Still in Panamá - will the Caribbean ever let us leave?

 

Saturday 21^st January 2023, Linton Bay, Panamá.

We arrived here yesterday after a day's sail down from the San Blas. This is our first mainland (it's been islands all the way) anchorage since leaving Namibia way back in the pre-covid era and we're struggling to get our heads around the fact that, if we wanted to, we could hire a car and drive all the way to Alaska. Karl has gone ashore today to help out with some boat work on an Aussie boat we first met in Dominica last season (Zen Again) and meanwhile a Brisbane boat (Mac) has just anchored in front of us – maybe it's the start of an Australia Day gathering, we never see Aussie boats.

How cool is this? A Linton Bay home, I want to live in one of these someday.

So we've spent a lovely couple of weeks in the hands of the Guna Yala in the San Blas Islands. Sheltered anchorages, quiet islands, reefs for snorkeling and just enough civilised comforts to encourage you to stay longer. Our first morning anchored off Banedup island (in the Holland Keys) we were circled by a serious looking fast black launch full of guys wearing camouflage fatigues, bulletproof vests and helmets, carrying large guns and videoing everything. Yikes. And we hadn't even officially checked in yet (our first time ever not adhering 100% to the formalities)! But they disappeared and never returned. We often had kids paddling up to us in their dugout canoes asking for “galletas”, always galletas nothing else, and Karl did a wonderful job of chatting away in English to them pretending not to understand a word of Spanish and yet mysteriously seeming to know exactly what they were after. Wandering around ashore we found Ibin who is running a little restaurant with a very big stove, so big that I just can't imagine how it got there (a big lancha from the mainland apparently, but how did they get it off the lancha?) so we had a very pleasant lunch cooked by not me for the first time in a while. For the first two days it felt like we were among a group of tiny, low islands in the middle of nowhere but then the clouds cleared and we saw the mainland not very far away at all and the illusion was gone.

An attempted walking circumnavigation of Banedup.

The restaurant is expanding, using traditional building techniques.

Settling in for a lobster lunch.

Ibin's conch road through the middle of the island back to the patiently waiting Gráinne.

The next island after Banedup was Waisaladup, also in the Holland Cays. Another quiet island, just a few huts ashore, but I was hug-attacked by a small child as we were exploring one day. The reef here may have been the best snorkeling of my life (ooooh, better than Tobago Cays???) - loads of variety of fish in bright blue, yellow, black and purple, nice variety of soft and hard coral and grasses and trees and my favourite lilac ferns. And a very intimidating huge (huge!) ray of some sort flying along. And finally on day 6 in the San Blas the fruit and veggie men arrived, yay. And the best kind of fruit and veggie men too, the kind who also bring prawns and wine. And then a mola man arrived all the way from Isla Maquina a couple of hours away. He came on board as we looked through all his molas (a traditional San Blas sewing craft) and his bored young assistant looked through his social media. And then one morning I woke up to find a bloody great cruise ship anchored behind us! Much, much smaller (only 180 passengers) than the Aruba ships but somehow even more intrusive in this environment.

Anchored off Waisaladup

Only an occasional house to be found on the island.

Best snorkelling ever! Although I have noticed a trend of finding the snorkeling particularly good whenever I've bothered to put in my contact lenses.

Like this but more colourful and with loads of fish.

The arrival of the fruit & veg men brings a flurry of excitement to the morning routine - where will I fit it all?

Next stop was Chichime. We sailed there on our 25^th anniversary. 25 years on and still no-one has succeeded in chucking the other overboard. Rather disturbingly each island group here seems to have its own big shipwreck sitting proudly atop their reef. It really does help to focus the mind of a sailor as you make your approach. Well in the routine now we went ashore to attempt a walking circumnavigation of the island and then had a wee snorkel. And finally we sailed to El Porvenir, the port of entry, to check in (really really hoping we weren't going to get into trouble).

Even the big guys sometimes end up on the reef.

El Porvenir and it's neighbouring islands really felt like the big smoke. Porvenir has a very impressive Guna Yala Congreso building, immigration where two officers come for 20 days at a time, Fuerza Aeronaval (we had found the source of the circling dudes back on day one) who come for 30 days at a time and even a (largely unused apart from off duty military jogging up and down it) runway! 

The dock and barracks at Porvenir

The very impressive Congreso building.

Chances are high the local fishermen will have a spare lobster aboard that they're willing to sell to a hungry sailor.

Lobster success.

