Killer Tomatoes

With temperatures nearing the unbearable range we decided to cap off our springtime sailing adventure with a bus trip to inland Guatemala. Mountains, lakes, cool evenings...  they all sounded great compared to the heat and humidity of the Rio Dulce river. We started the trip with a long, air conditioned bus ride to Guatemala City arriving late in the evening. As I have noted Guatemala appears to be a little more dangerous than some of the other countries we have visited on this trip.  An embassy travel advisory noted that Guatemala has one of the highest violent crime rates in Latin America and that “rule of law is lacking”. Nowhere in the country is night time travel advised and if you should arrive at a bus station after dark make sure the cab you get is radio dispatched and in good condition, don’t hail cabs, and avoid the numerous red buses that transit the city and are referred to as “Killer Tomatoes” (probably for the quantities of exhaust they emit as much as any other dangers). Andrea told me all of this shortly after I had hailed a parked cab that we then had to push down the street to jump start.  But our hotel was clean and modern and, excepting the two guards with shotguns stationed at the door it might have been anywhere in the U.S.

The following morning we took the opportunity to walk cautiously around Guatemala City (at least the small area of the city near the clean, modern hotels) before we made our second travel faux-pas.  We decided to take the “chicken bus” for the three hour trip from Guatemala City to the market town of Chichicastanengo where Andrea was eager to see the largest vendor’s market in all of Latin America. We have ridden the chicken buses in several countries usually with good results and interesting stories, but this bus trip was an adventure to itself. We were packed in three to a seat on both sides of the ancient, colorful school bus. In the aisle riders sat on paint buckets, and then they loaded the standees. There must have been 100 people on the small bus at one time. Baggage went on top of the bus, and whenever anyone boarded along the way the bus assistant would grab their packs, climb to the top of the bus and then (because the bus never actually stopped moving) re-enter the bus via a window. Our driver was absolutely crazy.  He never slowed down, passing everyone on the highway in ditches, on curves, in stalled traffic, even causing two oncoming vehicles to dive off the road to avoid the head on collision. We decided that Curvas Peligrosas did not actually mean Dangerous Curves but could more literally be translated as this is a good time to pass while everyone else is using their brakes. We had visions of a newspaper headline “American tourists among dead in chicken bus tragedy”. So what was the faux pas you ask? Another part of the embassy advisory said, and I quote, “Avoid low-priced intra- and inter-city public buses (recycled U.S. school buses). They are often attacked by armed robbers and are poorly maintained and dangerously driven.” You don’t say.



Chichicastanengo was worth the trip however.  The town is the center of commerce for the very heavily Mayan population in this rural area. Everywhere women in the traditional, colorful Mayan outfits offered goods for sale. Many of them carried their embroidered cloth, blouses, scarves, and other hand made items on the top of their heads. The biggest market is on Sundays and on Saturday night we watched as they set up market stalls in all of the streets surrounding the central church. Small  holes are permanently set in the cobblestone streets to hold the wooden supports for the tarps and roofs that will provide protection from both sun and rain, and small men and boys carried huge loads of goods and produce into the streets on their backs. A torrential downpour that cascaded water onto the table of our restaurant that evening delayed the setup only briefly. Sunday morning the town was bursting at the seams with crowds of buyers and sellers. Everything you would need for daily living seemed available. There were food vendors, farm produce, livestock, meats, pots, lots of hand made textiles and art work and, of course, a great amount of mass produced goods like T-shirts, bags and backpacks, shoes, clothing, etc.  Wall to wall people, wall to wall booths, wall to wall bargains, however we have no pictures of this colorful market because SOMEONE forgot to recharge the camera batteries.

The Catholic church in Chichi is located in the center of all of the activity on Sunday mornings.  It seems that the Mayans and the Pope have reached an understanding regarding their religions, and the Catholic church in Guatemala incorporates many Mayan beliefs and traditions. We saw large quantities of flowers and incense being burned on the steps of the church as offerings, a distinctly non-Catholic tradition.  This compromise arose when the Spanish priests arrived to teach the Mayans their new religion.  Unfortunately the Mayans could not speak Spanish and the priests could not speak Mayan so neither really understood what the other believed and a compromise of “you do your thing, I’ll do mine” was reached.  But the church did provide the basis for one very distinct cultural icon, the Mayan tradition of colorful weaving. The church was the source of a very strict dress code under which the inhabitants of any given village were required to weave and wear a style of clothing unique to that village. Mayans still wear clothing particular to their village, but few visitors to Guatemala realize that the bright, distinctly ethnic clothing one sees everywhere evolved out of an edict from a most non-Mayan source: the Roman Catholic Church. After an interesting conversation with two young Mayan women we found we were able to identify the colors particular to the nearby town of San Antonio La Lago. We got smiles all around when later we would meet someone from San Antonio and correctly identify their village.

