Getting a new fridge in Panama

So, our fridge broke. In the middle of nowhere aka the Guna Yala, Panama; where we were for a month. It totally stank. Like, literally: the fridge was leaking ammonia so the whole boat would fill up with old-lady hair salon smell if anyone dared to open the fridge for whatever reason ala:

  • D: “I wonder if  . . .” (opens fridge, gets face-full of gas)
  • Me: “CLOSE IT!!! QUICK!!!” with a fire-monster face & voice
  • D: “yep, still broken”

*fun fact*: ammonia turns cheese left in the fridge blue!

Needless to say, we were super ready to get a new fridge, which we found out was no small feat. We’ve detailed our process below. In case you’re unlucky enough to find yourself in a similar predicament, now you’re at least lucky enough to have a head start. You’re totally welcome!

I’m sure we could have pursued other options (bigger fridge, not propane, etc) but this is what we did with our resources here in the middle of nowhere (and we exhausted tons of resources).

Here’s the skinny, y’all:

We *had* a 1991 Dometic gas/electric fridge until the cooling unit broke.

  • There were no parts (replacement cooling unit) in Panama.
  • There is one Dometic dealer in Panama City (Frios Venezuela) who could arrange to get the part for us from the States for $1,400.
  • Marine Warehouse & Defender do have Dometic fridges, but don’t have the propane option
  • We wanted the propane option as we like options, are rarely ever on shore power & in the rain forest, sometimes we don’t get the solar we need
  • Fridge found: We ended up getting a new Dometic 3-way (propane, 12V, 120V) fridge (same size) from an RV dealer (PPL Motor Homes) in Texas for $700 which fits our space exactly (fingers crossed!).
  • Shipping Service: We set up an account with Air Box Express, had the fridge sent to their office in Miami and then they loaded it on a ship to Panama City.
  • Shipping costs: When we spoke to ABE on the phone mid-December, they quoted us “between $250-300” given the dimensions & weight we relayed to them from our fridge dealer, PPL. They said they just needed to confirm weight and dimensions (to determine cost) when it arrived in Miami. Once the fridge was in Miami, ABE revised their quote to $600 and we eventually paid just over $500 when it arrived – still a big difference from the original quote!
  • Shipping time: They said we should expect the fridge around the first week in January (about 2.5 weeks from the time of ordering with the holidays in the middle). But, it didn’t actually come to Panama City until January 27th (6 weeks from receiving the fridge in TX) – also a big difference from the original quote.
  • As a REMINDER to all yous arm-chair fridge-shoppers out there: Get this stuff in writing! We didn’t and should have.
  • Had we still been in the Guna Yala, we could have be able to go to Panama City on the 4×4 from Carti for $50 RT and bring the fridge back to the boat in a panga (for an additional charge).
  • But, we were in Portobelo by the time the fridge arrived. So, arranged to load the fridge in a taxi-van from ABE in Panama City to Portobelo for $100.
  • Our new fridge *just* fit through the door and installation was super easy. However, PPL neglected to tell us that their fridges don’t come with decorative fronts. Instead, they come “complete” like this:

When I told the dude at PPL they made a mistake in not including a cover he looked up our part number and replied “Sorry ma’am looks like there is no cover made for this model. People usually like to build their own to match their RV’s interior” to which I replied “well, that just sounds craayzzzee to me!”. Needless to say, D took off the old fridge cover and put it on the new fridge.

As for the old fridge, a budget cruiser moored behind us in Portobelo took it off our hands and pledged to work on it. I did not talk him out of that!

I’m sure others may have gone with different choices but this is the choice we felt best for us. Hopefully, this little skinny will help anyone else considering a replacement.

That’s all folks! (she says with an ice-cold beverage in hand :))

Panama Canal transit part deaux

This past weekend we had a great diversion from The Great Waiting Game of Portobelo: an invitation from our best boat buddies Jess & James on S/V Adamastor to linehandle for them as they bridged the divide between the Atlantic & Pacific through the Panama Canal.

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Jess & James in the Gatun Locks with the Caribbean BEHIND them!

In addition to our sparkling personalities, our good friends were excited to have us aboard in part because we had a bit of experience linehandling, having helped S/V Santorini through the Canal almost two years ago during our overland travels.

Linehandling aboard S/V Santorini in 2011

During the 2011 trip, we crossed from the Pacific to the Caribbean so we were excited to go the opposite way this time with our good friends, and with Damon’s brother, Dylan, too!

Jones’ at the bow in the Gatun locks

On Friday, once Kemah and Mother Jones were squared away in Portobelo, we made the short trip to Shelter Bay Marina to meet the boat and our friends – we even had enough time to take a dip in the marina pool and do some laundry – aww, marina life!

But, it was no rest for the weary and we were up bright and early on Saturday to do final prep on the boat, motor to the flats and await our advisor.

Although Canal transits have been completed by untold vessels in the past 100 years, Jess was especially buoyed to transit on the 26th – her lucky number.

Another kismet aspect of the transit we came to discover was that our 2013 Advisor (William) was, in fact, the same Advisor we had in 2011!

Advisor William on the soft mooring in Lago Gatun for the night

Our wondeful advisor, William, on the soft mooring in Gatun Lake in 2011

It was a real treat to have a familiar face aboard for this new transit; in addition to the change in direction, this time we rafted up and center-tied rather than tying to a tug, like we did in 2011.

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James at the helm in the Gatun locks. Note: we’re rafted up to a cat on our port side.

Regardless of the new operations, Team Adamastor transited the Canal safely & swiftly – and we even had some fun, to boot!

crossing into Gatun Lake

Jess & James happy to be on their way to the Pacific

But, what happens on a Canal transit, stays on a transit so you’ll just have to enjoy this photo essay 🙂

past Culebra

Past the Culebra Cut in the Pacific

Click to see more photos of the 2011 transit or 2013 transit.

