5 
were drifting north more rapidly than we were making headway toward 
shore. Already we had visions of missing the north end of Cozumel, 
and of a future of some uncertainty. Some 4 or 5 miles above San 
Miguel, Ing. Raul Gonzalez Rivero was building his "Cabanas del 
Caribe," an attractive resort hotel, motel style, with cottages, dining 
hall, bar, swimming pool, and playa, Santa Pilar Beach . The sun was 
well up by this time and the resort ’ s boatman was at work on shore. 
Quite providentially he looked out to sea and noted our predicament, 
helplessness is a better word, and in lees time than it takes to 
tell he had Jumped into Gonzalez’ runabout and before long was tossing 
us a towline. It was well toward 9 o’clock before we got "home" again. 
The "affair" could have turned out less happily had the young man in 
question been less observant, or less keen of Eight. 
To better express our appreciation of the rescue, we not only 
filled up the runabout's gas tanks, and rewarded her ’’captain, ’* but 
we Journeyed up to the Cabanas this very same midday to thank the 
proprietor, and to enjoy dinner at hie establishment. By so doing we 
i 
became acquainted with Mrs. Emmett Gowan. Her husband , the resort's 
fishing guide, is an exceptionally we 11 -posted man on local conditions, 
people , and game fishing. As he was away this day, we invited the Gowans 
to have lunch aboard our schooner at their early convenience. Two days 
later, Mrs. Gowan being unable to come, Emmett brought along a good 
friend, Tory Halik, free-lance photographer, who roams the world around 
for "Life." Long will be remembered the day, April 4, i 960 , that they 
came aboard for lunch. 
