![\"View](\"http:\/\/sailingmilou.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/DSC_2609.jpg\")
<\/a>Last night, we were too wiped out after a long day of travel to wash up after dinner, so the galley is a wreck. I put the kettle on for coffee and grind the beans by hand, then attack the dish situation. By the time the last of the hot water is poured over the freshly-ground beans, the dishes are cleaned\u2014in cold water, which is actually more like 80-degree water, reflecting the water temp outside. Of course, the dishes are now stacked all over the lid of the fridge, so I need to dry them off and put them away to begin the breakfast process.<\/p>\n
By 8:30, things are looking promising. I\u2019ve decided to invent French Toast Pancakes, to use up the leftover pancakes from the other day in a way that doesn\u2019t involve using the oven or steaming them soggy. It works, more or less. I try to persuade the kids to use up the weirdo cherry pie filling that we picked up in Jamaica, but they\u2019re not having it, and opt for cinnamon sugar instead; we\u2019ve been without maple syrup for months.<\/p>\n
9:15, and T is plowing through his Rosetta Stone Spanish lesson. He has a love\/hate relationship with the software; he loves getting the work done and checking it off his list, but the computer frequently fails to understand him, and he ends up yelling random Spanish phrases with increasing frustration. F is paging through a book by Steve Sheinkin about the American Revolution, but it\u2019s really a stalling tactic; she needs to start her report on the Panama Canal today\u2014almost two months after transiting\u2014and she\u2019s not into it.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, it\u2019s been three weeks since we\u2019ve seen a laundromat, and the old E-scow jib bag in the saloon is starting to ferment. We\u2019re long on fresh water at the moment, and the sun is shining, so I haul the bag up to the cockpit and sort Essential from Non-essential clothing. Towels and sheets will wait for civilization; we should be in Boca Chica in three days, and Golfito in little over a week\u2014the heavy duty laundry can be done there. For now, I plunge the most important clothing into a half-filled four-gallon bucket with a little castille soap, swish it around by hand for a few minutes, and let it soak.<\/p>\n 10:45, and Michu has a simultaneous math situation going on downstairs. F is working on probability; T is doing some kind of crazy skip-counting. Both kids are doing math that is frankly beyond me; I\u2019m sure I could work it out by reviewing their entire chapter in math, but fortunately Michu majored in math, so he\u2019s all over it (you should have seen his enthusiasm for base two last week with T). They\u2019ve already put away their Spanish, grammar, and spelling, and have gotten a good jump on their Panama Canal reports; math is the last thing on their list for today, although F will probably bust out the violin towards the evening.<\/p>\n Outside, the sun is high, and we can see the reefs on the edge of this small bay. It\u2019s low tide, and we\u2019re anchored in about 20 feet of water, but we can see the bottom clearly. There\u2019s a very fancy-looking boutique resort in this bay, and I\u2019m sure they\u2019re all enjoying the view of our undies drying on the lifelines\u2014although from the looks of the lights on shore last night, not many people are staying here at the moment.<\/p>\n 12:30. The kids are enjoying some post-school video game time. A sea turtle swims by as we launch the dinghy. Breakfast dishes are done and put away, and the cast-iron pan is heating dry in the sun under the dodger. No one is wearing any clothing beyond underwear. I really want to dump out our compost, but the tide\u2019s coming in, and I don\u2019t want our onion peels to end up on the resort beach; I\u2019ll wait until after dinner.<\/p>\n 1:15: everyone in the water! After some shuffling for wetsuits, sunscreen, goggles and gear, we head out in the dinghy towards some promising-looking rocks. The water turns silted closer to shore, and we don\u2019t see much for wildlife\u2014some disarmingly small fish (everyone), and one banded sea snake (Michu). We hike up a very short trail in our tender bare feet to the top of a small cliff and survey the realm. On our way to the main resort beach, we run out of gas, as expected; we wanted to use up the older fuel in the engine tank. We bust out some paddles and schlep to the beach, where we practice our Spanish with a friendly construction worker. There are no guests at the resort at the moment; everything\u2019s under construction for the next five months. No gin and tonics at the bar! We paddle back.