Panama – HandsOnDeck

Panama Pacific Side – Friends and Fixes

Kim was our first NZ friend to come on board Cerulean and we had both been looking forward to her arrival and visit. Not only is Kim fantastic company, who I love dearly, but she was a regular sailing partner on my first boat, EJ and brought with her some much needed supplies which she triumphantly deposited on the salon table! Amongst the many treasures were the required stainless steel bolts needed to repair the hydrovane, one of which had snapped on our passage from Bocas to Shelter Bay a few weeks earlier and had been impossible to source locally.

With one job done we now turned our attention to the most important, fixing the watermaker. We had been in regular contact with the manufacturers who had recommended the list of replacement parts we needed to rebuild the high pressure pump (an essential part of the watermaking process). The diagrams provided to complete the jigsaw were not clear and after failing to get the pump to build pressure and, even with the help of friends, we were unable to resolve the problem. I had so desperately hoped we could have the watermaker working while Kim was with us so she wouldn’t have to put up with minimal showers and strict water conservation measures but, with time pressing, we did not want to stay anchored in Panama city for the duration of her stay. A few days after coming through the canal, having explored some of the old city together, we set sail to a small island just south of the city called Toboga which would be a good overnight stay before leaving early the next morning to sail to Las Perlas islands, about 40NM to the south east. Named after the pearls found in abundance there, the small group of islands are a popular cruising ground and we were keen to explore them with Kim.

On arriving in Toboga we found the deep main bay was scattered with mooring buoys and the only anchoring spot was very close to the ferry terminal bringing regular boatloads of tourists to the island. We decided to pick up a buoy next to a lovely looking American yacht on a mooring in the next row over from them. Usually boats of similar size and shape will respond to wind and current in the same way so when one turns, the other usually follows so I wasn’t too concerned that the buoys were close to each other – certainly no closer together than in other places we have been. We settled in for the night, enjoying the calm, clear evening. At around 1am we were woken to someone banging on the boat and to our horror, found that we were T-boning our neighbour’s boat. They were on board trying to keep us from hitting them again and knocking furiously on our boat to alert us to what was happening. In the process our lower navigation light got smashed but fortunately that was the only damage done to both boats. We started our engine and backed away and they very generously offered to move moorings while we sorted things out on board.

After a quick visit to make sure there was no other damage to our neighbour’s boat, we left in the morning to sail to San Jose Island, the most southerly of the Las Perlas group. We arrived in the late afternoon and joined one other boat in the protected anchorage. The other boat turned out to be Free Spirit, who we had met in Bocas with Ruffian and sailed back in their company to Shelter Bay. They were leaving the next morning to start their Pacific crossing and we gave them a loud send off as they left the bay.

We had hoped we would see whale sharks in the bay, as we had been told of other boats who had enjoyed diving with them there, but we were not lucky enough to experience that. We did however have several huge flocks of Cormorants and Pelicans fly in formations overhead and around us. The sky was almost black with birdlife as different flocks circled the island numerous times.

It was lovely exploring the islands with Kim. We sailed, fished (unsuccessfully), saw big swarms of stingrays and even had one jump out the water infront of us, had dolphins play in our bow wave, celebrated Steves 60^th birthday and watched a whale breach and then spyhole as we sailed back to Panama City. All this was done with lots of laughter with the wonderful comfortable calm that good friendship brings, although it would have been great if we could’ve showered more!!!! All too soon, it was time for Kim to leave us and we returned to Panama anchoring in La Playita so we could catch up with our friends on Zelda before they left for Galapagos. We were both sad to see Kim go, not only because we had loved having her on board but it also it felt like a little bit of home was leaving us too!

After experiencing a couple of unpleasant nights on anchor in La Playita we decided to move around the corner to Las Brisas which is more sheltered from the roll of wake from canal traffic. The big disadvantage of Las Brisas is the dinghy dock which is very busy and, if the conditions and tide dictate, could cause damage to your dinghy – and dinghies are essential and valuable assets when you live on a boat! However, having a comfortable anchorage outweighed the possible dramas of the dinghy dock, which cost $1 per day compared to $50 a week in La Playita! Once we understood that the best place to leave the dinghy was behind the dock on a long line, we had only one drama when a friend called us while we were in the city to inform us that our dinghy was high and dry on the rocks. We had miscalculated the spring tide, but fortunately it was afloat when we returned and some kind sole had raised our outboard to ensure there would be no damage.

