In the midst of our labors I had asked on a Cruising Bulletin Board what to do with all our “stuff”, sell everything or keep stuff and the most profound answer was: “Stuff has gravity, where ever your stuff is you’ll orbit it”!  We did quite well with reducing the gravitational attraction to almost zero but we never quite gained weightlessness.

As most people who have traveled life’s trails a considerable amount we had acquired some items that didn’t fit well into a financial statement, we needed a Safe Deposit Box.  A Safe Deposit box can be an oxymoron depending on the bank or institution you have secured one at. We had used a box before at a smaller bank near our residence but the bank changed hands and closed. Fortunately we were still living nearby and could easily move what we had in the box to another location.  This time we chose a bank that had been in our town for as long as we had; almost 30 years.  We went and purchased a box and put our “stuff” in it.  Paid for a year and went cruising.  Every year when the bill came due we paid for another year and last year when we were back in the states visiting family we paid for two years ensuring that we would be traveling back to the states by then and could easily pay forward again.

In this time period Bank of America had bought the bank where our safe deposit box was.   A month ago we were in Sapzurro, Colombia, no airport, no roads, no cars thus no taxi’s, but Sapzurro did have phone service and internet. Our reliable agent in the US contacted us and said that Bank of America (BOA) sent a mailing (not even certified) indicating they were going to close our bank where we had the Safe Deposit Box at and we had 3 months to come retrieve the contents of the box or they would have the box drilled and our agent said this is what a Bank of America (BOA) representative told her,  “put the contents in a folder and we could pick them up at a later date”!

IMHO a folder isn’t quite the same as a Safe Deposit Box  in which we had paid for and I wasn’t interested in taking the risk of someone borrowing (permanently) anything from our folder.  We had a big conundrum on our hands. We had paid for two years of a box at this bank and obviously Bank of America (BOA)  wasn’t interested in honoring their side of the contract!  Had I been Donald Trump I would have sent  a squad of lawyers down on them simply because what they did IMHO isn’t morally or ethically right and doesn’t meet fair practice in any contract.  However; I’m quite sure if I was Donald they would have used Brinks to move the contents to another Bank of America branch, secured another box, and sent me a limo when I was back in the area to retrieve my contents. But I’m not Donald. Thankfully.

Luckily our agent has a Power of Attorney for me and was able to secure with our keys access to the box and move the contents to another Safe Deposit Box.  Luckily the individual our agent spoke with at Bank of America was friendly and understanding.  That’s right now the only good thing I can say about Bank of America (BOA), they had one conscientious employee that has a heart. My agent was able to move the contents to a Safe Deposit Box to our Credit Union (thankfully IMHO the credit union will not play these games). and we’re all secure again.

I’m reminded of the classic saying “Fool me once, Shame on You; fool me twice, Shame on Me”!  Bank of America will not get a chance; to the best of my abilities, to fool me twice. I hope to NEVER use their banks again for any service longer than the time it takes me to enter and exit. Bank of America (BOA)  lost a costumer this year and hopefully any individuals reading this blog will take my experience into account in any of their dealings with Bank of America (BOA).

Tied to Shore

Successfully cleared in now we moved the boat closer to shore and out of the surge. Surge in harbors can end up causing the boat to roll back and forth making living aboard difficult and living with W/ close to impossible. We upped anchor and squeezed in between a local Catamaran and a back packer boat named Esmeralda.  Once we had the anchor down we dug some spare lines out of the bilge, tied them together and ran it to shore tying it to a tree. Thus,  any surge in the harbor would simply make us pitch a bit (bow to stern) and reduce the roll to almost zero.  However there is a downside to this arrangement.

W/and I HATE bugs.  No See Um’s and Mosquitoes are not prone to increasing anyone’s marital harmony. This close to shore we were now needing to fight the bugs with a physical impediment and  so we put up screens which by the way also reduces air flow. A reduced air flow means hotter nights. Yuck! We fought having to put up screens as long as possible; however the No See Um’s were munching on W/ like she was an all night diner.  The bites alone weren’t enough to drive her insane but there seemed to be some left over effect that during the day she was constantly itchy. So we did three things, we switched soaps wondering if the bugs didn’t just like the soap she was washing with and her skin chemistry, we setup the screens up earlier and we lit a Citrenalla candle inside before we put the screens up.  The three pronged attack seemed to be working and we were surviving in this harbor and ready to enjoy the village.

Going ashore caused me constant consternation. I’m not one for walking beaches. The almost  microscopic sand seems to find places in my hairy legs (yes I don’t shave my legs not being that Urbane)  and I simply abhor getting sand on the boat. However, we either rowed the hard dinghy to the town; a long way away, or we walked the beach. We like walking more then rowing so the beach was it. There we met Jorge  who is a local legend; writer and teacher at the cultural center. He is basically retired but one would never know it. He speaks English (lucky us) and was the Colombian Consulate at their embassy in Panama. We shared many visits with him gathering the things to do and the people to see and the places to go; places to get food, and remember this is Dave and Wendy, so principally it was the places to eat. Finally, we would have something more then Coconut Rice and fried something!

Waterfall, Sapzurro, Colombia

Additionally there were four hikes one could take; over the mountain to Capurgana, to a waterfall, to the Western most point of the harbor and over the Western mountain into Panama and the Beach Miel.  As for restaurants there are half a dozen or so and the best is out by the point.  Basic fare is Fried Red Snapper with rice and salad (not much different than in Kuna Yala but it was much tastier) and then shrimp or  Ceviche. We tried most all the restaurants.

Ironically; while there are no vehicles in Sapzurro, mostly no roads but wide walk ways, no planes or trains, there is 3G phone service. That means we can communicate with the outside world. After anchoring one of the first things we did was to see about getting a new SIM card. That purchased we then found a place to eat.

Food often being the number one priority; especially of anyone over 30 we sat down at a restaurant where we saw what looked to have some tasty fare. We watched what another customer had just received and when we tried to order we said “That one!”  But as in many small towns we were no longer in a place where service people cater to the

Best Value across from Mystic Roots

international tourist. Spanish was the language of the day and discovering what was on the Menu (they didn’t have a physical menu) was tantamount to W/ hitting a 150 mph serve in tennis.  We waited, and tried and waited and finally when the wait staff actually seemed to tire of us we got lucky. The waitress actually asked if someone else in the restaurant could speak English and help. A young college girl (Carolina) offered and she helped make our day. We ordered and Carolina was concerned enough to check and make sure all was well and make sure we knew how much the meal was.  40,000 pesos.  (Rate was 1,750/ US dollar).  We left stuffed. W/ left half her fish.  We left thankful for people like Carolina. We could have easily split one meal. I don’t know if we’re actually eating that much less or if they’re simply serving that much more.

Satisfied we returned to the boat to discover that the SIM card needs to have more money added so we can subscribe to the Data Plan. Back to town… tomorrow. Now we read, rest, read, rest, repeat.

Eventually we get the SIM card working and now have internet only to discover that on the dongle it’s EDGE and the iPhone 3g. So I spend time getting the phone to act as a hotspot; 3g is many times faster then EDGE and eventually I sort it all out. And what we see when the internet is all sorted is we have weather coming.  Specifically rain.  In all the 30 some odd days we hung out here I’m guessing we had half  the days with rain stretching all the way from a drizzle to  a frog strangler.

