|Rooster at the Beach|
What a day! Hot, but with good breeze. Then, with so many interesting invitations to attend.
Mariel and Doug used to live in Morehead City , NC. Now living in their 32 feet long catamaran. Mariel has an amazing sewing shop and sews canvas for boats, exercise machines covers and any project that will contribute to her economy. She also plays the ukulele, my new instrument. That morning they passed by Salty Shores to invite us to visit them in their store. "Do you see the dock sticking out the mangroves? Where the boat with red bimini is tied up?". They said." Como on over to visit." We spent two hours talking about sewing and music.
|Music every Friday at Dinghy Dock|
At noon, we met Mike at public dock. The idea of our host, who's done a great job showing us the island, was to walk to the airport and wait for a bus under the shade of a tree. The walk was great, we enjoyed the construction work on the houses. After about five minutes of arriving, we hailed a cab and for three dollars took us to Flamenco beach. At the entrance there were many kiosks selling food. We were hungry and chose the food stand that smelled better. We ordered chicken kebabs, rice with red beans, tri-fongo (a ball of green and ripe plantains, yucca, marinated with crushed garlic and onion). It took a while for the food to come out, but it was so worth to wait.
|Old war tank on the beach|
Playa Flamenco is a gem for Puerto Ricans. Also it was Saturday. Many young people and families arrive in the ferry to camp for weekends. Along the beach, behind the sea grapes trees, we could see the tents. In the camp are open showers, restrooms and drinkable water tanks. The beach was crowded, and the only trash on the sand was an old war tank decorated with graffiti, which is now an icon on the map. Behind the showers there is a fence, along the same there are several signs of danger, " unexploded bombs ".
|Conga players on Saturday night at the Dinghy Dock|
At eight, we went to "Dinghy Dock Restaurant", where every Saturday meet four percussionists playing conga. The best Caribbean Bushwacker in hand and all night to dance ahead. Doug asked me: "do you know who that man is?", Pointing to older percussionist of the group, "that is Meñengue, the Grandmaster Meñengue ". Ignorance is so bad! I thought, but it's never too late to learn. In the first break Jorge came to talk to us, one of the guys playing the conga drums, whom we met on his art shop, and he said: "I was in Cuba last year, how do you call that Alley, where they gather to playdrums? I went with some friends on a sailboat. Then we traveled around the island with the band Los Irakeres. People are poor, but they are very loving and hospitable guys. You have something that we do not have here: "Identity". Then he dismissed, for he had to go back to his conga. I stayed there, thinking.
|Local architecture, villa for rent La Loma|
|Local cafe, small place, but very good food|
|Tarpons waiting for the people at the restaurant to feed them|
|Dinghy Dock Restaurant's seared tuna with a wasabi sauce and seaweed salad, rice and beans|
At 6:00 am, we pulled the anchor up. The sun had not yet risen, but it was clear enough for me to see Rossamee anchored ahead, while I was driving Salty Shores of the port. "The trip back is not going to be as good." I recalled the words of the captain four days before, when we entered Culebrita. The bow was pointing east, the waves and the wind began to arise with the progress of the sun on the horizon. But in my mind I was just repeating the same word to the rhythm of the conga: "Identity" .