Horizons
News from the Honduras Bay Islands and North Coast
02 December 2000
By Pierre Renaldo, The Coastwatcher©

I am always fascinated by the spectacle of the sky meeting the sea, especially in the early morning hours when it is daylight, but still before the sun actually comes up out of the Caribbean.

This time of year especially, provides cloud formations out over the water, that do wonderful things to a sunrise. It is never the same, and constantly changing throughout the intensifying progress of the first glimmerings of direct sunlight. Colors, constantly alternating, changing, and the sun silhouettes the clouds that shield its brilliance, reflecting on adjacent formations, giving them characteristics never imagined.

Some wear halos of gold, or brilliant ruby, others gray-blue with pink fringe, silvery linings, like in the song. I invariably think of being at sea in a small sailboat, and living where we do is just like the times I remember sailing towards a new sunrise. I can often see all this and through the far off mist, the mountains of the mainland show their majesty, as if to not be outdone by the sun.

It is a pleasant way to begin the day. Even the stormy overcast days have fascinating beginnings. This being the rainy season, we seem to have alternating, short periods of storm and then several days of clearing weather. I like both, to look at, not the wet part when rain seems to fall all day. We carry sunglasses and umbrellas, prepared for fickle nature.

Somehow, the storm clouds, angry as they may seem, are interesting to watch. We can see the rain showers traveling over the sea, making their way landward, drenching another part of the island before it arrives in our vicinity. Then the cold pelting drops beating a staccato rhythm against our windows.

Sometimes I just want to stay in bed on those mornings, but Felix, my furry companion has other ideas. Whiskers tickling my nose, he finds me no matter how deeply I hide under the covers. He loves that game, and I can never seem to win over such a determined opponent.

Some mornings announce themselves as sounds, with the thunderous crashing waves bursting over the ironshore, where I live. It is always a welcome melody to me. I never tire of the roaring surf, or watching the dance of the geysers along this rugged coastline. Plumes of water explode against the rocky shore, as wave after wave, being redirected by the rocks crash skyward.

All the movements are traveling quickly along the rocky crags, like falling dominos. I does look like a dance; leaping bursts of water and mist, sometimes with small halos-like rainbows. They drift over the shore, everything in their path soaking and shinny.

We sit, silently, absorbing the awesome scene, having so much to look at, all of it happening at once. Sipping my first cup of coffee, two of our feline companions join us. They love to watch the water, in trance-like self hypnosis. Cats are supposed to dislike water, but my fuzzballs are ever curious, and exploratory, venturing to the very edge of the rocks to study the swirling froth, but keeping safe distance.

Buddy, the biggest, is easily coaxed to the very edge on calm days, venturing close enough to wet his feet and whiskers. He tastes the briny liquid, then withdraws, but not very far. He seems tempted to jump, to take the plunge. I nearly convinced him to try one day last summer. He sat on a rock, watching me as I dangled my legs into the sea. He wanted to climb onto my lap but could not quite work up the nerve. He watched my every move as I tried to convince him to join me. He complained, pacing the rocks, anxious to joint the fun. I think he will someday.

I have heard cats are good swimmers. I have only witnessed a swimming cat once, several years ago. We were going to fish the Gulf Stream out of Port Orange, Florida. As we were departing Ponce de Leon Inlet, approaching the sea buoy, I saw a yellow streak cross the deck to the fantail. It was a frightened ginger cat that had somehow found its way on board, and in its terrified state, leapt into the ocean. I saw him surface and swim toward the jetty, a thousand yards to our stern. I could see rapid progress for as long as I could track him. I hope he made it. We were running full ahead when I caught my last glimpse of him, and I never knew for sure.

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We now make our annual mad dash for Christmas. Once Thanksgiving passes, it seems that there is some kind of time warp when times accelerates to the speed of light. There is never enough time for me to plan all the things I want to do "this year." I will have to make a couple of trips to the mainland to stock up on all the goodies I like to have around for the Holidays. The trips are always something to look forward to, but it is nothing like Christmas shopping Stateside.

Christmas if different for the local people. They do not have a tradition of gift giving here. That custom is reserved for the more affluent societies. New Year's Day is the biggie in Central America. It seems more like our Fourth of July with fireworks exploding continuously, day and night. Most of the country is in a state of Fiesta for the last two weeks of the year. All government agencies are closed, and there is nothing happening for sure, except, party, party, party!

I have offered a FREE gift to interested readers this year, as a special Holiday Greeting from me to you. I am offering the Preface and Part I of "How to Avoid the Pitfalls: Building Your Dream Home" and the Forward and Chapter I of : "How To Build Your Dream Home in a Third Word Paradise", free no obligation. Just see the December issue of Roatan Insights for instructions, or just click on the following:

http://www.eroatan.com/cgi-bin/pierre.cgi?excerpt

You can also download Adobe Acrobat Reader, free, if you do not already have it. If you have any problems obtaining your copies, just e-mail me at : elouis@globalnet.hn and I will personally make sure you receive them.

That's it for this week.

Best wishes, Pierre

By Pierre Renaldo, Mountain Coastal S.A,. General Contractors, Construction Management and Construction Consultants.