The Great Waiting Game of Portobelo

Here we be wait. In Portobelo.

Portobelo, which can’t decide whether it’s a diamond in the rough or a lump of coal.

We are waiting on our fridge to arrive (“only two MORE weeks”) and we’re waiting for a weather window North to Guatemala (February?).

Jess says if you have to wait, it ought to be less frustrating to be waiting on two things, rather than just one. Hmmmm.

Anywho, perhaps we’ll get the chance to get to my favorite beach, Playa Blanca, again. Until then, we wait.

San Blas or Bust?

We spent the holidays in the autonomous region of the Guna Yala, formerly known the San Blas Islands of Panama.

We had actually been to the Guna Yala, when it was called the San Blas*, back in 2011, when we were mere 30-something backpackers taking a brief sabbatical – ha! look how that turned out!

*fun fact: the name “San Blas” was “given” to the Guna by the Spanish (invaders). So, needless to say, they prefer to refer to their own land by their own name: the Guna Yala. The people are the “Guna”. You may have read/heard them referred to as the “Kuna”, with a “K”, but alas, they have no “K” in their language. So, Guna Yala it is. Fair enough, I say.

Here are a few great pics of our 2011 trip (pre-life as live-aboards on our very own boat):

Landing in the jungle

Landing in the jungle on the little “airport” at Aligandi

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our lodge in 2011

Our lodge

Our lodge from the air

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sailing cayuco

where we had lunch!

where we had lunch!

shallow much?

shallow much?

beautiful Kuna, beautiful molas

beautiful Guna, beautiful molas

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sewing molas

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crowded islands in the Guna Yala

thatched roof and solar panel

thatched roof and solar panel

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Guna women with the mainland in the back

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hammock time for the Jones’

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Mom in the San Blas

Pretty awesome, right?

Needless to say, we were excited to return to these awesome islands.

So, off we went, from Linton on a mission to re-discover these islands on our own boat. Look at the welcome gift we got on the way!

en route to San Blas

en route to San Blas

We had heard a ton of amazing stuff from other cruisers and were super excited to explore the famous “swimming pool” and “BBQ Island” of the Eastern Holandes, to snorkel the wreck at Dog Island and generally become part of the cruising culture of this unique region.

The "Swimming Pool" made by the reef in the E. Holandes

The “Swimming Pool” made by the reef in the E. Holandes

the wreck at dog island

the wreck at dog island

On approach from Linton, the Guna Yala basically look like a mirage of trees sticking out of the water, until closer and closer you get and then you see it: small bunches of palm trees on small spits of sand, sticking out of the water, behind barrier reefs.

Porvenir

Porvenir with the mainland in the background

Porvenir

Porvenir with Panamanian Navy boats docked out front

And, it’s pretty darn cool to (safely & comfortably) watch the force of the Almighty Atlantic Ocean stopped by the walls of coral which run the north side of the Guna Yala’s island strings.

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a storm coming in off the Atlantic

We spent just about a month in the islands and I’d say our experience was very mixed.

On the positive side, the islands are picture-postcard beautiful, the water is gin-clear, there is total (safe) solitude if you want it and just enough veggie boats coming by and tiny outposts where you can get anything you need.

the best way to see if your anchor is set

now that’s some clear water!

One of the major highlights for us was spending our Christmas and New Year’s anchored off the tiny little island of Wasaladup; Kemah could run around, there weren’t any bugs, there was a really nice breeze and soft, white sand.

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Our own private island for the holidays

For about a week, we had the whole place to ourselves. Then, our best buddies on S/V Adamastor joined us and together we made a big ole Tex-Mex Christmas dinner of spanish rice, homemade tortillas and TWO different kinds of enchiladas: chicken with green sauce and cheese with a chipotle-pasilla “beef” sauce. (By the by, I’ve made these enchiladas from Homesick Texan twice on the boat – they are that good! And, I use TVP instead of beef.)

Needless to say, we were in the Yum Zone, with Elf on in the background, twinkle-lights up and a few Santa hats and ornaments hanging around the boat. Life was good.

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Xmas dinner aboard S/V Adamastor

By New Year’s a few boats joined us and we had a little party on the beach to celebrate. I had some wish lanterns on the boat and they made for good fun. (Just make sure the dinghys and big boats are clear out of their path if you’re gonna play with fire. Almost learned that one the hard way . . .)

Another experience in the Guna Yala I really liked was dinghy-ing up the Rio Azucar just off Nargana. I guess isn’t so surprising that I loved this, given I always enjoy a good “dinghy ‘splore” and especially if it involves fresh water. However, this river was rumored to have crocodiles in it – so I was a little nervous to jump right into this adventure.

But, after a month in the boonies, we need to wash a few items of clothing (’cause you only need to wear a few items of clothing when you live in the boonies, Tropics-style). And, we needed some fresh water – which we harvested from the river (yes, people do this, including us, you just find a good clear spot that’s running, toss a little bleach in and you’re fine – at least we are, twitch, twitch ;).

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Rio Azucar

I am happy to report that we did not see any crocodiles (does that mean they were just lying in wait for us???). But, we did have a little wildlife encounter – emphasis on the “little”:

I had one leg slung over the side of the dink, the mouth of one of our water jugs shoved down into the water* and I was feeling pretty confident – after all, this was my 3rd jug to fill that afternoon, which is harder than it sounds, given you have to basically sink a 6 gallon plastic jug full of air mouth-into running water. And, so far, so good: water jugs were filling without any sign of crocs = win/win! 

