5 
knot current being borne swiftly away from "home” and breakfast. 
Though we spelled one another at the oars, we 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 h or 5 miles above San 
Miguel, Ing. Raul Gonzalez Rivero was building his "Cabana del 
Caribe , " an attractive resort hotel, motel style, with cottages, 
dining hall, bar, swimming pool, and playa. 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 predica- 
ment--helplessness is a better word-~and in less time than it 
takes to tell he had jumped into Gonzalez 1 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 sight. 
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 that very same midday to 
thank the proprietor, and to enjoy dinner at his establishment. 
By so doing we became acquainted with Mrs. Emmett Gowan. Her 
husband, the resort's fishing guide, is an exceptionally well-posted 
man on local conditions, people, and game fishing. As he was 
away that day, we invited the Gowans to have lunch aboard our 
schooner at their early convenience. Two days later, Mrs. Gowan 