We were now waiting for more spare parts to arrive, including a replacement navigation light which we had been unable to find in Panama. Repairing the watermaker was now a very high priority and we were in contact with the manufacturer and had video calls with a knowledgeable and patient friend to get advice. In fact, it was our friend who suggested what the problem may be and much to our relief and delight, Steve serviced the parts (replacements had not been provided for this particular part) and all of a sudden we had a working pump!

Panama is a big modern city and thousands of yachts pass through it each year, but sourcing parts and getting professional work done in Panama is extremely hard, if not impossible! Several attempts have apparently been made to set up well equipped stores for sailors, but on-line shopping has killed them and it is usually cheaper to purchase the parts needed in the US and have them shipped through an agent. We did visit one store which was located in, what turned out to be, a rough area of the city. We had found our way there using public transport, which is only 35c for a bus or subway ride. Needing to stretch our legs, we decided to walk back to Albrook bus station, completely unaware that our route would take us through the unsafe ghetto! I became very nervous as Steve led the way, reluctantly following him as I stuffed dollar notes down my bra and voiced my concern about the route googlemaps was taking us. When we found ourselves in the middle of a rundown housing area with rubble in the road and apartments with broken windows, boarded up doors and men with bandanas spilling onto the street, calling after us, I was terrified! We reached the end of the street, thinking it would be a main road but it was another frightening looking area and Steve was blindly following the directions Siri was confidently giving, to take us down a road with a bend under a bridge. I stopped and refused to continue, just as I heard a voice behind me yelling, “Hey!” I turned around and two heavily armed policemen with bullet proof vests, helmets and large guns in their hands called us back. We had no idea where they came from but had obviously seen two naïve gringos wandering in a place they shouldn’t, telling us we were in great danger and needed to leave! With our Spanish and their English being very limited, we were told to wait by the side of the road. A taxi came into view and, unsure whether we were under arrest or not, we hailed it and jumped in before the police could translate any more instructions and left two bewildered policemen on the side of the road! Lesson learned – trust your instincts – Steve obviously doesn’t have any!

While waiting for our packages to arrive we serviced and worked on a number of items on board. The autohelm was working well but had not been serviced for two years, so we removed it, checked and cleaned it and re-installed, only to find it no longer worked! With the watermaker now fixed, it was the next priority item and Steve soon discovered some loose connections and resolved that issue too! He was on a roll – could he make it a tri-factor and repair the generator which had last worked at Christmas? No! Sadly that was going to take a bit more skill than we had and, even calling in help from our canal French buddy boat who happened to be a diesel mechanic, proved successful in getting the engine working but unsuccessful in generating power – and before anyone suggests it, we did check the capacitor!

Our friends who were on ARC Pacific (a rally of about 40 boats), arrived in Shelter Bay and Steve offered his services as a linehandler through the canal for our friends on Escapade of London. I welcomed the boats as they arrived in La Playita marina, enjoying catching up with our friends on Escapade, Walkabout and Casamara. We all went out for a lovely meal together, having last been together in Grenada nine months ago.

There was a weather window forming and, as there had been no wind between Panama and The Galapagos for a couple of weeks, we were determined to join the flotilla of boats leaving to cross the Pacific. We collected our packages, said our farewells, did the last of our provisioning, filled up with fuel, cleared out with immigration and customs, and headed to Toboga for our last night in Panama.

The next morning we motored around to a lovely protected anchorage on the south side of the island and Steve spent a couple of hours scrubbing the bottom of the boat in the clear water while I prepared food for the crossing and stowed everything away.

At 1330 on Thursday 23 March 2023, we pulled up the anchor and set our sails, heading southwest as we bade farewell to land and civilization for the next 30+ days.

