Chapter 6: Humpday

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Chapter Six: Humpday



We sleep in; B⁴ longer than I. The sun is already up when I sneak from beneath the mosquito net and quietly push the ‘on’ button on our coffee maker. The way Casa Brisa is constructed, no ambient light creeps in. Rather than curtains or shades we have solid metal shutters and they keep the light at bay. We have but one regular door at Casa Brisa through which one can exit without unfolding the main shuttered walls which serve as daytime ingress and egress.



Outside, I am greeted with stillness. Today, at least for now, there is no breeze at Brisa. The water is flat; the persistent chop departed. For the first time, I looked beneath the surface of the now undisturbed surface and, could without the distortion caused by waves, see the bottom more clearly. What I believe to be a lone 18-inch long barracuda lurked adjacent to our dock. Later, more barracuda arrive; perhaps to feast upon their neighbors.



A heavy rain shower appears and disappears after lurking only as long as might a burglar who knew he had but a couple of minutes to do his dirty work before escaping uncaptured. The humidity hangs heavy but the temperature is moderate.



Coffee thankfully stronger today than yesterday and Wi-Fi for the New York Times and The Washington Post monopolized my time until my love awoke and joined me. Breakfast on our veranda, like the day before, was delightful and, unlike the day before, hotter. B⁴ opted for the same crepe as yesterday and I switched to a plain waffle. After the initial plate of fruit that is automatically presented at first contact with the staff, more food is, frankly, unnecessarily consumed. Be forewarned.



Likely due to the lack of wind, we note that the flight path of arriving and departing aircraft for the San Pedro Town airport now traffics directly overhead rather than a few hundred yards to the south. Maya seems to cut it a bit more closely than competitor, Tropic Air, does.



We relay our desire to be transported across the water to San Pedro Town for lunch and Carlos says the Cayo Espanto shuttle boat will call for us on our private dock at whatever time we desire. We opt for 12:30. He says they will give us a cell phone to use to summon our return transportation and asks if we would prefer to, once there, walk or have a golf cart at our disposal. Walking sounds best to us even though we are warned that it may be muddy.



If it rains on us during our transit either way the poor decision on the part of Cayo Espanto to not own a boat with the capability of icing curtains to be lower to protect the occupants will be reinforced. If the weather remains sunny, it won’t matter.



The sun, bright today, begins to bake us. We wish the breeze was back.



Random observations about Casa Brisa: a design flaw in the bathroom makes the commode a public spot unless that entire “wing” of the casita is closed off via a single door. If one wishes to linger there, your companion may not access the closet or shower or brush teeth, etc. Both of us prefer absolute commode privacy.



Once the casita walls are opened, the cool of the tile floor is greeted by the humidity laden outside warmer air. Moisture forms instantly on the floor making it quite slippery. The humidity anomaly means the floor is still damp more than two hours later. Be careful if you one day occupy Casa Brisa.



One more thing to watch out for: some of the fasteners on the deck and pier are, as they should be, screws; others as they should not be being nails which have a tendency, over time, to ‘pop.’ That is the case here. A ‘popped’ nail head can deliver a painful slice to an unprotected foot or toe.





We have a couple of neighbors today. Two humans pass on a skidoo; one reptile passes on foot.

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