Time Machine

Guna Yala (San Blas Islands, Panama).

Disclaimer: This is more of a journal than a blog, so it is a bit long. I may have too much time on my hands….

We’ve been in San Blas three days now. Blue, rainless, delightful days. These islands are surprisingly different from the long comma of Caribbean Islands we’ve explored from Puerto Rico, arching down to Grenada. San Blas Islands (called Guna Yala Territory by the locals) feel surprisingly remote, despite the dark outline of the mountains of Panama looming over them in the distance.

Populated by petite (surpassed in small stature only by the pygmies) very resourceful, yet impoverished people, the Guna Indians appear lightly touched by modern influences. They allow visitors but don’t permit any non-Guna to intermarry or buy land. A peaceful culture where crime is almost nonexistent, and no electricity (except some solar power) exists. They are welcoming and very friendly. They fiercely protect their traditional culture, holding on to their own, independent language and customs.

Interestingly, the society is a matrilineal one in which the women control the money and when they marry, the husband moves into his wife’s family compound. Women earn an income by hand-making molas - colorful, hand stitched layers of fabric in abstract or animal patterns. They paddle up to our boats in primitive, narrow, hand dug out wooden ulus, selling their molas and colorful beaded bracelets. Traditional, everyday garb is a mola sewn on the front and back of a woman’s colorful, fitted shirt, accompanied by a skirt. Beautiful strings of tiny, colorful glass beads wrap around and up her arms and legs. Quite striking. Quite hot in this climate!

Back to the islands… they are all small, an easy walk all the way around on the beach to return to the dinghy. Encircled by white, silky fine sand beaches, the island itself is chock full of as many coconut trees as can possibly grow in one small speck of land. Not surprisingly, coconuts are a staple of the economy. Don’t try to pluck one off the ground. The very nice people have a way of glaring disapprovingly! The fear is they’ll stop allowing boaters to visit the islands.

After the customs and immigration process in Porvenir, we dinghied over to what is one of the most populated islands of the chain, Wichubhuala. Although extremely impoverished, it is well maintained. Tiny bamboo walled huts with thatched roofs line the narrow dirt walkways. A shared bamboo wall separates each hut (can’t be much privacy there!). No debris is strewn along the rake-marked walkways. Absence of furnishings, except hammocks and the occasional small table, adorn each home. Sparse. The Guna’s have been studied because they live such long, healthy lives. Hmmm.

The island kids played volleyball over their small soccer goal (after all, they are a petite people), as well as basketball on a regulation size court with regulation baskets. With no Guna people taller than 5 feet, they must have excellent aim!

We purchased a number of molas and bracelets then meandered back to the dinghy.

Day two…. We motored (very little wind, directly into the wind) over to the Lemmon Cays. The water here is crystal clear, shimmering shades of aquamarine. Striking. The island has one small, open air bar and restaurant with very limited, but fresh, menu, and the rest of the island is crammed packed with coconut trees and a couple tents. A few covered tables dot the beach, as well as some covered seating in the “restaurant.” A few drinks and lunch, and we hit the sand volleyball “court” with the fun-loving, British crew of SV (Sailing Vessel) Distraction, a fellow yacht on the rally. The net had seen better days(sagged in the middle to maybe a 5 foot high string), which beefed up our confidence in our ball skills. Fun day of play. Snorkeled the other side of the island - surprisingly beautiful scene with a variety of corals and marine life - finned our way back to Jolie and off to the next island of Chichime for dinner and a calm night of blissful sleep.

Similar to the other SB Islands, Chichime has lovely local people - usually one family per island or uninhabited. Very sparsely populated. Continued brilliant sunshine on crystal waters, we snorkeled (San Blas doesn’t allow scuba diving. Rumor has it the Guna’s are superstitious about it. The bubbles scare the fish.), laid about, read, etc. Relaxed. Except Calvin and I began morning workouts(Brits call it “Gym club”) on the beach with the “puppies” from the yacht Distraction. “Puppies” is the term of endearment used by the father of one of them. There’s 5 “pups”in their mid to later 20s, along with Mike, the dad, and his significant other, Emma. Gracie about killed us with her HIIT workout, but I keep going back for more each morning. Something special about exercising on a deserted, Gilligan’s Island beach with a crew of lively, entertaining Brits!

On to Holandes Cays, to the “swimming pool,” a serene, very calm anchorage, protected by a long barrier reef. There are 21 islands as part of these Cays. Arrived in time to join about 40 other OWR owners/crew at Ibin’s on the beach for dinner. We all descended upon this adorable bamboo hut and Ibin managed to feed us all wonderful local mahi and lobster. Not sure how he carried it off in the tiny kitchen they worked out of, but our food magically appeared! Then on to the beach where the Aussies from SV JaZoFi had the intentions of projecting the Blues Brothers onto a makeshift screen. They are a fun lot and have quickly evolved into the social coordinators of the rally. Technical difficulties, so no movie. Still enjoyed catching up with everyone and their adventures. The story that stood out for me was from Rob, an Irishman who owns SV Tir Na Nog. As he was sailing off the Strait of Gibraltar, he was subjected to attacks by a pod of Orca whales! These whales took turns for an hour ramming his rudder, trying to rip it off! They’ve already sunk 4 sailboats and damaged many others. How frightening, but also reassuring that his boat was built well enough to sustain such an assault!

