February 17

Attempting to travel from Panamarina (boonies) to Quatro Alto shopping center (close to Colon), Astartes and I waited on road, 3 kilometers from marina, for an hour and a half as two full buses passed us by, to stand for an hour of the hour and a half trip in a converted school bus with no hand holds and a driver with spastic-brake-foot syndrome. Michael asked rhetorical question, "why are we doing this?", to receive rhetorical answer "will get back to you". This particular adventure took all day to buy groceries, have lunch, store purchases and eventually indulge in dessert, ala Sylvie, and adult beverage back at marina.

Indeed, why? Every such adventure while cruising, up with which few people would put (blame Mrs. McCaskel, high school English teach who was always highly disappointed in me), is a patch in the quilt of a fuller existence. Does the lifestyle engendering this sort of ordeal make one happier than the guys who are born, live and die within a 50 mile radius and talk in their elding (not a real word) of the time they drove to Disney World for a week? Not likely. Although some individuals are congenitally happy (or otherwise), that state seems more to evolve from meeting ones own expectations than from anything else. Some people need to know and some may just intuitively know better.

"Money doesn't always bring happiness. People with ten million dollars are no happier than people with nine million dollars." - Hobart Brown

Last day here, tomorrow, will consist in settling bill (always a lovely experience), changing engine oil (ditto) and preparing boat for forecast 9 foot seas during expected 5 hour sail to Shelter Bay on Friday where 5 shipped packages will presently appear. (Another triumph of hope over experience?)

Jack