Panama Canal – Transit to the Pacific

Panama declared independence from Colombia in 1903, helped by the US, which led to a speedy and clandestine treaty with America to start building the Canal. A large tract of land on either side of the proposed canal was handed to the US, an agreement that happened without consulting the population of Panama. Over the next 10 years more than 75,000 people worked on building the canal costing almost $400 million. At the time of construction, the dam that flooded Rio Chagres to form Gatun Lake was the largest earthworks dam ever built, forming the largest man-made lake in the world.

We were excited about the next part of our journey, taking us from the Atlantic to Pacific Ocean and all that lay in our way was the passage from Bocas to Shelter Bay Marina, and the start of the administration booking process to secure a date to transit. We were expecting 20knots of wind on the beam and messy seas with 2-3m waves. Once we left the protection of the islands, the sea started to build and current was sweeping us along at a fast pace as we set Hilda, the hydrovane and prepared for a fast sail east. Suddenly a large bang shook the boat and our heartbeat sprang to life as quickly as we jumped up to try to work out what had happened. A bolt had sheered off the bottom of the hydrovane so the rudder was starting to separate from the boat. We hove too, stopping the boat and Steve climbed over the side to remove the heavy hydrovane rudder as we bounced in the confused sea. Now underway again, we decided to hand steer to save our batteries, instead of turning on the autopilot.

We continued at a fast pace all night, arriving at the buoyed channel in front of the seawall as the sun came up. We wove our way through the numerous anchored tankers, waiting their turn to pass through the canal, received permission to enter the port, pulled down the mainsail and proceeded under jib only through the channel as the wind blew at over 30knots and waves crashed high on the seawall either side of us. We called Shelter Bay Marina on the radio and received very precise information on how to negotiate the entrance, our allocated berth and instructions on how we should proceed and prepare. We were impressed, as we had never had such efficient, precise and clear instructions from a marina before! As we pulled into our berth we were welcomed by several old friends – more people than will probably be there to catch our lines when we arrive in NZ! Our friends on Zelda had rescued TT, who we had left in The San Blas on Christmas Day by accident, and we were happily reunited on arrival in Shelter Bay Marina. It felt great to see so many familiar faces and join a family of friends who could provide us with all the information we needed to prepare for our bureaucratic journey as we start the booking process to transit.

When transiting the canal it is possible to complete all the necessary paperwork and fees without an agent, saving up to $500, but as we had joined the Pacific Posse (group of boats sailing across the Pacific this season), we were able to get a good discount on an agent, so had already been in contact with one. Before a transit date can be confirmed, the boat needs to be officially measured to make sure we do not exceed 60ft in length – a hard task for a 43ft boat! We eventually got a date to be measured, four days after we had arrived, and spent about an hour with the measurer, answering numerous questions before being issued with our unique identification number (SIN). We were later visited by the agent who we repeated our desire to have a transit date of 19 February, as a friend was arriving from NZ on 18^th. As our desired date was 10 days away, and other boats were waiting only seven days for their transit, he did not see this as a problem but would confirm in the morning.

We had arranged to join our friends on Avanti to help them as line handlers on their transit through the canal and they had been allocated a spot leaving at 3am. Next morning we left the marina at 2.30am, meeting an advisor who jumped on board from an expertly captained pilot boat as we rocked in the heavy seas. We rafted up alongside a small catamaran and together we proceeded through the six locks, separating as we motored 20NM through Gatan Lake.

Along the way we contacted our agent to ask for confirmation of our transit date…… We were told we had been confirmed for 23 February, and I immediately responded saying this was not acceptable, particularly as other friends who had arrived after us, had been allocated dates well ahead of 23^rd! It then transpired that our measurements papers had been put into the tray of the person allocating dates, upside down, so had been missed…….! Happily, after numerous messages and phone calls, we were eventually allocated 19 February but it did cause a few unhappy hours as we tried to come up with solutions!

We left Avanti anchored in the Pacific after spending a night with them in their lovely boat, catching the bus back to Colon in time for the free bus back to Shelter Bay Marina. While we waited on deliveries and continued to prepare the boat for our Pacific crossing, I helped other friends on Zelda transit this time staying overnight in Gatan Lake, moored to a large cushioned buoy in the north of the lake.

