In the Moment

In the last post, I didn't talk much about the trips between Panama City and Isla Contadora, and then Isla Contadora and Isla Espiritu Santo. Both of those trips were incredible sails, making me remember what it is like to really SAIL. Most of the summer when we were here (and I use the term "summer" to indicate which months we were here. Technically, there are only two seasons here - dry and rainy. The dry is Dec to May, and rainy is May through Nov. The rainy season is considered winter here, and the dry season is considered summer.) We had to motor between the islands because of either no wind or more likely, light winds from the wrong direction. And because of all the detritus in the water due to emptying rivers, there are lots of big logs floating around so we won't sail through here at night. But these days, since with the change of seasons there has been a change in general wind direction, we can sail. The first trip we hustled along at 5-6 knots on average, and it was fabulous to sit there on the bow and feel the wind and see the water disappearing under the bow. There is no noise from the engine, and because there is no heat coming from it, it is cooler downstairs. The heel was not too bad - and I am used to that now, pretty much anyway.

When we sailed from Contadora to Espiritu Santo we went slower, because we wanted to trail a fishing line. So we tried to keep the speed under 4 knots, which is a perfect trolling speed for a rod(we got skunked. The boat was almost perfectly balanced, it was a beautiful day, and I even took a nap right there in the cockpit. Again, I was reminded why I wanted to do my world travel by sea, at least as much as I can. It was a feeling like no other - the boat moving along propelled only by nature, and the absolute sensual delight (no other word for it) of the sun and wind on your skin, the sound of the wind in your ears, the sea birds circling, wheeling, sometimes diving hard. (Side note: We have to keep an eye on our fishing lure because if it is close enough to the surface, the boobies will dive for it and if they get caught, it is hard to free then without at least one of you getting hurt.) Oh there is nothing like this feeling - you feel as if it will go on forever, and at the same time, like there is really nothing you can't handle, nothing that you can't figure out a way to accomplish. It's like taking a bath in every good feeling you ever had, all at once, but in a calm way. I am so glad I have experienced this.

We have this anchorage completely to ourselves, at least we have had for the past couple of days. No one except the occasional panga stopping ashore to get water from the fresh water stream that empties across from where Magda Jean is anchored. We also see the panga with the guys who hunt iguana with dogs. Two guys and their dogs are dropped off and then picked up at the end of the day. Sometimes they have iguanas and sometimes they don't. I have never tried it - they eat it in El Salvador but it is not the sort of thing you find on a menu. I guess I would try it if I had a chance, depending on how it was prepared. Funny, I am like a four year old about food - I won't touch cheese or sour cream, don't like mushrooms, and so on, but I will happily try this strange stuff. I never claimed to be consistent. Anyway, at the risk of TMI, when you have an anchorage to yourself, you don't have to get dressed, even in your bathing suit. There are only two things send us in search of sartorial splendor is the sound of an approaching panga or the fear of sunburn. The only tan line I will have left is where my ankle bracelet is! HA HA HA!!!

I shall leave you all with that visual. The Las Perlas Islands are heaven on earth. The proof is in us risking lightning strikes to spend more time here.

"Out truest life si when we are in dreams awake." (Henry David Thoreau)

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