Wendy Bailing the Dinghy

Therein we were able to read to our hearts content. After about two weeks here we had two straight days of rain, yeah, it was off and on some but mostly on. This  provided us with a spectacular breach in the beach.  We had had so much rain the night before that the marsh area behind the beach filled up with water leaving the beach to act as a filter and dam, cleaning the fresh water as it made it’s way to the bay and holding back the excess. As we were having breakfast we heard this sudden sound of a waterfall. W/ can’t let any change in noise go unnoticed so she sticks her head out of the companionway and says “Oh my God!”.  She rarely ever say’s something calmly like “Dave, you have to see the water coming across the beach”. Immediately I rise to look and see if we’re alright

Start of the Beach Breach

believing that there may well be a wall of water approaching the boat and we have to cut the lines and leave now. Instead I see a break in the beach. The break is close to where we’ve tied the line shore and Jorge has wandered over to take a look. He signals us to move a bit farther off  as the water is pulling a great deal of sand with it and we’re not really interested in being surrounded by sand and stuck aground. I let out some more of the line that holds us to the shore and we move another 50′ away.  The breach continues on for an hour or so and then the following several days water continues to trickle out. The light wave action begins to build the damn back up. Jorge indicated that this actually happens several times a year.

Jorge Checking out the Breach

We find a break in the weather and decided to stroll to the waterfall. At one time the fall was much more active but now the town plumbs to the lake behind it and removes water for their use. However; we did enjoy the falls; after all the rain there was some activity there and the cool water was pleasant  to walk in,  small fish were swimming in the pools immediately below the falls. I wish I had a net and small bowl. I would  like to have seen the fish, see if I could have identified any of them as similar to those we sold in our pet store years ago. Fighting bugs we quickly made way back to town and to try out a new restaurant.

Carlos Enrique Fish Ceviche

A short walk from town  we go to the  Carlos Enrique Giraldo Garbner restaurant. It  is said to be the nicest restaurant there and indeed IMHO it was. We each had a guava drink, and salad, while my main course was  Fish Ceviche and W/ had Snapper in a Mango Sauce.  Our cost was 50,000 Pesos. We were the only ones at the restaurant. Luckily we had waited till after the Easter festivities. There didn’t appear much in the way of

Carlos Enrique's Mango Snapper

religious celebrations but the town was hopping with hikers, campers and tourists in general. Mostly during that time we hung on the boat. For us the worst part of the holiday was the constant LOUD music played over any number of the speakers at the waterfront. Fortunately, by midnight and 3 am respectively the music stopped and we were able to find some rest. We found the best value restaurant acroos from the Mystic Roots, a hidden place between town and the beach on the west side. We found the most interesting fare at an new place on the East side of town where you could get Pizza’s, Hamburgers and Lasgana of all things.  The pizza we had twice!

Colombian Pizza

We walked the beach, taste tested many of the restaurants, and did some small boat projects for most of the month. Shortly after we had had enough we went to check out of the country. Jorge had helped arrange a launcha to take us around to Capurgana at 7 am and there we could check out and then make our way back to Panama. What should be easy never is.

We arrived in Capurgana early in the am and went to check out when Immigration opened. The sign said 9 so we found a small place for breakfast and had a bite.  Chasing the bugs, cats and dogs away from our food we finished and then meandered back to Immigration to be informed that they were open but couldn’t do anything, no electricity!  When will they have electricity? Maybe 11 or 12. We walk some more. We cover most of the town’s streets and find a nice Hotel / Restaurant ( Las Mananitas ) on the waterfront where we sit and have a couple of fruit drinks. About noon now we wander back to Immigration and they now say the electric will be on at 2!  Dealing with elastic time in the Caribbean can become quite a challenge.  We wander some more, eat lunch at another restaurant and thankfully they exchange some pesos for dollars as we’re just about out of Colombian money. We hadn’t  planned on being here all day and needed 30,000 pesos to pay for the launch to return to the boat.  Well feed, overstuffed actually, and with a lack of burning any real calories we waited some more  for 2 pm to roll around.  We soon find our selves back at immigration near 2 and are now 3rd and 4th in line.  Ok, wait some more.  Two o’clock rolls around and viola, shortly there after they have power! Finally,  hopefully, we figure we will indeed get the paper work completed and  head back to Panama.

A few minutes later the Immigration Officer comes out and says “The computers are not working, it will be at least another hour!”

As time passes we’re getting more and more depressed. We’re wondering if we’ll have to return another day. Our launch was suppose to leave at 2. We spoke with the owner in our broken Spanish and he understood it should be by 3. He said “No Problem”. Now he wanders by the immigration office, sees us waiting and the  Immigration  Officer tells him it should be by 4. Kindly he indicates that still  it’s no problem and we wait.

By now there are about 20 people waiting for immigration to stamp passports.  We are still 3rd and 4th in line but the rules seem to change. Lines are only for those that believe in them.  Close to 3 somehow, something in the connections for the PC’s seemed to work and a cheer went up as their system finally booted.  The officer motions us forward but me being the dummy, went to let the two that were there before us go, instead, some others ran ahead.  Damn am I dumb.

W/ keeps telling me to quit worrying but I’m afraid their system might crash as well. We’ve gone from being 3 and 4, to about 6 and 7. But as I am big I make a valiant attempt to block anyone else getting in front of me.  Our turn eventually arrives and we sit down in front of the officer, he looks at our papers, scans the passport, and stamps everything related to our leaving. With much “Thanks” we leave relieved.

Back to the launch where we wait again to head back to the boat. This wait is sweet. We know we’ll get there, there is no more worries about delays. We watch as others board their launch to go to Obaldia, Panama and we eventually return to the boat. We check the weather.

Tomorrow doesn’t look good, looks like more rain, and from what I can tell it looks like more rain the following day. We prepare anyway. One day we’ll have what looks to be the weather we want.  We understand that Colombia wishes one to leave within 48 hours after receiving their clearance papers but all mariners understand weather can be an issue and to our knowledge no one has been hassled about the time spent waiting. We take the inflatable ashore and clean the bottom. We’ll tow it to our first anchorage so a clean bottom means an easier tow.

That night for some odd reason the music starts up again. It’s Tuesday night. It was loud. Some songs we know, some not. Some Latin songs, some English that are sung in Spanish, but mostly LOUD.  The rains came in the early morn and just about the same time the music shut down. Ahh….. blessed rest.  The following night we end up with the same thing. LOUD music except tonight the music has changed from Latin and POP to TechNO.  And more than that it appears that the tape is an 8 track or something like that playing  over and over and over again.  Too, it was LOUD. So loud I got a decibel meter downloaded to the iPad and found it to be on our boat as loud as the generator, 70-80 decibels. It was LOUD enough that on the other end of the harbor where we were it would rattle some of the locker doors!  Not only that it didn’t stop at 3 am, it went on, till 4, then till 5, then till 6 then…..  . W/ and I decided even if it rained we had to go.

By 7 am the music was still reverberating in  the harbor and we had pulled in our line from shore, upped anchor and were heading out of the harbor. Not till we were around the headlands did we stop hearing the noise. By now it was no longer music for us. Fortunately we had a day without rain but also a day without wind. We motored to Puerto Escoses. There, there was no music, no restaurants, no town and a peaceful night of blessed sleep.

