We took a little dinghy ride around Texan Bay on Thursday – weaving in and out through the creeks, nosing up to clusters of lily pads, passing slowly by numerous thatch roofed houses, trying to get pictures of the birds, and spying a low tech pile driving enterprise.

Lily pads dotted one particular creek and as I was trying to get a good picture Jim spied a new bird walking across the pads as if they were land. With the bird book consulted, we could name him a jacana (a Northern Jacana to be precise)– and a very pretty fellow he was – long legs, rusty red body with black neck and head, long yellow beak and bright yellow patch on his head. He was perfectly suited for what he was doing - delicately crossing from pad to pad, poking his beak into the flowers and appearing unafraid of us, although he kept an eye on us.

All along the banks, we found little houses – some with tin roofs and others thatched. There were often women and children in the yards, with dugouts or lanchas pulled up on the banks. It is very clear that the creeks and river are the roadways. Here and there a path winds through the trees but there are no roads, no bikes, no cars. Cayucos (dug outs that are paddled) seem to be the bicycles, and lanchas (long low fiberglass boats with outboards), the family cars.

One little girl held up a large turtle shell for us to see, and here and there would be a woman doing her wash on the river’s edge. (Back in Livingston, we saw a communal laundry spot outside Raoul’s office. There were 8 or 10 waist high, ribbed scrubbing areas made of cement, with a pool of fresh water all around at floor level. Buckets and soap completed the equipment.)

A group of men had erected a teepee sort of bamboo scaffolding and were laboriously pounding in piles. It looked like it was for a new wharf judging by the others that were already in place.

With our exploration over, we headed out into the lake and around the corner to Gringo Bay where we cruised through the protected little inner bay with a number of moorings before going back out to anchor with 2 other boats in the outer bay. Once again, we just sat and looked around with mouths agape at the beauty – until the heat got to us and we went for a swim in the fresh water.

We had heard from Cabot (Chewink) that a fellow named Casey had a place in the little bay between Texan and Gringo so we dinghied back there to see if we could find him. It was 5 o’clock when we pulled up at his red roofed workshop, and he and his 2 workers were just finishing up for the day so we stayed for a coffee and a visit.

As we have discovered over and over again, word of mouth is a wonderful thing. Casey has a couple of docks, a workshop where he has two absolutely beautiful wooden kayaks nearly finished, and his own classic wooden boat tied up out front. We spent a happy couple of hours chitchatting and by the time we went back home, we had agreed to tie up to his dock the next night. No sooner were we back on board, than Martin, a Gringo Bay resident pulled up in his launch to say hello. We had spotted his house earlier and were happy to meet him. He winters here, has a cousin in Halifax, and invited us for coffee in the morning. Wow! We have been here about 24 hours and already feel part of a community.

We sat in the cockpit, eating curried chicken and quinoa salad, watching the sky just filled with stars and thinking how incredibly wonderful it is that we are here.