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

Bats, Monkeys and Rain

We celebrated Thanksgiving on the dock at Red Frog with some 40 other cruisers with smoked turkeys and pot luck side dishes.  Only about a third of the cruisers here are Americans, but the several other nationalities had no trouble participating in this distinctly American holiday. On Friday AM we dropped the lines and sailed leisurely towards Crawl Cay for our departure anchorage.  Saturday AM we would get an early start for the 36 hour trip to our next anchorage so we were looking for calm waters and a restful night and the aqua blue waters in the lee of Crawl Cay (9°14.600'N/82°8.400'W) were perfect.

   

Overcast and grey greeted us at dawn, but we were anxious to sail so we ignored the less than perfect conditions and motored out into the sea.  By 10 AM we were being seriously bounced and rolled and looking at black clouds ahead.  Torrential rains hit and made visibility non existent so we decided to head for a charted, sparsely inhabited island for a little respite from the wind waves and water.  Even in the lee Isla Veraguas (9°5.754'N/81°34.446'W) was rolling heavily, and after only a short nap we opted to continue on despite the rain.  We upped anchor at 4 PM and again headed out for the inevitable all night sail.  The following dawn found us approaching Colon, but much of the trip was with the sails down in heavy, rolling seas. We continued on another 40 miles to a calm anchorage at Buenaventura (9°32.021'N/79°40.517'W) arriving some 33 hours after leaving Crawl Cay, and again acknowledged that over night trips are just not our cup of tea. We slept well however in the lee of a massive hillside that blocked all wind and seas.

More rain in the morning, lots more rain, so we scuttled plans to sail the final 50 miles to San Blas in one leg and instead made a late afternoon jump to Isla Linton (9° 36.795'N/79°35.084'W) (about 12 miles) and another familiar anchorage.  Remember we had gotten this far last year before our wire rigging parted and sent us scurrying back to Shelter Bay so we already knew of a couple of safe spots to stop.  Linton was notable this time around for the screaming of the howler monkeys at dusk (sounding very much like the fiercest of dragons in the woods) and for the swarm of bats that attacked the bunch of ripening bananas that we had hung from the solar arch. Starting shortly after dark and continuing until early AM these large bats kept dive bombing the bananas and then swooping through the cockpit.  We could do little but sit and watch since I did not want to spend time untying the bananas and moving them with so many bats around.  I really didn’t want to upset them.

 

Overcast again in the morning so we selected another anchorage to aim for and headed out once more.  We still had wind on the nose, rain squalls, and rolling seas and once more we chose to stop in the early afternoon.  We found a peaceful anchorage inside some reefs in just 6 feet of water at Escribanos (9°33.068'N/79°9.386'W). The particular feature of this anchorage was the remoteness.  We were the only boat in the area, we were tucked into a large mangrove lagoon behind the reefs, and there were absolutely NO LIGHTS visible in any direction. On a moonless night it was as dark as anything I have ever seen.  Even the water under the boat was invisible. Eerie.

Finally, on the 5th day of our two day trip we reached the San Blas and the island of Porvenir (No more Lat/Lons in this blog because Google does not have very good resolution for this area) where we would check in with the local Port Captain and the Kuna Yala comarca.  The native Kuna Indians “own” the islands as an independent comarca (think state) of Panama. Three tribal chiefs control the islands, and it is with their permission that we can anchor here. When we arrived we paid the first chief $24 to be able to anchor near his islands. Porvenir itself has an airstrip with a short (very short) runway built by the Americans in World War II , and there is another small airstrip further east, but the San Blas area has only a single four wheel drive road for land access. The road crosses a river (sans bridge) along the way and it is frequently closed making this a difficult place to reach except by boat. The runway at Porvenir is about twice as wide as my driveway and not nearly as smooth so I can imagine what the road must look like. The rudimentary runway with palm trees on each side coupled with the reefs all around the island make this look like the kind of place John Wayne would have been stationed in the Pacific.  While we were wandering across the runway, casually taking pictures, we were told to look up…  oops! Plane landing, time to move.

 

Our first San Blas anchorage was the Chichime Cays, two small islands set among the reefs which block the ocean swells from the North. The water was a pretty aqua blue even in the overcast afternoon skies, but the eeriest part was sitting in 15 to 20 knot winds with almost no waves because of the reefs.  It was a very secure feeling.  The two small islands are used as seasonal homes (fishing camps) for several Kuna families.  No running water, no electricity, no shelter other than the palm leaves that made up the roofs of the huts.  The Kuna fish in dugout canoes with nets and lines, and we saw at least one canoe with an infant and two pre-teens paddling between the islands. The Kuna are a truly water oriented culture. Several days after we left Chichime we heard that a sailboat had been blown onto the reef here (we have had some hellacious weather in the past week) and had to be abandoned.