But, just at the moment I seemed to feel most relaxed, the water started to boil and churn at the mouth of the jug and, startled, I jumped (and screamed a bit). “What the what!?!” It seems a small school of minnows happened by, got swirled to the mouth of the jug and one even made it in! “What the what!?!” Yup, after a year on the boat, this minnow, at the bottom of our water jug, was the 1st fish I’ve ever caught while living aboard . . . and, his presence at the bottom of my jug meant I had to completely empty and refill it lest the little critter end up in the bottom of my water tank aboard Mother Jones – I’m not sure how much bleach would fix that sitch!

Aside from our accidental fishing fun, I found it to be really a neat experience to join in with the locals washing our clothes and getting drinking water from the river. Given how wealthy we “yachties” seem to so many communities we visit (even when we don’t seem wealthy at all to ourselves, when we are in fact super wealthy compared with the majority of people on this planet) it’s basic needs like potable water and clean clothes that show us all to be in the same boat – at least for a few minutes, even if ours is inflatable and theirs is made out of wood.

Rio Azucar - where we got our fresh water & did the laundry!

Rio Azucar – where we got our fresh water & did the laundry!

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filling the tanks is hard work

filling the tanks is hard work (note the bleach above my sleepy head)

Unfortunately, in addition to the fun stuff, some crappy things happened during our month in the Guna Yala. (hence the title of this post . . . get it?)

Crappy Thing 1 and Crappy Thing 2 happened one right after another, within days of arrival. The first of the crappy things was a terrible stomach bug I got when we first arrived.  It lasted for four days, twenty minutes at a time. Yuck. Ouch. Just get me out of here!

Thank goodness we had Where There is No Doctor on board to walk us through some re-hydration techniques and confirm our suspicion that if things did not turn around by Day Four, we needed to get professional medical help (luckily things turned around ON day four).

Two days into Crappy Thing 1, Crappy Thing 2 happened: our fridge broke. “Broke” as in leaking stinky ammonia, no way to fix it “broke”. Awesome! Here we sat, in the middle of nowhere, stocked to the gills of provisions for the month we planned sitting in the middle of nowhere with no way to keep said provisions from spoiling. Luckily, our good friends on S/V Adamastor offered – and had space to – keep a few things in their fridge. But, for the month we spent tooling around the islands, with and without them, we mostly went without refrigeration. All-in-all, minus the hours we spent online trying to figure out how to get a new fridge to Panama, I’d say it was a pretty okay experience, being without a fridge that is.

We took it as a (short-timer’s) opportunity to be those super-cool cruisers who go without a fridge full time. And, we used not having a fridge as an excuse to eat fresh food – like super fresh food.

1st Hawaiian Sling Shot

1st Hawaiian Sling Shot

crab for lunch!

crab for lunch!

yum!

yum!

And, as it turns out, there are a whole lotta things that don’t need refrigeration. The main pain for us was not being able to keep left-overs and therefore having to cook every meal, hurry up and eat the same thing all day if we made something big or eat processed foods in single servings. Luckily, we had our boat buddies around to help us eat through big meals and keep some stuff in their fridge (like beer and New Year’s champagne!).

Onto Crappy Thing 3: Damon got a staph infection just above his ankle that swelled to the point it was really painful and immobilizing.

Damon's Xmas present: a festering wound

Damon’s Xmas present: a festering wound

We knew to watch out for dark, spider-like veins heading up his legs – signs it was turning serious (as opposed to just seriously uncomfortable). But, given our circumstances (being in the middle of nowhere) and our general approach to medical intervention (conservative) we basically had no choice but to let it run it’s course, aided by multiple hot compresses and a dose of Cipro we had on board. It was almost two weeks of immobility (no snorkeling, no beach-combing, no pulling up anchor, no FUN) before he was ready to pop, be milked and back in action.

In case you’re keeping score, that’s 3 weeks of Crappy Things that happened during our month in “paradise”.

“But, these things are merely circumstantial” you might say. “Surely, the Guna Yala is paradise and not to be missed, right?”. Well, it depends.

In addition to these totally circumstantial farts on our wet-dreams of paradise, there were also a couple of things we found less-than-desirable that are worth pointing out, including:

