Sailing the Spanish Main: Cartagena to Portobelo via the San Blas Islands; November 2014

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November 4-29, 2014

Puerto Velero, near Barranquilla, Colombia

I signed on to crew for Captain Dick aboard Solitaria, a 39' Fontaine Pagot catamaran, late of Marmaris, Turkey.  He was moving the boat from Barranquilla, Colombia, to Portobelo, Panama via the San Blas Islands. Interestingly, I saw the sister ship to Solitaria  while I was sailing in Turkey. Small world!

 At  the Copa Airline check in counter in Orlando, I was surprised when I was asked how and when I was leaving Colombia. When I told them I was leaving by boat, they said I must have either a return ticket or a document from the Captain with my passport number, boat  info and float plan on it before I could be authorized to enter Colombia. This at 530 in the morning! There was nothing to do but call Captain via Skype and pray for a miracle.... amazingly, he picked up. He emailed me the necessary documentation and I was allowed to board my flight. I arrived in Barranquilla, Colombia in good order, ws met by the Captain and took a cab to the grocery store where we picked up 500,000 pesos worth of stuff (2000 pesos per USD) and went to the boat.   

When the second crew member, Yoyo, arrived, we made ready to depart.  She is from Argentina, and as a native speaker of Spanish, was helpful in translating and navigating on shore visits. 

 My last meat meal for three weeks.

 Depart Puerto Velero for Cartagena , about 6am .

We departed Puerto Velero Marina and sailed all the way until the approach to the harbor at Cartagena. Wind blew northerly 14-18 kts . I worked the windlass and Yoyo handled the sails for a start. We sailed 50 nm  to Cartagena, arriving in the late afternoon, the high city skyline a contrast to the unfinished flatness of Puerto Valero and the green hills of the coast. We dropped anchor and watched the city light up, the cranes of the port working non-stop through the night, and the statue of the Virgin Mary in the middle of the Virgen Bay channel.

In Virgen Harbour, Cartagena

 My shipmates dropped me off to explore the Old City of Cartagena  while they went to look for "Camping Gaz" a specific type of propane with specific gas regulator fitting. I wandered through the old city for six hours. It was overcast and threatening rain, and had been raining on and off all night. I discovered that it was Cartagena's Independence Day and that there would be parades and celebrations all day.  I ate lunch at a cathedral square, admired the famous Botero bronze of the fat lady, photographed buildings and the fruit vendors in their traditional dresses with basins of fruit on their heads. 

Bronze by Botero. She is very popular!

Fruit vendor ladies.

 As I sat enjoying a limonade, itinerant musicians came and played--a guitar, sax and flamenco dancer, who wore a little pork pie hat. Funny that I didn't see Flamenco in Barcelona, but did here, on the other side of the world.

Fantastico!

Later, at the other end of the town wall, I watched a military parade. First came a group of flag-bearing riders in crisp dress uniforms on black Frisian horses, followed by squads of all branches of the armed forces, marching in step, sergeants barking..."isquierda, isquierda" ("left, left") .

Military evening wear???

 Next came the military band, drums thundering.  What a laugh I had when the marching xylophones busted loose with “Jingle Bells”! I wandered on, and chanced upon another  parade, with troupes of young dancers. The crowd was cheerful, and teens sprayed aerosol cans of soap suds overhead, which came down like snow and added a playful dimension.

 Very colorful and fun. The sky continued to lower, then in sprinkled, then it absolutely  poured. The dancers boogied on unfazed, with streets awash in six inches of water.

The rain poured down.

Cartagena to Boca Chica, Colombia

In the morning we head to the grocery store to provision, then return to the boat, stow things away , and get underway around 1:45 pm. We motor from anchorage in Virgen Bay of Cartagena. It was an eight mile trip to Boca Chica, a coastal island south of Cartagena. We stayed aboard the boat that evening.

Boca Chica to Isla Grande /Islas Rosarios group, Colombia.

Not much wind, motored, the but the sea was a washing machine; took a small dose of sea sick meds just for good measure. As we were exiting Boca Chica channel, Dick put out the Cuban reel and we hooked a big fish, a Jack Cravalle which didn't have much fight in it and was boated with ease. 

Not generally considered good eating in the US, it was delicious smoked.

We put it in a bucket to clean later. On the approach to Isla Grande. we nearly drove the boat up on a reef.  Dick was having trouble avoiding striking the reef when a local guy named Mori  hurriedly paddled his kayak over, climbed aboard and guided us into the anchorage. There was a free mooring ball provided by the government. Mori helped us moor, commented on the fish (good eating!), gave us green coconuts, and finally left after accepting a tip. 

 I filleted the fish; we got a lot of meat.

 There were many posh homes on the waterfront, once belonging to drug lords.  Just beyond them life was much poorer and the typical homes were built of corrugated and thatch. We walked in the gathering dusk to the see local aviary.