We spent 3 days at Chichime walking the islands, snorkeling, and generally watching the rain squalls blow through the area.  Andrea got a chance to buy a “mola” from a Kuna selling (from his canoe) the intricately embroidered cloth that makes up a part of the traditional costume that all of the women wear. Among the Kuna the women run the families, have the largest voice in the community decisions, and still dress in the traditional garb with molas, dresses and fully beaded leggings. The men seem content in T-shirts and shorts which are most appropriate for the single industry here… fishing.

The past week has had but two sunny days and there are some bad weather forecasts for the coming week.  We will move on to other islands and hope that the weather clears soon. Did I mention that rainy season in Panama ends in November?  Hah! The next blog tells all.

Tom and Andrea

Back to Bocas

Another sailing season began for us with a November 3 departure from California. We had left Mañana in Bocas del Toro for the summer while we headed home for golf and farmer’s markets. We flew from San Jose, CA to Panama City, spent the night in town, and then caught a puddle jumper to Bocas. We arrived in to beautiful weather and in the midst of the Independence Day parade (Nov 5) in Bocas (Google Earth 9° 20.259'N,82° 14.434'W)  where, once again, we were struck by the “parade a week” atmosphere of Latin America. Just “one more fiesta” is the motto.

  

After sufficient celebrating we caught the water taxi to Bastimentos Island where we found Mañana floating serenely at the Red Frog marina dock (Google Earth 9° 20.188'N, 82° 10.650'W). Lobo and Erika had opened and aired the boat regularly while we were gone, and one of the ladies from the nearby Indian village had spent a full day removing the evidence of mold, mildew and heavy rains which had turned our decks green during the summer. Despite the rains and wet weather the boat has never looked better.

As with all of our “returns to paradise” we had several projects planned before we could start sailing, and we had lots of new gear in tow. We began by replacing our jib and mainsail with new sails from UK. Beautiful. We also installed new Lexan windows in the cabin and we made a minor adjustment to last year’s motor installation. We still have new wire rigging to hoist up the mast, but (before the water pipe broke) we had happily commented that this is the very best condition this boat has been in “ever”. The water pipe turned out to be minor anyway.

 

We will depart Bocas sometime around Thanksgiving headed for the very picturesque San Blas Islands (Google Earth 9° 32.578'N, 78° 47.718'W) which are about 200 miles to the east. The San Blas is still a remote, undeveloped province of Panama dominated by the autonomous Kuna Yala Indians. The San Blas archipelago is a prime Caribbean sailing destination with a vast system of reefs protecting the anchorages from the rolling seas. Overland access to San Blas is by four-wheel vehicles only, and the majority of visitors arrive by boat. Internet access and even electricity are rare amenities in the San Blas. They sell no liquor (yes, we are taking plenty) and fresh produce is scarce, but this is island sailing at its best. Sometime in January we will reverse course and return to Bocas.

We have filled our days prior to Thanksgiving with books, beaches, and happy hours although we had promised ourselves that we would try the zip line tour, hike the island, and even try the scuba diving. So far none of that. Rain is frequent and bugs are annoying, but that’s paradise everywhere. All plans we make have to take into account “rain delays”, and in fact the weather is the only thing keeping us from heading east sooner. We did find a tiny Thai restaurant tuc ked into the jungleat the top of the island and hiked to lunch with eight friends.

As previously stated… when we arrived in Bocas del Toro it was Independence Day. Panama was celebrating it’s independence from Colombia in 1904. That was the November 5 celebration. Parades, speeches, hot dogs, beer… typical Independence Day and very much like what we saw last year in David (okay, maybe they didn’t have hot dogs). Now we get to November 16 and we have another Independence Day celebrating?… yes! independence from Colombia in 1904. Sound familiar? Well Nov 16 is Bocas Day. It seems that Bocas del Toro celebrates both the actual Independence Day AND the day word of independence reached this outlying province (likely by mule or slow boat). This is very much like Kentucky celebrating July 4^th and also celebrating July 20^th because that’s when Kentucky first heard about July 4^th. Next week is Bastimentos Day which I suspect has to do with a canoe trip across the bay to let Bastimentos know about the same Colombian independence.

 

The celebration was again a day long parade (10 AM to 4 PM) filled with marching bands. There were local bands from the schools plus a fire department band, a police band, and even a Department of Public Works band. Bands also came from other communities and filled the two large ferry boats to the island. All of the bands wore uniforms and while the feature band at the end of the parade had saxophones, clarinets, trumpets, glockenspiels, drums, etc. almost all of the other bands could best be described as “two instrument bands”. The only two instruments were “big drums” and “little drums”. Everybody plays the drums. 50 or 60 band members with nothing but drums. We saw one little guy with a mini size uniform and an oversize hat who was about 3 feet tall banging away on a 2 foot drum with some serious attitude. You would have thought he was a Dave Clark (Ringo Starr?) impersonator.