  1. “Change” aka the unavoidable paradox of “untouched” places & cultures being “touched” by curious outsiders (including us? yes, us). Where there once was no in-organic trash there are now plastic bottles, plastic bags and other flotsam & jetsam. Where there was once abundant fish and lobster, over-hunting has taken a toll. Where there was once peace & quiet on islands like the Lemmons or in Nargana, there is the loud humming of generators to power TVs broadcasting Telenovelas, speakers blaring pop music until 6am and fridges cooling down beer. Speaking of which . . . where there was once only a yearly festival where sugarcane was fermented in a long process to make “chicha” and everyone (Grandmas, included) got hammered (by 9am) in good spirits, there is now Panamanian beer widely available for anyone who wants to experience getting drunk (not just sipping a few) on a daily basis (this mainly involves men, especially young men). And, of course, the traditional dress unique to Guna is going by the wayside – especially in men. Hmm . . . I’m beginning to see a pattern here. Of course, all of this is influenced by “outsiders” (like us, but more likely everyone they see in Panama City or on the tee-vee). Now before you get all “lookiehere, Missie” with me, I don’t have any romantic notions of change always being a bad thing – I know it’s not always as simple as “Vaccines, good; Plastics, bad”. But, like the tip of an iceberg, it’s hard to see what deeper societal transformation from the “modern” world lie just beneath the surface. *And*, I TOTALLY get the irony of an outsider (me) complaining about a bunch of outsiders (“other people”) changing things (it’s like that bumper sticker I see on cars while I’m sitting in traffic: “You aren’t sitting in traffic, you *are* traffic”). But, I try. We try. We try to respect the native ecology and support the local culture as much as we can – like, say, throwing back a small lobster or buying a HUGE crab from a local fisherman. (I kid, I kid, but not really) Seriously, we try to tread lightly and play by the rules (even if there are none, you know there are basic rules, c’mon people!). But, I can’t speak for everyone. 
  2. Speaking of other people . . . we saw some bad behavior in the Guna Yala aka Don’t be these people! The Guna Yala, as an autonomous region, has clearly laid out the law of the land that no one except a Guna is allowed to own land or make money in the Guna Yala. It is a place for Guna, by Guna; and they are gracious enough to allow us as guests. However, we met several folks specifically flaunting these regulations: one cruising couple openly told us they were breaking the law by advertising and accepting charter guests for the PAST SIX YEARS; another has created a permanent mooring in The Swimming Pool for the PAST TWELVE (they go so far as to say they aren’t cruisers anymore -“we’re liveaboards” – afterall, they don’t ever move the boat. These folks even have a salt-water aquarium IN THEIR COCKPIT if that tells you how little they move). And, then there’s the much-debated “backpacker” boats which shuttle travelers looking to bridge the Darien Gap through these waters. At around $500 per person, these sail boats and their captains ferry up to 14 passengers at a time from Panama to Columbia – in an unregulated industry, in all kinds of weather with varying degrees of respect for the Guna and their regulations. It’s bad boaters like these that have caused the Guna to recently enact a 30-day limit on permits to cruise their waters. Only time will tell whether this will slow  the unwanted changes in their region.

Finally, even if we weren’t sick and our modern conveniences didn’t break and I wasn’t pre-occupied by my over-active conscience and my martyr’s bleeding heart, I would still say this: the Guna Yala just isn’t for us. We found it boring.

*gasp* shun *the horrors of horrors*

It’s almost as if all of the sand-ringed, waving-palm, reef-fringed islands all started to look the same – because they did all look the same to us.

And, we found some of the long-term cruisers to be kind of snooty ala “I can’t believe you liked Bocas! San Blas is the best!” said the nose-upturned-rule-breaking-over-staying-guest-of-the-Gula-Yala

“Yeah, we did like Bocas. Have you ever been?” – us

“No!” – them

okay, whatever

as in, seriously, “whatever” you like is great for YOU (just like whatever I like is great for me, right? it’s not a competition, right?)

The Guna Yala just didn’t hold much appeal for us – for a month. I would totally recommend these cruising grounds to an avid snorkeller, diver, spear-fisher, windsurfer or even someone who just wants to do nothing and read until the cows come home (this is good news for all you bibliophiles as there are no cows in the Guna Yala so you can read FOREVER).

We just don’t like to do those things. And, I didn’t always know that. And, it was interesting to learn that about myself.

So, what do we like? All sorts of stuff, including the stuff in the Guna Yala (clear water, beautiful islands, swimming, solitude). Confused yet? I can understand that. Let me say this another way: we like variety. While it was beautiful in the islands, we had had too much of a good thing and were ready for something else.

I realized I missed architecture, I missed salad (shocker), I missed the diversity of people (locals, travelers, expats, boaters) in places like Bocas, Portobelo or other coastal cruising grounds, where the proximity to (even off-the-beaten-path) transport can provide exploration to more than just a few fortunate boat-owners.

island, normal sailboat & the "Nautalis"

island, normal sailboat & the “Nautalis”

If it sounds a little bit like I’m complaining that my diamond shoes are too tight, forgive me. It’s just that we were ready – oh so ready – to move on at the end of our month in the Guna Yala. Just in time for Damon’s brother to arrive in Carti.

picking up Dylan at Carti

picking up Dylan at Carti

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picking up our newest stowaway, Damon’s young brother Dylan

We spent our last few days in the islands playing host and had the welcome opportunity to rediscover the wonder of the Guna Yala through his eyes – before confessing that it is, in fact possible to get tired of “paradise”.

That being said, we’ll end this installment of Adventures with D, L & Mr. K with some more pictures of the paradise we got tired of 😉

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MJ anchored in the Central Hollandes

a big ol' ray in the Holandes

a big ol’ ray in the Holandes

East Lemmons

East Lemmons

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sandbar off the reef in the Central Hollandes

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And, as always, you can check out even more pics of our adventures on our Facebook page by clicking here.

Passage notes: Bocas to Portobelo

The last two weeks can pretty much be summed up in one word: RAIN.

Yes, December is the Rainy Season. Yes, Panama is a rainforest.  But it’s the Caribbean, right? Shouldn’t we get some sunshine on these deserted beaches and magical rivers we (planned to) visit? “No”, is apparently the answer.

We left Bocas a couple of weeks ago with the intention of stopping in some super-cool spots, which also happen to be fair-weather anchorages. Well, guess what? We’ve had NO fair weather. Everyone said we were getting a late start to this passage: “November is unpredictable; you really should’ve gone in October”. Thanks, thanks a lot. I know folks mean well, but unless you have a time machine handy, maybe not so helpful to suggest we should’ve already done something. Just sayin’

But they were right; we missed all the cool stuff we wanted to see along the way: the “secret beach”, Tobobe and the Rio Chagres. And, while we did stop at Escudo de Veraguas, it was so rainy and windy that we didn’t even get to enjoy it properly. Blarg.

So, in the interest of reporting to the cruisers (and all you folks at home) what indeed happened, here’s what we ended up doing instead:

Stopping in Bluefields for two nights. Bluefields was fine. It was fine last year. It’s a super-protected and calm anchorage which meant a nice, calm night’s sleep. But, it’s also one of those places where locals pull up in their Cayucos and hang on your lifelines and stare into your cockpit/cabin/dinghy for upwards of an hour.

