The Resort Sitter

So you want to know about Panamá. It was an interesting journey worthy of a few separate posts. But first you have to endure this story… Last summer Pablo and I traveled to Central America. We explored parts of Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, Honduras and El Salvador. We’d really hoped to make it to Panamá, but it would have made for an extremely long drive home. We’ve had Panamá on the brain since we didn’t get there last year.

Backing up further, after I lost Jim I took creative writing classes. I’d discovered that the only creativity I managed during his ordeal was writing. One online writing assignment was to make a list of ten things I would like to do with my life if there were no obstacles, a soul searching assignment. On that list of impossible things I considered quitting my job, selling my house, moving to a foreign country, and, get this, becoming a RESORT SITTER. As I worked with these ideas, I came to believe they were possibilities.

For my adventurous wanderlust the most interesting tropical resorts and lodges are owned and operated by individuaIs. After years of work in the vacation industry, I know that owners can never get away from their paradise businesses once the doors are opened. Although these places often have a self-managing staff, the customers feel more secure if there is an English speaking person around. I’ve managed small resorts and dive operations in remote areas, and felt that with the help of the internet maybe I could make my idea happen. It seemed somewhat obscure, I admit, but it was something that I was uniquely qualified to do….temporarily manage small resorts so that owners could take an elusive getaway.

I found this Eco Tropical Resort Website and corresponded with the owner. With my ad she opened the classified section of her website. The same day Lise posted my ad I received an email from an eco-lodge in the mountains of Bali. Linda and Norm own a three bungalow resort on Mt. Batukaru. They ‘d not been away from Indonesia for over five years and wanted to spend Christmas with family in New Zealand. Linda said she couldn’t pay me a wage, but she would offer me food and lodging for nearly a month before their trip if I oversaw things in her absence.


I couldn’t have asked for a better place to reenter the universe. With the help of my friend Jude, who donated air miles to my cause, I made it to Bali for my first two month resort sitting job. As usual, I didn't properly plan financially for the return to Kona. But I flew off to Bali in my typical no looking back, forge ahead style.


Linda, the owner/manager, and I hit it off great and spent hours chatting. She took me down to the beach and showed me where to shop, and up country into Ubud town to introduce me around. By the time the family left for vacation, I knew Bali pretty well. I felt like I could entertain the guests as well as be informative. And I really I enjoyed the guests. It was a magical place and only magical people find their way there.


I lived and wrote in this bungalow for a month....shear heaven.

The pathway to the lodge from the road is a beautiful though long walk through cocoa and coffee trees, beautiful flowers, a vanilla patch, and interesting birds and reptiles.

This is a shot of the Balinese style table in the main community building. Sometimes we played a game there, or we ate there on pillows crosslegged. Mini-Meow (or Meowie, not sure) poses for a tranquil photo.

Katja and Reto, from Switzerland, were guests I still keep in touch with. We had some excellent dinners, hilarious conversations, and fantastic bug and flower photo sessions.


Ok, maybe I returned to Kona flat broke, sick with a flu I picked up in the Seoul airport or after a week of partying a little in Kuta Beach like an idiot….ya gotta do what ya gotta do sometimes. But for me it was a success. I realized my dream. And that made me think I could realize the rest of them. I found a job, my friend Lynne came from Alaska to stay with me as well as help with expenses, and then I dreamt one night about returning to Mexico.

At a Balinese funeral I couldn't help but share some betel nut with the adorable woman below. Every time she saw me after this occasion, she shared some of her "chew" with me. It was not the tastiest of South Pacific treats, but definitely one of the more unique flavors.

My Pet Iguana and the Pitaya

Just kidding! This is NOT my pet iguana. This one was handed to me when I entered the reptile exhibition at the Bali Bird and Reptile Park in Indonesia. I wasn't expecting it as I crossed through the portal, but I was open to the experience. I like to talk to animals, and I enjoyed the feel of the leathery skin. He was a very mellow iguana.

There were lots of iguanas at the Bali Bird & Reptile Park.

This is actually my "pet" iguana. This guy lives on the other side of the wall, but he enjoys sunning on top of it. I talk to him when I am in the pool, and he turns his third eye toward me and makes gestures, but I don't know what he is saying. He is difficult to photograph, although little by little he is allowing me to get closer.

The cactus you see is pitaya. In Hawaii it is called dragon fruit. The plant is growing on the other side of the wall but the fruit is spilling into my yard. Whether I get to enjoy the fruit or the iguana gets them first remains to be seen.

This is the blooming pitaya flower the NIGHT AFTER it bloomed. I missed it. I found out from my knowledgeable morning swimmers that the flower only blooms for one night. The fruit will follow. I haven't tasted the pitaya yet.

I am watching this little bud and hope to capture the flower in full bloom.