After Chichicastengo we took a van (no more chicken buses for us) to Panajachel on Lake Atitlan for our final 3 days in Guatemala before heading home. Panajachel is a lakeside tourist town (although not many American tourists apparently) that provides access via boat to several other Mayan villages on the lake. We took advantage of our stay here to visit several villages, walk the cobbled streets, shop, and generally relax.
We noted that much of the population of Guatemala and many of the workers seem to be a very young. We took a canoe trip where we were guided by a thirteen year old boy and we had a long conversation with a very mature thirteen year old Mayan woman selling goods in San Juan La Lago. We met another thirteen year old accompanied by her five year old brother selling in Panajachel. It seems that this is the appropriate age in Guatemala to begin contributing to the support of your family, and there are children working everywhere.

Our springtime trip for 2012 ended with one more night in Guatemala City and a memorably romantic dinner. The restaurant (Kacao) served Guatemalan traditional dishes and was housed in a beautiful palapa constructed in the middle of the city. Kacao had been recommended to us while we were still in the Rio and it was a great recommendation. Costumed waiters, delicious food and a beautiful setting combined to make this one of the best dining experiences we had ever had in any country.  

Our two month trip covered over 1200 miles of sailing, and we were in and out of four different countries (Panama, Colombia, Honduras and Guatemala). We got to figure out our expenses in four different currencies (dollars, pesos, lempira and quetzales), and we saw so many different places and lifestyles. We love it. It is sometimes difficult to leave friends and family for such an extended period of time, we sometimes worry about our safety, we’re sometimes confused trying to cope with day to day happenings in a foreign language, and sometimes we even get on each others nerves in our small floating home, but the adventures, beaches, bars, boats, islands, jungles, people and leisurely pace make it all worthwhile (at least for a little while).  With that said we are definitely looking forward to CA for the summer.

Tom and Andrea

Against the Wind

The decision was made to run for the Rio about two weeks earlier than planned. We do not have an SSB radio for weather reports so we are dependent on other boats to get us the latest information. Best guess was that a short weather window would allow us to reach the Rio Dulce River before some very strong winds settled into the area for a long stretch. Bad weather for us is not rain, but wind. Wind on the nose is not good even in sunny, blue skies, and when our buddies on Silver Sea and Salida said “go” that was good enough for us. The Rio, or rather 26 miles up the Rio, will be the boat’s summer home for the 2012 hurricane season. We left Roatan, Honduras at 8 AM for a 24 hour trip to Livingston in Guatemala. The trip was marred by the aforementioned winds that came up early the following morning PLUS the fact that Salida was struck by lightning just two miles ahead of us on the crossing. Minor electrical damage and some frayed nerves was all that was reported, but it gave us pause for thought.

Livingston is the port of entry on the Carribbean coast of Guatemala and after a quick check-in in a driving rain storm we motored into the river. The lower river winds through steep canyons with thick jungles on each side. This canyon was the scene of numerous Tarzan movies and it is a truly awesome sight. Texan Bay was our first stop in the river allowing us to anchor just before dark. Because the crossing to Livingston was a little rougher than expected we spent several days relaxing here before motoring on. Again our buddy boat Salida had all of the excitement. On our second night in Texan Bay they were boarded by two young men with evil intent. Fortunately these “pirates” fled as soon as they were confronted. Salida put out a call to us since we were anchored only a few hundred feet away, but the intruders were gone before we could respond. Guatemala has a bad history for crime and violence, and this may be the first place on our entire trip where we have felt a little uncomfortable. We will not be anchoring on our own in this river.