    

The bands marched many blocks in some intense sun, and most of the pom-pom girls wore full nylons, yet the Americans watching the parade seemed to be the only ones affected by the heat. . The parade route was a little difficult to find at first because the parade crossed through itself at one intersection in town requiring the band from one street or the other to give way. Overall this was exceptionally entertaining.

  

The weather and procrasination have conspiered to keep us in Bocas a little longer than expected, but we have day sailed to try the new sails and we have completely stocked the boat for 6 weeks without stores, and we are ready to sail for San Blas. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you like the blogs) we will be posting nothing to the internet until we return from San Blas in January. Best to all.

  Tom and Andrea

Red Frog

The past two weeks aboard Mañana have been spent cruising the islands of the Bocas del Toro archipelago and enjoying the warm Caribbean spring. We are sailing in one of the prettiest spots we have visited on this trip, and we have had little to do other than relax and enjoy.

Mike and Liz flew in from Boston, and we met them at the small airport in Bocas Town. They arrived without bags having lost the fishing gear on the Boston to Panama leg of the trip and losing the rest of their gear on the Panama to Bocas leg. The Air Panama plane was so small that no carry on bags were allowed so even their backpacks got misrouted. Fortunately we were able to kill some time wandering around Bocas Town until the bags reappeared a few hours later. We then spent our time snorkeling and sailing and putting a serious dent in our beer supplies before the all important rods and lures turned up about two days later.

 

Fishing is not our forte on Mañana, but Mike was anxious to supply dinner so we headed into the ocean for a sailing/fishing trip. Good winds made the sailing fun and Mike managed to catch enough fish (both Cero and Frigate Mackerel) to provide dinner for four. Mike hooked all of the fish, but everyone got a turn at reeling in these “fighting monsters”. My contribution was to sail the boat over the fish and to provide the experience necessary to properly grill very fresh fish. The real bonus was that Mike decided to leave the gear with us until his next visit (rather than lose it on the way home, I suspect) so we should be eating fresh fish regularly. :)

 

We spent a couple of nights at anchor in some very remote spots with only the stars for light. Mucho awesome. One anchorage had a beach with the set for the Survivor show built on the sand and in the shallows. They film Survivor shows here for several countries around the world, and they are all very controversial. It seems there is little regulation of the shows because in Panama “no one owns the beaches”, and the TV producers have built (and abandoned) sets on pristine beaches, turtle breeding grounds and palm lined cays. The Russians even built and abandoned a set in a national park. Survivor is definitely persona non grata in Bocas.

I finally spied my first (and second) lionfish while snorkeling one of the shallow reefs off Isla Bastimento. They are pretty fish, but the lionfish is a non native predator that has been moving steadily across the Caribbean and has now reached Panama. There is a local organization called “I Spear Lionfish” that is encouraging divers to help eradicate this problem and even runs Lionfish tournaments. I may have to by a spear gun for our next trip.

We wanted to get some beach time so we put into a small marina about five miles from Bocas Town called Red Frog. Red Frog is on Isla Bastimento and has a hostel, a 20 slip marina (new), and a spectacular sand beach. At the moment only the hostel and the marina office have been completed so it is a very quiet place, but there are plans (controversial) for an entire resort on this island. The marina is on the leeward side of the island and is well protected from the Caribbean winds, while the beach is on the windward side, only a short walk across the island. There is a palapa bar in the shade, turquoise water, white sand and a few tourists from the hostel. The local Indian kids make some money catching the bright red frogs (small, about 2”, and very bright red) that inhabit the island and offering to pose for pictures with the frogs for $1. We fell in love with this beach and the marina location, and have decided to leave the boat here when we head home for the summer.

 

 

No trip is perfect (as you can probably tell from some of our previous blogs), and this almost idyllic vacation was no exception. We returned to Bocas Town to get Liz and Mike back to the airport for an early morning flight. While we were out sampling bars and restaurants for their last night aboard… we got robbed. Burgled is the correct term (since we were ashore when it happened), but it was a crime nonetheless. Someone came aboard while we were anchored out, cut the lock on the companionway, and found our cash stash. Admittedly we had gotten a little lazy about hiding the cash, but in three years we had had no trouble of any kind so we were very surprised to find we had been robbed while we enjoyed $1 beers ashore. Most expensive beers of the trip as it turned out. As an aside… when we made out the police report the next day (a very long process) we were required to provide both my father’s and mother’s full names as well as details of the crime. Maybe they are suspects!

