See You Later

Off to explore Panama City for a couple of days...

Back soon :-)

Chasing Butterflies, Finding Monkeys.

Once I had finished the varnishing, and Frieda had cleared up the breakfast dishes, we decided to take the path to San Lorenzo.  It was a lovely sunny, breezy morning, ideal for a long walk.  I was quite determined to find and photograph the Panama butterfly, I have seen one twice now, but I've been unable to catch one on film.  This is possibly not the best time of year to look for them because there are no flowers, but that wasn't about to deter me.
We sprayed ourselves liberally with OFF, filled our water bottles and headed out.  The jungle was very quiet, almost creepily so, we didn't see any butterflies, or birds, or anything for some time, then I spotted something high up in the trees, "is that a monkey?" I asked Frieda, "OH yes" she said excitedly, it was laying across the crook between two branches, just sleeping; excitedly I started clicking away with my camera while Frieda jumped up and down making loud monkey noises (quite scary) I think I was far more worried than the monkey, who contentedly carried on sleeping, totally unperturbed by the two idiots underneath the tree.
After about ten minutes of Frieda's frantic monkey impersonation's we decided to move on.  We only moved about three steps before we spotted another monkey in the tree, then another and another and another, the tree was full of them, all draped over the branches sleeping or sitting up looking directly at the two of us, probably wondering what the hell we were; not that its easy to read a monkey's expression, but I would say they all looked either confused or concerned by Frieda's behavior.  We both started clicking frantically with our cameras, while the monkeys continued to sit up in the safety of their tree with a bored expression on their little faces.

After about 500 pictures Frieda's camera ran out of battery.  We continued our walk and almost reached the river when suddenly there was this ear piercing, straight out of a horror movie scream.  We both stopped and looked at each other with horror "mon Dieu" Frieda exclaimed "what can that be?" We stood in silence for a minute before we heard it again, this time it sounded closer, "Ohhh lets go look" I said excitedly, Frieda's expression was one I really wish I could have captured on film, it could never be repeated.  "It must be a big one" she said in genuine wide eyed horror.  "No don't be silly there are no big monkeys here" I said," lets go and see", and immediately started walking back in the direction of the piercing scream, Frieda jumped behind a bush to hide.  Eventually she came out and followed me at a safe distance as I made my way stealthily back towards the noise, all the time wondering what I was going to do if something large and hairy with big teeth jumped out, my imagination was running in top gear again..  "But what happens if they attack us?" Frieda said with genuine concern.  I laughed (hoping it wouldn't be  my last)
As we approached the monkey tree Frieda pointed up and said "look it's only the little ones, they make the noise!"  Sure enough the little monkeys were the ones making the scary loud noise, and as we stood under the tree listening to them I felt quite silly. They were howler monkeys, one of the loudest creatures on earth.

The little baby

Jungle Noises

So here we are at Shelter Bay Marina, Colon, Panama, it's 6:45am and I'm sitting up on deck enjoying the lovely cool morning breezes (shivering actually).  My trusty Mac is on my lap and I'm playing around on facebook looking to see what other sad idiots are also up at this God forsaken hour. We boat folk seem to keep unearthly hours. I'm patiently waiting for the rain to stop spitting and the wood to dry so I can start sanding again.  I did all my laundry at 5:00am so I'm already ahead of the game.

It's just starting to get light, and the noises from the jungle are giving me goosebumps, they sound decidedly spooky. I glance across to the edge of the misty jungle, just a stone's throw from the dock, and contemplate running back down below and locking all the hatches, the noises are causing my imagination to run riot.  Visions of enormous hairy creatures with razor sharp teeth and foaming at the mouth, leaping out the trees and landing on Daisy are quite vivid in my sad little mind.  This is what happens when you spend too much time on a boat.

Happy Days in the San Blas

I try to distract myself with more facebook twaddle, it's not really working...
My bites are finally healing, well at least I think they are, or it could be that I simply have so many I've just become immune to them, poor Frieda is now covered in them too, but she has more control than me and doesn't scratch.

The two of us are off to Panama City soon, for a few days sightseeing, and shopping (no husbands around to curtail our spending, hehehe) and on a more serious note (because my husband may read this) hopefully more material for the blog.

The hairy ones have left the marina now, the turquoise thong clad Frenchman is nowhere in sight, but I do still have the one with the watermelons around.  I was talking to my Mum on skype yesterday when she bounced past in a little see through number, it was quite disturbing, we're not talking Twiggy here!

When Bob returns next week we head back to the San Blas for some real vacation time and hopefully more entertainment from the other yachties.  I love boat people, they're a special breed, a colorful group of folk that unknowingly provoke my dark side, and provide me with endless material for my blog.