A caracara

Then back to the boat. Dick smoked the fish on the stove top; it was delish.

Isla Grande, Colombia, bound for the Coast of Panama

We went snorkelling on the reef in the mid-morning. The water was little murky but there were some colorful reef fish. Dick determined that we should set sail for Panama at nightfall. We got underway by 5 pm, wind at 15 kt. The topping lift broke around 11 pm, and the boom swinging wildly threatened to damage the bimini top. Yoyo and I hoisted Dick up the mast in the bosun's chair---in the dark, while underway.

  At the masthead  he discovered that the internal halyard had slipped down inside the mast. (oops, gotta hire a rigger $$$)  He jury-rigged a line to support the boom.  All of us were exhausted, nobody slept. Yoyo chose the first three hour watch starting at 9 pm, Dick took the graveyard watch from midnight to 0300, and I got dawn patrol from 0300 to 0600 (my favorite watch!).

Relaxing on the trampoline.

At Sea.  

 Nobody slept during the first night or day. In 24 hours we did only 55 miles (you can walk that fast). Floundering with no wind, Dick didn't want to use any fuel. The second night we kept the same watch schedule. Slept better, and the wind blew around 25 kt during my watch. Following swells pushed us along. In the mid morning a pod of about 20 dolphins joins us and stayed for a couple of hours.

The leapt out of the water and did barrel rolls !

 We all went up on the trampoline to watch. One more night at sea, same watch schedule, only this time we motor (at last!).

The pink line is our course from Cartagena, Colombia to Isla Iguana in  Panama;170 nm..

Arrive Iguana Island/Devil Keys, Panama,   at 6 am.   

 After a 60 hour passage (three nights and two days offshore) with an average speed of ~2.5 kts. (fast walking-speed)  we traveled ~170 nm. As we anchored and were making breakfast, a local guy who had been partying all night came out and cheerfully danced for us on the beach. I jumped up and did a little dance in return, and got cheers and waves from shore.

Isla Iguana, our first glimpse of  the San Blas Islands.

The village cacique, the chief's deputy, came aboard to greet us and issue us a visitors' permit for his island for $5 USD.

El Cacique

I offered him coffee, which he accepted with great dignity. He told us they were having a village chicha party, which can go on for a couple of days, good-natured  fun. You could hear Andean pipes and drums playing from time to time. Later we went ashore and were escorted on a tour of the village by the Cacique, then ended the visit with buying molas.

 I bought a traditional design made by Iskit, a nice young lady. She declined to be photographed but was friendly and willing to chat with me.

Public health notes (feel free to skip this if you'd rather retain the idyllic island image)...

Household privies are built at the end of docks, so the beach is the sanitary waste disposal area for the village. The laughing little kids playing in the water are quite literally splashing in raw sewage. This also made an impression on me since I had been swimming laps around the boat earlier in the day! On the brighter side, most permanently occupied islands have water under pressure piped over from clean rivers on the mainland, so their water supply is relatively pure and abundant. What a blessing that is to those communities.

The little thumbs-up guy on the left kept blowing kisses at me.  I wanted to kiss and hug them all.

Iguana Island to unoccupied island in Devil Keys. 

We move the boat in the early afternoon to a neighboring deserted cay. I went snorkeling. The reef was in OK condition, the fish were shy. I snorkeled over to the nearby isle. A strong current was running, so I went to the island. I had it all to myself . I walked over to the ocean side of the island, quite alone, and shed my suit to swim and lounge in the shade of a coconut palm. Back on the boat, some Kuna divers came along late in the afternoon and sold us two big lobsters for $10. I cleaned and cooked them, and served them with creamy potatoes with garlic butter, and sliced tomatoes. What a treat!

Devil Keys (Cayos Diablos) to Eastern Coco Banderos. 

 We anchor off a small islet occupied by a family of Kunas who operate a backpacker hostel consisting several palapas and running water and a nice privy. A large group of "San Blas to Colombia Adventure" kids were there, a three week trip for less that $400 inclusive, two boatloads of them. They had gone native, wearing Kuna headbands and beaded anklets, a thin red stripe painted down the nose. Some of the backpackers boys were skinny dipping at our end of the island, just kids at heart.

 Later, at dusk a Chilean boat came in and anchored way too close, Capt. had to have a word with them in his Tarzan Spanish about moving the boat. Boats from many countries were here; Norway, France, Chile, Belgium.  We dinghy over to this island and walked around. I wished a sweet-natured Kuna lady, Rosalinda, a happy 72nd birthday.

The molas here are of a more contemporary design.