With no guests and nothing but time on our hands we have been… doing nothing. We visit the beach daily, practice our Spanish, clean the boat, meet new people, and just enjoy ourselves. Erika and Lobo occupy the boat next to us and they are sail makers so we have been thinking about new sails for the boat when we return next fall. We have been taking measurements and talking prices (the sail will actually get made in Houston), but I did have second thoughts about doing business with a guy named “Lobo” on a dock in Panama.

 

We will be home soon. Once again the heat and humidity are becoming noticeably higher as summer approaches, and the rains are a little heavier and more frequent. Besides… no one can be on vacation all the time… can they?

Mañana.

Tom and Andrea

West to Bocas

In case you were awaiting the results of the May 16 census… there are 3.18 million people living in Panama. There are also a lot of tourists and foreigners scattered about the country so it may seem a little more crowded than that, but that is the official count. Despite the crowds it is still a beautiful place to be.

We have spent the past several days congratulating ourselves for getting our engines installed and working. They are not perfect, and it took us a lot longer than we planned, but we are moving, sailing, visiting new places, and generally enjoying Panama again (which we certainly were not doing last week). While we were on the hard we also applied new bottom paint to Mañana, and shortly after we launched the boat (note picture of yard hands working heavy machinery in flip flops) we hauled Andrea to the top of the mast to install our new rigging and to fix our wind vane. The boat looks great.

There are worse places than Shelter Bay to be stuck working. We had a small hotel with a large swimming pool that made the heat more bearable. We had a rental car that gave us access to Colon, and we found the town to be a little less dangerous that we had been led to believe. Almost daily we would cross the small drawbridge at the Gatun Locks heading into Colon to find parts and hardware for each project. We are experts at crossing the small drawbridge beneath the Gatun Locks. We are, however, very glad to be leaving the Canal Zone and heading for more tropical locales.

We are now in Bocas del Toro (9° 20.538'N/ 82° 14.154). We made an early AM departure from Shelter Bay in Colon, and sailed the Caribbean coast of Panama due west to Bocas. We picked a bright sunny day to start out and we got a great breeze. The trip was about 150 miles and took almost 35 hours. We had a beautiful sail for most of the trip, and we got to dodge rain squalls for the rest of the time. Because it is hot and humid here the rain is not an unwelcome occurrence, and the big downpours have not yet started.

Bocas del Toro is an archipelago of islands in western Panama. (Panama is shaped like an elongated “S” lying in its side with the Canal in the center.) In the Bocas archipelago there are three large bays with many low sand cays (islands) that have grown up behind shallow reefs as well as hundreds of mangrove islands. The off shore reefs absorb the ocean’s swells, and the waves then drop the sand that they have been carrying across the seas. Sooner or later some vegetation starts to grow on these sand bars and the next thing you know… voila!, a tropical island has been created. Our first stop in the Bocas area was Zapatillo Cays which look exactly as you might picture a Caribbean cay. Sand beaches set in turquoise water, palm trees covering most of the island, and shallow reefs protecting the ocean sides from the rolling swells. The living coral reefs protect the smaller fish so Zapatillo is a prime snorkeling spot in this area. The cay we anchored off was deserted, there were no other boats around, and we had the place to ourselves. A leatherback turtle and a LARGE barracuda were our only visitors.

Bocas Town itself is a popular Caribbean tourist area with a lively waterfront filled with bars, restaurants, dive shops, and small tour boats promoting snorkeling trips and trips to remote beaches. Many of the buildings are built on piers hanging over the water to catch the breezes, and all of the bars and restaurants are very much open air, driftwood construction. Because there is almost no tidal range here the floors of these buildings are less than 2 feet off the water. There are many hostels in town for the budget minded, and we read about the new resort villages cropping up on the islands and on the hillsides for the wealthier tourists. We are only 30 miles from the Costa Rican border here, and visitors can reach the area from both Panama and Costa Rica. While we thoroughly enjoy the solitude of anchoring by ourselves we confess that the occasional dose of nightlife does appeal to us also. Of course nightlife at our age ends around 9 PM, but in the afternoon and early evening we have managed to sample Rip Tide, Lilly’s, Pirato, The Reef, Aqua Lounge, Hundido’s, Barracuda… So many bars, so little time.

 

The town is actually fairly large, and everyone we’ve talked to seems very happy to live here. English is much more prevalent here than elsewhere in Panama, and the culture is more Caribbean and less Spanish. We have been at anchor near town for the past 3 days taking the dinghy ashore in the AM to explore, and coming back for happy hour each evening. Lively music sounds across the water until the wee hours each night. We are meeting other boats from all over the world, talking about places to go and things to see. We have tried some of the nearby snorkeling (lots of fish and some of the best coral we have seen), and tomorrow we expect guests from Cape Cod so we will be looking at several other snorkel sites as well as trying our luck at fishing. You may recall that we nearly starved last year when we decided to rely on the sea to provide all of our meals.

Yes, life is good.