Joan Rivers will have nothing on me, should I happen to continue along my recent path of blogging humor at the expense of the Innocent and un-suspecting within the boating community.
I could soon be the most hated person afloat, in fact if I don't change my writing style soon, I may not float at all,  but then if my book becomes as popular as my blog I'll have so much money I won't have to worry about it (see I really do live in La La land)

Font

To the person who read my blog on 'Thieves in Caya de Agua' and asked me to change my font to something easier to read.
 I apologize, when I wrote that particular blog I was experimenting with different fonts, you will probably notice that since then I only use only 'Papyrus, or Times New Roman.
Thank you for your comment, I am happy to make changes to suit my readers, and thank you for following my blog.
Heather :-)

The Joy of Varnishing

This morning I was up again before dawn to sand the toe rail ready for another coat of varnish.  By 7:15, I was finished sanding, and all cleaned up ready to put the next coat on.  It was a lovely morning with blue sky and sunshine, at 8:45 I think its ok to start, it doesn't look like rain.  I get 1/4 of the way along then the marina gardener arrives; Daisy is the first on the dock next to the mangroves and the gardens,  the gardener starts up the brush cutter, and before I can blink grass and dust is flying everywhere.

Frieda went over to ask him if he would mind cutting the far side first because of the wet varnish, he moved maybe 5 feet, not enough to make a difference, I see all the bits landing on my nice varnish, so then Frank arrives (the dock master)  he immediately sees the problem and asks the man to please move, so he does and I carry on to finish the rest of the varnishing.

I have not even finished cleaning my brush when it suddenly starts to rain, for just 30 seconds we have a downpour, barely enough to make anything wet, but enough to ruin my varnish... I was so mad, but then I would probably have had to re-do it anyway because of all the dust from the gardener.
 OH I just love boat life!

Boat Life...

Before the sun had even risen this morning, I was at the marina laundry, I only have two wash loads, but if I am any later than 5:45 the machines are all taken.  There are several hundred boats here, many of them lived on.  The marina has 4 washing machines (2 of them out of action) and 4 dryers (1 out of action) so doing laundry is a bit of a challenge.  I am one of the lucky ones, I have a washing machine on board, but I don't like to put the soapy water out into the marina so I don't use it here.

So I'm sitting here waiting for my laundry and wondering what I can write about today.  I see the other women come running into the laundry with their bags full of washing, hoping they have arrived early enough, only to discover the machines already in use.

They are very nice, the ladies I meet here, many are like me reluctant sailors, living the life because its the husbands dream.   A few women, although I have only met 1 or 2 are doing it because it's their dream.

We're a funny bunch, I guess living the way we do is bound to make us a little odd.  It's funny how easily you can tell the yachties (my name for people who live on sailboats) from the people on the motorboats.  The yachties are usually stick thin (sadly I'm the exception here) with either long hair tied back (both men and women) or hair cut boyishly short, or shaved, usually its only the men that have shaved heads, but who knows out here anything goes.

The motorboat lot are far smarter (visually) the women have nice hair cuts, and their clothes are usually pressed, they wear jewelry, and are seen ashore in shoes, where as yachties are almost always barefoot, and generally can't afford jewelry.

Fashion is something that definitely takes a back seat for us, there's no room on a sail boat for couture; our clothes are usually crumpled, or so tight fitting it doesn't matter, mine tend to be a mix of both, crumpled from being stuffed and crushed in a drawer, or tight fitting because I have been overindulging in the local culinary delights. Also we sweat, which means we usually look as though we have just stepped out of the shower fully clothed, there is absolutely no use here for fine clothes. I spend most of my days in a sarong.

Yachties are easy going, free spirits, who have thrown caution and conventional life styles out the window in order to embrace freedom, adventure and exploration.  It's nice, the freedom with which we live our lives.  Our plans are never set in stone, the weather changes everything, it dictates where we go and when, how long we stay in one place, or move on, we are like water gipsy's.

Most of us live on our boats all the time, and work very hard to maintain them, the environment in which we live is very harsh, between the smoldering hot sun, salt air and sea water, it takes everything we have to keep our boats sea worthy, and looking good.  We are a friendly, helpful, interesting collection of people, everyone has endless interesting, funny, frightening, jaw-droping tales to tell.

Then we have the cat people; (people who have moved to the dark side!)  A catamaran provides much more space, more creature comforts, it doesn't heel like a sail boat (which must be lovely),  you can have crystal glasses to drink from, more room inside, more light, bigger beds, they are much more comfortable in every way, and OH so nice, but they are (so I'm told) not real sail boat's!
I think if you want to travel the Caribbean or anywhere else, a catamaran will do it for you in the most luxuriously comfortable style, but if you are one of the die hard sailors, who just loves to sail (ie Bob) a catamaran just doesn't cut it. :-(

Although I long to have a house again, I realize that once I do I will not have anything very interesting to write about.  Through my blog I have over 3000 readers now (thank you), so everyone obviously enjoys reading what I write.  However, once I'm back on dry land I doubt that I will have anything to tell that will interest anyone.

I love it here in Shelter Bay, despite the bloody mosquitoes, that I have yet to see (they are invisible)! I'm eating copious amounts of garlic now to hopefully fend them off, I think that perhaps when Bob returns next week he too will keep his distance from me.

The Hairy Ones!

So today, I barely know where to begin, I am quite stuck for words (unusually).
 
