Semana Santa in Antigua

During Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Antigua residents make these amazing Alfombras (carpets) out of dyed sawdust, pine needles, and flowers. They are created as offerings to Jesus as the story of his crucifixion and death are recounted. Purple robed cucaruchos carry huge, heavy floats bearing statues of Jesus in different stages of his ordeal through the streets adorned with the alfombras. The mood is festive and somber at the same time. The making of the alfombras is festive as families and neighbors work tirelessly (and often well into the night and early hours of the morning) to complete their intricately detailed carpets. Some alfombras include fruit and breads as offerings. As the processions go by the mood becomes somber and some people dab their eyes with hankies as Christ's ordeal is displayed. Starting on Thursday around noon and completing on Saturday morning, the processions move through the labyrinth of streets in Antigua on a predetermined route. The people of each street know when the procession will be coming and prepare their alfombras in time for it to pass by. So at any point in time lookilu's like us can walk around town and see alfombras in varying stages of completion. My understudying (which is slightly fuzzy) is that different churches around town are responsible for different stages of the story. For example, La Iglesia San Francisco started on Thursday with the carrying of the float depicting Jesus bearing the cross. The next day, Iglesia La Merced (with cucaruchos in black robes) carried a float with Jesus in a glass casket. The processions were very moving and I found myself getting choked up now and again not only in response to the processions, but also in awe of how lucky we are to be able to share with Soleil a little of the magic that is her birthright. 

Waiting for the procession with our friends the Cawrses. 

The Cucaruchos carrying the wooden float with Jesus bearing the cross. They burn incense and pound bass drums as they march across the Sawdust Carpets. Beautiful and quite moving.  

The kids were excited to get their hands on some sawdust after the procession went by. See Volcan de Agua in the background. I love that volcano. It's so majestic. 

Neighbors and families join forces and spend hours to create masterpieces in the streets as offerings for the coming procession. 

Nearly too cool for sawdust carpets: my darling first born. 

Beautiful Mayan women outside the market on Tres Avenida hard at work on their sweet smelling alfombra of pine needles and flowers. 

The statues on the floats are incredible detailed and realistic.


In front of our casita in Antigua. Then...

...and Now. 

P.S. Since this picture was taken in Antigua we returned to the boat, which was docked at Tijax Jungle Lodge, traveled back up the Rio Dulce, and explored the southern Cays of Belize with our friends, the Cawrses. We had a great time with our friends, but it was a stressful week for me as ALL of my kids were sick with different ailments. Fevers, stomach pain, colds, coughing, barfing, delirium, staph infections (you do NOT want to know where), and one severe allergic reaction to sulfa drugs. Being on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean with no internet and nary a clinic in sight was just about more than I could handle. Because, you see: I'm not a doctor! (Although you would think I was studying for the boards with all the medical books I have on the boat. Who says I never read?) Thanks to my Mama (a P.A.) for all the time on the phone helping me to get everyone sorted (and for interpreting those pics of the staph infections. Gross, I know. I'm sorry.) And I owe a shout out to our dear friend Dr. Ron who not only took my desperate satellite phone call from the middle of the ocean and had all the answers, but who had recommended that I have prednisone in my medicine bag just in case of "severe allergic reactions".  Thanks, Ron! You're a life saver. 

So except for a few more gray hairs and some scaring in several unsightly locations, we're nearly 100% recovered. We've been relaxing here in Placencia, Belize for the last several days. What a darling little beach village! You must visit if you ever get the chance. Our friends left earlier in the week and as much fun as it is to share the boat with friends it sure is nice to have it to ourselves (and cruise around naked to our hearts' content). Next stop: (if Dave is successful in tearing me away from this darling village with unlimited ice cream, lattes, and a clinic) is the islands of the Belize Barrier Reef (second in size only to the Great Barrier Reef of Australia). Stay tuned...

Reflections (on the Sea)

Six weeks after leaving the comfort of our heavenly bungalow style abode with flush toilet in California, we have safely arrived in Antigua, Guatemala for Semana Santa and the famed sawdust carpets. It is so absolutely marvelous to be "home" and the sawdust carpets are every bit as enchanting as I'd hoped. You may recall that the kids and I lived here five years ago at the end of Soli's adoption. Read more about those adventures here. 

