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Travalog
Nine Greetings from the
Caribbean Sea. Five and a half months under way and the adventures continue.
After stocking up with fuel and provisions in Colon, Puerto Cristobal,
VIVA headed for our first stop at Portobelo, about 18 miles to the northeast.
Our first surprise, upon leaving the harbor at Colon, was all the wind
and wave action. For weeks, it had been so calm on the Pacific side,
that we almost forgot we were in the ocean! The next day it was off to Isla Linton, a nice little anchorage for a night, and then Isla Grande, sort of a local Panamanian weekend resort. We walked the little island, had a nice lunch, and then it was off to the San Blas Islands. These islands and shoreline are all part of Panama, but are governed by the Kuna Indians and is known as the Kuna Yala. There are supposedly over 300 islands in this 100-mile stretch of coastline. These consist of beautiful low lying islands groups with powder white sand beaches, covered with coconut palms, and surrounded by some very nasty reefs and incredibly clear water. One navigational slip in this area, and you are left high and dry on some reef, a bad way to end a cruise or vacation. The San Blas are
also home to the Kuna Indians, whose main source of income has traditionally
been from coconut farming and lobster diving. The women are very colorfully
attired, starting with a bright red and yellow head scarf, painted stripes
on their nose and a gold nose ring. Their skirts are a wrapped pareu,
and their legs and arms are covered with intricate beaded bracelets.
On their flowered blouses, they have beautifully embroidered "mola"
panels on the front and back. These panels eventually became quite the
collector's items, and have spawned quite a bedroom industry. When a
yacht arrives at a more populated island, they are approached by boatloads
of dugout canoes, manned by "mola mamas" in their brightly
colored dresses, ready to start their selling ritual. Our first stop
in the San Blas was Porvenir; and before we had the anchor set, we could
see the "armada" of dugout canoes heading our way. In just
minutes, the Kuna women surrounded us on all sides, each trying to outshout
the others. The product is really quite beautiful, and for the most
part could sell themselves. So, it becomes sort of a love/hate relationship
trying to negotiate with them. Pam and Sandy devised the system of allowing
one boatload or family aboard at a time to spread out their wares, make
their pitch, and then move on for the next group. Much less stressful!
We spent three weeks working our way east through the island chains. The offshore islands were more remote, pristine and less populated, while the islands close to the mainland were quite crowded, but offered the chance for some meager provisioning. Each island group was governed by its own chief, who sets the rules and collects a small anchoring fee. On many islands he prohibits the women from approaching visiting yachts to sell their molas (yeah!), and may also prohibit photography. We were invited by a few of the more friendly chiefs to visit their villages and meet their families. Their houses consist of cane-sided huts with palm frond roofs that are furnished with hammocks, which serves as both couch and bed. While the men speak a little Spanish, the women speak only their native Kuna language, making any negotiations a little difficult. After almost a month, stuffed with lobster and many "molas" later, we decided it was time to depart for Cartagena, Colombia, a 180-mile ocean passage. We left the San Blas bright and early, and for the first day had a rather easy sail, reaching along with a nice two knot current in our favor. The seas were rather sloppy, but I blamed that on the opposing current. Later that night, we had our first real mishap of the trip. At about 3:00 AM, motorsailing into about 20 kts of wind and very lumpy seas, I was awakened off watch by a loud crack! I arrived on deck to find that the boom had broken completely in two like a piece of dry spaghetti! The two pieces were held together by the internal reefing lines and the mainsail outhaul; but with each roll, the broken piece would whip from side to side like a 6 ft. baseball bat! In those seas, it took about 30 minutes to get the mainsail lowered (25 minutes to work up the courage, and 5 minutes for dousing)! Fortunately, we didn't tear the mainsail or cause any other damage; however, the remaining 80 miles to Cartagena was pretty sloppy. Fortunately, at dawn, the wind backed a little, so we were able to use the jib and motor, and at 3:30 PM we arrived at the entrance to Cartagena Harbor. We'll close for now and continue with the Cartagena experience and the trip to Aruba. All the best, Steve & Pam
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