After three glorious months in Cartagena, a four-day weather window opened for us to make it around the cape and all the way to Aruba. We loved our time in Cartagena, but we needed to continue our journey east so we could arrive in the Lesser Antilles by the beginning of hurricane season. Getting east from Cartagena involves sailing directly into the trade winds and the seas they generate, and the trades are fairly relentless, making weather windows few and far between — but they do pop up occasionally, and we were ready to take advantage of this one!

The islands in the Caribbean form a huge semi-circle, from the larger islands of Cuba, Hispaniola, Jamaica, and Puerto Rico in the north, out to the small islands forming the arc from the Virgin Islands down along Guadaloupe, Dominica, Martinique, St. Lucia, St. Vincent and the Grenadines, Grenada and Trinidad (and Tobago), then back west again along the northern coast of South America through Bonaire, Curaçao, and Aruba. They’re broken into two main groups — the larger islands in the north are the Greater Antilles, and all the smaller islands together are the Lesser Antilles. The Lesser Antilles are further broken down into the Windward Islands and the Leeward Islands — the Windwards are in the southeast, from about Martinique down to Trinidad, while the islands downwind from the Windwards are all Leeward (literally, “downwind”) from there, both moving north and west. The dominant direction of the wind is directly from the east.

The way we chose to go to the Caribbean from California is considered going backwards as we are sailing against the current, the wind, and the seas versus having it all behind us, as we would have had if we chose to head to the South Pacific instead. Once we would arrive in Grenada, we would have great sailing conditions from the trade winds blowing out of the east, enabling us to sail comfortably up and down the chain of the Lesser Antilles.

We were very excited to explore these beautiful islands. Peter and I spent a week in the British Virgin Islands on a boat we chartered with friends of mine more than 30 years ago when we first started dating. We were looking forward to returning to the beauty of these islands again, but this time with the pleasure and privilege of experiencing them on our own boat.

But first we had to say our goodbyes to our friends on Discovery Passage, Lance, Tomoko and Sakura, who were staying in Cartagena until Lance got over an infection. We were worried about leaving them behind, but we got the news before our scheduled departure that he was going to be fine with enough rest and the right amount of antibiotics which he received from the hospital and after he was cleared of infection. They planned to sail to Jamaica from Cartagena which would be less of a challenging passage than we were planning.

We left in the early evening and set our sails for Aruba so we could time going past Barranquilla in the morning when it was daylight. Barranquilla is located on the western bank of the large Magdalena river, with its mouth exiting into the Caribbean Sea. The river has historically served as a vital transportation route for commerce and was crucial for the development of Barranquilla as a major port city, but it’s also notorious for the debris coming out of the mouth of the river, especially after a lot of rain, which luckily was not in the forecast. Still we wanted to be sure we could see any floating tree trunks or other big pieces of debris floating on the water from the rush of the river’s flow. (We’ve heard stories about sailors seeing whole cows floating by!)

We sailed into the night with Salacia pounding into the bigger waves which were forecast to get smaller as we continued on our passage. While the sun was rising the next morning, we made it around Barranquilla without any issues. We were still quite a ways behind our buddy boat Bohemia who left a few hours before us and we heard on the radio the voices of our friends who were just departing Santa Marta. It was amazing timing to find them leaving port while we were just passing. So we all ended up sailing to Aruba together as a fleet of six buddy boats Rochambeau, X Factor, Tessorini, Wanderer, Bohemia and Salacia.

We enjoyed listening to the chatter of friends on the VHF radio about their status and any interesting sightings they encountered along the way. (No cows!) It was a welcomed alternative to social media as it was in real time and we loved hearing each other’s voices. It was also comforting to know we were not too far away from assistance if any was necessary. For example, one boat, an acquaintance of Tessorini’s, wasn’t sure they had enough fuel to get to Aruba because the fuel dock in Santa Marta ran out of fuel before they got any. There was talk on the radio about how to transfer some to them so they wouldn’t have to turn around. It ended up being more challenging than imagined so they continued forward with the hopes of the wind picking up later in the passage.