The town of Fronteras aka Rio Dulce proved to have at least one danger on a par with the pirates. This one road town lies at the foot of the lone bridge that crosses this extensive river system. I can’t call it a one cow town however because the road is a shipping lane for dozens of cow transport trucks each day that move bovines from field to field and field to slaughter. The real danger in Fronteras is the cows! Packed tightly on the trucks, one facing left the next facing right, with tails against the rail side boards on both sides, the cows regularly “shoot the shit”. The street is a walking disaster. The danger here is being too close to the passing cow trucks when the shit hits the fan… so to speak. I’d rather the pirates. 

The river is thick with small marinas for the cruising boats, attractive vacation homes and motor yacht for the wealthier Guatemalans, and waterfront restaurants for all. River life is a stark contrast between the small canoes that fish the river daily and the expensive boats that we call home. You can see women washing clothes on a rock in the river just around the corner from your favorite tiki bar. A remarkable contrast.

We moved the boat into Mario’s Marina on June 1 and spent the next several days enjoying happy hours, good food and a cool pool ashore while we cleaned and repaired Mañana after a long sail. We have found waterfalls for swimming and smaller rivers to explore by dinghy and always another cold beer to help us pass the time. Mario’s provides an armed guard on the dock all night long. Paradise?

Unfortunately the weather is extremely uncomfortable right now with temperatures in the 90s and a heat index of over 110 each day so the pool is a godsend, but it will take a change of venue to really cool things off. Our next adventure will be a week long road trip into the Guatemalan interior before we head home.

Honduras, Hurray!!!

The last stop in Colombia was the tiny island of Providencia, a short 60 miles north of San Andres.  This island was first settled by the Pilgrims and until very recently was still called Providence Island. For those of you familiar with Rhode Island I will note that the ancient fort defending the harbor was named Fort Warwick. The pilgrims were followed by the British, Spanish, pirates, and finally the coconut growers so the culture here is “diverse”.  The islanders have put considerable effort into creating a clean, eco-friendly environment (including bio-degradable bags in many stores) and there is a good deal of local public art decorating the streets, parks, and bus stops. We spent evenings at the Bamboo Seafood and days walking the single road on the island. In a feat of sheer stupidity we managed to walk the entire length of the road (about 12 miles) around the island in the midday sun (only mad dogs and Englishmen… ). Were it not for the frequent beer stops we might have perished on this far off island.  These are the true dangers of sailing… walking.





Honduras beckoned, and we set sail for the Honduran Bay Islands of Vivarillos, Guanaja and Roatan.  The route took us northwest around top of Nicaragua and then west along the coast of Honduras running about 40 miles off shore. This leg of the trip was some of the best sailing we have ever had.  We managed to sail for 34 hours of the 36 hour trip to Vivarillos resorting to the motor only in the last two hours as we tried to reach our destination before dark. Part of the trip was a full spinnaker run that lasted for over 6 hours. We got another 24 hour down wind sail to Guanaja and a shorter 8 hour down wind sail to Roatan. For once we were going in exactly the right direction and we couldn’t have been happier. To top it off we experienced one of the most awesome sunset/moonrise evenings I have ever seen. We were headed due west as a spectacular red globe sun set in the water ahead of us.  As we glanced aft we then saw an equally huge yellow moon just lifting from the water.  The two perfect balls of light rested on their respective horizons at precisely the same moment. The sight was so impressive, and it seems so futile to try to describe it adequately. I have never seen anything like it. Calm, colorful, “fishless” seas and good winds are what I will remember of this part of the trip. (Note the term “fishless”:  I may have set a futility record of some kind by dragging a rubber fish for almost 900 miles and catching “nada”.  We buy all of the fish we eat.) 

Vivarillos is an uninhabited island with a long reef providing protection for anchoring. Just another white sand beach with turquoise water. Ho-hum. The only sign of life were the stacks of lobster pots hidden in the palms.  Lobster is out of season in the Caribbean right now and the fishermen store their traps here until they return in July. Deserted. From Vivarillos we sailed on to Guanaja where we would check in to Honduras. Guanaja is a pretty large island surrounded on all sides by ocean reefs. There are about 8,000 residents on the island and they almost all live on one small Cay that is the main town of Bonacca.  The whole island is only about 12 miles long and is is dotted with small, struggling-to-survive resorts that occupy the bays on the island as well as the small cays that dot the reefs. Supplies come from the mainland so availability and prices are very reasonable. This island is a beautiful destination resort, but no airstrip or ferry service comes here so you need to make private arrangements through the resorts to come by boat. That does keep the crowds down. The resorts are very quiet right now, but they are very beautiful places. The “season” is January to April.