Frieda and I are working on the boat cleaning, I am working very hard to take my mind off all the bloody mosquito bites, kneeling on the dock scrubbing the deck cushions and people walk along the dock and see me and gasp "OMG what happened to you?"
My legs are so bad, I look disgusting, I want to cry, then a lady Frieda met at the airport came past and stopped to chat with Frieda, she looks at my legs and says "what happened?"  as if it isn't bloody obvious, "mosquitoes" I replied,  "OH I never get bitten" she said smiling smugly, I wonder at her reply, is that supposed to make me feel better?
My legs are cleanly shaven, and I use skin cream to keep my skin soft, so perhaps I am just too tasty to resist for the mosquitoes, then I pay a little more attention to her, she is in a shoestring tank top and shorts, and has more hair than a gorilla.  I have never seen such a hairy woman, all over her legs, back and front and as far up as... well fortunately I can't see that far, perhaps she has to tuck the hair into pockets, long hair under her arms, ugh it was truly disgusting, no wonder the mosquitoes don't bite her it must be like trekking through a jungle, especially when they have me just down the dock all cleanly shaved and soft, it makes their work easy.
Then the husband arrives, he has more hair than ZZ Top, huge beard, long gray hair down his back, so much hair I can hardly see his face, when he speaks I can't even see the mouth move.
As much as I am in pain, and itch, and can't sleep I will continue to shave and moisturize, because Heaven forbid I should ever look so hairy!

OH for Snow in Panama

I had so enjoyed my time in the beautiful San Blas islands, for many reasons, one of them being there were no mosquitoes.  If there is a mosquito within a mile of where I am it will find me.  Since arriving in Panama word is out that the mosquito buffet has arrived and they are all tucking in, I have so many bites on my arms and legs, there is barely an inch where I do not have itchy red inflamed skin. My legs are covered in bloody scabs.  
Normally when I get a mosquito bite I resist the urge to scratch because I know if I can bear it for about 20 minutes it will stop.  These bites are different, they do not stop itching, I wake at night scratching and bleeding, the only relief is to put ice on, I wish I had a bath so I could fill it with ice and jump in. 

Gold bond make a medicated wipe that is probably the best anti itch treatment I have found, but they are not sold out here, and I doubt that I could afford the amount I would need to buy. 

OFF make a device that you wear and it keeps the mosquitoes away, it really works, but the refills are hard to find, impossible in fact out here. 

So at night I crawl under the mosquito net which hangs over my bed with arms full of zip lock bags filled with ice, which I move from one inflamed area to the next until I am suitably frozen and there is enough relief for me to sleep, then I dream of rolling around naked in the snow before rolling over bursting the bag with the melted ice and waking in a pool of water.

Live Explosives !

Yesterday Frieda and I walked the "loop" through the jungle.

We have to exercise a little bit of caution walking through the jungle here!

We didn't see any monkeys, or thankfully any unexploded devices, but we did see lots of birds and

butterflies, including a panama butterfly, they are apparently quite rare and really beautiful, it was the

size of my hand, and so blue, but sadly too fast for me to capture it on film.

There are hardly any flowers around this time of year, and all the leaves are falling it's like Autumn.

One of the beautiful local butterfly's

Strutting My Stuff!

Not exactly exercising a stealthy approach this morning while photographing wildlife in the jungle.  I was dressed in long pants that were every shade of pink, red, purple and green, I could probably have been spotted from space. 

It wasn’t a deliberate decision, I dressed quickly and quietly in the dark not wanting to make any noise or throw any lights on and wake Frieda.  I don’t usually venture outside in these pants, I bought them in a moment of madness and have since only used them in the confines of the boat, usually when alone, but so excited was I about photographing more wildlife I didn’t think when I grabbed my camera and excitedly headed out to the jungle.

It was only when I was coming back that I noticed a group of marina workers staring in wide-eyed astonishment at me that I suddenly realized what I was wearing.  But then in an environment where people dress (or not) in the most odd and peculiar fashion, where its apparently quite acceptable for women 8 & ½ months pregnant to run around in bikinis, 40+ year old men to prance around in turquoise thongs, really, really, hairy old men strutting around in Speedo’s (I truly would like to shoot the person who invented Speedos, an age limit really, should have been applied for their use) women in shorts, who honestly shouldn’t, pajama clad people who maybe just couldn’t be bothered to get dressed, anything goes it seems, out here.  So if I want to strut my stuff in a kaleidoscope of colors while doing my Baily/Belamie impersonation’s then I’m allowed!

Great New Book

For those of you who enjoy reading my blog, and love travel stories, there is a great new book that you should check out, here's the link to the web site
http://www.boatnuts.net 


Enjoy 

Lost

Walking through the jungle it was like stumbling across a film set for Lost.  The whole area used to be a military zone, before they left and the marina was built.

Jungle walk & Monkey business

So this afternoon Frieda and I decided to hike through the jungle, such an amazing experience, we saw leaf cutting ants, many different birds,  even a family of Toucan's, but best of all three monkeys, and one had a baby on her back...

