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Speaking of architecture, one day, while we were sitting in a small, thatched hut/bar having a beer, we were approached by a distinguished looking old gentleman dressed in shabby, white pants, colourful shirt and a wide brimmed straw hat. It turned out that he had been a very successful architect in New Orleans, had visited Utila, fell in love with the island, left his wife and family and proceeded to build what he now calls "Duncan's Folly". After spending several million dollars on what could have become a beautiful and spectacular resort complex on top of the only hill in Puerto Este, he went broke before he could finish it. It is now abandoned, with local squatters living in the various half finished buildings and sites next to beautifully carved, but rotting Indian, wooden "stelae" and stone figures, fountains (minus water) and other fabulous, paved plazas. Duncan, (abt. 75), is now obviously broke, but is happily remarried to a very young local Caribbean woman, has three children under the age of 10 - and best of all, is still able to laugh at his misfortune! After Puerto Este, we sailed out to some small cays called, Suck-Suck, Diamond and Pigeon Cays. These little coral islands barely stick up above the water and are literally covered with clapboard houses built on pilings right to and out past the water's edge. They are built on pilings because of hurricanes (water and waves), air ventilation, shade, insects, crabs, etc. etc. Outhouses and the poorer buildings housing blacks and Indians are at the end of wooden docks/pilings over the water. There is a definite class distinction here too with the whites of mostly British background living in the neat, well kept homes built on the actual islands. All together, there must have been about 60-70 houses and plus/minus 300 people living on these tiny cays, totalling not more than 5-10 acres! They were a happy, friendly and carefree bunch - but you sure could see the results of extensive "inbreeding" thereÖ.. We talked to one woman from whom we bought some delicious home made coconut bread and mango jam. The last Hurricane Gilbert, filled the total space underneath her house with rock, sand, shells and corals. She told us that when hurricanes come their way, and the red alert is showing on the tracking charts posted at the village square, all the people lock up their homes, abandon the village and the island and go to the top of the hill of Utila, near Duncan's Folly - and hope for the best. As we seem to be making a habit of finding our way into tight, but sheltered anchorages behind breaking reefs with narrow entrances and exits, the anchorage between Suck-Suck and Diamond Cays turned out to be no exception. And as usual, after we come in under calm conditions with the sun and the light behind us so we can see the deeper channels between the coral heads, it started to blow up and we were stuck for several days. This time, we were snug behind the reefs, listening to the howling wind and thunder from the large waves breaking against and over the reefs. We enjoyed the wait this time, talking to the old people, watching women and fishermen and divers who sit at the local town square discussing and gossiping about this and that.Ö Finally, we also got a chance to catch up on some reading for a change. The fishermen in the square cheerfully told us that this wind and weather may not change until the next "change of moon" - could be several weeks! Anyway, one day it did change, and as soon as the waves had calmed down, we were off on an overnight trip to Puerto Cortes on the Honduran mainland where we had to officially check out of Honduras. Puerto Cortes is the export town for bananas, and while we were there, we saw three clean, white Chicuita Banana ships in one day, heading east to the United States and Europe. We bought top rate bananas for three cents a piece here - the best we have ever eaten!