Our date was fast approaching. We had provisioned, filling our cupboards with non-perishables as we stocked up on everything we would need to cross the Pacific and back to NZ. I felt like we were a mini grocery store as we had so much food stored in every nook and cranny just needing to top up and buy fresh fruit and vegetables before leaving on our passage. The big topic of discussion around the boats preparing to transit through the canal was the food menu for the advisor! In addition to having four linehandlers, all boats need to have an advisor on board when transiting the canal and we were instructed to make sure they were well fed with hot food and cold drinks. We heard rumours of a boat which offered substandard food to the advisor, who responded by calling for a takeaway. The food wasn’t expensive but delivering it to the yacht in the canal was another matter and the yacht was presented with a bill for $400!

The day before we were due to go through the canal, our good friend Kim arrived from NZ and we met her, along with our sailing friends from Altimate, Norbet and Sabine, in Colon – our crew for the transit was complete. The agent came, relieved us of our $2500 fee and delivered lines and fenders for the next day. We had been notified our transit would take place over two days with an overnight stay in Gatan Lake, meeting our advisor in the anchorage area close to the entrance to the marina. We said our goodbyes to the many people we had met and spent time with during our two weeks in the marina, reversed out of our berth and started our transit to the Pacific.

Our crossing was a wonderful experience. We saw crocodiles on the banks of the canal, enjoyed great company, ate well and celebrated our safe arrival in the Pacific – a major milestone in our journey home. We dropped the hook in Las Brisas anchorage with a backdrop of Panama city’s impressive skyline and farewelled Norbet and Sabine. Kim was with us and we were going to make the most of her visit, wanting to explore and discover new places together and give her a taste of our life afloat…..

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.

Christmas in Paradise

Panama is expectantly beautiful – from the people, tropical islands, jungle, rivers and incredible experiences, made all the more special to be able to share with good friends.

We continued a slow passage westward, calling in on small settlements and exploring rivers and islands as we continued up the chain of islands and bays towards civilisation. Men in dugout canoes, occasionally with sails up, would cheerfully wave at us as they made their way to their coconut plot or garden they had created in the forest.

We loved the silence and magical experience of being on our own in a small bay, surrounded by trees and with the incredibly thick virgin rainforest of Guna Yala as a backdrop, amazingly some of it never visited by humans. We explored rivers and lagoons, snorkelling over beautiful coral in clear waters with no-one else within sight. We watched dolphins feed close to the boat and tried to communicate with men who came over in dugout canoes as they tried to sell us Molas, fish or lobster. We donated suncream to a couple of albinos – a man and young girl, who must really struggle under the fierce sun, their skin covered in scabs as they tried to shield their sensitive eyes from the strong morning sun.

We bought a few Mola and I sewed them into cushions, enjoying the smell of smoke from a fire that seeped from the beautiful needlework as I imagined the women carefully sewing the colourful designs by hand in tiny, neat stitches.

We sailed on, intending to call in at one last Guna village before hitting the more crowded and visited Western San Blas islands, but the wind was so perfect and we were enjoying a great sail, we decided to keep going and make the most of the conditions. Sure enough, no sooner had we made the decision, when a number of boats started showing on AIS – the days of having an anchorage to ourselves in San Blas were now behind us – and we wove our way through reefs and shallows into a sheltered anchorage with ten boats, including Zen Again, already enjoying the clear turquoise waters that lay between several palm tree lined islands in the Holandes Cays.

We approached the small island of Banedup in our dinghy, following a channel marked by sticks poking up from the shallow coral and landing on a sandy beach in clear water. We were met by Ivin who owns a small restaurant on the island. He, his brother and sister live in small huts and grow coconuts, bananas and papaya which they sell to visiting cruisers. They also make delicious coconut bread rolls, delivered fresh to the boat each morning with Ivin paddleboarding out to us in the strong current, greeting us with a smile that was as warm and delicious as the bread rolls.

