Sailing Bocas

The Spring Fling aboard Mañana began a little earlier than usual this year. We are trying to work a little less each winter (my concession to retirement without actually retiring) so we blew town very quickly after tax season to resume our trip. This spring is turning out to be one of the best trips we have ever had on Mañana, maybe because we haven’t actually gone anywhere. We had planned on a return to San Blas for a few weeks and then a long sail (450 miles) to Isla Providencia (Columbia) and on to Roatan and Guatemala. Early rains kept us in Bocas for an extra week and then our dinghy motor died, so we stayed another 2 weeks while we moved from fixing an 11 year old outboard to treating ourselves to a brand new outboard. As the weeks slipped by we realized that maybe two months exploring the Bocas archipelago was all the sailing we would be doing this spring. Great decision!! We have been moving from one picturesque anchorage to another, exploring reefs and snorkeling, meeting transplanted Americans who live ashore in the Bocas area, treating ourselves to breakfasts and dinners ashore when we are in town, and generally loving the lazy life.

Not that paradise is all, well… paradise. We did find that flying termites had discovered our boat while we were gone. Termites make holes and holes on a boat are “not good”. We were surprised that they would attack a fiberglass boat, but they had evidently found their way into some of the wood core between the fiberglass. Evidence of droppings and some live critters has had us spraying in some very inaccessible places on the boat in an effort to get rid of them quickly. We appear to be termite free at the moment and we have our fingers crossed.

We decided to buy a new dinghy motor rather than continue to repair the old one. We reasoned that Panama was the best place to get a new motor in Central America, and after all, we are leaving Panama soon, right? A call to Panama City found exactly what we wanted and a cheerful, English speaking sales person said he could ship in just two days. Well with credit card processing, actually finding the motor, shipping, etc two days turned into two weeks or “mañana” as they say. When the trucker finally called to say he was leaving Panama City and would be on the morning ferry from Almirante to Bocas (remember, Bocas is on an island) we were ready. We met the ferry in Bocas, looked for our truck, and… nada. Not there. Several phone calls later we learned that the truck had missed the ferry because of a strike on the Pan American highway, but “not to worry”, he was now at the ferry terminal and “mañana”, etc. So bright and early the next morning we again meet the ferry looking for our truck and, again, nada. No sign of him. Of course I have complete faith that our $1700 motor is just around the corner, but Andrea is beginning to get a little skeptical. Then this little Panamanian walks off the ferry, asks for Tom, and quietly explains that “Yes, your motor is on my truck. Yes, my truck is on this ferry, but… I have left my keys in Almirante. I can’t get off the ferry. So we waited while a fast water taxi was dispatched from Almirante to bring the keys. An hour later here comes the truck rolling off the ferry, but, of course, there is one more small problem. The truck is padlocked and the water taxi only brought the ignition keys. The fellow left us for another half-hour while he went in search of bolt cutters to cut the lock on his own truck to deliver our motor just two weeks (not two days) after we ordered it. Ah, Panama! Good new is it works great!

Bocas is boat life. There are no roads except on the island of Colon and water taxis, private pangas, small dinghies, and sailboats not only abound, but they are the only transportation in the area. The local Indians still paddle their canoes everywhere, and the contrast between the motorized community and these tiny log dugouts is striking. We have been guests at a Panamanian birthday party (the party was on an island in a small palapa with 6000 watt speakers playing Spanish rock and rap. The music system had no volume control, only on and off. On, full volume, off, no volume. In case you are wondering “off” was not an option). We toured a cacao farm hidden in the rain forest, we have found poison dart frogs in brilliant red, green and blue colors (we have tried “not” to find the deadly fer-de-lance snakes that roam the same forests), we grounded the boat in just 2 feet of water (then got out and pushed ourselves off the reef), and we have had the opportunity to visit some very remotely located homes of people who have chosen to live in Panama well off the beaten track. There are many, many reefs with good coral, small fish, and turquoise waters to keep us happy afloat. We sail often and we change anchorages almost daily looking for the best beach or the best reef or just the best bar, and occasionally we wander into town for ice cold $1.00 beers at the Riptide or the Pickled Parrot. (We have avoided the blended “boat drinks” at the Parrot because of the many small geckos that crawl over the blenders searching for a way into the juice.)  Our favorite pastime may be just sitting on the bow of the boat with a couple of beers enjoying the breezes and the sunsets and thinking how lucky we really are.

