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.