After sunset, it was very dark without moonlight, but a very calm night, and we were able to make it most of the way around the cape by morning. This notorious cape is called Cabo de la Vela in the La Guajira Peninsula. It is known for dangerous, high-wind conditions (“breaking boats and killing sailors” [ed. note: sorry Mom!]) and is the crucial turning point for turning northeast toward Aruba. This is why it is very important to only round the cape in extremely calm conditions. Salacia ended up passing the entire fleet while rounding the cape by sunrise.

The next day was also very calm, so we were mostly motor sailing, and the time slipped by with ease. We were thrilled with how easy the momentum felt against the current. Our progress was slow but we were making good time and we expected to be in Aruba before the weather was forecast to change.

As we continued east and started to see Aruba in the distance, about 25 nautical miles away, we could also see the huge display of lightening hitting the sky off in the distance. We thought it looked to be closer to Venezuela where there were usually storms so we didn’t really find it concerning. Peter went to sleep and I took my watch at midnight and then soon after the wind started picking up on our nose. Eventually I watched as it started to increase to 30 knots and the waves were growing in size as well. Our speed slowed down significantly but we were still making progress against the current and the sea state. We were hoping to get to Aruba before any storms popped up but storms have a way of generating when the trade winds are not as strong.

For our friends who were behind us by a larger distance, it was going to take them longer to get to Aruba. The storm lasted through out the night and the wind and waves all the next day. Bohemia was not far behind us and was following a similar track which was straight to Aruba because we were both motor sailing. Other friends had decided to head north, hoping to get away from the current to pick up speed, but they ended up going into a worse sea state.

Rochambeau, a Lagoon 40 which is a heavy catamaran, slowed all the way down to less than 1 knot of speed and soon they started to receive damage to their boat from the intensity of the storm’s waves. Their heavy dinghy was hanging on their davits at the stern of their boat and soon their davits began to break and they were potentially going to lose their dinghy if they didn’t turn around, to go downwind, with the current and lessen the impact of the waves, and head back to Colombia. It was very sad and scary for them to separate from our group of friends in the middle of a storm but they ended up doing the right thing for their own safety. We have a dinghy that deflates so we can put it away in our lazarette with our outboard. We never go offshore on a passage without first deflating our dinghy and storing it with the outboard below.

Once we arrived in a safe harbor, we let out a huge sigh of relief. We still had to check into Aruba through immigration and customs at their office after navigating around a small island in a lot of wind and transiting a narrow channel and then put Salacia on the dock. The process to check in went smoothly, but it took time. They came on board Salacia to make sure we didn’t have any guns or alcohol. This is always a bit tiring but we understood the process and joked with the officials so they would not delay us and when we finally anchored, we fell fast to sleep. Sleep after a long passage is always the best!

When we woke up in the afternoon we discovered that most of our friends were still battling the heavy seas and wind the entire day and they were making very slow progress still fifteen miles out from the island. Rochambeau turned around and they were on their way back to Santa Marta, Colombia. By the end of the night, everyone made it to their intended destinations safely but after a long and arduous journey. We had the advantage of being closer to Aruba by the time the storm hit, thanks to being a bit faster. This was a difficult passage and we were very pleased with how we managed it.

After a day or two of rest we decided to move our boats to an anchorage north where there were beautiful white sandy beaches and where we could walk to or take a bus to the grocery store with lots of places to explore. The trade winds relentlessly blew over 20 knots daily in Aruba, but the island protected us from the swell, so we enjoyed the warm climate with a constant breeze, and we were happy to settle down until the next weather window opened up for us to sail east again.

One way we passed the time was by hosting Peter and Tom for dinner and vice versa. Peter and Tom are a lovely, married couple. Peter is from the Czech Republic and Tom is from the United Kingdom. I told Peter that my mother’s side of the family was originally from Czechoslovakia. He deducted from the food I grew up with that my family was most likely from Slovakia. I loved learning this information and want to make a point of visiting the country.

The sanctuary offers food to feed the donkeys at a low price. What a blessed life!

There was no shortage of friends to go on excursions with while we were waiting for another weather window to Curaçao.