A Toucan in the trees on the edge of the jungle

Monkey with baby on her back

Anchor drama at Monkey Island

Sunday 16^th January

As we approached the mainland of Panama the scenery and the water change quite drastically.  

The mountainous rainforest rises up dramatically from the shore, and the peaks of the mountains gradually disappear into a mist.  Heavy rain clouds loom ominously above. The sea quickly changes from clear turquoise to murky green, caused by the run off from the rivers.  The coastline appears quite eerie, dark and foreboding with occasional hazy rays of sunshine piercing through the clouds.

We approach Monkey Island as the sun is setting and we are so grateful to be at our anchorage before dark.  In my excitement at having arrived safely, and while paying more attention to the island (looking for the monkeys) than to the anchor, I’m suddenly in trouble, when the anchor chain shoots through right to the bitter end.  Thank God we had the chain tied on.  I quickly attached the snubber to secure the chain, and called for Bob.  Unfortunately the line tied to the anchor had knotted itself around the windless and we were unable to untie it.  Bob had to dismantle the entire windless to get the line out and put the chain back on.  OH boy was I ever popular!

Only monkeys populate Monkey Island, there is a derelict house on the shore, inhabited by the monkeys, they are very tame and will come and sit on your lap and eat out of your hands, but apparently when you try and leave they get upset and will bite you.  Knowing this we decided not to venture onto the island, but to observe from a safe distance on the boat.  

We could hear the monkeys clearly, but were unable to see any.

Days in Paradise

We woke to blue sky and sun streaming through our open hatch, Daisy barely moves here in the bay, which is so still the water is like turquoise glass. 

For breakfast I made French toast  dressed with slices of fresh pineapple, melon and banana, and drizzled with maple syrup and chocolate sauce, and strong Italian coffee, what a totally decadent way to start the day.

After lazying around in the hammocks for a while we got the dinghy down and  motored around the islands looking for a good place to snorkel.  We doned our gear and flopped out of the dinghy into the crystal clear, bathwater temperature water.

The snorkeling here is good, but I wouldn’t say it was fantastic, however the water is, it’s the clearest I have ever seen, unfortunately the fish are not as abundant as in Bonaire.  I’m afraid Bonaire has spoilt me forever for snorkeling, nothing so far compares, not even close.  However, this water is truly amazing, and there are giant eagle rays everywhere.  You can spot them a long way off as slowly moving dark shadows, when they get close you can see how beautiful they are, we have seen so many already, we just say “OH look another ray!”

After snorkeling we went ashore and explored one of the little islands. The islands are truly something out of a picture book, if you like the BVI’s, then times their beauty by 100, and you will be close to the beauty of the San Blas.

Lunchtime was another delicious gastronomic event, gravalax and dill sauce with salad, wine, fresh fruit and incredible scenery, it is Paradise here, and I have to wonder why I so often complain about this lifestyle of mine.

The afternoon was spent lazying around in the hammocks again, some friends from neighboring boats joined us late afternoon for cocktails, then dinner of crispy sweet and sour pork and stir-fried fresh vegetables bought this afternoon from one of the local boat vendors.

OH life is tough sometimes, but someone has to do it J  Don’t you all just hate me right now!

Police & cheerleaders

‎So, taking the bus into Colon today to do a supermarket shop was an interesting ride, first we pass the armed guards at the entrance to the marina, then we head out through jungle for about 20 minutes, albeit on concrete roads, where all sorts of wildlife surround you.  I spotted a couple of crocs in the river, and a funny looking furry creature with a long tail and its head in the grass at the side of the road.  There are Toucans, eagles, monkeys, fabulous butterfly’s and all sorts of interesting creatures not normally seen outside of your local zoo.

Crossing the first lock of the Panama canal took ages as a ship the size of a small town was crawling slowly through pulled laboriously along by the donkey trains.

The surrounding countryside was untamed and sadly littered with garbage, as we approached the main town there was yet more garbage and typical neglect of buildings. 

In the town everyone drives like they’re either crazy or blind, there are absolutely no traffic lights, no signals or any road signs anywhere, no courtesy from drivers, in fact I don’t think they would even understand the meaning of the word. 

 Police are everywhere running around brandishing their automatic weapons like cheerleaders with batons.  I wasn’t scared, but I can honestly say I didn’t feel too safe. I am learning all too quickly how dangerous this place is.

Friends in far places

While waiting for my friend Frieda to arrive tonight, I was greatly entertained by two of the most friendly and colorful characters, whose names will not be mentioned for fear of incriminating them.

Sitting at the bar waiting for Frieda, we drank beer, (they) smoked cigarettes and we chatted and laughed and exchanged stories, I thought my stories were interesting, but I have to say theirs were better, well at least much more entertaining and colorful. 

These two fun loving guys have really lived the life, visiting, living in, and experiencing some of the most interesting, frightening, dangerous and diverse cultures; they have even been involved in gun battles, God Forbid. 

