Mooching beachfront property and helping the locals with fishing

We got pretty lucky near the beach in Guatemala.  While facing the roadside ice cream selection and trying to make up our minds, a Guatemalan lady skipped ahead, quickly decided, paid and got back in her truck.  After we finally made up our minds, we cranked up the rattlevan and heard “hey – did you guys drive that thing from California?!” It was the lady’s husband, a gringo from California.  No more than two minutes into the usual chat about about how it is actually possible to survive Mexico and how much we love Guatemala, he invited us to stay at their place.  After I
reassured Beth that I’m great at recognizing zombies so no worries about the future of our brains, we were following a truck down a dirt road.  The rattlevan rolled into its new temporary home, got a little stuck in some beach sand, and made itself comfortable in one of its best camping spots yet.  A beachfront spot with a large shade structure, outdoor bathrooms and showers, an infinity pool, hammocks, an outdoor kitchen and some great company.  A pretty sweet deal. 

It was truly one of those mi casa es su casa kind of places and we felt it.  Our hosts let us borrow their quad for trips to town, popped us open some beers, and made us feel at home. 
They took us around to the local place where Susy served her once weekly special meal.  We met their friend, another expat who worked local aid there, decided to stay, bought a lot near the beach, and built a home.  We grilled up a huge red snapper that I bought from a guy that came by the house.  I’m not sure about that hammer that Vinnie had there.  He just felt empty-handed and grabbed the first thing that felt right.

They also talked their local friend Agosto, into taking us out in his lancha for a tour of the semi-secret but locally famous lagoon found off in the mangrove swamp.  Known only to the local fisherman and a bunch of birders that travel looking for birds to check off of their lists, it was pretty spectacular.

We left before sunrise and the five of us shoved off in Agosto’s narrow but long wooden boat.    We travelled the main canal away from the village under the power of a small outboard  Then we turned down a small channel through the dense mangrove and Agosto killed the motor and switched to a long pole to navigate us quietly down the narrow channel for 20 minutes before we emerged in a huge lagoon lit by the sunrise. 

The place was filled with birds which I assigned names to and called out confidently.  Beth may have believed a couple of the names because they sounded right.  I used to know a bunch of birds when I canoed in Florida a lot, but now I just know their names which don’t necessarily get matched up with the correct specimen.  I think that’s enough really.  Agosto pointed out some wildlife for us.  One example was a something he called four-eyes, a most creepy fish that scuttles along with his eyes above the surface grossing people out for laughs. I wish I could have gotten a pic of that beauty or of people's faces being grossed out by him. 


That lagoon was truly an amazing place.  You would never know that it was there. We moved through a very dense mangrove trail no more than 2 meters wide at points and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that anyone found it in the first place because the fisherman have probably covered every foot of that place but I was surprised nevertheless.  Agosto told us that there are two more lagoons that are even bigger and more beautiful but they can only be reached in the rainy season.


While we were out there, Agosto asked if we would mind helping him check his nets.  He thought that this would bother us but I knew that it was actually a plus for the tour.  He has several lengths of gill nets stretched across areas of the lagoon that he checks daily.  Normally, one of his sons would help him pilot the boat as they moved down the nets, extracting the catch and straightening the nets.  He needed help to man a paddle and being the only certified expert canoe pilot and paddler in the boat, I enthusiastically volunteered.

I even got to help with the nets.  Agosto let me extract a particularly dead and rotty whitefish that found itself in a neglected portion of the net some time ago.   Beth thought that this was a pretty gross task and I admit that the little bugger did smell pretty bad, but I knew that this was an honor that Agosto wouldn’t trust to just any gringo.  I’m pretty sure that I only won the honor due to my impressive paddling and general fisherman helper skills.  I know this because Agosto said some pretty complimentary things about yours truly while I was helping him.  He also said some things about shrimp and neck ties but I couldn’t figure out how that fit in with all the complimenting.