Pacific 'to do' list

There was no shortage of things to do in order to get Orion ready for her first (ever) major ocean crossing. The main one my father encouraged us about was the need to have a suitable spinnaker pole set up for running before the wind. The trials and tribulations of that little task deserve their own post (soon to follow).

We are admittedly fairly anal management consultants and constant risk managers. As such we surround ourselves with excel spreadsheets detailing "to do" lists including completion tracking, priority and even accountability. Those project managers out there will know what we are talking about. Whilst this may seem a little….over the top, we like to think of it as a way to keep our bread and butter skills honed (we may be lying to ourselves).

Many of the items on the "to do" were running repairs. These included repairs to our bow anchor roller which got a little bent out of shape when I chastised it in the San Blas. I also had the thin plate stainless reinforced. The previous owner is probably reading this thinking, "I had the boat 12 or so years and never had that happen". Other Tartan owners probably think I am a bit of prick...

Our varnished companion way stairs have a tendency to become a little "slippery when wet" and as we did not have a sign that we could put up to avoid health and safety related lawsuits, we decided to add thick sticky backed grey grips to the stairs. Now Sally can clamber down them even when mildly inebriated. One of Sally's very important tasks was to download as many free ebooks (from Amazon) to the Kindle as possible. Most of these I notice are Mills and Boon equivalents and will probably never be sampled by myself unless I run out of even technical manuals to read.

Our substitute skipper, the good ole Monitor wind vane, needed to be in tip top condition. As such I replaced the flange bearing and strengthened the paddle to ensure it would laugh at even the heaviest of seas. After many months with a limited propane supply, I found a guy to fix the valve on our little 8lbs bottle and so now we carry 28lbs of propane. Should last us a wee while, even with Pillsburry Sally on board baking up a storm (she promised me fresh bread every second day - I am holding her to it - regardless of seasickness or other ailments).

We were not all that close to our next 100 engine hours, but as we may have a bit of motoring to do between Las Perlas and the Galapagos, I decided to do an oil change. It was more messy than I remember, but then again I also let the sump drain overnight to really empty it completely.
Fuel and water runs were also a lot of fun. Having a permanent distrust of any fuel source, I ever so slowly filter all my fuel through cheese cloth before it goes in the tank. I probably lose as much to evaporation as I put in the tank…but at least it is (relatively) particle free (does not help if there is water though…).

West Marine is a great company and many parts can be sourced from them quickly and easily. One thing I doubt they are industry leaders in, is cheek blocks. Our sub skipper (Monitor), was not very impressed with it and as such reduced it to a number of component parts when 24 hours away from the San Blas. Fortunately Dylan the uber skipper had a spare (but he only got around to replacing in Panama).

We tend to rely more and more on electronic charts. Not out of preference might I add, but rather convenience and cost. A good quality chart, copied, costs about $12. So we decided to only carry passage charts and ones for key areas. Where some volcanic islands are steep to, we tend not to rely on charts, but make sure we have decent guides. Which brings me on to the next topic. We also wish we had a iPad or equivalent (with a waterproof cover) to use in the cockpit when doing reef navigation. Electronic guides are a lot lighter than paper but we prefer having something in hand as we approach rather than a laptop down below! Bit late for Father Christmas to deliver us one...

We love our dinghy and try to look after her as best we can. It is after all our car! Ever since we removed the cover we can notice how sun damaged the pontoons are and as such decided to spoil her with a brand spanking new cover. After a mild heart attack at the cost of sunbrella material, we acquired some and had a mega cover made by a funny little fellow with a gold toothed smile named Foo Foo. She now looks as good as new (the dinghy that is!)

We bought a few parts from the US (as Panama does not stock 5616-0001-P Jabsco impellers apparently). Mildly annoying to be sure. These arrived earlier today (along with spinnaker repair tape and copper foil to aid my SSB transmissions).

Sally (and I on the odd occasion) have made multiple trips to many different shops to stock up on goods which are almost certain to be more expensive in the South Pacific. She will craft a post all about what to get where regarding culinary delights but needless to say, stocking up was one of the more time consuming and costly exercises of the 'to do' list.