After a morning of snorkeling off BBQ island - nurse shark (long, graceful body contrasts with its white, dead-appearing eyes), eagle ray, snowflake eel, lobster and a variety of fish and corals - we set off to Coco Bandero Cays….

Again, picturesque, small, uninhabited islands. Does one become accustomed to such beauty? I hope not! Trying to keep fresh eyes on each scene we take in.

Nasty weather moving in so no snorkeling here. Fun evening of drinks and dinner on Distraction. The eleven of us all squeezed into their salon for a wonderful dinner. They’re so delightfully British. Cocktails were served upstairs in the cockpit, where we encircled the small center table. A candelabra was secured in the center, lazily dripping wax. I’ve never seen a real candelabra on a sailboat! Enchanting. Following dinner, we returned to the cockpit for a team game of LINKEE. A number of questions were decidedly British, so Rob and I were no help to our team. 🫤 Ellie is always our secret weapon for any trivia type contest, but unfortunately, she wasn’t on our team..Wonder if there’s an American version?

Awoke to a dreary, misty day. Windy, work out on the beach with the “puppies,” while Calvin zoomed on his foil, back and forth across the bay. Pulled the hook and motored to Green Cay. These overcast days on the water are 500 shades of gray and silver, with no other splashes of color. There’s a peacefulness in the scene. Not angry grays; serene, silvery grays in the water below and the heavens above.

The snorkel at Green Cay has been the most varied and beautiful in San Blas. Rob snorkeled it earlier today and was excited to take us back (he chose to swim with a couple of the other puppies during gym club). His life long passion for marine life runs deep and is contagious. I’ve learned as much from him as I have studying our Reef Fish and Reef Coral reference books. A shallow, 2-3 foot deep approach to an area we could slither through in the break of the waves over the barrier reef. Once through, the undersea world opened up like a tall, wide screen Cinemax theater. An expanse of ocean in front of us with a gradual drop off, littered with massive coral structures, flowing sea rods, splashes of colorful fish darting. And beyond, a clear, endless blue. Tall, layers of Mountainous Star corals overlap one on top of the other, like huge downcast branches on a Christmas tree, towering 30 feet high, growing next to huge lob corals dotted with small tube worms shaped like miniature pine trees, that retract quickly into their tube if you approach too closely. Large, healthy elk horn, brain, star, finger, mustard and lettuce corals abound throughout. The ever-present fire coral seems to flourish throughout the Caribbean. However, the variety here is a prettier version - more delicate, lace-like fingers extend toward the surface. We encountered the usual tropical fish - tangs, angelfish (even a queen angel, which hid before Calvin and Ellie swam over. I hate that!), a shy porcupine fish, wrasses galore, parrot fish and a very large crab tucked into a hollow in the coral. The circus of tireless life that lies below the water’s surface. Simply playing the role of observer is a gift.

Friday morning. I’m always the first one up. I treasure this time to pray, reflect, follow undisturbed thoughts. The mood of the ocean where we’re anchored right now is very calm - slowly shimmering, smooth surface. The low angle of the sun perfectly catches a school of tiny fish jumping in unison fleeing an unseen predator below - a choreographed dance where each flash of white jumps the same height, same distance at different moments. Whimsical.

Today, we make our way to one of the Carti islands, where the agent, Aaron, who checked us into San Blas has planned a tour of his home island, so we can experience local life. This island has very few coconut palms. Instead, it is packed with bamboo huts with thatched roofs. Again, well maintained, like the island near Porvenir, but extremely poor. And the shoreline is full of plastics/trash that have washed ashore. Women - ranging in age from teens to indeterminable, their faces so deeply etched and ancient from sun and life - line the narrow dirt paths through town quietly selling their home made Molas and jewelry. This island is closer to mainland Panama. There’s a distinctly more modern influence noted especially in their clothing, t-shirts, shorts, etc. On the other islands, women almost exclusively wore the traditional garb. Here, one little girl, around five years-old, runs around in a black shirt with white writing stating “Zero Fucks Club.” Wonder if her mom speaks any English?

Tour of the village included a visit to the largest building, the meeting place, where the town gathers every night. The chief lounges in a hammock in the center of the room and doesn’t say a word. We’re warned not to touch him or his hammock. He wordlessly sways back and forth as our tour guide explains the culture. Our tour concluded with a traditional dance where men played bamboo flutes and the women danced. At the end, they invited us to join in. A few brave souls tried to play flutes and dance along with them. Very fun. We raced back to our boat, pulled anchor and set off back to make it to Chichime before sunset.

Six of our boats are all anchored together, our last night in San Blas. We’ll all pull anchor tomorrow morning, Saturday, and sail to Portebelo, a harbor on the Panama coast. We aren’t really ready to leave this peaceful, pristine place - a snapshot of time from hundreds of years ago (except for the plastic bottles washing up on pristine shores). One of the complaints we’ve heard from previous OWR sailors is there’s never enough time at each destination. We’re beginning to understand. Hg