Henrietta II Adventures

THE STORY OF THE HENRIETTAS (note – if you aren’t a family friend, or if you prefer Hemingway-style writing to Melville, you can skip this entry. It only discusses the reasons for the name of the boat, as well as how the voyage came to be a reality. It’s long-winded.) “Why Henrietta?” I was asked this by Miguel, the person in charge of the marina in Nicaragua. In fact, he asked it twice, when we checked in and checked out. Apparently Immigration and Customs had the same question, as he was interpreting for both on both occasions. My dad and I always had an agreement. When he died, he would be reincarnated as a basset hound, and I would find said basset hound and raise it. Yes, you read that correctly. There was one condition on my part though – I wasn’t willing to raise a male basset (they are the most stubborn dogs on earth, not unlike dad, but . . .), so dad would have to be reincarnated as a female basset. Not Hank, Henrietta. But dad didn’t die at the most opportune of

Hola, We arrived in Panama City after a 50 hour passage from Costa Rica. Very hot, windless, flat seas until we reached the rightly named Punta Mala (bad point) to enter the Gulf of Panama. Moderate wind, but sharp, boat stopping, wet chop and strange currents for about 6 hrs. Tiring. Things calmed down at daybreak and in the early afternoon of May 2nd we arrived at Flamingo Marina in Panama City. The last couple of days have been spent waiting for various officials to do their thing and spending the evenings with a friend of Greg's--Rebecca--who is a native Panamanian that speaks excellent English. She gave us a tour of the huge, cosmopolitan downtown and then we had drinks in the old colonial square until late. Last night we had dinner at Rebecca's high-rise apartment with a view of Panama Bay. The pasta de carbon she made was excellent and her brother Eric, and her dog "Paris" we're also great company. Rebecca is beautiful, ambitious, fun