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long

An avid blog reader might remember my post of when a loved one was first diagnosed with stage 4  Prostate Cancer. I’ll say now that he was my step father. We were in Granada and I thought I might have to travel back to the states then. That time came and passed.  I needn’t return because although it was stage 4 no one thought George was on his last legs.  Since that time my mother and stepfather moved twice and went out to lunch most every day. My stepfather had entered Hospice also at  that time and a year later my family and I joked (what else could we do) that he was going to be the longest living Hospice person ever. He may have come close because he lived almost two full years after entering Hospice.

Finally his time had arrived. W/ and I and the boat are in Sapzurro, Colombia ; where there are no cars, no airports, there is phone service, a few restaurants and just a few stores.  Approx 3 days ago I received an email from my sister that George had been taken to the hospital.  We emailed back and forth a bit and I offered to fly back to Florida.  I figured at the worst it would be a 5 day one way  trip, clear Immigration in Colombia, a small boat ride  to Obaldia Panama (again no roads in or out of there), if lucky a flight out that day or most likely the next  to Panama City, then if lucky fly that day or most likely another overnight, then to Orlando then with my niece or nephew to moms place.  Wendy would have had to stay with the boat.

My mom said to stay she’d be ok. Her adult grandchildren are there, my sister is on her way and she’s a farm girl. The farm girl doesn’t rid one of grief but does IMHO provide one a  healthy perspective on life’s cycle.  So I stayed.

My stepfather passed in the night. My mother and he had been together for almost 38 years, my entire adult life. They had become more then a couple. They were a single working being. Early in their marriage they traveled N. America in their Motor Home. Later they commuted to Texas and back home to Iowa . I remember when mom told me that as George’s eyes weren’t as sharp anymore, and they wanted to built a small wooden porch on the back of their place in Texas how she helped.  George’s brain stayed sharp to the end.  While in his head he could design the steps he just couldn’t see well enough to start and hammer a nail in alone. My mom held the nail while he started it and then finished hammering it home; I’m thinking by then that mom didn’t have her hand on the nail as she still has all her fingers!  That’s trust, that’s working together. That’s a unique marriage and a unique couple.

About two years ago mom was driving George to the Doctor.  On the way from the car to the office George fell in the parking lot and I really don’t remember how bad of a fall; bad enough that one the Dr’s assistants came rushing out to help. However;  when they next had an appointment George commented that “He’s the first Dr he’d ever fallen for”!  Always a sense of humor, sharp as a tack till the end.

He loved cars, planes, life and people. When he was younger he earned the Carnegie Medal of Honor by saving a boy’s life in the Mississippi River.  He was a good man, and by extension a good human being.  Anyone, choosing to emulate his life could only help to improve humanity.

I’ll miss him but I too know that we all travel his path.  He died relatively quickly and quietly with my mom at his side.  Can we wish for anything better during our last moments on this Earth?

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long

One oddity we noticed on Pinos was the lack of pets. There may have been some Parrots but there were no dogs (as mentioned earlier they bite) and we saw no cats.  In any community where there are no canines or felines there appears to be a sadness.  Pets are one of the things that children of every culture love to love, learn to love, and learn to care for. They bring joy and sorrow but they also bring more humanness to places. On Pinos while there seemed an abundance of humanness it was quite obvious the  joy of pets; dogs and cats, was seriously missing. Well as we’ve oft said we’re not here to make others see our view but to see their views, how they live, celebrate, communicate, travel, etc.

Our traveling South is by, boom, boom, boom, or as some sailors like to say; the iron genny.  We tried to stop just off of Suiedup and Bauhaus’ Guide shows a 15′ area there. We slowly motored in and here is one of the places in his guide we found to be in error. We discovered depths from 8′ (time to stop and move back) to 40′. Obviously this area of his guide needs more work.  After 3 different attempts at dropping the anchor and dragging it across what felt like a blacktop parking lot we chose to head further south and anchor in Puerto Esconda.

Sapzurro, Colombia

An hour later we had a quite picturesque anchorage in calm water and we were ready for a quiet; hopefully bug free evening. Every where one travels in Kuna Yala there are fires burning. When the Kuna harvest Coconut they shuck them and then gather up the outer coverings to burn. And burn them they do, everywhere. Not a day goes by we don’t see smoke from burns all across Kuna Yala  and I wonder if burning the coconut and anything else they find isn’t one way the Kuna drive the bugs away. Don’t get me wrong. There are mosquitoes and no-see-ums here but not near as many as we would expect. Florida seems to have more and they spray insecticides there constantly.  Although we anchored about 200 m from shore we were 99% bug  free.

The following am found us up bright and early using our motor sailing  to Colombia. We arrive about noonish and dropped the hook in the S end of the bay, there to get ready for the paper work clearing into Colombia.

A launcha pulled up as we were anchoring and I made an appointment for him to pick me up the following am and run me to Capurgana so I could take care of the paperwork for Colombia. In the am as we weren’t 100% sure which time zone we were in now I was ready at 7 am and when 9am rolled by I come to  understand that somewhere we had a failure to communicate, my Spanish must have not been up to the task as the launcha never showed up. W/ then took me to the town dock and dropped me off whereby I muddled some more through the language and found that I would be able to get a launcha but would need to wait, else it would be 30,000 peso’s.  I chose to wait as I only had 80,000 pesos (1,800 pesos / 1 dollar) to begin with.  Fortunately there was a young college girl that was bi-lingual and helped me to make sure I was doing what I needed and going where I wanted.  After about 30 minutes her friend (who wasn’t bi lingual) came to get me and said there was a launcha going from here and he would take me now. Whew!

In the launcha I met Ivan who is Colombian and worked in the US as a chef for many years, he helped me by explaining where to go and said he too needed to clear in as he had just arrived by plane in Obaldia and taken a launcha to Sapzurro.  I followed Ivan and entered the immigration office only to discover that W/ too needed to be here. Now the vast majority of ports ONLY want the Captain to appear with the paper work and the passports but here the immigration officer wanted to see Wendy.  Damn!  This was going to be an interesting day.  (BTW- Trinidad was the only other country of the 20 or so we’ve been to that wanted all the members of the yacht to appear).

Upon my paper work being completed I ran into Ivan again, I looking a little dejected. He asked how it went and I told him.  Not to worry. Peter (the owner of the launcha) would pick up W/ when he went back to Sapzurro and then bring her by. But to explain the situation  to W/ in her limited Spanish when Peter got to our boat he would call Ivan and then I would talk to W/ and tell her that immigration wanted to see her too.  After that it was wait and see.

I found her strolling the dock a little lost; not a lot, just a little, then I introduce her to Ivan. One more question for Ivan; any place to change some $ for pesos and he helps us discover a hostel that will exchange dollars for pesos. Thankfully there is someplace to change money or else life here would be boring. There are no banks, and no bank machines in either Carpurgana or Sapzurro.  We met a young couple from the Netherlands that needed to change pesos back to dollars and so we shared some time with (they both were tri-lingual) them while we awaited the immigration officer to return to work. Interestingly; we’ve met several young people that have finished schooling and are now traveling prior to their settling down with a yearly job. So many that there almost seems to be a national law about college graduates leaving the country. What a wonderful way to gain perspective on one’s place in the world.