Our next major stop was Livingston, which is the check-in port in Guatemala and the entrance to Rio Dulce and Lakes Isabel and Golfete, where we were going to leave "NOR SIGLAR" during the hurricane season. Since Rio Dulce (Sweet River) is supposed to be a beautiful and totally safe place to be during the hurricane season, there just had to be a snag somewhere. And it was. This time, the snag was a shallow sandbar stretching about a mile across and about Ω mile deep at the entrance to Livingston and the river. Most of the bar is 5 feet below water with a very narrow channel about 100 feet wide and slightly over 6 feet at high tide. The tide here is only about a foot and the only way for us, drawing 6-1/2 feet (2m), was to come in at what is called "high-high" tide, which is only twice a month depending on the moon. Shallow River Bars and Nerves on End Thursday, July 9 was such a day, and after having contacted other sailors on the ham radio and the so-called port captain at Livingston, we thought the high-high tide was at 1730 hrs. We were two hours early to make sure we understood the ranges and marker for finding the channel and to get everything ready. My neck and shoulders were already starting to feel like at budget time at work in the "good old days"! We loaded as much weight as possible (cans of fuel, spare anchor, outboard engine, etc. etc.) into the dinghy and pumped out our fresh water tanks to lift the boat as much as possible. The wind started to build up behind us - the easterly trade winds, and after a couple of trial runs outside the entrance marker, we found out that the dinghy was going faster than us with the strong wind and large waves that were building up. So we lengthened the line to the dinghy to 200 feet and were ready! Excitement over the Radio Waves - and a wee Dram By this time, it was time for Anne's Pacific Maritime Net on the ham radio and since we had half an hour to go, I agreed that she could listen in for a little while. She had been trying to get Norway for the last 8 months without luck - and would you believe it: Just now, the net controller said that they had someone from Anne's home town on the frequency looking for her! And suddenly, in boomed the voice of a guy called Bjorn! And that wasn't the end of it. While Anne, with great excitement, talked to Bjorn, a female voice broke in, in Norwegian also, saying she was Kari from Pitcairn (the island of the Mutiny of Bounty). Kari is married to a Young, one of Fletcher Christian's chief officers' descendants! Now it was 1725 and I was starting to get nervous and yelled to Anne to get the hell up in the cockpit. It was time to go for it! She reluctantly broke off her calls - had a good excuse, mind you, and we started to go slowly in - just fast enough to keep the dinghy from catching up. We both had our eyes glued to the ranges, the compass and the depth sounder. It got shallower and shallower and suddenly the depth sounder measure 2 meters and the boat started to slow down. I could feel a couple of slight bumps, and the next thing I know, a couple of big waves came over the stern, half filling the cockpit and soaked us to the chest - we were obviously going too slow. We had no choice, however. We were now committed, and I gave the engine full throttle. This, plus the big waves, pushed us over the sand bar. We touched bottom just 2-3 times. We were both nervous wrecks by the time we reached Livingston where we grabbed our "Linje Akevitt" and had a couple of stiff drams. Thunder Squalls and Theft in the Night That wasn't the end of it as there were two more challenges before the next morning. We had heard that the fishermen at Livingston seal anything they can get their hands on, so we stripped the boat for anything loose on deck and even hoisted the dinghy onboard. Anne had just finished cooking dinner and while we were sitting down, a sudden thunderstorm or tropical "squall" came over us and spun the boat around 360 degrees in only 10 seconds. It rained so hard that we couldn't even see if we were dragging anchor in the 50-knot gusts. The GPS showed us to be in the same spot, though, thank God! Before going to bed, Anne put the garbage out in the cockpit in a bucket. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring in my good Henry Lloyd boat shoes. Sure enough, the next morning the bucket, including the smelly trash and my shoes were gone! At abt. 9 o'clock, the usual delegation showed up, the Port Captain, Immigration, Customs and this time also the local police chief. I jokingly told him that my shoes were stolen, and he seriously asked me for the colour of the shoes and the laces!
The Palapas and Jungles of the Mayas So much for Livingston, and after having checked in and received our three month cruising permit, we headed up Rio Dulce, which met all our expectations. Large, deep river with steep canyons and tropical trees, lianas and other vegetation right to the river bank. The river winds its way abt. 8 miles to the first lake called El Golfete, where we stayed at anchor for a few days. The current in the river was quite strong, abt. 2-3 knots. Maya Indians with local knowledge hugged the riverbanks in their dugout cayukoes to keep out of the strongest current. They were almost hidden from view by vines and creepers trailing down from overhanging bluffs high above. Riverboats with tourists sped by. The shoreline was dotted by small palapa huts, homes of the Mayas, their women bathing topless in the river and children playing naked and barefoot nearby. Fishermen were throwing their nets gracefully in large circles - a very beautiful and tranquil scene. Luxury in the Middle of No-where On July 14, we continued across