| WESTERN CARIBBEAN |
On to Panama (September 2008) - Our plan had always been to make our first landfall in Panama at Isla Pinos. However, we planned
to leave the coast of Colombia further southwest leaving from one of the offshore Colombian islands making the trip a mere 80 miles or so
(a short overnighter - leave at dusk to arrive at dawn). Leaving from Baru added another 60 miles to the trip making it roughly a 24 hour
jog. That would put us at Isla Pinos around eight o'clock the following morning.
We expected no wind. Can you say motor sail.
The weather during rainy season down here is really mild. Lots of light and variable wind days. We're over a hundred miles southwest of
the spot off Colombia that Chris Parker calls Wind-Maxima (12N, 75W). You really should take a look at the averages for that area.
We're talking 25-35 knot winds and 12 foot seas most of the time. Anyway, not here. The only potentially dangerous conditions are from
squalls (not convergence squalls, but convective squalls, i.e. thunderstorms). Sometimes you go days without rain, but you always see
lighting in the distance. We've never seen such displays. Even when we first neared the coast of Colombia in late May there were
lightning displays all night long. Very distant, but amazingly persistent. One after another, after another. We were in the middle of rainy
season so we expected rain (and lightning) sometime during our trip. We had yet to experience severe weather in one of these South
American squalls (so far nothing over about 30 knots for brief periods), but the lightning could be problematic.
During the morning we saw no wind over 5 or 6 knots. We had the main and staysail out to stabilize the boat in the small waves (nothing
more than 4 or 5 feet). It was really very comfortable. During the afternoon we actually got 10 knots or so on our beam. We sneaked out
the jib, turned off the engine and managed a respectable 6 knots for several hours. Then once again, no wind.
About 10 that night we saw on radar the first of what turned out to be many squalls. Of course, like all nights, there was the lightning show
all around, albeit in the distance. This one was only thirty miles or so away. But it covered a large area and was right where we wanted to
go. Then more of the buggers popped up. So. For the rest of the trip we played a very slow video game of figuring out which way the
things were moving and then changing course to miss them, sometimes going between the lightning storms less than 2 to 4 miles away. It
was a bit nerve racking, but we were in perfect control the entire time. One particularly large storm was moving very slowly towards Isla
Pinos. After hours of watching the thing we realized that we could just overtake it and get anchored before it hit. About dawn we had
passed it and could see the island in the distance in front of us and lighting in the storm behind us. We find the anchorage, get the anchor
down and about 30 minutes later the squall blew through with thirty knots or so and it rained for several hours. I don't know how one could
do this cruising thing without radar.
Isla Pinos (September 2008) - What a pretty island. What a pretty mainland (a couple of miles away). What cool nights. What a good
anchorage (protected, good holding, ten feet deep). What clear water. What seclusion (there's no one else here). What took us so long.
Isla Pinos is postcard perfect.
We could see the Kuna village in the distance. In the mornings we could see the Kunas leave to go fishing or to tend their crops in the
jungle on the mainland in their dugout canoes (ulus). Occasionally, one would come by and say, hola. The third morning a Kuna comes out
with a receipt for eight dollars (our fee for anchoring at their island). The guy's name is Horatio. He spoke enough English to
communicate fairly well. He said he taught himself by correspondence course from the States. We ask him if we can buy some fish or
lobsters from the fisherman. He says we have to ask the chief. The next day we go to the village to ask the chief. Horatio takes us to the
chief's home. The chief comes out of his thatch-roofed hut with no windows, no doors and no floor and chats with us a few minutes through
our interpreter, Horatio. We have truly taken a step back in time. I'm not going to waste your time going through a Kuna history lesson,
but these people have fought many times over many centuries for their land and way of life. Today, they are essentially a self-governed
people within Panama. Lucky for the few of us who travel here. This land is truly unspoiled.
On the way out of the village, Horatio asks if we have a camera. Our yes reply turned out to be an answer that resulted in much activity
during the next few days. His eyes lit up and began to explain in halting English that he wanted a passport and needed a picture. Horatio
was getting old and apparently the chief had given him permission to travel outside of Panama. Not sure where he could get enough money
for travel, but nevertheless, we made several trips back and forth to the village to get the pictures, get them onto the laptop, print the
pictures, then deliver them. In the process, we ended up taking passport pictures for three different Kunas. We also somehow agreed to
have picture day for kids. The Kuna moms would dress their little ones up and Leta would snap the pictures while they weren't crying, then
back to the boat for picture processing, then back to the village for delivery. We must have made ten trips.
On one of the trips Horatio gives Ellis what looked like a broken plunger from an old Coleman camp stove. He wanted him to try to fix it.
Turned out to be an easy fix if you had the right tools. The Kunas can't afford many tools. Apparently, the word spread and the next day a
Kuna paddles out to our boat with the butt of what must have been a 50 year old single shot shotgun. The stock was falling off which took a
long screw driver to fix. What respectable boat tool chest would not have a long screw driver? It took less than five minutes, most of
which was time digging out the screw driver. The Kuna was really, really happy and said that he was going to the mainland to shoot
wabbits. No telling how long the poor guy's gun was broken. Leta calls me Kuna Helper. Very funny.
Towards the end of the trips, Ellis realizes we are burning lots of gasoline and it could be a month or so before we get to Colon. He asks
Horatio if he can buy gasoline. It appeared to us that three or four Kunas in the village owned outboards. Someone had to have gasoline.
Well. It took about an hour for Ellis and two or three Kunas to dig around in a little shack with several barrels of stuff to find about a half
barrel of gasoline that was not mixed with oil (our outboard is four stroke). Ellis declared the gasoline to be clean enough and bought two
gallons. One of the Kunas stuck a hose in the barrel and sucked gasoline with his mouth to get the siphon going and stuck the other end of
the hose in our spare gasoline can. I told you we had stepped back in time.
