Having a blas(t) in the San Blas (Panama)

 

Since arriving in the San Blas islands, strong winds have kept us safely anchored in the same spot. Those conditions calmed a bit today as they had been forecast to do. We’re both very glad that we weren’t further delayed in Cartagena for another day or so. Our journey here would have been a very different story.

This morning we took the dinghy over to a little uninhabited island about 200m from where we’re anchored. That island might be called Niatupo, but the maps we have for here are a bit confusing.

I can say with some certainty that it’s in the ‘Limon Cayes’ group of islands.. but beyond that, details are sketchy!

Tied the dinghy to a palm tree on shore then went exploring.

The shoreline tells a sad sorry: at the pristine sand’s edge, a man made line of plastic litter rims the island. The majority of this detritus consists of plastic bottles, closely followed (somewhat bizarrely) by an inordinate number of used plastic ‘Crocs’ shoes in all shapes, colours and sizes.

Despite this obvious blot on the island, it remains a beautiful spot for a morning stroll. The tide is high, so at this stage we can’t quite walk all the way round, so have to content ourselves with a there and back paddle around 2/3 of the island - this takes maybe an hour or so.

Back on board, a little later we are approached by a pair of local Kuna Indian lads in a dugout - big warm grins as they approach, and shouts of:

‘Hola! Hola! Sir renty Nooh! HOLA’

As they pull up alongside I head up to see what’s on offer… it’s lobster!

They’re asking $6, (“Siete”) but we happily agree to $5 (“Cinqo”) - I suspect that’s a win for them (there’s cheeky grins all round), and an absolute bargain for us!

That transaction completed, they asked if I had any ‘soda’ - usually a no, but having provisioned recently we still had a large bottle of Coke in the fridge. I gave them a cold glass each. The guy in the bow took a sip then turned heavenwards with a look of utter bliss on his face and made some grateful noises. It must be thirsty work paddling between islands - I gave them the rest of the bottle, still cold from the recently resurrected fridge.

As we waved goodbye, I asked them to come again if they caught any big fish. They returned in the afternoon with some descent sized crabs and two more smaller lobsters (really too small) all of which I declined. I think they also offered to clean the hull (pointed below and said ‘Limpiar’).. but that’s a job I can take care of myself when we get to a suitable spot.

While we’ve been anchored here waiting for the wind to drop, we’ve also been visited by a couple of the local Kuna ladies in a similar oar propelled dugout - they were selling flags - which we didn’t need, but we gave them some milk (“leche por favor”) as they asked so nicely.

Shamed by the local Indians into cleaning the hull, the next morning saw me don the mask and snorkel and jump in with scraper and wire brush. It’s really not too bad. A few pimple sized barnacles along the water line, and not much else hull wise. The propellor though had a large build up of weed and barnacles that took some scraping and brushing to get clear - all in all, it looks pretty good down there for now.

Before lunch we managed to explore another of the palm filled islands within dinghy distance. This time managing to circumnavigate on foot. There’s signs of a failed venture of some sort there: a partially collapsed jetty and possibly the remains of a bar, but all very tumble down now. Once again Crocs (the shoe) and plastic bottles dominate the shoreline, leaving a dirty man made tide mark rimming the shore.

Don’t get me wrong, the islands here are absolutely gorgeous, but the rubbish is the one thing that detracts.

Lazy afternoon back on board.

That brings me to today. I spent today swearing in a hole….

Fell down a mineshaft?

Man trap set by the local indians?

No… none of that.

I was trying to fix the autopilot.

I’m not going into details.

After a day cramped up working on it, admittedly getting a lot closer to a fix than when I started, it remains inoperable. I’ve added that to the growing ‘work in progress’ list, that includes (but is not limited to!) Anenometer, generator, washing machine, saloon lights, engine oil leak, smelly heads, Depth sensor, VHF radio…and the other radio too!

We relocated to Chichime Cayes this morning - negotiating reefs at both ends of the hour long trip here. Dropped amongst a few other boats widely dotted along the perfect shore at our stern.

This island, perhaps 500m long has a few palm shacks, some made partially from wrecked boats. There’s a few locals around, not unfriendly, but pretty ambivalent to our prescience. They’re just getting on with whatever they’re doing, be that:

Painting a shooting on the side of your canoe, playing basketball with your mates, collecting crabs on the shoreline or doing your washing on a palm stump.

