Sunday, May 16, 1993

What a fun day! Roy's feeling much, much better. Almost back to normal. In the morning, we went paddling. We hated to put our Royaks into this filthy water, not to mention our feet, but we soon got to the outer harbor, where the water is clean and clear. Paddled to a lagoon, inside a reef and between two islands. The water was the most beautiful shade of blue, as warm as a heated pool, and so clear, we could practically count the grains of sand on the bottom. Roy snorkeled, and I floated around, enjoying. We saw some tiny, brightly colored fish, yellow and purple, about an inch long. Also saw some slightly larger fish, some white and some black or dark brown. A couple of young boys were playing nearby, having a ball. Black rainclouds moved in, cooling the air. It was so pleasant and refreshing.
Returned to the boat just as the rain began coming down in earnest. Took showers to rinse off. It's interesting taking a shower in the rain. (No roof, remember?) It's even more interesting trying to dry off in the rain, but somehow I managed. Roy didn't bother.
After lunch, we took a fun ride on a local bus. We wanted to go towards the north end of the island, but the bus headed towards Coxen's Hole. However, instead of going to the "downtown" area, it went down residential streets, so we got to see a lot more of the town. It's a lot larger than we thought. Most of the streets are narrow dirt roads, and most of the houses are on stilts. Coxen's Hole is a lot cleaner than French Harbor.
When the bus reached the end of the line, we got off and walked back through town. All the stores were closed for Sunday, except for a few tiny little "grocery" stores, and I mean tiny. Roy was thirsty, so we went in one to get him a cold soda. To our surprise, the clerk was a gringo! He was from Florida and has lived here five years. He certainly can't be making much money in that broom closet of a store. We speculated he might have come here to avoid arrest for something or other in the states. He was in his fifties and seemed to be of normal intelligence. I just can't imagine any U.S. citizen wanting to live here for any length of time, but some do. There was a man in front of me in the bank yesterday who said he's lived here for twelve years, and the people who run the yacht club are gringos. There are also a lot of gringo missionaries.
We walked out the other side of town to the highway. Came to the airport. They have a good airstrip here and an excellent traffic control tower.
After exploring the airport, we continued walking along the highway. No buses came by, so we finally took a cab back to the yacht club.
Finally managed to get Barbra on the phone. This was my third attempt. We invited her to fly down to Belize and sail with us for a few days, but she wasn't able to do so.
I still don't know when my high school reunion is going to take place, but I've about given up hope of being able to attend, so we're going to slow down a little and enjoy the beautiful islands and atolls of Belize.