We discovered the Hilton Resort on the beach across from where we were anchored which had a pool for all of us to hang out in together. The hotel staff did not mind that we were not hotel guests probably because we ate lunch during our visit and the height of the season was passing. It was a lovely way to spend time when I wasn’t working. But just as we discovered this little oasis, we noticed a weather window pop up for us to sail to Curaçao. We wanted to take advantage of it while we could because we didn’t know how long it would be before the next one.

Thank you for reading about our adventures on Enchanted Voyage. We made it through another challenging passage and we enjoyed our time of rest and exploration on Aruba. Aruba is quite touristy with all of the hotels, cruise ships and sunset charters, but it entertained us before moving on to our next destination in the ABC islands. Stay tuned as we head to Curaçao and Bonaire before sailing to the Lesser Antilles!

After spending nearly four months in San Blas, a remote region of the Caribbean, without shoes and barely any clothes, we were bracing for the impact of landing. We lived under an expansive sky, witnessing the galaxy of stars, living freely on the water with the fresh breezes, the endless variations of clouds and light, magical sunsets and the surrounding reef with all of its colorful fish to entertain us. It was quite jarring to consider exchanging all of that natural beauty for the concrete, noise, cars and pollution of a big city. But we soon discovered how the vibrancy of Cartagena’s colorful culture of people, music, art, and history made the turbulent transition back to civilization so worthwhile.

Once we arrived, we were excited to dive right into the energy of the city by going dancing! We found a club not too far from the marina which was on the 51st floor of a hotel in the Bocagrande district. It was a beautiful night for seeing the city lights and the DJ was playing a mixture of Latin and Afro-beat. The dance floor was packed with locals and some visitors like us. We wanted to experience this new culture on the dance floor where all the people were happy to greet us. Music has a way of welcoming and uniting people, doesn’t it?

The next day the ladies had to go shopping since it had been months since we bought anything new besides molas and consumables. I’m wearing a new top that actually had colors matching the colors of my mola bag from San Blas. An example of two very different cultures commingling beautifully together. In Cartagena people dress up all the time and after being beach bums for so long, we couldn’t wait to change into more sophisticated city attire!

While the ladies were off galavanting, Peter was back on Salacia managing our many boat projects. He too soon discovered that our new mainsail which was delivered to us in San Blas before we left was the wrong size! We weren’t able to get it fixed in Cartagena so we would have to wait until we got to the North Sails loft in Grenada to do the work. We had a new stack-pack made in Cartagena, to store the sail on the boom, and we were hoping to use the new mainsail as we continued east. Once again though, we needed to trim our sails to the wind, since we couldn’t do anything about it, and we were happy to have North Sails fix their mistake properly once we got it to them in Grenada.

The old, original part of Cartagena is now largely a tourist area, attracting folks from all over the world. Called the walled city, since it sits inside the original defensive walls dating nearly all the way back to the city’s founding in 1533, this part of Cartagena is rich in history and architecture, with great restaurants and a thriving night life.

Since the boats were about a twenty minute walk from the walled city, Kyle found a place there that we could all share, and we were excited to enjoy the extra space, a pool, unlimited showers, and air conditioning to escape the heat and humidity.

The rental included a housekeeper who cleaned and prepared breakfast for us, and a chef who cooked elaborate dinners a few nights a week. It was a pretty sweet deal that was very affordable compared to US prices.

Kyle and Leah did a lot of research for where to go and they heard about Ana’s Dinner Experience being a really fun time. Ana’s was full of lively entertainment, elegance and flare! It was so much fun and the food was really good too! This was one of our favorite times out in Cartagena and there are a lot of amazing places!

After experiencing so much music and dance at Ana’s we decided to go out to a dance club after where the DJ played house music with some latin beats. We were having a good time minding our own business until we couldn’t ignore the two women sprawled on a couch next to the dance floor, looking pretty out of it. It was not that late, so we were puzzled. They looked like they were either drugged or just sleeping off a dose of something they took on their own. Ingrid and I decided to go up to each of the women to check to see if they were ok in case their drinks were spiked. As soon as we approached them a man appeared who took Ingrid by the arm and told her to step away.

