find some solace in beach-going--the water seemed to suit her as well as the Pacific, though she was a bit confused when her people got in it too.

As for the travels, I had high hopes for the girls' backpacking trip to the Bigelow Range--sadly, the weather made for not such a great outdoor experience and the end-of-trip Geary's were consumed a bit short of their planned date. The moose didn't seem to mind the rain and cold though, so our trip wasn't without one good wildlife sighting. I'm pretty sure next year a desert trip is in order--or at least something in an arid climate!

Even in the desert southwest it rains though. We made it to CO for a short trip to see some pals and explore a bit. Highlights from that adventure included a biking brewery tour of Fort Collins, many breakfasts at Lucile's, and a nice (but partly rainy) hike up to Emerald Lake and a view of Tyndall Glacier (or what was left of it). The air is thin at 10,500' but we must have been in better shape than we thought or the adrenaline took over, because it didn't seem all that bad!

And, lest we neglect our "home" state, we did manage a recent weekend camping trip to the wilds of western VA. We passed through Staunton on our way to the George Washington National Forest and I think I'd like to go back there some time--very cute town with sort of an artsy vibe to it. The camping was okay but the company was great. We did some chillaxin' and had some fun with zen campfire cooking and smores-making.


A hike up Shenandoah Mountain and the history lesson that came with it left at least one member of our party tired--so tired she skipped the smores-fest and took herself to bed--right on two comfy sleeping bags, neither of which belonged to her.



And last but not least for the summer of 2009 was a typically fantastic return trip to the Emerald City. We saw friends, jumping salmon, wedded bliss, hangovers, and alas, "the mountain was out" almost the entire time we were there.