I remember the first time we went to Mexico, W/ being a Social Worker and concerned about people in the lower economic bracket describes the trip as “eye opening”.  In Isla Mujures we saw people living in homes with dirt floors, no window panes, and taking the time to sweep and keep their home as clean as possible. Larry on Hobo tells of meeting an individual in the Caribbean Islands and he was asking about poor people in America. At first Larry said there were poor people in America. The islander asked Larry, “Do they have electricity? Yeah. Do they have toilets in the house? Yeah. Do they have clean water? Yeah.  You don’t have poor people in America”  the islander said.  In the end, life is a matter of perspective. We see Kuna living in a house I would

Roof lines a tad short for me

continually have a brain concussion in and in Colombian people living in a community with no roads and no cars. Are they poor?  I don’t know. They seem quite content, quite happy. Not that any of them would turn down a million dollars or a million pesos!  One can always wish, but life is sweeter if instead of wishing for something different one lives the best with what one has.  And to help anyone appreciate what one has, all we need to do is travel.

Wendy finished having her passport stamped by the Immigration officer and we were legal. Time to enjoy Colombia again.

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign
Blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind
Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign?

Others cruise to hang with ex-Pats, and some cruise to see how the rest of the world lives.

At Isla Pinos we fell into the last group. We anchored in the lee of Pinos and connected up with Hobo for a trip to shore. One dinghy, four people and a dog. At the dock we were met by an English speaking Kuna who informed us that Morgan wasn’t allowed in the community. Ok, it is their community  and Larry ran Morgan back to the boat. David

Wendy, David, and Moi

explained the protocol on Pinos, visit the Sila (Community Governor) of which this community has 3 and then we can, with a guide, see the town.  (I’m not 100% sure about the guide part but since he was the local and the interpretor what could we do).

When Larry returned we went with David and he introduced us to two of the 3 Silas and we visited his homesite; where he’s building a new home for his family, picked up some bread and arranged a trip with him to the Antenna  at the top of Pinos. With the Silas we (actually Larry) was asked to take some pictures and make some copies for the Sila’s and some of the family members on the island. As a courtesy he obliged and made about a dozen or so till he ran out of ink. Fortunately they’re heading further E to Cartagena where they can get more ink.

The following afternoon all of us met David where he was building his house and had two of the center beams lined up and holes dug for the outer wall corners. Larry and I helped him finish up planting one of the posts and filling it in so as to ensure it’s vertical integrity, then we’re ready to hike.

We traveled past their water catchment system and where the village controls the water to each half the town; one half having water turned on from 10- 12 and the other from 2-4, And we had to ask, do they ever run out of water?  Yes they do, but not often and not for long. There we continued up the mtn stopping at various places as he described what trees were good for what in building. This one is good for horizontal beams, this good for vertical, these are the trees that are the walls and this is the one that can extend into the ground.  A large leaf is used in the roof and is good for 15 years.  If you use another it will not last as long.

After the mild climb to the tower we looked around and took a break. While one thinks of these remote areas as being devoid of tech we find at the antenna a multitude of solar panels and a large bank of batteries. I would not have wanted to carry any 12 -D battery up that hill!  David is on Facebook and can use his cell phone from the beak outside his home. The community expects they’ll have cell service (and thus internet) in the next month as Digicel is putting in a new tower close by.  One of the Sila’s cranks up the generator every day and there is electricity for a few hours while people watch DVD’s and their TV’s.

Well rested we begin the journey back down. W/ had described the Appalachian Trail as “Rocks and Roots”, this trail was mostly roots with some sticky, thorny bushes thrown in. We detoured a bit on the way back and came through one of the community gardens where we sampled green Mango’s; which are very much like green slighty unripened apples, saw where they have a sugar cane press and ended up back where he is building his new home.

Hikin in da Jungle

He invited us the following day, should we accept, to travel onto the mainland with him and see his “Finka” garden where he was going to harvest 300 Avocado’s, pick up some coconuts and some limes. Of course we’d all go, that’s something we’ve been aching to see and participate in. Bauhaus in his guide said that might even happen down island and we might be expected to help carry some of his crop out.  No problem It would be well worth it.

Bright and early we met David and his friend Ricky at the town dock. We dinghied, towing him and Ricky in their Ulu (like a wooden canoe) over to the mainland and tied them to the

Amazing Climb

beach. There we hiked about 30 minutes inland to his large garden. He and his family have quite a few, said that there were 11 Avacodo trees there. With a 20 foot pole cut from a tree and a notch in the end he scampered up the first tree, no steps, no easy notch to get on and wedge your way up, he grabbed the trunk with both hands and placed both bare feet on the base and walked hand over hand, foot over foot up the 15′ or so to the nearest notch on the tree. Rickey handed him his pole and from various places he had wedged himself into he broke off large perfect Avacodos.  He told us the wholesale price to the Kuna is 10 cents each and to the trading boats 75 cents each. Since I believe most all the people in the community are related there didn’t appear to be anyone Kuna that would buy them for 10 cents and sell them to the trading boats for 75 cents. Had there been I’m quite sure that would have been discussed in their evening Congresso’s where the vast majority of residents attend 5 days a week.

After harvesting what was in that tree he spent time in several others and we had collected well over 100 avacados inside an hour. From there we packed them up and he and Ricky carried them to his next Finka where they harvested

A Break w/ Fresh Coconut

some limes, then on to some coconuts and finally they had a load,  packed it up and we began the walk out.  Ironically as much as we had offered to help, Ricky and David would have none of that and carried all the produce themselves.

About 40 minutes later we had arrived at a different destination as it was easier to load here, dropped the supplies, Ricky and the women; David, Larry and I walked another 10 to pickup the dinghies and move to load them.

What a morning! His day was 1/2 over and ours was complete. David was now going to work on his house this afternoon.  Good thing he’s only 24.  Tired as we were Larry and I did offer to help him and he accepted.  Damn!  I mean; GREAT!  So that afternoon after both of us had rested we went into become day laborers. We helped him set the remaining vertical poles for his house and begin to set the eve on the roof. As the Sun was setting, Larry and I were dragging, David was going strong, we excused ourselves and promised we would help him again tomorrow.

He needed to get a large, long pole out of the jungle tomorrow and asked if we could help him then. Certainly!  I do wish they used tape measures. The following am I awoke slightly sore but not incapacitated and waited. David had said he would go and cut the wood, then get Larry and I, the three of us would haul it out to the water’s edge, then tie it to the dinghy and tow it to by his new home.  We did that, while Larry and I could have carried it out; barely, we arranged each of us from shortest to tallest and hauled the LOG out carrying it on our shoulders.

Once in the water we tied it to the dinghy and slowly dragged it where his home was. We then hauled it up on our shoulders and brought it almost to it’s final resting place.  Now the work begins. First thing we do is have to move 4 of

Framing...Just About Finished

the vertical poles we had put in yesterday. They didn’t line up right and David had dug some new holes. We pulled the short poles out of the middle, moved them to the ends and replaced them with the longer ones. Most all the measuring was done by eyeball and what Larry and I wouldn’t have done for a tape measure and a line for leveling and chalking. But that’s not how homes are built here and while Larry tried to show a couple of different ways they would do it in the US, none of that had any importance.  No need. Works fine this way.

