8 August 2013 Shelter Bay Marina to Portobello, Panama
We were up early, getting ready to finally leave Shelter Bay Marina. I belatedly remembered that I’d bought a 3G modem and a SIM card, to allow us to access the Internet while out in the San Blas islands. Unfortunately, I’d not installed it or tested it, so I had a go after breakfast - it didn't go well. I first installed the software that came on the USB modem, but that was linked to the telecom provider in the UK, so I had to download a new program called Mobile Partner, which seems to work, but I can’t get the modem to connect to the Digicel network.
I went over to see Jerry on “Vida Dulce” and we tried various combinations of things by putting his SIM card in my dongle and vice versa. However, I still don’t have a working modem. The good news is that my SIM card works okay on his modem, but the bad news is that my modem doesn't connect using either my SIM card or Jerry’s SIM card. A dead end and two hours of my life wasted.
I spent another hour rushing around the deck, lashing things down and preparing for sea. We dropped the dinghy into the water and installed the outboard, which thankfully started first time. We finally managed to slip away from the marina berth just after eleven o'clock.
We’d had a nice 12 knot wind from the north in the marina, so I was looking forward to a pleasant, close reach to Portobello. Unfortunately, the wind veered around to the north-east as we motored through the breakwater and we had to resign ourselves to 3 hours of motoring straight into the wind. At least the waves weren’t too big and the batteries got a good charge.
Portobello lived up to its reputation of being one of the wettest palaces in Panama, because it threw it down as we approached the harbour, but it soon stopped before we anchored. It’s nice to be at anchor again, with pelicans gliding past and parrots flying on dead straight routes from their feeding grounds to their night roosts. Unfortunately, there’s not much wind in the harbour and the air is heavy with humidity, so we spent the afternoon reading in the cockpit, trying to catch any breezes and missing the air conditioner.
We had dinner up in the cockpit for the first time in six weeks, which was very pleasant. I even plugged in my new calabash cockpit light that I wired up a few days ago. It works well and the small holes let through an attractive light – all I need to do now is to finish off painting it to make it look prettier.
9 August 2013 Portobello to Isla Linton, Panama
We had a slow start to the day. I've put on about half a stone extra weight over the past couple of months – too much entertaining in the UK and evening meals of chicken burger and chips in the marina bar, so I started to do my morning exercises again. It nearly killed me.
Glenys wanted to do some more provisioning, so we hopped into the dinghy and whizzed into town. It’s still as scruffy as ever, but at least they've stopped people dumping garbage opposite to the Port Captain's office. We bought more heavy stuff like drinks and some more fresh vegetables and meat. The supermarkets in Portobello are rough, but well stocked.
After lunch, we motored ten miles around to Isla Linton and anchored amongst the thirty or so other yachts in the anchorage. There’s an active fish farm at the entrance to the harbour, which gave us a few concerns as we approached, but there’s deep water all the way into the anchorage.
This is a well-protected harbour, but it’s crowded with lots of permanently moored yachts, most of which appear to have been abandoned here. We anchored close to “Nuwam” and went over to see Robert and Heidi for sun downers to catch up with them.
10 August 2013 Isla Linton, Panama
It was a beautiful sunny day for a change. “Nuwam” came over in their dinghy at ten o'clock and took us to Panamarina to go for a walk. There’s a really nice small boat channel through the mangroves between Isla Linton and Panamarina, which turns into an enclosed tunnel formed from the mangrove trees for half of its length.
We had a pleasant hike along a dirt road, through rainforest and cultivated land to a small village called Hosé del Mar. There’s a very small store just outside the village, where we came across the owner hand-making a guitar. We stopped and chatted to him and played one of his guitars, which was a very strange shape – almost like a large mandolin. It played okay though. The guy can make a guitar in three or four days and only charges $75, but I wasn't tempted.
Having reached the village, Robert then frog-marched us back to Panamarina where the French owners' cook lunch in their small restaurant. The other eight customers were all French speaking, so it was a little strange – I kept thinking that we were in some small Les Routiers in France. The main meal was okay, but nothing to write home about.
