October 30, 2013

Sailing the San Blas to South America

 
 
Wildcard
 
So, although the Americas is one continuous land from Alaska to the south of Chile, the road stops in southern Panama and begins again past the Colombian border. The Darien Gap for what ever reason - political or environmental, separates Central and South America and for us means I need to find an alternative to road travel, an expensive alternative to get Sixto across to Colombia and free reign into South America. There's no ferries that run the route and I didn't want to put Sixto on a plane and meet him at a Colombian airport days later so I decided on finding a sailboat that would take us both. The most reputed sailboat was booked out by a private group so I settled on the Wildcard, the NZ captain had been doing the route for years and had experience with motorbikes on board. I made it to the harbour, near the port town of Portobello which the Spanish used to transport a lot of the treasures found in Peru further up the Americas. I met the crew on the afternoon we were to set sail and together with Wayne and Carlos we comfortably got all Sixto's 205kg's winched onto the deck and securely fastened and covered for the 5 day cruise to Colombia. Getting him wet with salt water was a worry but they assured me the waters were calm at this time of the year.
           
 
 
 
The other 15 travelers arrived later on, Simon & Clare had arranged to get on the boat, I'd met Lui on AFL Grand Final night weeks earlier and in Panama City along with the Dutch group of three. The other passengers were Swiss, German and a couple of groups from Melbourne. Together with the crew there were 20 on board, two cats, a dog, Sixto, no showers and plenty of booze. Not so spacious but comfortable enough.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The journey included about 35 hours of travel and spent the first three days wandering around the San Blas islands, an archipelago of 365 islands, some tiny with a couple of palm trees, the largest with an airport and immigration office. Most of the islands are inhabited by the Kuna Yala indigenous group which were forced here when the Spanish arrived and mistreated them in parts of Panama and Colombia. The legend has it that they defeated the Spanish when they arrived at the islands in a vicious battle. They have since successfully revolted against the Panamanian government's attempts to suppress their customs and have been granted autonomy in control of the islands. Plantains, coconuts and fish are eaten and coconuts and lobsters are exported. The people come with big smiles and a very relaxed manner.  
 



We spent an evening on one of the islands where the local women prepared a lobster feast. 

 

We visited one of the larger islands one day and were given a tour of the community, it felt somewhat obtrusive but interesting to see the housing, colourful clothing and hear of their proud independence and communal way of living. The children go off fishing in dugout canoes or play music when not at school.


 
5 days of chilling out, playing chess, listening to music, reading, swimming to the islands, snorkelling, drinking beer and Nicaraguan rum, drinking games, sea sickness and throwing up for some, making bonfires on  the islands and learning a thing or two about Debbie and Wayne's life of living on the boat and sailing the Caribbean for the past few years.  
 


With my buddies Lui and Simon 
 
 
 
Coming in to Cartegena bay and South America on our fifth afternoon after two days of open seas, rain and a bit of swaying. It was the evening Colombia qualifies for the World Cup, I missed the celebrations in the streets as I chose the spend the final evening on the boat in the harbour with a couple of the guys and the crew. We finished off the beer and enjoyed the extra space and talk of Colombia and sailing.  
 
 
 
The following morning we called in a boat to carry Sixto to the dock and slowly and surely tied him up and winced him onto the little boat. The two Colombians with the boat assured me we'd get there safely and dry.   
 
 
 
Lucas, Wayne, Carlos and I balancing Sixto while Dennis lowered the ropes.
 
 
 
 
 
Cleanly shaven for a new continent, happy and ready to slowly get to land where 6 of us lifted Sixto onto the timber dock.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Immediately cleaned once on land to get rid of any salt from the sail and ready for sunny Colombia.
 