So we stayed day laborers.  We hauled, heaved, held and shoved what was needed to get things lined up, lifted up and

Removing Bark... The Old Way

put in place. We beat on a log to remove the bark. The log we carried out of the woods. He gave us a beater each we smacked the log with a great deal of force; the bark flew off like pigeons scattering from a dog at the town park. David had put on long pants, Larry and I were in shorts and he explained that the sap had an allergic effect. Oh-Oh!  When we finished my legs were covered with yellow green bark pulp!  We rinsed it off and I had thought of jumping in the ocean but the rinsing seemed thorough enough. Some of the bark had struck my legs (mostly my right one) with enough force to cut. So my leg looked pretty beat up but I wasn’t in any pain; yet. That completed and after the log dried  he measured  what the final dimension would be by using his hand.  We cut off about 5′.  Sure would have been easier hauling that thing out of the woods with 5′ less and 50 lbs less. That damn thing is heavy.

Once measured we were now needing to get the log up to the top of the poles. That’s were Larry and I came into play. David scampered up one of the vertical poles (how does he do that) and we man handled the log ( I hate to call it a piece of wood) up to him, he set it on the notch and then we handed the other end up to Ricky  who had scampered up the other pole. Setting it in place the house was starting to take shape.

While Larry and I then took a break for lunch it appeared that David kept working. When we returned a couple of hours later (yeah, we took an executive lunch) David had worked to get more structure up. We then were required to hold, sight, hold, tie pieces together (no nails), hold,  repeat. Way past my time for clocking out the girls came in. David had invited us to a Kuna Dinner and who were we to refuse such a gift. So before the Sun set and any bugs came

David Filos Family

out we sat down to dinner: Coconut rice, beans, and what looked like a canned meat product spiced, Juice and lots of giggles. David ate with us and his little girl, the rest of the family found other places to sit. I felt a little bad that I’m taking up one of the families seats, but like my momma use to say, my house my rules so as it’s their home, their country, their rules.

After much thanking, we took our leave. Exhausted. The following day W/ and I rested. Mainly I rested as IMHO W/ was already rested and then we were looking to continue our trek to Sapzurro, Hobo heading to Cartagena.

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long

Ustupu Anchorage, Kuna Yala, San Blas, Panama

Working our way East.  We left Snug harbor and ended up motor sailing down to Ustupu.  We’d been there before and liked the stop. It has  a calm anchorage, limited internet, and quite a good phone connection. We don’t know if we’ll have either for the next couple of months so W/ wants to make some calls, I’ll maybe get a blog post updated, we’ll pass on some medical supplies  Lions Paw gave us to give to the clinic there, we’ll give the school some supplies that we purchased a few months ago and enjoy the nice anchorage before we move to places we’d not been.

On the way down we tried to call Cherokee II ; who we saw heading back to the San Blas , on the VHF but never connected. They had just completed the run to Sapzurro and we had hoped to get some recent info. They never answered and I don’t know if they run without the radio or if the engine noise was too much and the radio was turned down.  They were inside and we had chosen to go outside hoping to get a little sailing in and a little less of the boom, boom, boom that the iron genny makes.

Hobo followed most of the way to Ustupu and they had their wings out (they’re a motor boat) keeping the boat from rolling so they liked the “no wind condition” and relatively flat seas.  We on the other hand would have liked the 10 knts or so that we started with. Just wasn’t to be.

Finally we arrived in Ustupu and made the trek ashore. We picked up Larry and Lena and dinghied into town. There we paid the 15 bucks anchor fee that covered one month’s worth of anchoring in the harbor under their jurisdiction. What it didn’t cover was any river trips. We had been up both rivers last year; up till the Kuna made us aware we were not allowed to go, but this year we were willing to hire a Kuna guide and wanted to see the one river as what we saw last year was quite spectacular. However there were some changes and we were not the benefit of them. One of the Kuna English speakers asked the Sila (Kuna Governor of the island) if they could take us and the answer was no.

One change I noticed was that most all the homesteads had privacy fences. The walls to their homes are all made with about 2″ diameter trees, cut to about a 5 foot height and then weaved together. Last year most of the family groupings had their homes close together and then an open space for family gathering, a few meters away there then was another family grouping. This year there were walls similar to what the wall of their hut is built out of and that is now used to fence off their family groupings. In addition, last year I don’t remember on any of their homes or buildings (except for the formal buildings like military, governmental, religious, or education); I don’t remember any locks. This year I saw many doors with locks. Slowly the Kuna seem to be leaving the luxurious safety of their world and entering the stressed world of the Industrialized Nations. The locks I fear are one of the first to show.

Vinancio Mola

After we had delivered the supplies to the school and clinic we walked with Larry and Lena looking for some more Molas. My only hope here is that W./ doesn’t get sucked into buying another… one or two or three. Although Molas are multicolored  and very intricately made,  IMHO there is a point where one has enough.  I do believe the point I”m at and W/ is at, is different.

While looking for the Mola places (one Mola school) and one place that we had met the store owners last year we also stopped at a couple of bakeries. With fresh bread in hand a Kuna restaurant to eat at and a good calm anchorage we were set. On our agenda Ustupu was a chill spot, a place to make calls to the US, keep updated with friends and family, rest, then head E and S some more.

IB and Becca on Passport had indicated they would head some E with us; but, with Emily (aka Legs) needing to leave in 3 weeks and Passport needing to head W in 4 or so they elected to hang in the Western San Blas.  We indicated that any Kuna would take Legs off their hands but neither Emily or the crew of Passport thought that was a practical solution. :)  Galivant and Liberty too had indicated they might share in the eastward adventure but they too seem reluctant to leave the serenity of the western San Blas.  We hoped that Hobo might follow a similar route as they’re planning on heading to Cartegena; however, as is usual in sailing circles, we were willing to go it alone.

We upped anchor and headed N around the Green Island group planning on staying as much inside the reefs as possible. A month or so ago we headed outside the reefs on our trip to Tigre and the seas were much larger then we wished and the ride slightly uncomfortable so we elected to stay inside the reef as much as possible heading down to Snug Harbor where we first made landfall when we had arrived in the San Blas, Panama almost one year ago.

We put the sails up and said “Good-bye” over the VHF to those in the anchorage. Before we were out of sight, Lions Paw announced over the VHF that Elysium actually has a mainsail.   The distance between anchorages in the Western San Blas is so close that we’ve not felt any need to put up more then the Yankee (our headsail). Trips are usually less then 5 miles apart and for the better part of 3 months there the mainsail stayed in it’s home, covered on top of the boom.

The sail to Snug was one of the nicest we’ve had here. A 25 mile trip with about 1/2 of the way inside the reefs. Once we passed Tigre and we were outside the reefs. the seas were still half of what they had been on our last trip in this direction.

At Snug we planed to spend a couple of days filling our water tanks, reading and

Snug Harbor, San Blas, Panama

enjoying the beauty of a place not often visited. Hobo (a Katy Krogan 42) came in a bit later, they did decide to head East same as us.

Building an Ulu

The following day we put the engine on the big dinghy and the five of us  (W/, I, Larry, Lena, and Black Dog Morgan) and two dinghies went to see Playon Chico (the Kuna community near Snug Harbor).  There Morgan was an instant hit. Most of the dogs; actually all the dogs we’ve seen in Kuna Yala are about the size of a large cat, so Morgan who is a rescue dog and a good part Border Collie was big enough that some of the Kuna kids wanted to ride him.  Of course Morgan being generally calm and good natured found this to be a bit inconvenient and did his best to quietly resist. He would however let the Kuna kids take his leash and walk with them. Larry; the alpha male, kept a good eye on things but there wasn’t all that much needing to watch for.