After a few days of all this activity and visits to the village, the Kunas went out of their way to paddle or motor by and wave and say hello.
Oh. And after the chief said okay, the fishermen began to stop by and try to sell us some of their catch of the day. We ended up eating the
best lobster and fish we have had in quite some time. Cool stuff.
We also had another visitor a few days into our stay. We had seen plenty of alligators back in Texas and Louisiana and thought they were
big. Of course, we are now in the land of crocodiles. These guys are much, much bigger. One morning while drinking coffee in the
cockpit, a monster comes out from the island and slithers into the water exactly where we had taken Bogey every day to pee. Holy Toledo.
We'll have to remember to look for crocs. Bogey would make the perfect croc-sized snack.
Isla Pinos to Nargana - After a week or so we decided to move northwest along the coast of Panama. The weather was supposed to be
fairly settled for a few days and we needed high sun to go the 60 or 70 miles to our next goal of Nargana in the central San Blas Islands.
The area between Isla Pinos and Nargana is poorly charted and the datum used for the official charts of the area is wrong. That means our
chartplotter has the location of everything wrong. There are many, many coral heads and shoals that can only be seen with sun overhead,
especially since it was rainy season and the water was murky (still clear but not as clear as if it were dry season). Besides sun, it is
imperative to have The Panama Cruising Guide by Eric Bauhaus. The cruising guide has many chartlets and many waypoints that are
correct (well almost). Armed with the sun and Bauhaus' waypoints we should be able to maneuver safely around the trouble spots.
The first day, we wanted to anchor at Mono Island. It was very close to the route designed by Bauhaus to be free of coral heads. We left
at ten to arrive at the anchorage around two (high sun the entire trip). We get to the island as scheduled and leave the route and motor
very slowly towards the island. Leta is on the bow. All of a sudden the depth goes from 50 feet to nine about the same time as Leta yells
(we have head phones - I may be deaf in one ear now) to go left. We never see less than nine, but had we gone right we could have run
aground and possibly poked a hole in the hull. The coral heads were now clearly visible, we just don't know how shallow they were. Those
heads were not charted, even on Bauhaus' charts. The next day, we hear on the Panama SSB net about a guy south of Isla Pinos that has
hit a rock and has a six foot crack in his hull two feet below the waterline. His bilge pump is keeping up with the water and he has put his
boat in five feet of water so he can't sink very far. Help out here is days, maybe weeks away. If the conditions are not perfect and you
can't see well enough through the water, you stay anchored in this part of the world. And then, you take it slow with someone perched high
at the bow.
After the mishap, we made it into the anchorage which was a perfectly protected mangrove lagoon with plenty of swinging room in 25 feet
of water. There are no other boats. We haven't seen one in days. This is our kind of cruising ground.
The waypoints along the route that Bauhaus charted proved to be right on. The next day we made it though a particularly hazardous area
by zig zagging for hours. We saw plenty of shoals, but the waypoints lead us perfectly around them, none too close for comfort. About two,
we dropped anchor in 35 feet of water very close to a Kuna village on the island of Niadup in the Devil Cays just about the same time as
the sun disappears and a rain storm gets us. As soon as the rain stops a Kuna guy promptly comes out and charges us five bucks for
anchoring there. This village was a slum compared to the village on Isla Pinos, but still no boats.
The next day we leave around ten again for the two hours or so to Nargana. The anchorage is very protected and is large enough to
accommodate quite a few boats (of course there are not many boats out here). Nargana is a relatively large village that has given up the
traditional Kuna ways. As a result, there is a generator running 24/7 that powers the entire community, there are a couple of stores with
basic food supplies and a couple of bars and the chief has no real power.
We wanted to stop in Nargana for several reasons. The first is that the next 25 to 30 miles are full of islands that dreams are made of; all
within an hour or two from each other. The second is that we needed diesel and a few food items. There is also an airstrip on the island
with service to Panama City in case we need it for some reason. We plan to be around the area for several months.
A Kuna by the name of Frederico comes out and introduces himself as soon as we get anchored. He said he could get anything we needed.
When I asked about diesel, he said no problem. He would have 40 gallons by that afternoon. In the meantime he wanted to show us the
village. So we get in the dinghy and he meets us at the dinghy dock. Some of the village was clean, some was not. There were four food
stores, only one of which we would buy anything from; the others were too dirty. The cleanest one (it was still pretty dirty) had a basic item
or two and Leta bought a head of cabbage. So much for food items we needed.
We also didn't get any diesel that afternoon. However, early the next morning we got twenty gallons (he couldn't get 40) of relatively clean
diesel. Well, it wasn't very clean but the Baja filter took care of it.
The sun was shining so we left around ten.
The San Blas Islands (September 2008 - October 2008) - The San Blas Islands begin at the Colombian border in the east and end in
the west at Punta San Blas, approximately 120 nautical miles. Isla Pinos and every island we have visited since has been in the San Blas
Islands. Most people consider the San Blas Islands to begin at Nargana on the eastern side and end at Porvenir on the western side.
These islands are further from the mainland and as a result the water is clearer and most are covered in tall palm trees surrounded by
white sand beaches. So we'll stay with convention in our captions.
An hour or so from Nargana was Green Island. The island has no inhabitants and is covered in palm trees surrounded by sand. It's also
surrounded by shoals and coral. We anchored in perfect protection amidst the reefs. We were still fairly close to the mainland so the
water was not perfectly clear, but plenty clear to see the bottom when it was necessary to do so. There were no boats. We had the
anchorage all to ourselves and stayed several days.
