"THANKS, BUT WE NEED the strength of 10 ... no ... 20 men!" Deciphering my clunky Spanish, the elderly Kuna Yala Indian smiled sweetly, nodded, and paddled off in his dugout canoe.
The scene was rather comical. Moments earlier, this thoughtful man had been standing in knee deep water beside our 12-ton saiboat Andante, prodding her obstinate hull with a thin walking stick. It was a charitable effort, but you see, we were stuck in the sand. His stick, cajoling our boat, was like attempting to move a boulder with a toothpick.
The motor had been purring sweetly for about two minutes as we began our exit out of the bay, when it quit. Just seconds later, powerless, the 42-foot sloop drifted onto a sandbar, grabbed ground, and with a thud we were stuck.