We anchored in a beautiful bay called El Bight on a Sunday afternoon and found a German palapa bar ashore that provided much information about the area. The following morning we headed to Bonacca to check in. Friendly people everywhere. The town has no vehicles (no streets either) and everyone walks the narrow lanes between buildings. The economy is afloat. Fishing is the primary business with many large shrimp boats moored across the bay that provide most of the employment. Tourism seems to be the only other industry, but with the lack of ferry service this consists of cruisers stopping in and the resort visitors taking a day ashore. Immigration and the port captain were easy stops and we sampled the local boleados for breakfast (thick tortillas with beans and cheese) before returning to the boat. Much later that night we found that El Bight had been misspelled. Apparently El Bite would have been much more appropriate.  Although we were anchored several hundred feet off shore and the winds were strong and gusting all night we woke the next day with MANY mosquito bites. No wonder the resorts struggle. We abandoned El Bite that day and spent the next few nights anchored behind the reefs and far from shore.



Roatan was next. French Cay, West End, some of the best diving and snorkeling in the world. Our buddy boat needed to keep moving since Dana wanted to reach the Rio Dulce River by late May for her trip home. We are leaving her in Roatan and will be joining other friends who left Bocas earlier in the winter for the next month of our trip. Winds are beginning to pipe up in this portion of the Caribbean and all of the boats have a weather eye cast for signs of an early hurricane season.  Our last night in Guanaja was constant 25 - 30 knot winds and the sail to Roatan, while downwind, was made in 20 knots. Mañana has sailed flawlessly the entire trip and we feel safe and comfortable. Our only malfunction this entire trip was some bad gas from Bocas that fouled our fuel filters. We had gotten lazy about filtering all of our gas before putting it into the tanks and since I had just changed the fuel filters in late January when we put the boat away I had seen no need to get new spare filters just yet.  The result is that on one of those “great sails” we spent several hours hand pumping and filtering all of the gas in our tanks. 

Roatan is still another island ringed by ocean reefs (albeit a much larger island). This is the premier dive center of the Caribbean with hundreds of dive spots and many, many businesses catering to the dive market. We found an anchorage in French Harbor Cay just inside the reefs and we are sitting pleasantly afloat enjoying the warm, sunny days.  The winds are strong here, but the reef buffers the seas very nicely.  Ashore we found a very modern super market (much appreciated) as well as a friendly cruisers’ marina offering regular happy hours, pot luck suppers and an opportunity to connect with other boats who have anchored in the area. Since the winds have kicked up so much we rented a car visit the famed West End which is a little more exposed to the weather.  West End is a seemingly  endless beach lined with dive shops and restaurants and bars. We also found time to visit the local iguana farm where large iguanas roamed freely.  In the wild they are a bit skittish (remember iguana tastes like chicken) but at the farm we could even pet the cute little creatures.



When we return to the Caribbean next year Roatan will be our primary destination, but for now the quick visit will have to do. Everyone is worried that the bad weather will close out the opportunity to run for the river and its good protection so we anxiously read weather reports on the internet each morning while we debate the accuracy of each prediction. We are cautious enough to realize that our very small boat is better avoiding rough seas so an early visit to the river is probably in our future. Next time you hear from us we expect to be “up the river” so to speak. The Rio Dulce River in Guatemala.

Tom and Andrea

Albuquerque and San Andres

It was a perfect day in Bocas (clear, sunshine, vivid colors on the water and on the hills) for our departure to the Colombian islands of Albuquerque Cays and Isla San Andres. We are buddy boating with another Catamaran (Vida Libre) and their crew of three.  We met Dana who owns Vida Libre in Puerto Vallarta some years back and her crew will be Sam (Australian) and Kalia (Panamanian) who were just married last month and are on their first sailing trip. The two boats motored out of the Bocas anchorage on a Thursday afternoon for the first leg of our trip to Guatemala. We expected to reach Albuquerque in about 40 hours, rest for a day or two, and then sail a leisurely day sail to San Andres. The first night had us sailing to windward, and it was  bumpy and rolling, but the following day the seas calmed and we sailed along comfortably. Albuquerque Cays turned out to be a gem (a decidedly turquoise gem). We arrived in the AM and worked our way through the reefs and coral heads to a beautiful anchorage near the northern most of the two small cays. We are in Colombia.