The weather this spring has been great. A little hot by California standards, but since we are just 600 miles from the equator that is to be expected. Steamy days and lots of sunshine are often accompanied by frequent rain showers and cooling breezes in the evening. Occasionally we do get a little more rain or fewer breezes than we want, but you can’t have everything… can you?

Hasta Mañana,

Tom and Andrea

January 2011

We left the San Blas islands on Jan 3, 2011 in big seas (10’ swells) and strong winds (20 - 25 knots). We had expected a little better weather, but I think we jumped the gun by one day and caught the tail end of a weather disturbance. It took us an hour or so to get used to the following seas, but once we got moving it was a surprisingly quick trip to Isla Linton with reefed sails and wind on the beam. We cruised through Isla Grande and into Linton where we found a pleasant spot to anchor just a few hundred yards from the Dutch restaurant on the beach. We spent a very pleasant evening letting someone else cook for a change, and the seafood dinners were outstanding.

The following AM came up sunny, warm, and breezy. On what was certainly the best sailing day of the entire trip we mistakenly opted for a short, late AM sail to Portobello. We should have gone straight to Bocas (24 hours) taking advantage of the conditions, but we were curious to see the changes in Portobello (a new bar called Cap’n Jack’s), and the damage from the recent rain storms (two sunken boats and large landslides). We enjoyed the sail but moved only 20 miles for the day, and later we would regret not having moved on more quickly.

We struck out for Bocas early the next morning with very good winds and sunny skies. We moved along at an incredible pace all afternoon, and we actually talked about when to slow down so we would not arrive in the dark because we were sailing at 8 to 10 knots all day. Oh that we had left one day earlier. At dusk winds shifted to the nose, the current ran foul, and we motor slogged our way through night battling current, wind, rain, and waves. The boat was bouncing and slamming on the waves and on the whole it was one of the darkest, most unpleasant nights aboard. Even when land was sighted the next AM we still had hours of motoring ahead of us because the current was running over 2 knots against us. Poor planning on our part.

Tom’s sister, niece and her husband (Sharon/Anya/Lukas) were waiting in Bocas when we arrived. Sharon is moving to Costa Rica and needed to vacate the country after 90 days as part of her visa so they hopped aboard the bus in San Jose for the all day trip to Bocas via bus, foot (across the border and the rickety foot bridge at Sixaola), taxi, and then water taxi. This was a pleasant visit because we got some shore time visiting restaurants and bars and later they got some sailing and a visit to our Red Frog beach for their 4 day trip. We also visited the most remote restaurant I have seen in some time. Despite the mantra that “location, location, location” is so important to any restaurant the Rana Azul (Blue Frog: named after the tiny poison dart frogs that populate the area) is an Austrian pizza restaurant accessible only by water (nearest road 8 miles through the jungle and a 1 to 3 hour boat ride from Bocas depending on whether you are traveling by water taxi, fast dinghy or sailboat). They are only open Friday and Sunday, and they draw a surprisingly good crowd. Yes, they have stone pizza ovens. Joseph and Maria were cruising when funds ran short and they are rebuilding their cruising kitty with good pizza and great Mojitos in a very strange, very beautiful location.

San Blas Blues

We spent the month of December enjoying the unbelievably picturesque San Blas Islands (called Kuna Yala by the native Kuna Indians) despite the fact that the entire area has been deluged with record rainfall.  In what is normally a very wet country this month has been exceptional. The Panama Canal was closed due to high water levels in Lake Gatun for the first time in history, the only road to Kuna Yala (a four wheel drive route to Carti) was/still is closed, several small boats have been destroyed in the storms, and the small planes that service the Kuna Yala airports have been grounded. Supplies have been extremely scarce because even when the single road is in service most of the goods available in Kuna Yala arrive via small trading boats from Colombia. With the wind and rain we were in a truly isolated part of the world.

We did have days of full and partial  sunshine so we were able to sample the snorkeling, take island walks, swim in aquamarine waters, and we had several days of excellent sailing, but many nights and early mornings we got pounded with rain.  Twice we had to retreat from the outer islands, which are exposed to the high winds and the seas, and find shelter along the coastal mainland. Most of the outer islands consist of long barrier reefs and small sand islands with palm trees.  The reefs break the big waves protecting us from the worst of the seas, but they offer no protection from the wind.