We went ashore to check in and were told by a very friendly, helpful and clearly bored out of his mind Aeronaval officer that the immigration officer was due at 3pm. So we hung around to wait. When we checked back at three we heard that the boat bringing the immigration officer had engine trouble and was delayed so the aeronaval officer suggested (because a French couple also waiting were in acute withdrawal after 5 days without internet) we could pop across to the island next door (Wichubhuala) to buy SIM cards. Now this island was completely different – every inch was built on, wall to wall houses, a couple of shops, a school, a health centre, a beach volleyball court (this seems compulsory on every island actually) and a very impressive concrete basketball court. So we wandered the pretty streets, found the shop, bought the SIM cards and buzzed back to immigration to find two newly arrived immigration officers settling into their bunks in rooms just off the office. And we checked in and no one arrested us and we all lived happily ever after.

Waiting for immigration.

Urban sprawl Guna Yala style in the big smoke of Wichubhuala.

Basketball anyone?

Monday 13^th February, Playa Venao, Panamá.

Surf trip! Yay.

Gráinne's been in a marina near the entrance to the Panamá Canal for the past couple of weeks. At first we were super busy with pre-canal transit boat work but then got to a stage where we're waiting on parts to be delivered from the US and don't really have any more work we can do in the meantime. So Karl made a snap decision that we'd take a road trip. And here we are in a sleepy little surf town on the south coast that must be what Byron was like in the 50s or Bali in the 70s.

Rewinding slightly to take up where we left off above, after the San Blas we spent a lovely few days in Linton Bay where we had a chance to catch up with the crew of Zen Again (and Karl got his nerd fix with another HF radio obsessed geek) and met the crew of Brisbane boat Mac, who are actually from Toowoomba (and Victoria but we'll overlook that). Puerto Lindo is a lovely little town that gets completely taken over on weekends by softball games. The diamond literally extends across the main road and the audience overflow takes up position along the side of the road.

The cars don't seem to mind the softball pitch taking over their road and the supporters don't seem to mind the cars driving across their view.

Next stop was Portobelo, a fascinating spot. First spotted by Columbus in 1502 it became the most important port in the Spanish Empire back in the 17^th and 18^th centuries – the spot where all the silver and gold from their South American territories was loaded on ships and sent back to Europe (the Spanish Armada would arrive once every three years, send word ahead overland of their arrival from Cartagena, Colombia to Lima, Peru where it would trigger a flurry of activity to make sure all the goods made it via the silver fleet from Lima to Panamá and then overland to Portobelo in time as the Armada would only stay there for a month). Consequently it was a major target for pirates and so now has three (three!, imagine Karl's excitement) old forts to explore. Also ashore is a pleasant little town with three mini-supers (mini-supermarkets), at least two decent restaurants, a fruit & veg stall and an impressive church. What more could a boat and crew ask for? We were very very fond of Portobelo.

Fuerte Santiago defending the very lovely anchorage at Portobelo.

Ashore it's a pretty chilled sort of a place.

The ubiquitous fishermen.

Finally Karl finds what he's been needing all these years - a school of rhythm.

Gráinne anchored behind a beautiful Dutch schooner being watched over by Fuerte San Fernando.

Tearing ourselves away from Portobelo we made a final Australia Day push down to the Colón area at the Atlantic entrance to the Panamá Canal. We had a great downwind ride, hooning along in 25kn instead of the promised 10-15kn. Then a slightly hairy zoom across the channel in front of the enormous looming bow of the ship Spirit of Sydney which we figured, it being Australia Day, wouldn't run us over. It didn't but I've never seen Karl push the revs on his precious engine quite so high. The final hurdle was squeezing into a very tight marina with the 25kn of wind still blowing. Dockmaster Eddie was very accommodating, giving us an easy berth after my graphic descriptions of just exactly how Gráinne handles (or doesn't) in close quarters but Karl still had to come in to the dock with the engine in reverse to counteract the wind up our bum. Within about half an hour of our arrival an Aussie came by to invite us to an Australia Day gathering later that evening where there were yet more Aussie boats. We met a Fremantle boat, Silver Chief, and reminisced about life in Perth but we took a few days before confessing to each other that we'd all lived in Cottesloe (Mortifying! Most of Cottesloe is really quite swanky) and had been nearly neighbours in the middle of last year.

Back in the land of the big ships approaching Colón.

We didn't get as close as this daredevil little sailboat.

Shelter Bay Marina is unusually situated. It's in the middle of a military base (Fuerza Aeronaval) in the middle of a jungle opposite the dodgy, crime-ridden, drug-smuggling city of Colón. Fort Sherman is a former US base built to defend the Canal on the Atlantic side. The current base is much smaller so there's lots of semi-ruined disused old base buildings around. It's got some nice roads for early morning runs and there's an old fort (Fort Lorenzo) that we must get around to seeing. But mainly it's been down to work. Cleaning, shining, sealing, fixing, paperwork, paperwork and some more paperwork (for the Canal and the Galapagos, they just love their paperwork).

Abandoned former residential buildings at Fort Sherman.

The road into Fort Sherman. Not alot about except greenery.

One of our unexpected finds during boatwork - something had laid some tiny eggs in our throwbag. We assume it was a little lizard in Curaçao while we were away.

