TIMESPINNER’S TRAVELS CHAPTER 15
August 2, 2009

Note: click on the pictures to enlarge.

I'm writing this sitting in my armchair in Marbella, where we've been for the last two months, TIMESPINNER being out of the water in a parking lot in Panama.


The San Blas Islands seem very far away in another life--which, of course, they are!





When we ended Ch.14 we were in Puerto Perme at the eastern end of the San Blas archipelago by the Colombian border, waiting for heavy seas to abate.

After a week we were getting rather tired of peering out to sea at a corrugated horizon but finally came a morning when it didn't look quite so bad, so, bidding a fond farewell to our friends Alberto and Francesca on the aptly-named yacht NAUSICAA (they both suffer dreadfully from seasickness), we hoisted sail.

It was still not exactly calm and the first six miles were straight into wind and sea. It took us all morning tacking back and forth before we cleared the reef and were able to bear off the wind a bit and make some speed. After that the going was easier, although not exactly comfortable but after a couple of hours we were somewhat sheltered by an outlying reef.

We anchored for the night at Suledup, which is a perfectly sheltered bay with a rather terrifyingly narrow and shallow entrance. We stopped there on the way down to Perme and made three tries before we managed to enter. This time we knew the way and slipped in easily. It's a lovely, tranquil place and we couldn't bring ourselves to haul our anchor the next morning and so spent a lazy day. There is a nearby village and it was not long before a canoe came out to collect their anchoring fee. For once we didn't owe them anything, having paid on the way down. We gave them some small presents for their trouble and indicated that we would like to buy fish and vegetables. Here is Marie doing the daily shopping.


Next stop was Isla de Pinos, again a place we had previously visited. From Suledup to Pinos is a really lovely passage in calm water between a long island and the mainland. There was little wind and these children came sailing over to look at us.


At the end of the inland passage we had to pick our way between little islands and coral to reach Pinos, which is the hump-backed island in the distance.


The last time we were at Pinos we anchored with other yachts behind the little island, just off the village so we could visit.

Kuna villages were less of a novelty to us now, and, since we only intended to stay overnight, we preferred peace and beauty. This was our anchorage.


The next day was sailing at its very best. Smooth sheltered water, wonderful scenery and plenty of coral reefs and little islands to weave between to keep you on your toes.



Here we see the barrier reef in the distance, other breaking reefs and a nearby shallow reef, dangerous because, being sheltered, it does not break and is visible only by the darker colour in the water.


This is such a great place for sailing that even the Kunas seem to have taken it up for fun. It is the first place where we have seen this. Usually their canoes are used for serious purposes--transportation or fishing--rarely just for fun. In addition to coral reefs to dodge, now we had traffic as well. And nobody has taught the Kunas about traffic rules!

Winding our way between coral through an area marked "unsurveyed" on the chart, we came to a tiny landlocked mangrove-lined cove with a narrow entrance. It is unnamed on the chart but one yachtsman had named it "Golondrina Cove" because of all the swallows there. That must have been at another time of year for we saw none. The entrance was deep enough in water too muddy to see the bottom but once inside we mushed to a gentle stop, aground in soft mud. We dropped the sails and put the engine full speed astern and backed off without difficulty, dropping our anchor just inside the entrance. There is a little village nearby and there had been a canoe in the cove when we entered. We expected to receive the usual visit of a canoe with a delegation demanding a fee for anchoring but they did not show up. In fact we saw no more of that in the western San Blas. There are more tourists and the Kunas have found other ways to milk them.

Next day was very much the same scenery but it would take a long time to become jaded!


At one point we passed this rather jolly little Colombian trading boat. They ply the coast from Venezuela to Panama carrying anything from coconuts and bananas to livestock to bottled gas.


This was quite a long day's sail. In these latitudes sunset is at six o'clock sharp and nightfall is half an hour later. With all the hazards to navigation around, you don't want to arrive at your stopping place too late. We arrived at Diablo Cays with time to spare, but, just as we approached, the shore was blotted out by a sudden rain squall. We had a worrying few moments but it cleared in time for us to make our anchorage off a palm-fringed beach.


And then to have a glass of rum and enjoy the sunset.


Next stop was Rio Diablo, where we went ashore because we were running short of provisions and this village had the reputation of being more modern than most others. It certainly was that and we didn't like it at all. As we have noted before, the Kunas live their primitive lifestyle because they like it that way. Nevertheless, to maintain the integrity of this way against the attractions of modern life, particularly among the young, requires a certain amount of discipline, traditionally provided by the tribal leaders, the sailas. But the authority of the Sailas is purely customary. In this place, the old discipline has broken down, the sailas have lost their authority and the result resembles a North American indian reservation. Nobody works for the common good, drunkenness is evident and the village is a mess. The village has electricity and in consequence there is an utter cacophony of radios, televisions and stereos blasting from the flimsy bamboo walls. The place has an economy. There are shops, even a ladies' hairdresser.