With most of the chores done, we think we are ready to rock and roll. After 2 months in Panama, it is time to leave. We are looking forward to what may be one of the greatest challenges of our lives.

Take a look at what tasks we have completed here in Panama:
 

Rig spinnaker pole Repair cheek block Repair 150% genoa Add grips to companionway steps Repair raw water pumps Stock up on food and booze Get bow roller fixed and re-inforced Download books to Kindle Fill gas bottles Get the monitor rudder shaft repaired Rig inspection Get the monitor rudder shaft repaired Check connections for VHF Climb mast and put windex back on Repair gas bottle valve Count fuel filters and replace if needed Oil change Replace monitor flange Clean out fuel tank On and Off the hull Clean stainless

 

The Plan

Friends and family, 2013 will see us cross the Pacific Ocean and we would love for you to join us en route. To get an idea of where we will be going and when, see our proposed itinerary below. If you are interested in coming out, just check dates with us prior to booking so that we can confirm we will definitely be in that country. Our passage is entirely dependent on Mother Nature and as such, dates may change depending on when we get a good weather window.

February /March – Panama City and Galapagos Islands

• The crossing from Panama to Galapagos Islands will include stopping at the Las Perlas Islands (day sail from mainland Panama) and a 1 week sail from Las Perlas to Galapagos Islands.
• In the Galapagos Islands we'll take day trips and make the most of the world class scuba diving to swim with whale sharks, seals and iguana's.
• Islands we want to visit on the boat include: Santa Cruz, San Cristobal and Isla Isabela with a trip to Floreana Island (Post office bay) to see if Nyati is still written there.

April /May – Marquesas Islands (part of French Polynesia)

• Galapagos Islands to Marquesas is a 30 day sail (ish) non stop. Crossing time really depends on the weather and whether we get stuck in the doldrums.
• All those pictures you see of the South Pacific are mostly taken here (green mountains) or Bora Bora (huts on stilts on the sea).
• We want to go to Fatu Hiva first then on to Hiva Oa and then Nuku Hiva.

June /July – Tuamotu Archipelago

• Getting more remote as we head further West, this place is probably too difficult for anyone we know to fly to and where we want to spend a lot of time.
• Renowned for its black pearls and beautiful atolls!
• The list of islands is staggering, needless to say we want to visit them all but will end up visiting but a few. We need to read the guide books...

July /August – Society Islands

• The Society Islands include Tahiti, Bora Bora and Moorea. Probably the most well known of the South Pacific Islands.
• Most expensive place, populated and touristy – albeit beautiful, I doubt we will stay too long in the major islands but might spend some time in the outer islands like Moorea, Raiatea and so forth.

August /September– Cook Islands

• Need to read the guide books some more to decide what we will be doing here but the major stops include Rarotonga and hopefully Palmerston Atoll as it's very remote.

September /October – Tonga

• En route to Tonga is Niue – one of the world's smallest self-governing states with water visibility of over 30m!
• Tonga is a developing country and the only kingdom in the Southern Hemisphere.
• We'll work our way down the chain of Vava'u Islands to the Ha'apai Group and then on to Fiji.
• If (and its a big IF) there is time we would like to visit Samoa before we go to Fiji. But this will be very time and weather dependent.

October /November– Fiji

• Excited to go here as we plan to venue hunt for our wedding!
• Aim is to spend a good month cruising this archipelago.

November /December – New Zealand

• Don't quote us on this but our plan at the moment is to end up in New Zealand. As always on Orion, we caveat this as our plans are always changing!

Anyone reading this with suggestions of where to go, please get in touch!!

Panama Canal Transit

My clammy hands gripped the helm. Slowly the imposing steel doors started to close behind me. The gates of Mordor locking me into a 1000ft chamber with 40ft high walls and an enormous red beast before me. Beneath me rumbled 40 horses chomping at the bit in eager anticipation.

Gates of Mordor

Worried looking captain

Just moments before we had been rushing head first into the lock at 4 knots – which felt like 60 miles per hour - heading straight for the business end of a large firetruck red freighter. I had glanced at the advisor sitting next to me and he did not seem to be sharing my anxiety or concern. We were getting awfully close to the ship now....still no word to send up the mooring lines that would save our little plastic boat from collision with 20mm plate steel.

