Portobelo: Autumn Anchorage from Hell

Since coming back to Portobelo from our failed sailing trip to Bocas del Torro, Mark and I have been here three weeks. During that time, it rained constantly and we had to move several times because of “funny” wind and current situations and the fact that different boats move differently. While the bay was very uncomfortable certain times, the humidity was 100%, nothing dried and mildew grew everywhere, inside (and out!) Irie. Windows could not be opened, clothes turned moldy, and towels smelled awful. We were cooped up inside a 35’ area for weeks and each time we ran an errand, we got drenched and more wet clothes were added to the growing pile of disgust. One thing we did not have to worry about: fresh water! Enough to wash our whole wardrobe, if only we could hang the stuff out to dry…

Statistics of our Portobelo stay:

• Consecutive days in the bay: 22
• Maximum wave height from swells: 3 feet
• Water color: coffee brown
• Full nights of sleep: 1
• Days without rain: 0
• Near hits with other boats: 3
• Times we had to move: 7
• Days of uncomfortable pitching: 12
• Thunder and lightning storms: 2
• Staying dry during trips to shore: 5%
• Humidity: 100%
• Total amount of sun: 1 hour
• Smoke detector alarm: 5 times ¹
• Carbon monoxide alarm: 2 times ²
• Level of crew happiness: -1
• Days of nausea: 3
• Better anchorages in the area: 0
• Level of becoming insane: HIGH
• Ranking on Irie’s list of long term anchorages: last place
• Maximum amount of anchor chain out: 200 ft. (all)
• Boats without anchor lights at night: 75%
• General feeling: Being stuck indoors for too long
• Colors of mold: black inside; green outside
• General smell indoors: mildewy
• Smell of towels: gross
• Amount of towels used: all
• Heap of laundry: growing
• Shower water: cold as rain
• Shower time: 3x a week ³
• San Blas tan: gone
• Smiles on our faces: none
• Water tank and jerry jugs: overflowing
• Color Irie’s waterline: brown instead of white
• Color Irie’s bottom: green instead of blue
• Unfinished projects: 10
• Tools out for halted projects: floor and spare bunks covered

¹ Due to cooking in a closed-up boat

² Due to opening door a crack while generator (producing exhaust) was running in the cockpit and battery fumes traveling around while being charged in a closed- up boat

³ As to refrain wet and smelly towels

Choppy, muddy Portobelo Bay with boats doing different things

Three weeks of constant rain was too much for our cup and duct tape to keep water out of the hole underneath...

Normally not of the superstitious kind, Mark and I did blame the "little wooden man" for all our bad luck and "sent" him back to the San Blas.

One hour of sun!

 

The Belgians and the San Blas

About a week ago, Mark and I met two Belgian backpackers at Captain Jack’s in Portobelo, during a quiet Happy Hour. We talked a bit and got along pretty well. The following day, after being in the same anchorage for three weeks and getting fed up with the local mentality, we sailed Irie from Portobelo back to Isla Linton. We had three tasks left before we could return to the San Blas islands: do laundry at Panamarina, take on fresh water at Casa X and spend time on the internet to wrap a few things up. Things had changed drastically since three weeks earlier and neither water nor WiFi was available anymore; a bummer, which caused us another tiring and frustrating two-day delay.

So, one day, Mark and I took a bus back to Portobelo, to spend a good day at convenient Captain Jack’s again, deal with our internet stuff and take advantage of the organized potluck.  The Belgians were still staying there and we hung out a bit more together. By the end of the afternoon, we had invited our new friends to Irie for dinner at Isla Linton the next day and they excitedly accepted a free ride to the San Blas. Veronique is a big dog lover and is on a mission to help all the unfortunate ones she meets. She has been quite successful feeding them dog food, taking some to the vet, giving medicines to others and building protective nests for new born puppies. Olivier is an “old fashioned” photographer taking black and white pictures with film. They became our guests for three days and nights.