The shop where we bought our supplies had small quantities of an extraordinary assortment of goods, little of which appropriate to our life. We bought some vegetables and when we asked for meat we were directed to a rusty freezer in which were some pieces of chicken and a lake of frozen bloody water in the bottom. We were suspicious but when thawed the chicken smelled all right. Still, we cooked it well.


Gone is the dignity of the old way. Gone, too is colourful dress of the women in favour of drab Western garb. It saddened us because Kuna culture is something unique that we feel privileged to have seen. But the pressures of modernity are strong and insidious and I believe that in Rio Diablo we have had a taste of the future.

And here is the man who made it all happen. We liked the unintended symbolism of covering his statue in false gold.


Up to now we had seen very few yachts in the San Blas Islands. In Rio Diablo there were some two dozen. It is the eastern end of what must be one of the very finest cruising areas in the world but still relatively unknown and not yet very crowded. It's not very large, covering an area of about 25 nautical miles by fifteen, which is to say, only half the size of the Virgin Islands or the Grenadines, but with perhaps a hundred tiny palm islands


with perfect white beaches to walk on,

and lovely secluded anchorages, rarely more than an hour or two of sailing, one to another. Here we didn't even bother with the dinghy, which, as you can see, is still on deck, but swam ashore.


The water is crystal clear and the diving is great.


Many yachts spend the hurricane season there and we've even met people who liked it so much that they have stayed for years.

It's small enough that VHF radio covers the whole area and there is an active social scene among yachts, with a continuous chatter on the air between yacht people, mostly American, all of whom seem to know each other, exchanging gossip or making rendezvous for drinks or beach barbecues or bridge at one or another anchorage. Many of the more popular anchorages have names like "The Swimming Pool", names that appear on no chart, unknown outside the yachting community. We stayed out of this. Not our scene.

We would have liked to spend more time exploring this glorious cruising ground but we were beginning to run short of time. We were not in too much of a hurry, however, to play Robinson Crusoe,

to light a fire on the beach,

cook up something colourful and delicious with local ingredients


and just to take it easy and enjoy life.


Leaving The San Blas Islands, we thought it wise to report to the authorities, so we anchored at Porvenir, which has a tiny airport and customs office, but found nobody home. We would have to do it when we arrived at Colon.


While we were there we had the visit of three Kuna women selling molas and the trinkets they make. Since most tourists arrive at Porvenir, their prices were much higher than we had encountered elsewhere. The women were all smiles until they found that we were not buying, whereupon the smiles vanished and they wasted no more time with us.

We left Porvenir at first light because we had a long way to go before we would find a good anchorage. As it happened, we had an unexpectedly strong current with us and made excellent time, anchoring at Puerto Lindo, further along the coast than we planned.
Puerto Lindo is, as its name implies, a beautiful harbour, but no more beautiful than many another in these parts. It is, however a large, deep, well protected harbour, for which reason it was full of yachts, mostly unoccupied. It was hard to find a spot with swinging room.

We stayed in Puerto Lindo for several days, having our laundry done and doing some exploring ashore. We left the laundry and set out by bus to Portobelo, a few miles down the coast.

It's a beautiful place that I had visited with the first TIMESPINNER, when I had anchored there.

Portobelo (NOT Portobello--it was named by an Italian) used to be one of the most important harbours of the Spanish colonies, being a transshipment point for cargoes of gold and silver to Spain and, therefore a fabulously wealthy place. Its wealth attracted the attentions of Francis Drake, Henry Morgan and finally Admiral Vernon.

Today it´s a sleepy little place


with the remains of some splendid colonial architecture.

To walk around the ruined fortifications is an experience, for the views are wonderful.


I wanted to see it again, but the main motive for our visit was that we desperately needed to find a cash machine for we had been away from civilisation for weeks and we were out of money.

Well, we wandered around, bought one or two things but couldn't find a bank or cash machine. Finally we asked someone and were told that the nearest one was in a village some fifteen miles further down the coast, and we had missed the only bus, and besides, the bus back to Puerto Lindo was about to leave.

We were really out of money by now, having saved just enough to pay for our laundry. At least, so we thought. When we got there we found to our horror that we had misunderstood. The bill was twice what we had. The woman was nice about it. I'm not sure she believed our promises to see that she was paid (which we subsequently did) and refused the money we were able to offer, saying that we couldn't be without ANY money. Embarrassing.

Leaving Puerto Lindo, five hours of very pleasant sailing brought us to the breakwater at the entrance to the Panama Canal.


And this is a good place to end this chapter. Stay tuned.

TIMESPINNER'S TRAVELS CH. 14

7 March 2009

Note: Click on pictures to enlarge.