They told me stories that made my hair curl, and said that I should use the stories for my blog, unfortunately I’m not sure where I would stand legally if I was to repeat anything they told me, particularly as one of them is still on one country’s wanted list. I suggested they start their own blog, which, if they do I will absolutely pass on the address.

The point to all of this is, just to reiterate that this crazy life style of mine leads me into places where I meet the most diverse selection of interesting, colorful and fun loving people, who (unlike me) are not afraid of danger or adventure, and go after it,  grab it with both hands and shake the life out of it.

If Only I Could!

Oh if only I could be here, in these wonderful islands, and visit all these incredibly amazing places without having to actually sail here, (“beam me up Scottie”) words can not describe how bad I am at  sailing, so I’m not even going to try, because those of you out there that love me (thank you) and are (incredibly still) my friends, and happen to love sailing, will never be able to understand my fears.

I love the amazing places that I get to visit, the incredible people I am so unbelievably fortunate to meet, and the adventures I have that most people will only ever only experience through books, television or magazines, but honestly if any of you could actually see me cowering below decks during a rocky crossing leaving the “ship work” to whoever is unfortunate enough to be aboard with us, you would be ashamed of me. 

Truthfully, I’m ashamed of me; did any of you read my “Bee in the candy jar” blog?  I want the candy but I don’t want all the scary stuff that you have to endure to get the candy.

Edi was my last victim, for the crossing from Aruba to Cartagena, he had to stay on deck and work two shifts because (mummy) was sleeping, the look I got when I finally emerged from my cabin was not cool, but he had every reason to be pissed off he had stayed on deck all night just so I could hide below the covers and sleep.

Today Daniela gave me that same look when I eventually emerged from my escape burrow, because I had bolted below like a scared rabbit as soon as the crossing got rough, leaving her and Bob to deal with everything.  Fortunately Daniela is not a nervous wreck like her Mother, but she hadn’t felt well, and yet endured the discomfort in order to help her Father with the passage, while her pathetic Mother hid below decks…

Seriously, I didn’t ask for this, I started this adventure with Bob because it’s what he wanted, it’s always been his dream, and well, yes actually I must admit I do want the adventures, and all the incredible perks which are priceless.  I want all the candy without any of the pain.  I’m not asking for sympathy, I don’t deserve it, I’m just such a nervous ninny and don’t cope well when the going gets rough.  Where’s the Viocodin?

The Swimming Pool

Thursday 13^th January

Today we made the very wise if not very late decision to move to an area of islands here in the San Blas referred to as “the swimming pool”.

The past 5 or 6 days have been quite cloudy with only the odd outbreak of sun, possibly because we were so close to the mainland of Panama, which is all rainforest. 

Danni has been less than impressed with the weather lately, its bad enough that she’s trapped onboard alone with her parents, and can’t swim ashore because of the 15 foot crocodile, but no sun really is just too much to bare.  Having said that we have taken advantage of the few hours of sunshine in between the clouds to explore the surrounding islands, swimming in just the clear water off the beaches.

Having made the decision today to move to the swimming pool, my thoughts ran along the lines of “OH crap, more sailing and just another bloody island”, I think the cloudy days had started to get to me too, and you all know just how much I love sailing!

But, OMG how wrong could I have been, the sailing was actually bearable, we had 18+ knots of consistent wind, and were able to manage a very pleasant sail across at a steady 9 knots of speed.  The seas here off the Panama coast are big, but the winds give Daisy wings and we just fly smoothly along.

Approaching the swimming pool I was absolutely gob smacked, the islands are jaw-droppingly beautiful, prettier than any picture postcard or photo-shopped photograph.  The sea between the islands is an indescribable pallet of colors.

We brought the sails in and motored between the islands, through gin-clear water where you could see the grains of sand on the ocean bed, which was littered with sea stars.  The color of the water in the anchorage was so blue and so clear, exactly like a swimming pool, it wasn’t hard to see how this place came up with it’s name.

Daisy at anchor, at the swimming pool

I excitedly scoured the boats through the binoculars looking for Bamboo, my friend Roxanne’s boat, she said they would be here, sadly I didn’t see them, I had really hoped to catch up with them here, but they have either come and gone or not arrived yet, we will catch up later.

All the clouds are way off in the distance, and we have uninterrupted sunshine.  Danni jumped in the water only to discover the current is so strong she barely made it back to the boat.  We are anchored off Barbeque Island, so named because everyone uses it to have barbeque picnics; there is even a hut and a table for cruisers use.  The huge reef behind is dramatic to look at with the enormous waves crashing over.  There is a strong wind, which is cooling, and there is no rocking or movement of the boat, so it’s a very comfortable anchorage. 

None of the islands here are inhabited, as far as I can tell, and we are quite a long way off the Panama coast so there probably won’t be so many (if any) Kunas selling fish and vegetables, we’ll have to wait and see.

We are down to our last loaf of bread, and 4 liters of drinking water, and the locker is full with the garbage, so our time here will be limited, but we will come back.  We have friends who are planning to visit in the coming months, so we will absolutely be bringing them here.

Men in Thongs, No, No, No!

