We sailed away from Cartegena for the next leg of the journey, stopping in the Rosario Islands for a few days, swimming with a very playful dolphin that loved to be petted. He had been released from a dolphin show in the area and still hung around visiting all the snorkelers. Then on to the San Blas Islands.
Incredible beaches and beautiful turquoise water.
Wonderful island people, the Kuna Indians, who made sure that we had a little green parrot on the boat for our stay. He was given to us by one of the children and was quite fond of pasta! Knowing that it would be hard to enter other countries with the little fellow, he went back to the island kids before we left.
The Kuna’s are known for their intricate sewing and made the most incredible “Molas”. These were panels of hand sewn designs that they would incorporate into blouses and skirts. They would arrive by dugout canoe to our sailboat to offer us these beautiful pieces of fabric or we would see them everywhere in the villages.
One lovely older woman, after we told her how much we loved the designs of her blouse, told us to wait a minute, ran into her hut and returned waving the panel for us. She had used a sewing ripper to take it out of her shirt and bring it to us. Yes, we bought it and cherish it. A lovely memory of a very special people. Will be framed and hung on the wall soon.
From the San Blas it was a short sail on into the Colon marina where we would prepare for the Panama Canal. But, the night before we arrived, we anchored in a small bay named Portobelo. Some of you may know that the legend of the port states that it was originally named “Porto Bello” by none other than Christopher Columbus in 1502. Porto Bello means “Beautiful Port”. Pretty humbling to realize that we were anchored in the same place as Christopher Columbus. Really got us thinking about what could be on the bottom in the mud……
Scary stories of the Panama Canal transit were rampant among the cruisers. Boats being slammed into the sides of the canal because of prop wash from the huge ships in front of them, dock lines snapping from all the stress. People being robbed as they walked around shopping. In Colon, we were warned to always take a taxi. Of course, this was after we had walked into town and a shopkeeper gasped in horror when we told him we were on foot. When we walked down one quiet street with another couple, we became aware of four people falling in behind us. John who is 6’2″ turned around and glared at them, we walked quicker and arrived back at a busier street and they slipped away. A bit of a scare for us but it made us more watchful. The grocery stores were another eye opener. We arrived and started shopping, noticing that at the end of each aisle was a man in uniform carrying a rifle. When we asked them if they were worried about shoplifters he replied “No, this is protection for you from all the muggers and thieves”. All in all it was fine, as long as you were diligent and were back in the safety of the marina by dark, enjoying your sundowner cocktail. Oh, by the way, this is where we experienced our first box wine. At the store we purchased one liter boxes of quite drinkable red wine for……68 cents a liter box. We packed away 97 boxes in every nook and cranny of NeverMonday! The Pacific crossing should be quite pleasant! Bear in mind that this was the Colon side of the Canal. We had a ways to go before popping out on the other side of Panama.
A good friend of ours, Gary, flew in and joined us in Colon for the Canal transit and crossing over to the Galapagos and Marquesas Islands. It would prove to be a glorious, tranquil trip filled with stunning views, whales, seals, sharks and endless ocean.
The Panama Canal transit…fear, excitement, terror, amazement and jubilation….pretty much in that order, all in one very long day.
We were behind a huge freighter, so every time he moved ahead his gigantic props would churn up with enormous force and our dock lines would stretch to the breaking point. Then the dock handlers on land would throw off our lines we would have to motor up after him into the next lock and the still churning prop wash to get secured in behind the behemoth without getting slammed into the cement walls of the Canal. John worked the lines with the dock men, I steered and maneuvered Never Monday and somehow we came out of that first set of locks into Lake Gatun in one piece. We would spend the night anchored in Lake Gatun and attack the last set of locks on the Panama side in the morning. John swam even though we were warned to watch for crocodiles and caimans. I sat on the boat with a large glass of wine watching for any sign of crocs and for my man to return! He didn’t stay in the water long.
The next morning we motored our way through the rest of the lake and on into the channel for our last locks. It was easier and quicker this time as it was only sailboats without the gigantic freighters. The last lock opened to a distant view of the Bridge of the Americas linking North America to South America. A major intake of breath as we realized that after crossing under that bridge there was nothing left but the Pacific Ocean. We anchored overnight at the Balboa Yacht Club near Panama City, collected our wits and planned for the next morning. We didn’t get a chance to explore Panama City because we were too excited and anxious to head out into the Pacific.
Panama City and one of their colorful buses.
Bridge of the Americas
It is absolutely impossible to describe the gut wrenching feeling of heading out from Panama City with nothing but Pacific Ocean in sight. It was one of those ‘you had to be there’ moments…next stop the Galapagos.