The southern island has only a few fishing shacks ashore, but the small northern island (about the size of the backyard where I grew up) is occupied by a Colombian Navy unit. Eight very young sailors and a commandant who must have been almost 25 years old are defending this island from God knows what. They are rotated out every 30 days, and there are actually several sand bagged, machine gun bunkers from which they maintained that they could repel any invaders. I think they are worried that if the island is left unoccupied that it will fall into the hands of the Nicaraguans (the island is much closer to Nicaragua than to Colombia), but only a few fishermen and about 20 sailboats manage to arrive here each year. The uniform of the day for the marines was black tees, black bathing trunks and flip-flops, and all of the sailors were friendly and apparently very glad to have company.

   

We walked their island, snorkeled on the ocean reef, and collected fresh conch for dinner (a highly overrated delicacy). I also attempted to set up my new hammock on the bow for the evening. I dreamed of fresh breezes while I swayed gently back and forth over crystal clear waters. Or so I thought. I got the hammock slung about 4 feet above the deck and climbed in. A slight sideways motion on the boat started the hammock swinging, gently at first, then building momentum. By the time i screamed for Andrea to save me I was swinging in an long arc about four feet left, then four feet right, with no way to grab anything to slow myself down. Andrea might have been a little quicker to help if she hadn’t been laughing so hard.

A weather forecast of high winds to come got us moving the next morning for San Andres. We had a beautiful spinnaker sail for most of the 25 mile trip to San Andres arriving just before dark. San Andres is a resort island for the Colombian mainlanders (sort of a mini Hawaii). The island’s economy revolves around the water sports, tour boats, and scooters for the tourist population. It is hard (impossible) to describe how clear the water is in this part of the world (to call it swimming pool water or bath tub water would be a disservice), and San Andres is a popular snorkel and dive spot.  The main town is clean and modern, but the island is small.



There is a considerable Jamaican influence, but Spanish is the language, and we may very well be the only Americans on the island. We rented a golf cart to tour the island and made a complete circumnavigation in about 4 hours with stops along the way for beers and coconut drinks. The rental manager was very impressed that I already knew how to drive a golf cart.  Now I know where old Club Cars go to die. Our first view of Colombia is very favorable.  Everyone has been very friendly, the stores are modern and full of goods for sale, the music is loud and raucous, and the prices are suited to tourists (a little high) though a bottle of Colombian beer only costs about $1.50 at the bars. 

   

We are settled here for a few days waiting for a good weather window to sail to Providencia 60 miles to the north. Winds have been blowing 15 to 25 knots from the north since we arrived, and the seas are up, so we will wait patiently for a good opportunity to sail this final short leg before setting off on the long trip to Guanaja and Roatan.

 

Full Speed Ahead

Yes, this voyage is underway and by the time most of you see this e-mail we will be well out to sea. We are planning on floating out the Bocas del Toro channel at 3PM Bocas time (EST) bound for Albuquerque Cays (175 mi.), San Andres (25 mi) and Providencia (60 mi). These are all Colombian islands in the Caribbean . With any luck this will be a 35 to 40 hour sail to Albuquerque . We realized that our long stay in Panama has had us sailing within sight of land ever since we entered Panama on the Pacific coast in December 2009, so we are just a little apprehensive. Is the boat ready? Are we ready? What can possibly go wrong? We’ll see.

We skipped town early this year (April 12) leaving the office busy with last minute returns, but sticking to our plan to work less, sail more. With multiple experiences flying the SFO to Panama route we managed one of our easiest trips. Quick connections, zip through customs, familiar hotel and casual dinner. After an early morning flight from Panama to Bocas we were rewarded with a spectacularly beautiful morning with flat seas, bright sunshine, and a cool breeze. We ate at a small, waterfront café and then took a slow boat ride to the marina to “de-winterize” the boat.

Three days of intermittent work and beach trips had us ready to move to the Bocas anchorage and start provisioning for the trip. The only fly in the ointment was our inability to install the new solar panels. They turned out to be too heavy for the planned installation, but it took a lot of work to get to the point where we realized that. My panels are turning out to be a lot like my friend Keith’s salmon boat: big investment, no return. Keith has the boat in his front yard masquerading as a lawn ornament. My solution was to sell one of the panels and keep “planning” for the other.