Together we explored Linton Island, had dinner and set off early for the San Blas islands the following morning. It was their first sailing experience and one dealt better with the challenging sea conditions than the other. The waves were relatively big and the winds strong. It was a bumpy 45 mile sail, but no weather improvements were eminent over the next few days, so we took the plunge. We had been on the mainland for a month, while we hoped to spend only two weeks running errands and stocking up. The sky was grey and once in a while raindrops kept us chilled, together with the salty waves we banged into. All in all the trip was all right (nothing broke!) and everybody was happy when we finally made the Chichime Cays. 

At this point, Veronique and Olivier are dropped off at a rustic hut in a small Kuna compound to spend a few days under the palm trees, while we are enjoying some quieter times in our floating home, in the exotic islands. It’s good to be back in paradise for a little while and we are also glad to report that, after weeks of crappy weather, the sun is finally showing her face again! Now, we just have to wait for the vegetable boat to swing by, to replenish our depleting stores.

Amazing trail of leaf cutter ants on Isla Linton.

Fish! It was VERY heavy in the beginning and then... all of a sudden very light!

We did catch another small Spanish Mackerel, with body, later.

Mark and I are back in the lovely San Blas islands!
 

The (In)conveniences of Portobelo

Back in the Eastern Caribbean, seasoned sailors used to tell us that they liked that area, because everything was easy. Locals speak English, (western) supermarkets abound, gasoline and diesel can be purchased on the water, land transportation is straightforward, cruisers get together regularly, restaurants and bars are everywhere and the sailing is fun, comfortable and … easy. Being in the San Blas for six weeks was a different world: exotic, beautiful, sustainable, but a bit inconvenient. We didn’t expect anything else and planned a trip to mainland Panama to take care of boat errands around the time we planned to help Liz and Axel through the Canal.

Isla Linton in Panama is gaining popularity amongst cruisers and we made it our first stop after the 40 mile voyage from Kuna Yala. The anchorage is quite rolly and the shore side provides nothing but a friendly Dutch restaurant owner (Casa X) serving food and cheap drinks and offering free garbage disposal, fresh potable water and WiFi for customers. To get to civilization (aka shopping), you need to take one of the few scheduled buses into Portobelo or Colon and you’d better not miss the desired one coming back or a long wait or cab ride is in order… So, after a few days in the quite Linton area, Mark and I sailed the ten miles to “busier” and more convenient Portobelo.

The anchorage is deep at places, but pretty well protected and sailboats are scattered throughout the big bay. There is a short cruiser’s net every day at 9am and cruisers like the place and congregate at Captain Jack’s for happy hour, tasty Vietnamese meals or to hang out in the TV room or do some internet. On shore, there are four Chinese convenient stores that will get you by and frequent buses run to Colon or Sabanitas, where the closest Rey supermarket is located and where you change buses to Panama City.

There is a big garbage mount near the Municipal building, where you toss garbage bags, for which you are supposed to pay $1. As a cruiser, I presume, because I cannot imagine locals paying this fee to dispose of garbage. They are used to litter everywhere, avoiding trash cans – if present – throwing all kinds of wrappers, bottles and containers through car and bus windows, or just dropping them on the floor of the bus. The road sides sport a very colorful and disgusting display, wherever you go, and sometimes – especially near Panama City - workers collect the trash in big bags, placed at short intervals along the main road. Kids don’t even think once when they toss their empty juice boxes on the ground.

In Portobelo, water can be obtained at a few spigots near the waterfront, but access is quite inconvenient and water jugs are heavy. Someone recently placed a nice tap at the end of the main dock, but a few days later, it was ripped out. At the moment, you can either pull your dinghy on shore near the big municipal dock or run aground with your dinghy to access the small dock at the future yacht club. 

