Ignacio
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Moored Estero Pindo This morning we parted company with Persimmon, they headed a short distance west to a marina while I decided to stay here in Estero Pindo and have another attempt at fixing a couple of problems, namely the alternator and the lower side lights. I had a win on one, the alternator which turned out to be a slipping drive belt, but struck out on the sidelights. I tracked down the wire from stem to stern (almost) - through the cable locker, under the V-berth, though the hanging closet, under several floor boards, under the companionway steps, under the cockpit, through the switchboard panel apart and found … nothing. This leaves only the pulpit, the stainless steel tubing that forms the guardrail around the bow. Bother! That involves a lot of work to rewire - a job I will leave for another day. After all that crawling around I was rather dirty so went ashore in search of the inn which is mentioned in the cruising guide book, thinking I might find a shower. I asked a local, Ignacio, who we had met earlier in the day. It seems Ignacio loves yachts and he had visited Sylph and Persimmon in the morning with his sister. Ignacio is very sweet but his sister told us that he suffered a epileptic seizure when he was two and his behaviour can be a little unusual. He initially took me to the small supermarket for some reason, where I bought a couple of items, then we ended up back at his place. He disappeared and returned a short while later carrying a large gas cylinder which he connected up, then lit the stove and started boiling a kettle of water, then he placed a large plastic tub in his bath tub. Hmm! This was not quite what I was after, I could boil water and have a wash just as easily on board. I tried to communicate more clearly the idea of whether there was an inn or hostel in the small village, but Ignacio thought I wanted to sleep, and for fear of him offering me a bed for the night I decided now was the time to beat a hasty retreat. I did my best to apologise with my very meagre Spanish, and eventually I managed to escape, I hope without causing offence, but not before Ignacio tried to sell me some cheap tourist mugs at an outrageous price. I was a little relieved to get back on board Sylph where I boiled some water for a birdbath in the heads. I was half way through this when a large boat appeared in the head’s window. It was obvious that the owner of the mooring had returned. I hastily dried myself, donned some clothes and went on deck. The crew were busily securing themselves to Sylph and when I asked, or rather mimed the idea of returning the mooring rope to them they cheerfully communicated in charades that they were very happy for me to remain where I was. Now for dinner. All is well. Bob Cat: A quiet day, tuna for dinner, the heater is on, in all a pretty good day. Now to cap it off with a little …. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. |