After a few days at Green Island we decided to go north a couple of miles to Coco Bandero Cays. Like Green Island, Coco Bandero is
surrounded by reefs and the islands are picture perfect. The only thing we didn't like about Coco Bandero was that the best anchoring spot
was about 45 feet deep. Since we carry 250 feet of chain on our primary anchor, our scope was about five to one. That's perfectly fine with
a big heavy anchor (Big Dog weighs 75 pounds), unless of course you catch a nasty squall with 50 knots or so of wind. In that case, I would
feel much more comfortable with seven to one, especially if the wind comes from a direction opposite from that which you set the anchor.
Oh, one other thing we didn't like about Coco Bandero was the backpacker boats. The San Blas Islands, Cartagena and Isla Linton (west
of the San Blas, close to Colon) are apparently backpaker destinations. Backpackers make their way to Isla Linton and are picked up by
boats that go to the San Blas and on to Cartagena and back. These trips usually last a couple of weeks all for a sum of less than $500.
The boats all have seen better days and are crammed with as many backpackers as will pay the fee. The backpackers as you might expect
are very young and are seeing the world before they go to college or to work. I guess it's a pretty good thing for the kids. Anyway, three
or four of these boats stop at Coco Bandero for a couple days each going to and coming back from Cartagena. The captains have their
favorite anchoring spots and will drop the hook regardless of whether you are there first or not. It just ruins the moment and what could be
a perfect anchorage (well, except maybe for the depth).
We left three days later to check out the Swimming Pool anchorage in the Holandes Cays. The anchorage is another one surrounded by
islands and reefs. The water is perfectly clear (even in rainy season) and is only 10 to 15 feet deep with good holding in white sand. The
closest island is called Barbecue Island in honor of all the cruisers who go ashore and, well, barbecue. The island is really nice and Bogey
had his way with it - I mean every tree, every bush, every piece of driftwood. He loved it. Unfortunately, this is one of the most popular
anchorages in the San Blas and during the season it's reportedly very crowded. There were only a couple of other boats now. As I said
above, we wanted to check out the anchorage, but the main reason to visit the anchorage was to meet one of the backpacker boats. A guy
named Mark has a mooring there (the only one) and stops every couple of weeks. When not transporting backpackers, he lives there. He
will buy anything you want when he stops in Colon every couple of weeks (actually Isla Linton then he drives to Colon) and will sell it to
you with a 30 percent mark up when he gets to the Swimming Pool. Well. We needed diesel and propane. A few days earlier, Todd and
Lynn on Blue Marine told us about old Mark. We then emailed him and when he showed up in the Swimming Pool he had 24 gallons of
diesel and propane for us. We will keep in touch with Mark while in the San Blas. He could extend our time away from civilization
considerably. By the way. Mark does not anchor on top of you in Coco Bandero. He's perfectly happy with his mooring at the Swimming
Pool.
After our business with Mark, we went back to Coco Bandero planning to stay up to a week. It's just so pretty. We had the place to
ourselves for a couple of days.
As reported previously, the water quality of our watermaker had deteriorated significantly. During the last month we had talked to Spectra
several times and had run a few tests to rule out several possible problems. We had concluded that our membrane was the culprit. The
last resort is to clean the thing with chemicals. There is a slight chance that a cleaning will work, but if it doesn't, we'll kill the membrane
completely. Since we needed to be in Colon anyway the first of November, we decided to arrive in mid-October so we could deal with the
watermaker issues. We wanted to be in a marina with access to water, in case the watermaker died after nuking it.
It was the first week in October, so we began paying particular attention to the forecasts between San Blas and Colon. The forecast was
calling for a low pressure system to form during the second week of October bringing with it more and more severe squalls. We decided to
beat the possible low and go a week earlier than planned to Shelter Bay Marina in Colon.
The next day we moved back to the Swimming Pool. The day after that we passed by the anchorages in the East Lemmon Cays on our way
to Chichime, our last anchorage in the San Blas Islands. There are many shoals around the East Lemmons (the depth goes from one
hundred feet to one in less than a boat length) so we had to pay attention. We traversed the area in high sun, so the shoals were easy to
see and we got through unscathed. We built a track with our chartplotter so we could get back through at a later time even if the sun was
not quite right. Of course we have built lots of tracks since Isla Pinos. As we approached Chichime, we built another track through two
shoals at the entrance since our plan was to leave just as the sun was coming up the following day.
The anchorage at Chichime was one of the prettiest in the San Blas, but it's deep like a lot of the anchorages here (45 feet). As we were
circling around the anchorage to make sure we had plenty of swinging room, three Kuna dugouts came out and followed us around until we
had dropped anchor. Two were selling molas and one guy, with his son, had the biggest red fish we had ever seen (must have weighed a
hundred pounds). Leta informs the Kuna women that we would not be buying molas today. One of them almost cried (she's really got that
act down). We also tell the fish guy that the fish was way too big for us. Later an old guy comes out asking for water. Before Chichime we
had not been bothered by the Kunas. They were pests here. We'll come back to Chichime because it's the logical coming and going
anchorage between San Blas and Colon. But next time, we'll at least know what to expect from the Kunas.
To Colon (October 2008) - Next morning, we were anchor up about thirty minutes before the sun was up, just enough light to see the
entrance. With a little light and our track we built the day before, it was easy to get past the shoals. Our plan was to travel a little over 50
miles and anchor at Portabello, only 20 miles from Colon, arriving around three that afternoon.
Well. As usual, things don't always go as planned. The light and variable wind turned out to be from due west (the direction we were going
- nothing new about that) between 12 and 16 knots. That wasn't so bad, but around one o'clock a big ugly rain storm kept getting closer
and closer. Also, the anchorage at Portabello was wide open to the west. Heck. We could get four footers in the anchorage. Not our idea
of fun. So we stopped early at Isla Linton which was much more protected. We get anchored (another 45 feet) just before the rain storm
got there. Not much wind but it rained all night. Isla Linton was very pretty, but the number of boats anchored there surprised us. As
discussed previously, it's also where backpackers congregate to pick up their boat rides. Oh. And we heard lots of Howler monkeys. Leta
says they sound like something out of Jurassic Park. The waves from the west did find their way into the anchorage, but only a half foot or
so. Just enough to make us roll all night since by then there was no wind to keep us pointed into the waves. Not much sleep that night.