Below is a fruit stand on the road between Mérida and Celestún with typical Yucatecan fruit, mamey and pitaya.

Chasing The Dragon (Be An Informed Traveler)

In July 2004 Jim and I sailed into an Indonesian Underwater National Park on our friend’s 40 ft. trimaran, specifically the islands of Komodo and Rinca (below). We had been becalmed at sea for three days (above) and decided to give up on winning the sail race from Darwin, Australia to Bali. It was more of a regatta, meaning flexible rules, so we decided the boat with the biggest engine would win. That would not be us, as trimaran owners rarely have more than a small outboard motor. We decided to walk on some land instead.



No sooner did we find and secure our boat to a mooring when Larry, the owner, tossed the dinghy overboard and away we went toward shore. He was eager and excited to see komodo dragons. Where else but on Komodo Island? It is one of the only places these ancient creatures live in the wild.

When I travel, I research the places I am going so I can be a reasonably smart traveler, and not a stupid tourist. Starting out with the disadvantage of being American, I try even harder to not appear self-serving, egotistical, demanding, and ignorant of my surroundings. Unfortunately Americans have this reputation worldwide.

On this trip we were visiting Sydney and Darwin, Australia, and Bali, Indonesia. Therefore I specifically brought travel guides and information on these three destinations.

My books only mentioned the komodo dragons found at the Bali Bird and Reptile Park. I was clueless when we landed on a remote island. I had not seen the National Geographic Specials, nor read Entertainment news (where Sharon Stone’s husband was bitten by one in the LA Zoo), nothing. Although I was hesitant to go running up the mountain seeking them out, I was also interested and blindly game to see them.

We landed the dinghy and walked around a beach. We saw faint animal tracks in the sand, but indistinct and not recent. There were no people or boats in sight.

“Maybe they’re up on the mountainside. Let’s climb up this dried river bed,” Larry said while charging uphill like a madman in his flip flops and short shorts, never looking back. Where the river was blocked with giant boulders and downed trees, he headed into the dry jungle in swift giant strides.

“Jim, will you wait for me?” I asked. “I don’t know why Larry is zooming up that hill like a dragon in heat but I think he’s crazy. He alone is making such a ruckus that if there were any komodos around he’d have already scared them away. I think we should go back down to the dinghy and head over to that other beach. There aren’t any signs of life at all here,” I insisted.

“I think you’re right. Why don’t you wait for me here? I’ll try to chase Larry down and tell him the plan. If he wants to climb to the top alone, well, good on him!” Jim responded.

Larry was agreeable to the alternate plan. On the way to the tree lined beach, he said “I think you guys are right. If I were a self-respecting komodo dragon I’d pick the longer beach with the shade trees.”

We beached the dinghy and started walking in the sand. Soon we spotted komodo tracks; two distinct sets of them, in fact. Giant lizard prints coming from one direction, the others from the opposite direction. Where their tracks met there were also deer hoof impressions in the sand. From there the footprints could be followed to the back of the forest. We stopped in our tracks. They were here, and they were hunting. In a few minutes we heard strange and haunting screeches from deep inside the trees. You’ll have to use your imagination on what exactly happened back there, but it didn’t sound pleasant.

We kept on walking. It was a fantastic beach and we got caught up in that – it’s not often you see red coral or nautilus shells washed ashore.

“Hey Jim, look at this!” I yelled. There two huge holes dug into the sand. They were big enough to bury two caskets. “Do you think these are their nests?”

We gave each other one of those looks…the simultaneous flash of eye and brain contact when suddenly we realized how insane we were. Trying to track down komodo dragons? WTF?

Larry was an impatient sort, and he was disappointed, so he’d already lost interest in the hunt. He was ready to head back to the boat. Only after we’d finished our crazy excursion did he break out some books he had onboard of OTHER Indonesian islands, such as Komodo and Rinca.

I learned about the size of these prehistoric monsters. They can be from 6-9 feet long. They can run 15 miles per hour and also swim. With one flick of their tail they can flatten you. Then with one flick of their forked tongue they can inflict a bacteria into you that causes sepsis, and they start eating you alive as you slowly die of their injected toxins.

The moral of the story is because of half-assed travel research we endangered our lives running around chasing aggressive and toxic creatures we didn’t know enough about. This behavior calls to my attention that the majority of tourists do not travel wisely.

My opinion is that to travel in today’s world you owe it to yourself, your travel companions, and especially to the people who live in your vacation or adventure destination to learn some information about where you are headed….before you get there.

People see TV ads or travel brochures and get a wild hair to seek out new places. It is imperative to read up on what there is to discover, enjoy, and avoid. Strange places and people have different customs, languages, currencies, food, acceptable dress and behavior. It is important that we know about these things and give due respect to the people and their environment when we are outside our own comfort zones.