 The first chapter of our sailing adventure was a relative success, all things considered. We dropped our dear friends, the Culbecks, off at the airport in Guatemala City a few days ago. I’m happy to report that after a month of sharing 38 feet of sailboat amongst the 10 of us we still consider each other “dear friends”. I won’t lie; it wasn’t always pretty. 3.8 feet of personal space doesn’t leave a lot of "breathing room", if you know what I mean. There were plenty of melt-downs. I mean red-in-the-face, knock-down, drag-out, foot stomping, door slamming, hair pulling, mast climbing, teeth clenching, screaming, pouting, hitting, cussing, biting, spitting, crying, full-throttle freaking out melt-downs! 

And that was just me. 

Add to that, 6 kids in the throws of varying stages of puberty, and let me just say...it was one spicy boat. Throw in 50 hour crossings with no land in sight, large quantities of barf, sweaty hot days, biting bugs, sub par refrigeration, the permanent smell of fish guts and absolutely no ice for beverages to numb the pain. In retrospect, it’s a miracle we survived it. 

But survive we did. And with our sense of humor mostly in tact. Thanks for cruising with us, Culbecks! Next year, let's just meet at the Ritz in Panama City and call it a day. Nah! Who needs breakfast buffets when you can eat rice? Again. Love you guys! 

Now. It’s always more entertaining to hear about the tribulations of any adventure, but there were plenty of highlights, too. Namely:

When you see the Southern Cross for the first time, you understand now why you came this way. (But then you barf.)

Sharing the magic of phosphorescent algae on a sunrise watch with an nine year old daughter. 

Jibing the genoa all by yourself. 

Scopolamine patches for sea sickness found at the bottom of the medicine bag. Expired in ’03. Still work. Gracias a Dios. 

Fireflies and Schnitzel sans kids at Manati, the German restaurant on Guanaja.  

Snorkeling with a five year old daughter and having her tell you through her snorkel, “Ahm, ook! Een Ajel Ish”. (Mom, look! Queen Angel Fish). Good work, Amma Onnie. 

Watching the sea pups climb to the TIPPY TOP of the mast (Do you have any idea how high that is?) and SLIDE down the head stay. (Actually, I couldn’t watch that. I just know it happened. I'm still not sure how I feel about it.)

That heavenly spit of land, Water Cay (so apropo), and walking the length of it, hand in hand, with your honey. South West Cays off of Utila, Bay Islands, Honduras. 


Seeing the sparkle in the eyes of a five year old daughter as she sets sight on her beautiful birth country for the first time in memory. 

Telling the kids the story of “how I met your mother” while eating pizza at the very restaurant on the Rio Dulce where it all began 17 years ago. 

The beautiful sight of Guanaja on the horizon and dolphins on the bow after an all night  crossing.

Watching with pride as a 15 year old son and an 11 year old son thrive in this life on the sea and fall so naturally into their places as “son of a son of a sailor”. 

A freshly caught mahi-mahi and a thoroughly entertaining game of chess. A typical scene in our cock-pit whilst underway. 

 Is that fresh sushi? Yes it is. 

 Banana boats and a beach bon-fire on Vivarios. 

 Hand dumping the port holding tank. Oh, the joys... 

 A ginormous barracuda that we reeled in. But not before a shark had made lunch of the rear section. We felt like we were paying off the mafioso of the ocean, "Take the barracuda! Just don't harm the children!"

 Emerson keeping an eye for coral heads on the way in to Albuquerque Cays. 

 Anchor Drill. 

 Evie, so happy not to be barfing on this crossing. 

 Land Ho. Look at those happy faces. Glad to be on solid ground in San Andres. 

Sunrise watch with Soleil. 

 Dolphins off the bow. 

 They had such fun surfing the wake of our boat. 

 Cay and gorgeous waters off of Guanaja. 

 We call this Engine Yoga. 

 Guanaja settlement. AKA: The Cay

Charming neighborhood on "The Cay". 

Carver on his way up the mast.


We squeeze in home schooling whenever (and wherever) possible.

We're heading back to the boat and the Rio Dulce tomorrow with our new crew, The Cawrse's. Stay tuned...