The next morning we were moving again right before the sun came up. We had less than 30 miles to cover but we wanted to beat the ever
increasing afternoon thunderstorms. We arrived at the marina about eleven, just as heavy rain started. Leta got the worst of it since she
was on deck handling the lines while I was driving under the bimini. The rain popped up so fast she did not have time to get any foul
weather gear. She was soaked down to her underwear. The rain lasted a couple of hours.
First impressions of Shelter Bay Marina are good. Very well maintained concrete floating docks and very secure. It will be the perfect
place to leave Leta, the dog and the boat while Ellis goes to Dallas the first week in November. It will also b e a good place to sort out our
mechanical issues.
Colon (October 2008) - After three weeks at Shelter Bay Marina we have a few things to report.
The marina is probably the nicest marina we have stayed in since Nanny Cay Marina in the British Virgin Islands. The floating docks are
as good as any we have ever seen. Shelter Bay Marina is located at the inside base of the north breakwater that protects Limon Bay,
essentially the beginning of the Panama Canal on the Atlantic side. Not only is it behind the breakwater, but it has its own little cove with
approach depths at over twenty feet and depths at the slips about the same. So. The marina is very protected and easy to get into and out
of. The facilities are good. There is a large pool, a reasonably sized laundry and a reasonably good restaurant. The haul out facility is
good with a 40 ton lift. The boat yard is large and is very busy. The staff know what they are doing when they haul your boat and do basic
stuff like bottom paint. You can get a local mechanic but other things are tougher to come by, since Panama City is where most of the boat
work talent is concentrated (at least a two hour drive away).
The marina is also located on the grounds of an old abandoned US army base - Fort Sherman (at one time home of the US Army Jungle
Warfare School). There is still an armed entrance gate. There are occasional Panamanian forces training exercises on the grounds, but
not much of anything else. Most of the buildings are now uninhabitable. It's also in the middle of a jungle at least 20 miles from the city of
Colon. To get to Colon, you have to cross the Panama Canal and sometimes have to wait close to an hour for ships to get into the first lock
and the lift bridge to close. It's great for security, but it's not easy to get into town. The marina does have a bus running to town twice
daily, but you have to take a taxi to get anywhere other than the shopping center where the bus stops.
The old army base has abandoned roads all through the jungle that are a bit overgrown but still good enough to ride or walk through. Our
bikes found their way out of the dark nether regions of the starboard lazerette and we have been riding basically everyday. We are really
talking jungle here. During the first three weeks we have seen both Howler and Capuchin monkeys. The little critters are everywhere.
Leta even saw a Coati Mundi which looks like a cross between a racoon and an anteater but is part of the racoon family. Most people
never get to see jungle creatures up close except in a zoo, so the old Fort Sherman base truly makes for a unique experience.
Now for the negatives.
The city of Colon is dangerous. Everyone warns you not to go anywhere without a taxi or driver to take you directly to the door of your
destination and wait on you. A perfect example of how dangerous the city has become was our trip into Colon to visit Immigration a couple
of days after we arrived. The marina can take care of the Port Captain and Customs but you have to go to Immigration in person. You
also have to hire either an agent or a driver to take you there. We chose one of the drivers recommended by the marina and Teddy spoke
perfect English because he grew up in New Jersey. Anyway. When we get close to the office, Teddy tells us that we are in what the locals
call a red zone and he will take us right to the door. He then was to park the car and meet us in the office (to help translate). We spent a
few minutes in the office and found out that we had to go to across the street to have a couple of pictures taken for our documents and then
to a bank to buy a couple of five dollar stamps. Teddy takes us across the street and while we are doing our business a couple of bicycle
cops talk to Teddy about protection. Yep. Protection. So the cops watch us and the car for a while and we pay them five bucks for the
protection (the escort from the picture place to the car). We then go to the bank and back to the office where the Immigration official also
wants five bucks to process our documents. We hand the "tip" right through the little window. Even the Dominican Republic tried to
make it look official. No one seemed to care in Colon. It also didn't take us too long to realize that part of Teddy's job was to keep us safe
and to lead us through the payola game. We're happy to report that he looks like Mr. T.
Even though the marina has some of the best facilities we have seen, the marina staff has a go &*%$#@ yourself attitude. It's like they
hate their jobs and are tired of catering to the rich (if they only knew) Americans. The attitude is pervasive and rivals that of the "you owe
me something" attitude in the eastern Caribbean islands.
The last negative to report is that Panama City is a two or three hour trip by car - one way. If you want really good stores, especially those
that carry marine parts, you have to go to Panama City. Hiring a driver for the day to take you where you need to go costs $150 to $180
round trip. Ouch.
All things considered we would stay at Shelter Bay again. That's good because Shelter Bay is the only game in town. The Panama City
Yacht Club is across the bay adjacent to Colon. If you set foot outside of the entrance gate you will be robbed at gun point - guaranteed.
The marina is also in disrepair because the land the marina occupies is owned by the Port Authority. The Port Authority has given the
marina notice that they will be taking over the space to make room for expanding the port. The marina has about six months left. The only
other option is to anchor in the Flats anchorage where small boats wait to transit the canal. Petty theft is a problem at the Flats and when
the marina is gone there will be absolutely no security at all.
More to Come
to leave the coast of Colombia further southwest leaving from one of the offshore Colombian islands making the trip a mere 80 miles or so
(a short overnighter - leave at dusk to arrive at dawn). Leaving from Baru added another 60 miles to the trip making it roughly a 24 hour
jog. That would put us at Isla Pinos around eight o'clock the following morning.