There’s also a few brightly painted tourist cabins here - they’re pretty rustic and basic, but a perfect location for a get away from it all.

Exotic bird song can be heard from the boat. Brightly coloured hummingbirds and toucans are supposedly resident here, but so far on the island we’ve only seen some large grackles (which we’ve seen throughout the Caribbean) and some small plovers flitting along the shore. There’s also frigate birds wafting around high above the palms waiting for something to steal.

It is a true paradise - I know I use the term often, but picture postcard is what it is.

We explore the small island of Chichime the next day. There’s a group of backpacking charterers in their 20s playing football/volleyball with some of the local kids - all of whom seem to be having a great time.

We start looking at molas - these are brightly coloured embroidered artworks that the Kuna produce. Didn’t buy any on Chichime, but later in the day we revisited the island from yesterday and bought a couple from the nice ladies there. On Chichime there’s some low slung dogs (think dingo crossed with a sausage dog) and two cats who are receptive to a bit of head tickle and a stroke.

All in all I think we rather like the San Blas islands, but with yet another strong blow forecast in the coming days, I think we’ll depart sooner rather than later - thankfully, there’s lots more palm fringed islands to visit along the way back to Aus.

…and just like that we’re upping anchor!

It’s just pre-dawn, I’ve heard the most amazingly exotic dawn chorus I have ever heard as we raised the tender back up on deck. As I’m taking the bridle off the anchor chain, a single dolphin arcs out of the water to wish me good morning… he doesn’t actually say ‘good morning’ but I’m guessing that’s what he meant.

As we leave the protection of the reef, the swell goes from nothing to 3m on the beam. This is within the acceptable range, but something of a shock when it’s first thing in the morning and you’ve had a few days of dead calm. Chez did not fair well initially, not sure how, but an excruciatingly painful back had her wincing in the corner - thankfully after a coffee and some painkillers it diminished to a bearable ache. I’m writing this at 10am, we’re making good time skirting along the North coast of Panama heading to either Linton Bay or Portobelo - both of which are nicely tucked away from the worst of the wind and swell.

Around noon, we were honoured with another quick visit from 3 or 4 large grey dolphins, think they were just enjoying surfing the waves rather than actually visiting us.

Arrived into the calm welcoming waters of Portobelo late afternoon. First impressions are good: jungly hills surround, lots of room, a small town, a couple of old defensive castles, and lots of pelicans successfully fishing in the waters around us. We dined out with some other cruisers; John, a chatty welsh guy who we’d met before and his recently arrived Scottish sailing partner Debbie, and Mary, a single handed American lady. We ate at Francesco’s - a small friendly Italian on the water. Food and company were both good. Settled up and left early ish as both very tired from our long day. In bed by 9.

Took in the small town the next morning, bumped into our new buddies from last night at the local bakers. Reconnoitred the supermarket - not bad and relatively cheap. There’s a few friendly stray dogs wandering around, and a few locals, but generally the town seems a sleepy little spot. Definitely a Spanish colonial feel to the place with colourful Caribbean hints and a jungly backdrop, it all makes for a rather charming town, not at all touristy despite its history and rustic beauty.

After our trip to town we explored one of the places Mary had recommended last night; a winding jungle river that snakes away from the bay. Dodging a couple of wrecked yachts (one of which bore the town of origin as ‘Leith, Scotland’) we made our way in. Along the way the outboard engine overheated and began smoking in a rather concerning way… add it to the list!

Thankfully the wind and the river’s current were against us, so we turned and drifted the mile or so back to Serenity Now. Lots of unidentifiable hoots and chirps from the jungle banks as we slowly glided by - a lovely way to spend a morning regardless of the engine failure!

In the afternoon I headed over to town while Chez read her book. I climbed to the heavily overgrown top of one of the town’s castle. Great views of the bay and town from up there. On my stroll back into town I said hello to a couple of friendly dogs and cats along the way. It’s not an affluent town by any means, but holds charm galore. All my “hola’s” and smiles were returned by the locals. I like it here.

…and then the bank decide to lock all our accounts ‘until we pop into a branch to confirm our ID’…

This meant a frustrating day of emails and a phone call to resolve - at least temporarily. They now only want me to send a photo of my passport …but it must be signed by an Australian consular official to avoid locking my accounts again….

SERENITY NOW!!!!