Os escribo desde un lugar tan lejano y tan perdido que no se si voy a ser capaz de transmitir la sensación de soledad que vivimos estos días. Se llama Puerto Permé, está en Panamá pegado a la frontera Colombiana donde vientos y mares acaban sus carreras Caribeñas.

Con el temporal de las ultimas semanas hay un mar de fondo impresionante y estamos cobijados en este lugar a la espera de días mejores. Somos 2 veleros, "Nausicaa" y "Timespinner", rodeados de estrechas playas blancas plantada de cocoteros. El agua es opaca de un verde claro lechoso. Aunque el mar a fuera esté "bravo", esto aquí parece un lago, tan protegidos estamos por las barreras de corales.Detrás de los cocos se perfilan colinas, montes y la lejana sierra de Darien.

Al bajar a tierra nos encontramos en el jardín de las delicias. Hectáreas de bananos, guineos, aguacates, mangos, yucas, limas y mucho mas al estado casi salvaje. Hay flores, mariposas y periquitos. Este desorden de abundancia pertenece al pueblo de los Pitufos (son mas bajitos que los Pigmeos) que se encuentra a unos minutos caminando. Es un bien municipal mantenido por todos.

Cada Pitufo tan bien tiene su campo en el monte. Salen de madrugada con las escopetas y las botas de goma contra las serpientes y vuelven con iguanas, monos o jabalís. Son de raza Kuna y valoran sus costumbres por encima de todo. Viven en la Comarca de Kuna Yala, al margen de Panamá.

No hay carreteras,electricidad, agua corriente o teléfonos y sus casas son de palmas y bambú. La economía local funciona a base de trueque y la externa depende de los marchantes Colombianos que , contra dólares, cargan cocos, plátanos, molas (especie de telas de arpillería) y el fruto del noni.

Los Pitufos son pacíficos, trabajadores y no nos hacen caso. Pero mejor, vamos a comentar las fotos.

To see where we've been in this chapter, see Fig. 1.

Foto 1:La frontera con Colombia esta en Puerto Obaldia y estamos entre Obaldia y Carreto. Ya hemos visitado Suledup, Pinos y Ustupu. Nos dirigimos al oeste para llegar a Colon en Abril y sacar el barco del agua y dejarlo aparcado hasta Octubre.

Leaving Cartagena, in company with the yachts ELEYTHERIA and NAUSICAA (the friends with whom we spent Christmas Eve) our first stop was Rosario Island, a place we had previously visited with Emily. At a convenient 15 nautical miles away, it made a good place to start. We were happy to be out of Cartagena, back in clear water for swimming and to scrub a black coating of airborne Cartaginian filth off everything. I also had to scrape a thick layer of barnacles off the bottom. Although our antifouling paint was only a few months old, the warm water full of, er, nutrients from the city, causes barnacles to grow like mad. I have never seen anything like it. Our friends were in a hurry to move on and did not wait an extra day while we scrubbed. We agreed to meet up at a little harbour next to Olbadia, the port of entry into Panama.

Our next stop was Tintipan in the San Bernardo Islands. It is roughly two and a half miles long, and uninhabited, although fertile. All the people, some 1500 (half under 15), live piled on top of one another on a tiny little island less than 500 feet (160m) across.

Fig. 2

Foto 2: Islas San Bernardo, Colombia. El Islote donde viven 1200 personas, lejos de los mosquitos de las islas alrededor. Descienden de esclavos huidos. Hicimos una proyección de fotos de nuestro viaje en casa del guarda de una de las casa de veraneo que se ven en foto 3.
Why? The mosquitoes are that ferocious! Tintipan would be a nice place to have a summer house but for the mosquitoes. Here is the solution to that problem.

Fig. 3
Foto 3: Hay una docena de casas sin mosquitos que pertenecen a gente de Medellin. Estos y un hotel son la mayor fuente de empleo local. Todo, absolutamente todo, desde el primer ladrillo al ultimo clavo viene en cayuco desde el continente.
There is quite a number of these "island houses" and they provide employment for many of the inhabitants of the village.

We stayed at Tintipan another day, just being lazy and enjoying the place, before heading off to join our friends and check into Panama.

Leaving Tintipan, there is a winding passage among coral reefs, which looked more frightening on the chart than it proved to be in reality. The wind was light, making navigation easy. Just as we cleared the reefs it piped up and we had to shorten sail, but were still zooming along and soon the sea began to rise. We received an e-mail from our friends saying that it had been too rough to go to the intended rendezvous and that they were in a well-protected anchorage behind Isla de Pinos. We decided to follow them. After a day and a night of lumpy seas we were happy to come around a point with waves breaking on either side to find the other yachts lying quietly at anchor off a picturesque village.

