Bocas Yacht Club and Marina
Bocas del Toro, Panama
Nothing much to report this month, as Ole is away in Finland
getting the Independence of the Seas ready, and I’m just being a
homebody here at the marina, busying myself with putting a coat
of varnish on the caprail, painting the arms of the deck chairs,
refinishing the table on the back deck, and making a few odds
and ends of canvas to cover sensitive stuff on deck. It’s tough
to schedule, as you never know when it’s going to start raining
and not stop for three or four days. Oh yeah – and TAXES. Easy
to do now online, but a pain in the butt to have to pay!
Neil (Attitude) came back on April 4, without Kathy. She’s
recovering from a killer of a skiing accident, and it may be
some time before she’s up to leaping around the deck of a
sailboat, what with the steel plate and bolts she ended up with
through her femur. She’s expected back sometime near the end of
the month..
The Marina Cantina has a cocktail hour from 4 to 6 every day,
and I make a point of going up every couple of days, both to let
people know I’m still alive, and also to get to know some of my
neighbors. Like all of the other places we’ve been so far,
there’s a great sense of community here – I know that if I need
anything there will be loads of help.
One day I think I’ll write an essay about “The Usual
Suspects” that seem to inhabit every marina and anchorage – the
cast of characters may have different names but the roles are
pretty much decided. There’s the know-it-all, the drunk, the
doper, the many-times-divorced single hander, the
gonna-get-my-boat-fixed-one-day type, the daily waxer and
polisher perfectionist, the so-there-we-were-and-this-is-no-shit
storyteller, the stuck here waiting for parts ones, the rich
ones, the fixed income ones, the timid and the bold. But the
constant is the community. We may have nothing else in common
but boats, but that commonality is so strong that nothing else
seems to matter. It’s fun to watch.
The Bocas Garden Club (!) put together a tour to
Tranquilo Bay Resort, a few islands down from here. Built
by two 40-something Texans who’ve been friends since childhood,
the place is a marvel of will and a testament to quality. The
owners took about 20 of us on a guided walk through their
jungle, showing us some rare and interesting plants. Also saw
my first 3-toed sloth (just a furry lump in the crotch of a
tree) and white-faced monkeys swinging through the trees. I
really have to hand it to anybody with the wherewithal in guts
and stubbornness to build anything here, much less something of
such quality.
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