We spent our first week here busy busy busy getting together the definitive list of what we lost in the dismasting, a daunting task because we didn’t have the rig to refer to. We finally got that done, ran it past the surveyor who told us to send it out to our preferred vendor for an estimate. We did that, and the surveyor also sent it out to other vendors to be sure ours was in line. That done, our vendor’s estimate was deemed reasonable, and the whole thing was forwarded to the adjuster. This is where we get nervous. This is our very first ever insurance claim except for a car break-in about 20 years ago so we aren’t experienced at all in the process, but we understand they will go line by line and decide exactly what will be covered and by how much. Luckily all of our rigging was brand new and shouldn’t be an issue. Our jib was nearly new. The main wasn’t new but had been recently reconditioned by the original sailmaker. And on it goes. So we wait.
We know from the vendor that we’re probably facing at least three months from the time we order the rig to getting it here in Costa Rica ready for installation. But we can’t order it until the insurance company tells us how much they will pay.
We’re having some low moments these days because we did everything we could to ensure our boat was in perfect condition for crossing the Pacific only to be undone by a brand new fitting that broke, taking everything we’d worked for to the bottom of the ocean.
Meanwhile we’re getting sympathetic emails from all the boats we’d befriended from Panama and the Galapagos, as each one arrives in the Marquesas and learns our fate. We’re so happy for all of them and proud of their accomplishment, and at the same time, sad for us that we couldn’t achieve the same thing. At least not this year.
When we got here to Golfito there were two other sailboats and another part-time liveaboarder. The two sailboats have left, one to the South Pacific and one to Mexico to haul out for the summer. The part-time liveaboarder is gone for a month on business leaving us the only occupied boat in all of Golfito, as far as we can tell. We’re trying to keep busy with minor boat chores and other projects but frankly, we’re bored. We don’t feel comfortable making any travel plans until we hear from the insurance company so we spend our days waiting.
Last Thursday we finally met my cousin Arturo in person. We first met online a few years ago and have been Facebook friends for years, too. He’s been making weekly trips to Golfito for work and took off early to pick us up at the marina and take us to the airfield cantina for lunch and to get acquainted.
Arturo is passionate — for family, for his work, for photography, painting and poetry — and lives every moment to its fullest. We bonded immediately and I feel as if I’ve always known him. I can’t wait to meet the rest of my Costa Rican cousins.
I often wondered, growing up and looking at all my extended family why some of us are cocooners and some are travelers. I think now, having met so many fellow descendants of various ancestors, that the travel bug is part of our Liggett genetic makeup. From as early as I can trace them, the Caribbean Liggetts didn’t seem to stay in one place too long. My father’s family, on the other hand, got off the ship at Penn’s Landing in Philadelphia in 1780, went two blocks west, and pretty much stayed there for 150 years before venturing another 20 miles west to the suburbs. I did not get those genes.
Another Liggett cousin, Douglas from Colorado, whom we met several years ago when he passed through Pittsburgh, is coming to Costa Rica in a few weeks and offered up space in his luggage for anything we need. As any cruiser knows that’s the best gift in the world and Jack and I have been happily ordering small bits and parts that are impossible to find here and sending them to Douglas. Arturo says when Douglas arrives there’ll be a big get together with the whole family and we’re really looking forward to it.