While I don’t mind at all when folks come to sell or trade with us or even if they want to engage in some conversation, there’s something about someone silently looking into your windows for what feels like for-e-ver that I dislike very much.

I mean, I understand that in a place like Bluefields, which is very remote, visiting yachts can seem as foreign as spaceships and therefore certainly attract curiosity but boats have been coming to Bluefields for years, so you think folks might get used to it, right?

It seems that perhaps the good folks who call Bluefields home have come to start expecting something from the cruisers . . and, this is when I’ll get on my soapbox . . . if you are someone who likes to support an increase the quality of life for those in remote places, please do not give out hand-outs (especially to children). It doesn’t help anyone. You might feel good in the moment, but it’s not at all good in the long run. Trust me. Or, at least trust them. Off the soapbox . . .

Lucky for us in the case of the lifeline hanger-on’rs, we have a secret weapon: “el perro bravo” (a dangerous dog). Don’t get me wrong, we don’t sic Kemah on anyone, but I don’t mind that it’s not particularly welcoming to have a big dog barking at you when you’re not particularly welcome.

So, back to Blue Fields, the highlight of the stop-over was being invited over to a (new) friend’s boat for lobster dinner. Acuncion and Ivan of S/V Paloma were amazing hosts. We had loads of lobster, caramelized onion & garlic mashed potatoes (I made these!) and then capper of all cappers: flan. Yum! To top everything off, our dinner was hosted aboard a Lagoon 40 and that boat is sa-weet. Funny, though, while they have a TON more space aboard, they really don’t have much more room(s) than the Gemini and I bet their maintenance costs are much more – see, we’re fine without that fancy boat 😉

After Bluefields, we headed out for Escudo de Veraguas, a beautiful island only a day-sail away – past the two other amazing stops we meant to see (the “secret beach” and Tobobe).

Escudo was an easy day sail from Bluefields. We had been looking forward to Escudo since our stop-over here a couple of years ago. It’s a beautiful island surrounded by reefs and, after a couple of days on the boat, we were ready to get anchored and explore.

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Escudo’s hidden coves

 

D, photoshopped into paradise aka Escudo, in 2011

D, photoshopped into paradise aka Escudo, in 2011

But . . . the weather continued to be uncooperative. Even upon approach the “anchorage” seemed to be uncomfortably rolly but we snaked our way closer to the beach and quickly radio’d back to our buddies on Adamastor that they had the depth to follow us.

While they snuck up on the beach, we continued to radio them of a dangerous rock just off our starboard bow – but wait – what!?! The rock was moving – huh!?! James thought it was, perhaps, a whale, but as it got closer and closer we realized it was a HUGE rootball attached to a downed palm. It must have been the heavy rains that broke it lose. And, AFTER we used the boathook to poke it away from drifting between our hulls, we all a good laugh about the “dangerous moving rock” in the Escudo anchorage.

We spent a few days at Escudo waiting for the weather to change and even took advantage of short break in the clouds to dinghy-‘splore the coastline and walk along the big, wide beach. While there were a few highlights in the form of tucked-away coves and a cool, fresh river washing out to sea, unfortunately, the impression that was left with us from our beach walk was the horrid amounts of plastic flotsam and jetsam littering the shore. Makes ya kinda wonder what all the crap was made for if it’s just gonna end up on some otherwise-beautiful beach. Seriously, earthlings (including us, of course) we have *got* to get it together.

Despite our depressing walk along the beach and the lack of snorkeling we did manage to have one particularly entertaining – although it was alarming at first – experience at Escudo:

It was dark-thirty. Damon and I were on Adamastor enjoying a movie night with Jess and James. All of the sudden, Jess popped up, snatched our attention away from the film and called it to the flash of white light that just came through the porthole across the screen. In slow motion, we all seemed to come to the same silent conclusion: “Right, of course, we’re in the middle of nowhere, on our boats. We should definitely be concerned about those lights – which definitely aren’t headlights shining into our living rooms from a passing car. WHO IS OUT THERE!?!”

Suddenly, we were all up from the settee, out in the cockpit and trying to discern the figures and make of boat approaching us quickly from the sea. Of course, with their lights shining  in our eyes, it took us a minute to make out the five men, in fatigues, with machine guns slung over their shoulders headed towards Mother Jones – where Kemah was holding down the fort.  Relief washed over us all. It’s funny that the sight of those big men with their big guns was a welcome sight: it meant they were random pirates coming for us, they were *government* pirates, at worst.

We signaled them to come to Adamastor, where over the next hour they checked Adamastor’s paperwork and did a cursory inspection of the vessel. When it came time for our turn of the government check, the men opted not to move over to the Kemah-stronghold of Mother Jones, instead asking us to take our dinghy, get our paperwork and bring it to them, which we happily complied.  God bless that terrifyingly ridiculous dog.

While El Jefe worked on our paperwork, I offered the group some refreshments which they accepted tenderly while explaining clearly they did not expect, and could not accept, any gifts – amazing!

All-in-all, their impromptu visit turned out to be quite pleasant as we ran through the rigamaroll exchanging Spanglish with each other. We were also happy to have them anchored next to us for the next two nights – although we were very happy to be sleeping in our cozy berths rather than under a tarp in a panga like these commandos.

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Making friends at Escudo

But, our luck with the friendly pirates was not to rub off on the weather. We had enough of the rain, enough of a rolling anchorage and so it was time to head off to Portobelo on our first overnighter since this.

The afternoon we left was fine. We had a little excitement as a few swallows came aboard for a rest – which is totally fine unless Mr. K sees them. Then, it’s pandemonium whilst he scrambles about giving it his all to give them their namesake.