El Golfete lake (abt. 10 miles long) up Rio Dulce another five miles, to a point where the river widens out to almost another small lake, and where there are several nice marinas and beautiful summer homes owned by wealthy Guatemalans. Here, Marios Marina was to be "NOR SIGLAR's" home for a couple of months or more, while we went on land trips in Guatemala and went home to Canada and Norway for a visit. Marios Marina is lovely with a swimming pool, a small store, a palapa bar with TV, a small restaurant, laundry and shower facilities. It is run by a very pleasant Welsh couple, and best of all, it is very cheap! $95 per month! This included airing out the boat daily while we were away, washing down the decks, dusting below and starting up the engine, if we wanted that too. Stool Samples, Hook Worms and Dr. Helen's Casa Guatemala The next ten days were spent at the Marina cleaning the boat, doing some service and repair work, shopping at a small town nearby and a bit of socialising with the other yachties. We even found time for a bit of reading, something which we both enjoy immensely, but haven't had a chance to do much of, during the last 30 years or so during busy careers. We were both feeling quite run-down, particularly me, and we also had a touch of Montezuma's Revenge. One night, Dr. Helen, a young, pretty, black Scottish-Jamaican doctor, came to the marina and talked about the work she was doing as a volunteer at the local orphanage, "Casa Guatemala". The Marina had organised an auction to raise money for the orphanage, and managed to get in over $2,000! As a token of appreciation, she then offered her services free of charge to the cruisers, knowing full well that many of us didn't feel too well. So the next morning a whole little dinghy flotilla set out to see her with stool samples carefully camouflaged in their hands, which Dr. Helen looked at under her microscope. And guess what: I had hook worms! This explained why I had been feeling so worn out lately and had lost abt. 20 lbs. during a 3-month period. Dr. Helen cured me in a hurry and I was fine by the time we went home a few days later. Crime and Pollution, dental Work and missing Mail Having made all the arrangements with the Marina and friends to ensure that the boat was in good hands during our 8-week absence, we took off for our land trips. The last week of July, we spent in Guatemala City, the capital with a population of approx. 1.2 million and serious crime and pollution problems. Needless to say, we only stayed there as long as we absolutely had to. Martin needed a crown on a broken tooth and four appointments later, he was satisfied that he had a very professionally done crown at one-third the price in Canada. That helps now that we don't have a dental plan! Also, we spent a lot of time running around looking for a mail parcel from home. It never arrived. Rumours had it that Guatemala was confiscating U. S. and Canadian mail and faxes in protest of Amnesty International's presence with a team of observers monitoring the torture of political prisonersÖ. We spent three days trying to get a cheap airfare home, no easy matter in a country where flying is not an everyday matter. Symphony and armed Security, Street Patrols and Money in Shoes The only pleasant memory we have from the Capital is the concert we attended at the modern theatre complex by the National Symphony Orchestra. We were surprised to see so few attend - maybe abt. 200 privileged people in a concert hall that could seat abt. 2000! We were also taken aback by the heavy security - 7 armed guards at the main entrances. The strong military presence was something we found a bit hard to take. Big truckloads of soldiers/police would arrive in the early evening in the centre of the city, wearing army fatigues and guns. They patrolled the streets in three-some, and we got the definite impression that this wasn't really the place to be for a long time. We had also been warned of the high incidence of robberies in the city, so we carried money on different parts of the body, never carried a purse or pack unless we had to, and kept a keen lookout at all times. Nothing happened to us - guess we were lucky. "Chicken Buses" and nursing Babies We were glad when we had completed our errands and could head for the Highlands of Guatemala. Our first stop was Lago Atitlan, 145 km to the north, an absolutely gorgeous lake at 1500 m altitude. We took the "chicken bus" at $1 each and enjoyed the trip amongst brightly costume clad women, most of them nursing a baby at the breast. The road wound its way through perfectly manicured minuscule plots of corn and vegetables among modest huts. Martin was impressed to see that they practice agro forestry. The area was very fertile and beautifully kept. Spectacular Lakes and bustling Markets Three live volcanoes surround Lago Atitlan. It is a very touristy place with lots of gringos, restaurants and full time market stalls with specially made items for the tourist trade. Knowing that, we waited with our purchases till we visited Chichicastenango, a small Maya village in the mountains, which is famous for its Thursday and Sunday market days. Chichi is the "metropolis" of the Maya-Quiche highlands with a population of 5,000 during the week, but 20,000 on market days, when Indians living in the hills around, flood the town with their wares, and tourists come from afar to enjoy the spectacle. The town is built around a square plaza with two churches facing one another. One is pure catholic, the other a mixture of catholic and Native Indian, where certain old rituals were allowed, i.e. incense burning outside on the steps to scare evil spirits awayÖ. It was a moving