The Police are really making their presence felt here this weekend, on land, water, and in the air. Both foot and mounted patrolmen are going up and down the beach and through the town. Police boats motor back and forth across the bay. A police helicopter hovers over the beach, so low you think it's going to land. There's also a big white blimp that's been hanging in one place for several days, presumably for surveillance. There was an article in the English-language newspaper about the police here and in neighboring areas. Last year, they had 18 violent deaths over the Easter weekend! We're very glad we're on a boat and not in town.
Now that my computer's operational again, I spent the morning entering the days I'd written by hand. Roy remodeled the sunshade. After lunch, we took a siesta. Then Roy went to town to phone his son Steve. Little Trevor answered the phone and immediately recognized Grandpa's voice. Steve is keeping plenty busy working. All is well. He'll forward Roy's mail here to Boqueron.
I paddled around the anchorage, looking at the boats, and then went over to the north side of the harbor, but came back in a hurry when it started to rain. I wanted to get the hose into the tank, so we could collect some rainwater, but by the time I reached the boat, the rain had stopped.
In the evening, Roy and I discussed our future plans. Roy wants to continue cruising; I want to return to California. I'm tired and need a break. Roy's been back to California twice, while I've been on the boat almost continuously for more than two years. We didn't come to any conclusions, but I feel some better just talking about it. Unfortunately, now Roy's happiness is spoiled. I had hoped I wouldn't have to bring the topic up until after we reached Aruba, but my lack of enthusiasm when he began talking about cruising the Caribbean next year gave me away.
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