Sail on the Wild Side

We may have a budding cinematographer on our hands. Now that he's not bogged down by such pesky things as...school...check out this cool trailer Emerson made in iMovie:

Click Here

(Be sure to make it full screen and turn up the volume.)

Invasion of the Microorganisms

We have successfully arrived in the Bay Islands of Honduras. Phew! And only 3 weeks behind schedule. We've spent the last couple of nights anchored off of the east end of Guanaja which is the eastern most of the 3 main islands in the chain. The island is tall and green and lush with buildings reminiscent of the Virgin Islands. Originally settled by the British, the island is home to a delightful combination of people descending from pirates, freed slaves, and European colonists. Enchanting! The language is primarily English (Island English) although the schooling instruction is all in Spanish since the islands were given back to Honduras by England in the mid 1800's.

The snorkeling on the reefs around the island is magnificent! There was a dolphin cruising around our anchorage this morning. The kids jumped in and tried to play with her. She wasn't interested. And I just heard hollering from the for deck that there is a nurse shark under our boat. (The friendliest of sharks - not to worry, Mom.)

We'll be leaving the Bay Islands on Friday morning (March 30) and heading for the Rio Dulce of Guatemala (24 hour crossing - downwind). Our crew is holding up fairly well although we have recently been invaded by microorganisms. Fungus, Viruses and Amoebas are staking claim in all the nooks and crannies of our boat and crew. I won't go into all the gory details, but, let's just say, I've never been so fond of bleach. Love that stuff. I may start brushing my teeth with it.

 Carver, making friends with the locals. 

Evie and Mama up with the sunrise for an early morning watch off of Albuquerque Cays. 

In front of our new genoa. 

 Is it lobster season? As far as we know it's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" Season. 

A mahi-mahi that Evie reeled in. The ceviche was delicious and so were the fish tacos the next night.


One of the two Columbian islands making up Albuquerque Cays.

The kids were happy to be ashore for an ice cream on the Columbian island of San Andres (off of Nicaragua). 

Balance Weight Loss Program

We left Bocas del Toro at noon on March 17 (Saturday) at which point 7 out of 10 of us started the Balance Weight Loss Program. It’s a simple method really. Just head out into the open ocean with “6-8” foot seas (we all agree they were more like 10-12 feet), barf intermittently for the next 50 hours, and voila! A new thinner you. I’ve never been so glad to see land. Oh my heck. Whose idea was this?

participant of the Balance Weight Loss Program (actually Cole, Dave & Courtney were the only 3 non barfers on the crossing)

So after our 50 hour orientation course on “Open Ocean Crossings with Kids” we spent two heavenly days recovering at the Albuquerque Cays; two tiny little Columbian islands off of the coast of Nicaragua (far off the coast, btw). One is a Columbian marine outpost of sorts with about 6 Columbian boys playing in the water and “checking us in” on the VHF radio. The other is home to a little “village” of fishermen who by day take their skiffs and fish the deep water off the island and then return to sleep in little lean-to’s made of cardboard and fishing net. The snorkeling off the islands was excellent and absolutely perfect for the kids. Tons of beautiful live coral and lots of gorgeous fish. We speared the biggest lobster I’ve ever seen and enjoyed him thoroughly along with the tuna we had caught on our crossing, and Captain Dave’s conch fritters. Yum. The next day we spent some time dressing our boat’s wounds (both trampolines and the main sail had blow outs on the crossing) and cleaning puke out of cracks and crevices. Then we made hey for the beach. There is nothing more satisfying than feeling sand between your toes after having been sequestered on a boat with 6 barfing kids for 72 hours. Ahhhh. The adults walked the entirety of the island while the kids snorkeled in the super warm, shallow waters off the most quintessential white sand Caribbean beach. They were happy for hours chasing rays and making pets of the baby octopi that they found in empty conch shells. That evening, the hunting faction of our tribe went on a dinner expedition and came home with more lobster and conch. We hated to leave. 

But leave we did. And after a pleasing, “puke-free”, 6 hour crossing we arrived at the Columbian island of San Andres (no, not really near Columbia). To us, it seems like a metropolis of sorts with high rise hotels and honking cars. We docked the boat at Nene’s Marina and took the kids on a walking tour of the water front, stopping at the first pizza place we found. Oh heavenly pizza. And then we had ice cream. 

