Last spring, I lamented the fact that we had to hurry away without spending time getting to know our neighbours. We’re doing better at that this fall.

We spend our days here on Casey’s dock indulging in a mix of boat work and lethargy. When it’s really hot, we watch the birds and take an hour over coffee in the mornings. We take another hour at lunch with our liquados – smoothies whirred up in the Magic Bullet with papaya and pineapple and yogurt and local honey. When it’s a little cooler, we scrub cockpit cushions and freshen up lockers and sort through magazines and books left from last year and work away gradually at cleaning and waxing the hull. We installed the new SSB grounding coil (and it works a charm) and put the BBQ back on the rail (oops – a piece has gone missing and we’ll need to track down a new one.) We cleaned out the anchor locker and changed the flag lines and the one for the radar reflector, and continue to find a myriad of other little things that need to be attended to.

As for the evenings – why we spend them with the neighbours. Right now, that mostly means Casey. He comes over for a beer and or dinner – often some pollo or cerdo (chicken or pork) with rice and whatever vegetables I happen to have. This is a man of a million stories. He has been around the world, and has now established himself in this little bay, building, surveying and restoring boats (and a tower house and a couple of gorgeous kayaks). He has a million more ideas and we are avid listeners to the stories and the dreams. It is so good to have the time for this.

We went over to La Laguna, along with Jennifer and Casey the other night for dinner. We heard about Jennifer last year but she was away during the time we were here. I don’t know her last name – she is just called Jennifer by folks up and down the river. She rents moorings in her little bay, and takes local children to the clinic in Puerto Morales, and paints and gardens and creates all sorts of beautiful artwork – she’s been here for 20 years, and pretty much knows everyone, and we like her a lot. Along with these two neighbours, we met Sandy who cooks delicious food and Dave who tends bar with his own particular flair, and Annie who teaches and practices yoga.

I joined Jennifer at Annie’s beautiful shala on Friday for yoga, and felt like I was living in a dream – except for my stiff body, and that got better! The shala’s thatched roof rises high into the sky, spokes circling out from a long central pole that goes straight up the centre – all lashed together at the joints, and it was immensely pleasing to lie on my back and gaze upward. The flowers and shrubs of Jennifer’s garden surround it, and as birds chirped, breeze wafted through, and soft music played, Annie’s quiet voice guided us through the poses. Grounding and centering were effortless here among so many examples of connection to earth and sky.

Jim and I took the double kayak out for a paddle around the bay – gliding noiselessly past mangroves and reeds to see great egrets and kingfishers, swallows and kiskadees and – a new one to me - the colourful oropendola. We passed huge homes occupied only on vacations by rich Guatemalans, and small homes with lanchas piled high with fishing nets as the men readied them to set on the river at dusk. And on the last couple of nights, the sky was filled with stars. We get some rain most days but we’ve had over 48 hours without it now, so maybe the season is shifting.

We’ll move over to Gringo Bay to anchor on Saturday and will head up to town on Monday.