We decided to treat ourselves to a meal one night and, together with Zen Again, headed to the beach as the sun was going down. We had one of those magical evenings, eating a lobster dinner under a thatched shelter on the sandy beach with a warm breeze cooling us down and the sound of crashing surf hitting the reef a few meters from where we sat.

On board we have two fridges – one is small and used as a fridge with a very small freezer compartment that makes excellent ice cubes for our sundowners. The other is a large ice box that can be either a freezer or fridge. We refer to it as the chiller, as we keep it stocked with beer, tonic, wine, fruit and vegetables in the cavernous depths of the unit. A few weeks earlier it had stopped working so we re-organised the fridge, removed some of the alcohol, and loaded it up with all the vegetables until it was bursting, making finding things we needed a real task, particularly at sea when the complete content of the fridge was in danger of being deposited on the galley bench beneath it! We deduced that the reason the chiller had stopped working was because it was out of refrigerant gas which meant there was a leak somewhere in the system. I put out a call for help and had three fellow cruisers approach us to see if they could resolve the problem. One was in the next bay so we upped anchor, wove our way through a very narrow channel and settled ourselves in the sheltered bay next to the boat that had answered my call for help. Once we’d dropped the anchor, Steve dived in to make sure the anchor was set correctly and upon returning announced there was a huge shark beside our boat just lying on the bottom of the sea. Feeling very nervous about swimming around such a large creature, we both jumped into the dinghy and, with snorkels on, dangled over the side to see if we find it again. Sure enough, there was a 2m nurse shark right beside our boat in about 4m of water, just casually minding its own business while we looked down on it with wide eyes and bums in the air from the safety of our dinghy!!!

Mike was from South Africa and had been cruising since 1999 with his wife, Laura. He is typical of so many in the cruising community where he was keen to help other people with less skills than him and quickly discovered what was wrong with our chiller. It turned out to be a lose wire as well as needing a gas refill and very soon the plates were getting cold and the beer was being placed back in the chiller! We just love being part of this amazing group of people and really hope that one day we will be able to rescue someone like we have been helped so many times.

Christmas was fast approaching and with it, the anchorages were filling up with boats wanting, like us, to enjoy the holiday period in a tropical paradise. Our friends on Ruffian arrived and we had a wonderful time catching up on the happenings of the eight months since we were last together in Dominica while the number of boats in the anchorage and new friends expanded. We took numerous snorkelling adventures, enjoying being able to explore again with Iain and Fi as we quickly fell back into the ease of their company. We booked Christmas lunch with Ivin on Banedup Island, and 11 of us sat down under a thatched shelter on the beach to enjoy a lovely four course meal. This was followed by a number of challenges that Steve and I had set our friends, which culminated in a blind-folded dinghy race and celebratory drinks on board Cerulean. It was all great fun and made for a memorable day.

On Boxing Day we pulled up anchor with Ruffian and Zen Again to continue our journey west, enjoying a great sail in flat seas as we made good speed, arriving in Chichime – a protected anchorage with a narrow entrance between two reefs infront of two small coconut tree lined islands. We snorkelled in the strong current before having a final sundowner on board Cerulean with Mike and Nicki from Zen Again. The next day we were sailing to different destinations, marking the end of our three months journey together. We first met in Gosport, UK in June 2020 when we had 5NM of water under the keel and we had now visited 11 countries together with 10,000NM sailed on Cerulean! We will see them again in a few years in New Zealand and hope to sail with them around our familiar home waters.

We continued our journey SW with Ruffian, and anchored in front of the small town of Portobello, only a few miles east of the entrance to the Panama Canal. The town had been a significant port in the 1590’s due to its protected harbour and became one of the most important sites for the transportation of gold and silver from South and Central America to Spain. For over 150 years fleets of galleons were sent to Portobello to collect their valuable cargo, so the town was heavily protected with three forts and large batteries of canons in each. The protected harbour was now scattered with deserted yachts, washed into the muddy shallows and left to decay as the forgotten boats slowly fell apart. The small town was almost deserted when we wandered through the narrow, potholed streets against a thick forest backdrop. There is a large white church that houses a famous black Christ and worshippers walk on their knees from as far as Costa Rica to pay their respects. Repurposed American school buses are elaborated decorated and now serve as public transport as they career down the rutted roads towards the large city of Colon less than 50kms away but a world away by comparison!