We aren’t staying long as we are on a time line to get to Guatemala for Semana Santa in Antigua. So we’ll leave later today or tomorrow and head down wind (thank heavens!) to Cayos Vivarillios. Then on to the Bay Islands of Honduras arriving at the Rio Dulce of Guatemala by the end of the month. We have quite a few miles to cover between here and the next time we’ll have internet (Bay Islands) so keep us in your thoughts (puke free, strong boat thoughts, if you please). 

Fair Winds,

The Skinny Crew of Balance

Stranded in Paradise

After two weeks at the Bocas Marina...here are the developments:

Our friends, the Culbecks, have arrived, and although there are now 10 people on board Balance, it's awesome to have the extra help with boat maintenance and kid management.

The Sail Doctor gave us the sad prognosis that our wild black jib has to be put down. Although somewhat rowdy and unruly, he flew true and stout and carried us safely across many an ocean passage. It's sad to see the day that a sail comes to the end of its flying career. May he rest in peace in the sail locker.

We were lucky enough to find a used jib here in Bocas. She's an older genoa but still has lots of life. She's a lovely shade of white, makes a pleasing little nicker when luffing, is slightly larger than our last but gentle and friendly. Great with kids. We're lucky to have her.

The local diesel doctor has been working on our port engine for the better part of a week and with the critical components sent by the Miami Grandparents, he was successful in getting it running!! Yeah! So yesterday we pulled off the dock to stretch our sea legs for the first time since arriving two weeks ago. It was exhilarating! The kids were ecstatic to be "under way", jumping up and down on the bow with the waves and "catching air" like in an elevator. We tacked our way out of the Bocas cut, then turned around and, with the wind on our stern, jibed our way back towards the dock. About halfway back we lost power on the starboard engine. Bummer. So for the second time in the same number of weeks, we limped back to the Bocas Marina on one engine. We're hoping it's something simple, and that we'll be able to fix it easily.

Our weather window for heading north (initially to La Isla de San Andres and then on to Honduras, Guatemala, and the Yucatan) is looking like late this weekend. This is perfect as it will give us ample time for additional "shakedown-breakdown" day sails around the excellent cruising grounds surrounding Bocas.

Courtney and I took the kids to La Finca de los Monos Botanical Garden. It was an adventure. The perfect opportunity to get off the boat and check out the local flora and fauna. Highlights were the wax ginger flowers and the howler monkeys that we got to see up close. Fantastic!!

Being stuck in Bocas del Toro has it's perks. Namely, the surf, which is some of the best in all of Central America. Our surfers have been enjoying it. 

Here are some pics for your viewing enjoyment.

 The whole scurvy crew waking up slowly whilst listening to the Bocas net. 

 Give this mama another pina colada! 

 Make it two. Soli slipped on a rock and sliced her leg on a crustacean. Ouch. 

 The kids have been having a blast fishing with little hand lines off the dock. This is one of Emerson's catches. This fellow made it back to the bay after his photo shoot.

Bocas has several well established surf breaks with consistent waves for all levels. Happy surfers when they're able to tear themselves away from boat work. 

 Wax Ginger at the botanical gardens. Exquisite. 

 The CUTEST baby pineapple ever. Seen hear next to Soli's little hand.


A Mama Howler and her Baby. I love how she's keeping her eye on me. And I love my camera. This was difficult lighting and I didn't have my telephoto lens. In the original shot you can't see the baby at all. But when I cropped, this fabulousness appeared. 

 Out for our first sail. "Why did I just lose power on starboard?"

 "I content myself with a humble (floating) cottage and a simple kitchen garden." This is my favorite quote.  And you can imagine I was over the moon to find aloe and an orchid at the botanical gardens. Then right here in Bocas I was lucky enough to find herb seedlings: basil, mint, oregano, thyme, rosemary, and peppermint. Ahhh. Happiness. 

More happiness. Soli was so excited to be "sailing down da waves". 

Thanks for checking in, 

Heather and the Stranded Crew of Balance

Three Hour Tour

First of all, last week, while we were working on the boat, we had the good fortune of being able to stay at Mark's jungle house in Cauchero. And, although we were entirely consumed with boat work, being at Mark's house was pretty amazing. Now that I have a little more internet and a lot more patience I'd like to tell you all about it.


