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course we're spoiled. Gone are the days when nothing reigned supreme, here to San Blas, and a can of corn or beans were the best vegetables that could be hoped. Now, pretty much once a week, a motorboat full of leaves from each bendidìo Narganà and goes around the anchors of the boats to supply fruit, vegetables and other basic needs and even the second. I mean, if you want you can also buy the dish soap, or Coke. Oh well, though I did not need to be in the middle of nowhere of San Blas for the proof that Coke reach everywhere, knows no limits and boundaries, so do not grow on trees or even on the palms but I am sure that sooner or later this will happen again . As I was saying is
came the launch of fruits and vegetables, and we all happy we did our weekly shopping, then we left everything on deck waiting to be washed and examined.
Yeah, because after that in 2006 the first transatlantic crossing, like a Noah's ark story boarded a couple of cockroaches hidden in fruit and vegetables, with the consequences you can imagine, we have become paranoid to the edge of the scrupulous As regards the washing and examination of each vegetable on board.
So, with all beautifully displayed on the deck we went downstairs to have breakfast, over which I gave to Clare all the skins to be thrown into the sea, which she loves.
However, each parent knows that a child is a child too quiet harmless only if she's asleep, architect or otherwise is doing some damage, usually irreversible. I should know, because I have my girls, in order, flooded the house, sofas and frescoed walls and peeled in one stroke all the plants of basil, mint and sage. But they did it very quietly!
Ergo, after a few seconds of silence suspicion of Clare, I looked out the cockpit just in time to see my daughter, who threw overboard, with clockwork regularity and elegant movement of the forearm, whole fruits and vegetables just bought one at a time.
A row of colorful vegetables floating wound from our stern out to sea, like a long colorful ribbon.
"Nooooooo!" I roar, without finding other words that better articulate the notion that I wanted to convey.
After that, an external and impartial observer could see the difference in cold blood in both masculine and feminine genders on board have shown in this matter.
An adult woman jumping, shouting "Ale tuffatituffatituffatituffati prendileprendileprendileprendile," another female smaller jumping, shouting "Dad float! Prendileprendileprendile", and another female even smaller jumping, shouting "Oh oh, I made a mistake Oh oh!" .
The only man on board, far from the dive, unhurriedly slid the boat, he waited he saw Gigi and arrived at the scene to help, and together they went slowly to recover the fruits and vegetables, which had pushed the current era.
Yes, the dinghy. Who would have ever thought you would like to make more sense as clothes and dive without fins, swimming frantically, raking in swimming all fruits and vegetables and then come back against the trend, pushing everything in some way?! It was an impulse far more sensible, no?

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in Cocoa West





Nothing, we are moving from here. The fact is who arrived and Inma Roberto, and along with Gigi and Charlie are a company so nice that none of us wants to travel, who to look for gas, water to make those who rebuild for the galley. The three "boys" went fishing together, a few days ago, and returned at dusk, so loads of fish and looked so guilty that we women have not even found the strength to seriously angry. Carlotta has symbolically confiscated the gun to Gigi, Inma, who is Basque, but he told Robert that it would submit the fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next five days. I did not have much to add, if not already acknowledged that there were three other children with rifle and pack, in addition to my daughters 2 and 3 years. The consequence of all this is that the next day was set up a barbecue on the beach and we had a nice holiday, and then in fact we ate fish morning and evening for 3 days, but cooked in so many styles and versions, one more the other exquisite, from the tartare marinated, grilled by the sevice, fish baked in a pan with the olives and capers, which in the end we forgave the men and guns were release from seizure.
For the rest, there is not much new to report. For the chapter "disgrace", reported pain that yesterday morning, following a guilty my carelessness, I accidentally deleted all the photos from the camera last month. Not all all, but a great heritage of beautiful snapshots have been lost forever. I had not yet been transferred to the hard disk.
I cried like a calf.
The girls rushed to console, to clarify the matter was simple, for she must surely be a physical illness and therefore had an infallible remedy "Mother where does it hurt? You do a pool and would pass away," Anna instead has done well to explain the reason for so much sorrow, and then I said "Mama do not cry, you'll see that we do with a new bunch."
I smiled through her tears for this release is as wise.
Among the lost photographs, there are also those of peaches, but Alex told me not to worry, he will sacrifice himself and go fishing to take other Pescioni, so I can redo the pictures back. What
generous man, eh!

