We glided across the glass-like water of the Rio Dulce in Mother Jones’ dinghy. The only sounds that could be heard was the occasional “putt putt” of the motor, the lone bird that would sing out in the mangroves, and the occasional clank of the empty beer cans on the floor.
“I hope there aren’t any crocodiles.” A devilish smile curled my lips as I stuck my hand in the brackish water.
L flinched a bit. “I hope so too!”
Today we were participating in what D and L loving referred to as “dinghy-splorin’” in which you hop into the inflatable boat, start ‘driving’ and hope for the best as you navigate the narrow waterways and shallow depths.
We had overheard some sailors talking about a lagoon in the area that could be found only by making your way through the maze of mangrove channels. We were determined.
The mangroves were beautiful, rugged, and untouched. I couldn’t help but be creeped out by the decaying houses that found themselves hidden in this near-unnavigable area.
Long vines fell from the trees into the water and spider webs decorated trees with their detailed and delicate designs.
Crab traps lined the docks and shore. As we looked over the side of the boat, hundreds of pinchy-hands were waving at us from the crap traps like a Miss America pageant gone wrong. I licked my lips. “You’re going to taste delicious.”
Submerged tree stumps posed an interesting obstacle. “PULL UP THE MOTOR!” had to be screamed a few times as we playfully meandered through the fallen trees. Motors have been wrecked for less and we weren’t about to let that happen in the middle of our expedition.
We weren’t sure how much further we could make it before it got too dangerous for the boat, the motor, and us (besides the fact that I think I was starting to creep myself out at the thought of crocs in the area). But before we lost hope the mangroves parted and before us opened the hidden, lone lagoon.
Civilization was nowhere to be found and we had it all to ourselves. I can’t even explain how awesome of a feeling that is.
Mr. K (the dog) immediately started whining. He knew what places like this meant. The sun was intense and this sea pig wanted into the water! With a quick shove there was a massive splash and K swam around in a few circles only to immediately want to get back into the boat when none of us joined him.
Can you imagine what it looks like as two people grab onto a 75 pound pitbull by his lifejacket and haul him over the walls of a dinghy? K started floundering about as his solid body was dragged back into the boat, bringing what seemed like half of the lagoon with him.
We did a couple of victory dinghy donuts and slowly made our way back to the sailboat. The boat was full of smiles. There are no mangrove maps. We had managed to find the hidden lagoon that the local sailors had whispered about. It was like we were in on this secret club.
We knew where the secret lair was and the secret was safe with us.