We expected no wind. Can you say motor sail.
The weather during rainy season down here is really mild. Lots of light and variable wind days. We're over a hundred miles southwest of
the spot off Colombia that Chris Parker calls Wind-Maxima (12N, 75W). You really should take a look at the averages for that area.
We're talking 25-35 knot winds and 12 foot seas most of the time. Anyway, not here. The only potentially dangerous conditions are from
squalls (not convergence squalls, but convective squalls, i.e. thunderstorms). Sometimes you go days without rain, but you always see
lighting in the distance. We've never seen such displays. Even when we first neared the coast of Colombia in late May there were
lightning displays all night long. Very distant, but amazingly persistent. One after another, after another. We were in the middle of rainy
season so we expected rain (and lightning) sometime during our trip. We had yet to experience severe weather in one of these South
American squalls (so far nothing over about 30 knots for brief periods), but the lightning could be problematic.
During the morning we saw no wind over 5 or 6 knots. We had the main and staysail out to stabilize the boat in the small waves (nothing
more than 4 or 5 feet). It was really very comfortable. During the afternoon we actually got 10 knots or so on our beam. We sneaked out
the jib, turned off the engine and managed a respectable 6 knots for several hours. Then once again, no wind.
About 10 that night we saw on radar the first of what turned out to be many squalls. Of course, like all nights, there was the lightning show
all around, albeit in the distance. This one was only thirty miles or so away. But it covered a large area and was right where we wanted to
go. Then more of the buggers popped up. So. For the rest of the trip we played a very slow video game of figuring out which way the
things were moving and then changing course to miss them, sometimes going between the lightning storms less than 2 to 4 miles away. It
was a bit nerve racking, but we were in perfect control the entire time. One particularly large storm was moving very slowly towards Isla
Pinos. After hours of watching the thing we realized that we could just overtake it and get anchored before it hit. About dawn we had
passed it and could see the island in the distance in front of us and lighting in the storm behind us. We find the anchorage, get the anchor
down and about 30 minutes later the squall blew through with thirty knots or so and it rained for several hours. I don't know how one could
do this cruising thing without radar.
Isla Pinos (September 2008) - What a pretty island. What a pretty mainland (a couple of miles away). What cool nights. What a good
anchorage (protected, good holding, ten feet deep). What clear water. What seclusion (there's no one else here). What took us so long.
Isla Pinos is postcard perfect.
We could see the Kuna village in the distance. In the mornings we could see the Kunas leave to go fishing or to tend their crops in the
jungle on the mainland in their dugout canoes (ulus). Occasionally, one would come by and say, hola. The third morning a Kuna comes out
with a receipt for eight dollars (our fee for anchoring at their island). The guy's name is Horatio. He spoke enough English to
communicate fairly well. He said he taught himself by correspondence course from the States. We ask him if we can buy some fish or
lobsters from the fisherman. He says we have to ask the chief. The next day we go to the village to ask the chief. Horatio takes us to the
chief's home. The chief comes out of his thatch-roofed hut with no windows, no doors and no floor and chats with us a few minutes through
our interpreter, Horatio. We have truly taken a step back in time. I'm not going to waste your time going through a Kuna history lesson,
but these people have fought many times over many centuries for their land and way of life. Today, they are essentially a self-governed
people within Panama. Lucky for the few of us who travel here. This land is truly unspoiled.
On the way out of the village, Horatio asks if we have a camera. Our yes reply turned out to be an answer that resulted in much activity
during the next few days. His eyes lit up and began to explain in halting English that he wanted a passport and needed a picture. Horatio
was getting old and apparently the chief had given him permission to travel outside of Panama. Not sure where he could get enough money
for travel, but nevertheless, we made several trips back and forth to the village to get the pictures, get them onto the laptop, print the
pictures, then deliver them. In the process, we ended up taking passport pictures for three different Kunas. We also somehow agreed to
have picture day for kids. The Kuna moms would dress their little ones up and Leta would snap the pictures while they weren't crying, then
back to the boat for picture processing, then back to the village for delivery. We must have made ten trips.
On one of the trips Horatio gives Ellis what looked like a broken plunger from an old Coleman camp stove. He wanted him to try to fix it.
Turned out to be an easy fix if you had the right tools. The Kunas can't afford many tools. Apparently, the word spread and the next day a
Kuna paddles out to our boat with the butt of what must have been a 50 year old single shot shotgun. The stock was falling off which took a
long screw driver to fix. What respectable boat tool chest would not have a long screw driver? It took less than five minutes, most of
which was time digging out the screw driver. The Kuna was really, really happy and said that he was going to the mainland to shoot
wabbits. No telling how long the poor guy's gun was broken. Leta calls me Kuna Helper. Very funny.
Towards the end of the trips, Ellis realizes we are burning lots of gasoline and it could be a month or so before we get to Colon. He asks
Horatio if he can buy gasoline. It appeared to us that three or four Kunas in the village owned outboards. Someone had to have gasoline.
Well. It took about an hour for Ellis and two or three Kunas to dig around in a little shack with several barrels of stuff to find about a half
barrel of gasoline that was not mixed with oil (our outboard is four stroke). Ellis declared the gasoline to be clean enough and bought two
gallons. One of the Kunas stuck a hose in the barrel and sucked gasoline with his mouth to get the siphon going and stuck the other end of
the hose in our spare gasoline can. I told you we had stepped back in time.
After a few days of all this activity and visits to the village, the Kunas went out of their way to paddle or motor by and wave and say hello.
Oh. And after the chief said okay, the fishermen began to stop by and try to sell us some of their catch of the day. We ended up eating the
best lobster and fish we have had in quite some time. Cool stuff.