After lunch, Robert & Heidi dropped us back on Alba and we had a quiet afternoon sleeping off the exercise and the couple of beers that we indulged in.
In the evening, we dinghied over to the dock on Isla Linton to watch the small troop of Spider Monkeys that come down to the shore every evening. There was a boat of locals that had arrived before us who were feeding the monkeys – obviously a local attraction. The monkeys have amazing prehensile tails and extremely long thin limbs. When they stretch out, they stand about four feet high, yet can curl up into a small ball – cute, but unpredictable, so we kept our distance.
11 August 2013 Isla Linton, Panama
There was a massive squall in the middle of the night with torrential rain, but fortunately not much wind. There was the usual sound of thunder all around us and then we had the closest lightning strike to date. The flash and the huge bang were instantaneous and we could hear the air sizzling as the lightning hit something very near. Fortunately, all our electronics still work.
It was still raining in the morning, with rumbles of thunder all around, so we resigned ourselves to a day indoors. This miserable rain-season weather is starting to wear me down.
The good news is that I had lots of time to play with my new guitar. It’s a Yamaha AC1M, which is very similar to my old guitar, but is a little bit smaller and has a cutaway, so that I can play the higher frets more easily. I'm getting used to the thinner strings, which makes playing barre chords much easier, but there’s an annoying buzzing sound when I pluck the strings hard. I guess that I'm going to have to adjust the truss rod to make the action a little higher in the middle of the fret board, but I’ll leave it for a week and see if it changes as the wood settles into this more humid environment.
Robert and Heidi came for a beer in the evening and gave us some more places to stop in the San Blas islands.
12 August 2013 Isla Linton to Green Turtle Marina, Panama
It was reasonable weather in the morning, so we upped anchor early and motored the ten miles around to around to Green Turtle Marina. By the time that we’d tied up on the dock, it had started raining, so we hunkered down for the rest of the day.
There’s not a lot at this small marina, but it’s a convenient stopping point on our way to the San Blas Islands – it’s only 45 miles to the Lemon Cays from here. They have fuel here and are supposed to have a good wireless internet connection, but just our luck, the router has packed up so we can’t get connected. Even the small restaurant on the beach was closed today.
However, it only cost us $12 for the night and the water on the docks comes from a fresh water spring, so we emptied our water tanks of the horrible town water that we picked up in Shelter Bay Marina and refilled with this excellent tasting water.
13 August 2013 Green Turtle Marina to Yansaladup, San Blas, Panama
I woke up early with the sun streaming through the window for a change, so we jumped out of bed and left the marina by seven o’clock. We started motoring in blue skies and caught two small bonito. By mid-morning, the wind had picked up to fifteen knots and we were able to sail for the first time in nearly two months – it was wonderful.
We approached the Lemon Cays and went towards Chichime which is a very popular anchorage. As we approached, we counted ten boats at anchor, which looked too crowded. Instead, we weaved our way through the reefs and sand banks to anchor off Yansaladup which is a small isolated island with only two other yachts at anchor, the closest being 200 metres away. At 12 metres, it’s a deep anchorage, typical of this area, but the seabed is sand and good holding. The island of Yansaladup is a small circular island covered in coconut palms and looks to have one family living in traditional grass huts – looks pretty.
The sun continued to beat relentlessly down on us, so we put up the awning and sat around in the cockpit trying to catch a little breeze. Later in the afternoon, we jumped into the dinghy and went snorkelling near the outer reef, but the water was full of sediment and there wasn't a huge amount to see.
In the evening, we were visited by a huge moth with a four inch wing span as we had dinner in the cockpit. It was a big as a small bat and insisted on flying around our cockpit light, which was very scary. I eventually caught it and, even though it was beautiful, I consigned it to the deep.
14 August 2013 Yansaladup, Eastern Lemon Cays, Panama
Before we had breakfast, there was a small knock on the side of the hull. I found a dugout canoe alongside containing Venancio Restrepo, a local master mola maker. Glenys and I then spent over an hour looking through the vast collection of molas that he had for sale.
