checking in 3/14/09

So much for a current flow of experience, I try hard to give you accounts with little to no reflections added.
3/14/09 9 am : our first visitors arrive, 5 young men , by boat. One has a uniform, with name tag Padillo, and we assume this is the Comandancia . They take seats, introduce themselves, we all catch little. I remember reading to offer something to drink and pull out several cans of coke, "no frio!" and grin.They grin back and decline, a warm coke is not what they want. A "gift" is more suitable so says Handy Andy and Papo, the guys that will deliver anything to your boat. They ask for a piece of paper and a pen, write the name of the boat down(all with quizzical looks) I am flapping my arms and via charades we get to cuervo or crow. I am relieved. They stare and mention gift again. I panic, how much is enough...and for 5 guys whos capacity is not clear...so they all get 2$ each, seem unoffended and leave. I should have offered a piece of fudge, which my friend sent us off with, to the tune of 10 pounds...so far only some of it has become one with my hips. The rest is in the freezer and will be carefully parcelled out.
Rock and Dave dispatch the Dinghy, our own personal Short Bus...painted bright yellow by Rock, oars and all. Previous to us, it was called Mr. Bill and proved that Boston Whalers don't sink, but thats someone elses tale....They are off to the governmental dock to properly check in.
I am busy getting things in their places, don't dare take the dogs for a walk without clearance, although this is later found to not be necessary. Our new neighbors consist of two sailboats , a quasi Florida trawler (all with liveaboards),and two small power boats on the other side of the dock from us, a ratty trawler at the end of the dock, the Kontiki tied along the dock facing us...a two story rust bucket that looks like its seen its last tours , and a partially submerged boat that several marina boys are pumping away at. There are some sailboats tied on the Kontiki dock against the mangroves that look abandoned. Its not the yacht clubs of the US, but its wonderful to have so few neighbors. The harbor has many more boats than we expected, maybe 50-60. I am anxious to climb the mountain of steps to the yacht club and check it out. The boys return having paid the fees, and had a brief walk around town(high-stepping I am sure) and their first El Presidente beer, those rats! The Agriculture officials are due to drive here, and before long a man and woman arrive, ask for a piece of paper and pen and then want to know if we have international garbage, we must bring it to the government dock to dispose of it. We agree to, but I know I will not be dinghying garbage across the harbor when I see the can at the end of the dock. I am proud that we have only one bag of trash in the stern garbage can. Next is what perishables and dairy we have . I point at whats left in the basket on the counter, afew onions and shallots, two potatoes and a lemon and limes. I show a half gallon of milk and deny the pounds of cheese in the other cooler. The man shrugs. Then out comes a form book with carbon paper and they ask for papers on the dogs. We are all staring at the carbon paper that requires the constant adjustment by both of them. So thats what happened to carbon paper! They spend a great deal of time working with the paperwork. I have copied tons of paperwork (vet records, rabies certificates, rabies titers, vaccine records, a letter from the vet, a USgovernment vet certificate...)and have worried needlessly. Snow them with paperwork, at one point the woman smiles at the rabies form, they confer before she writes the number down and then everything is stamped several times, and they ask for 20$ , get 24 and leave smiling. phew, glad thats over.
Now what about me getting an El Presidente?