Well I returned to Belize on May the 25^th, with the intent of getting my boat out of Belize before my temporary import permit ran out. To leave the boat in Belize for up to six months I was forced to put up a bond equivalent to the import duties for my boat. If I were to overstay the six months, I would lose my $42,000 bond so I had till June the 7^th, less than 2 weeks to repair Maiatla and get out of the country so the pressure was on.

I returned with my sister Jackie and my 22 year old great nephew, Easton. We had a lot to do to get the boat ready for sea, the first order of business was to fill the drained water tanks, a chore I instructed Easton in performing.

 Next the replacement of the boats exhaust system and engine riser which rotted through and fell off as we attempt her to enter the Placentia lagoon in December. Check previous post for the engine fire and subsequent grounding and final tow into Thunderbird Marina.

Our first challenge was to get reacclimatized to the heat and humidity. Jackie and I had little trouble, but Easton seemed to be suffering greatly from the heat while looking pale and washed out while even vomiting one morning. For most of this voyage he would frequently complain of the heat and how it made him feel sick. Recognizing his difficulties I took it easy on him when it came to working on the boat.

The work progressed over the following 3 days and I was finally ready to attempt to start the engine. With fingers crossed, the engine was fired up and by all accounts was running well. A small victory and a big leap towards in getting underway on time, but our good luck was about to run out.

The first incident occurred when I asked Easton to top up the water tanks which he promptly set about doing.  Jackie and I were sitting in the cockpit discussing departure plans with Easton perched on the combing listening while waiting, for the tanks to take their fill.  Suddenly Easton swore aloud as he leapt from the cockpit to snatch the water-hose from the filling pipe.

When I checked on what was going on I discovered to my horror that he inadvertently poured what I would later determine to be approximately, 75 gallons of water into the diesel tanks and since I had left the crossover open between the fuel tanks to equalize, both 75 gallon fuel tanks were now water contaminated.

My engine hour meter suggested that I had approximately 35 gallons of fuel in each tank which would now have to be pumped out and run through a system called fuel polishing, which would remove the water. But the cost of doing so was not cheap, even if I could get it done at this marina, which I couldn’t, so the fuel would just have to be discarded. At over $4 USD a gallon that would hurt.

Fortunately my friends Chris and Shannon had an electric fuel pump that would be able to suck out all the contaminated fuel. The marina was able to provide drums for my fuel and discard it.

A rather remorseful Easton helped me set up the pump and all went well but to my surprise, we removed 75 gallons of water and perhaps a couple of gallons of dirty diesel. I knew the tanks were full when we departed Panama and with the logged engine hours, half the fuel should remain. I checked for diesel leaks and found none. After careful consideration I came to the conclusion that I had been the victim of a fuel thief. My fuel had been siphoned but when and where?

The boat was laid up and left unattended for 15 months on the island of Rotan in Honduras, then again at Marina Nana Juan on the Rio Dulce for 9 more months, and one final time for almost 6 months in Belize. In any one of these places the fuel pirate could have struck. So aside from losing an afternoon cleaning out the fuel tanks, Easton’s great mistake cost me nothing. In fact it may have been fortuitous as I was planning on leaving Belize with the half tanks I thought I possessed and wait to purchase fuel in Guatemala where the price was cheaper. I was forced to suck it up and buy the high-priced Belize diesel, but only took on half of my compacity.

Despite these initial challenges, I was happy the way things were progressing and we even managed a few nights in town with friends for dinner and Jackie and I would take evening swims in the lagoon mangroves to cool off at night.  A practice Easton declined to participate in as he was leery of lurking crocs and as I joked, amorous manatees.

We were all looking forward to getting off the dock to anchor in the Placencia harbor where it was much cooler as the Caribbean trade wind were a constant. But that would have to wait as one morning we received a panic filled phone call from Chandra, my niece and Jackie’s eldest daughter. Erica, Jackie’s middle daughter, the day before was taken to the hospital with sepsis and was not expected to survive the night. I set about trying to find a flight to get Jackie home as fast as possible but the best my travel agent could do was a flight out the next day. As our day unfolded, Eric quickly deteriorated. I held Jackie as she facetimed Chandra, who was at Erica’s side as she passed as other family members, including Eric’s two preteen children looked on. It was heart-rending to watch.

Three days after Jackie’s departure for home, Easton and I, with a level of despair clouding our minds, cast off to head out to the anchorage. As if we had not suffered enough, the little gremlins skulking below decks made it known that they were not as eager to leave the marina as we were. Not 30 minutes away from the dock the engine began to overheat which I quickly shut down. Fortunately, I resisted the urge to drop the anchor and see to the problem. We had a nice following wind so we quickly unfurled the headsail to sail the 7 miles out of the shallow lagoon much the same way we entered, engineless. But at least this time we did not require a tow.

Once clear of the outer bank were tacked our way upwind to anchor off the town of Placentia as the sun began to set. Now safe I troubled shot the engine to find that the raw water pump pulley had come loose, permitting the belt to slip, greatly reducing the cold water to the engine. It was a easy but not a quick fix as I need to construct a new shaft key for the pulley, which I did by cutting down a Honduran 50 centavos coin. That done we again had a engine. But it would soon become clear that the gremlins were not done with the pump as yet, not by a long shot.