1-kemah swallow

Once night fell, the easy afternoon turned.

“Once bitten, twice shy” was I as I listened to a familiar sound of the halyard clanking, felt the familiar motion of pitching into the seas ahead and watched the running lights cast its eerie red glow on the deck and dark waves. Ugg. We shot towards Portobelo at the quick pace of eight knots in high seas. It seemed all-too-familiar.

I was uneasy. I white-knuckled my shift. When D got up for his we had a come-to-Jesus. Turns out I wasn’t the only one “remembering”.

“Why do we do this?” was the question de nuit; both of us remembering the last time we asked each other *that* question on *that* passage.  It was sobering. And good. We were on the same page: we love cruising; and, we have a healthy respect for the ocean; we have fear; and, we have the where-with-all to acknowledge it, make corrections and keep moving forward. So, we reefed.

Just like that, it seemed the sea exhaled. Mother Jones settled into a comfortable lob and we settled into ourselves again.

*******

The rest of the night and into the morning we gently pushed forward. We had the engine on ever-so-slightly just to help us maintain course against the current and winds pushing us towards the coast. (To other sailors out there heading this way this time of year in Easterlies, I’d strongly recommend you head north at least 15 or so miles off Escudo and then tack back towards your Colon or Portobelo destination)

Like other missed destinations, I was disappointed to have to pass on visiting the infamous Rio Chagres.  But I knew it was the smart move: two years earlier we had stood at Fuerte San Lorenzo and witnessed a yacht washed aground (and then picked clean) from an unscheduled discharge of the Rio Chagres dam by the Canal authority. As a matter of fact, the Canal Authority apparently does sound an alarm to give anyone on the river – including Panamanians fishing in Cayucos or working on the shores of the Chagres – a WHOLE 15 MINUTES prior to opening the damn so folks can safely remove themselves from the path of MILLIONS OF GALLONS OF WATER FILLED WITH DEBRIS. Ummm, thanks?

washed ashore during rainy season dam openings

S/V washed ashore during a dam opening during the rainy season

But, due to us having at least one good idea a week (ambitious aren’t we?), we opted to keep moving towards Portobelo. Soon past the Rio, we were smack-dab in the middle of the Canal zone dodging the huge tankers waiting for transit or resting at anchor just after.

Even still, I can’t get over how HUGE these ships are, how much cargo they transport and, sadly, how much of it is probably disposable crap we – yes, I’m including me in the “we” here – consume all over the globe. And, how I’d be willing to bet a (literal) ton of it ends up on beaches just like the one we left less than 24 hours ago.

Or, maybe instead of one million pen caps and lighters, those ships are full of life-saving medications, fresh water, food and shelter destined for our planet’s sick, thirsty, hungry and homeless. Aww, a gal with a bleeding heart can dream, right?

Moving on to more selfish thoughts, we spent the last leg of our overnighter wet and squinting in the white-out rain happy none-the-less in part because: 1) if we *had* to be in white-out rain, we were glad to be in white-out rain PAST the tanker minefield; and 2) we were dreaming of our first stop in Portobelo: Captain Jack’s, our soon-to-be-latest stop on our Cheeseburger in Paradise tour.

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Portobelo in a break in the rain. Cheeseburger dead ahead

Adios Bocas (for now at least :)

We’ve got our Zarpe (exit/travel permit), we’ve stocked up on Abuelo, got tons of fresh veggies, fruit and laundry, and we even packed in a trip to the dentist (aren’t we responsible adults?!?). That means we’re ready to go, right? Right?

Well, it’s complicated.

I’m super-excited to get out of “town”, where the stars and bio-luminescence are the only lights for miles. I’m really looking forward to seeing Kemah’s face as he touches a virgin beach again. And, it’s always a trip to go on a scavenger hunt for this or that in a completely foreign place.

But, I also keenly remember the loneliness I found myself experience not being part of a community, but one proverbial ship passing another in the night. And, as you may remember, the last time we were actually sailing, this happened. Gulp.

Finally, it’s with a heavy-heart we leave the place we’ve called home more than any other in the last two years (can you believe we’ve spent 8 months in Bocas?). They say that having something to miss is a good sign it’s been good to you and we definitely feel that with Bocas.

We’ve been so fortunate to have made so many great friends, many of whom helped me out a TON when Damon was gone. I could go on and on about the adventures we had when I wasn’t tapping one friend or another for an extra hand, but what happens in Bocas . . .

Two incredibly good friends we’ve made are Jess and James on S/V Adamastor. It was a kismet meeting through an old friend from Austin that brought us together – quite literally as they anchored a little too close on our first night together and our boats went “bump in the night” – whoops! But, all’s well that ends well and we like them so much (and they us, it seems) that we’re setting out on both of our first “Buddy Boat” experience.

Over the last couple of weeks, we’ve had several study sessions pouring over charts while snacking on Velveeta (James: “It’s like low-class fondue!” Me: “It’s not ‘like’ low-class fondue, it is low-class fondue!”). And, now, we’re off!

We’re excited to compliment each other: they with their fancy-schmancy SSB radio & radar and we with our shallow draft and Chief Security Officer.

Curiously enough, they, too, had a terrible time sailing last, where they also ripped their head-sail and have spent the last five months repairing and recuperating here in Bocas. So, we’ll both be easing back into the big blue, alone, together.

Our next port of call is Portobelo (me encanta la historia de Portobelo!). As to how long until we reach Portobelo, I dunno, the 150 miles or so could be an easy day and a half of straight sailing but we’re likely to spend a couple of weeks meandering along depending on how the weather cooperates and how much we like a particular spot.