“Shouldn't we...” - I was cut off before I could finish by a sharp whistle from our intrepid advisor.

The 125ft mooring lines started to ascend the walls of the lock like vines from a cheesy 70's horror movie. Once all lines had been made fast on the large yellow bollards we snubbed to a jarring halt. All 8+ tons of momentum taken up on our tiny aft cleats. <Grimace>

“Hundreds of yachts go through the canal every year and survive...” - The little voice of reason chanted enigmatically in my ear. There we were, all trussed up like a bread stealing French peasant sentenced to be drawn and quartered.

I started to relax. We were in, right? Made it to the first lock unscathed. We were tied into position. One down and 2 to go...Then the snot green sea below us began to churn a muddy brown. So this is what it must feel like to be a crouton in my stomach after ingesting a large nosh of indian food, warm beer and ecoli.

The waters boiled beneath us and we were battered to and fro as the locks filled from pipes underneath us. “My poor cleats...”

Crew taking in an aft line

“What if...a line snapped or a cleat broke or a line handler received an important Facebook message and dropped the line they were managing...” - I hate my little pessimistic 'What-If' devil that sat on my other shoulder. All the inevitable ends started whirling through my mind. Impaled on the red beasts propellor. Embracingly close to the cold steel lock doors. Examining slimy algae in detail on the concrete lock walls.

The box was still flooding. Waters seemed to bounce from one side of the lock to the other. Testing our line defences like the raptors in Jurassic Park (1, not 2 – 2 was a complete let down and is $5 and 1.5 hours of my life that I will never see again)

After a few minutes I realised that panic had been averted purely by my incredible super powers as skipper and that all would be well. Line handlers drew the lines in, keeping the right amount of tension as we rose up from the depths to join humanity once more. The whole process was a mere 20 minutes. I stood in the cockpit and shook my fist at the mildly overweight gringo lock master and bellowed - “Is that all you got!”

The red beast AKA “Youn Ki Kip Kai – Panama” seemed to take offence at this and decided to spin its propellor a few times for good measure. The resulting prop wash saw our water speed gauge peaking at 4.5 knots...while we were stationary!

Lock doors open and waters now calm, the big red made her way lazily out of the lock and into the second. It was easy for her, as she was pulled through with the aid of powerful locomotives or “mules” - so named as once upon a time a team of Shrek's best friend used to be tied to ships and haul them through the locks.

Once beastie had left us in peace, our slightly bored looking line thrower's on the lock walls above us casually threw our lines in the water. I figured that this was not some sort of mass action strike or offence at my fist waving, but part of the process as the throw lines appeared to be still attached. Our hand liner's were obviously not about to yank us through the lock like their motorised colleagues and so I requested the aid of the 40 - chomping at the bit – horses to do it for us.

We chugged our way into the next lock looking like seasoned veterans. The lines went up much the same timing as previous, gates closed, water battered us around and Orion held her own like Rosa Parks on a bus to a skinhead convention.

Gates opened and it was a “rinse and repeat” of the previous two locks. The final of the Gatun locks. The doors opened on to the Gatun Lake and the strangely named Panamanian registered vessel returned her lines to the mules and with out so much as a toot of the horn chugged her way onto the lake. I thought we had shared a bit of a moment together through the 3 lock ordeal, however she apparently had a schedule to keep.

The hand liners tossed our lines into the water, seemingly glad to be rid of another small vessel in their expensive locks. We puttered our way onto the muddy brown drinking waters of the Gatun Lake and finally my sphincter unclenched. Congratulations and high fives were cast around with playful abandon (not due to my unclenched sphincter, might I add). Farewell Atlantic Ocean.

We motored to a set of mooring buoys and tied up for the night. The day was done. The supposed hardest part over.

Vicki (Dolphin of Leith) helping tie us to the buoy!

The next morning saw me wake up at 5:30 like a kid at christmas. “Hands off cocks and grab your socks!” - There was lots to do before the imminent arrival of the new advisor. I spent the first 20 minutes pottering around getting in Sally's way and muttering to myself. Two activities at which I excel!

