Sloths, Bats and Breakages

Back at the boat after our break in Costa Rica, we had a number of jobs we wanted to complete while we were in a marina.   We stayed for two more nights, working like fury to complete as many tasks as possible and cleaning everything that could be removed.

When we arrived at the marina two weeks earlier, it had been a stressful arrival as, not only was the  entrance very shallow but the width of the berth we had been allocated was only just as wide as our boat.   We were squeezed between two wooden poles and Cerulean was squashed between them, rubbing up against the fenders we had tied to the poles to protect our fiberglass.   

Ruffian had introduced us to a mobile depth sounder that linked to the electronic charts we used.  We loved the idea of being able to use our dinghy to survey the depth of bays that are either unchartered or with limited information, particularly in Panama and the South Pacific, opening up difficult anchorages that we would otherwise not attempt to enter.  Just before we went away we ordered the equipment and excitedly collected the parcel on our return.  

Bocas Del Toro is an area of isolated beauty with eight main islands and lots of quiet bays surrounded by forest and mangroves.   Cruisers seem to arrive in Bocas and fall in love with the area so decide to stay and we met numerous Americans that spent six months of the year in Bocas on their boat and six months back home.   We can certainly see the appeal of cruising in Panama, although the sailing in Bocas is not great and we spent a lot of time motoring between anchorages.

We were keen to find some Sloths in the wild and eventually we were rewarded as a young sloth hung in the trees above us being unusually active as it combed its hair and looked down on us.   Sloths only come down from the trees once a week to defecate, so it’s a rare event to see one on the ground, but we were lucky enough to witness one close to us.  They are such odd looking creatures with back legs longer than the front, awkward clawed feet, not designed for walking on, and squashed faces that look permanently surprised.   We kept our distance and watched quietly and enthralled.

We were often the only boats in an anchorage, shared with Ruffian as we continued to explore land and water together.   Some of the bays were surrounded by mangroves and if we anchored too close we found we were fighting bugs in the evening the most vicious being no-see-ums, which sometimes forced us inside.  

One day Iain and Fi collected us in their dinghy and suggested we went in search of a bat cave they had read about.   We all had little expectations as we motored through an almost hidden break in the mangroves and found ourselves in a shallow tree-lined river, skirting around fallen trees and obstacles as we progressed further upstream.   Sloths lounged on branches above us – one with a baby on her stomach as she lay in a bough of the tree.   On we motored, marveling at the quiet beauty of the river until, nearing the end of the navigable part, there was a large clearing and big jetty.    We were met by Juan, one of the owners of the land we were on, who led us to a large wooden building on stilts and signaled to us to choose a hard hat, head torch and waterproof shoes.  We were all a little surprised and dubious, thinking this was a potential tourist trap but, not seeing any other tourists there, went with it!    Juan tried communicating with us in his limited English and our even more limited Spanish, and led us through the forest as monkeys rustled in the trees above us until we reached a slit in rocks and entrance to the cave.    We stripped off and, wearing just our swimming togs, followed Juan into the darkness.   As soon as we were inside bats flew at us, catching the insects we were disturbing, changing direction at the last minute to avoid hitting us.   As we looked up, bats were hanging from every space of the cave.   We were led deeper into the underground caverns, sometimes having to swim in the cold waters as the underground river was too deep to wade through.   One obstacle was having to duck under the water to get past a large rock blocking our way – something that certainly pushed my limits but I’m so proud of myself for continuing.   Later we talked about how being in a group certainly encouraged both me and Fi to push our boundaries as we didn’t want to let ourselves, or anyone else, down!   The stalactites were beautiful, forming coral like structures hanging from the high roof of the cave.   It was one of those experiences that will be with me for the rest of my life.   Our initial skepticism was overshadowed by complete awe and wonder – we felt privileged to have been there and amazed that it appeared to be a truly hidden gem off the beaten path.

We had been having a few issues with our windlass (electric winch to raise/drop the anchor) and with the spares on hand, we decided to return to a bay close to Bocas town in case we needed additional tools.   We pulled up the anchor and turned on the watermaker to make use of the engine being on, as our watertank was getting low after a few days in an anchorage close to mangroves.    As we motor sailed to our destination the watermaker suddenly turned off and, on investigating, we discovered the high pressure pump (essential for making fresh water) was looking very much the worse for wear with one side almost separated from the rest of the pump.   

Steve worked tirelessly for the next few days as he took the pump apart and reassembled it while we tried to source the parts we needed in a timeframe that suited us.  The manufacturers, Echotec, were fabulous, understanding our urgency and arranging to courier the parts to us in Shelter Bay Marina, our next destination when we leave Bocas.   We were now low on water, so booked to go into a marina for a couple of nights so we could fill up with water and Steve could continue to work on the windlass.   Bocas Marina is a small place located about 20minutes from the town but provides free ferries four times a day which we made good use of during our short stay.   We really enjoyed the friendly marina, meeting numerous interesting people while Steve worked in the hot sun repairing the windlass and I carted drinking water backwards and forwards to fill the tanks.  

With the windlass fixed and tanks filled, we headed out of the marina to join Ruffian in a quiet anchorage about 30 miles east.  We opted to head out into the rolling seas so we could sail to our anchorage, instead of enduring a few more hours of motoring through the protected waters and narrow passages that we loved in Bocas.   

We spent one more night on anchor with Ruffian, had one more goodbye hug and then left them behind for the final time on the Caribbean side of the canal as their future plans are quite different to ours.    We were heading out again on our own path into the big blue yonder and, as sad as it was to say goodbye, we felt excited about what lay ahead as we set our sails for the entrance to the Panama Canal for our final sail in the blue waters of the Caribbean.