May 20, 2018 – May 25, 2018

We had been told to meet our captain and the crew at a nearby restaurant at 5pm on Sunday, May the 20th.  We had visited the restaurant the day before and they told us that it was not pet friendly….the owner has 7 dogs and she said her dogs would EAT Piper….so, we left Piper (temporarily) with the gracious owner of Wunderbar Hostel where we had stayed the last two nights. We then went and met up with the people we would be living in close quarters with for the next five days.

Introductions were made, drinks and food were ordered, and after a few hours of small talk, it was time to head out to the sail boat. Derek quickly ran back, retrieved Piper and the last of our luggage (because Piper is always more comfortable if there is something of ours left behind to guard) and we all loaded into a local water taxi panga and motored out in the dark to the Amande which was anchored offshore about a half kilometre away.  For those of you who know a bit about sailboats, the Amande is an “Atolle 6”, 15 metres in length and can accommodate 14.

We had read many mixed reviews about sailing from Panama to Colombia.  Since the boats tend to cater to budget travellers there is a broad quality spectrum. Sometimes captains overbook the sailings, forcing passengers to sleep on deck, the galley countertops or other random spots at night.  Other captains really enjoy their rum and run serious party boats even on the night time crossings which has on occasion spelt trouble.  People also regularly get seasick, the food can be skimpy or unappealing.  Or any combination of these things. Alternatively, you can have a professional captain, great food, amazing sea life spotting, good weather, minimal seasickness and a trip of a lifetime.  We were really hoping for the latter scenario, obviously.

We were greeted on board by our captain, Daniel, a.k.a. “Dingo”, an Australian, who on this sailing was being accompanied by his wife, their 7 month old baby, and his parents (good signs….).  As it turns out, this was going to be Dingo’s last sailing as he was moving with his young family back to Australia where he was going to continue his teaching career.

We were given the ins and outs of life onboard and shown to our berths.  Dingo was going to begin sailing to the Kuna Yala islands (the traditional and now again accepted name for what the Spaniards had called the San Blas islands) at about 11pm that evening and as this particular stretch of water could get a bit rough, we were asked to keep the windows in our rooms closed until morning.

Derek and I had paid a bit extra for a double berth with ensuite so that Piper could spend the night below deck with us.  We settled in, turned on the provided fans, and soon the motors started up and we were on our way.  Our berth next to the little diesel engine was pretty hot and loud, and the boat rolled and rocked as we tried to sleep.

But we did sleep, and we awoke to a quiet boat gently lolling in the sea one or two hundred metres off shore of a few small islands.  We emerged slowly from our respective berths to be greeted by Galy, our onboard chef, originally from France.  She had coffee waiting….yeah.  We ate, then the First Mate, Cesar, from Argentina, took Derek, Cesar’s dog Pepa and our dog Piper over to a nearby island occupied by a few government buildings and a small airstrip to do their business.  The rest of us dove, jumped, or slipped into the warm water and soon the group decided to swim over to the island where Derek and the dogs strolled.

The rest of the morning was spent enjoying the view, swimming, kayaking, and getting to know each other.

Besides the crew that I have already mentioned was Johannes, a native of the Kuna Yala islands and also a cousin to Dingo’s wife.  Johannes had a few years experience on sailboats and would like one day to be the captain of a boat.  He was always very gracious, friendly, genuinely concerned with the welfare of the guests on board and worked hard. The guests included Dingo’s wife Lena who had grown up in these islands and their baby girl, Anna and Paul, Dingo’s parents from Port Lincoln, Australia, Fred and Anne, young professional in their twenties from Montreal and Quebec City (soon to be just Quebec City as they are moving in together), Jorn and Wanda, a couple of young professionals, also in their twenties, from Holland, Lisa, recently accepted to a MSc program in neuroscience, also in her twenties, from Holland, and Julien, an intrepid and adventurous traveller, of about 40 who had cycled from California on a cool electrically assisted bicycle, from Belgium.  English, Spanish, French and Dutch were heard throughout the trip. Everyone helped others to communicate and we were soon getting to know each other.  There always seemed to be someone nearby who knew enough of a common languages to help out with a translation.

Later in the day, we motored to a set of islands where Lena’s grandfather (97 years old!) lives.  On the way we got to see dolphins playing off of the bow of the boat.  Once there, we were shuttled to the small island to walk among the homes and meet some of the Kuna people.  We met a young girl of 11, who had just started her first menstruation, and, as their tradition has it, would be required to stay within the walls of her home for the next month, a kind of rite of passage into womanhood.  We watched men using an adze to create a new dug out canoe.  We watched children play.  We were shown a young turtle that was being cared for before being released back into the ocean.  We saw areas where the shavings from dug out canoes are being used as fill to raise the level of the land and where logs, derelict boats, old pieces of steel and other debris were being used to stave off the effects of climate change and rising oceans which are a very real thing in these islands. As you can see, they do not have a lot of room on these islands to lose to high water.

 

Dingo had given us an article from a sailing magazine that spoke about the Kuna people.  They are a matriarchal society, and they live in these islands in much the way they have for years.  For me, one of the interesting bits in the article was about how, when there is a decision to be made, everyone in the community gets a say in what they think should happen, and some people are very long winded in their speeches.  So, they have individuals at these meetings whose job it is to let out a loud, ear splitting howl every few minutes so that people do not fall asleep….very useful….