Karl re-sealed our portlights.

Intense concentration involved in replacing the (falling apart from UV damage) tape on our curtains.

Karl thought for a while he had killed his new HF radio while meddling with the insides. Thankfully it was just a blown fuse.

Brand new liferaft, courtesy of the cost of servicing our very old one being the same as buying a new one and the Galapagos insisting on an in-service liferaft. Don't know what the face means, even after 25 years.

New, healthier, method for cooling down after a hot day's work - put the beer on your belly instead of in your belly.

All work and no play....we also caught up with the crew of Be Free, an old friend of Karl's from the infamous first season in Grenada.

After a few days of hard work I was sitting in the cockpit one evening when a sailor came by looking for John. I wasn't John but we got chatting about our respective plans – they were a US couple also planning on going through the canal, the next day in fact – and then he suddenly said “would you like to come with us as linehandlers, we're leaving at 5am?”, I looked at Karl, he looked at me, “why not?”. So we got a chance to experience the canal transiting process on Alchemy as a trial run for our own transit. It was fun. Tiring, the first set of locks were very tiring, but lots of fun.

In a lock on Alchemy, feeling slightly insignificant and vulnerable, with a car carrier behind us and a container ship in the lock next door.

And when the work finally ran out Karl declared it a holiday, we hired a car and set off. First stop was El Valle Anton up in the hills to the west of Panamá city. This is a lovely spot. Completely different from the sea-level tropical vegetation around Colón. It's dry, cooler and agricultural. The Sunshine Coast Hinterland of Panamá. El Valle is a town of about 7000, the urban centre for the surrounding farmland, with a sprinkle of tourist businesses. Apart from breathing the fresh mountain air and slowing down to a lovely quiet pace of life the big thing to do in El Valle is a hike to the India Dormida. So we did it. A short and steep trail, Karl had no faith that me and my dislike of heights was going to make it to the top but we did! To enjoy lovely views of the town nestled below in an old volcano crater.

View of the hills around El Valle de Anton from our hotel room.

The top of La India Dormida with the town in the crater below.

It didn't strike me as the kind of town that would need a sign like this at the supermarket.

After the hills we headed down to the surf breaks of the south coast. Lots more dry, flat, agricultural land and small towns. At the southern end of the peninsula we arrived at Playa Venao, a tiny town built around the surfing possibilities of the lovely crescent bay. Unpaved roads, surf schools, cafes, casual restaurants and a microbrewery. Perfect. We couldn't resist visiting the microbrewery on our first evening. We were met by two guys behind the bar who looked surprised to see anyone (we assumed they were staff, maybe not) and one guy lying on the floor, legs enveloped in inflatable rings, headphones on and bright red lights illuminating each side of his head. No-one acknowledged his existence. Avis and Kashmir were very friendly and welcoming and served us some beer. Then they started a meditation session on the front deck producing a very awkward situation once we'd finished our beers and wanted to pay. Can you interrupt a meditation session? Could you just pour yourself another couple of beers? Eventually another staff member got back from his surf session and took care of us.

Main Street, Playa Venao.

Rush, rush, rush at Playa Venao.

If you're feeling energetic you can go for a walk on the beach.

Or just wait around for sunset.

The next morning we rocked up to breakfast at our accommodation and saw someone waving at us. The crew of Silver Chief! Great minds think alike, they had also decided to escape Shelter Bay Marina and have a surf trip. Karl hired a board and gave the old surfing a go for the first time since Durban and the age of 43. A day later he conceded that perhaps he's not quite up to mixing it up on the steep stuff on a short board anymore and swapped it for something longer and floatier. And started catching waves.

The return of Surfer Karl.

Saturday February 18^th, Shelter Bay Marina.

The final, Valentine's Day, stop on the way back to Shelter Bay was another coastal resort, Farallón, on the south coast a little to the west of Panamá city. We arrived just in time to walk down the beach from our B&B to a beach bar, have a drink, watch the fishermen launch their boats, walk back down the beach to our B&B and cook dinner in our terrace kitchen.

Karl in his element cooking up a Valentine's Day dinner.

Recovering from the great cooking event.

Of course we had also raided the supermarket in each town for massive amounts of whatever they had that we were interested in for the big Pacific crossing. Our boot was completely full by the time we got back. And we encountered at least our fair share of the vast numbers of traffic police on Panamanian roads, it's absolutely crawling with them. We got pulled for speeding (everyone was speeding) and for an illegal U-turn (that all the locals take). Karl has become expert at....how do you say.....resolving the issue at a local level.

Supermarket haul part one.

Chaos reigns aboard as boat parts start to be delivered while the food shopping is still getting catalogued and stowed.

And now, back at the marina, we have a few last jobs and then should be able to head through the canal and back into the Pacific in about a week or so.