"Flying is cheating, flying is cheating!" One girl I met put it really succintly, and so I was determined to sail to Cartagena from Panama. Not a cheap trip at $400, but an adventure and an opportunity to see the San Blas islands, home to the Kuna people, who run it as an autonomous part of Panama. The entire local economy is based on gathering coconuts, which for them is the local currency that grows on trees, and selling fish and lobsters and renting out hut space to the hordes of backpackers who visit.
There was initially the constraint of time, would there be a boat available when I needed to go? Secondly, would it be a good boat with a good crew? I met René and Ina a German couple in the first hostel Hospedaje Casco Viejo, he had done a lot of research on the net and was convinced he had found a good boat. A keen sailor himself, he had been very meticulous. I got in touch with the booking agent at Hostel Wunderbar, whose husband also runs a boat, and she assured me that she knew the crew, that they were reliable, that the boat was good and that the food would be good. She refused to give out the name of the captain and the boat as she said there was such intense competition between hostels, she didn't want to lose her monopoly on the boat. As the Footprint guidebook recommended Wunderbar, I was happy to go with it.
Unfortunately, there was no way of checking it and to board, I needed to go from Panama City to Puerto Colon and then on to Puerto Lindo where there was the yacht club. Colon is utterly bizarre. It is a major port and tax free zone with a huge closed shopping complex, but the old city itself is tolally lawless. The old buildings have tin shacks built within them and on them. Sadly, I didn't have my camera to hand, but the net effect was as if Gugulethu had been superimposed onto District 6. The only certainty is that you are going to be mugged eventually, although there were sufficient cops around the bus station to make it reasonably safe. Whilst waiting for the chicken bus that would take me on to Puerto Lindo, I was amused to see one pull up with the legend, "Los ricos tambien lloran". The journey was a further hellish 4 hours. I met 2 guys whom I assumed to be the crew, and I should have trusted my judgement there and then. However, the captain, a 67 year old Texan presented himself well and made all sorts of promises about what the trip would be like. The truth was somewhat different. Afterwards, we surmised that the crew had spent the time drinking rather than preparing (As I was to hear Bill the captain say during the trip, "alcohol is my companion but is not my freeyend"). We were stuck in Puerto Lindo for 2 days, there were no fresh vegetables to be had, which depressed me enormously. My fellow passengers were good people, René and Ina, a very bright physics graduate, Paul and Daniel a sometime Australian surfer who was a force of nature. After being told we had to depart before nightfall, we were hustled on to the boat after night fall, nothing was in place, but we were in good spirits and happy to be under way.
There was no wind to speak of, so we motored all through the night to San Blas, and the castaway desert island scenery was stunning. We were all convinced it was going to pan out well. We spent the day exploring Chichimi island, snorkelling and exploring a wreck that had run aground on the reef. By the time René, Ina and I returned to the boat in the evening, the captain who had drunk a vast quantity of rum had passed out, with a little puddle of vomit on the floor next to the bunk, the other crew member was nowhere to be seen. there was no power on the boat, no way to cook, to have a shower, or to read even. Besides which it was getting cold as the wind blew up. Other yachts were going out for a sail and enjoying the wind. Not us, I sat on the deck and played the guitar. Eventually, the first mate swam to the boat. He had been drinking on the island and was worse for wear. It fell to René and me to prepare dinner, we were so relieved to eat, that we let it go. We figured the captain needed to unwind too after being up all night, after all he was one of the most courteous gentlemen I have met. He used to greet us after every expedition with "Did you have fun and did you learn anything?".... 
The chicken bus in Colón.. "Los Ricos Tambien lloran"
René and Ina
René and Paul
Group photo at Chichimi Island. Turner (first mate), Daniel, Bill (captain) René and Ina
Exploring the wreck that had run aground on the reef by Chichimi
A star fish in the crystal clear waters
René spotted this sting ray, and we had fun following it for quite a while, but they are graceful and fast and it eventually disappeared into the murk.
Classic Robinson Crusoe castaway island by Chichimi
Chichimi island
A rare floral treat in the midst of sand, coconut palms and course weeds and succulent plants.
Kuna fisherman hawking their catch
Sergeant major fish going ballistic over some food debris
Cayo Limón looking towards Darien, the inhospitable all but impassable part of the isthmus before the Colombian border.
The waning sun Cayo Limón
Our crew + Paul and Daniel off to the bar in Cayo Limón
Our meagre lobster/crab ration to feed 7 hungry people
Paul and Paul waiting for the potatoes to boil
Daniel and Ina breakfasting on deck
Ina adding colour to the boat and mango peel to the sea
Sunset at sea
Land at last! Our first view of the Cartagena skyline
There was initially the constraint of time, would there be a boat available when I needed to go? Secondly, would it be a good boat with a good crew? I met René and Ina a German couple in the first hostel Hospedaje Casco Viejo, he had done a lot of research on the net and was convinced he had found a good boat. A keen sailor himself, he had been very meticulous. I got in touch with the booking agent at Hostel Wunderbar, whose husband also runs a boat, and she assured me that she knew the crew, that they were reliable, that the boat was good and that the food would be good. She refused to give out the name of the captain and the boat as she said there was such intense competition between hostels, she didn't want to lose her monopoly on the boat. As the Footprint guidebook recommended Wunderbar, I was happy to go with it.