The house sits a short (and steep!) jungle ride up the hill from the bay where the boat was moored. It has some of the most amazing views I’ve seen. His house is the only thing around, surrounded by miles of rain forest and ocean in every direction (almost creepy, it’s so isolated). The house is completely off the grid (of course there are no services in the middle of the rain forest) so all of the water is collected rainwater and the house runs on solar power. In the evening these cool little solar lights come on inside and you feel like you’re camping. We became accustomed to rising with the sun and retiring for the night shortly after dark. The howler monkeys would wake at sunrise, too, and make a cacophonous morning raucous. After breakfast the parrots and toucans would fill the trees just beyond the wrap around, tree top porch. It was a  sight. And there were fire flies! (Did you know that I thought fire flies only existed at Disney Land until I was 19 and saw them in Costa Rica for the first time?) I love fire flies. They are so magical. It was exciting for the kids to see them for the first time. 


The cold water shower was of the open air variety (read: out door) and situated on the north facing porch. That took a bit of getting used to for our modest and spoiled-by-unlimited-hot-water, kids. But, for me, the view and the cold water were invigorating! I loved it. 


As beautiful as it was, there were a few difficulties to being at Mark's tree top jungle abode. 


First, it was so isolated there was no where to go to get a burger and a beer after a hard day working on the boat. We were limited to eating whatever we could put together out of Mark’s pantry. And, he’s a bachelor who lives in the jungle, so options were limited. We ate a lot of pasta and rice. And canned mushrooms. But, I tell you. It was refreshing to see our kids eat EVERYTHING that was put in front of them with nary an "I don't like that" and then ask for seconds. With all of the snacking that we do at home, our kids seem to think that meals are optional and are served with a side of fussing. At Marks they discovered a new found appreciation for food. Hallelujah. I hope that lasts. 


Another difficulty was that there was relatively no internet, aside from Dave's iWife, of course, for which he's paying a small fortune for an international data plan (and thank goodness for that). So researching boat issues and how to fix them was tedious. We've become so dependent on the internet and the information that is so readily available to us. Sigh. 


For me, as much as I love the idea of being off the grid, the laundry situation proved rather challenging. Dave and I pretty much wore the same work clothes the whole week (clean sleeping clothes, of course) and the kids wore bathing suits so it wasn't our laundry that needed doing. It was boat laundry. All the towels, all the sheets, all the cushion covers (the ones that were salvageable) all the rags, all the foul weather gear. Everything. I was lucky that Mark has a mini washing machine. But with water and electricity being in short supply and everything having to be hung dry it wasn't easy. Especially with the ocean breeze running up the hill and the rain forest fog blowing down the hill, linens on the clothes line never really dry completely. They're always a bit damp. Then you put them on your bed and they still feel a bit damp. Even the toilet paper feels damp. Very unsatisfying. Anyway, I have a heightened appreciation for my mega load washing machine and my fossil-fuel-burning-dryer at home.  


Lastly, being so isolated in Cauchero was no good for getting supplies and tools to fix the boat. So after we had done all we could with duck tape, bleach, and a leatherman we decided to limp to the nearest "big" town, 20 miles away, on one engine and tattered rigging. We made up the bunks with damp sheets, stole the remainder of rice and canned mushrooms from Mark's pantry, and loaded our crew onto Balance for the three hour tour. 


It should have been smooth sailing and, at first, it was. We hoisted our black sail and were making pretty good time with our one engine. The skies were blue and there was just the nicest little breeze coming over our port bow. The seas were calm being that we were on the inside of the Bocas del Toro Archipelago. I made myself busy organizing the galley while Jack Johnson strummed his six string in the salon. It was lovely. And we were so happy to be sailing somewhere. Anywhere. Then Dave poked his head down into the salon and said, "Rain coming. You might wanna close up." 


"How many minutes?" I asked, reaching for a stray measuring cup deep in the galley locker. 


He glanced up, calculating the distance between our bow and the gray squall brewing near the cut where we were headed.


"About three."


I hopped up and started making the rounds; stowing stray gear and closing hatches. A few wayward rain drops slipped through the windows as I closed them up tight. 


Approximately three minutes later all hell broke loose. 


