San Blas Islands, Panama

Author: Pete

 

After clearing in to Panama at Porvenir, we sailed east to the Cayos Holandes. Sailing is a glorious thing when a reef acts as a break wall and there’s no waves to be seen. Made it to Miriadup and anchored in six feet of water on a shelf that dropped to eighty with haste.

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Tandem anchored with our new bruce anchor because the holding was poor in crunchy coral bits and our main anchor wouldn’t dig in much. The water was kicked up from the wind and the water clarity wasn’t great.

The next morning we had a leisurely breakfast, with nowhere to be. Mango, granola, yogurt, and fresh coconut hacked out of it’s woody bonds by yours truly. Spent the rest of the day snorkeling off Waisaladup, just to the west. Great drop off with nice soft corals. Sometimes I feel bored now without being on the spearfishing hunt. I contented myself to work on my free diving depth along the drop off. Saw a great Spotted Eagle Ray at thirty feet and pursued him for a while.  Also, took a quick dinghy trip out close to a wreck for some pictures of the rusted beast.

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Look Mom, above and below water:

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That night we had drinks on Eventide, another Lagoon 380 with young bucks aboard hoping to make a circumnavigation. They have roughly the same itinerary as us. I think we’ll see them along the way.

 

I should also mention that before we headed out to go snorkeling, a young guy in a lancha pulled up selling crab. We declined, but he volunteered to take me out spearfishing on the rough outer reef the following day. So, I jumped for the opportunity. The next morning, I met up with Jesus and took off in his hand-built canoe to the deep water. He had a pistol-type spear gun, and I had my trusty Hawaiian sling as we zoomed out in his narrow boat. His armament and nice fins contrasted starkly with his 1970’s Sea Quest style oval mask and junky snorkel. Waves splashed into the little boat, another friend Antonio bailed with a plastic bottle, smiling with his two unfortunate front teeth. Jesus fished as we went, all the while motor us through the choppy breakwater, he and caught a 25 pound, four foot long Permit, gorgeous and silver, on a simple hand line. Very impressive.

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Weaving through the breaking waves we anchored with a rusty, four pound Danforth tied to a truck brake drum on Frankenstein line, all pieced together out of small bits. Right into the coral he threw it and into the rolling water we plunged. Jesus’s spear gun could hit fish at 3 meters from spear-tip to fish, and mine only 50 centimeters. He also swam like a shark, and really outfished me 20 to 1. I was worried about the ethics of him taking me out to spearfish since gringos aren’t supposed to. But really, I just snorkeled and watched him fish. When we got back to the boat Antonio reassured me that it was okay to feel like a loser when spearfishin’ wit Jésus. “Es una maquina”, said Antonio. “He’s a machine.”

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The topography was fantastic. With sheer walls and deep caves. Eventually two reef sharks showed up so we took off and fished elsewhere. Dropped off half of our catch to Jesus’s island. The little kids climbed on me and looked at all my stuff. I felt ostentatious in my wetsuit.

Jesus dropped me off at the Tayrona in the afternoon. He left me two crab and three Pargo rojo (red snapper) and I paid him twenty bucks and a pair of spare dive gloves. He took off happily. I was exhausted.

While I was out in the deep, the rest of the Tayrona crew explored more of the area by snorkel and relaxed on the beach with some watery, but refreshing, Colombian beer left over from our time in Cartagena.

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After a few days in the Holandes, we pulled up anchor after a great bacon and egg breakfast. We headed west to snorkel the wreck and have lunch on Dog Island.

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Later in the afternoon, we motored a few minutes north to an anchorage off the picturesque Chichime. The girls read in the palm shade and I build a castle in the perfect sand.

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Haven’t had a good beach in a while and it got me in a Zen mood. So I came up with this. Sounded prosaic at the time.

 “Life isn’t about searching for the best starfish on the beach. It’s about building the best sand castle.”

 

Flat calm the next day as we started on our way to Colon. Perfect day for being out on the water. Terrible day for sailing. We motored some eight hours from the San Blas heading west. The tiny islands slid slowly to our stern in the mirror sea. Port engine keeps losing coolant. More now than before. Stopped the engines and bobbed for an hour, topped up, and kept motoring. Another project for pre-canal wait time in Colon.

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Followed the brooding mountainous coast for 40 miles, rounded Isla Grande, then Linton. The anchorage is gorgeous with dark green jungle dumping into the bay. We anchored off the south shore and immediately put the dinghy in. Asked around at three boats for Tom Valentin, an electrician who was recommended to us. He wasn’t home when we finally found his boat, so we put ashore at Isla Linton.

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The island is uninhabited and jungle encrusted. The diversity of the trees alone makes it look like a coral reef. There’s an abandoned research station on the island… and something lurking in the trees…

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MONKEYS! Big ones! Lithe, dark forms scuttle in the under brush and over growth as we landed and walked through the foliage to the eroding building. They look like big cats until they stand up. Tall cats! They walk on two legs with no hunch or lurching. It’s disconcerting how quickly they walk and just how human their bipedal locomotion is. I thought we had the monopoly on that! They come close to check us out. Too close. Miranda runs to the water. Monkeys hate the water, right? They’re big and strong, leaping huge gaps between the palms. They have sharp fangs and calculating eyes. We give them wide berth. It’s like Planet of the Apes with these creatures strolling in the ruins of the abandoned research center, slowly being reclaimed by jungle and sea.