October 27, 2013

Nicaragua and getting to the harbour


 

An easy crossing gets me into Nicaragua, things get simpler, slower and considerably cheaper. A land of lakes and volcanoes and sadly just another Latin American country invaded by the Spanish 400 years ago and more recent US interventions to prevent the construction of a canal and fighting the rise of the guerilla movement. I’m constantly hailed on the roads in the hope of hitchhikers getting a ride until they see my bags taking up the space behind me. Leon was my first stop, yet another colonial town but this one has an unusual charm as it seems little money is spent on restoring the buildings and is not so obsessed with comfortable tourism. The beer is better here. There’s so many river crossings that never get tiring to gaze over especially when they open up to the sea or snake through a deep valley. I’ve now reached the edge of my large map of Mexico so I spent an afternoon searching for a map of Nicaragua in vain and settle for a sketch of the country from google maps which is working well. Getting lost is always fun until the directions I’m offered contradict each other. A cop catches me out overtaking on a continuous line and sends me on my way after a pep talk and a $4 bribe. The sunny lunch stops in the mountains are so restful, people watching as the buses flow through, the commotion builds then returns to silence. The chatty women cooking away with humble facilities amuse themselves by poking fun at me on a ride up to Esteli. Is that your horse they ask, nodding towards Sixto and stand nearby for a camera phone shot. More rice and beans and tough cuts of beef.   

 

The two lakes are vast and cover a big chunk of the country. Granada sits on Lake Nicaragua where I take in a few days and then take a ferry to Ometepe, the island within it. A real paradise it is, two towering active volcanoes on an island in a lake in the tropics.  A natural wonder. A cruise inland on the surprisingly good roads takes me to Fidel's hostel where I stay for a few days. It's more a commune with no other foreigners and an eclectic mix of Nicaraguans of all ages with assigned roles in managing the homestead. They're a warm, curious bunch who make me very welcome.
 

I set off at sunrise one morning to hike the 1400m high volcano. I chose not to pay the inflated price for a guide so take it alone. The hike up takes two and a half hours passing wet, muggy, humid and cold stages and I'm offered avocadoes from the monkeys pushing them down at my feet and scattering off. There's too much mist in the air to enjoy the views at the peak but I rest at the nearby lake and share mangoes with a Spanish couple who I passed on the way up.


On descending I daydream with my ipod on and somehow take the wrong turn down a path and after two hours I realise I'm off track. The roaring noise from the nearby animals start to intimidate me and I get paranoid that I'm being chased by when it gets closer and louder. Eventually after I jog further down the path comes to an end and the forest opens up into a huge clearing. I can see the lakes waters which put me at ease but have no idea where I am. After crossing the fields and roll under a couple of fences, I see a farmer who directs me through several farms to get to the main road. He assures me the noises were just howler monkeys, louder this time of the year he says. After asking for permission to pass through several farms and stopping to chat to the guys working the corn crops I eventually make it to the road and am guided 3 further kilometres to my starting point, no less than four hours from leaving the peak. After a few more days of hanging by the natural springs, leisurely walks and rides throughout the island I farewell my Nicaraguan family at the hostel and set off early to catch the morning ferry to the mainland and ride on to San Juan del Sur to meet Simon and Clare and their mate Luke who flew in from Canada for a short trip. I met Simon and Clare a few weeks earlier in Guatemala, we caught up in Honduras to go diving and now we spend a few days surfing and chilling out in this fun surf town in the Nicaraguan south. We get the diving group back when Steve arrives a couple days on and Ian on the weekend. We do the local rum, hangovers and surfing and enjoy our last days before the group splits once again.
  


 


 

 
 
An evening spent visiting the turtles at a nearby beach coming out to the shore. Hundreds come by two or three times a year for the six month season to dig a large hole in the sand, lay 90-120 eggs, bury them and waddle off the sea again and swim on as far as Peru, never to see their offspring which hatch a month or so on. 
 
