According to Stivalis's plan, we were to spend a few nights on Tumaco to meet the family, then disappear for a few days on Boca Grande..HA!
We pack our bags & pick our laundry from the Hotel La Red & head over to Aunties house. After waiting for 30 minutes for a cab (never in Cali), we hijack the first car we see with 4 doors. As we pass the military base, I don't stare directly at the base or the soldiers. I'm beginning to think, that they must be on some sort of alert. Every soldier just inside & outside the gate/fence, eyeballs us as we pass by. We go the same route everytime, we get stared at from the locals everytime. Stivalis is getting tired of the looks & of Tumaco.
We get to Auntie's, and of course she has prepared enough food for 10, even though there's only 4 of us in the house. I've had fish for breakfast, lunch & dinner for 3 straight days. Visions of Leno's & Carbon in Cali are flashing in my head. I'd give anything 'bout now for a steak...lol. We eat & jump in a 2 cabs with with about 5 relatives. We pull up to this err...dock where the boat is SUPPOSE to take us to Boca Grande. The err...dock is made of wood pilings & cement. We weren't the only ones there. A few of the local boys ran up to the edge & started to strip to their swimsuits & barefeet. They jumped into the water, playing some sort of chase game. I'm amused until I look over my shoulder & see the garbage in the water. This doesn't deter the boys from frolicking & diving near this mess. Stivalis is really getting pissed. The boat is late, the boys are running wet & screaming. I can tell she wants out of Tumaco. I wait with the family, while she calls the resort to find out about our boat to B.G.
Stivalis returns, pissed, but composed. Seems like the manager FORGOT to send the boat to pick us up. One hour later, this single engine speed boat pulls up to the err...dock. I saying to myself OH HELL NO!!! Not what I expected. Me & Stivalis looked at each other & said. We've come to far to turn back now. This boat is about 20 feet long with one outboard motor. With the boat rocking every which way, we climb aboard. We sit down, and yours truly is looking for life jackets....AIN'T NONE!! By now Stivalis is repeating crossing her heart & say OH MI DIOS!!!! We pull out of port and jet southward. After a minute or two our captain pulls in into another port to get some gas. I thought that was mighty nice of him. Since he had only ONE PADDLE ON THE BOAT! The houses dotting the shoreline resembled those further in. With the exception that these houses were on higher stilts, because they were directly over the water. Once again, BE GRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE! I for one, could not fathom living under these conditions. With a full tank of gas we're off.
My captain is jetting through the marshlands. We were told that the ride would last 40 minutes. The captain said, that was for the "old" boats. We'll be there in 15 minutes. As we approach a bridge with CEMENT PILINGS, I'm hoping he's gonna slow down...NOOOOO, my man picks up speed. Stivalis has her back to the bridge, but she sees concern in my eyes & turns around...OH SHEEET!!!! she screams as we go under the bridge with about a foot or less on each side from the CEMENT PILINGS! It was the first time I EVER HEARD HER CURSE OUT LOUD...ROTFLMAO! Other than our evil Knivel experience, the ride is uneventful through the marshlands. We past fishermen who wave & offer to sell us their catch. I'm seeing houses on places, I couldn't imagine. Captains points out our destination. We pull up to this rickety old port, made of wood that has seen tooooo many days. There were people waiting for this or another boat. We give out greetings...nothing in return. Once again, we run into some "Uglies". Two young females were sitting on the narrow steps we needed to go up. One moved, the other turned her head like we didn't exist. EXCUSA MI, POR FAVOR...nothing. Stivalis gets up top first & shakes her head. I have this heavy suitcase & repeat EXCUSA MI, POR FAVOR....nothing! I'm saying to myself ...Oh, so you wanna play huh? I lift the bag, position my self on the steps and proceed upward.
Oww...oh lo siento. Miss Thing, got a kiss from Mr. Samsonite. Those steps were too old & narrow for her to playing games...TOUGH!!!!
After reaching the top of the steps, I looked back & saw Miss Thing rubbing her leg. Stivalis cries...OH MI DIOS! We're standing on a Boardwalk about 4 feet wide & atleast 400 FEET LONG, made of the same high quality wood as the port. We proceed slowly, listening to the creeking & whinning of the wood below us. Stepping over missing planks & holes in the boardwalk. At the other end of the boardwalk, we see 4 little boys running towards us. Aaahh, the welcoming committee. They offer to carry our bags. No problems fellas, just don't fall into the water with our bags. Boca Grande is very quiet & quite clean compared to tumaco's beach. We're met by the manager who leads us to our cabana. Wooden cabana's, with little gaps for the blood suckers to visit us later. We get to our cabana, it has a padlock on it...hmmm! He removes the lock & pulls the door open. The noise from the door, was something out of a horror movie. The ODOR from the room, was from the same movie. We walk in, & Stivalis starts to cry. The conditions aren't ANYTHING like the travel agent in Cali has described. The beds, were bunks with paper thin mattresses. The place wasn't prepared at all. The toilet didn't work, the run off water from the shower emptied right under the cabana. Stivalis was heart broken. She kept apologising for the conditions. I told her not to worry about it.
She regrouped & we headed to the restaurant area to get something to eat. I saw a group of 8 people leave the beach area and head to a boat. There was only one other couple at the hotel...WOW! Seems like the smart people just make day trips to Boca Grande & return to more comfortable lodgings at nite. I tell Stivalis, we'll just spend one nite & leave. Stivalis flexed...WE ARE NOT SPENDING ONE NITE HERE! The conditions are worse than the FLINTSTONES!!! By now, I'm laughing so hard, tears are coming out of my eyes. When we saw the captain walk across the field, we looked at each other. No words needed to be said. WE WERE GONNA PAY THIS GUY, TO GET US BACK TO TUMACO TODAY...NO DOUBT! We explain to the manager, that what we were told about his place, is totally different, than what the agent told us. We let him know, that it wasn't his fault, but we could handle the conditions. He bragged that his place, was the best on Boca Grande....that is very very scary my friends, very very scary! He was nice enough to arrange for the boat to return us to Tumaco. Stivalis called Auntie to meet us at the err...port. We haul azz back to the cabana to get out bags.