Molas are traditional panels made from brightly coloured squares of multi-layered, embroidered fabric depicting landscape scenes, birds, animals and fish. The Kuna Indian ladies wear the panels as a kind of top and there’s great pride in owning high quality molas – the quality depends on the number of layers of material and how detailed the stitching is. Some of the more elaborate panels can take months of work. After ploughing through hundreds of molas, Glenys finally bought two panels from Venancio – one for $60 and one for $30. I think that I got off lightly.
We had another lazy day – the heat is very oppressive and we've not acclimatised after the luxury of air conditioning in Shelter Bay Marina. I’m quite excited to be here in the San Blas and did some reading up on the history and the culture.
The Kuna Indians are fairly isolated living on the 350 islands next to the Columbian border. There is only one road to the area and that’s a dirt track only passable by four wheel trucks. A few small airstrips on some of the islands allow air access to the region, but most of the inter-island transport is via the ubiquitous pirogue, powered by 75hp Yamaha outboards. The Kuna Indians extensively use a dugout canoe called an “ulu” for local transport and fishing – these are often equipped with a removable mast and sails.
As with all indigenous peoples, the Kuna have been oppressed over the centuries – initially by the Spanish Conquistadores and latterly by the Panamanian Government. Although a normally peaceful people, the Kuna rebelled in 1925, killing all Panamanians & Kunas of mixed heritage and declared an independent republic called Kuna Yala. The Panamanian government was about to start a retaliatory military campaign, but the USA intervened with a warship and, after protracted negotiation, the Kuna are now recognised as an autonomous region within Panama.
The Kuna Indians are unique in the Americas as they have best preserved their traditions and culture. They number around 55,000 and are organised in a strict hierarchy of tribal leaders. Each village has three chiefs (Sailas) who not only act as political leaders, but hold knowledge of tribal medicine and Kuna history. There are three high chiefs (Caciques) for the whole nation with one of these being the president or supreme leader of the Kunas.
The Kuna economy is dependent on the sale of coconuts to Colombian trading boats that ply the coastal waters. Coconuts are grown on every island in the region and when the Columbian boats arrive, hundreds of Kuna can be seen paddling their ulus loaded up with coconuts. Another source of income is tourism and the sale of molas made by the Kuna ladies.
The traditional Kuna house is built with cane walls on a slightly raised hard packed dirt floor. The roof is constructed with a wooden frame lashed together and covered with palm leaves to make a thatched and very water proof covering. Inside the house, there is no furniture; just hammocks hanging from the roof - the Kuna are born, conceived and die in their hammocks.
In the afternoon, we went out of a cut to the west of Yansaladup, where the snorkelling was very interesting as the reef has been formed into lots of narrow canyons.
15 August 2013 Yansaladup to The Swimming Pool, Eastern Hollandaise, Panama
It was another nice morning, so we upped anchor at about ten o’clock and motored fifteen miles over to the Swimming Pool anchorage in the Eastern Hollandaise. The trip was uneventful apart from hitting a sodden log and then hooking it with the fishing line.
The Eastern Hollandaise Cays are stunning – small islands with white sand beaches and coconut palms swaying in the breeze. The Swimming Pool anchorage is between Banedup and BBQ Island and is named because it’s shallow water over white coral sand creating a stunning blue colour. We anchored in 3.5 metres with the anchor burying itself satisfyingly in the soft sand.
After lunch, we went snorkelling in a channel near the outer reef, which was interesting, but the water was a little murky. We had to cut the outing short because my new dive mask kept steaming up. I’d previously tried to clean the inside of the mask lenses with toothpaste, but there must have still been some film left behind by the manufacturing process. When we got back to the boat, I used a gas lighter to run a flame around the inside of the lenses. This seems a bit radical especially as the inside of the lens turned smoky black, but it did the job.
It was another hot afternoon, so we lounged about gasping for air. Unfortunately, we were invaded by no-see-ums at around five o'clock, so we had to break out the mosquito coils to try to deter the hungry little buggers.