Isla de Pinos is one of a chain of tiny islands that lines the Panamanian coast all the way from the border with Columbia almost to the Panama Canal. These are the San Blas Islands, known by the natives as Kuna Yala: Kuna Land, where the Kunas live. They are a tribe of indians who put up such a vigorous defense of their way of life that the Panamanian government agreed to leave them alone. The result is that arriving in Kuna Yala feels like stepping into the pages of NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC magazine. There is no geographic reason for this. This is not one of those tribes you hear of, deep in the Amazon jungle only recently exposed to the 20th century. The Kunas have plenty of contact with the modern world: yachts, tourists who fly in, even cruise ship visits. They just like their primitive way of life and are determined to keep it. There is no electricity, no television, no cars and the means of transportation is the dugout canoe

Fig. 14

Foto 14: Vista de Anachucuna donde estuvimos refugiados 10 días, a la espera de una mejora del tiempo que no llego. Cansados de esperar preferimos afrontar los elementos. Tardamos 9:30 horas para hacer las 15 millas hasta Suledup.

Like other South American peoples they don't use wheels for anything, not even wheelbarrows. There is almost no economy; if you need a new canoe, you go into the forest and cut a tree.

Fig. 6

Foto 6: Además de sus piernas, esto es el medio de transporte del Kuna. Tumban un árbol en el monte y exculpen groseramente la forma de una canoa en su tronco antes de bajarlo a la playa entre 8 hombres, y acabar el trabajo. Hay que contar 4 meses mínimo para realizar toda la operación.

If you need food for the family you go and cut bananas,

Fig. 7

Foto 7: Antes de plantar plátanos, caña, mangos etc, hay que hacer un claro en la selva...y mantenerlo limpio. Se levantan con el día a las 5 de la mañana y regresan al pueblo a la 1, cargados de lo que encontraron ese día.

Fig. 8

Foto 8: Bajando del monte cargado con al menos 35 kg de guineos.

open coconuts

Fig. 9

Foto 9: Este fue a buscar cocos y después de quitarles la cascara, se los trae al pueblo, preparándose para venderlos al barco Colombiano cuando venga. Precio del mercado: 15 céntimos de US$ (llamado Balboa) la unidad.

take your canoe and go fishing,

Fig. 10

Foto 10: Por la tarde salen a pescar, a charlar con los amigos, reunirse en el Congreso (Caseta de palma donde se toman las decisiones que afectan la comunidad)

Or gather shellfish on the shore,

Fig. 11

Foto 11: Las mujeres salen a recoger lapas a marea baja.

Or go hunting.

Fig. 12

Foto 12: Este a matado un jabalí. Además de su escopeta, lleva su machete enfundado en la cintura y botas de goma para protegerse de las serpientes que abundan en el monte.

Occasionally you see a pig kept in captivity

Fig. 13

Foto 13: Los cerdos domésticos viven en una jaula en la orilla del mar para que la marea se lleve los excrementos. Las latrinas de los Pitufos funcionan del mismo modo.

and there are often chickens running around, although they don't often eat chicken, preferring fish, pork, monkey or iguana meat. You might call it a modified hunter-gatherer lifestyle.

What economy there is communistic at a community level. "Foreign exchange" is earned by exporting bananas and coconuts

Fig. 15

Fig. 16

Fig. 17

Fotos 15, 16 y 17: Ha llegado el Colombiano. Los hombres bajan del monte guineos y bananos y los cargan a bordo. Hemos calculado que el cayuco aguanta una carga de al menos una tonelada.

Fig. 18

Fig. 19

Fotos 18 y 19: El Colombiano también suministra las tiendas Kunas. Se puede subir a bordo y comprar tomates, cebollas y zanahorias importadas de Colombia.

The men dress like poor people everywhere: jeans, T-shirts and the ubiquitous baseball cap. Not so the women.

Fig. 20


Fig. 21
Fig. 22


Fig. 22Foto 20,21,22 y 23 : Vestido tradicional de las mujeres. Una camisa de amplias mangas, con molas cosidas delante y detrás, un pareo bicolor con motivos tradicionales y las "shakiras" de perlitas de vidrio que cubren piernas y brazos. El pelo (que llevan corto) cubierto con un paño de algodón rojo. Cada una se hace su ropa y sus shakiras. Las molas también se venden a los turistas.

Their uniform consists of a navy blue skirt or pareu, printed in a green pattern, a coloured blouse and a scarlet headscarf printed in a gold pattern. Individuality is expressed by a brightly-coloured, embroidered square on the front and back of the blouse. These squares are the only art of these people. They are made of several layers of bright cloth, cut out and embroidered in elaborate designs. They are much prized by foreigners and have become an important trading commodity. The women spend a good part of their time sitting sewing molas.