I had just finished closing up the boat and stepped out of the salon into the cockpit when I noticed that the rain was starting to fall in ernest. Then I saw our nine year old perched like a bowsprit on the starboard bow seat, in front of the open jib sail. The sail began to flap and flutter as the erratic winds of the squall were upon us. 


"Time to furl the jib, boys." Dave says. (This means roll it up. Not good to have a big sail up in a squall.)
No sooner had they released the jib sheets and starting cranking on the wench that rolls up the sail than a huge gust of wind slapped us across the starboard beam. The sail snapped angrily across the bow, the metal  grommet crashing loudly into every piece of standing rigging it could reach. At that moment, Evie, sensing impending danger, decided it was high time to make her way back to the cockpit. She narrowly escaped a concussion as she ducked and dodged her way past the deadly black sail as it bucked and spit like a wild bronc. My screams for her to "STOP!" and "LAY DOWN!" were reduced to silence by the howling wind, pounding rain, and thrashing sail. Thank God she made it back to the cockpit safely where she quickly grabbed her sister's hand and could be heard saying, "Come on, Soli. We're outta here," as the two of them retreated to the safety of their bunk to put on their pajamas. 


Meanwhile, back on the bow, the jib struggled wildly to free itself from the confines of the slapping lines. But the ropes held firm in an effort to break the enraged beast. The boys were no match for the snarling sail, and Dave's single motor, even at full throttle, was useless in holding us to weather. The wind pushed us off course and downwind, further enraging our sail. In no time our lines were a tangled mess, fruitlessly whipping at wind and sky with the terrifying crack of broken sound barrier. 


"Dammit." Dave cursed as he realized one engine is NOT as good as two. "I need to go on the bow and untangle those lines."


I looked up at our infuriated sail and the hissing mess of husband-damaging metal parts and whipping lines that were attached to it. I sent a silent plea to the wind gods to be gentle with him. 


"Emerson, take the helm. Heath, haul in on the port sheet. Cole, crank in the slack when you can," he ordered as he stepped into the ring to wrestle the writhing beast. It was terrifying to watch him up on the bow tacking and jibing to avoid the sail as it tried to buck him off the boat. But, the wild black jib was no match for my man, and he quickly wrangled the lines into submission. Cole and I took in the slack to keep the lines from tangling again while Emerson spun the helm to no avail, as the boat continued to be pushed downwind by the storm. Back in the cockpit Dave cranked on the wench handle and furled the broke beast onto the headstay.


Unable to make headway with one engine, we threw the hook and rode out the remainder of the storm in the salon. It was all over in 10 minutes. On the other side were promises of blue skies and internet. We happily arrived in Bocas del Toro at sun down where we have been enjoying the good life at Bocas Marina ever since. Unlimited water, electricity, internet, laundry, a restaurant (which we have shamelessly been frequenting 3 times a day for the better part of 5 days), and hot water showers...with doors. And, it's a darn good thing we're happy here because it may be a while before we can leave. 


Here's the good news and the bad news on the boat:


The bad news: The port engine needs the top end rebuilt.


The more bad news: You can't get those parts in these parts.


The good news: For a small fortune the Miami Grandparents are sending a small package worth another small fortune to Mail Boxes Etc. here in Bocas. Should be here in 7-10 business days. Thank you, Miami Grandparents for running around the greater Miami area on our behalf. I guess there were a few more things we forgot to buy. You two are life-boat savers.


The bad news: The majority of the sheets (ropes) on the boat are brittle and frayed.


The good news: Another cruiser here in Bocas just happened to offer a boat load (literally) of brand new lines. We bought them all for a small fortune.


The bad news: We were supposed to leave Panama a week ago to head north in time to pick up our friends in Honduras on March 5. Rule number one of cruising: NEVER make plans involving firm dates. We should have known better.


The good news: Those friends are spending a small fortune and flying here instead. Phew.


The good news: Dave borrowed a prop puller and was able to muscle off the half eaten props.


The bad news: The bolts are bent and so even though we have two replacement props (a small miracle, btw) we can't install them.


The more bad news: Of course they don't sell those particular hex bolts anywhere besides the Volvo Penta Marine Diesel Dealership in Virginia.


The good news: We paid a small fortune to have them overnighted to the Miami grandparents who included them in our care package. Should arrive in 7-10 days.