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We take pictures and then head back to the boat for a swim. Made pizza for dinner with our last real provisions before breaking into the dried goods. Need to get to Colon to resupply.

Writing in my journal I noticed that it’s the beginning of February, and I’m still writing 2014 for the year! That’s pretty out of touch man.

 

Passage: Colombia to Panama

Author: Pete

 

We left Cartagena behind on the 28th of January.  Motored out of the harbor over the submerged wall and left her in our wake along with our good friends. Had a last dinner with the Glabs, they too graciously loaded us up with goodies for our passage: cookies, peanut butter, champagne, ham and cheese (real, glorious, from-the-United-States cheese). We were all set up, and boy did the goodie basket end up coming in handy. Thanks guys!

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Started our trip with two knots of wind astern and ended with twenty! Fickle mother nature! On the first night, we hid behind Isla Grande in the Rosario Islands just in front of a narrow water channel into the interior of the island. Snorkeled in choppy, cloudy water. The sea life left some wanting. We’ve been spoiled in the Bahamas. At least we were able to get in the water after being confined to land and the deck while in Cartagena’s yucky water.

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Having picked up my Dad in Cartagena and my sister in the Bahamas, we were now sailing with four aboard, which is tight. One wants to be picky about one’s own boat and it’s hard not to get annoyed when finely dialed systems are messed up. That’s the cost of having family and friends aboard though.  Which, of course, we wouldn’t change for the world.

 

Sailed from the Islas Rosario to another of Colombia’s Caribbean island chains, the Islas San Bernardo, for our next staging point for the Panamanian push. No wind in the morning meant we ran Wendy and Belinda for a few hours before the wind built enough to run a broad reach.

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It’s the life of a sailor. The wind is never going the way you want, or as strong as you want. Once the wind came up we had flat seas and a lovely sail to San Bernardo’s Isla Tintipan. Anchored in the lee of the island and swam ashore to a coconut grove and a thatched palapa.  We gave ourselves a day to snorkel and catch up on some sleep before our final 36-hour push to the San Blas.

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When our alarms rang the following morning at 3:30 am (the day of our first wedding anniversary), all hands were up for our departure and we motored around the north side of Tintipan, hoping that in the dark we weren’t bearing down on reef. Although we had electronic and paper charts of the area, it’s a generally poorly charted locale.

Out in the open water in the growing swell we hoisted, or rather unfurled, our sails and put ourselves on the right course to Panama! Swapped watches throughout the day. Went back to our zombie-deckhand mode of slight sickness mixed with sleeplessness. The day came and went (Happy Anniversary my love!). We had to motor a few hours from lack of wind. The night returned as did the wind. It blew the lettuce right off our tacos as we ate dinner in the coming dark. No, it’s not a euphemism for anything. Maybe it could be. “Man, that really blows the lettuce off my taco!”

Somewhere in the banging sleepless night (and not in the good way), Dad spotted a ship on the horizon. It got closer and closer. Took bearings on it and found it to be slowly coming our way. Couldn’t raise him on the radio or AIS, so we jibed to get out of the way. Jibing around the back of the waves is way easier than tacking straight through the front of them, and we bravely ran in the opposite way of our mysterious ship. The lights seemed to be maintaining their distance from us, like he was moving at our speed.   We sailed an hour out of our way, waiting for some sign that we’d cleared him. Turns out it was an oil platform and his nonexistent speed was close to our very-slow-sailboat speed. Zero is pretty close to five knots when you’re used to looking at big freighters going 20 knots. So, yup, we ran away from what turned out to be a stationary object. That’s embarrassing.  Nonetheless, we continued on our rocky way to Panama.

The wind kicked up higher in the night and we deployed an anchor drogue which slowed us to six knots and kept us from slewing and surfing in the waves. Kind of an intense night. As the waves abated in the wake of the dark we found ourselves a few hours short to make it to Porvenir for the next night. Decided to turn into shore and anchor on Apaidup, Snug Harbor, just off the jungle-crusted Panamanian coast.

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A Kuna man in a dugout canoe, an ulu, came up to our stern and chatted in Spanish with us for a while. He lived on Playon Grande and wanted to sell us Molas and fruit. We bought two hefty coconuts from him for one dollar each. His canoe streaked off to the nearest island with spear-like paddle flashing. He had a hand-scrawled anchor tattoo on his forehead. Pirate territory.

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We woke the next day to strong winds. Exited Snug Harbor, an apt name which we thanked a good night’s sleep to. Dodged islands and shoals the whole way. The light wasn’t great, but the sailing was fun. Still managed to burn my skin in the overcast. Damn UV rays!

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Pulled into the unwelcoming harbor at Porvenir. At least four wrecks dashed on the reefs reminded us of the uncharted nature of the San Blas. One boat was currently holding itself off a shoal with lines north of Channel Island as waves broke over it. Yikes. Our Garmin Blue charts were pretty worthless. We supposedly sailed through and on top of a couple islands. Glad to have The Panama Cruising Guide by Bauhaus. I know why it’s a standard now.

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When we anchored the customary welcoming party of ulus came scooting over. We caved and bought four lobsters from one canoe, as we are happy to support the economy. Of course we couldn’t clear in at 4:15 pm as the office closed at 4:00. So we wait out the night. We’ll pay around $700 in total. $193 for Panaman cruising permit, $100 for Panaman Visas per person, and $100 for the Kuna. The excitement of raising a new flag never gets old.  We’d arrived in Panama!

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