sight to see Indians actually crawling on their knees along the aisle up to their patron saint to pray for his favours. Where Men embroider and Women weave The most impressive sight in the village apart from the market itself was the women in their colourful costumes and the large bundles of gladiola they were selling. Even the men wore costumes - shortwaisted embroidered jackets, knickers with woven sashes and straw hats. They have an eye for fashion as they embroider the beautiful "huipiles" that their women wear! Men embroider - women do the weaving! And how! All kinds of blankets, shawls, table cloths and runners, head scarves, wall hangings, etc. etc., much for tourist trade, but also local stuff, all in traditional patterns and bright colours. Bargaining is relentless - the children are trained early and they are so cute that I am sure you end up paying much more than the "real price", but then everything is so cheap there anyway! That is for us Gringos! I was loaded down with all sorts of weaving for myself and gifts before I had to tear myself away, get on the bus and head for Lago Atitlan, where Martin was flat on his back in the hotel room. Yes, he had another bout with it again this summer - almost for 2 months - but is as good as new now. We spent a week in Antigua, which was the ancient capital city of Guatemala until it was heavily damaged by earthquake in 1773. In the late 1500's, it was the finest city in Central America with a population of 60,000 people. Today, it has 30,000 and a fantastic number of great churches, cathedrals, convents and landmark buildings dating back to this era. Almost all of them have been damaged at one time or another by a quake, the latest being in 1976. A common sight is Indian women sitting amid the ruins in their colourful costumes weaving and selling their beautiful art. Very picturesque. Spanish Lessons, Family Hotels and Gourmet Meals at Bargain Basement Prices The town is virtually overrun by North Americans and Europeans who come here to go to Spanish school, of which there are over 30! Martin and I seriously considered taking lessons for a couple of weeks, but as usual, we ran out of time. Too bad, because our Spanish was improving, and a crash course would have done us well. And the price was right, i.e. $100 per person per week which covered a teacher for 4 hours per day, meals and accommodation with a local, Spanish speaking family. In other words, total immersion. If one wanted to, one could have from 4 - 7 hours of instruction per day, depending on how seriously one wanted to study. We stayed at a wonderful family hotel in Antigua with an inner courtyard. It was very peaceful and a great place for Martin to rest his aching back while I was running around enjoying the sights and the people and soaking up every possible impression to its maximum. The hotel was one of the older ones in Antigua, and very charming. At a price of $25 per night, we didn't really mind if the shower wasn't always hot - something we have had to get used to when travelling inland in Central America. In the hot temperature it was just as well with a cool shower, anyway. We took breakfast in the garden every morning - how civilised! The food in Guatemala is great - a close second to Mexico. The price was much lower, though. Breakfast was usually $2 per person, with bacon, eggs and the works. The coffee was the best we have had so far. It comes right from the Highlands, cultivated at over 1,500 meter altitude. We had fresh fruit (tropical) every day, and are ashamed to admit that we were beginning to have cravings for an ordinary green appleÖ The Olympics in Barcelona was on while we were in the Highlands, and we tried to watch them on TV. However, between the poor reception and our lack of Spanish sports jargon, we didn't get very much out of it. Rapes at Gunpoint, Robberies and such.. I had wanted very badly to hike one of the volcanoes in the Highlands but was strongly discouraged by the official government tourist office. They obviously didn't want to have any responsibility for the actions by locals, who have been known to attack/rob tourists in the wilderness. That's why I thought I would go with a group and guide, but even that was discouraged. As recent as a year ago, a group of 20 had been robbed and 3 women raped at gunpoint by locals while the husbands were watching. It is rumoured that some people in the mountain villages are very, very poor and also illiterate. They like the money tourism brings in, but they don't necessarily like the people themselvesÖ I guess that's why we saw so many policemen with blue armbands with "Policia Touristica" written on them. If you stick around civilisation, they look after you well. However, if you wonder into the Hinterlands, they can't guarantee your safety. So much for our hike up the volcanoesÖ We were ready to go home, to see familiar faces and relax. Hot showers, familiar food and customs seemed such a luxury after such a long time away. So we thoroughly enjoyed our stay in Vancouver and Norway in August and September and were almost getting used to the "old" ways again when it was time to return. It was hard to say good bye, but then we had to get back to our "grand lady", NOR SIGLAR, who was waiting for us in the jungle! Copyright © Anne Brevig & Martin Vennesland. www.norsiglar.com | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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NORWEGIAN 
Maya indians carving cayuko (Rio Dulce, Guatemala) 
Dinghy explorations among a sea of hyasinths in the middle of the Guatemala jungle 
Skipper playing Robinson Crusoe on his No. 1 favourite island in Paradise, Rendez-vous Cay in Belize