With engine checks done, crew roused and kettle on, we were ready to begin the day.

The advisor arrived shortly after 6am and I impressed him with facts that Orion cruises gently at 5 knots. With that we tossed off the mooring lines and chugged towards the channel and the oncoming northbound ships.

It was a fairly uneventful motor. We cracked out the jib to squeeze an extra few miles in before our decent to the Pacific. The advisor we had enjoyed a good few practical jokes at my expense threatening to delay us in Gamboa as one of our mooring lines was a wee bit shorter than the regulatory 125ft. The crew and advisor thought this very amusing, however the skipper wrote all their names on his “People to kill later” list.

Motoring across Gatun Lake

Making breakfast whilst underway

There were a few other boats going through the canal at the same time as us. All had larger boats, engines and / or ego's than I and so overtook us fairly early in the transit process. This was all part of my incredibly sneaky and cunning plan to arrive last. With 3 vessels ahead, chances were that they would raft up together leaving us all alone to go through centre chamber (the safest option where I am master of my own destiny – and not Popeye on the centre vessel in the raft of yachts).

We arrived at the Pedro Miguel locks to find this to be the case. Speedy Gonzales 1,2 and 3 had won the prize to raft up and Cap'n So Poke Orion was to go through centre chamber. Great success!

I charged up the cattle prod in order to keep the Orion crew frosty and we entered the first lock.

Everything and everyone worked as they should. We were behind the raft of 3 vessels and once again mooring lines went up and onto bollards at the last second. I am certain that this is done to test if the skipper can hold his bladder under pressure (fortunately our cockpit has drains right below the helm).

Down locking is lovely and calm. As long as the line handlers are feeding out the line nice and steady, all is well. I even vacated the helm and wandered the deck to pat a few line handlers on the head and provide a few patronising words of encouragement that any good leader would under such circumstances.

With lock empty, the gates opened and the raft bumbled forward. With a blast of the horn the mooring lines were tossed into the water but no longer attached to the throw lines. At first I thought this to be some sort of monumental cock-up, only to learn that the Panama Canal Authority did not pay the throw line guys enough to have them walk the 1.1 miles of the Miraflores lake to the next set of locks.

We puttered over to the Miraflores locks and once again survived monkey fists hurled at the boat by the excitable line thrower's ashore. The crew was getting quite good at ducking and diving and I considered momentarily signing them up as a dodgeball team (with me as coach due to my outstanding leadership skills).

Monkey's fist

The excitement was almost tangible. We were nearing the end. The Pacific was but a few hundred feet away. We downed the first lock like a drunk having his first beer of the day and moved to the last lock of the mighty Panama Canal.

The doors swung to as if St Peter himself was there to open them. The water behind us was as eager to meet the Pacific as we were and shunted us along at almost 4 knots. We were spat out of the final lock of the Panama Canal and into the Pacific Ocean. This was the first time Orion had been in the Pacific and she seemed to love it.

The wonderful crew!

We made it!

I never imagined that we would get here. This is where the fun really begins!

Clearing into Panama

Dolphin completing paperwork

Wow what a load of talk there was about Panamanian authorities and their ability to change the entrance fees depending on their mood of the day. Some cruisers had paid $400+ for the pleasure of clearing into Panama and then spoke to a fellow yachtie on the same sized boat with the same crew number that had gone to the same office, spoke to the same official and been charged $300. Even $300 for us was an astronomical amount of money so with time on our side we decided to scope out the officials ourselves, deal with the bureaucracy alongside two other boats and you know what, it paid off! How much did we pay to clear into Panama? Zilch!

We chose to sail to Portobelo where there is only an immigration office and they charge you nothing for a stamp in the passport. From Portobelo we caught the bus to Colon ($2.40), an hour and a half bus ride away. First stop, the port authority office which is opposite the Citibank. Yes we had to wait an hour for the port captain to arrive but when he did, more paperwork was completed and no money changed hands. We weren't asked to pay for a cruising permit either which are usually $193 a pop. For more information on where the offices are, you can find it all on Noonsite so I shan't go into detail on logistics. No cruising permit is required to transit the canal.