We crossed the foot bridge connecting the mainland to the island village and crossed from one end of the island to the other.  While we understand that a good part of the Ulu’s are now shaped with a chain saw there were a couple boats here being built that had an adz put to them for the finishing detail. We didn’t get to see an adz used. Damn; one tool I don’t have and don’t know how to use. :)  We visited a couple of Tiendas and picked up some supplies.

After a thorough tour of the village with Morgan leading 20 children down the paths between the thatched homes we began our trek across the foot bridge to the mainland where we had left our dinghies. I hung back to snap a few more pics and W/ carried on with our purchases; one bag of Kuna Bread, one bag of Cinnamon rolls and one bag of eggs.  There are no cartons for eggs in Kuna Yala; once purchased they go in a very light plastic bag; eggs are purchased individually, one or a hundred - what ever you want and what ever they have.  Somewhere midway across the bridge W/ decided to rearrange the goodies and there upon dropped the only bag that had something breakable in it. I came upon her stalled and close to tears (not that close) and she holding the bag out to me showing me the broken eggs, the whites and yokes oozing out the bottom and dripping on my feet; people are getting a little pushy attempting to get around us and I’m urging W/ to keep moving.  She’s not happy with the eggs, not happy with me not having more sympathy, and I’m not happy having the travelers push and shove with raw egg on my feet. Eventually she gets the idea I’m not mad, I think it’s mildly funny and it would be good to move; we cross the rest of the bridge and tell Hobo of our brief adventure.  Back at the boat we discover that one egg survived; it cost $2.50.

Walkin' da Runway

The following day the four and a half of us (Morgan is the half)  took another trip in. We figured to hike a bit. We had observed some interesting areas in the hills that maybe had a small Eco Lodge and we knew that; I should say we hoped that the  Airport didn’t have a scheduled flight in the afternoon because the runway would be a good part of our trail.  As we arrived the child that had lead Morgan around the day before magically appeared wanting to lead Morgan again and off we went. We found one what looked like an active trail and followed it up into the hills only to discover that it leads to a burial site.  As the Kuna consider these sites sacred we chose to abort our trip there and try another trail.  Although we didn’t get off the beaten path again we did discover a chicken farm by the side of the airport, we saw there was a room at the end that seemed like it was part of the airport for people to bring their computers and and do some….work?  Larry asked if there was internet there and they said no.  Who knows? We again walked across the foot bridge to town and what a difference.  It was jumping!

An Interisland Freighter

An inter-island freighter had arrived and we saw the same frenzied look on the Kuna as you do people shopping at a new Walmart. Next to the town dock there was a volleyball court where we watched some inter island competition.  The rules have to be slightly different because I saw 4 hits / side (in the US I think there are only 3) and I also saw that a couple of saves were made with feet and legs - I thought a  serious no- no.  However as the Kuna either hold the record for the the world’s shortest

Volley Ball, Playon Chico

population; or come damn close,  these guys could jump. One team had mostly bare feet playing on a cement court and the other team were mostly were covered with tennis shoe.  We marveled at the activity around the town center for a bit; watched most of a game and then worked our way across the foot bridge and back to the boats.

We were planning on leaving in the am and although we had been to this anchorage 4 times now we ‘d never been in our out on the E side; that’s how we had planned on leaving the following day traveling East to Ustupu.

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long

Thus, Lobster season for us passed without a bang.  IB and I were mostly skunked. We had spent the last 2 or was it 3 days in the water a minimum of 14  hours  :)  each, as long as there was light and  we were routinely shut out. Oh; we saw a lobster; one, that would have been a good catch for a small 100 gallon aquarium; but, those last few days we never saw a lobster large enough to get a decent chunk of meat out of.

So there we were the day after Lobster season, waxing away in our self pity when the girls; W/ and Legs,  decided to go snorkeling,

One half of the Bait Team

and in the early afternoon no less.  Every good fisherman innately knows that the big fish are NOT out dining when the Sun is high enough in the sky to spread its rays into every nook and cranny there is under

The other Half of the Bait

water.  But as neither IB nor I had much to do we acquiesced and said we’d go.  I of course would still carry my spear gun as if I would have left it on Elysium I’m sure I would have ended  up with dinner swimming  right up to my face,  stick it’s tongue out at me and bubble in the water. “Ha, Ha”! So I carried my gun. Today was a day the bio rythms  of luck  came together.

That morning I had just completed adding a new rubber on my spear gun. It’s a great gun; a Riffe, that I ended up having purchased two years ago in the Virgin Islands. We were in the VI’s and I wanted a good 3′ gun for spear fishing. The Bahamas spoiled me and I figured that  a 3 foot  gun  would give me a good 1-2 meter range and that would be enough to feed our boat.  We waited and waited for it to arrive at the dive shop and finally we just had to leave Charlotte Amalie so we went to the dive shop for a refund; we had to put a deposit on the gun as the shop owner  didn’t want the gun ordered and not bought and we had made it clear that we would be leaving in 2 weeks. “No Problem” he said, his supplier always shipped promptly and thus we would have it in time.  He didn’t want to lose a sale and I did want the gun so he let me have a 4′ gun for the same price I was paying for the 3′ gun.  Sweet!  I walked out of the dive shop smiling and W/ walked about 4 steps in front of me not wanting to be seen by the dork  (me) carrying a 4′ spear gun as we strolled down the water front of Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas.  Back in the boat we stowed the gun and took off.

Just a week ago,  and a couple of days before the end of Lobster Season I had accidentally dropped my 5′ lobster spear in about 80′ of water. IB volunteered to go grab his Scuba tank and we’d find find my spear as long as I keep the dinghy anchored in the same spot. I did stay anchored with the dinghy; we didn’t find the spear. We left a bit disheartened.

That’s how I had ended up lobstering with a 4′ Riffe spear gun. The first time I went out looking for the world record  bug (Lobster) one of the rubbers on the gun had broken. The gun has two and will actually handle 3.  Oh well.  For Lobsters one band would be enough. But at the end of Lobster season I needed my double bands back and that’s how I ended up putting a new band on the gun the morning after Lobster Season.

Legs is just about identical to W/  same size, same build and similar snorkeling attitude.  Surface snorkeling is good, looking around

IB Snorkeling Coordinator

is good, Sharks; Barracuda and BIG fish BAD! She is however a couple of years younger. They both believe; maybe with their petite size,  they’re the bait.   The 4 of us were on a fun snorkel  trip, I with my trusty spear gun, the girls with wide eyes and shallow dives (I noticed W/ needs a little weight added for improved free diving) and Legs was learning to surface dive,  IB  was assisting all of us while Becca elected to hang on Passport.