He seemed aggressive and Drew, Ingrid’s husband, immediately stepped up and ordered this man to keep his hands off of his wife. Then Peter got between Drew and the man to try to cool the situation. Drew and Ingrid walked away from the man and Peter went to the tell the bartender what was going on. The club immediately sprang into action, with security moving to address the situation, but the man and his friends quickly whisked the two women outside and into a car before club security could stop them.

We were all upset by the experience, and the only real explanation is that these women were being either trafficked or prostituted, and had been brought there to sleep off a dose of some kind of opiate before whisked away by their captors. Sex trafficking is a huge problem, and we wish we had immediately contacted the club staff rather than directly talking to the women. The club staff seemed very responsive and it was their place and culture to navigate.

The day after we took a stroll inside the San Diego district which was bright and clean, a far cry from the ick of the encounter the night before. It was another sunny day.

Another night we all went to Cafe Havana which played Latin music with salsa dancing. It was a lot of fun and the band was superb. We tried some of the moves but without a proper lesson it was a little awkward. Peter ended up dancing with one of the instructors who was leading him and he shared what he learned with me. All of us had a lot of fun there and went back a second time!

As the work on our boat was coming to a close a decent weather window opened up for us to be able to depart Cartagena. We wanted to sail from Cartagena through Aruba, Curacao, and Bonaire to Grenada and the eastern Caribbean islands, but this is the most difficult passage east in the Caribbean, since it’s against the trade winds and the dominant current. The Guyana current runs up the coast of Brazil and along the northern coast of South America towards Cartagena, before turning north and transitioning into the Gulf Stream.

Jubel (Kyle and Leah) and Via (Mike and Taylor) had planned a five day passage to Puerto Rico, which is an easier sail northeast across the Caribbean, with a better angle to the wind, and we decided to change our plans to cross with them. On the appointed day, they left a little before we did, and then it was our turn.

A few friends were helping us with our lines to leave the slip, when I noticed a strange sound in the engine. Peter opened up the engine compartment to take a look, and it was completely full of thick, white smoke. We quickly turned the engine off and Peter started to diagnose the problem. It turned out the starter didn’t disengage from the engine, causing the engine to drive to the starter, which produced a strong current back into the batteries which melted the battery disconnect switch! There was a small piece of insulation in contact with the extremely hot starter, which caused all the smoke.

Peter quickly replaced the starter, and installed a new disconnect switch that Kyle gave us as he was leaving the dock so we could catch up. The switch wasn’t an exact match, and there were a few disturbing electrical gremlins remaining, which later turned out to be due to the differences in the new switch. After troubleshooting for hours trying to get it to work, we finally had to accept that we couldn’t leave on this passage! It was very disappointing, to say the least, as we were mentally set on going.

We were sad to not have a chance to say goodbye to Taylor and Mike. They were heading to the US. Fortunately we were more likely to see Kyle and Leah down the path in the not too distant future. There are lots of transitions and goodbyes when sailing long distances as we have, which is hard to do. We were all sailing together since Mexico.

One thing sailing has taught us is how to adapt and adjust to constantly changing situations. It was harder with these relationships because we sailed far with them and had so many wonderful experiences together.

A major bright spot for us opened up as we got the chance to spend time getting to know Kenzy and Karyne who were on the same dock as us. They are a sweet couple we met in San Blas who are very adventurous and bought a catamaran in Panama after meeting Bev and Rolf in Los Angeles and hearing about their dream. They had very little sailing experience and learned as they sailed from Panama to Cartagena which is not an easy passage in a catamaran since it’s mostly upwind. We really enjoyed our time with them and became close friends quickly.

At this point in the season we would need to continue waiting for a window to Aruba as the windows to Puerto Rico were fading. We saw the potential of a short window to Santa Marta which was an overnight sail northeast of Cartagena on the way to Aruba. After waiting until the last minute, Peter and I decided not to go due to our interpretation of the weather forecast. The fair conditions seemed to be falling apart. We heard that it ended up being a rough passage for our friends. They endured it and once they got to Santa Marta, they ended up having a great time, but it wouldn’t have been worth the discomfort and any potential boat damage to us.

