Routine on the Rio
Author: Shirlz
Life on the Rio has settled into a comfortable routine.
I have managed to avoid more unwanted wildlife getting aboard by making sure that the boat is properly closed up at night. All hatches and portholes tightly sealed. This is made bearable by having a wonderfully efficient electric fan keeping me reasonably cool and comfortable. The only problem is that there are frequent thunder and lightning storms at night and this usually causes a power failure. But, ´not to worry’, after having been woken up by the sweat starting to puddle in every crevice, I stumble in the pitch dark to switch on a light and plug in my trusty little 12V computer fan which can be suspended over my bunk to give maximum air movement. And back to sleep (if the thunder is not too directly overhead).
My normal day starts with an hour kayaking on the river at dawn. The water is flat calm and no other boats are about to terrorize me wih their unheeding wakes. There are interesting half-hidden creeks to be explored where you might imagine you are really in the jungle a million miles from marinas and luxury yachts. Birds with complicated songs are all about but not so easy to spot. Neither are the howler monkeys which make such a terrifying noise. But the trees, creepers, orchids, great hanging pods and lianas are everywhere in every shade of green.
Great buttressed tree trunks rise out of the shallow greenish water with sprays of purple orchids, tiny ferns, mosses and bromeliads clinging opportunistically to every possible attachment point. A psychedelic land where plants rule.
The kayak is perfect for exploring these narrow creeks. My dinghy would also be possible but rowing means having to be craning my neck around every now and then to see where I’m going. In any case, I have taken it out of the water and put it upside down on deck as it was regularly filling up with rain water overnight to the point of being almost submerged. Having been used to carefully conserving every drop of rainwater in the dry Caribbean, I hated having to bale out gallons of beautiful clear water every morning. It seemed such a waste.
It’s an inflatable kayak and can easily be stowed in the forepeak when not in use. It was given to me by a generous Australian who was having a wild spring-cleaning session in Chaguaramus. Used to belong to a long-past girlfriend and hadn’t been used for years. Dumpster diving turned up a really good pump which was only missing the hose attachment and I acquired a nice two-bladed paddle from a Rastaman while in Jamaica and eventually got to trying out the kayak a few weeks ago.
When the sun starts to get high enough to start heating things up and the normal daily boat traffic starts to stir, I paddle back to Speedwell stopping to check on the egrets and cormorants who roost in some small islands near to the marina. Back at the boat, I haul the kayak out of the water and partially deflate it so that it doesn’t explode when the sun really gets cooking. Then a quick shower in the little bamboo shack at the end of my dock. And my day has started.
After breakfast of papaya, toast and coffee – the toast made with sinfully unhealthy everlasting sliced bread which never goes mouldy – I take my daily walk over the bridge to buy fresh food or just amble along enjoying the crazy variety of small shops and pavement stalls. Tortillas, chicken, fish being cooked in the small space between the buildings and the enormous rumbling wheels of the trucks moving through. Cattle gaze uncomprehendingly down from their moving tumbrils. I concentrate on the beautiful display of tomatoes, onions, avocados, watermelons, pineapples, mangoes, strawberries, enormous shocking pink radishes and green peppers. The variety is amazing.
Back over the bridge and spend the rest of the day pottering about. There is no shortage of jobs to do on the boat, the only problem is deciding what to do first. I was fortunate to be able to use the big gym room above the marina office to lay out and repair the sail which had suffered a bit on the voyage from St Martin. I needed to sew some patches where the battens had chafed holes in it. The worst holes were right in the centre of the sail which made it quite tricky to get it through the machine.
The battens were also looking rather ratty. The aluminium tubing had started to corrode quite alarmingly and was forcing the carbon fibre wrapping away and splitting it. I searched about on the internet for a possible source of new aluminium poles but nothing suitable was available locally so instead, I stripped the carbon off the affected areas, cleaned off all the white powdery stuff, treated the aluminium with phosphoric acid and sealed it with straight epoxy, then faired it where necessary before wrapping with a few layers of glass cloth. These days with the weak South African Rand my budget doesn’t run to carbon fibre. It looks pretty good and should get me to Chesapeake Bay where I will be able to replace the battens more easily.
A few weeks ago I joined some friends for a visit to a hot waterfall about an hour by bus further up the coast of Lago Izabal. Really hot water falling into a cool pool below. After splashing about for a while we continued on to explore a beautiful canyon, being paddled up in a big canoe.
Most of the other boats have been left empty while their owners return home for the summer. Because of the hot and sultry weather with almost daily tropical rain showers, the marinas offer a maintenance service for the boats, cleaning and airing them so that when the owners return they’re not faced with a waterlogged, mouldy, insect-infested floating home.
August 18th, 2014 at 08:33
Hi – glad you all well and “doing stuff” – was a tad concerned , but obviously “chillin” included keeping us up-to-date …. same here in Cyprus , altho I will be back in CT September.
Chesapeake – when ?
keep well
Kris