Finn and Petra lunching outside the Captain's office

 The most important thing we learnt from the experience was that you really don't need an agent. If you have a day to spare (or half day if your boat is already in Colon) then the bureaucracy is easily completed by yourself. An agent charges around $300-$500 (this includes Canal Transit paperwork) to take your papers to these offices and you always pay top dollar on the fees. We saved ourselves almost $700 ($300 agent fee, $193 cruising fee, $100 p/p visa fee).

Molas of Kuna Yala

Dylan's Mom told us we must stock up on molas. Having admired the ones that she already owns we acknowledged the suggestion and looked forward to the situation arising. At the time I had never heard of molas so gave it a google to learn more. 'Mola' is Kuna's native language for 'shirt' or 'clothing', it's traditional dress and typically women wear a front and back mola panel sewn onto a blouse. To complete the outfit they team this with a sarong, headscarf, beads all the way up their arms and legs (they are particularly proud of their skinny pins) and a gold nose ring through both nostrils. A Kuna lady in her brightly coloured dress, all of 5ft nothing, acts as a fantastic emblem for the matriarchal society they still exists today.

Back in the day, the Kuna women used to paint their bodies with geometric designs of which they had detailed meaning. A local master mola maker (person that is very good at their art) told us that concentric circles for example, are a traditional design and symbolise the nose ring that is worn through the nose of older women. Only with missionary contact did the community start to transfer their body painting to fabric and then the reverse-applique work that we see today. Although animals have almost replaced the geometric patterns and we even saw teletubbies in one design! With the arrival of cruise ships and more yachties in the area, the designs cater to their main customers now and Kuna's often ask for magazines to aid inspiration resulting in political and cross-cultural themes. These women seriously kick butt, so much so the Kuna rebellion that led to their land (Kuna Yala) being recognised as a semi-autonomous territory from Panama was started when the government tried to stop Kuna ladies from wearing their traditional dress! These ladies mean business; the designing, the creating, the bartering, the receiving of money is all carried out by the ladies. The men solely act as a taxi driver whizzing them from one boat to another.

Venancio and I holding up the molas I bought

The making of molas is a craft passed down from generation to generation and many master mola makers that you meet act as teachers to school kids just getting started on the reverse-applique skill. But how do they make them? Venancio who I have mentioned earlier in the blog (by far the most talented of the mola makers in my opinion!) took out a mola in progress when he was on our boat and kindly demonstrated the amount of effort that goes into them. Between 2 – 7 layers of different coloured cloth are sewn together. Once the design is chosen, he sets about cutting away parts of each layer to form the shape of the design. The edges of each layer of cloth are then turned under and hand sewn closed in different coloured thread. His stitches are so so tiny and intricate and he can thread a needle in 2 seconds with his naked eye and no fancy threader to help! It really is most impressive and you can easily see how it takes him on average 3-6 months to complete one mola.

Having bought my fair share of molas now and learning as I go along, I consider myself pretty well informed on what makes a good quality mola:

• The more layers of cloth the more effort required in reverse-applique technique
• Check the accuracy of the stitching. It should all be equal with no knots visible. The best stitching is almost invisible!
• Cut out pieces of cloth should all be equal in width
• Check for wear as some of them have been sitting around in a plastic bin stinking of mould for years
• Check for old stitch marks in the corners, these molas have been taken off an old blouse and could be damaged (but then again, if they were proud enough to wear them, they are probably of better quality – albeit “second hand”)
• Check for detail, the more layers of cloth, the more cut out pieces, the more stitches, the more workmanship involved (i.e. time and skill)

And remember, it is OK to critique a mola maker's work. I often pointed out imperfections in the stitching or cloth and thus lead to a tool in the bartering process. If we just give them what they ask for without demanding quality then who knows how much they will cost and look like in 10 years time!

Of course like all things in life, it comes with a compromise. If you manage to get an excellent mola with tons of detail, it will be pricey. Although saying that, Venancio from the mola making island made fabulous molas of eye popping quality and I paid no more than $40 per item. An easy way to guess straight away which are the expensive molas is to look for the small cut out triangles. If you see them on a mola you have taken a fancy to, expect to start the bartering at $35/40. Unfortunately I was always drawn to this type! The makers often make the molas in pairs with a common theme through both of them as they are usually worn on a blouse covering front and back. However I often only wanted one of them and they are fine to separate the two if needed.