We also had another visitor a few days into our stay. We had seen plenty of alligators back in Texas and Louisiana and thought they were
big. Of course, we are now in the land of crocodiles. These guys are much, much bigger. One morning while drinking coffee in the
cockpit, a monster comes out from the island and slithers into the water exactly where we had taken Bogey every day to pee. Holy Toledo.
We'll have to remember to look for crocs. Bogey would make the perfect croc-sized snack.
Isla Pinos to Nargana - After a week or so we decided to move northwest along the coast of Panama. The weather was supposed to be
fairly settled for a few days and we needed high sun to go the 60 or 70 miles to our next goal of Nargana in the central San Blas Islands.
The area between Isla Pinos and Nargana is poorly charted and the datum used for the official charts of the area is wrong. That means our
chartplotter has the location of everything wrong. There are many, many coral heads and shoals that can only be seen with sun overhead,
especially since it was rainy season and the water was murky (still clear but not as clear as if it were dry season). Besides sun, it is
imperative to have The Panama Cruising Guide by Eric Bauhaus. The cruising guide has many chartlets and many waypoints that are
correct (well almost). Armed with the sun and Bauhaus' waypoints we should be able to maneuver safely around the trouble spots.
The first day, we wanted to anchor at Mono Island. It was very close to the route designed by Bauhaus to be free of coral heads. We left
at ten to arrive at the anchorage around two (high sun the entire trip). We get to the island as scheduled and leave the route and motor
very slowly towards the island. Leta is on the bow. All of a sudden the depth goes from 50 feet to nine about the same time as Leta yells
(we have head phones - I may be deaf in one ear now) to go left. We never see less than nine, but had we gone right we could have run
aground and possibly poked a hole in the hull. The coral heads were now clearly visible, we just don't know how shallow they were. Those
heads were not charted, even on Bauhaus' charts. The next day, we hear on the Panama SSB net about a guy south of Isla Pinos that has
hit a rock and has a six foot crack in his hull two feet below the waterline. His bilge pump is keeping up with the water and he has put his
boat in five feet of water so he can't sink very far. Help out here is days, maybe weeks away. If the conditions are not perfect and you
can't see well enough through the water, you stay anchored in this part of the world. And then, you take it slow with someone perched high
at the bow.
After the mishap, we made it into the anchorage which was a perfectly protected mangrove lagoon with plenty of swinging room in 25 feet
of water. There are no other boats. We haven't seen one in days. This is our kind of cruising ground.
The waypoints along the route that Bauhaus charted proved to be right on. The next day we made it though a particularly hazardous area
by zig zagging for hours. We saw plenty of shoals, but the waypoints lead us perfectly around them, none too close for comfort. About two,
we dropped anchor in 35 feet of water very close to a Kuna village on the island of Niadup in the Devil Cays just about the same time as
the sun disappears and a rain storm gets us. As soon as the rain stops a Kuna guy promptly comes out and charges us five bucks for
anchoring there. This village was a slum compared to the village on Isla Pinos, but still no boats.
The next day we leave around ten again for the two hours or so to Nargana. The anchorage is very protected and is large enough to
accommodate quite a few boats (of course there are not many boats out here). Nargana is a relatively large village that has given up the
traditional Kuna ways. As a result, there is a generator running 24/7 that powers the entire community, there are a couple of stores with
basic food supplies and a couple of bars and the chief has no real power.
We wanted to stop in Nargana for several reasons. The first is that the next 25 to 30 miles are full of islands that dreams are made of; all
within an hour or two from each other. The second is that we needed diesel and a few food items. There is also an airstrip on the island
with service to Panama City in case we need it for some reason. We plan to be around the area for several months.
A Kuna by the name of Frederico comes out and introduces himself as soon as we get anchored. He said he could get anything we needed.
When I asked about diesel, he said no problem. He would have 40 gallons by that afternoon. In the meantime he wanted to show us the
village. So we get in the dinghy and he meets us at the dinghy dock. Some of the village was clean, some was not. There were four food
stores, only one of which we would buy anything from; the others were too dirty. The cleanest one (it was still pretty dirty) had a basic item
or two and Leta bought a head of cabbage. So much for food items we needed.
We also didn't get any diesel that afternoon. However, early the next morning we got twenty gallons (he couldn't get 40) of relatively clean
diesel. Well, it wasn't very clean but the Baja filter took care of it.
The sun was shining so we left around ten.
The San Blas Islands (September 2008 - October 2008) - The San Blas Islands begin at the Colombian border in the east and end in
the west at Punta San Blas, approximately 120 nautical miles. Isla Pinos and every island we have visited since has been in the San Blas
Islands. Most people consider the San Blas Islands to begin at Nargana on the eastern side and end at Porvenir on the western side.
These islands are further from the mainland and as a result the water is clearer and most are covered in tall palm trees surrounded by
white sand beaches. So we'll stay with convention in our captions.
An hour or so from Nargana was Green Island. The island has no inhabitants and is covered in palm trees surrounded by sand. It's also
surrounded by shoals and coral. We anchored in perfect protection amidst the reefs. We were still fairly close to the mainland so the
water was not perfectly clear, but plenty clear to see the bottom when it was necessary to do so. There were no boats. We had the
anchorage all to ourselves and stayed several days.
After a few days at Green Island we decided to go north a couple of miles to Coco Bandero Cays. Like Green Island, Coco Bandero is
surrounded by reefs and the islands are picture perfect. The only thing we didn't like about Coco Bandero was that the best anchoring spot
was about 45 feet deep. Since we carry 250 feet of chain on our primary anchor, our scope was about five to one. That's perfectly fine with
a big heavy anchor (Big Dog weighs 75 pounds), unless of course you catch a nasty squall with 50 knots or so of wind. In that case, I would
feel much more comfortable with seven to one, especially if the wind comes from a direction opposite from that which you set the anchor.