The bad news: The inverter seems to be dead and is not charging our house batteries. So even though we are on the dock and have unlimited 110V electricity we still have to run our engine and charge our batteries in order to be able to use our 12V systems (like the fridge, lights, and fans).


The good news: For a small fortune, Mark is picking up a new inverter in David, Panama. In the meantime, we borrowed a battery charger from a neighbor here on the dock so we have unlimited 12V.


The bad news: The windows and hatches still leak sumpin' fierce.*


The good news: It rains enough inside our boat for me to collect all of the water I need to do dishes for a whole day. 


*Since I typed this up Dave has sealed the windows by caulking the insides (caulking the outside wasn't enough).

This picture makes me laugh right out loud. It was taken overlooking the Mira Flores Locks of the Panama Canal. We had about 25 minutes before we had to be at the airport for our puddle jumper to Bocas del Toro. You know that scene in Vacation where Chevy Chase stands with his family overlooking the Grand Canyon, bobs his head for 3 seconds, and says, "Ok. Let's go!" That was us at the Panama Canal. We ran up the stairs to the overlook, had someone snap this pic, watched a big ship move halfway through the locks and then ran back down the stairs to our waiting taxi. Panama Canal: check.

On our way to Cauchero with our friend, Mark. Crazy as ever!

A darling family in Loma Partida. Look at that sparkling white laundry! (I wonder is she gets hers to dry.)

Dave trying to hear the weather report on the SSB overlooking the bay where Balance is moored. How 'bout them views...

Our first day of home school on the boat. No. It's not as much fun as it looks. At least not so far. 

Now this is as much fun as it looks. The kids have discovered the bosin chairs. They spend several hours a day swinging from the rigging like monkeys and throwing poop at the neighbors. 

A typical scene on our boat...

Need I say more? 

Boat Work

I forgot how much of a drag boat work is. I mean it SUCKS. And this boat has been almost entirely neglected and rotting away in the tropics since the last time we were on it...five and a half years ago. In fact, I found a pair of Emerson's mini boxers in one of the berths; size 2-4. He's eleven. Almost twelve. Honestly. And the septic tanks were full. Probably with our own poop. Too bad we didn't dump those when we had the chance, 'cuase now the pumps are shot. And so are most of the bilges, the radar, the air conditioning, the inverter, fathometer, tachometer, animomiter, and just about every other 'ometer on the boat, including one of the engine-ometers. The props look like they've been snacked on by a school of hungry zinc eating piranhas, the jib (head sail) is black (used to be white), and a colony of fiercely territorial wasps has made their home in the main sail. Just about every hatch has been leaking for five years which means every cushion under every hatch is totally moldy and disintegrating. And since the bilge pumps were broken and the hatches were leaking, the used-to-be-beautiful-hardwood-floors were submerged in water for who knows how long and promptly became fungus food. They will have to be replaced with not-so-beautiful-plywood-floors. There was a gecko nest in the port V-berth. You know how I feel about geckos. Remember THIS story? We caught him and let him go in the furled main in hopes that he can get a handle on the wasp situation. May the sea gods be with him.

There is good news: the stereo is working. And after some coaxing Dave got one engine running (they're like kidneys - we have two). After some more coaxing, he convinced the alternator to charge the house batteries. So we have 12 volt electricity. Yeah. The fridge and freezer are working and two out of three burners on the stove are working. The water maker is working. And although the jib is black, it seems to be in pretty good condition. We'll see how it holds up to a big blow. And, eenyways, I think it's cool to fly a black sail. Who does that? Besides Johnny Depp.

The kids are somtimes helpful with the projects on the boat and sometimes not so much. You can imagine. They are holding up relatively well expect for some itchy bug bites and the fact that Evie just told me she hasn't pooped in four days. Wonderful.

