Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
walking into the cheerful noisy little pub, we recognized the sheepish youth that had come
up to the helm when I blasted a warning on the foghorn. He was with an older couple, his
brother, who as it turned out was the owner of the boat, and his brother's girlfriend. She
was stunning.
We made our way to the bar and ordered a round of beers, taking in the surroundings. The
pub was old and quaint; it looked as though it had recently been painted. It was comfortable
in a heavy sort of way. I knew that if the walls could speak what tales they could tell.
This was obviously the only bar in town and was frequented mainly by local fisher folk and
tourists. They spoke Spanish and, when addressing foreigners such as ourselves, broken
English. They were polite and friendly. We smiled at the crew of the red boat, and the young
lad whispered something to the others.
Presently the older man came over and introduced himself to us, “Hi guys, I believe we
nearly ran you over near the entrance to Panama! Sorry about that, we all fell asleep; we
had had an exhausting few days, hope we didn't scare you!” He smiled indulgently at Gav-
in and I, exuding all his British charm and wit. “I'm Dave. This is Sophie and my brother,
Joe.”
“Hi, I'm Jon, and this is my brother, Gavin.”
“Actually my brother fell asleep on watch too; something made me go out and check on
him,” answered Gavin, smiling gallantly at the pretty woman. She looked very tanned and
gypsy like with dark, flashing eyes that spoke of mischief, fun, and danger. There seemed to
be tension between Joe and his brother's girlfriend. I could see why: Dave's attention was
focused solely on Sophie, and Joe had to take a back seat. This was obvious at a glance. We
talked about the recent crossing and mentioned that we were going to go back to Panama
City to buy more provisions and meat.
“Oh yes, the beef is ridiculously cheap there, but be careful of Panama City. It's bloody
dangerous,” said the Englishman, tipping back his mug of beer.
“I know; we've been warned by a number of people,” I replied.
“There's an American couple that's catching the ferry tomorrow to Panama. They are on
that big white yacht called “Liberty” or something, maybe go along with them,” the girl
suggested.
We were tired and, after one drink, bid them good night and headed back to the dock and
discovered to our shock that our dinghy had disappeared!
“What the fuck? Where is the dinghy?” I yelled out.