So the anchorage we’re in has a few other boats, mostly French, and they all seem to know one another, and being British, we are a bit of an oddity here, and definitely out numbered.  There’s a lot of constant activity with people going from boat to boat in their dinghy’s, and one guy in particular provides us with endless entertainment as he proudly stands up while driving his dinghy wearing only a bright turquoise thong, although Daniela informed me that it wasn’t actually a thong, more of a sock with some dental floss attached! “I can’t help wondering what the croc would have thought, “less chewable fabric to get caught in the teeth, and immediate access to the meat!  Please don’t read more into this statement”.

While I am absolutely not a fan of men wearing thongs (unless they’re gorgeous Italian models), or in fact any male over the age of 5 wearing  a Speedo, I have to say I have always loved the French, I admire their couldn’t care less attitude to life, they truly don’t give a damn; they always do exactly what they want to do, and usually with a style and panache that most of us can only envy.

In defense of the turquoise thong clad Frenchman, I have to add that he did have a great figure, and a fabulous tan (in comparison horrific images of my parchment white ass spring to mind) and I have to say only the French and Italian men can usually get away with this sort of exhibitionist behavior.

The majority of men over the age of 30 it seems commonly sport fat rolls and huge beer guts covered with hair like inhabitants from the local zoo; and the idea of any of them prancing around in a thong is both disturbing and scary.

While discussing the topic with Daniela, we both collapsed with laughter when attempting to name men we know who would look good in a thong, we both agreed, American and English men are far more attractive when appropriately dressed in fashionably long shorts, and the thongs left to the Italians and the French. 

Sometimes more is better!
P.S.
As I'm attempting to avoid any law suits, I declined from posting pictures of the offending men!

Jellyfish & Crocodiles

Sunday 9^th January

So, I have to take back what I said earlier; there are in fact jellyfish here, not that many, but they’re larger and have a much more painful sting, as poor Danni found out today.

Bob is still recovering from his cold so he stayed aboard while Danni and I swam to the island again.  We were about half way back to the boat when Danni suddenly yelled out, a large purple jellyfish had wrapped itself around her arm, she quickly shook it off but not before it stung her several times and then it wrapped itself around her leg.  I called for Bob who was still on the boat and fortunately watching us; he immediately brought the dinghy over to pick us up.  Danni’s arm and leg were red hot and burning with a clear line of stings.  We applied ice and antihistamine, which seemed to help a little. 

I had told Bob to take Danni back to the boat and said I would swim the rest of the way.  About 10 minutes after we got back to the boat I noticed people on  neighboring boats standing on their bows pointing at the island, a few minutes later one of them came over in her dinghy and said “crocodile”.

The rest of the afternoon was really entertaining, on the bow of Daisy, watching a group of drunk French people from the neighboring yacht’s on the shore cavorting about, laughing and being silly joking about the crocodile, and splashing and swimming about exactly where Danni and I had just swum not 20 minutes earlier, in the exact same spot where we had all seen the Crocodile.  It surfaced for about 10 – 15 minutes at a time, enough for me to take some photographs. Possibly the most scary thing about the Croc was the speed with which it moved and it’s length, it was at least as long as our dinghy, maybe longer, a possible 12 – 15 feet, they do grow up to 15 feet.

Taken from aboard Daisy, at a safe distance!

Crocodiles and caimans are abundant throughout Panama, and frequent the saltwater marshes and sometimes the open water between the islands in the San Blas as we were currently witnessing. Attacks on people are rare, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t exercise caution when swimming.

While we were all busy croc (and drunk French people) watching, 2 magnificent eagle rays swam past Daisy, huge, beautiful, incredible creatures.  It was exhilarating watching all the wildlife, but I don’t imagine Danni and I will be getting back in the water any time soon!

Some time later, having talked to some other boaters, we discovered that the croc is quite well know on Green Island and he even has a name (which the boaters couldn't remember).

Also he is 15 feet long.  So if you visit Green Island keep your eyes open!

So Much Food

Something I read over and over, and everyone told me before I came to the San Blas was be sure to provision well before you leave because you can’t buy anything in the islands.

Wrong! You really don’t need to bring anything other than the basics, like spices, long life milk, butter, wine, beer, sodas and water.  Every day we were able to buy fresh fish from the Kunas, they would bring it out to the boat, snapper, mahi mahi, lobster, crab, langoustine, grouper etc, etc… It was all freshly caught, and really, really cheap i.e.: $1. per fish, $5 for crab, $8- $12 for lobster, and that’s not per pound, that’s each!   Also the vegetable boat would arrive a couple of times a week, with almost all the fresh fruit, vegetables and salads you could want. 

Our biggest problem was garbage disposal, the Kunas offer to take it away for $1 a bag, but we didn’t give it to them because all they do is dump it on the islands, so we collected quite a few bags in our chain locker, all organic waste went into the ocean, but its surprising just how much plastic and tin one collects in a couple of weeks, so we had to store it ready to dispose of properly once we reached the mainland.