In case you’re curious about our sail plan (Mom) for our upcoming trip East, I’ve included a map below (we all know how much I lurve maps).


View Bocas to San Blas sailplan in a larger map

We won’t have access to internet, but will be making good use of our SPOT tracker (thanks again, Sunni y Chet!). So, you can follow along here.

Speaking of following along, I’m also really looking forward to using the time away from shore (and the internet) to get some good writing done (on my shameless backlog of posts), so stay tuned!

Until Portobelo!

L, D & Mr. K

 

WaSUP!!!!

WassssSUP!?!

Hey everybody!

We’re alive!!!! And, by “we”, I mean Mr. K, D and moi all together on the boat – yeah!

I feel a bit bad about not writing for sooooo long, but here’s the deal: only having 2 hands on the boat, instead of 4, is hard work, y’all! So, now that D’s back and we’re done hibernating with each other, I’m ready to tell some tales.

In fact, I’ve been toying with the idea of catching up in a BIG way: 30 posts in 30 days; do you think I can do it???

(you saying: “Yes, of course, do it!”)

Thanks! You’re awesome for believing in me and wanting to hear what’s up. I’ve got some awesome things to share and am wondering, too, about anything you’re interested to know. So, let me know “what’s SUP?” and I’ll whip something out for you.

I’m so looking forward to reconnecting with you, internetz, and appreciate you sharing this experience with us.

xo,

L, D and Mr. K

ps. In case you’re wondering “what SUP?” with all my bad puns, it’s because D surprised me with my very own board!!! Stay tuned for more info how it goes on my new ride . . . swoon.

Sandbar Baseball

Just a quick, fun post.

While anchored out in Bocas, next to the sandbar, this casual game of sandbar baseball broke out one afternoon.

It was a hoot, just classic Caribbean. So, I thought I’d share:

Bocas beisbal on the sandbar 2-IMG_2122 3-IMG_2123

Mom’s Visit

At the end of August, almost half-way through my time single-handing/Damon’s working time in Austin, my Mom came to visit! It was a quick 10 days, but we packed a whole lot in: 3 days in the Highlands sandwiched by 3 on either side in Bocas.

This visit was actually the second time she came to visit us in Panama – the first being last year, when were travelling overland and dropped the big bomb on her that we had no plans to return to “the real world” but instead planned to sell everything buy a boat and return to Panama. What a difference a year makes . . .  we had done it and were back were we started, showing her sights she hadn’t seen in 2011 and, in general, what our life was like on the boat (or at least what my life was like singlehanding on the boat until D came back from working in the States).

And, of course, in between showing her the sites and in’s and out’s of our new life aboard in Panama, we had this totally typical Mother-Daughter conversation:

  • Me: “Soooo, do you have any big questions for me?”
  • She: “ehh, no” (she’s a totally bad liar)
  • Me: “like, maybe: ‘What am I going to do with my life and how am I going to pay for it?'”
  • She: “sure”
  • Me: “Man, I don’t know. But, I’ll when I do, I’ll let you know!”
  • She: resigned, “okay”

I had a great time showing her my life aboard in Bocas, including the local flora:

beriba

beriba

peanut clover

peanut clover

one of my fave jungle plants

one of my fave jungle plants. Doesn’t it look like a sparkler in slow-motion?

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the bamboo cathedral at Jim Jackson’s

passionfruit

passionfruit

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at Camrykaland

shampoo ginger

shampoo ginger at George & Sue’s

and, the local fauna:

Wildlife in Tierra Oscura

a dolphin & sea bird in Tierra Oscura

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moon jelly

moon jelly – you can actually pick these up and the feel like breast implants, weird

Mom got to see the process of turning cacao into chocolate from my friends George and Sue:

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Cacao on the tree

cacao aka pre-chocolate

cacao aka pre-chocolate

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cacao bean to nibs

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powdered cacao

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frozen chocolate, yum!

And, some practical solutions in the Banana Republic:

bathroom key in the jungle is an actual banana

bathroom key in the jungle is an actual banana

She also got to see what life on the boat is really like, 8 months in:

doing dishes

doing dishes* 11/12 update: when Damon got back he installed a salt-water pump in the galley so this is a thing of the past!

getting around in the family car;

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driving the dinghy

Mario & I (ok, mostly Mario) fixing the motor when it refused to start;

fixing the engine

fixing the engine

me, fixing the head when it slipped a nut;

classic plumber shot

classic plumber shot

and, me (again) pulling up anchor (while Lorenzo supervised) when it was time to go sailing.

I am the windlass!

I am the windlass!

But, ultimately, the tropical heat did not agree with Mom.

Mama's hot!

Mama’s hot!

Mom cools off

Mom cools off

So, we headed to the hills where we could enjoy some R&R in the cooler climate in Boquete and I could do some major provisioning in David.

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Boquete!

One water taxi and one five-hour bus ride later and we were up in the lovely, lush mountains of Panama. And, boy was it a lot cooler than Bocas – about 30 degrees cooler!

how much I like cold weather

how much I like cold weather

But, it was also a beautiful change of scenery. While it was so much cooler than Bocas, it seemed just as wet; allowing Boquete’s gardens to really thrive in this temperate rain forest.

it's wet in the rainforest!

it’s wet in the rainforest!

But, oh so pretty . . .

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“downtown” Boquete from across the river

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these hanging lillies were everywhere!

We had heard that in addition to the beautiful gardens, many folks come here to bird-watch, especially hoping to see the ever-elusive Queztal. Can you believe we saw one without even trying???

