Monday December 2, 2013
Thank the lord, this day has finally come. Not that I don’t absolutely love Guatemala, a country that will now always be a part of me, but I’m happy to once and for all be making my way out of her. Which has been no easy feat, since she had decided to dig her claws deep into us and make it very hard to go. Not only were we suffering from a bout of bad weather windows, but a few days ago when we threw on the engine to power our batteries, our alternator bracket snapped in half. It didn’t even take two minutes before we had the part off and were in our dinghy, seeking out Luis’ help since our new welding friend Thomas is off on holiday and we needed to find the next best guy. Bringing us to town and guiding us into a tuk-tuk, we rambled out the main road of Fronteras until we were on the outskirts of town and up to a little house that held the local welder. Between a few conversations, two days, and $18 later, we had a new bracket in our hands and a weather window to get.the.hell.out.
There’s a slack tide tomorrow just after noon, and we’d like to position ourselves to be in Livingston and checked out of the country in time to catch it. From there it will be somewhere between 60 to 100 miles to our first anchorage in the outer cays of Belize, we haven’t quite decided on one yet. The big job for today though, is to move ourselves from our comfortable little home of Fronteras, which we’ve gotten to know and love so much, down the river about 12 miles where we’ll be anchoring overnight in a safe little bay that’s popular among cruisers.
The was a mixture of feelings flowing today as we upped anchor from in front of our old marina. Excitement to be moving again and seeing new things, and heartache to be leaving a place that’s grown so special in our hearts.
The trip down the river was incredibly relaxing and just reinforced the traveling lifestyle once more, an afternoon sun casting golden rays on the surrounding landscape. Once we were in the safety and wide spaces of the Golfete, I felt safe that Matt wouldn’t crash the boat into anything (damn his short attention span for steering!) I took a seat up near the bow to fully immerse myself in the tranquility around me and find asylum from the dirty looks Matt was giving me from adding Kraken to my Pepsi at two o’clock in the afternoon. Hey, we’re finally traveling again, this is a cause for celebration.
After two and a half hours of motoring, we set our anchor down in the little bay with four other cruisers that looked like they had the same plan we did, to escape first thing in the morning. Even though the setting wasn’t quite secluded, it was undoubtedly gorgeous, and we couldn’t help but pull our sport a seats out on deck to enjoy the view along with a good book until the sun went down. Finally the early evening chill and swarms of bugs drove us indoors, and now I start my batch of chili so that we’ll have a pre-made dinner to eat on passage tomorrow.
Although we didn’t move far today, moving at all has made a world of difference from what we’ve been used to for so long now. The excitement, the anticipation, the unknown. Dare I say, I’m actually eager to get back out there and begin cruising again.
Leaving Tortugal behind for the last time.