My favourite mola from Venancio

The most famous of the mola makers in Kuna Yana is probably the transvestite Lisa. She signs all of her work and manages to get to most anchorages in the area peddling her wares. Yes her work is good but I still think Venancio's stands out. You will usually find him in the Lemmons and he is always accompanied by his cousin as the taxi driver.

Lisa and I holding the molas I bought

Mola I bought from Lisa

Now with my stash of molas I am thinking of putting them to good use. A couple will be given away as presents, some framed and others made into pillows. Come to think of it...I may need to get more...

The San Blas Islands

Well the sail over was fairly entertaining. We left Santa Marta with 30 knots up our tail pipe and saw that peak to 42. The spinnaker sat forlornly on our salon sole with not a chance in hell of being brought above deck. The Colombian coast has some pretty good wind / wave action and now we see why it is regarded by some as the 5^th hairiest coastline in the world. We still marvel at our friends on Kadoona who beat into this (and all the rest) to get from Australia to the UK.

It took us less than 48 hours to reach the San Blas, with our first days run averaging 7.4 knots (177.6 miles in 24 hours) under headsail alone. We also set our new surfing record of 10.7 knots!

We had to slow Orion down as we approached the San Blas in the wee hours, flying one of Sally's skimpier pairs of undies as a sail was all we needed to maintain 4 knots.

Our first stop was Coco Bandero Cays. The only French yacht that was anchored there was kind enough to up anchor as we arrived and so we had the whole anchorage to ourselves (West Coco's).

It was fantastic to be anchored off a palm tree lined island in turquoise water all by ourselves. There was a Kuna couple living (care taking) the island. They seem to be the eternal gardeners tending to each island's grove of palms. Fallen fronds are burnt and no other nutrient sapping plants allowed to grow on the island (we are only talking a couple hundred square metres of island). Almost every anchorage will be frequented by dug out canoe's with women selling Molas (sometimes the whole family is in the canoe). Having promised Sally that she could buy a couple, we would invite the women on board and they present each mola individually for inspection. You place the ones that you like on your lap and hand the ones you don’t back to the seller. Once you go through the wares you then down select from the lap pile until you have your “favourite favourites”. Then the haggling comes in. First how much for each one...then you ask for a deal on 2 or 3 etc for “bulk buying”. It is an interesting process of pens and paper, as our Spanish is zilch and their English extends no further than “Hola”.

After a lazy week at anchor we set off to Eastern Coco Bandero's. Beautiful cluster of 4 islands, 2 of which were not inhabited. We did our first rubbish burn (as there are no facilities to dispose of garbage). We put out an announcement on the net (VHF on LOW power) and turned a boring activity of “taking out the trash” into a social occasion / meet and greet.

What is interesting is seeing what other people live on. Garbage can tell you a lot about people we noticed; as one yachtie quietly burnt his 5^th 1litre tetra pack of local wine...

Backpacker boats full of semi translucent gecko looking creatures popped into the anchorage from time to time. Generally these are old large vessels of 50+ feet that look like they have seen better days. Some of the larger ones even cart motor bikes between Colombia and Panama (and vice verse). They were friendly enough and they never partied till 4am like some yachts experienced.

Christmas in the Coco's was a treat. We met a young couple from Vancouver on a 36 ft Hans Christen called Cypraea. They joined us and Dolphin of Leith and Waka Irie for a big christmas party that started at 8am and ended at 5pm. Sally did the event justice in her earlier blog post.

From the Coco's we set off to Nargana. A Kuna village near mainland Panama. People had spotted the resident croc (a 2 metre salty) nearby. Bedding the anchor involved just backing down on it as the prospect of jumping into the water with a croc and the proximity of the creative Kuna sanitation left much to be desired.