Fig. 23

(She is wearing a pair of our cast-off reading glasses--a godsend to these women who sew all day in dim light.) We were told that, before the missionaries brought them the Knowledge of Good and Evil, the women went bare-breasted and used to paint themselves in the same sort of complex designs. And, in fact, later, visiting a more traditional (read: backward) village, Marie and Frederica did find a number of women topless. They did not dare to take any photographs

because these people are very sensitive about photographs at the best of times.

Puberty comes early. Girls are usually married by twelve and by fifteen are often mothers of several children

Fig. 24

Foto 24: Muchas familias guardan periquitos como mascota.

It is quite evident that the Kuna population is exploding. They will have to deal with this very soon.

Inbreeding is another obvious problem. Albinos are common, as are mentally deficient people. It is hard to see how they can address this without changing radically the social structure.

Children are everywhere. While they do, of course, live with their families, they do, in a sense, belong to the whole community. They can wander wherever they like, secure in the knowledge that they will always be looked after. As a result, they are completely unafraid and not at all shy, which makes them quite delightful.

Fig. 25

Fotos 24, 25 y 26: Al contrario de los adultos que son bastante reservados, los niños son cariñosos y tienen mucha curiosidad.

Fig. 26

The houses (in fact, all buildings) are one-room huts with dirt floors. Roofs are of palm thatch, while exterior walls are a simple paling of bamboo, providing a degree of privacy but allowing enough light and ventilation to make windows unnecessary. Cooking is done over a fire on the floor and the smoke escapes through the walls. The only furniture is a few benches, roughly hacked out of solid logs and hammocks for sleeping and lounging. We decided that the life would be tolerable for a short time in the dry season, but in the wet, no thanks! We met a number of Kunas who had spent time in Panama, that is to say, in civilization, but who had happily returned. Poor and primitive this life may be, but it has dignity and is no doubt preferable to living in one of the slums around Colon.

We stayed a few days at Pinos, charmed by the beauty of the surroundings, the friendliness of the people and the sheer exoticism of the place.

Fig. 29

Foto 29: Una pausa en el camino de vuelta de la isla. Frederica fotografía los niños que jugaban en la orilla.

Fig. 30

Foto 30: Con Alberto de "Nausicaa" delante de una casa en Pinos.

Fig. 31

Fotos 31 y 32: Paseo de 3 horas alrededor de Isla Pinos.

Fig. 32

Fig. 33

Fotos 33 y 34: Anachucuna cerca de Puerto Perme.

Fig. 34

Our three ladies made a deal with a Kuna family to have a typical meal prepared for us, with their assistance so they could learn how to cook Kuna style. The menu consisted of a thick yellow stew of yams, pumpkin and coconut milk flavoured with smoked fish, assorted sea snails and other molluscs, boiled, and rice cooked in coconut milk. Coconut water to drink.

Fig. 37

Fig. 36

Fig. 38

Fotos 36, 37, 38: Cursillo de cocina en casa de la abuela de Chani.

Fig. 39

Foto 39: Menú: Sopa de auyama y yuca, Arroz con coco, lapas marinadas y chicha de coco.

To our tastes it was all a bit bland and lacking in salt, but with salt and a bit of lime juice it became delicious. We stuffed ourselves.

We might have stayed longer but we heard that there was to be a big celebration of the anniversary of the uprising in which they killed the Panamanians oppressing them and declared themselves to be an independent nation, though part of Panama. So the three yachts sailed to Ustupu, where it all happened, half a day's sailing.

Fig. 4

Foto 4: "Timespinner" saliendo de Ustupu con las banderas Kuna y Panameña.

We were provided with Kuna courtesy flags for the occasion, (the Spanish flag with a black swastika superimposed. It should be noted that the Kunas had the swastika first, long before Herr Hitler's National Socialism bunch gave it a bad name.

Fig. 5

Foto 5: En 1925 el pueblo Kuna se levanta contra Panamá,y después de una masacre obtienen el estatuto de Comarca. Imaginar nuestro asombro al ver la bandera que conmemora los hechos...
We found Ustupu a little lacking in charm after Pinos, possibly because the town is much larger.

Fig. 27

Foto 27: Aquí se ven los hombres de una familia pescando con sus hijos delante del pueblo.

The island is very close to the mainland and there is a constant busy traffic of canoes back and forth to the plots of land there, the rush hours being seven and twelve o'clock.

The independence celebrations lasted three days, with much gaiety and public drunkenness. The local brew is coconut water and sugar cane juice allowed to ferment for five days. It's called chicha fuerte and is only consumed during celebrations. The rest of the time the villages are completely dry, Coca Cola being the strongest beverage available. We wondered how they extracted cane juice without machinery. This is how.

Fig. 28

Foto 28: Un trapiche para caña. El jugo servirá para hacer "chicha fuerte".