As our friends were leaving, Tom and Peter on Bohemia were just arriving from San Blas. They are a delightful couple from the UK and the Czech Republic who left San Francisco to go cruising five years prior. They were heading in the same direction as us and would be waiting for a more favorable weather window as well. A silver lining showed itself once again.

Cartagena was a city full of bright colors, vibrant music, beautiful art and delicious food. It was very different than our experience in the San Blas archipelago but it was exactly what we needed after living in such a remote setting for so long. We were met with a very positive, energetic and vibrant culture of city life. The Colombian people are super friendly and it felt safe walking around Cartagena day or night as much as we did. I’m sure there are parts of the city that aren’t safe and that’s true for every city we’ve visited so far in the US or abroad. We would go back in a heartbeat!

We did finally get out of Cartagena on a passage to Aruba and it turned out to be a decent weather window. We sailed with our friends Tom and Peter on Bohemia and coincidently, met up with our larger group of friends leaving Santa Marta. So everything worked out with us being a fleet of boats sailing a long distance on a challenging passage together.

We have a very interesting story to tell of the challenges we encountered on our passage to Aruba so keep an eye out for our next post!

Adios Amigos!!

The Buddhists think a lot about impermanence — everything that has a beginning comes to an end. After nearly four months in San Blas, Panamá, the time to leave was quickly approaching, bringing an end to this chapter of our cruise. The repeated arrivals and departures along the way always offer fresh opportunities to reflect on how our perceptions of a place are conditioned by novelty, habituation, the anticipation of departure, and finally by the memories of our past experiences.

As we prepared to leave, our idyllic days were interspersed with the maintenance, cleaning, and organizing required to put the boat back into passage-making trim, as well as the sometimes anxious anticipation of our crossing of the Gulf of Urabá, not far from the Darién Gap, rife with human trafficking and drug smuggling.

More concerning though, was the weather. Sitting at the very southwestern corner of the Caribbean, San Blas receives the trade winds and the seas they blow up after rounding the northern coast of Columbia, where they’re accelerated and bent to the south. Usually large and relentless, sailing into this wind and these seas is punishing for both the boat and the people inside, so it’s key to find the best weather window possible, when a break in the winds allow the seas to lie down, making a more comfortable passage possible.

A good weather window eventually showed itself a couple weeks in advance because of a low forming up in the north which slows down the relenting trade winds in the south. It almost came a little too soon given what we needed to accomplish before we could leave.

We came to realize that our sails were no longer safe to use from the damaging effects of UV exposure. We mostly have them covered when we aren’t using them but they were almost 20 years old. So it was time. We had ordered new sails to custom fit our boat 6 months prior and they were finally ready to be shipped. We were going to wait until we got to Cartagena so we could get them installed while at a marina. However, given this challenging passage, we decided it would be a lot safer to have sails we could trust. We put a rush on the shipping but the problem was getting them through customs and delivered to us, in a such a remote location, before our fast approaching departure date.

Luckily the sails made it to Panama City and they just needed to get through customs quickly enough so they could be delivered on time. We hired someone to pick them up to deliver them to us, but we still weren’t certain they would make it in time. So we had to wait and if we didn’t get them in time, we would have to miss this window with our friends and not have another one for a long while. We really didn’t want to miss it but through all the challenges we experienced regularly, we were learning to accept the circumstances we cannot change rather than resist them and suffer.

We waited almost the entire day, running out of things to do, and just as we started to think we would not get them in time, we saw a small boat approaching us which looked like it could be them. And indeed it was! They arrived in the nick of time. We were so relieved because we really wanted to leave with our friends as a fleet of boats which is safer than sailing on our own. We donated our old sails to our Guna friends who were very happy to put them to good use.

Once we got the sails, we quickly sailed over to Coco Banderas which was in the direction of our passage to anchor next to our friends so we could leave together in the morning. We still needed to get the Jib installed, but when we got there it was too windy for us to be able to do it. So we sailed back to where we came from and found a more sheltered anchorage. We could only install the new jib since the mainsail was fit for a stack pack and we currently had a dutchman, which are different systems for storing the sail on our boom.