Our final night at Red Frog was a beach barbeque at the “tent resort” with friends. Good food, cold beer, and a pleasant reggae band made for a suitable send off from our home away from home. From now until early June we will be sailing to a series of small cays, ocean reefs, uninhabited islands, and larger islands with small towns. We will carry most of our food and beverage, provisioning with fresh items when available. The beer bill was staggering, but we should be able to manage almost two months afloat without starving to death.

Very hopefully you will be hearing more about this trip soon.

Tom & Andrea

If you are following on Google Earth the first half of the trip looks like this: First stop Albuquerque Cays 12° 9.986'N, 81° 50.569'W then San Andres 12° 34.706'N, 81° 41.526'W, Isla Providencia 13° 22.790'N, 81° 22.439'W, Low Cay 13° 31.142'N, 81° 20.054'W, Quito Sueno Bank 14° 18.691'N, 81° 12.790'W, and then 160 miles to Vivarillos 15° 50.010'N, 83° 18.270'W

Guilty Pleasures

Mea culpa, mea culpa. I have been guilty of total non-communication over the past several months and I apologize. We have had so many e-mails wondering if we are home, traveling, sailing, working, golfing, etc., and we have failed to respond. Incommunicado. Bad people.

Yes, we sailed in Panama from early November until almost February, and we are back in CA working (towards retirement) while we plan our next adventure afloat. We spent the three months in Bocas del Toro, Panama enjoying good winds, pleasant anchorages, white sand beaches, small bars, cheap beer, rain, bugs, humidity, running aground, swimming with jelly fish (even paradise isn't perfect), and having a good old time. Of course that is very much what we had done the previous two trips south so I got a little bored with the blog and ignored it for a while. But no more.

When we first arrived in Panama in 2009 we had intended to spend just 3 months in the country before moving on. Instead we just spent our third Christmas in Panama which should tell you something about how much we enjoy the place. The trip was great, but we are now home (cold), and I am making an effort to catch up on the mail.

The boat is in great shape with new sails, new motors, new windows, a smaller bank account, etc. We are ready to move on, but the crew is reluctant to leave such a pleasant place as Bocas del Toro for the open ocean trip north. We have made a lot of friends there, both liveaboards with their own sailing plans, and ex-pats who have chosen Panama for their retirement, and we have enjoyed the frequent gatherings on beaches or in restaurants or on other boats. This we will miss.

We are planning on flying back to Panama in early April, and the goal (I won't use "sink or swim" to describe our determination) is to leave the boat in Guatemala at the end of this trip. We have new solar panels to install when we return and a new GPS sitting here in living room, but then... off to greater adventures.

The trip from Panama to Guatemala will take us several weeks. We will cover about 900 miles of ocean travel with stops at small islands and reefs to break up the passage. The first leg of the trip will be moving north from Panama to the Colombian islands of San Andres and Providencia. These islands are some 250 miles from Bocas del Toro and about 100 miles off the Nicaraguan coast. From there it is on to the Hobbey Islands and Roatan in Honduras. The leg from Providencia to Roatan is about 400 miles and would take about 72 hours of continuous sailing, but we plan to spend several days along the way enjoying some uninhabited islands and coral reefs. Hopefully we will also be spending a good deal of time in Roatan before we have to seek shelter from the summer hurricane season in that part of the Carribbean. One of the nice things about Panama is/was... no hurricanes!

From Roatan we will sail another 200 miles to the Rio Dulce River in Guatemala where we will head upriver about 20 miles to hide out for the summer. Of course we will be back in CA for golf and farming by late June while the boat rides out the storms in the river all by itself. All of these islands and the Rio Dulce River are supposed to be beautiful and we are looking forward to the new scenery, but the trip will involve a lot of travel. Because we have been lying idle in Panama for so long we have almost forgotten the rigors of an ocean passage. Still we are both looking forward to being under sail for days at a time. AND.. we hear that the Rio Dulce is a social hotspot for cruisers in the Carribbean, but more on that later.

I absolutely PROMISE to do a better job with e-mails and updating the blog in the spring. It should be a little easier because our trip will be a little more adventuresome than just sitting in some palapa bar sipping mai tais... or will it?

Tom and Andrea

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