The festivities began with a big meeting of chiefs, or sailas. These hold absolute authority and are democratically chosen in some way, three per village, serving until their rule becomes unpopular. As well as rulers, they are spiritual leaders and healers. They dress with long-sleeved shirts, trilby-type hats and sunglasses.

Fig. 35

Foto 35: El Saila (jefe) de Pinos invitado a almorzar. Viene, se sienta, come y se va sin decir una palabra.

Fig. 40

Fig. 41

Fig. 43

Fig. 44

Fig. 45

Fotos 40 a 45: Los Kunas tenían un antiguo tratado de paz con Colombia. A la creación del canal, Panamá se independizó y de paso anexo los territorios Kuna. Después de 10 años de abusos del ejército Panameño, los indios se revelaron de forma violenta y después de un gran baño de sangre firmaron un nuevo tratado donde los Panameños se comprometieron a respectar su identidad y cultura. Desde entonces tienen poco contacto con los que llaman "los latinos". Todos los 25 de Febrero se conmemora los hechos con una gran actuación en la plaza de Ustupu.

To see the climax we should have gone ashore at five in the morning, but we had all had enough and stayed in bed, awakened by a lot of bangs and shouting and cheering.

A good part of the audience consisted of children, who watched with rapt attention.

Fig. 42

It would seem that this annual, rather bloody enactment is important for the maintenance of Kuna-ness--to remind the people of who they are to guard against all the modern influences that must be undermining the traditional culture to some extent.

We had had enough, so instead of watching the end of the pageant we went with Frederica in NAUSICAA's powered dinghy up a river on the mainland, there to give our laundry and ourselves a good scrub in fresh water.

Fig. 46

Fig. 47

Fig. 48

Fotos 46 a 48: Hay muchos ríos con aguas impolutas (y muchos mosquitos) donde uno se puede bañar, lavarse el pelo y lavar la ropa. La mano corre del champú a la crema anti mosquito, pasando por el detergente.

We had by this time been in Panamanian waters for a couple of weeks but had not yet checked in with the authorities, so we headed south towards the Colombia-Panama border, where there is a port of entry, Obaldia. This is a bad place to anchor, so we found a lovely little sheltered bay a few miles away, intending to hop across in the morning, get ourselves legal and return. However, the next morning the sea was breaking heavily on the coral and the weather forecast showed that there was worse to come.

Fig. 53

Several days later it showed an improvement, so we sailed over to Obaldia to find great rollers entering the quite unsheltered harbour and breaking heavily on the shore. No place for us and we hauled over to the other tack and got out of there. Obaldia, it seems, is only visitable in the calmest of weather, which doesn't appear to happen very often. We took some pictures to show that we tried and will plead extenuating circumstances when we do finally find a port of entry.

The place where have taken refuge, Puerto Perme, is perfectly protected and would have made a much better port of entry.

Fig. 49

Fig. 50

In fact, there evidently was an attempt made to develop it. The rotted remains of two substantial jetties, the foundations of some demolished concrete buildings and even the rusting remains of an antique steam engine offer mute evidence.

Fig. 51

Nobody could tell us what happened. We theorize that it was pre-1925 and that after independence and the fierce ethnic cleansing that followed, the works of the hated foreigners were destroyed. Indeed, we have seen concrete buildings among the thatched huts in other Kuna villages. These are never occupied but are left derelict.

Our time holed up in Puerto Perme was not wasted as there are some very scenic walks from there,

Fig. 52

and it gave us time to write most of this chapter.

Fotos 49 a 53: Vistas de nuestro privilegiado refugio de Puerto Perme, a la espera de una mejora en el tiempo.

FRANÇAIS

Nous sommes bloqués depuis 5 jours dans la très jolie et petite baie de Perme, à côté du village Kuna d'Anachucuna. Dehors, les éléments sont déchaînés et la gigantesque houle qui traverse la mer des Caraïbes, s'écrase avec rage sur les récifs coralliens Panaméens, avant d'éparpiller ses brides dans toutes le directions. (ph. 52, 53) En effet, il y a eu de grosses tempêtes au large du Venezuela et 3 jours plus tard nous recevons cette houle débridée qui vient se heurter contre l'isthme, provocant une mer chaotique et dangereuse. Nous en avons encore pour 2 ou 3 jours d'après la météo. Nous en profitons donc pour commencer le 14eme Blog de notre voyage.

Nous avons quitté Cartagena en compagnie de deux autres bateaux:
"Eleytheria" avec Peter et Brenda (Argentine- Canada) et "Nausicaa" avec Alberto et Frederica (Italie-France) à leur bords, pour nous rendre d'abord aux Rosarios pour nettoyer les bateaux après des mois dans un port et pouvoir nager dans de l'eau transparente et propre.

L'étape suivante était aux Iles toujours Colombiennes de San Bernardo. Comme nous voulions nous y attarder et que nos amis avaient hâte de continuer, nous nous sommes donnés rendez-vous à Sapsurro, le dernier village avant Panama.