Oh, one other thing we didn't like about Coco Bandero was the backpacker boats. The San Blas Islands, Cartagena and Isla Linton (west
of the San Blas, close to Colon) are apparently backpaker destinations. Backpackers make their way to Isla Linton and are picked up by
boats that go to the San Blas and on to Cartagena and back. These trips usually last a couple of weeks all for a sum of less than $500.
The boats all have seen better days and are crammed with as many backpackers as will pay the fee. The backpackers as you might expect
are very young and are seeing the world before they go to college or to work. I guess it's a pretty good thing for the kids. Anyway, three
or four of these boats stop at Coco Bandero for a couple days each going to and coming back from Cartagena. The captains have their
favorite anchoring spots and will drop the hook regardless of whether you are there first or not. It just ruins the moment and what could be
a perfect anchorage (well, except maybe for the depth).
We left three days later to check out the Swimming Pool anchorage in the Holandes Cays. The anchorage is another one surrounded by
islands and reefs. The water is perfectly clear (even in rainy season) and is only 10 to 15 feet deep with good holding in white sand. The
closest island is called Barbecue Island in honor of all the cruisers who go ashore and, well, barbecue. The island is really nice and Bogey
had his way with it - I mean every tree, every bush, every piece of driftwood. He loved it. Unfortunately, this is one of the most popular
anchorages in the San Blas and during the season it's reportedly very crowded. There were only a couple of other boats now. As I said
above, we wanted to check out the anchorage, but the main reason to visit the anchorage was to meet one of the backpacker boats. A guy
named Mark has a mooring there (the only one) and stops every couple of weeks. When not transporting backpackers, he lives there. He
will buy anything you want when he stops in Colon every couple of weeks (actually Isla Linton then he drives to Colon) and will sell it to
you with a 30 percent mark up when he gets to the Swimming Pool. Well. We needed diesel and propane. A few days earlier, Todd and
Lynn on Blue Marine told us about old Mark. We then emailed him and when he showed up in the Swimming Pool he had 24 gallons of
diesel and propane for us. We will keep in touch with Mark while in the San Blas. He could extend our time away from civilization
considerably. By the way. Mark does not anchor on top of you in Coco Bandero. He's perfectly happy with his mooring at the Swimming
Pool.
After our business with Mark, we went back to Coco Bandero planning to stay up to a week. It's just so pretty. We had the place to
ourselves for a couple of days.
As reported previously, the water quality of our watermaker had deteriorated significantly. During the last month we had talked to Spectra
several times and had run a few tests to rule out several possible problems. We had concluded that our membrane was the culprit. The
last resort is to clean the thing with chemicals. There is a slight chance that a cleaning will work, but if it doesn't, we'll kill the membrane
completely. Since we needed to be in Colon anyway the first of November, we decided to arrive in mid-October so we could deal with the
watermaker issues. We wanted to be in a marina with access to water, in case the watermaker died after nuking it.
It was the first week in October, so we began paying particular attention to the forecasts between San Blas and Colon. The forecast was
calling for a low pressure system to form during the second week of October bringing with it more and more severe squalls. We decided to
beat the possible low and go a week earlier than planned to Shelter Bay Marina in Colon.
The next day we moved back to the Swimming Pool. The day after that we passed by the anchorages in the East Lemmon Cays on our way
to Chichime, our last anchorage in the San Blas Islands. There are many shoals around the East Lemmons (the depth goes from one
hundred feet to one in less than a boat length) so we had to pay attention. We traversed the area in high sun, so the shoals were easy to
see and we got through unscathed. We built a track with our chartplotter so we could get back through at a later time even if the sun was
not quite right. Of course we have built lots of tracks since Isla Pinos. As we approached Chichime, we built another track through two
shoals at the entrance since our plan was to leave just as the sun was coming up the following day.
The anchorage at Chichime was one of the prettiest in the San Blas, but it's deep like a lot of the anchorages here (45 feet). As we were
circling around the anchorage to make sure we had plenty of swinging room, three Kuna dugouts came out and followed us around until we
had dropped anchor. Two were selling molas and one guy, with his son, had the biggest red fish we had ever seen (must have weighed a
hundred pounds). Leta informs the Kuna women that we would not be buying molas today. One of them almost cried (she's really got that
act down). We also tell the fish guy that the fish was way too big for us. Later an old guy comes out asking for water. Before Chichime we
had not been bothered by the Kunas. They were pests here. We'll come back to Chichime because it's the logical coming and going
anchorage between San Blas and Colon. But next time, we'll at least know what to expect from the Kunas.
To Colon (October 2008) - Next morning, we were anchor up about thirty minutes before the sun was up, just enough light to see the
entrance. With a little light and our track we built the day before, it was easy to get past the shoals. Our plan was to travel a little over 50
miles and anchor at Portabello, only 20 miles from Colon, arriving around three that afternoon.
Well. As usual, things don't always go as planned. The light and variable wind turned out to be from due west (the direction we were going
- nothing new about that) between 12 and 16 knots. That wasn't so bad, but around one o'clock a big ugly rain storm kept getting closer
and closer. Also, the anchorage at Portabello was wide open to the west. Heck. We could get four footers in the anchorage. Not our idea
of fun. So we stopped early at Isla Linton which was much more protected. We get anchored (another 45 feet) just before the rain storm
got there. Not much wind but it rained all night. Isla Linton was very pretty, but the number of boats anchored there surprised us. As
discussed previously, it's also where backpackers congregate to pick up their boat rides. Oh. And we heard lots of Howler monkeys. Leta
says they sound like something out of Jurassic Park. The waves from the west did find their way into the anchorage, but only a half foot or
so. Just enough to make us roll all night since by then there was no wind to keep us pointed into the waves. Not much sleep that night.