It was a lovely quiet anchorage with the sound of howler monkeys breaking the evening silence as their calls echoed around the harbour. Lots of birds flew around us from Pelicans, flying very low over the water, to a large flock of white Egrets and small swallows darting between our rigging and all around us.

We continued after a couple of days, motoring into the wind, through hundreds of tankers waiting to go through the Panama Canal. As we passed the channel marking the entrance into Shelter Bay and the beginning of the canal, it was a strange feeling to know we would be making that journey in a few week’s time. On we motored until the entrance to Rio Chagres came into view with breaking waves marking the narrow passage into the river and a large fort dominating the headland. We led the way over the shallow sand bar as rolling waves pushed us up the river. I must admit to having white knuckles as we meandered our way through the entrance, and was relieved when the depth started increasing again – not somewhere to enter in strong winds or rolling seas. We motored up the glassy river with thick jungle bordering the banks hiding the many crocodiles that inhabit the area. Howler monkeys called out and birds screeched, swooped and mesmorised us until we found a peaceful place to drop the anchor, out of sight of any manmade structures but within a few miles of one of the busiest shipping passages in the world.

The Chagres River was dammed in 1910 to create the Gatun Lake which supplies the water for the locks of the canal, so we took our dinghies up the river about 5 miles to have a look at the dam and get our first sight of the canal. One problem faced us on arrival….. Steve and I had forgotten to bring shoes! We walked in our barefeet for a few miles on hot tarmac, prickly grass and stony pathways but it was worth it to get a feel for what lay ahead of us in a few week’s time. We watched two large tankers making its slow passage through a lock into the Gatun Lake where a cruise ship was waiting for their turn to pass through on the other side.

On the walk back to the dinghies we spotted a group of Howler Monkeys in the trees close to our path. We watched as the family quietly fed on leaves, allowing their young to forage and swing through the branches before gathering them up and ensuring they did not stray too far from the group.

We remained anchored up the river for a couple of days, enjoying the tranquillity, birdlife and feeling of isolation, even though the occasional hoot of a large ship reminded us that the canal was not far away. At night we shone bright torches into the mangroves to see the red eyes of crocodiles reflected back at us. Sadly we could only spend two nights in this wonderful place as we needed to continue west so, with Ruffian following us, we motored back out of the narrow entrance for a long motorsail to Bocas del Toro where we would be leaving the boats for a couple of weeks so we could adventure inland with Ruffian.

CREDIT: Huge thanks to Ruffian for the amazing pictures – all the drone footage and the best of the rest, labelled in pictures!

San Blas – Where time forgot

Our return to Santa Marta from our trip to the Amazon, marked the beginning of the end of our month in Colombia. We were now on weather watch, waiting for a good window for the 2.5 day passage to Panama and it didn’t look like we would have to wait too long.

We needed to stock up on provisions as we knew it would be a number of weeks before we were going to be anywhere near shops, as we were heading to some very remote places with no roads, airplanes or ports close by. We made several trips to the supermarket and stocked up on all the essentials and then went back for more to fill any spare cupboards or storage spaces! We bought fruit and vegetables which would last at least a week as these would become luxury items in the weeks to come!

A few boats we knew arrived in Santa Marta just as we were preparing to go, so we spent our final couple of evenings socialising before checking out of Colombia on one of the last days of November 2022. We had waved goodbye to Zen Again earlier that day as, being a little smaller and slower in the forecast conditions than us, they felt they wanted to leave by mid-day to ensure they arrived in Panama by Friday morning. We decided to wait until 10pm to leave and slipped out with our fuel tanks filled to the brim with the cheapest fuel we’ll get, probably ever again!