We dinghied over a little jewel of an islet, with turquoise colored sandy spit off one end perfect for lolling under overhanging coconut palms, where lots of cruisers were indeed lolling. We went on to another island, with huts of a Kuna family who are caretakers of a coconut grove. The Dad came out to meet us, Mom who looked like she might like a chat, and teenaged son sitting under a tree looking dreamily out to sea... . We then dinghied back toward the boat and anchored off a reef for snorkeling. Pretty nice corals, the fish were shy. The smart ones, that is.

Yoyo bought three small lobster for $6, (later I made a nice risotto from the stock and head meat.). While they were preparing the lobsters I rowed over to the Norwegian Hallberg Rassey “Imagine” just to talk with someone new.  I met Tor and Jan, old friends and sailing buddies, and they offered me a glass of wine. They welcomed the diversion just as much as I did, with lots of laughs and congeniality. I had a few bites of pasta and lobster with them, then reluctantly rowed back to the boat to have the same pasta and lobster aboard Solitara.  I invited them to join us for coffee in the morning. 

The Vikings, Tor and Jan.

Eastern Cocos Banderos  Cayos to Nargana/Rio Diablo.. 

"The Vikings" Tor and Jan came for coffee and a breakfast of french toast. We learned from them that clearing in to Panama may cost $150 for the vessel and $100 per crew member. Yikes!  We went into town at Nargana on the Rio Diablo ( interestingly, the adjoining community is Corazon de Jesus!), landed at a dinghy dock  and took a little walk. The streets are clean raked sand, with kids playing happily. Lots of  kids.

 We check in some local shops and found oranges, potatoes, onions, cabbages, tomatoes, produce with good shelf life. During several stops, we bought fresh Kuna bread in small, pointed loaves, passion fruit, and sour oranges.

 I talked with local man about the apparent good health enjoyed by all . He said that there was a full time doctor in attendance, and also made a point to tell me that the people here are happy. It shows.  Back on the boat, we found that the ship's water supply was running low. Later in the afternoon we loaded the dinghy up with enough jerry cans to carry 118 liters and went in search of fresh water .(Regrettably, I left my camera behind on that trip).  Because the water system has fallen into disrepair, the people now must take their dugout canoes, called ulus, three miles up the Rio Diablo to fetch water. One large (~20 gallon) barrel will serve a family of four for about four days, I was told. Some ulus carry one barrel, others have three or even five, a precarious load in any but the calmest conditions.

 We passed over a sandbar littered with tree roots and trunks at the mouth of the river, then motored upstream. Further upstream, it became clearer and shallower. The banks are covered with lush greenery, and we could see patches of sugar cane, mango trees and coconut groves along the river, blending in with the surrounding jungle. The  cool  clear river winds over a pebbly bottom, and we were passed by ulus coming down stream, some with motors but most being paddled. We gave a tow to a man in a dugout, with two little kids on board, making his day much easier and the childrens' eyes sparkle. We came to a shallow at a bend in the river where a large sandbar has formed. Children splashed and mothers sat in the water washing clothes and chatting. Just upstream from this, the men were  dipping water into the barrels in their canoes. We stopped here and filled our jugs, then enjoyed a dip in the cool fresh-water before heading back downstream. We used this good, clear water for domestic and bathing purposes. The author of the Panama Cruising Guide, Eric Bauhaus, claims to drink this water regularly without consequence, but doesn't recommend it.

Nargana to Green Island to Cayos Limon. 

 As soon as the bank opened at 830, we went in to see if we could get cash from our credit cards. We could not. I bought a bit of celery (for 35 cents), and later we motored to nearby Green Island for a swim.  The water off Nargana was looking quite soupy, unclean, with floating trash. The reef at Green Island looked interesting due to colorful sponges I saw while doing laps, but we moved on. We set sails, the main and Code Zero asymmetric cruising spinnaker, with 10 kt wind from the east, for Cayos Limon and our eventual stop at nearby Porvenir for clearing Customs and Immigration. We had a nice afternoon and pleasant chat in the shade of the sail, up on the trampoline. We arrived Cayos Limon late afternoon and were immediately approached by the famous “Mola Lisa”, who is a charming and well-known transvestite around here (no problem with that in Kuna culture), and a master mola maker. I bought a really lovely traditional piece for $30.

Mola Lisa and me.

The flag of semi-autonomous Kuna Yala.

Cayos Limon to Porvenir  

(Nov 22). We motored on this squally, rolly day to Cayos Limon, anchored in among the mangroves and had a bad night with the no-see-ums. In the morning we motored across a short channel to anchor and clear into Portvenir. The Vikings were right; for a boat greater than 9.9 m in length , the cruising permit for one year cost $193 ( for up to 9.9 m, it cost $95). For each soul aboard an entry fee of $100 for Panama plus $20 for Kuna Yala is charged, and is good for six months. This fee is not charged to passengers arriving by air or land. After our fleecing, we lingered at the adjoining hotel and browsed the molas of appealing but less traditional design, and also items such as eyeglass cases, little purses and oven mits made from molas.