We were floating along a reef with a nice 20-30 foot ledge. I was looking for Cero Mackerel (we had seen a maybe 50 swim this ledge  the last day of Lobster Season and now I don’t see a one.)  Floating is the right word for this dive. We were out just after  high noon. the Sun illuminating us as stage actors, the water a little cloudy, the current basically nil and small fish abundantly hanging out in large schools.  We had floated about 1/2 way down the reef with the girls on look out for anything imaginably threatening (W/ will spot 10 sharks to my 1),  and Legs was constantly looking at her behind making sure there wasn’t anything attacking from that direction when she got IB’s attention and said she saw a BIG fish swimming slowly below and behind her. I was in front of the snorkeling party-  patrolling, with W/ then IB and finally Legs bringing up the rear.  IB told Legs it was a  Butter Fly and she said “NO!, the fish behind the fan thingie with the big tail”.  It was then that IB stuck his head out of the water and hollered at me, “Dave a big Grouper is down here!”.  I immediately turned around and there was a nice size grouper slowly cruising away from the reef towards deeper water.

As quickly and calmly as I could I dove down and scooted belly tight to the bottom towards the Grouper.  I think the fish was concerned with the 3 snorkelers on the surface as for the moment it paid me no attention. I approached the fish with the gun extended and knew I needed a good shot. There is always only one shot snorkeling with a spear gun and with a fish this size I wanted a good clean one as I  fear this size fish could easily drag me along to the bottom trying to escape with the spear stuck in him tied to the gun and me holding on! I crept up slowly towards him and he still seemed oblivious of me. I’m now within striking distance but to be more accurate and to make sure the spear penetrates I get as close as I can. He begins to turn and I fear swim for the depths. My air supply is getting short, my adrenaline is rising,  and about 8′ away from him I pull the trigger. While those above said they could  hear the spear launch, the Grouper appeared to have missed the sound and it looks like I struck him about where I was aiming and have  a good clean kill. As I  swim closer I see that the spear has indeed penetrated him  just above the spine, slightly behind the head and he slowly rolls over; I hope, dead.  I grab the spear and swim slowly towards the surface hauling the BIG fish behind me.  The girls estimate 7 lbs (obviously all those years of guys lying to them about size and length has had it’s effect), IB estimated 30 lbs and I thought in the 20 lb range. I offered to take the grouper to the dinghy and then come back and join them on a continuation of our snorkel trip.

I grab the fish through his eye sockets and begin my swim back to our inflatable dinghy.  There was a  Remora hanging on the Grouper and he still wants to hang by him. I don’t care. I’m full of adrenaline and conscious that moving a dead fish in the water can still offer dangers. The Grouper barely stirs, he’s either dead from a great shot on my part or died of a heart attack when he realized there was something bigger than him out here and indeed this time he was the hunted.

At the dinghy I try to hoist him aboard. Out of the water he is heavier. Damn fish must be more then 20 lbs.  I try to launch him up and over the side of the dinghy and fail. In  trying to get him in the boat I’m required to be extremely careful and not puncture a hole in on to the dinghy tubes with the pointy end of the spear protruding from the catch, after all since an inflatable can be blown up it can also be flatten. I don’t want to remove the spear till he’s in the boat, just in case he’s faking death and only taking a nap. I move around to the stern and using the stern as a lever I get part of the spear on it and lever the Fish up over the transom and into the boat. I’m exhausted. Fortunately IB and the twin bait (W/ and Legs) decided that they too should come back!  The Ramora is looking for another partner and decides to attach to Legs first; for all of 3 seconds, before she flies out of the water and into the dinghy, second W/ who’s not fond of her new relationship  with the Remora and she too exits rather quickly; this time not requesting any help to get in the dinghy having enough motivation to do it entirely on her own, followed a few minutes later by IB who had fun teasing the Remora while it attempts  to seek a relationship with him.  All aboard the dinghies we now we marvel at how big this fish  we all participated in catching is. With W/ and Legs the bait, IB being the go between and I the shooter. We may have discovered a new and better way to spear fish.

We have to  brag. We dinghy over to Infinity ( Frank and Gretchen - Frank being the best spear fisherman of the gringos in the San Blas; easily diving past 50′ and then shooting a fish), Audrey Paige (Dennis and Alaine) and finally to Passport where Becca decides

Becca keeping the Fort Secure

we must celebrate with a bottle of wine.  We crack open - for us,  not the fish. The decision is made to clean the fish on Elysium as our cockpit is large enough, we thought the dinghy wouldn’t be stable enough swinging a sharp filet knife,  and the beach not clean enough. At Audrey Paige we measured the catch.  Dennis has a formula for calculating the weight. The fish was 43″ long with a 30″ girth and his formula resulted in 48.3 lbs.  How many fish like  that will I ever have a chance at shooting again?

Becca was running errands in and out of our boat as she was the only one dry, W/was  directing and trying her best to keep the area clean. Legs did her best to keep Gus, the Grouper (yeah, the girls had to name the fish) from sliding around and keep it upright while I wielded the filet knife, and once the filets were off IB then removed the skin. Amazing; to do this with 4 people took about 2 hours.

Gus the Grouper with Bait and Shooter

We washed and then divied up the horde of meat, giving about 1/3 of it away.  The rest was to be consumed this evening and then frozen on Passport and Elysium. Right now I’m exhausted and going to take a shower while attempting to clean up the scales and fish slim hanging about in the cockpit.  What a day, hanging out in Kuna Yala, snorkeling and chatting with friends, blue water,  gorgeous beaches, spear fishing, cleaning fish, eating fish, and living to lie about it another day. Ain’t nothing better!

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long

So with sails set we settled in for a nice 3 hour ride. Once outside of the protection of the Holandes Cays the seas began to build.  We tow our two dinghies most everywhere in the San Blas and they were having a ball sliding down the waves behind us.  The now 10-12 footer waves would slide underneath Elysium trailing a  slick of foam as we slipped over and down the backsides; the dinghy’s would run off first to port as the wave approached  and as it shot by they would then bang together and run off to starboard.  We watched them making sure neither one broke loose.  Each dinghy has two separate tow lines attached so even if one line parts we have a safety line on. However, neither line can prevent the dinghies from becoming twisted up, prevent them from turning  turtle, or simply filling with water.  We’ve never had one on this cruise turn turtle but we’ve had the hard dinghy fill with water and we’ve had the two dinghies twist up their tow lines. Now I keep both dinghies equal distant from the boat on a short leash and that seems to have helped keep them where they belong.

While we waited for our turn south and anticipated an improved motion to the boat Passport was keeping pace behind us. They started out later and as we’re hauling two dinghies we expected them to pass us but IB chose to keep the reef in his mainsail and so they mirrored most of our moves.

Turning south didn’t seem to help much. Here we had to watch closer for reefs. With these seas they show up like a moon on a clear night as the waves crash and break over them.  We watched the charts, kept an eye on the GPS and stayed ever alert for the breaking seas. No matter what charts and GPS’s show, it is land that we must always avoid. If the chart shows plenty of water and the seas are breaking we listen to Neptune and avoid those specific areas.

We made it around the reefs and after an hour more we’re anchored behind Isla Tigre with 3 other boats including Hobo. Hobo we met in Colon and they’re completing their circumnavigation on a  powerboat having decided 90% of the way around they were not going to do any more oceans. :)  Once they reach Cartagena they’ve completed their circle. Larry (on Hobo) stopped by to tell us of some of the activities the following day.

The anchorage was rolly, and seems to always have been when we’ve visited. This is actually the first time we’ll have been ashore although it’s the third time we’ve been here. Always in the past it’s been a transit stop.