Starfish in Paradise

Friday 7^th January

This morning we were entertained by a pod of Dolphins swimming around the reefs in the anchorage.  They were fishing and showing off their acrobatic skills by leaping out of the water and performing incredible aerial acrobatics.

After breakfast we took the dinghy across to one of the small neighboring islands that Katherine had recommended for snorkeling.  The water here is Gin-clear and the reefs multiple and shallow, we paddled over the shallow areas and dropped anchor in a sandy spot.  The ocean bed is literally littered with beautiful cushion starfish the size of dinner plates. 

A cushion starfish, this photo was taken through 3 feet of water, its this clear.

We found a great snorkeling area, and Danni found a giant puffer fish, the snorkeling was good, but it doesn’t compare with Bonaire, although the islands make up for that with their natural untamed beauty.

Most of the boats have left now; leaving only 4 of us in the anchorage so it’s blissfully quiet.

The water was very calm in the afternoon so Danni and I swam to the island and walked all the way around, climbing over the occasional fallen palm and carefully avoiding all the starfish at the waters edge.  The sand is pearly pink, spotlessly clean, and soft as talcum powder; the lovely palm fringed shore and turquoise water create a real glimpse of paradise.  There are no mosquitoes, the water is perfect for swimming, it’s cool bath temperature and seemingly free of jellyfish.  It would be very easy to spend a month here on Green Island.  The constant breezes keep you cool day and night.  Swimming back to the boat Danni and I came across a floating coconut, which provided a convenient float for me to hold on to while I paddled lazily back to Daisy.

One of the pristine beaches in the islands

I did some more painting this afternoon, and joked with Bob about making lots of paintings and selling them to the other tourist boats!  Unfortunately I don’t think I would make enough money to keep Daisy afloat, nice thought though!

Mola’s, Eagle Ray's & Handmade Jewelry

Thursday 6^th January

Sitting on deck this morning we saw an eagle ray leap from the water right by the side of us, and then again a little further away.  This area is supposed to be frequented by many eagle ray’s, I hope we get to see some when we’re snorkeling.

Eagle Ray swimming past Daisy

A few of the other sail boats left this morning, so it’s much quieter here now.  A couple of local Kuna came over in their dugout canoes offering fish and molas for sale.  We bought a beautiful mola for $40 from one couple that came over with their 2 grandchildren; I intend to frame  it when I get home.

The Kuna lady I bought the mola from

Molas are a world-renowned symbols of Kuna culture.  These oblong works of art are made using several layers of fabric in bright contrasting colors.  Patterns are cut into the separate layers, which are then stitched together along the curve of the cut, a process called reverse appliqué.  They traditionally use precise geometric patterns in vibrant colors. The designs will often include fish, turtles, butterflies, parrots or other creatures commonly found in the islands, some abstract designs can also be found.  The molas vary in price from around $15 to $80 depending upon the amount of work involved.

Katherine, from one of our neighboring boats came over to show us her selection of hand made jewelry, she makes everything from local materials, coconut shell, seeds and  Tagua nuts, also known as vegetable ivory.  The selection and quality of her work was truly amazing bearing in mind that she and her husband make everything on board their boat. Danni and I bought a necklace each and one for Nicolette.

Kathering showing us some of her handmade jewelry

Late morning we took the dinghy ashore to Green Island where we swam off the beach, played with a neighboring boats dogs, collected shells and took photographs.

We bought 3 fish from some local fishermen and barbequed them for lunch with chicken, langoustine and coconut rice, it was delicious.  I’ll really miss the fresh fish when I get home, it taste’s so much better straight out of the ocean.

Green Island

Wednesday 5^th January

We planned to motor the short distance over to the island of Aridup this morning, for some snorkeling.  We waited in Snug Harbor until 9:30 but as my vegetables still hadn’t arrived we decided to just go on.  The anchorage at Aridup was really rolly, and the sea choppy, I stayed on board while Bob and Danni took the dinghy over to the island.

The seabed was churned up from the rough water and the snorkeling wasn’t good, so we weighed anchor and set sail for Green Island (Kanlildup). 

We had a wonderful sail across; even I managed to enjoy it.  We had 15 – 20 knots of consistent wind and managed an averaged a speed of 9 knots, arriving at 4pm.

The anchorage at Green Island was perfect, calm with crystal clear water.  There were 12 other sail boats so it was a little crowded, but the islands all around us were absolutely picture perfect.

Beautiful San Blas

Taken while sailing past one of the islands, with the waves pounding the reefs in the background

Snug Harbor

Tuesday 4^th January

Before we left this morning we took the photographs I had taken and printed, over for Horace and David.  Horace seemed pleased with his picture, but David was apparently off up the mountain so we left the pictures with his father-in-law.

Bob and Danni with our guide Horace

We easily caught up with the 2 other boats that left the anchorage before us this morning, and sailed with them to Snug Harbor when we stayed for the night.

Navigating through the islands was a real challenge, there are so many reefs, but the waypoints in the Panama cruising guidebook were excellent, I wouldn’t have wanted to try it without the book.

