Off the Coast of Columbia...

From Jared:

We find ourselves more than a hundred miles off the coast of Colombia making our way through doldrums to La Libertad, Ecuador. For sailors, there is the constant adjusting of sail and line to gain that extra 1/2 knot that will get us to port more quickly. Iron wind is a Godsend in times like these but how long will the diesel last at this rate? This is not the steady breeze we knew making our way across the Caribbean. Thankfully, we aren't just sailors. We are fishermen and the fish bite has been on. As a rule on the "Brown-Eyed Girl", we haul in the lines when we have enough fish in the icebox to last our crew for several days. Our lines are out of the water. Yesterday was a banner day for mahi-mahi. We each caught one of these beautiful brightly lit green and yellow pelagics, with the largest being a 23lb., 49" bull (caught by Buck, of course :). It may just be me, but I think mahi-mahi know they are the most beautiful fish in the sea and show their disdain for being annoyed by us ugly humans and our hooks with their tremendous ability to fight. Do any of you have any ideas for recipes for mahi-mahi? We are running out of ideas as we eat it about three times a day.

On the Pacific coast of Panama there is a jewel of a fishing-town town named Esmeralda (aptly named). Though our visit there was brief, we find ourselves talking about it several days after the experience. I have to admit, shortly after arrival and setting the anchor, it concerned me a little when a man in a small panga paddled quickly toward us as we jumped into our dinghy. We must have had a curious look on our faces as the wiry-man jumped into our dinghy, introduced himself as Umberto, and told us to go ashore as he was to be our guide to the town. Umberto held onto a line with one hand as we dragged his little dug-out ashore and pointed to the beach as if we didn't know how to make it the vast, 200 yards. As we beached the dinghy, a dozen children with smiles on their faces came running to us and without us asking, helped us drag the dinghy out of the surf and up onto the beach. Umberto took us to a store to buy some supplies, a "very nice bar" (a.k.a dirty cantina) for a drink, and down to one of the fishing boats to buy a 7 lb grouper that was still thrashing on the bottom of the boat. Live grouper for a dollar a pound. At the store, Tom bought each of the kids that followed us around the town a lollipop. They stood patiently in line in quiet anticipation of the treat to come. I guess kids are kids wherever you may roam. Esmeralda isn't the type of place you are going to see in a Sandal's resort advertisement. It's dirty, it's poor, and you don't drink the water. But the people are real and genuinely friendly and the thought of that very poor, but very happy fishing village lingers on our minds much longer than the experience. As we made our way back to the dinghy with grouper in hand, we bid the kids and Umberto a farewell (after slipping Umberto a whopping 5 dollars for his time, which brought a bigger smile to his face) and headed back to our lady knowing we had just had another experience that only those who venture a little outside the norm have. Little did we know that the fishermen who sold us our grouper had already sold our fearless captain (who had stayed on the boat) two grouper weighing a total of 12 lbs for 8 dollars. As we approached the sailboat, we all broke out in laughter as dad showed his proud purchase and we raised ours. Our fillet knives are getting a good work-out.

So, if you find yourself in Esmeralda, Panama and you need a guide, don't be alarmed if one finds you, hires himself, jumps into your dinghy, and calls himself Umberto.

"Brown-Eyed Girl" out...