Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“I guess your anchor must have dragged; it is quite rocky here according to the chart,” said
Dave, amused.
We were so relieved and quite embarrassed by the incident. But where was the dinghy? As
if reading my mind, Dave suggested we borrow his dinghy in the morning and search in
daylight. We agreed, though I thought that if she was drifting, the dinghy would be carried
out to sea and lost for good. We thanked him sincerely and bid him good night. We were
fortunate that it was a fairly calm night and that Déjà vu had not run aground. We decided
to re-anchor there and then, and I started up the engine. Gavin manned the anchor and we
relocated in deep water. I backed the engine and made sure we had hooked in securely, and
we turned in for the night, a rather sleepless night for me.
In the morning, Dave was good as his word and came roaring over bright and early to
kindly offer us the use of his dinghy for our search. We started off along the coast and
headed out towards the open water. We came across an opening where there was a shallow,
sleepy river mouth strewn with large boulders. There were several buzzards feasting on
something dead, and we rode over to investigate. Most of them flapped off in annoyance,
though a few remained, fiercely guarding their grizzly meal of a dead porpoise.
As we edged around a large boulder, there peeping out at us was the blue nose of my home-
made dinghy. I cried out in delight, “There she is, our little dinghy!” I was so relieved!
Dave was kind enough to even tow us back to Déjà vu,and as we passed his boat, his mis-
tress and brother were smiling with their thumbs up in a success sign. We thanked Dave
again and gave him a bottle of red wine and some money for petrol, which he tried to refuse
but finally accepted. It was obvious that someone had tried to steal the dinghy; the outflow
from the river would not have sucked it in and hidden it around the boulders.
In all the years of cruising, I was most fortunate not to have anything stolen. This was the
second attempt on the dinghy. The first was in St. Maarten when I had to leave the exposed
harbor in a storm. Such was my haste I was unable to haul the dinghy up on deck. She had
filled up with water during the sail, and the rope fitting had ripped out from the bow. After
sending several frantic calls on channel sixteen, I was finally tipped off that a local cargo
boat had been spotted with a blue dinghy on her afterdeck. I had gone around immediately
and identified my dinghy to the scowling, dark captain. He told me he had seen it drifting
around the bay. I paid him twenty dollars for his salvage efforts. I had been let off lightly!
Sophie called us up the next morning on the radio and informed us of the ferry that was
due to leave soon for Panama City. She told me the name of the American couple whom
I would meet and go with as a safety precaution in lawless Panama. Gavin would row me
across and would remain with the boat.