The next morning we were moving again right before the sun came up. We had less than 30 miles to cover but we wanted to beat the ever
increasing afternoon thunderstorms. We arrived at the marina about eleven, just as heavy rain started. Leta got the worst of it since she
was on deck handling the lines while I was driving under the bimini. The rain popped up so fast she did not have time to get any foul
weather gear. She was soaked down to her underwear. The rain lasted a couple of hours.
First impressions of Shelter Bay Marina are good. Very well maintained concrete floating docks and very secure. It will be the perfect
place to leave Leta, the dog and the boat while Ellis goes to Dallas the first week in November. It will also b e a good place to sort out our
mechanical issues.
Colon (October 2008) - After three weeks at Shelter Bay Marina we have a few things to report.
The marina is probably the nicest marina we have stayed in since Nanny Cay Marina in the British Virgin Islands. The floating docks are
as good as any we have ever seen. Shelter Bay Marina is located at the inside base of the north breakwater that protects Limon Bay,
essentially the beginning of the Panama Canal on the Atlantic side. Not only is it behind the breakwater, but it has its own little cove with
approach depths at over twenty feet and depths at the slips about the same. So. The marina is very protected and easy to get into and out
of. The facilities are good. There is a large pool, a reasonably sized laundry and a reasonably good restaurant. The haul out facility is
good with a 40 ton lift. The boat yard is large and is very busy. The staff know what they are doing when they haul your boat and do basic
stuff like bottom paint. You can get a local mechanic but other things are tougher to come by, since Panama City is where most of the boat
work talent is concentrated (at least a two hour drive away).
The marina is also located on the grounds of an old abandoned US army base - Fort Sherman (at one time home of the US Army Jungle
Warfare School). There is still an armed entrance gate. There are occasional Panamanian forces training exercises on the grounds, but
not much of anything else. Most of the buildings are now uninhabitable. It's also in the middle of a jungle at least 20 miles from the city of
Colon. To get to Colon, you have to cross the Panama Canal and sometimes have to wait close to an hour for ships to get into the first lock
and the lift bridge to close. It's great for security, but it's not easy to get into town. The marina does have a bus running to town twice
daily, but you have to take a taxi to get anywhere other than the shopping center where the bus stops.
The old army base has abandoned roads all through the jungle that are a bit overgrown but still good enough to ride or walk through. Our
bikes found their way out of the dark nether regions of the starboard lazerette and we have been riding basically everyday. We are really
talking jungle here. During the first three weeks we have seen both Howler and Capuchin monkeys. The little critters are everywhere.
Leta even saw a Coati Mundi which looks like a cross between a racoon and an anteater but is part of the racoon family. Most people
never get to see jungle creatures up close except in a zoo, so the old Fort Sherman base truly makes for a unique experience.
Now for the negatives.
The city of Colon is dangerous. Everyone warns you not to go anywhere without a taxi or driver to take you directly to the door of your
destination and wait on you. A perfect example of how dangerous the city has become was our trip into Colon to visit Immigration a couple
of days after we arrived. The marina can take care of the Port Captain and Customs but you have to go to Immigration in person. You
also have to hire either an agent or a driver to take you there. We chose one of the drivers recommended by the marina and Teddy spoke
perfect English because he grew up in New Jersey. Anyway. When we get close to the office, Teddy tells us that we are in what the locals
call a red zone and he will take us right to the door. He then was to park the car and meet us in the office (to help translate). We spent a
few minutes in the office and found out that we had to go to across the street to have a couple of pictures taken for our documents and then
to a bank to buy a couple of five dollar stamps. Teddy takes us across the street and while we are doing our business a couple of bicycle
cops talk to Teddy about protection. Yep. Protection. So the cops watch us and the car for a while and we pay them five bucks for the
protection (the escort from the picture place to the car). We then go to the bank and back to the office where the Immigration official also
wants five bucks to process our documents. We hand the "tip" right through the little window. Even the Dominican Republic tried to
make it look official. No one seemed to care in Colon. It also didn't take us too long to realize that part of Teddy's job was to keep us safe
and to lead us through the payola game. We're happy to report that he looks like Mr. T.
Even though the marina has some of the best facilities we have seen, the marina staff has a go &*%$#@ yourself attitude. It's like they
hate their jobs and are tired of catering to the rich (if they only knew) Americans. The attitude is pervasive and rivals that of the "you owe
me something" attitude in the eastern Caribbean islands.
The last negative to report is that Panama City is a two or three hour trip by car - one way. If you want really good stores, especially those
that carry marine parts, you have to go to Panama City. Hiring a driver for the day to take you where you need to go costs $150 to $180
round trip. Ouch.
All things considered we would stay at Shelter Bay again. That's good because Shelter Bay is the only game in town. The Panama City
Yacht Club is across the bay adjacent to Colon. If you set foot outside of the entrance gate you will be robbed at gun point - guaranteed.
The marina is also in disrepair because the land the marina occupies is owned by the Port Authority. The Port Authority has given the
marina notice that they will be taking over the space to make room for expanding the port. The marina has about six months left. The only
other option is to anchor in the Flats anchorage where small boats wait to transit the canal. Petty theft is a problem at the Flats and when
the marina is gone there will be absolutely no security at all.
More to Come
 | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  |
| Island and mainland scenes from the anchorage |
| Kuna village |
| Kuna kids (and one mom) |
| Scenes from Green Island |
| Coco Bandero |
| Chichime was very pretty! |
| Find the monkey!!!! |
| Scenes from Shelter Bay Marina |
| Monkeys are everywhere !!!! |
| Jungle scenes from old Fort Sherman. The building is a Army Battery taken over by the jungle. |
| Entrance to Limon Bay and the Panama Canal |
| Dangerous city of Colon |
| Looking north over the breakwater |