Logs & Stories - October 2002

October 23 - Being bugged in Puerto Refugio

(Email via Maritime Mobile Radio Service)

I don't even want to know how long it's been since I actually sent something in to be put on the web site. I have assured the webmaster that we have several web updates under way (we do, honestly!), but we're obviously not getting them finished, let alone sent to the webmaster in a timely manner. So this is just to let everyone know where we are at the moment. (Web Guy Note: Up dates are usually posted within 24 hours of receipt. Of course it's easier for me since I'm not playing in paradise so there are far fewer distractions to get in the way!)

We're at the northern end of Isla Angel de la Guarda, along with three million bubitos and about half a million no-see-ums. I'm swatting between typing words. Bubitos don't bite, they just crawl all over you, seeming to prefer mouths, noses and eyes for hanging out. We spent the the first 48 hours we were here inside, with Bill catching up on his reading and me frantically designing and sewing netting hatch covers. Nothing like a little motivation to get something done! Fortunately, we don't seem to have many no-see-ums on the boat anymore, although Jackson and I have enough bites already. As long as I don't start scratching, I'm ok; otherwise I get lost in the bliss of attempting to remove the top layer from the skin of my legs.

After the first 48 hours, the local westerlies (called elephantes, after the clouds that look like elephant trunks) blew in, the bugs mostly blew away, and we had a wonderful time exploring the north end of the island. It's spectacular and beautiful, and I hope all our pictures come out, although I think the panoramic views just don't translate to pictures.

Late this afternoon, the winds died, the bugs returned and we hope to head south tomorrow. With Hurricane Kenna down in southern Mexico, we'd like to be in Puerto Don Juan, the hurricane hole for the north end of the Sea. It's getting colder, so we need to start heading south, even though we know it means all the work associated with a haulout. Ah, trouble in paradise...