Nargana was our first taste of “civilisation” for almost 3 weeks. We even had meat (albeit pork) at a local restaurant. The river Diablo is where the Kuna gather all their fresh water from. A trail of canoe's head up the river daily paddling against the current, with large drums onboard. These are then filled and scooted back to the village. While there it is a bit of a social scene with women doing the laundry, men filling the water containers and then everyone has a wash (the water collection occurs up stream of laundry and washing incase you were wondering).

We had still to see the elusive croc!

Off to Canbombia with Cypraea. Dolphin and Waka Irie followed a few days later. There was a lot of noise on the net about spots to go to for New Years eve bashes so we knew which to avoid. We rang in the new year in Canbombia (an earlier blog post summarises our experience) and spent a day or two recovering.

The christmas winds we had heard about kept a very steady trade wind blowing and the sea seemed to constantly be in a heavy state. As such snorkelling was better on the inner reefs as the outer reefs were a bit boisterous. On the plus side, we had heaps of power as solar and wind kept us topped up.

Off for a 4 mile sail to Achudup (Near Saladup) where we stayed for a few nights before splitting with our friends as we wanted to head to the Holandes Cays. I had spent christmas there 25 years earlier (when I was 5) and wanted to go back to see if I could remember any of it. I didn't.

The swimming pool is a beautiful anchorage. There is one boat that is almost permanently moored there. We were running out of time so did not spend much time exploring the BBQ island, Bug Island, the Hottub etc on the Eastern Holandes. We upped anchor to Central Holandes in search of a recommended mola maker (one can never have enough mola's apparently). Miriadiadup had one other yacht in residence, but the anchorage was large enough to accommodate a bunch of yachts without crowding. Most anchorages are deep 50+ feet. Something to get used to I guess...

Without a doubt, we wish we had spent more time in the Holandes Cays. We like solitude, good snorkelling and fishing. This place has it all. The water is a lot clearer too.

We were just going to pop into the East Lemmon Cays for a night, en route to Chichime via Dog Island to see the sunken wreck. The Lemmon's were very pleasant and it was here that we met in our opinion the best mola maker in the San Blas (Venancio). After seeing a good couple hundred mola's, we now believed that we had a bit of an eye for quality.

We snorkelled the wreck at Dog Island (an old freighter sitting in 10 feet) and then beat our way to Chichime. The current running between the two islands of the anchorage was amazing. It was a good few knots. Not really ideal swimming conditions. Waka Irie joined us there and we had a few drinks that night to catch up before our early morning start towards Portobello the following morning.

The banks off of Punta San Blas were apparently good fishing grounds, so out came the rod. We experienced parts of 30 feet deep and tried to avoid spots were swells were actually breaking on the banks. The caught 4 fish. A large Barracuda, 2 mackerel and a tuna. We had a number of strikes too and one I lost as I reeled it in as we were making about 5 knots through the water.

We had planned on stopping in at Green Turtle Marina en route but the swell and seas made it a bit too exciting for us to risk our house so that we could pay to moor for a night or two. As it was still light, we continued onwards Isla Linton.

We had to anchor slightly in the channel and as such Sally and I spent most of the night rolling violently into each other like some sort of couples wrestling match gone wrong. Needless to say we hightailed it out of there the next morning and headed to Portobello.

Portobello is a great anchorage in a sleepy little town with a lot of history. There are a few tall ships in the bay at the moment. Beautiful to see these old schooners still in use.

We finally cleared in and it did not cost us a cent. Unlike other places where it costs up to $100 per person! Panama, you got to love it!

A very Kuna New Year

I think back to most of the New Years eve events that I have attended over the course of my life. Most of them fairly underwhelming. Loud “doof doof” music, scantly clad peacocks trying desperately to attract the opposite sex and enough alcohol to fuel a car for a whole year.

This year we chose to be in relative isolation. We found a fairly nondescript little island in the San Blas with an equally nondescript anchorage, away from the madding crowd. The morning net was filled with organising “parties” at various places. Potlucks and bonfires arranged by what one can only be described as extroverted Americans with “water caravans” (we are but a few hundred miles from Texas...).

Alas, there were 3 other yachts in the bay when we arrived. A few of our friends on other yachts were soon to follow us. Fortunately there was plenty of space.

We set about looking for a free feed. Scouring the bottom for anything that moved that was edible (and of a decent size). There was not much. The term “conservation” has not hit the Kuna Yala (San Blas) yet.

