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February 10, 2008
Portobello to Colon, Panama
We left the anchorage in Portobello around 7am and steered for the Atlantic entrance to the Panama Canal. The forecast was for very little wind, but we managed to sail a broad reach in light northeasterly 10 knot winds. The closer we got to the breakwater of the canal, the busier the container ship traffic became. We lost count as we got closer and closer, until finally we could see the channel into the port. I had expected something slightly more dramatic – like a poured concrete wall, about 10 feet high. As it turns out, part of the old historic forts in Portobello were torn down to provide fill for the breakwater.
We arrived at Shelter Bay Marina, tied up, and quickly set to finding internet, telephone and the usual creature comforts that we had been missing for two weeks. By this point, over three weeks away from home, I was growing increasingly homesick. My mission was to connect with the airline to begin to put the pieces together for my return home. The marina had one telephone, which they monopolized for their own telephone and fax needs. There was an international telephone outside the office, but local calls required the rental of a cell phone. $1.50 per day, $0.35 per minute. I bit.
The marina office told me to give myself at least 3 hours to get to the airport in Panama City, and that I would need to hire a driver, probably $75. Friends of Mike and Judy on Tango highly recommended Stanley. First, I called the airline. I could get a direct flight at 9:30am or a connection through Houston at 2:30pm. Dreading the thought of leaving the marina at 3:30 in the morning, I opted for the 2:30pm flight. Then I called Stanley. He suggested a 10am departure for the 2:30pm flight. Got it.
On our way to the marina, we got stuck at one of the canal locks. In the following photo, behind the bus you will see stacked containers. These are on a ship in the canal. In the centre of the photo, you will see a little train on the top of a rise in the track, sort of like a roller coaster. The container ships are tied to the trains, and the trains guide them through the canal. Cool!
They finally opened the gates and we passed one of the locks. This photo was taken from the swing bridge while we passed the canal gates, with the container ship behind.
I caught my flight, landed in Houston, barely made my connection, and arrived in Newark around 1am. I collected my backpack from the carousel, and walked out to get a cab. I was hit by a blast of cold air and wind. 10f, -12c, 25 knot gusts. My suntan/sunburn froze and fell off. Clearly I had become acclimated to the southern Caribbean weather.
I arrived home around 2am, and I was really thrilled to find Chis sleeping soundly. The apartment seemed warm, inviting, but so not a boat. It has taken me a few days to settle back in to life ashore. I am grateful that Chis is patient and supportive of my sailing excursions. It is a tricky balance to long for the sea, and yearn for my spouse. Ideally, Chis, the sea and me will once again rejoin. It is important to dream, and dream BIG. Adventure keeps us young and alive.
Many thanks to my dear hosts, Mike & Judy, for your limitless support and hospitality. Expressing my concern that I had overstayed my welcome, Mike simply said “What? You’re almost family.” Mike has never met my family, who after almost a month in close quarters on a boat I would likely have hoisted in a bosun’s chair to the top of the mast and left there for the turkey vultures. I adore you both, and your continued voyages inspire me. Your courage is endless.
And next on Dave’s quest to sail the world’s oceans? Perhaps this volunteer crew thing is a great way to see the world? Maybe I can circumnavigate the globe by hitching rides with others? Stay tuned. The journey has only just begun!
Posted by dave at 07:41 PM | Comments (0)
February 08, 2008
Portobello, Panama
Posted by dave at 03:22 PM | Comments (0)
Portobello, Panama
On our way to Portobello, I found myself looking seaward, not toward land. There is something about the sea that draws me. [Now back in New York, while face down in a yoga class yesterday, the instructor asked me whether I missed land while I was away; I responded that land is where all the problems are, and that at sea, you have no physical reminders of the problems you carry with you always. At sea, it seems, things are so much simpler.]
The coastline changed dramatically from flat, wind-swept atolls, to tall, rugged, mountains. As we approached the tiny Isla Tambor, the swells were big enough that it appeared at the crest of a swell, then disappeared when we sank into the next swell. As though King Neptune himself had sewn button holes in the satin fabric of the sea.
Portobello was discovered by Christopher Columbus on November 2, 1502 on his fourth voyage. It was chosen as the Caribbean trans-shipment centre in 1586 due to its deep harbour and convenience. Between 1574 and 1702 45 fleets of galleons, none carrying less than 30 million pesos of riches, sailed from here to Seville in Spain.
Portobello is home to Cristo Negro at the Church of San Felipe de Portobello. It washed ashore from a ship that wrecked offshore. The locals decided to name it their patron saint when cholera was rampant in Panama. Cholera skipped the village and ever since, they have worshipped it. A festival is celebrated on October 21 each year.
It is a quaint and quiet town. We bought a bunch of fruit and vegetables out of the back of a pickup truck. The "biblioteca" had one functioning computer with internet, and after a long 40 minute wait, I gave up and bought a phone card. I called Chis. I needed to hear his voice. We talked for quite a while.