We sheltered in Bahia Nalia for four consecutive days of rain early in the month, and then again a few weeks later for four more days behind the island of Nargana.  Those were grey days indeed with not much to do except read and play cards.  Even visiting other boats was a wet experience, and everyone complained of cabin fever. In Nalia we bought lobsters and fish from the Indians (but we did very little swimming after one of the other boats sighted a large crocodile sharing the anchorage), and we watched as the Kuna came out in little log canoes to fish even in the hardest rains. Their fishing technique was very entertaining.  With two people in a each tiny log boat the bowman literally “throws” a hook and line into the water and then retrieves the line very quickly, hand over hand, to catch the larger fish feeding from below. The second man maneuvers the canoe while also flinging cups of water from the canoe to create a pattern of bait fish jumping where the hook is being thrown. It really works.  We watched fascinated as the native Kuna pulled in several fish using no bait on the hooks.  As each fish is retrieved the bowman, standing precariously in the log canoe, unhooks the fish, flings the hook back into the water, bangs the fish twice on the side of the canoe to stun him, drops the fish in the bottom of the canoe, and then frantically retrieves the hook again.  Fresh fish has been a big part of our diet (along with beer and rum), and I mean really fresh fish.

  

Most of the islands in San Blas are very small and almost entirely uninhabited except for a few small fishing huts.  The islands that are inhabited are very crowded however. Wichibhuala and Nargana were two of the larger islands, and Nargana even had a generator supplying the town with electricity. There is no running water, but TV antennas abound and cell phones are common. The Kuna who live on islands without generators will paddle out to the sailboats and ask to have the cell phones plugged in to recharge them.  We even found internet access at the elementary school in Nargana. Both Wichibhuala and Nargana were crowded with thatch roofed homes that also served as shops to sell various supplies and hard goods imported from Colombia. The two islands seemed to be near the bursting point for population.   Originally the Kuna moved to these islands to avoid disease and other populations on the mainland, but today they are beginning a reverse migration back to the mainland.

The Kuna are very small people (we read that only the pigmys are a smaller in stature) and extremely friendly. They always introduce themselves and ask your name.  The Kuna are a matriarchal society (the women run everything) and the women over 18 wear very colorful native dress (molas, skirts, head bands and beaded leggings), while the men seem perfectly contented with shorts and tank tops.  The molas are intricately sewn cloths that the women hand stitch and sell in the markets throughout Panama. Andrea tries to cheer me up constantly when it’s raining so one day she told me of plans to visit “Bug Island” (sound good?), another day she wanted to snorkel on a reef known for its white tipped sharks (sound safe?), and finally she hit a real highlight with promises that we would soon be meeting one of the islands’ most famous Kuna mola makers… a transvestite named Lisa (sound like fun?). Lisa turned out to be a large and very attractive, uh…  Well, if only the women can make and sell molas then I guess a guy trying to crash the party needs his own schtick .  She/he made nice molas though.        

                                 

We have many new friends afloat and we do beach parties and boat parties regularly.  We had an impromptu concert when four guitars appeared at a birthday gathering.  We celebrated our Christmas Eve anniversary with late night guests aboard Mañana, and Christmas Day was a festive pot luck on a much larger catamaran.  We found a small bar run by a man named “Yogi” that sold $1 beers and $1 wines from a thatch hut on an island beach, and once again the cruisers’ guitars provided the entertainment. We watched the rare full moon eclipse that occurred around 3 AM on a clear mid December night from the trampolines on the bow, and we spent New Year’s Eve with about 30 people on a deserted island in a  beautiful anchorage called the “Swimming Pool”. I will let you imagine how beautiful and peaceful  an anchorage with a name like the “Swimming Pool” can be. We  buy gasoline strained through a T-shirt. We buy vegetables from a small boat that buys vegetables from a big boat, that buys vegetables in Colombia. We buy fish from the natives. Life is good.

 

We did not get to do or see many of the things we had hoped to because of the wind and rains so we think we will return to San Blas/Kuna Yala again next spring.  This was still a good trip despite the rains, and the San Blas Islands are indeed spectacular enough to warrant another visit. Tomorrow we start the return trip to Bocas where we will leave the boat for the winter and head home to CA.  

Tom and Andrea