Snug Harbor was a peaceful quite anchorage between a group of small islands, the water was still, but remained green and murky from the river.  Even before we had dropped anchor the Kuna men approached in their dugout canoes selling fish and molas.  One man was taking orders for vegetables, I asked for Yucca, tomatoes and bananas, I gave him $6 and he said he would bring them by in the morning.

Ashore in Kuna territory

Monday 3^rd January 2011

We took the dinghy ashore to Isla Pinos, or Tupbak, which is the Kuna name for the island.  We were met on the dock by Horace one of the local Kuna guide’s, who happily accepted the pile of magazines we had taken with us; a fellow cruiser in the bay had told us that Horace wanted magazines.

We were cordially escorted to the Chief’s hut, where we requested and were granted permission to look around the village.  Horace took us first to see his home, which consisted of 2 humble thatched bamboo walled huts, a cooking hut, and a sleeping hut.  Horace’s wife was busy hanging out the washing and didn’t seem very pleased to see us, she was dressed in full traditional Kuna attire, colorful molas, and the tight fitting beaded calf adornments which are meant to draw attention to the woman’s slender legs, Bob said they looked like perfect blood clot causing material!  Kuna women are instantly recognizable by their colorful costumes adorned with molas in bright primary colors.

The Kuna people are fierce defenders of tribal tradition, protecting an indigenous culture, that is one of the most intact and colorful in the New World

I asked Horace if his wife would mind if I took a photograph of her, but she immediately disappeared into the hut, so I took that as a no.

We were then taken inland to the river where the recent heavy rains had collapsed the hillside, the landslide had blocked the river cutting off the fresh water to the village, Horace was obviously very upset and concerned about this, I couldn’t help but wonder why the men in the village weren’t there digging to clear the blockage!

Danni and I had brought candy for the Kuna children, and I asked Horace if it was OK for me to give it to them, he smiled and took the candy from my hand putting it in his pocket!  Fortunately I hadn’t shown him all the candy we brought so I was able to hand out what I had left to some of the children in the village. 

I noticed that all the women quickly disappeared into their huts as we passed, but the children were not camera shy and happily posed for photographs.

One of the local men, David, who had come over to Daisy when we arrived yesterday came over to say hello, and offered to show us his home; we walked through an arch constructed of bamboo and decorated with flowers and a Happy New Year sign, that David proudly announced he had made in celebration of the New Year. 

David’s home was another couple of thatched bamboo walled constructions, one for sleeping and one for cooking, he introduced us to his wife and little girl and asked whether I would take photographs and print them out for him, I agreed, and quietly hoped that my printer on board was still working.  As we left the village I could feel eyes on us all around, peering out from between the bamboo walled huts.

The island is so isolated that at night without the moon it is totally black.  The Kuna do not have electricity, so there was no light from the village.  It was a strange feeling standing on deck in total and complete darkness, there was absolutely no light at all, quite eerie!

On Route to the San Blas Islands.

Saturday 1^st January 2011

Having made the decision to sail on through the night, it wasn’t long before the winds picked up and we were able to raise the sails.

We sped through the night averaging 8 – 9 knots of speed, with 20+ knots of wind.  The seas were big building to 4+ meter waves so the passage was a little rolly, but without the engine running it was blissfully quiet.  While sitting up on deck both Danni and I both got stung by bees.  Not something you would normally expect while miles out at sea.

I usually am not a great fan of night sailing, but between the bioluminescent streaks in our wake, and the incredible jeweled night sky above us, it seemed as though we were surrounded by iridescent lights. 

While I was on watch we must have passed close to a whale, as I noticed the sudden distinct aroma of whale breath, it’s a strong fishy scent; Unfortunately In the dark I was unable to see anything.

We had the water-maker running, and I was really looking forward to a shower. We had run our water supply dry in Cartagena and had been unable to make any water while we were there because the bay water was so filthy.

Boat life has really given me a chance to appreciate some of the simple things in life that I previously had taken for granted, like fresh water, and the ability to take a shower; it’s such a luxury.

It took us 24 hours to reach the San Blas Islands.  We arrived and 9:30am. Heavy rain clouds hovered threateningly over some of the islands and the mainland of Panama, we headed to Isla Pinos, the only island under a patch of blue sky.   I get such a thrill arriving at places I’ve never even heard of.

The sea was green and murky, and Daniela was disappointed, as she had been looking forward to swimming in crystal clear water, although she was quite happy not to swim once Bob told her about all the Crocodiles.

3:38pm Saturday January 1st 2011

At sea, and loving it, the sea is as flat as a mill pond, the breeze is deliciously cooling under the blisteringly hot sun, thank goodness for the bimini, and I’m picking up an Internet signal.  We have only 5 – 8 knots of true wind, and 10 -12 apparent, not enough to sail, but at least we’re not bouncing around.

The only land within sight are the San Bernado Islands.  We have decided to keep going through the night and should arrive in the San Blas Islands in the morning.

There is another boat sailing with us, which always makes me feel safer, although I really couldn’t be more comfortable right now, if only all passages were like this. I wish Niki, Scoop and Edi were still here with us.