A couple of the slower boats left that evening to get a head start since we would be sailing against a pretty a strong current. This window was only open for a couple of days. Since we’re fast, we decided to leave the following morning a few hours later than the rest knowing we would catch up and probably surpass most boats and we didn’t want to get too far ahead of everyone so we could all stay close enough together..

In this video you can see we were doing 8.7 knots when the average for most monohulls is around 6 to 7 knots. It was not a comfortable sail. The faster you sail, the harder the motion can be at times — occasionally the boat would launch off the top of a ten foot wave and fall into the trough behind it creating a really intense reverberation that was unsettling to say the least.

Peter ended up with some kind of stomach cramp, either from the relentless movement of the boat against the waves, or maybe from something he’d eaten. I was surprisingly feeling ok, so I took over his watch so he could relax a bit and sleep it off.

We sailed pretty fast and ended up passing all the other boats in the fleet except one, SV Via, who left over 12 hours ahead of us. We caught up to them before we got to our first stop which was Los Rosarios, a set of islands off the southern coast of Colombia, about an 8 hour sail north to Cartagena. Having a fast boat has a lot of positive benefits and getting through an uncomfortable passage more quickly was definitely one of them. We ended up waiting a couple of hours for the sun to come up before we would navigate the narrow entrance past some reef to the protected anchorage.

After a few days in the Rosarios, snorkeling on one of Pablo Escobar’s sunken planes and taking it easy, we got up early to finish our sail up the coast of Colombia to Cartagena. We were still nervous about the sea state but it turned out to be less of a beat into the waves than we expected. We were almost there!

We all made it safely to our slips in Cartagena which was a huge win and a big relief. Getting into the slip was a different story because we had to back in against the wind and current and tie up to a couple of pilings. We were able to do it first with some help from people on the dock and then we helped others get into their slips. The wind and current made it challenging, and some boats (depending on the keel) needed to be guided into their slip by our friends with their dinghies. It really helps to have a posse of friends to lean on in these kinds of situations. Once we were all settled, we could relax and be still for a while. We were finally physically attached to land for the first time in months.

Even though it was sad to leave the tranquility of the San Blas islands, we were happy to be back to civilization! We had a huge list of boat projects that we could give to hired hands. Labor was inexpensive in Cartagena compared to most places we had been visiting. Plus we were about to start living in a bustling new city in a new country that we wouldn’t have sought to visit if we weren’t on this sailing adventure. We were excited to spend time discovering what Cartagena had to offer.

Sailing life has taught us a lot about trusting life’s perpetual flow. Yes things can go wrong, and sometimes they do, but as long as we remain conscious of our present moment experience, aware of everything happening around us and with our boat, we could trust we will find our way through it. We were nervous anticipating this passage, especially with our sails desperately needing to be replaced. It all worked out in the end. Through all of our adventures thus far, we’ve come to realize that we make it through our challenges big or small, time and time again.

Stay tuned as we share the magic of Cartagena before we sail to the ABC islands.

We wish all of you a very happy and healthy new year! We hope you can let go of the challenges of 2025 with ease and allow yourselves to dream of that which brings you joy, freedom and fulfillment in life.

We are continuing our sailing adventures in the Caribbean and our intentions are to sail up the East Coast of the US. We plan to visit friends and family along the way. Please let us know if you would like to meet up with us on our journey!

Lots of Love,

Donna and Peter

As our time in the San Blas stretched like a sleepy cat, we stopped wearing shoes. Wearing so-called “foot coffins” we could no longer feel our feet in contact with the ground. So we gave them up. We were swimming, snorkeling and walking barefoot in the sand. We were mostly on the water, slowing down, living simply and freely. We didn’t need to race the clock to get somewhere, nor did we have to be concerned about dressing up to go out in the world like we did when we lived in the city. The pressure was off, with less laundry and more time to reflect on life and what actually makes us happy.