I leave San Juan and Nicaragua, farewelling Steve and Ian who have given me plenty of laughs  and good times over the past few weeks. I have less than a week to get to Turtle Caye marina on the Caribbean coast in Panama where Sixto and I along with 16 others are getting aboard the Wildcard and sailing to Colombia, something I've been looking forward to for a while. Simon and Clare were supposed to be on the boat, unfortunately it was overbooked so they've been forced on to another leaving on the same day. We plan to meet in Panama City in a few days. I spend the following days getting through two difficult border crossings, the Costa Rica and Panama customs procedures become the most disorganized and difficult thus far. I stick to the superbly paved Panamerican Highway for this section, spending only 24 hours in Costa Rica , including my longest ride of 652km's one day and am surprisingly let off with warnings for traffic infringements on three occasions, one in Costa Rica and twice in Panama. Who says the police are all corrupt and out to get you? I can't complain so far. If the highlight whilst charging through Costa Rica was avoiding the high prices and winding through the forests of the south, the highlight of Panama was the cheapest fuel I've found so far, crossing the Panamerican bridge high above the canal as I approached the city and visiting the locks the following day. It brought me back to crossing the Golden Gate back in my first week and excitingly been pushed by the high winds feeling high in the sky. Three nights in Panama City during a weekend was a fun time, the old town is particularly beautifully and the city itself well spread out along the waters. I spend my last day in Central America meeting the Caribbean once again and arriving a few hours early to the marina to meet Debbie,Wayne and Carlos the crew of the sailboat and figure out a way to get Sixto on safely ......      
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Watching the commercial ships pass through the canal and waiting patiently as the locks balance the water levels & with Lui and Clare at Panama City harbour 
 


October 4, 2013

The Honduras Underworld



I’m back on a Caribbean island. A day after crossing from Guatemala I board the ferry with Steve from Broome and Cormick and Geraldine from Ireland to the Honduran island of Utila. I had met Steve briefly at a hostel in Guatemala and as it happens we crossed paths a few days later. The island is very chilled, a typical small island vibe with lazy people killing time and plenty of fried food on the street. I came here to scuba dive and had also heard good things about the partying. I book in with a reputed dive centre in town at reasonable prices with accommodation included. I’d never dived before so I spent the week there undertaking an Open Water Diver certificate – five days of videos and classroom theory, some shallow water practice time and six tanks worth of diving in the sea, typically 40 minutes each to a maximum depth of 18m. I get a real buzz from learning the technique and witnessing the underwater world, the variety of tropical fish and intricate walls of hard and soft coral and all the colours on show. My highlights were seeing the parrotfish, giant crabs, sting rays, the fluorescent soft coral and a long group of small squid which hovered in a straight line in the water.     

 
 
 
 
Here’s my dive buddy Kristen and our leader Doug ready to jump off into the Caribbean one afternoon. We had a cool team of instructors, these guys seem to live to dive, some making a full time job of it, others spending months on end in different parts of the world doing whatever it takes to spend time underwater. It’s a fun network of people and atmosphere.


Not sure the diving and hangovers went well together but we formed a fun group to hit the bars at night before diving in the afternoons. I had met Ian and Simon in Guatemala at the lodge where I had the fall, Simon and Claire were planning to come here to dive so we timed it well and Ian happened to show up surprisingly at the hotel. The beers flowed pretty long most nights and we got into the spirit doing the shot challenges at some bars to get the free t-shirts.

 
After a couple extra days of rest I dragged myself away from the island and made the three day trek across the country to reach the border with Nicaragua. Sixto was waiting at the port car park back on the mainland and was eager to get back on the road. We had some fun and peaceful days on the move again. I decided to take on what looked like a shortcut through the central highlands in what was a pretty sketchy road full of potholes but offered some of the greenest countryside I’d seen in a while, some happy farmers, many kids happy to wave and laugh at the gringo and much dodging of dogs, horses and chickens. I was stopped many times by the cops in Honduras, just wanted to chat really and ask of any dangers I had encountered. They were probably the coolest cops I'd dealt with, this guy here insisted I take a photo with him.