With daylight on Friday came a stiffening of the breeze. Eric single-handedly set the sails and put us back on course by the time Brian and I had shed the respiteful blankets of the night's easy passage. By 10:00 am we had rounded Roatan's western strand and an hour later were threading our way to the dockage at Coxen's Hole where the Port Captain and immigrations awaited. After cruising the harbor for half an hour we'd established the location of the government offices, but not where to bring Faith to berth. In this matter we were extended a wonderful courtesy: the workers at a waterfront warehouse invited us to tie up at their shipping dock and use their facilities as a base of operations. Our plan, developed on the cruise from San Pedro, was to cut out the middleman and go right to the authorities ourselves, hopefully expediting the check-in check-out process. This turned out to be as simple as we possibly could have hoped. I walked the half block to the offices with our paperwork and passports, was processed in about 20 minutes, spent the $30 for our visas, and was back aboard just like that. Aha! We were becoming savvy in the international travel arena at last! Having perused the facilities available at
Coxen's Hole (there were none) we elected to continue the five or so miles onward to French Harbor. The workers at the warehouse warned us about an oncoming storm front expected to be quite a blow throughout the area. "Go to French Harbor," they suggested, "it's safe and all the sailboaters love it there." We gave them our appreciation and swung the bow east for the fabled sanctuary. Our intention was to go to anchor for the first night or two, then come to dock for restocking, showers, electricity and water. The attempt we made at entering the anchorage, which the charts and guides showed as being easily deep enough to accommodate our draft, was marred by coral heads rising to strike at our keel. We backed off from the approach, deciding it would be especially wise for us to get some local input first. The marina being only a quarter mile from our position it was mere moments before we were sliding through the glassy waters toward a dock entirely inhabited by sailboats. Ooooo, we hummed, this looks promising! Even more promising were the sailing family, a man and wife and their two girls, signaling with happy gestures that we should come in and tie up a couple of piers down from them. I hiked the short distance up the hill to speak with the masters of the marina about prices and the possibility of arranging a slip for the night. "Sixty cents a foot," I was informed by the stunning Marianela, tending bar at the marina restaurant. Whoa! That's the least we'd been charged since leaving Waukegan! And here in paradise, no less! A bar, restaurant, pool, laundry, internet, and access to every sort of shoreside store we could want. Separate charges would apply for each, but the advantage was that if we didn't use something we also wouldn't be paying for it. Eric and Brian were receptive to the idea of remaining at the dock: "Jeez!! You're kidding!" they spouted. "No, she's really that pretty, and the dock is only sixty cents a foot," I replied.
Matters settled, we settled in to do some hardcore relaxation. I had made arrangements to sell my car back in the states and was provided with an advance that would help hold our finances together. Thanks Kay (that's my Mom!) for your help with that!!! Thus our most pressing psychological burdens were lifted: we were finally soluble in all of the essentials. The warm, drenching rain that poured down that afternoon washed our boat, our bodies and our spirits clean.
Evening found us regaling the neighbors with tales of the high seas, and we listened enraptured as our compatriots shared their own experiences. The kids next-door, Joslyn and took to us quickly. We traded books with them and they told us stories about their own adventures. They have been living on their boat for three years and are currently bound for New Zealand. They are getting an education that will open the entire world for them. We wish you well, amigas!
Another windfall was meeting Ken Miller and Melinda Harris. Ken took a 27 foot Defender through the Canal in the seventies and greeted our adventure with a knowing wistful smile. He and Melinda have been full of useful advice and are becoming valued friends. As I write the pair are taking an afternoon swim in the pool. Eric is also taking a swim: Ken hired him to scrape the sea scum from the bottom of his boat (we'll make a salt out of the boy yet!)
We have met others as well. Saturday afternoon Eric and I got into a conversation with a doctor staying at the hotel. It turned out he was waiting for several colleagues to arrive who will accompany him to the interior of Honduras where they will do mercy work for a group of villages there. When the cohorts arrived we were introduced. I was struck by an idea. With a gleam in my eye, I casually invited the group for an evening sail to watch the sun go down over the island. "We have to leave relatively soon," I told them, "the wind will come up just as the sun starts to set." Providence governs these things sometimes. In this particular instance providence was all about the sailing trip. No sooner had the words left my mouth than a breeze stirred the previously still palms around our table. Eyes widened and two of their number actually gave a start. We had them on board within twenty minutes and were off shore in thirty. A more beautiful evening couldn't have been made to order. The sun cooperatively sank into the rippling sea as we steered them back to harbor where they treated us to a steak dinner. Thanks guys! See you once the sailing infection has irrevocably set in! Oh, yeah, and there's no cure!
As I conclude this entry I'd like to thank all of you readers for your support and encouragement. Knowing you're there is more reassurance to us than you know or I can express. We sail tomorrow for the city of Colon, Panama, and transit to the Pacific. We will think of you all and send our love on the winds. Give a listen next time the breeze picks up.