There are two “good” places to leave your dinghy: the municipal dock or the “publico” side of the Escuela de Ritmo dock. The first one is a public dock (we confirmed this with an important official), but a guy there has asked us for money several times, stating the dock was private and to “keep an eye” on the dinghy, so no holes will be punctured in the tubes (something we never experienced in five years of cruising)… We always lock our dinghy and engine and the only time we ever paid to leave our dinghy was in Cartagena, Colombia, where they charge a weekly fee, entitling other benefits. After a confrontation with this Portobelo guy and involving the government official, we don’t dare to leave our dinghy there anymore. It’s all about principles…

The other dock also has a bunch of kids “watching” the dinghies and you are expected to pay. Some say $1 each time/day, others just hand over some change or just leave again. We are willing to pay some money there, because it seems to be the only safe place to leave a dinghy, even though it is often way too crowded. But, two times we came back while our dinghy was being beaten up, either against the barnacle rich wall (someone moved and climbed all over our transportation device with muddy feet and the engine was lifted in a funny way – but luckily started), or riding against the lifted propeller of another dinghy. We refuse to pay when this happens. Principles…

For most of the errands, one has to catch a “chicken bus”. These are big, colorfully painted and decorated old US school buses; very picturesque. They fill up quickly and the one and a quarter hour ride to Sabanitas, to buy groceries, diesel or gasoline, is loud and uncomfortable. Imagine sitting down (but mostly standing up) like sardines pressed together in a can, music blearing from the speakers, bodies vibrating from the base (it’s like being in a disco, no, more like standing next to the speakers of a pop concert) and sweating from the heat and humidity, hitting the ceilings or jumping up from the benches with each bump on the road. Now do this for over an hour – or two hours to Colon – until all your bones ache and you understand while we feel exhausted after every errand.

Waiting for the right bus consumes a lot of time and the longer it takes; the more you are worried about refrigerated items going bad. When the bus finally arrives, your stuff is packed in the back and if you’re lucky you get piled in as well. Sometimes, one of us ends up hunched over in the springy back, the other up front with one leg outside. While the dance music blares, passengers’ lips move with the lyrics. People are generally friendly and sometimes, women get offered a seat. Other times, three adults try to squeeze onto on school children’s bench. The windows hardly slide open anymore and when the speakers are old, the walls and benches shiver. But, the rides are cheap and… we always make it back home, somehow!
 

Full Circle

The “mysterious” dish in my previous blog is called “kielbasa a la Wojo”, a meal one of Mark’s fraternity brothers in college – Wojo – prepared for his friends. He was very proud and excited about his “exclusive” meal, but nobody else shared those feelings. Instead of being savored, the sausages went airborne and an interesting food fight ensued. Ah, the good old days. On Irie, chorizo purchased in Nargana (San Blas) was used instead of kielbasa. They tasted pretty gross and came in plastic casings, which we found out the hard way… Thanks for guessing, everybody. The prize goes to Keith Kinch, who won an all-inclusive stay on Irie! When can we expect you, Keith?

By now, Mark and I have temporarily left the San Blas islands to run a bunch of errands on mainland Panama. We stopped at Linton Island for a few days to check the place out and considered basing ourselves here for the time being. The only thing the anchorage has going for it, though, is decent WiFi and some funny monkeys on the island. Buses to stores, fuel stations, Portobelo and Colon run infrequently; the bay is quite choppy and there’s basically nothing there but a friendly restaurant (Casa X) with $1 beers and fresh juices. So, a couple of days ago, we sailed on to Portobelo, the other protected bay in this area.

Portobelo is a relatively nice town, with old fort walls spread around town and the bay, an efficient bus service to Colon and jungle all around. We wake up in the mornings with the roar of howler monkeys. Town offers a few Chinese run convenient stores and free water is available at the dock. On shore, Captain Jack’s is offering a whole bunch of services for cruisers and there are many other establishments to have a (local) meal or freshly squeezed juice or smoothie. There is even a bank machine, but no fuel station. We are now officially in Central America, which means dirty streets with lots of garbage everywhere and affordable goods and meals for sale.

Portobelo is special to us for a different reason as well. This is the point where Mark, Kali, Darwin and I turned around on our yearlong camping trip through Central America, six years ago. We drove our truck camper all the way from California to Panama, over the Canal and Portobelo was our most southern point. Our Caribbean circumnavigation is now kind of completed: one half was done over land, the other over water. When we walked the ruins again, we couldn’t help but think about our precious dogs and the good times we had together. Who would have guessed that we would be back, one day, by boat this time and without our pets?