We spent the night at anchor, and the next morning, all of the tourists (except for me and Piper) loaded into the tender to a nearby peninsula of Panama, where they were shuttled part way up a tiny stream coming out of the mangroves, then they hiked for 30 or 40 minutes first through thick black organic muck and then muddy rainforest to where men from the village we had visited the day before were gathering food for an upcoming feast.

I had stayed behind to watch Piper, but also because I had not brought appropriate clothing for the outing (closed shoes, long socks, preferably some pants).  Piper had not been to land that morning yet, so after we saw the others off, I borrowed the kayak and took the two dogs to the island that we had visited the day before.  The dock I chose to paddle to was at about my shoulder level as I sat in the kayak.  I got the two dogs out of the kayak and up on the dock, then as I was putting the paddle in a safe place on the boat, the kayak drifted away from the dock so out came the paddle again.  I thought I should tie the kayak to the dock before getting out, then put the paddle away again, I struggled to get the rope around something to tie it to, and floated back out a few feet again.   A Kuna woman took pity on me and came out to the dock, she quickly had the kayak secured and helped me up and out of the kayak. It was terribly ungraceful.  I do not know the word for “land lubber” in the Kuna language, but it would have been an appropriate comment at the time.  Her kindness was rewarded by the two dogs pooping on her small piece of grass…I did pick it up, but still….

Back on the boat, I hung out on the shady side of the boat deck with Piper.  Lena came out with the baby, and we talked about what we could with my limited Spanish.  She was very patient and helped me find the words I needed, and asked me how to say a few things in English.  She speaks her native language and Spanish, and I think has more English than she lets on.  I wonder how she will do in Australia, so far away from the Kuna people and the islands she has grown up in, but she is young, smart and pretty and she will have Dingo and his family there in Australia to help with the transition.

The others returned, and most jumped right from the tender into the water, clothes and all.  It had been quite a hike, some of the participants having fallen waist deep into thick, muddy mangrove water.  They returned with bananas, manioc root, and sugarcane.

That afternoon we motored to another island, this one starkly different in that it had only one hut on it.  We swam and kayaked to shore and snorkelled in the clear warm water. There were some excellent corals with their attendant, colourful fish.  Derek, Piper and I also walked around the island, maybe a 20 minute journey.

Back at the sailboat, Lisa and I decided to take the kayak to a neighbouring island to see if we could buy some beer.  When we got there, we were greeted by a person who had obviously been born male but was living life as a female.  Transgender males are commonly accepted in Kuna culture and are a product of nature and nurture in this society.  She told us they didn’t have beer. We got back in the kayak to head back to the boat, but not before following a sting ray through the shallow waters.

We ended up anchoring near this same island that evening.  In the morning, Cesar took the dogs to the island, people swam, we had another great breakfast thanks to Galy, and then motored for a few hours to another set of islands.  There we snorkelled, some of the group played volleyball, we hung out in hammocks, kayaked, and then had a huge aside ( assorted meat barbecue).  We returned to the boat to shower, and change, then some of the group went back to the island for a fire and party, including coco loco (coconuts filled with rum), agility/core strength games and dancing lessons, while others remained on the sailboat to relax and enjoy some quieter moments or on-deck showers.  On the island, Derek won a game where you need to plant your feet, then, with a 750ml glass bottle in each hand, walk your hands as far out in front of you on the sand, as you can, plant one bottle, then make it back to standing with the other bottle.  Upon winning the game someone asked….”Are you sure you are not twenty five?” he later told me his soreness reminded him he was definitely closer to 55.

That night, we were told that we would begin the 36 hour crossing to Cartagena, Colombia around 11pm.  The captain was expecting it to be a fairly gentle crossing, so we could have our windows open if we wanted to…ahhh, much better with a slight breeze.

The next day was spent entirely at sea, with no land in sight the entire day.  People read, slept, sunbathed, drank beer.  Several of the passengers were seasick to some degree or another; fortunately neither Derek nor I (nor Piper) had any problems.  The crew were offering dunks in the water off the front of the boat as we cruised , and set up a swing at the back of the boat.

 

Captain Dingo had told us that on our final morning at sea, that if we got up at about 4 a.m.,  the moon would have set and it would be dark enough to see the bioluminescent algae (google images of it if you don’t know about it, the photos are amazing).  I had always wanted to see this, so we set our alarm for 4 am.  When it went off, Derek was not so interested, but I went up on deck and did get to see some blue green light flashing anywhere where the water was disturbed by the boat, although it was not a great display.  I stayed up and watched the sunrise over the ocean.  A few hours later, we began to see the high-rise towers of Cartagena.

And so, we had an amazing trip.  Great captain, great crew, great food, fine boat and a really nice mix of very interesting people.  Dingo had said at the beginning of the trip, that 5 days on a boat together is like 5 months on land, and I now know what he means.  Living in such a small space, you can’t help but get to know the people on board in a way that you wouldn’t have, had we been hanging around a pool all day in a resort somewhere.

The trip was everything we had hoped for and more, and will definitely be one of the highlights of our trip.

P.S.  For anyone that is interested in such a trip, we booked it through Blue Sailing, which is an agency that specializes in hooking up backpackers and other budget travellers with ships and captains sailing between Panama and Colombia.  Derek and I paid $650 US each for a private double berth with ensuite toilet, and that included the 5 days of sailing and all of our food.  If you are willing to sleep in bunk beds and share a toilet, or if you end up on another boat, it can be cheaper.  Our berth was small, with only about 4 or 5 square feet of floor space, but there were shelves for clothing, two small fans for air flow, an ensuite toilet and sink, and a queen sized bed…a luxury in comparison to the smaller bed in our camper!