The wind was steady and we made excellent speed, breaking our best 24hr distance covered record by making 161NM. In fact we were going too fast and decided to try to slow down. We calculated we would not be able to reach landfall before sunset on Thursday and did not want to arrive in Puerto Obaldi at night time as we had heard the anchorage was quite rolly and uncomfortable. Our decision to go to Puerto Obaldi was made due to the cheaper check-in options plus starting our exploration of the San Blas region of Panama from here, right on the border with Colombia, meant we had access to some of the most remote Guna Indian villages which was a real drawcard for us.

Zen Again managed to arrive just as the light was fading on Thursday evening, but we were a few miles behind and decided to stand off the coast and heave-to for seven hours as we waited for daylight before heading into the exposed harbour. (Heaving-to is a method of stopping the boat while having sails up to keep the boat in a comfortable, balanced position). As it turned out, I’m glad we made this decision as we both managed to get a solid three hours of good sleep before we re-set the sails and headed into the harbour just as Avanti, another boat who left Santa Marta after us, arrived.

Checking-in was a long, hot procedure and involved a visit to the police in a concrete bunker looking building with no windows or doors but a desk under a hole in the wall, where they inspected our passports. Next, we needed to visit the immigration office where a queue had started outside the closed door. Every so often someone would come out of the office, look at the line of people and go back in, shutting the door behind them. We had just gotten to the front of the queue when, after about a wait of 45 minutes in the hot sun, the immigration officer appeared and apologised profusely for the delay, but now he had to go to the airport and would be back in 30 minutes. I think he could tell we were crest-fallen, because 10 minutes later he was back and said he would process us quickly, which he did! From there we went to the Port Captain to get a cruising permit. He had no computer or typewriter and carefully completed about seven forms in neat handwriting, all designed for a dot matrix printer with perforated strips down the side of the carboned paper and all asking for the same information. Quite what happened to the forms or the copies after we left, I have no idea! After paying US$200 for a one year cruising permit for the whole of Panama – Caribbean and Pacific coasts – we were told to go to the copyshop as we needed to give the police a copy of our permit. Back at the copyshop we were then charged US$10 for anchoring in the bay while we checked in! Armed with all our papers we returned to the police and gave them copies of everything which they carefully examined, added our names to a large, thick notebook, smiled and told us we were free to go! And go we did. As soon as we were back on the boat, we sailed out of the bay to find a more protected anchorage so we could enjoy a good night’s sleep!

Panama is a beautiful country which many cruisers skip through on their way to the canal. This is a huge mistake as there are hundreds of unspoilt bays and villages untouched by time that are begging to be explored. Using the only accurate charts made of this area from a cruising guide we exchanged for guides we no longer required when in Grenada, we headed up the coast following the hillsides covered in virgin rainforest. We anchored near the end of an inlet at Puerto Escoses close to a group of huts that had been built over the water just off the sandy beach. All the huts were empty, but some were still being built and we could see dug out canoes close by so assumed the huts were still being used but just not when we were there! It was deliciously peaceful with only the sounds of the forest to disturb the peace as we headed to bed and slept for nine solid hours!

The Guna people are indigenous to Panama. They are fiercely protective of their culture and have tried to prevent western influence in their lives. They live in small communities which often don’t mix with other Guna communities, and the women wear colourful clothing with intricately embroidered designs on the front and back, called Molas. They live very simple lives – the men fish in small wooden dug out canoes or tend their coconut plantations, the women look after the family and prepare the meals. They have large families and, as we witnessed, due to the desire to keep the village tribes “pure” there appeared to be a lot of close family couplings, as we saw a number of birth defects in the young. The houses are very simple, often one storied with a thatched roof and built on land very close to the sea. Extended families live together so houses are made larger as the family grows or daughters marry – daughters remain in the houses of their parents and new husbands move into their family home. Walking though the villages made me feel like we were in a place that time forgot. Fortunately the Panama government has not quite forgotten them and a few years ago paid for solar panels to be installed in most Guna communities. This has made a huge difference to the villages who are very proud of the energy these panels produce.