Just in front of us is a couple of Kuna huts with a family of Kunas and about 20 children. We attributed the lack of seafood to the number of mouths that required feeding, but found out later that most of the kids were there on holiday from Panama City. Yes, in a small paradise, many Kuna chose to live in the city, but send their kids to the “old country” on holidays so as not to forget their roots.

The gentle smell of Kuna wood smoke drifted down our fore hatch and the sound of children playing could be heard well before my usual “lurch out of bed” time.

We are only 2 miles from mainland Panama, so all of the nearby islands seem to be inhabited with families. Even tiny islands with 2 lone palm trees has a hut. With this and common courtesy in mind, we headed ashore to ask for permission to make a fire on their island and call in the New Year. To sweeten the deal, we took a couple of canned goods (a whip around from each of our sailing friends).

“No problema” was the answer!

We zoomed around the anchorage and did the neighbourly thing of inviting all the other cruising boats to join us. Although there were french / spanish, we managed to gesticulate our intentions clearly enough.

The yachts in our little armada set about putting together a few dishes for a bit of a pot luck. Cruiser speak for “what ever one can be arsed making and sharing”. We did lobster linguini (with real lobster – but not of the size that I would send photos to my father to brag about though...he unfortunately still holds the Trompeter record for biggest lobbie – in fairness, he did pull it out 26 years ago when “over” and “fished” were never used in the same sentence).

Hauling our dinghy ashore, ladened with BBQ materials, pots of luck and and multiple young cruisers (30-40's), we were greeted by a squad of kids eager to help with hauling it ashore (and in the process got bowled over like tenpins).

To be polite we made the fire far enough away from the Kuna huts but it seemed that this was too great a draw card. Like moths the whole extended family descended on our little bonfire. The children played with Finn and Petra (3 and 2) and the older girls were fascinated by these cute little blonde haired, blue eyed creatures.

Now came the awkward part...there was not really enough food for everyone (or enough drink – both alcoholic or non).

We delayed the feast for as long as possible thinking that maybe the dinner gong would sound over in Kuna town and we could scoff without feeling rude. But no, this was all way too exciting. It probably did not help that I had been lighting sparklers on the bonfire and handing them out to the kids (who were loving them!).

We also had some battery powered light sticks and flashing balls etc (left over from Grenada Carnival a few months back). Every now and then I would whip one out and run down the beach with it. A gaggle of over excited Kuna kids would chase after me babbling Spanish (and / or Kuna – how would I know) until I selected a random recipient for the bonus prize.

When it became clear that Kuna's were probably not going to leave anytime soon, we reluctantly got stuck into our dishes. I had to do his Pied Piper routine to clear out the kids (they liked to crowd around the dinghy expectantly whenever some one went over to it to do something).

There was plenty of food left over and so we washed our plates in the sea and handed them over to the Kuna's to get stuck in.

Kuna culture is very matriarchal. One of the older woman (assumedly the chief coconut) sent a few kids to fetch bowls from the huts. She then scooped out all the remaining nosh into a large bowl and the bowl did the rounds among the Kuna.

Dessert was much the same process.

We played with the Kuna kids who were still wide awake (I blame the sugar content in Sally's Apple Pie) while waiting for the approaching new year. With so many children, I was soon exhausted, for as soon as you do one “cool” thing to a kid, the rest want a go as well. Trying to be a good sport I wanted to give them all a go swinging them in the air etc, but you eventually lose track of who is who. I am sure one little kid abused me 5 times for the “space rocket game”.

The matriarch and one of the men and loads of kids stayed with us and watched us. We went round the circle each singing a song or a poem trying to include the Kuna's too. They were having none of it but enjoyed watching us be silly.

We hailed in the new year with a toasting of glasses and a few expired flares sent into space. It was well past “cruisers midnight” of 9pm and some of us had been snorkelling for 5 hours in search of dinner and another 5 hours of “space rocket game” with the locals. Fuelled with enough rum to make even the dirtiest pirates proud we said our farewells to the indians and chugged back to the boats.

What a year 2012 has been. What promise 2013 entails...