A rare queztal spotting

A rare queztal spotting

OK, well, we didn’t really. It was just some fun painted rocks 🙂

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35-07-IMG_1991

That evening we took a bumpy ride several kilometers outside of town to stay even higher in the mountains (read: colder). We stayed at The Boquete Tree Trek (named for it’s ziplining through the trees, which we did not have time to do).

to/fro town from the mountains

to/fro town from the mountains in the back of the ziplining truck

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the main lodge and cabins

our cabins

our cabins

in the main lodge

in the main lodge

With its log cabins, roaring fireplace, and super-comfy beds, it was the most cozy and romantic place my mother and I ever stayed, together.

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looking into the Boquete valley from the lodge

They even had tame rabbits roaming about – yes, tame rabbits roaming the grounds!!!

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so tame!

caption this?

caption this?

One thing Boquete Tree Trek also had on site was an amazing suspension bridge (which I think are so cool, as long as I’m not on them).

suspension bridge at Boquete Tree Trek

suspension bridge at Boquete Tree Trek

as far as I went (1 foot)

as far as I went (1 foot)

Our stay at the lodge was wonderful. I would love to return (this time with my hubby): they had great food in the main lodge (pork chops with fresh cherry compote, etc), the cabins were beautiful and the grounds were amazing.

But, we were on a whirlwind tour and headed out to David so I could do some power shopping aka treasure hunting for everything not available in the islands.

First stop was La Casa de las Baterias, which is exactly what it sounds like: The House of Batteries. Basically, the battery bank on Mother Jones was fried. So, we needed new ones. For any of you cruisers out there who are curious about our new bank, after many, many conversations with other sailors we ended up going with three, 12v sealed, deep-cycle batteries mainly because of where ours are located (we can’t top them off easily, which means we won’t top them off regularly).

battery shopping - about as fun as it sounds

battery shopping – about as fun as it sounds, plus it’s expensive!

Another project on my to-do list was re-upholstering our boat (re-covering all the salon cushions and making new curtains for each thresh-hold – my clever idea to use lightweight, affordable muslin for the old curtains was foiled by mold, which loves the sugars in natural fibers).

I was so happy to find a wonderful fabric store in David. The owner was super helpful: he showed me lots of options, made sure I had everything I needed for the project (piping, good thread, etc) and he even helped me re-calculate all my measurements when I thought “maybe I want the stripes to go the other way . . .”. Needless to say, I’m super excited to get started with the makeover on Mother Jones!

new upholstery!

new upholstery!

If you’re keeping track (like I was), we had only been to two places but I now had about 60 lbs worth of batteries and 15 pounds worth of fabric to schlep home on the bus – which was not going to work. Luckily, there’s a super-advantageous service for Bocas residents where you drop stuff off in David to be trucked to Bocas in a weekly shipment (with everyone else’s goods that won’t fit on the bus) and then when it gets to Bocas, you run the truck down and get your stuff = amazing!

So, each shopping errand actually turned into two: one to get the stuff and one to drop the stuff off. By mid-day, we were ready to re-charge our (human) batteries, which we happily did at the best restaurant in David, Cuatro.

somebody likes sangria

Shopping fuel: somebody likes sangria @Cuatro

Next stops were Novey’s (home & garden store), Pricesmart (Costco) and Conway (Target) – man it felt good to get a few t-shirts without boat smell on them, it’s the small things in life!

treasure hunt find #863: dowels

treasure hunt find #863: dowels

Yep, I found the Panamanian Costco!

Yep, I found the Panamanian Costco!

 

treasure hunt treasure #6489: Panamanian TARGET!!!

treasure hunt treasure #6489: Panamanian TARGET!!!

And then, after a good night’s sleep, it was back to Bocas for just a few short, sweet days with Mom before I was back to single-handing again (read: installing the new battery bank & starting to re-upholster, pfew!).

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Mom and I at the mirador at Red Frog Beach just before she left

 

77 days

D left on Tuesday morning to go back to the States to work. He’ll be gone for 77 days. And, yes, I’m counting.

 

The past few days have been hard. In addition to the general malaise of missing someone I’m 100% in-like with, I’m sore. I’ve lifted the anchor three times, single-handed for the first time and generally been doing four-hands worth of work with two – it’s tough! It seems everything on the boat weighs (at least) 40 pounds and when I’m done with one project, the next one is just waiting for me.

I have a renewed appreciation for my wonderful partner and all he’s done (and is now doing) to keep us afloat.

And, I have a renewed appreciation of myself.

The last time I was on my own I was in my early 20’s. While I have always had an independent spirit, at that time I was recovering from some trauma which left me distrustful of the world in general and most people in particular. I was hell-bent on doing everything on my own. It was also when I delved headfirst into political work – like “do my best swan dive into shark-infested waters” delving.

It was at that time I was interning for political women’s organization and my boss bestowed upon me the nickname “lauradical”.

lauradical and the woman who named her

While I’m not sure she always meant it this way, I considered it the highest compliment – more than a badge of honor, an identity.

lauradical, with her rad hair, behind the wheel of Gussa, a ’73 IH Scout

It wasn’t that lauradical wasn’t afraid to do things on her own; she was and she just did them anyway.

When lauradical didn’t know how to do things and she figured them out.

fixing the carburetor on my ’59 Ford Custom, custom painted of course

Now, lauradical is visiting me yet again. It seems she showed up just in time to her to help me remember that I can totally do this!

Afterall, we’ve done some pretty rad things together. Maybe things some would even consider radical.

Like, maybe this:

Little lauradical thinks like this

 

or this:

lauradical speaking on the steps of the Texas State Capitol

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

or perhaps something as radical as even this:

lauradical gets hitched!

So, for all those who worry about me being out here alone on the boat. Don’t you worry. I’m not alone. I’ve got friends I check in with daily. I’ve got a handsome blond keeping me company.

Chief Security Officer Kemah Jones

And, I’ve got lauradical.