09-21.943N
078-15.509W
Anchored
South of Aridup
The last time we had a decent snorkle was, well, months and months ago,
but Aridup served up a good one on arrival, just 50 yards off our bow. New
friends Ken and Beth invited us for drinks on board their Island Packet 38.
They are from Houston, and will store their boat at Shelter Bay, near
ours.
The last few days have been quiet. Uchutupu was almost a non event.
We tried to visit the Sayla, but he was busy, which cost him about $10
in fees. A big surprise was that Idelfonso Restrepo came out because
he recognized us. We first met him with his brother in November at Chichime.
At that time, he guided us to his island, Isla Maquina, and introduced
us to his family.
We left early, and spent a day at Isla Mono, lovely and quiet, except for
afternoon rain. The 9 mile trip here was uneventful.
09-07.876N
077-55.757W
Anchored, west of Isla Ustupu
GPS Odometer 11,249
Friday, May 25
Luis said he could guide us to the small rivers, west of Ustupu, but his
service was limited to identifying the mouths of these small but fascinating
creeks. On entering one, a parade of cayucos passed, each loaded with
bananas or coconuts or fire wood. Most of these people had started
to work at 5 a.m., and were on there way home. Therefore, in this trip,
we saw the important lines of commerce of this Kuna village, based on trading
coconuts for modern goods, and bringing home basics for sustenance. The
trip was fun for the presence of John and Katy on Allergy, and Byron and
Denise on South of Reality. Luis seemed not to know the details of
the creeks, or relative distances, but his big smile was good enough for
us. We have spent several days with these friends, enjoying their company,
and sadly saying a probable-temporary good bye as they sailed out today for
a snorkeling location, Aridup, about 24 miles up the way. Instead,
we are going 7 miles to the next Kuna village, Achutupu. Bryron and
Denise must be in Bocas by mid July; from there they head home for several
months. Home is Akron, Atlanta, and The Florida Keys. John, a
Canadian, has no specific plan; Katy is thinking about flying back to Venezuela
from Panama. She has not acclimated yet to the sailing life.
Luis introduced us to the government people who asked $8 to visit the village,
$5 for permission to travel up the creeks. We met the village priest,
talked to countless children, found some pasta in a store, acquired eggs
as well, and walked the village, which is clean, orderly and friendly. While
important, the chief, or Sayla, seemed less powerful here than on Pino because
he did not collect fees.
The friends mentioned above joined us for cocktails on Pachamama last night.
John brought four new books to read, and we gave him four.
Chichi is doing exercises (10 a.m.), which she does every day, almost two
hours. What a woman! When done, we will leave.
09-00.022N
077-45.678W
Anchored
west of Isla Pino
Camarca de Kuna Yala
Panama
Monday, May 21
DID YOU KNOW that a long term, intimate relationship between a bag of
laundry soap and a bag of flower creates an aroma of soap in the flower,
and that the aroma continues in the bread?
Anyway, after an overnight, we arrived here Sunday, slept in that day,
and did little today, except to make bread, a failed experiment. We
hope to find new flower somewhere.
Oracio Martinez stopped by to collect $8 for the island town. (Most
Kuna towns have an anchoring or visitation tax.) We plan to visit the town
tomorrow.
09-22.726N
076-10.565W
Anchored, east side, Isla Fuerte, Colombia
GPS Odometer: 11,098 nautical miles since September, 2001
Saturday, May 19
This has been a tough period for us. Acclimating to sea life, to
the heat and humidity, has left us with moderate to weak ambition, even
causing us to ask why we do this. Then, of course, the answer comes
out that we see new places and meet new friends. In few other forms
of travel are new f friends so accessible and compatible. You just
don't meet them at The Holiday Inn.
We anchored south of Isla Grande in Los Rosarios, then moved to Los Bernardos,
specifically the quaint island of Tintipan. Then we sailed here.
A few hours at a resort on Isla Grande was good, though we later
learned from new friends Byron and Denise (S-V South of Reality) that we
missed a fine bird sanctuary. That night, a squall hit us directly.
John turned on the motor, and successfully kept us in place, despite
a weak hold on the anchor. That took an hour or more, and left us
tense, unable to sleep.
Santa Magdalena (Casey and Jamie) stopped by to say hello. Since,
those two vessels have sailed with us, and they plan to do so again tonight
as we return to Panama, Isla Nino, just short of 100 miles west, about 16
hours.
Directly west of our anchorage in Tintipan is a village on Isla
Islote. Locals says it is the most populated island in the world. Could
be: everyone packed in, kids screaming.
The semi permanent Colombian low has moved to a point north of Colon,
a rare occurrence, opening the possibility of tropical formation that would
move north west from there, probably giving us significant rain and squalls
on the back side.
On arrival in Isla Fuerte, two men came out in a cayuco to guide us in.
They were pushy, and we initially did not like them. Their names
are Julio and Claydor. However, we met them again Thursday, and they
calmly guided us to El Bongo, a four hundred year old Ceiba tree. At
the end of our tour, they invited us to sit in front of Claydor's house.
Julio ran to get beer and refreshments, while we relaxed. We view
them differently, more positively, today. They want to help, and, of
course, they want to sell items and to earn propinas.
Last night, the six of us (with Santa Magdalena) gathered for drinks
on South of Reality. Very nice. S-V Piper pulled in while we
were there. They might be British. A half hour later, they came
over in the water, riding noodles, and each carrying a drink, with huge
smiles, even though they hit a rock before anchoring. Nothing like
a positive attitude.
10-24.686N
075-32.656W
Still Docked
Club de Pesca
Cartagena de Indias
Colombia
Saturday, May 5
Having just completed repairs of our auto pilot, we now can report
on mud, with a bit of nostalgia, as follows:
Mud, Mud, Glor i ous Mud
Nothing Quite Like It
For Cooling the Blood
So, Follow Me Follow Me
Down To The Hollow
And There We Will Wallow
In Glor i ous Mud
(From "At The Drop of a Hat," Michael Flanders and Donald Swan, written
in the 50s, along with their other profound tune: "I'm a Ganoo, I'm
a Ganoo, The nicest work of GaNature in The Zoo.")
And so we hopped into a van to swim in the glorious mud of The Volcano
Totumo. The view on arrival was like a scene from "Close Encounters
of The Third Kind," in which actor Richard Dreyfus envisions a mountain,
and goes on to build the mountain inside his home. His material appeared
to be mud. The stairway trip to the top was perhaps 200 feet, and
there we found the volcano opening, in the shape of a large swimming pool,
but, we were told, with a depth of 2,700 meters. Around 40 people
finally occupied that space, including several professionals who provided
massages to everyone, and who kept us secure and in line. Their method
of arranging order was to request that we lie on our backs, which, at first,
seemed precarious, but the buoyancy was so great that we ultimately felt
secure. Then, they pushed is to convenient positions like sliding
toys on ice. Getting out was a challenge, especially for those of
us in boxer type swim suits. Mine was heavy with mud; it wanted to
remain in the pool while I got out. Others got out with less trouble,
but then publicly squeezed mud from all the openings in their suits, providing
a rather disturbing imagery.
After walking down the volcano, we were escorted to a lake, where ladies
washed us, making certain that every crevice (yes, every crevice) was
free of mud. I now understand why spas provide various forms of
mud and paste therapy. Friends Donna and Cosmos ( s-v Koukla) joined this
fracas, giving us memories to share whenever we meet again.
Pachamama appears ready to go, pending conclusion of a minor medical
studies that are attempting to find the cause of stomach pain in Chichi.