We were looking forward to having some visitors on Salacia which would be the first time since we were sailing in Mexico. Our niece Jodi and her friend Kyra were planning a visit for about a week. Jodi is our first niece (or nephew), the child of my late brother, Jack, and his wife Karen. She’s in her mid 20s and has been working hard in her job as an engineer. This trip was going to be a time for her to relax and enjoy the sun and warm water with her close friend from college. At the time, Kyra lived in Chicago, and Jodi lived in Boston, so they didn’t get to see each other often enough.

We love having visitors as it gives us a chance to share our adventure with loved ones and we get to live our experience through theirs, so we were excited to share our life on the water with Jodi, especially in such a unique part of the world. Visitors help us to appreciate our lifestyle even more, as we get to see them light up as they react to new surroundings for the first time, plus we love hosting. We also loved that she was up for the adventure, as it is not for the faint of heart. Guna Yala is in one of the more remote areas of Central America, so it would take a long flight, a jeep ride and then a water taxi to get to us.

Spending such an extended time in San Blas helped time slow way down, which allowed us to connect more deeply with the rhythms of nature and feel the remoteness of this wild environment. The myth built up around cruising is that you’re sailing into true wilderness, independent and self-sufficient, and while it is true that a sailboat makes most of the world directly accessible in a way that no other means of travel can, it’s also true that you’re always connected by a slender, elastic thread of dependence on the services and products of civilization.

Nature in and of itself is completely indifferent to our presence, with the ability to extinguish our little spark like a tidal wave extinguishing a camp fire on the beach, utterly and irreversibly. The only thing that allows us to extend our presence in these remote places is our connection to civilization — finding diesel fuel when we need it, and spare parts, as well as food. While we can make our own water, the water maker requires regular maintenance to be reliable, and spare parts to fix it when it fails. While we get to spend time on tropical beaches with cold drinks in hand, it’s easy to see how brutal life could be without the services we bring along, and without the services provided by the communities we visit.

Once it was time to meet Jodi and Kyra, we sailed to Salardup to meet their water taxi. Jodi had a long day of travel from Boston to Panamá City, where she met up with her friend Kyra for the night. Waking up at the crack of dawn after a sleepless night from all the loud music and partying happening at their hotel, they climbed into a jeep for the three to four hour drive across Panamá and into the Guna Yala Comarca, before boarding a water taxi for another hour or more to get to our boat. We waited patiently.

As soon as they got onto the boat, the first thing they did was jump into the water to cool off, feel refreshed and ready to go! Go where? Well, maybe a dinghy ride to the beach to check out the small island where we were anchored. But mostly Jodi and Kyra wanted to chill out and relax after a long arduous journey. They made it to paradise and wanted to soak up its serenity!

Well, relaxing on the boat didn’t last long as we planned a boat trip tour with our friends, and timed it so we could take Jodi and Kyra with the group. It was an opportunity for them to experience an indigenous culture and the wild jungle.

The trip was led by a Guna woman named Mola Lisa. We met Mola Lisa when she came to our boat to welcome us when we first arrived in San Blas and to sell us her colorful and meaningful molas. She was very talented. The tour she would be leading started with a trip up a river on the mainland, followed by a hike through a local community and up into the mountains, to a large waterfall, and finally a hike down the river, jumping off waterfalls, swimming through placid pools, and hiking the shallows back to the boat that would return us to our anchorage.

The Guna people generally live long lives, and Mola Lisa’s parents were no exception, finally passing at the age of 105. The Guna credit their longevity to their daily connection to nature, and their natural diets of fruit, fish, vegetables and cacao. Cacao is considered a medicine which has a lot of antioxidants and improves circulation and the heart. Her son unfortunately died at a very young age of 16 years. We are not aware of the circumstances surrounding his death.

Afterwards, she led us on a path through the green tropical jungle of indigenous plants and flowers for about an hour to a beautiful cool clear river where she spent a lot of time as a child, swimming and playing in the rapids. Her ancestors related to this river as sacred due to its pure clarity.