Each village has a Congress House and villages (men and women) must attend meetings there every day. This is the place to sort out problems, concerns, plans or celebrations in the village. The chief or Sahila, will oversee proceedings from a hammock in the centre of the large thatched building. The meetings can be long and tedious as they cover every day matters and issues from disagreements to travel passes, so members of the community are employed to let out loud shrieks at regular intervals, or prod people with long sticks to ensure everyone stays awake and alert!

The previous night we had heard several bangs that sounded like gunshots and cheering from the beach near our boat. It transpired that a large cat (we were told a Jaguar) had swam across to the island, passing our boat and making its way to the beach, when it was shot and killed – not to protect humans but to protect their farm animals. I was very sad to see pictures of the beautiful animal the next day and relieved to learn it was a very rare happening.

It surprised us that we saw no chickens in the villages – a common sight in Colombia and everywhere else we have visited. Pigs often seen in small bamboo huts on stilts above the water. This is for two reasons – the first to keep them clean as their droppings fall straight into the water, but the second is to avoid crocodiles taking them. This is also the reason there are no chickens as they will encourage crocodiles into the village.

We motor sailed a short distance to the settlement of Ustupu, the largest village in San Blas. We spent a happy few hours getting lost in the labyrinth of small streets and passages that wind between the thatched houses, enjoying walking without fear of a vehicle speeding down the road, with the only engine noises being generators to service the many restaurants in the village! A woman appeared at an open window and beckoned us inside the small square building. She was sewing beautiful Molas on an antique Singer sewing machine and had several on display. I couldn’t resist and bought a brightly coloured one from her for $10, which I will treasure. As we continued through a small, dusty square, a man and his son called us over and they proceeded to play a beautiful tune on their roughly made blow pipes, telling us there would be dancing in the square later. We walked on to the northern coastline where waves break on sharp rocks that were covered in litter. I tried to explain to the young boys who were playing football close by and had come over to see who these strange white giants were, how seeing all that rubbish made me sad, but they looked at me as if I had just confirmed I really was from another planet!

As the only boat anchored in the shallow dirty bay, we became a local attraction as men and young boys slowly paddled past us, shouting their greetings and waving as they grinned at us with friendly curiosity. We purchased a few lobsters from a man who approached us in his dugout canoe, clinging onto the side of Cerulean as he showed us his catch. One of them tried to make a break for it and I was almost tempted to let it go back into the water, as they were all quite small, but the thought of fresh lobster for dinner prevented me from doing so! That night, under a full moon and clear skies, we ate like kings and listened to the merriment ashore.

We discovered it was Mother’s Day and, on taking the dinghy up a small river in the north of the bay, saw a large gathering on the bank, near a small coconut and banana plantation in a clearing in the jungle. The women enthusiastically waved us to come over and, as we scrambled up the steep muddy bank to join them, they thrust a bowl of food in our hands. The women were all dressed in red with beautiful Molas on the front and back of their robes, red beads around their legs, red headscarf and red rouge on their cheeks. They cooked in a huge pan over an open fire as the men and with children sat around watching them. Through google translate, we were able to communicate with the husband of one of the women cooking. I asked why the women were working on their special day and he answered, “They love to work. If they don’t, they die!” It then turned out we were actually in a graveyard, surrounded by their mothers and ancestors as we celebrated and remembered them. Youngs guys were renovating an old tomb, fixing fresh leaves onto the thatched roof. It was incredibly special to share that time with the happy group of different generations of brightly dressed women and we returned down the river, following a trail of red petals that were floating downstream in memory of all their mothers that had passed.

As we moved further west along the mainland Panama coast, we past a number of villages, all built perilously close to the pounding surf and often every square inch of the small island taken up with houses. Occasionally we saw evidence of where there was once land and now the sea was washing away a construction that had stood there – bridges to nowhere stood as memorials of days recently gone by and the remains of a dock now stood attached to nothing but the sea floor. As these scenes unfolded, I couldn’t help but ponder on the overwhelming sadness and irony of the situation – here were a peaceful race of people who have shunned Western influence and tradition, yet they are now at the sharp end of having to deal with the very real issue of rising sea levels while plastic washes ashore on their beaches, carried there by the strong currents from Colombia and further afield.