Portobelo, Panamá

We arrived in Portobelo just in time for the Fiesta de Congo y Diablos. Unfortunately, Ben had to catch a bus to Panama City before the festivities really got started. Ask us about the crazy frenchman.

Canal photos are coming, internet is sparse.

We made it to Colon in the Caribbean Sea. We got cancelled the first day and we were unable to make our Gatun lock time the next day (not our fault, naturally)… but basically, no major collisions, dismastings, or unintentional persons overboard and that’s what I call a successful canal crossing.

Details will follow once I sort through the many gigs of photos and video bits and pick out the winners.

We got up before the crack of dawn even happened to get all the last minute stuff taken care of, motored up to Balboa and picked up our line handlers. Then they called us and told us that we weren’t going to go today. I guess the bank lady never turned in our paperwork when we filed and paid a week and a half ago. So we are supposed to go tomorrow. Same drill.

The Miraflores webcam doesn’t seem to be working but you can look for us on the Centenario webcam around 10-noon. Also the Gatun cam around 4-6pm.

We rounded Punta Mala (Point Bad) two days ago and it sucked utterly. Luckily the Perlas are every bit of a prize as they have been talked up to be so we’re pretty happy to be here and have almost forgotten how miserable we were not 48 hours ago. We have had the clearest water we have seen the entire trip anchored at Isla San Jose (we could see the bottom in 40 feet of water) and we are now anchored off Isla Bayoneta, working our way north until we make the final passage to Panama City.

On Isla Venado I stabbed myself in the foot during a shellfish collecting accident. Lots of blood. Blood on the rocks. Shellfish abandoned. We had to paddle about a mile back to the boat with my foot wrapped up tight in my t-shirt to control the flow. Sadly it wasn’t bad enough for the captain to issue vicodin and I had to make due with the usual rum ration (and lentil soup for dinner).

We’re now in Ensenada Muertos were I’ve been on coco detail. I’m usually too lazy and too afraid of heights to climb the trees so we mostly just collect ones that have fallen on the beach. Something usually gets to ’em before we do though. Not counting the ones obviously opened with a machete they have small holes torn in the top with all the milk and meat gone. I don’t think the hermit crabs are strong enough so it must be the monkeys. I’ve seen one with it’s hand in one of those little holes. Looking guilty. We don’t have a machete which makes it really hard for this monkey to get the goods. I’ve been using the emergency hack-a-hole-in-the-hull hatchet and the back end of a framing hammer. It’s a lot of work.

Oh yeah, too much coconut gives you the runs so take it easy.

It’s not all wounds and work, of course. Western Panama turns out to be what I had in mind when we left San Francisco. Gentle sailing among many gorgeous uninhabited islands. A tan and topless Cheyenne at the helm. Lush jungle, warm water and cool nights. Really uninhabited, I mean we haven’t seen anyone in 3 days.