Third Leg 465 miles - Barillas, El Salvador to Golfito, Costa Rica

Departure Date - April 8, 2005

5:00 AM - time to dingy the boys to shore for one last break on land.  Zeus knows something's up as it's still pitch black outside and we're going for a dingy ride?  Nice try, but I don't think so.  And the howling begins...

Back on board, we load up the dingy and prep the boat for departure.  Then we wait for the port captain to come to our boat and do whatever it is he does, sprinkle fairy dust, provide a blessing, whatever, to clear our departure.  Fortunately, he's pretty much right on time.  He proceeds to write a couple things on our paperwork which takes an excruciatingly long time for what looks to be no more than a couple of signatures and some hieroglyphics.   Completed, we thank him and expect him to go.  Instead, he starts pointing to his T-shirt collar and obviously asking us something while Fred and I stare confused at each other like "you figure out what he said, no you", (at this point, I'm now regretting not completing the Spanish for Dummies book), we figure out that he wants a T-shirt for his services.  Okay, no problem.  Should I give him one of Fred's fishing shirts, clean, but complete with fish blood stains and hook holes?  Or is he looking for something a little less weathered?  I have two new shirts with tags still on them stashed away for just such an occasion so I give him a bright yellow shirt to match his navy blue and yellow hat.  He is thrilled!  Amazing what a $10 Hanes can buy you in a third world country.  Adios, El Salvador.

There's not much to say about this leg of the journey other than for the first two days, we basically got the shit beat out of us by wind and waves.  The bow was pitching so much that it was impossible to sleep in the forward stateroom.  At one point while attempting this, I actually levitated off the bed.  Kinda like being on that ride "The Rotor" where the floor drops out and you're suspended??   Yeah, I never like that ride either.  Besides the inability to actually stay put, the noise of the waves crashing into the bow must be what it's like being a goldfish inside an aquarium while some kid is banging on the glass.  Do the fish a favor, don't tap on the glass.

Fred did have an incident on a night shift with a bird flying into the pilot house (again) and before he could get to it, Thor mistook it for his midnight snack delivery.  Dominoes Delivers!!!  Eventually, Thor did relinquished his "snack" and Fred was able to set him free.  How far he made it is anybody's guess.

Sunday brings flat seas and calm winds...woohoo!!!  The one thing we spot this time is marlin sunning on the surface.  Fred had begun to think that there were no fish in the sea given his run of luck with his "me man, me catch fish" routine.  Four pretty marlins just sitting on the surface, taunting him.  They were gone in a flash before we could even get the boat within reach to drag the lines by them.  Poor Fred. 

We arrive off Golfito's coast around 6:00 am on Monday. I will say one thing, Costa Rica has the prettiest coastline we've approached yet.  Lush & green, we feel like we've finally hit the tropics.  The water on the other hand is really not good.  Because of all the runoff from the "rich coast", the waters are green and murky.  They'll be no diving here that's for sure.

We dock in at Banana Bay Marina.  We are pleased to find out that the restaurant here is actually pretty good, which in our short experience, is a real treat as most of the restaurants associated with marinas are not very good.  Hey, you've got a captive audience so why try for anything other than mediocrity, right?  This place, however, makes a rockin' burger and we get to kick back and take some rest time for the afternoon.  The next two days are spent cleaning the boat and prepping for the next leg. 

The one downside to this location was that there was nowhere to walk the dogs as there were loads of loose, stray dogs in either direction outside the gate of the marina.  Since we'd already had the one altercation with a dog in Barra and I wasn't up for another run to the doctor's for more stitches, we decide on walking them in a cemetery across the street.  This, btw, gives me the creeps.  I try and look at this as a unique, educational experience.  Instead, I have a flashback to "Jeremiah Johnson".  You know the part where Robert Redford is taking the soldiers across the mountain pass to get to some stranded pioneers and they come across a Sioux burial site?  He doesn't want to cross it as it's considered sacred ground and the snot nose preacher convinces him he's just being superstitious and been out in the wilderness too long so he concedes and leads them though.  Well, he comes back and if you've seen the movie you know the rest.  Always go with your first instinct I say.

It's difficult to determine how old some of these headstones and crypts are.  Some higher on the hill are very simple crosses and are so weathered that no writing can be made out.  Obviously, that's where they started this landscaping adventure, so those are most assuredly the oldest, but how old is undeterminable.  Other's look like they are fairly new (at least the last 50 years) and on further inspection of the grounds, we come across what looks to be a FRESH grave...ugh!!!!  Okay, I'm outta here.  Gravesite or no gravesite, the dogs don't seem to care and are just happy to be walking on terra firma.   Zeus does start to dig at one point while chasing a lizard, but we stop that pretty quickly.  Nothing good can come of digging in a cemetery, right?  One day while walking up the hill, I spot a woman, out of the corner of my eye sitting on top of one of the crypts.  For a second, I wasn't sure if she was real or I was having one of those "I see dead people" moments.  This further solidifies my feelings towards cemeteries, particularly ones with crypts.  They're inherently creepy and I want no part of them in this life OR the next.

Our stay is in Costa Rica is short and we get ready to leave on Thursday for our last leg to The Panama Canal.