<\/p>\n It\u2019s 3:20, and we\u2019re all a bit sun-frazzled. The heat has been cooking up some thunderstorms on the mainland, so we pull in the dry laundry before any rain has a chance to work it\u2019s way to us. Everyone rinses off in the solar shower, hangs their soggy swimsuits on the lifelines, and retires below for reading and cookies. F listens to a Dear Hank and John podcast downloaded months ago at Shelter Bay; T embarks on an epic LEGO project. Michu has fallen down a hole in his Kindle, and can\u2019t look up from his terrible Jack Reacher novel.<\/p>\n By 5:30, the boat interior is getting hot\u2014the banana bread has been in the oven for an hour, and has used half of our precious stock of fresh eggs. Smells pretty good, though. Fortunately, the Islas Secas are living up to their name; the storms have stayed on the mainland, and all our hatches are open to let the heat escape. I\u2019m pulling together dinner with diminished food stores\u2014pasta with a lemony cream sauce, tuna, maybe some capers. We have one wedge of cabbage left that will go into a pork fried rice tomorrow, and that\u2019ll be it for fresh veggies, with the exception of the stalwart onions, garlic, and potatoes. Generally, we don\u2019t go too nuts with fresh fruit and veg when we provision; our fridge is small, things rot quickly in the heat of the tropics if not kept cold, and we can usually find basics in towns along the way. During our travels, we\u2019ve had dozens of pangas sell us carrots, pineapples, cucumbers, potatoes and onions; no one has ever had mozzarella. So, we tend to fill our cold storage with cheese, butter, and meat. On this trip, we\u2019ve struck out for veggies\u2026yet somehow, the kids soldier on.<\/p>\n 7:25, dinner is over and we\u2019re finishing up an episode of the West Wing. We don\u2019t really use regular textbooks for civics around here, but we\u2019ve been working our way through the West Wing as a way to understand US politics and government, and as a vehicle for discussing current affairs. Tonight we talked about the FEC and election reform. It\u2019s sprinkling outside, so we\u2019ve got the hatches closed, and it\u2019s hot. On the plus side, dinner was delicious, and breakfast is all set for tomorrow\u2014banana bread. T\u2019s doing logic problems, F\u2019s reading in her room, and I\u2019m about to dig into some new books I\u2019ve just put on my Kindle. Michu hoists the dinghy out of the water; we have zero expectations of theft in this bay, but we\u2019re trying to instill best practices by stowing everything, every night, so we don\u2019t run into trouble in theft-prone areas.<\/p>\n The kids will turn in around eight, and Michu and I will be in bed by around ten. Tomorrow, we might move the big boat around to the other side of this island\u2014we hear there are manta rays over there\u2014or we might just explore the other side of the bay, where the construction guy thought we might find lobster. Then it\u2019s off to Boca Chica, for a little time back in civilization. I open my eyes. It\u2019s about 7:20 in the morning, and nothing is stirring. This anchorage is as peaceful as being tied up to a pier, which is a blessing after several rolly bays that had us heading … <\/p>\n<\/a><\/a><\/a>We have what could charitably be called a banana problem. We purchased a stalk of red bananas from a passing panga in Isla del Rey; the guy claimed they\u2019d be ripe in four days, more or less. By the time they were actually ripe\u2014a week and a half later\u2014we were in Bahia Honda, and our friend Domingo was piling ripe bananas into our hands. Day two of peanut butter and banana sandwiches is not making a dent, and after lots of badgering, no one will voluntarily reach for a banana as a snack anymore. I resolve to make banana bread with the half bag of chocolate chips hidden at the bottom of the fridge, and pull out half a pound of butter to warm. Despite having two laptops plugged in for most of the morning, plus the running of four fans and a laboring fridge, our state of charge for the boat is 100%. The family hoovers an entire pineapple in about five minutes.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/a><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"