Posted by dave at 03:14 PM | Comments (0)
February 07, 2008
Lemmon Cays to Chicheme Cays, Islas de San Blas, Panama
With Justino finished with the stainless steel, the larder restocked with bread and bananas, and our skin pruned by the salt water snorkelling, we decided to pull up anchor and move to the Chichime Cays. This would be our jumping off point from the islands and our staging point for our sail westward along the Panamanian coast toward Colon.
The entrance was between two reefs, and the haziness in the sky was making it difficult to spot them. We found the narrow channel and drifted in slowly, found a spot to anchor and settled in for the night. The anchorage was not large, and afforded little room for swinging in the event that the winds changed like they did the night before. Our stern was sitting about 200 feet off from a little island connected to the smaller reef, and with 150 feet of anchor chain out, a gusty wind could find us in big trouble.
I had a very restless sleep, worrying endlessly about dragging, swinging and finding the reef in the middle of the night. A couple of times I awoke and poked my head up to make sure things were still good. The blinding darkness upset my senses and reviewing our situation served only to confuse, not confirm. The darkness was deeper than the inside of my eyelids.
We woke at 6 the next morning and hadn't moved a centimetre. Despite my anxious and restless sleep, I was in good spirits, singing "On the Road Again" (Willy Nelson), and "On the good ship, lolly-pop" (Judy Garland?).
Back out to the open sea for a 53 mile trip to Portobello on the coast.
Posted by dave at 02:47 PM | Comments (0)
February 05, 2008
Coco Bandero Cays to Lemmon Cays, Islas de San Blas, Panama
We enjoyed a beautiful beam reach in 10 knots of wind in very light seas to arrive at the Eastern Lemmon Cays. We went exploring in the dinghy and discovered a tiny little island with a dock and two Kuna families. Closest to the dock, we met Lydia, who was selling molas. We overheard a couple of other cruisers asking about “pan”, or bread. “Manana” was what I got. I walked up to the little home and poked my head in the window. There was a young man inside, and I asked him in Spanish when he expected to have bread again. Around noon tomorrow, is what he replied.
Shortly after we had returned to the boat, Justino came by asking if we needed him to do any work. He was paddling his surfboard, the nose of which appeared to have snapped off (or been eaten by a shark, I thought?). He had made his paddle out of a fallen palm tree. He had been learning English from the cruisers, who had helped him put together a brochure explaining his services. He was putting his children through school on the mainland and needed the money. Mike and Judy hired him to polish the stainless steel, which he said he would do for $10 plus lunch. It turned out that Justino lived on the same island as the bread maker.
We woke up the next morning facing south in very shallow water. The winds blow consistently at this time of year from the northeast, which was the way we were facing last night. In our turn, we had moved over a series of coral heads. I threw on my snorkel gear to determine that no damage had done by the boat.
Justino showed up mid-morning and set quickly to work to polish the stainless steel. We went to Dog Island in the dinghy to snorkel on a wreck. As we pulled up to the beach, we spotted a sign that said we must pay $6 per person to use the beach. We weren’t here to use the beach, so we pushed off and dropped the anchor 30 or so feet from the beach and started to put on our gear. Within seconds, a guy came swimming out to us yelling something and frantically waving his hands. On his return to the beach, he waved at us to get out of there. We were apparently not welcome.
We returned to the boat and decided to snorkel the reef just off the side of the boat. It was beautiful. Afterward, Mike and I went to Justino’s island to get some bread. As we were getting ready, we heard a horn. Justino said it was the bread baker announcing that the bread was ready. When we arrived at the little island, an ulu had arrived with a load of bananas. The women were busy loading them into burlap sacks. Mike and I offered to help carry them, and after several very heavy loads, we were paid 2 bananas for our hard labour. The women were very grateful for our help.
We returned to the boat with six loaves of bread and 6 additional bananas, for which we paid $1.20.
Posted by dave at 02:44 PM | Comments (0)
February 04, 2008
Coco Bandero Cays, Islas de San Blas, Panama
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Eastern Holandes Cays to the Coco Bandero Cays, Islas de San Blas, Panama
Shortly after we dropped anchor in the Coco Bandero Cays, two men in an ulu offered us 4 fresh lobster for $15. In my broken Spanish, I persuaded them to deliver us the tails only. They obliged. Soon after, a mola maker arrived with some beautiful samples. Judy chose two, and I chose a couple as well. We hopped in the dinghy and went to this tiny island to snorkel. Beautiful! Reef squid, plenty of sponges and fish, and Judy saw an octopus!
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Sunrise, Coco Bandero Cays, Panama
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February 03, 2008
Kuna Yala
The San Blas Islands of Panama are home to the indigenous Kuna Indians. It has been called the best preserved culture and traditions of all the tribes in the Americas. The area is called Kuna Yala by the 55,000 Kunas that control the area; in fact, the Kunas do not like the name San Blas because it was given to them by the Spanish invaders.