And, of course, Dave is totally in his element working on the boat. With the stereo thumping and a little help from Buffet, he is happily check marking his way down a seriously long list of to-do's. I was happily check marking along side him until today (our fourth straight day up to our elbows in mold and poop) when suddenly I wasn't that happy about being up to my elbows in mold and poop and stuck on a 38' boat with four kids (who, btw, have absolutely NO WHERE TO GO being that we are moored off of a mangrove jungle in the middle of Nowheresville, PANAMA!! What the BEEP was I thinking?!) P.S. Did you know that Panama is 9 degrees north of the equator? This is important for two reasons. One: it's stinkin' hot. Two: if you're fair skinned, like most of us, you can be in the sun at this latitude for about...say...two minutes before you're totally scorched. So the kids, having been totally scorched yesterday, were sequestered inside the boat for the better part of today where I was up to my elbows in mold and poop. And totally out of patience for the whole thing. So I told Dave that come hell or high water (or, in this case, both) tomorrow, if I have to row there myself, I am heading for the nearest dock where I will promptly be getting off the boat and renting a bungalow with electricity, hot water, wi-fi, and mojitos. Mama's batteries need charging, too.

Windward Bound

Oh my, oh my. We've been in Miami for the last five days visiting the Miami Grandparents and prepping (read: shopping) for our trip. And I'm pretty sure we've bought everything there is to buy for coastal cruising in the greater Miami area including but not limited to an Automated External Defibrillator (you just never know when you'll need one), a shiny new EPIRB (for if we're lost at sea - Don't worry, Mom. We won't need it.), goggles, snorkels, fins, flip-flops, sun shirts, sun hats, sun tea, sunscreen, & sundries. West Marine loves us. And I may need to use the AED on my husband as his heart is threatening afib with all the spending.

We leave tonight for Panama City. We'll visit the Panama Canal tomorrow (homeschool lesson number one), and then we take a puddle jumper tomorrow afternoon to Bocas del Toro, Panama. The boat is an hour and a half skiff ride from Bocas. Phew! Let the adventure begin!!

I also want to give a ginormous shout out to our dear friend Mark who is loaning his beautiful catamaran to house us during this adventure. There's a whole story that goes with that, but for now, Mark, you are the awesomest! We can never thank you enough for your eternal generosity and for encouraging us to get our salty crew sailing. We love you!!

Next stop...Panama!
We'll meet you there...

Hair Brained...And Five Years Ago Today

Three days 'til we embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

And am I ever hair brained!

Let me explain.

Being that my list is about 7 iPads long, time is currently one commodity that cannot be wasted. Gas, on the either hand, is not nearly in such short supply. So this morning I needed to run to school to snap a quick picture for yearbook (remember when I had all that "free time" for things like yearbook?). Anyway, I decided that I was far too busy to walk the two and a half blocks to school. Better to waste gas over time, I reasoned. So I drove. And parked right in front of the school. Before long "snapping a quick pic for yearbook" turned into "snapping a quick pic for yearbook, then sorting through a monster pile of lost and found (yes, found it), and then discussing the ins and outs of my homeschooling plan with the principal". By the time I left the school I was so short on time that I nearly ran all the way home. Only to find that my car had been stolen!

Honestly, if my brain weren't attached I may forget to pack it. But, at least the yearbook will be done.

On another note entirely, five years ago today we landed in soggy San Francisco.  After living in Guatemala for two months, we were finally bringing home our brand new baby girl. It was such a happy day. We love you, Sunshine. Check out that story here.

Three's A Crowd

My job as a wife is in jeopardy.

I'm in danger of being replaced.

By the iWife.

Also know as the iPhone 4S.

And I'm beginning to feel like a bit of a third wheel. They're inseparable. They spend all of their free time together. And she's always all up on his butt. I mean, I'm all about PDA, but seriously. It's a bit much.

The other day I overheard Dave talking to his iWife, and I'm pretty sure he was whispering sweet nothings.  Then I heard him say, "Remind me September 25 is my mom's birthday."

That's when I knew I was in trouble.

And the iWife responded in a delightfully cheerful tone, "Shall I create a reminder?"

I mean, we all know the appropriate response should have been, "What am I? Your secretary?"
      (Wifery 101)

And when he gave her the go ahead, she was a little too quick to reply in her sing-song Tinker Bell voice, "Reminder created!" I mean, the eagerness. It was embarrassing. Show some restraint, Girl.

At least I've got better boobs.

And, yes, she'll be going sailing with us. God forbid we leave her at home. 

*This pic was taken the last time we took the kids sailing on Balance. San Blas Islands - 2006.
**We leave two weeks from yesterday!