San Bernardo est un autre archipel protégé par une efficace barrière de corail, où les riches habitants de Medellin viennent se prélasser en famille (et peut-être calmer leurs nerfs) dans de superbes villas construites sur des rochers en pleine mer!
(ph. 3) L'île principale (4km x 1.2km), Tintipan, est couverte de Cocotiers et de mangrove et INFESTEE de moustiques. Pour se protéger de ces derniers, tant les habitants comme les vacanciers de Medellin se sont réfugiés en mer. L'Ilot (ph. 2) abrite 1200 descendants d'esclaves (dont 600 enfants) sur un rocher de 125m de diamètre!

Alors que nous sortions de la protection des coraux, nous recevions un mail de nos amis disant que les conditions atmosphériques rendaient l'étape de Sapsurro impossible, qu'ils allaient sur Pinos au Panama (ph. 1) et qu'ils feraient leur entré à Porvenir à 80 MN au NW. Le mouillage de Isla Fuerte, où nous nous dirigions étant réputé mauvais, nous décidons donc de les rejoindre à Pinos et faire notre entré à Porlamar plutôt qu'à la frontière où c'est difficile par mauvais temps.

Ici je dois interrompre mon récit, car Frederica qui est descendue à terre me dit par la VHF qu'il y a une famille qui nous permet de venir faire la lessive dans le ruisseau derrière leur
hutte où coule une eau limpide. Ils ont également du coriandre. (ph. 48, autre lessive ailleurs)

Voilà, je suis de retour. C'est au lavoir qu'elle nous a menées, et pas derrière chez elle, mais à un km, près du village. C'est plutôt un gros ruisseau qu'une rivière: 30cm d'eau et un faible courant. Un homme qui passait nous demande ce que nous faisions là et, une fois renseigné, nous "accorde la permission".

Ils ont installé 2 tables-lavoir faite de vieux canoës autour des quelles 2 femmes s'affairaient déjà énergiquement. Les enfants, armés d'écuelles, s'aspergeaient timidement en faisant leur toilette. D'autres femmes sont arrivées, seaux à la main et enfants à la hanche. Elles ne nous accordent pas un regard et se mettent au travail silencieusement. Nous les imitons (en bavardant).
On étend le linge sur la planche et on frotte au savon et à la brosse puis on jette les vêtements en amont et ils reviennent doucement vers vous, plus où moins rincés. Les femmes terminent par se laver elles-mêmes. Se produisent alors de grandes scènes classiques de Dianes sortant du bain, les paréos moulant les corps, entourées de bébés et de linges colorés. C'est superbe! Irrésistible! Mais d'un bref échange de regards, nous décidons de ne pas sortir nos appareils de photos et de profiter du moment avec toute notre attention car elles nous avaient oubliées. Nos appareils auraient tout gâché.

En repartant nous constatons que cette belle eau pure qui descend droit de la forêt équatoriale a servit, un méandre plus haut, à la toilette des hommes! Notre eau était donc souillées de sueurs, pipis, crachats et morve. S'était un samedi, jour de lessive et toilette. Et en plus, nous n'avons pas eu de coriandre!!!!!!

Bon, retour à nos moutons. Nous sommes arrivés à Pinos il y a 3 semaines et nous y avons retrouvé nos amis. Un jeune kuna du nom de Chani s'est offert comme guide et nous a montré son île, son village, sa famille et nous a présenté au Saila.

Le saila est le guide spirituel de la communauté. Il parle en métaphores et est suivi d'un interprète. Il siège au fond d'un hamac au centre du Congreso, (grande hutte municipale). Il est élu démocratiquement pour guider et juger aidé d'un conseil d'anciens et de rares, très rares, universitaires. Ici le civil est Kuna et le criminel est Panaméen. Ils appliquent leurs lois tribales sur le mariage, l'héritage, la propriété, l'adoption, etc. Le châtiment se paie en journées de travail pour la communauté en plus du dédommagement à la victime. C'est le Saila qui décide si un étranger est bienvenu et quelle est la taxe à appliquer. Dans notre cas, 5$ par personne nous ont permis de mouiller devant le village, faire des photos, faire la promenade du tour de L'île, bénéficier d'une leçon de cuisine suivie d'un déjeuner chez la grand-mère de Chani.

Le tour de L'île (ph. 7, 29, 31, 32) était superbe et Chani connaissait bien les plantes, leur usage et leur culture. Il nous a montré la guanabana et le noni à l'état sauvage parmi beaucoup d'autres choses.

