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Hello. My turn has come again
after long delay, so here goes. We are currently in the San Blas Islands of
Panama. We arrived from Curacao about a week ago, after spending maybe three
weeks there. We didn't do much in Curacao so there isn't that much to write
about from there. Most of the time we just stayed on the boat, except for water
runs. Normally we don't get water from shore because it is a hassle, and because
we can use the watermaker on the boat instead. Watermaker water normally tastes
better too. The water in that harbor wasn't very clean though, so we decided we
had to carry it. We can only carry 12 gallons at a time because we only have two
jerry jugs, so to keep up with our rather high water consumption we had to do
several runs a day. The dinghy ride was rather wet and the wait for the tanks to
fill was hot, so those got old very quickly. Doing water runs is the sort of
thing that makes me look forward to getting a house with a surplus of water. In
Curacao we also provisioned because the San Blas do not have many supplies.
On our way here from Curacao the
weather was very changeable. At the beginning we had strong wind from the stern,
allowing us to go consistently over 7mph, which, believe it or not, is fast for
us. When we go fast off of the wind though, I am always a bit nervous. The waves
following us are always threatening to break on us and pour water down into the
cabin or at least soak the people in the cockpit. Aside from a bit of spray
though, they stayed in the sea. In the second half of the passage the wind died
and there were lots of squalls with lightening and rain, most of which we
missed. We had to motor motor motor though, sucking down our fuel. On that
passage we had at least three tiny sparrow-like birds land on our boat, even
when we were a hundred miles from shore. The birds all seemed to have very bad
taste in picking perches. They kept trying to land on the sail, or on swinging
ropes. The first one was entirely exhausted when it reached us. It tried to land
on a vertical piece of plastic on our dodger, slid off, and just sat by the
rail. Dad called it Rover because he had spent the last two days talking about
getting a dog when we return. It was a very sweet little bird, so tiny to be out
there on its own. Rover was so tired that he even let Dad pick him up to move
him away from the water, but the next morning had perked up enough to fly
around. Rover died that second morning though, probably because we couldn't get
him to eat or drink anything. It was our first non-insect death aboard, so that
was a little sad. Poor Rover. The rest of the birds just stopped for a few hours
before heading on, and none of them were as exhausted.
After a lot of motoring we
arrived here last Sunday. Most cruisers that we have talked to have really like
the San Blas, because of the unique culture and the many beautiful anchorages,
although there are some mixed reports. So far we are enjoying it here, and now
the current plan is to spend six weeks total in the island group. That may sound
like a long time, but when we say that, or especially our original plan of four
weeks, to most cruisers, they act as if we are really rushing and won't have
nearly enough time. Cruisers just like to take it slow I guess. The anchorage is
wonderfully peaceful and calm, although often the breeze dies altogether and the
boat gets very hot. When we first arrived here and turned off the engine, the
silence was deafening, especially after three days of lots of engine time. Our
ears all began to buzz. On shore is a village of 300 people, a little ways away,
and immediately ashore are lots and lots of coconut palms, covering the shore of
the bay. Coconuts are a major crop here, and palm trees cover all of the flat
areas of this small island with really lush growth. It really is a beautiful,
postcard of paradise type spot. There are no other sailboats here.
On shore we need our Spanish
again. Here though, Spanish is their second language too, so although many of
them are fluent and we are not close, they still speak a little slower than
average, and we are managing to communicate. The first language here is Kuna. It
is completely different from the Latin languages, so we just count on someone on
shore speaking Spanish, and here at least, they do. One guy on shore has made
himself our personal guide and meets us whenever we go to shore. He even speaks
a bit of English, so using both languages we manage to communicate very well. He
seems much more comfortable having us struggle with Spanish than struggling with
English himself, so that is what we do. I am finding that I can understand
enough to figure out the gist of things, but whenever I try to speak the words
all vanish. On shore everyone lives in thatch huts and things are pretty
primitive, with outhouses over the sea. They have a lot of hammocks though,
which double as beds and chairs. Every house we go by has several people sitting
swinging in hammocks, and not just the kids either. Mom has a digital camera,
and she offered to take photos of two families and then print them out for them.
In both cases everyone dressed up in their finest and they arranged themselves
before the camera, horribly self-concious and absolutely deadpan. Most of the
time, the people who weren 't having their photo taken stood around to laugh,
which probably didn't help. Mom got some good ones though and printed them out.
The reactions were very good. Everyone gathered around to stare at the pictures,
pointing and talking excitedly. It was great because these people had either no
photos or ones without good resolution, so they were very excited over ours. We
have given people stuff like old clothes too, which are very appreciated. The
problem is that they start to want too much, saying, "You gave this to
so-and-so, what about me?" That doesn't feel so good because they start to look
on us as a bottomless source of money, just wanting more and more. I suppose
that compared to them we are really. Life on this island seems to be strictly at
subsistence level. Possessions are very few. Their only electricity comes from
one solar panel, which is used to power two lights in the communal gathering
building, and the houses have dirt floors. It makes us feel like we have far too
many unnecessary possessions.
OK, I had better stop before this
gets too long. Please write to us. Bronwen
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