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the gas barrel



Do not worry, we are not running out, is our own reserves of gas for cooking is over, so soon we will have to leave the beautiful anchorage of Coco West, where we are now stop for a week, and to proceed to Narganà to fill the now empty bottle.
We do not have any desire, the girls have now taken possession of the territory, and to our satisfaction (can you say that Alex had planned from the beginning) have gradually abandoned and forgotten all their bulky and noisy plastic beach toys, and play with whatever they find: shells, sticks, palm leaves, pieces of coral, anything goes. The only disadvantage is that you then pretend to take on board all their treasures, and since there is a limit to the amount of conchigliame variety that can be crammed into the boat, sometimes they are pain when it's time to reassemble the boat. Chiara actually is generally not very loyal to his property, and most of the time at sea cheerfully agrees to throw his things, and if it happens also that of Anna, and then ensure that the shooting tragedy: Anna remembers Carthusian of his possessions and is capable despair for a piece of shell treacherously thrown overboard by the sister and lost forever.
Yesterday Alex and I have dared to assemble on the beach for the first time this year, hammocks, and was a successful experiment. Lying in the hammock, rocked me gently with his foot, and watched my children run back and forth, playing together, seek, find, build in total autonomy and industry that last year would have been science fiction, and seeing them free and happy made me feel at peace with myself and the world.
By noon the girls gave unequivocal signs of hunger and fatigue, and began to throw sand in each other eyes, to go and fight the same white shells, surrounded by dozens of shells exactly like that, and then Alex and I looked at, and without a word we have folded our hammocks. Time out
finished, the game begins again.
E 'was short but it was nice, and who has satisfied!

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Fish, fish, fish



I state that I do not recommend reading this post for vegetarians.
Men, you know, usually like sports. Not that this physical activity in general is lacking, but still sports that he himself is another matter. Specifically, the San Blas, the sport here is to go fishing with a gun in apnea, ostensibly to feed his wife, daughters and other hungry mouths, but we all know that women here are other reasons and have to do with the primal instincts that are very far.
addition to the mysterious (to me) pleasure boat bobbing up on the reef, then stay for hours to soak before a hole where he fled a fish, waiting to see who first gets tired of waiting for the other soft the position, Alexis is also a day of fishing a few hours of pure escapism, in total freedom, his wife and two illegitimate fruit of his loins, which are abandoned to their fate in the boat with the sailor's promise on time: "I come back soon. "
A little 'how to go to be partying with friends at the bar at the bottom.
I push for responsible fishing, or fishing is just what you eat (and eat all you fishing), also because our fridge is not working well and is not able to hold the fish, which then be cleaned and cooked the same day they are caught, even if a ton of fish.
I say now, I like the small fish. They can flake, gut and fillet a boat without a slaughterhouse, and appropriately private head and tail are in the oven or pan on the barbecue or by boat, as well as in our fridge.
the avoidance of doubt, here the concept of "small" is not the same as we in the Mediterranean. Choosing
as a measure of my Chiaretta 85 cm, or Anna, who is pretty much a meter high, we say that a fish is a small, clearly, a big fish is a clear, a huge fish and Anna is a scary beast is a clear and a half.
However, even during the worst days I have never succumbed to the temptation to put my daughters in the oven, so I can not say with certainty, however, at a guess a half clear in my oven is barely there.
I have now made this postulate: the size of fish caught is directly proportional to the smile of the fisherman. So as I see from afar the glitter of the teeth of the children, returning from their bar, the more my heart is almost overwhelmed by the fate that awaits me.
smile sighted at 50 meters equals one hour minimum of butchery.
Smorfia clenched teeth, a nice dinner tonight in pasta with tomato sauce: his wife consoles including the fisherman disappointed for a day and breathing a sigh of relief!

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Today I saw ...