La leçon de cuisine (ph. 36, 37, 38) était très intéressante et nous (les femmes) avons préparé sous les ordres de la grand-mère, une soupe au potiron et yuca, du riz au lait de coco, des coquillages et du poisson fumé, le tout arrosé de chicha d'eau de noix de coco verte. (ph. 39) C'était délicieux et Chani en a même profite pour inviter le Saila et son inséparable Traducteur. (ph. 35)

Les photos ont été plus problématiques parce que les Kunas se vendent à 1$ le déclic. Ça devient vite chérot et en plus, ils se raidissent et prennent un air solennel pour les femmes ou font le V de la victoire pour les hommes. On a donc le chois entre 3 solutions; les charmer, negocier un cadeau (photophore, chique, sac zip lock),les photographier en cachette. J'ai essayé les 3, mais finalement c'est la dernière solution que j'ai retenue. C'est sportif et risqué et il faut agir vite. L'inconvénient est qu'ils sont toujours pris le dos tourné! (ph. 12, 19, 20) Le charme et le troc sont fatigants à la longue et n'évident pas la pose figée (ph. 23) et le regard perdu vers l'éternité.

De Pinos Chani nous a mene à une île à 3 heures de mer au NW, Ustupu, où se préparait un grand spectacle annuel, recréant les moments les plus dramatiques de la révolte de 1925. Nous étions priés de battre pavillon Kuna (sous peine d'amande) pour notre entré à Ustupu. Ok, très bien, nous commandons 4 drapeaux (un médecin Canadien et Mme se joignent à nous) et quelle n'est pas notre surprise de voir arriver des croix gammées sur fond de couleurs espagnoles! (ph.5) C'est un symbole de paix et prospérité qu'ils ont adopte en 1925 quand ils sont devenus la "Comarca de Kuna Yala" c'est à dire la Région Autonome Du Peuple Kuna. Nous naviguons donc depuis un mois avec les pavillons Canadien, Panaméens, la croix gammée et le Q flag jaune (qui indique que nous n'avons toujours pas pu faire notre entré réglementaire dans le pays). Un vrais arbre de Noël.

L'interprétation dramatique des événements de 25 attire les indiens de toute la Région. Les acteurs revivent les faits avec passion, entourés d'un publique très critique et participatif. On se lamente, on hue, on rit et on taquine ses connaissances suivant le cas, car évidement ils sont tous apparentés. (ph. 42)

En gros, voici ce qui se passe: l'armée Panaméenne les brutalise extorque, viole et bafoue leur culture constamment. On montre les indiens travaillant (récolte de bananes, pêche) et se relaxant (fumant, buvant la chicha fuerte et draguant) et les soldats Panaméens volant bananes et poissons, piétinant les bols de chicha, cassant les pipes et violant leurs belles avant de les torturer et les lyncher. (ph. 40, 41, 43, 44, 45) Nélé Cantulé est un jeune homme courageux et épris de justice. Il fomente la révolte en prêchant la dignité du peuple Kuna. La violence éclate. On massacre les soldats Panaméens et on sacrifie les métis, souvent produit du viol. Conseil de chefs, demande d'aide aux américains. L'armée Panaméenne s'apprête à user de représailles mais elle se heurte à une frégate US envoyée (de la base du canal) par le président des US pour protéger les indiens. S'en suit la création d'une constitution et de la Comarca Kuna Yala.

La pièce dure des heures et est inlassablement commentée, en Kuna et Español pour notre bénéfice, par un "historien" qui hurle les faits héroïques à plein poumons dans un micro mal réglé.

Conclusion: nous somme soulages pour une fois de ne pas être les méchants de l'histoire, et sans rapport, les similitudes avec la très proche guérilla Colombienne, ne nous ont pas échappées.

Les villages Kunas se resemblent tous. Les maisons du sud San Blas sont faites de palmes decocotier, les rues de sable fin et on s'attend a voir surgir Tintin, Asterix ou obelix ou tout au moins un Shtroumpf a chaque coin de rue.

A Ustupu, le groupe se sépare. Le médecin et Mme. remontent vers le N, plus commercial mais ou l'eau est plus transparente, les argentins ont des problèmes de réfrigération et retournent réparer à Cartagena, et nous optons, avec les Italiens, de passer douane et police à Obaldia, au SE.

Le mouillage à Obaldia est très exposé et il est conseillé d'aller à Perme, à 5 M, et attendre les conditions favorables (Ph.14,51,52,33,34). Après 10 jours et une tentative ratée, nous sommes toujours dans l'illégalité. Nous allons dons abandonner et tenter notre chance à Porvenir, à l'autre extrémité de Kuna Yala. C'est plus touristique et accessible depuis Colon et nous trouverons peut être une salle d'ordinateurs dans une école. Ils sont entrain d'installer des satellites sur les îles les plus importantes.

Voilà, il nous reste encore la côte du golf de San Blas à Colon à parcourir et nous devrions le faire avant le 15 avril. En effet nous voulons parquer le bateau au sec jusqu'en Octobre et rentrer a la maison.