The land is not divided into properties. There are no fences. Kunas are accepting of visitors, but settling and marrying is strictly prohibited. They are physically small, well-proportioned, energetic and healthy. They are peaceful, non-aggressive and crimeless.
The Kunas are organized within a strict hierarchy of tribal leaders. Each village has three “sailas” (chiefs) who hold the highest authority at the village level. The sailas are holders of the Kuna spiritualism, medicinal knowledge and history. Three “caciques” (high chiefs) rule the nation, each representing his part of the land; one cacique is elected supreme leader of the nation.
Their economic mainstay is the coconut trade. Every coconut has an owner. Trade is primarily with Colombia. They also trade crab, lobster and octopus caught by Kuna skin divers.
The women make “molas”, a style of reverse appliqué. These items are beautiful, colourful and depict animals, plants and geometric shapes. The Kunas travel in “ulus”, which are traditional dugout canoes.
Kuna ulu under sail
I have no photographs of the Kunas because they shun being photographed. I often struggle to photograph people I don’t know because I consider it to be an invasion of one’s soul. Friends provide tacit approval when they don’t object to having their photo taken. This is why I am not a photo-journalist.
The Kunas originated in the Darien Mountains on Panama’s mainland. They slowly migrated to the islands. The 17 and 18 centuries saw many incursions – the Spanish conquistadors, invaders, disease, other tribes, and pirates. In 1750, they became violent and massacred intruding settlers. In 1785, they signed a treaty with Spanish authorities of Gran Colombia allowing them to live in peace. After Panama’s independence in 1903, the Kunas remained loyal to Colombia. They killed Panamanian police and Kunas of mixed heritage in the rebellion of 21 February 1925. The flag of the rebellion was the swastika, long before it was used by Hitler and with no attachment. After the rebellion, the Kuna declared independence. When word reached Panama City, the government mounted a military campaign. The USS Cleveland intervened and relations with Panama are now stable. The Kunas became part of Panama in 1925 under the condition that the government recognize their tribal laws, traditions and customs. After passing its own constitution in 1945, they acquired full judicial administrative powers in 1953.
The Kunas are a truly unique and magical people. They are not suspicious, but friendly and curious. I saw no evidence of malnutrition, and their health looks better than most North Americans. As a former liveaboard sailor who felt strongly about living with little means, I worried about fuel, water, food and electricity. The Kunas have next to nothing, but live with a greater sense of community than I have witnessed in a long time. This may be the one last truly untouched cruising grounds in the world, and I saw evidence that things are changing. For example, the inhabitants of one island chased us away from snorkeling on a wreck because we wouldn’t go ashore to pay a fee. Still, $1.20 bought us 6 bananas and 6 loaves of bread. $11 bought us $30 worth of fruit and vegetables. My hope is that the Kunas protect what they have, and that anyone lucky enough to see this part of the world should do so with the utmost respect and admiration for the courage these people have to honour their traditions and culture.
Posted by dave at 07:49 PM | Comments (0)
February 02, 2008
Ulu
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Isla Porvenir to the Eastern Holandes Cays, Islas de San Blas, Panama
We took Marciano ashore before dawn yesterday to catch his flight to Panama City, then Bogota, then Cartagena, and finally back to Aruba. The connections were not going to work in his favour, leaving him stranded in Bogota for the weekend. He made the best of it by connecting with a friend.
Mike & Judy at the end of the Runway, Isla Porvenir
Judy was finally feeling well enough to go ashore to explore, and we decided to stop at the bar/hotel/restaurant/gift shop/travel agency/phone card place and have a Balboa (local beer). On the label, it says “sabor intenso” – intense flavour. And it was.
We also got to swing through a couple of the local villages on the nearby islands. More on the local Kuna Indians in a bit. But this photo gives you a taste of what these people are all about.
Kuna Village
The walls of the homes are made from sugar cane, the roofs from palm fronds thatched together with crawlers from the jungles, the floors from packed sand, and nothing more than hammocks as furniture. The roofs last 15 years and do not leak in the rain!
And after we completed our exploration of the immediate area, we decided to move on to the Eastern Holandes Cays. Las Islas de San Blas is a vast archipelago on Panama’s Caribbean coast, including more than 340 islands over the eastern part of the Continental Shelf. Some of the islands are close to the mainland, and some are closer to the barrier reef that lies several miles from shore. The Eastern Holandes Cays lay immediately behind the barrier reef, well off the mainland. Our chosen anchorage was called the Swimming Pool, named by gringos for the shallow clear water, looking very much like the bottom of a swimming pool. We saw plenty of rays gliding about in the shallow waters.
Swimming Pool Anchorage
Posted by dave at 02:46 PM | Comments (0)