Today I saw a caiucco with three children, the oar of this canoe carved from a single trunk of a giant tree, there was a child Kuna who must have been 6 or 7 years, rowed with great skill and this led surgically caiucco ten times bigger than him. A little farther on, another girl sat composed a couple of years younger, and there was also a third child who has had two years to exaggerate. The two year old child was sleeping with no care in the world, including the one conducted by the caiucco brother could topple him and finish nowhere. Well, actually none of the others seemed worried, nor should obviously be their parents, on the ground somewhere to gather coconuts, or sewing molas, or maybe fish, or sleep in the hammock. The
caiucco has approached, I have sports and child, all contrite, I brought a small bag made of palm leaves, hand woven, exquisitely made, which contained a mobile phone. I explained that I could take the little bag, and by chance I could recharge my cell phone?
Yeah, Kuna huts with no electricity.
I held the little bag is a wonderful object. I put the phone in office, I gave them a candy (already discarded for fear that throwing the map into the sea) and I watched them paddling away.
Nobody ate the candy, held tight in his hand without even giving a lick.
Later, down on the island, we went to the hut Kuna. It 'made of branches, palm leaves and bamboo, the floor is dirt, there is nothing inside except a few suspended hammock and a fireplace on the ground, on which the fish smoked slowly over coals for coconut be then be stored in a basket. There is no other, the Kuna do not have anything. We approached, big smiles of children, the grandmother, in a corner, dressed and dressed up with local custom, a gold ring on the nose, a long black mark traditional hairline to the tip of the long nose, spoke .
talking on the phone.
I'm not sure what moral to draw from this story, I really do not even know if there is a moral, each draws its, me, I know, I have to mull over a bit more '

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Che tempo che fa! Copyright by Claudio



rains, government thief. Yes, yes, I know, could always snowing, such as in Italy in a day March, the Cow Moka, on the books of Anna, is the month of spring and instead tell me I just do not talk about it.
And oh well, everything here already seen and already told you, when it rains, the mood on board is grayish, even the girls fight for their imaginary games ("Chiara pretend that this is a chocolate ice cream and this is mine and Strawberry is your "" No I Annina voio the chocolate "" No, yours is the strawberry, this is mine "" Nooooooo I piaceeeeeeee "- and down blind barrel with one hand, that freedom, because ' other hand is busy keeping the cone does not exist), I bark orders left and right, all starting with "NOT" Alessio discomfort at seeing the sorry state in facing the boat, including dirty laundry thrown randomly here and there, crumpled sheets, farm animals and crayons everywhere, crumbs under the table and remains different.
And outside, it rains.
And I would like a newspaper, a cappuccino, fresh linen washing machine, put the dirty pots of fish in the dishwasher and operate simply by pressing "intensive washing, like an ice cream (the real one) in the freezer, go to the movies, I would leave the girls to my mom and go out to dinner with Alex, go to the library, the hairdresser cut my hair, watching the windows streaked with rain and I want to want to be in the Caribbean boat, which always shines sun and not get bored!

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With the permission of the legitimate authority, or the legendary Claudio Boat Virginia, his public this memorable piece, which comments on the lives of our parents on board. Ale and I laughed a lot, also because it's all true, it's true, and as always the reality in the end any more than fiction, even literary!

"Dear Federica, so that your stories are giving a whip to all the bloody scenes of high tension thriller steeped in the most ruthless and the sacred fire of the throat, reducing them to junk useless and tasteless.
Here finally it comes to poop, the real and not pretend that the coated film where even the shit smells.
Here you can smell the revolting ill-digested pap of coconut that has not yet been attacked by enzymes from childhood, the fish that once transformed into a monster germ, the real shit, that which fills with its warm fragrance each where in a boat and persists for a long time.
We talk about ecological disaster of immense proportions, where exotic plants are swallowed up by diapers that are attached to the green leaves and replacing them with driving out even the most leathery smell citras.
struggles with smoky fires where two parents must be able to perform in fighting to cremate more non-flammable substances that chemistry has ever produced, in turn providing wounds and injuries to say the least dramatic.
And what about the two beasts that still long before sunrise are already lurking in their bunks, ready with their complaints and steal the last sleep of the poor mother and father. He is embracing
she rubs on you and that's the word feared and hated, but at the same time longed for and dreamed of before it was uttered for the first time.
A word that moves you and makes you rejoice once, the first, then for the rest of life becomes the alarm about something that you do not know if it is unpleasant or not.
MAMMA !!!!!
He began all-out campaign, in the kitchen, bathroom, on the boat, the bridge, the enemy in this war is to be saved, cared for, respected, educated, basically loved more than ourselves.
A strange war where a mother and father are always losing.
The battles take place every day and at sunset the enemy, tired of winning, are reported to the couches and kissed her tenderly, with the hope that the next day to be in good shape to start to break with the laying intensity, because if you do not then they are ill, and mother and father fall into depression.
The scene ends with each other licking their wounds, before two lobsters and a glass of wine lie while the stars smile from thinking that if humans had not been invented the smile would never have appeared in the universe. "

