Costa Rica Part 1 – We Thought We Were Leaving

After a very busy lead-up where there were times when it looked like we just weren’t going to make it, all 12 of us, grandma, three daughters, their partners, and five grandkids ages 2-12 years, did manage to get away to Coco, Costa Rica for 8 days of sun and fun between March 31 – April 7, 2025.

We Thought We Were Leaving

This trip was to be so special. With Maegan and her family’s busy hockey schedule, and everyone working full-time at demanding jobs, it was difficult to find a period of one week that we all could get away together. All 12 of us. I decided we would go to Costa Rica and Lara and I planned the trip in the month before our chosen date.

It started out rough. It almost looked like it wasn’t going to happen. Passports were still coming in the last few days before we left for some members of the family. Wolf got very ill and was diagnosed with croup just the week before we left. Then one of his teeth chipped and there was an emergency visit to the dentist. He was informed all was okay because it was a baby tooth, very loose, and was about to fall out. To make it even more exciting, the worst ice storm since 1998 hit Saturday night, two days before we left, leaving the Fearmans cowering in their main bedroom as the world froze and crashed around them. The next morning, their yard and neighbourhood looked like a war zone. Maegan and Andrew’s area in Orillia declared a state of emergency and closed roads and highways. Trees and limbs were down everywhere and there was no hydro for many days. Andrew brewed over the idea of staying home one day to clean up the disaster. Grandma Fearman stepped in and oversaw the care of their home so they could catch the Monday flight.

The roads opened up Sunday night and we all made it to the Delta Inn near Toronto airport as we had an early morning flight Monday morning for a 9:30 a.m. departure.

In the boarding area, we were informed that our flight would be delayed by two hours due to bad weather over Florida. One and a half hours later, we were informed it had cleared and we were allowed to board the plane. With some confusion and manipulation of children and bags, we managed to get seated and buckled in.

The plane taxied into position and stopped. “Here we go!” Wilder exclaimed with anticipation. The engines revved, began their low whine, and built to a powerful roar. The plane began to accelerate down the runway and built to top speed, ready for lift-off, when suddenly BAM! the pilot locked the brakes and held the plane on the ground as we all were thrown forward. He fought to control the plane and keep it level. Quickly, too quickly, it came to a dead stop.

WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

With no explanation, we sat in nervous silence as the plane taxied back to the loading area. It was there, the pilot informed us that there had been a technical problem with one of the sensors, and we were now going to sit, refuel, and wait for engineers to come and do a mechanical check before he was going to consider trying another take-off. He had no idea how long that was going to take. We all sat patiently. Luckily, members of the family had brought food and snacks for eating on the plane as all the airline had for us was pretzels and cookies. They had warned us in the boarding area.

The technicians came, tested the plane at the dock by revving the engines once again to see the engine’s reaction, and gave us the go-ahead. They couldn’t find any problem at all. Once again, we refueled. (Who knew that planes hold a precise amount of fuel for a trip and any extra time apart from a strict flight path, burns precious fuel.) The pilot informed us, once again, that if there was a problem on take-off, we would be turning around, ending the flight, and disembarking.

We all crossed our fingers and held our breath, as the plane repeated its take-off taxi and engine rev, building to top speed once again. Once again, we were racing down the runway. With a noisy woosh, the wheels left the tarmac, the landing gear tucked into the belly of the plane, and we were airborne. The passengers burst into applause!

The rest of the flight was bumpy but uneventful. There was enough turbulence that the flight attendants wouldn’t serve hot drinks and, at times, no snacks or drinks at all, as we all stayed locked into our safety belts.

Five hours later, we arrived at Liberia Airport. Luckily, our shuttle driver was there, and took us to our villa complex after almost an hour’s drive through busy downtown Liberia. It was dark. Sunset happens early, by 6 p.m. in Costa Rica, as it sits so close to the equator. We were five hours late from our regularly scheduled arrival time of 1 p.m.

As our driver pulled up to a large steel gate, topped with barbed wire, we wondered what we were going into. Our host was there to unlock the bolted gate and welcomed us in to the courtyard and front parking area.

WE HAD ARRIVED!

As we stepped off the shuttle van, our mouths dropped open in disbelief. We were in the midst of the Garden of Eden, with palm trees, tropical mango and coconut trees, flowers, and two outdoor pools. The clay-tiled roofs of the quaint villas welcomed us. We had rented two homes in the small complex, one a 10-bed house, and the other a smaller 5-bed house. The families with children took the big house; Brittany, Dave, and I took the smaller house.

The rest of the night, we unpacked, got settled in, found a burger joint for some take-out supper, and enjoyed the pool in the hot, humid climate. The week leading up to our arrival was full of problems and troubling issues, but we were finally in Coco, Costa Rica, and we were ready to enjoy ourselves and each other.

A Canoe Community

The pandemic has changed me and my life. When life was put into lockdown, all of us had fewer choices and changed attitudes. Safety and “what is left for me to do” became my prime concerns. So Harold and I who had started fishing in the first summer of the pandemic, decided to get a canoe the second summer, to enable us to fish on the water rather than solely from shore. Our knowledge of canoes and kayaks was very limited. We entered a whole new world.

What surprised me the most about it was the deep sense of community we found among paddlers and their eagerness to share their knowledge and resources. My friend, Rosslyn Aird, an avid paddler for many years was the first to share her skills. We had a private on-land lesson in types of canoes and kayaks (she must own at least a dozen), paddles, personal flotation devices, safety equipment and, the most important, lifting, portaging, and transporting a canoe. A couple of weeks later, she met us at a local lake and we had a private on-water paddle to get used to boarding, debarking and staying afloat without tipping the boat.

Another friend, Michel Godbout, another avid paddler, was generous in sharing resources to get us started on our journey as the world was still in lockdown and equipment wasn’t readily available for purchase. This involved foam supports and tie-downs. Rosslyn (Lyn) lent us paddles and PFDs so we could start.

Many friends and fellow paddlers gave us advice as to what kind of boat to look for (canoe or kayak), what kind of roof racks were available and what would be our best choice to suit our needs. We decided we needed a good sturdy canoe that could take a bit of a beating without damaging it. It needed to be at least 16 feet long, 3 feet wide, made of a durable material, and it had to be light enough that we could handle it ourselves for transportation.

I put up some pictures on Facebook and sent out a request, “Anyone know of a used canoe for sale?” Friends and family started sending us notices. That first day, friend Leslie Howarth told us her husband just might have a canoe for us that would meet all our needs.

We had a couple of visits to see Jeremy Shute and we made our choice. We had our canoe! Jeremy repaired the caned seats for us and was very helpful with loading the canoe for the first time and answering all our questions. He is also an avid paddler with a big project on the go that he shared with us.

“Speed to Sea” is a personal challenge and project that began back in the summer of 2017. Jeremy, Lesley and friends and family are paddling from Guelph’s Speed River to the Atlantic Ocean. It’s happening in stages. Each year they complete a part of the journey and then pick up where they left off the following year. This summer, on August 12, they will be starting in Cornwall, Ontario and will see how far they get in their two week journey. You can follow their progress on the “Speed to Sea” Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/speedtosea. There is also a YouTube video of their project at https://youtu.be/uONvf_FAEiE.

Thank you Rosslyn Aird, Michel Godbout, Lesley Howarth, Jeremy Shute, and all our friends and family  that have contributed to us becoming members of the paddling community. We love our red “Old Town” canoe, all 16’4” of it!