Passport (IB, Becca, and Emily - aka Legs) and us went ashore for a pre festivities scouting trip.  We walked the entire length of the island from the school on the East end to the community commercial  restaurant  next to the not used airport on the west end. There we discovered that most huts have a solar panel, there is a large group of pigs next to one of the churches on the north end, and we found the congressional building and square where the festivities will take place tomorrow.

Eight am we were up and ready. A little late as the festivities we had been told were to have started by 7:30 am  but we hoped that was South American time where nothing starts at the said hour. The generator was run, refrigeration and freezer was at the optimum temp, battery for the camera was charged and we were ready. We left the dinghy at the commercial dock and wandered the 100 m to the Congresso (large bldg where they met and discuss political, economic, and social needs of the island). There a Kuna invited us to enter and we began the task of figuring out what was said without an understanding of either Kuna, or Spanish. Our Kuna guide attempted to translate what was happening into Spanish but once W/ let him know our Spanish was only slightly better then our understanding of Kuna he was satisfied to let us watch.  The speeches seemed to be focusing on their conversations of seeking independence from their Panamainin overlords in the first part of the 20th century.  That completed we all went out to the square and the show started.

Kuna Dance

This part of the festivities was comprised of about 20 skits depicting the events that lead up to the Kuna revolution and was interspersed with their song and dance. The instruments were small Bamboo flutes tied together with cord, Gords filled with seeds, and their bare feet slapping the ground set the beat just as a percussion instrument would.  The males played the flutes and the women shook the gourds.  I don’t know if this is standard in all of Kuna Yala or if this is only they way this dance troupe performs.

About 20 of the Sila’s (local community governors) were at the event and sat in the seats (they had chairs for them) lined up

Gringos in the Sun

on the N side of the square, the locals and guests smartly hung out on the East side (in the shade) and us gringos lined up on the West side (in the

Silas of Kuna Yala

Sun).  The seating arrangement reminded me of the ol’ Florida line of how you tell a Cracker (Floridian) from a Yankee (anyone not from Florida)? The Yankees in the Sun!

The skits began with various events surrounding the Panamanian overlords making demands on the Kuna that were contrary to their cultural life. They disrupted their celebrations of coming of age of their youth, they disrupted their Finkas (farms) and their ability to harvest. They disrupted their clothing custom. They didn’t just do this by

Follow the rules or else!

administrative fiat but by fiat and then beating the daylights out of the Kuna and finally dragging them off to incarcerate them.  All the skits had this same theme. They had foam bats taped up to look like pieces of wood and when they smacked the Kuna there was a pistol like pop, they had a method of then seeding the victim with blood so there was evidence of  physical bodily harm. After one or two skits they would have their dance and music while

Panama's attempt at cultural cleansing

they prepared for the next one. There appeared to be no limits on who could participate although we were later told that all participation was voluntary.  In some of the skits there were small children (under I’m estimating 5 years old) and when their father was getting beaten or their mother was having their beads cut off her legs and she was physically resisting, the child was in tears. We were told the skits had been rehearsed up to a month prior this day. But  the screams, wails, and tears of a few of the children seemed quite real. Their mom and or their dad was suffering great harm.

After the morning events; I dare not really call them festivities, we returned for the afternoon conclusion where the Kuna rose up and threw off the Panamanian overlords. The Kuna chose to have a party which was forbidden by the Panamanians. This they hoped would lure the officials out into the open. Here

Bait at the Dance

Legs  (Emily) was invited to dance with a Kuna (she accepted - she’s single) and they danced to the the Beatles (yes the Beatles Group from England) music and lured 4 Panamanian officials to the party. There, a dozen Kuna hid about the perimeter and when the Panamanians came to arrest the dancers they were jumped, beaten, and killed or kicked out of the territory.

Last came the political speeches and by then I had had too much of not comprehending what was being said. I chose this time to stroll around the island. I found the bakery and took some more pictures.  Becca (from Passport) followed and finally we were able to signal W/, IB, and Legs to leave the political speeches and we strolled  back to the restaurant, had some refreshments and W/ and I  a bite to eat.

At the restaurant  we met the Sila’s son (who actually worked in Bocas Del Torro, Panama) and he spoke enough English that we could ask him questions about the events and their significance.  He learned English by watching movies and his English was MUCH better then our Spanish!  He told us pieces of the story that we may have missed. He told us while 99% of the people of the island seemed to be at the celebration a many of them had a family member that had been directly  involved in the oppression or the revolution. They could actually remember their father or mother, aunt or uncle talking about it, being beaten, or being arrested.

While we too celebrate our revolution on the 4th of July, no American understands the causes and results as intimately as the Kuna know the story of their own revolution and independence.

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long

After we took our trip to Panama City we slide on up to the East Lemons where we hired Justino (a local Kuna) to do some work on the boat. We paid him $20.00 / day, lunch and usually a beer after work.  He brought his son to hang out with him the first day and althogh his son had a tooth ache he was quite pleasant. He played with Dads cell phone, watched Dad work and he slept. Dad asked for something to help his son with his tooth ache and as we had some “Baby Aspirin” we gave him some. That helped his son tolerate the tooth ache and survive the day.  When Justino gets back to his home island he will take Junior over to the Dr.  in the Carti islands and have the tooth removed for $5.00 US.

Justino worked three days with us; washing the boat; polishing the Stainles Steel, and washing and waxing the hull. All jobs I have an aversion to. From the E Lemons we gave Justino a ride of about 5 nm to the West Lemons so he could find work on another cruisers boat.

We were running out of Propane and although W/ is finding some joy in cooking she isn’t in the high use catageory for Propane so as we get close to 6 months of use I’ve learned we’re close to being out. We also hauled Passports tank in (they have 2 x 10 lb bottles) to one filled. In the W. Lemons they transfer the Propane via the gravity method.

I laid the bottle out with ours closer to the door hoping it would get filled fist as we were actually out of Propane because we have only one tank and Passport was only on their second bottle and were fine. Now we’re into cold foods. Not that I was going to suffer, after all Beer is IMHO best consumed cold,
but W/ (truth be told) misses cooking. Wouldn’t you know it; we had a 50/50 chance of getting our tank filled first and they
grabbed Passports bottle and filled it and then they were out of Propane! We ended up waiting 3 days before more Propane was brought in on a Panaga so we could be whole again. There we sailed on down to meet up with Passport and dive and play for a few days in Nargargonedup before we again when to Nomomulo for the Girls to go into Panama City. Then I would be out of all my Macbooks and only have the Netbook and an iPad to whine to the world out our woes.

I’ve often been asked what changes we would make to the boat after the few years we’ve been out. Our Propane setupis one change I would make. I’d try to see if I could squeeze 3 x 10 lb tanks in the locer or at the least 2 x 10 lb tanks. Then when one tank would run out I could still have warm food while the other tank was being filled. It’s not to late to change. It’s just that to change now takes longer then if we were living ashore in home waters, and keeps us in one spot, too while the boat is messed up while living in the pig stye. At this point, not what we want to do, so we’ll live with it.

Additionally, I like to post a picture or two on each blog entry but on the Netbook I don’t have the software to optimize the pictures and post them so those of you that actually read a blog will find no changes but for those of you that read a blog to look at the pictures, for awhile you’re just out of luck.

Go Slow
Sail Far
Stay Long