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can not live on air alone




Or maybe, instead, we live on air alone, because the period of absolute lack of appetite for girls. As for Anna, is not new, but I'm not used with Chiara and I still can not do with a reason.
My culinary skills, you know, are very modest, not least given the limitations of our galley, but there must be something primordial nell'irritazione I try to see each meal systematically bounced to the sender after a few forks or kennel.
I try to process the reasons for the failure of this specific parental care to touch me in this way so overbearing, and rationally conclude that my anxiety is unfounded, I look at girls who grow up healthy and happy with two macaroni-head (number!) and a couple of bottles of milk and repress the strong temptation to throw in the sea furious and reckless act with all their dinner refused (to eat voraciously Alessio, if nothing else). We're here to
Tiadup, Cayo Hollandes, zero desire to surf, excellent mood on board, the girls play together a lot and leave us some window for us all, Alex uses it to put a hand to long rista repair the boat, I concede even, at times, the luxury of being bored to death, although it is not the spleen, which so often struck me last year, boredom but a more discreet and somewhat more creative. For us citizens, the art of doing nothing is a very difficult thing to learn, you practice, so I do a lot of practice but not the kind of exercise, so when I find myself unexpectedly an hour or two even when I have nothing to do, I am seized by a nagging sense of guilt that choked mercilessly.
Gigi and Charlie have finally arrived, we already anticipate Alessio endless afternoons fishing underwater behind huge behemoths that later they will also be gutted alas, scaling, fillet and cooked, I secretly fear the change of the tried and tested 1:1 ratio (2 adults / 2 girls) in the very worst an adult (me) with two children for a substantial part of the day. On the other hand are on the way of the epic tycoon fish, cooked in all shapes and sauces imaginable, and we'll get the urge once and for all, since so far, and navigation between various faults, fish on our table it is spent very little.
We hope that girls will appreciate, as Clare, yesterday when I said exasperated, "Clare I warn you, if you do not eat anything your dinner you go to bed!" I enthusiastically replied "yes mom I'm going to bed, I'm tired."
was seven in the evening!
Chess'ha ago by pe 'NOT magnet!

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No, not the rudder! The mysterious rash




I'm back here after a few days of absence, I can not find the time to write a diary every day, but the rest is better this way, this blog is becoming a bore, not girls in part we talk of nothing but the time and broken pieces of this boat! About
broken (precisely as it turned!), Yesterday, during the docking maneuver in Cayo Hollandes, we felt a vibration on the steering wheel left, and to date has not yet been drawn up a diagnosis.
Something in the mechanism of the rudder seems to have broken, or distorted, or gone out of position, or salcielocosa, the fact is now, the list of failures, it also adds the helm. What the helm, with his friend autopilot (now become ex-auto-pilot), is a pair scopone against the fridge not cooling and bilge pump that pump. Vinca
the best, so we are all essential systems and it seems a very busy construction season for this girl float.
Oh well, pass the medical report: Clare also has before a course of antibiotics against his impetigo, improved dramatically after the application of antibiotic cream, but spread over the surface of the body too much for me to limit myself to give you local therapy alone. And so, both my daughters have made a course of antibiotics to the head, a level playing field is safe, shame that Anna makes the scenes every time that Clare has to take the syrup because it would take a spoon too, so you invent lots of imaginary diseases, rashes and itching of non-existent hoping to at least lick the spoon. In my day, and indeed those of Pinocchio, the medicine was bitter, but today they know of candy or orange and the girls adore the time of medicine, who knows if that will weigh in global social change taking place!
All right, however, life on board is quiet and serene, the children behave very well and we are wanderers, never like this year we moved from an anchor navigating to another like tarantolati, this is also possible because the girls are good and obedient while surfing through and allow me to alternate Alessio at the helm as needed, which last year was no question but that the other part was not necessary precisely because we were equipped with the automatic pilot, that this year we have not. I have already said that the autopilot is broken, eh?!
Nah, still talking of the broken pieces of the boat, but enough to shave that beard boredom boredom, for now my time is up, but in the coming days I will talk about poop, poop, more specifically, child, that this is so an interesting topic!