Unfortunately, there was no way of checking it and to board, I needed to go from Panama City to Puerto Colon and then on to Puerto Lindo where there was the yacht club. Colon is utterly bizarre. It is a major port and tax free zone with a huge closed shopping complex, but the old city itself is tolally lawless. The old buildings have tin shacks built within them and on them. Sadly, I didn't have my camera to hand, but the net effect was as if Gugulethu had been superimposed onto District 6. The only certainty is that you are going to be mugged eventually, although there were sufficient cops around the bus station to make it reasonably safe. Whilst waiting for the chicken bus that would take me on to Puerto Lindo, I was amused to see one pull up with the legend, "Los ricos tambien lloran". The journey was a further hellish 4 hours. I met 2 guys whom I assumed to be the crew, and I should have trusted my judgement there and then. However, the captain, a 67 year old Texan presented himself well and made all sorts of promises about what the trip would be like. The truth was somewhat different. Afterwards, we surmised that the crew had spent the time drinking rather than preparing (As I was to hear Bill the captain say during the trip, "alcohol is my companion but is not my freeyend"). We were stuck in Puerto Lindo for 2 days, there were no fresh vegetables to be had, which depressed me enormously. My fellow passengers were good people, René and Ina, a very bright physics graduate, Paul and Daniel a sometime Australian surfer who was a force of nature. After being told we had to depart before nightfall, we were hustled on to the boat after night fall, nothing was in place, but we were in good spirits and happy to be under way.
There was no wind to speak of, so we motored all through the night to San Blas, and the castaway desert island scenery was stunning. We were all convinced it was going to pan out well. We spent the day exploring Chichimi island, snorkelling and exploring a wreck that had run aground on the reef. By the time René, Ina and I returned to the boat in the evening, the captain who had drunk a vast quantity of rum had passed out, with a little puddle of vomit on the floor next to the bunk, the other crew member was nowhere to be seen. there was no power on the boat, no way to cook, to have a shower, or to read even. Besides which it was getting cold as the wind blew up. Other yachts were going out for a sail and enjoying the wind. Not us, I sat on the deck and played the guitar. Eventually, the first mate swam to the boat. He had been drinking on the island and was worse for wear. It fell to René and me to prepare dinner, we were so relieved to eat, that we let it go. We figured the captain needed to unwind too after being up all night, after all he was one of the most courteous gentlemen I have met. He used to greet us after every expedition with "Did you have fun and did you learn anything?"....
The next day. we motored to another group of islands to explore and snorkel, bought some very underage lobsters and then moved on to another island where there was a bar. My heart sank. Of course, the captain and first mate got totally and boringly drunk. Paul and I cooked this time, but the first mate was obstreperous and obstructive. Our vegetables had either run out or rotted and this was just the 2nd day! Our tiny lobsters could barely afford more than a morsel for each of us, and we were not allowed to grill them. What a waste! Morale took a turn for the worse.
The next day we went to Porvenir to clear immigration. Somehow they made a horlicks of that too, and we were stuck waiting for them on the boat for 7 hours. Daniel who was with them, told us that they drank whilst waiting to sort out the paper work. We finally started out at 6pm, into a headwind, meaning we had a very low speed over ground. We calculated that we had up to 70 hours of this hell to endure, with ham, vile processed stale bread, and eggs. On the 2nd day the water started running out too. We were unable to shower. The toilet which was totally foul became worse; it improved slightly after Bill cleaned it, the first mate somehow didn't feel it was part of his job description. The water that remained tasted foul too.. We all sank into a state of listless torpor, the sun was too fierce to spend too much time on deck during the day. The space was limited and we all had to work hard not to fray each others' nerves. To make matters worse, René caught Turner (the first mate) stealing our rum whilst we we at sea. He was pathologically unable to stop drinking. Bill, to his credit, did work hard and genuinely did want us to have a good time. But it was all too late, and though he made sure we got safely to our destination and was grateful for the help he gave him during the 3 long nights at sea, he knew in his heart of hearts that it had been a dreadful ride. His wife greeted us at the dock and she was horrified to hear our tale of the voyage. She normally travelled on board and saw to the food and housekeeping, but had remained in Cartagena to put the finishing touches on a historic novel she was writing. I am sure the trip would have been completely different had she been with us. She had prepared shopping lists and menu plans that had been nowhere in evidence.
I have to admit though that the following photos give the impression of an idyllic trip.
I have to admit though that the following photos give the impression of an idyllic trip.
The chicken bus in Colón.. "Los Ricos Tambien lloran"
René and Paul
Group photo at Chichimi Island. Turner (first mate), Daniel, Bill (captain) René and Ina
Exploring the wreck that had run aground on the reef by Chichimi
A star fish in the crystal clear waters
René spotted this sting ray, and we had fun following it for quite a while, but they are graceful and fast and it eventually disappeared into the murk.
Classic Robinson Crusoe castaway island by Chichimi
Chichimi island
A rare floral treat in the midst of sand, coconut palms and course weeds and succulent plants.
Kuna fisherman hawking their catch
Sergeant major fish going ballistic over some food debris
Cayo Limón looking towards Darien, the inhospitable all but impassable part of the isthmus before the Colombian border.
The waning sun Cayo Limón
Our crew + Paul and Daniel off to the bar in Cayo Limón
Our meagre lobster/crab ration to feed 7 hungry people
Paul and Paul waiting for the potatoes to boil
Daniel and Ina breakfasting on deck
Ina adding colour to the boat and mango peel to the sea
Sunset at sea
Land at last! Our first view of the Cartagena skyline
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