Beautiful molas.

It rained. We were rigged to catch water for the tanks, but the spout came out of the fill hole and the water from the big, beautiful downpour washed away over the decks. It was a hot evening, and we had a quick visit from the Vikings, who came in late to the anchorage. They were departing for Colon and a trip home to Norway for Christmas.

Cayos Limon

Porvenir to Cayos Limon. 

The wind had shifted and in the early morning most of the boats had left for better places. We headed for Cayos Limon again, arriving around 10 am. I had a great snorkel, seeing the best fish so far; lionfish, pink goatfish, lots of grunts. After this, I joined my shipmates over on the island. The Kuna ladies had chakiras , traditional beaded, ankle bracelets which are laced on, for sale. I decided to buy two, unfortunately not matched.

 Kuna friend Norbertina lacing on my chakira for me.

I love them! Walked around the island, got nice photos of Kuna kids, particularly a teenaged girl in the hammock.

 I returned to the boat, and the three of us snorkeled the reef and onto a tiny sandy islet. In the early afternoon we motored to another Limon Cay, and put up the shade tarps since it was intensely hot. We laid around for the rest of the day. We went ashore around dusk, it looked like a bonfire was burning. I talked to "Kuna Phil" from California, who's been here since 1997 and operates a hotel on the Pacific side of Panama.He was filleting a big red snapper. It was not a bonfire, he told me, but a trash fire started by a local guy from time to time, and the source of local controversy.

Cayos Limon to Cayos Hollandes. 

The next morning, my shipmates also met Phil and rather than trying too hard to explain how to negotiate the reef, he was good enough to get in his dinghy and guide us through the reefs into open water. We made for the Hollandes Cayos; these cays are farther out, uninhabited,  and show signs of the coconut palm yellowing disease. These islands are of limestone with mangrove, as well as the usual sandy keys; some are steep to.

 We passed a French cat at anchor on a lovely turquoise sandbar, a great spot. We med-moored to an islet, quite a lovely situation but no-see-ums made themselves known. We lolled in the water, away from the biting insects..

 After this we found the main anchorage and anchored among a friendly group of mainly Norte Americanos, including a Whitby ketch.

 I waved the Whitby folks over and had a brief chat. We were down to dry stores of vegetarian beans and rice (due to bad planning and careless provisioning). Dick did the cooking tonight since I was pretty much out of menu ideas with the ingredients at hand.

 Patron, a Whitby 42 , out of Vancouver. Been at sea since 1997. Lovely people.

Cayos Hollandes to Chichimes. 

Nov. 25. It was a lay day,  windy and squally. Nice to be tucked in well behind the reef, not much motion on the boat.  I went ashore for a walk and bought another chakira from an old lady named Puna, who spoke only Kuna language.

Puna and her grandchild.

Thanksgiving.  

 Have I mentioned that all on board (except me) are vegetarians? I learned this during provisioning!! No problem at all with vegetarian food, but we ran out of fresh veggies a long while back. We had chickpeas for Thanksgiving. I am thankful for protein!

Chichime to Isla Grande en route to Portobelo.

The wind was good and we sailed for 12 hours from Chichime (goodbye, San Blas Islands) and headed west toward Portobelo.  It was really a long sail, so as the afternoon wore on, we made for Isla Grande.

Our course from Chichime to Isla Grande

There were big, strong rolling swells, and submerged rocks threatened our progress as the dusk approached.  We surfed the big cat down the channel and managed to drop anchor by moonlight, too near a reef but protected from the swells.  The next day we walked on Isla Grande, a resort area, with very nice homes and even a French restaurant, where I ate my second meal of meat in a month. (Mmm,  burger!).

Yoyo and Dick

 I walked up to the lighthouse and enjoyed the views and breeze.

 Then back to the boat for a short run to Portobello.  Within three hours of very good sailing, we had entered the harbor and dropped anchor near a $500 night boutique hotel. The great fortress of Portbelo which launched the shipments of gold and silver bound for Spain along the Spanish Main has fallen into ruin and is tumbled and overgrown. The rest of the town is typical colastal Caribbean. I have never seen so many skinny, scrawny, underfed European sailors!

 In Portobelo, I disembarked from Solitaria and took a cab along the green coast to Sabanitas, and from there rode the local bus, an ancient Bluebird with grinding gears and chock full of humanity, to Panama City. We would stop and start many times along the way for folks to jostle on and off, then speed along like a runaway train.

Riding the bus with Edwin at the wheel.

Miraculously, I was able to sit in the front seat, so I got fresh air from the open door. We arrived without incident, and I took another cab to my hotel, where I lavished myself with unlimited fresh running water and air conditioning.  And an order of crispy, fresh garden salad and juicy pork quesadillas!

This voyage covered about 370 nm, with 170 nm offshore.