We each brought our lunch as we were instructed to do but when it was time to eat we learned that Mola Lisa and her crew did not bring any food for themselves. In fact they were expecting us to share ours with them. It was an interesting lesson in the generosity of Guna culture. We felt a little ashamed for not thinking of them ahead of time but it turned out we all had plenty to share. It’s funny how self-reliant sailors can be which is primarily for safety.

After lunch, we hung out around the river and took turns jumping off the cliff into a deep pool of clear, fresh water. We were met by hungry fish nipping us which didn’t hurt but left a feeling of surprise and anticipation.

The rest of the day Mola Lisa led us down the river, swimming or wading, walking on rocks and jumping off the sides into clear, deep pools. We weren’t able to get a video because we had to keep our phones dry. Ingrid and I carried the dry clothes and phones down to a meet up spot. The trip took longer than expected because everyone had to be careful not to slip and fall as they walked across logs and on slippery rocks. After we all met up again, we walked back on the trail to the boat that brought us there. It was an exciting and fun day in the jungle.

When we got back the four of us made dinner and hung out on the boat enjoying the peacefulness of the night, gazing up at the stars while bobbing around the anchorage, head to wind. There was plenty of breeze to keep the boat cool and we all went to sleep early. It’s one thing we love about our lifestyle. We are active enough to feel tired by the time it’s dark and we wake up early with the sunlight. The next day we all felt rested enough for a sail.

We were excited to share a special spot in San Blas that we named Emoji Island, for its resemblance to this emoji: 🏝️. This small island, just south of Isla Verde where we anchored, is not only adorable, but the snorkeling around it is particularly sweet, as it’s surrounded by a shallow reef to the north and the west. We’ve seen schools of squid flying in perfect formation, reef fish in ultramarine blue and florescent yellow, octopi, and of course many types of soft coral, anemones, and sea fans. Kyra saw the large ray that lives around there, and no one got out of the water feeling disappointed with what they had seen. Afterwards, our reward was a walk on the island in the soft, white sand before heading back to the boat to start preparing dinner.

After a couple of wonderful days, we enjoyed a downwind sail back to Salardup where Kyra would be picked up first to take her back to Panamá City early the next morning. It was surprising how fast the time flew! But first, one last dinghy ride around the anchorage with the hopes of catching a fish for dinner!

After Kyra left, we got to spend a couple of extra days with Jodi which was sweet. We took her fishing which was funny as she really doesn’t like to kill anything. Luckily she caught a skipjack which we let go since they aren’t very tasty. Jodi spent the rest of her time playing in the water, jumping off the bow and swimming to the back of the boat to get out, just to walk back up to the bow to jump off again. She couldn’t get enough until it was time to get out of the water because the sun was going down. It was cute to see her playing like she was a kid again.

It’s not often that we get visitors on Salacia. When we do it’s really special and we love the opportunity to share what it’s like living on a boat in a beautiful country unlike any where else we’ve been.

San Blas was the most special part of our journey. It was remote, wild and peaceful. The Guna are very friendly and welcoming, with a long tradition of trade with visiting sailors, coming out every week to bring us fish, local lobster, vegetables, and even deliveries from the mainland. For such a remote place, it’s one of the easiest cruising grounds to spend time in, since with their support, we didn’t have to search for stores and spend time buying groceries. We even had our new sails delivered to us there.

Once we arrived, sailing around the islands was easy, and there are plenty of islands to visit, with some three hundred forming the archipelago, across the inner, outer, and middle reefs. Climate change is definitely having an impact here though, since many of these islands only stand a foot or two above sea level. With the mean sea level rising, you can definitely see some islands eroding. They’ve even had to relocate whole towns from the islands to the mainland to avoid the encroaching waters. It makes me feel sad for the Guna who rely so heavily on nature to survive. Then again, don’t we all.

Once our guests left, we had a short time remaining in San Blas, and as with every departure, there is a period of increased appreciation of where you are. Even though we’re sad to be leaving, we’re looking forward to new adventures, while handling the uneasy anticipation of challenges soon to be faced. After four months cruising the San Blas archipelago, we would now be setting out to sail from Panamá, against the trade winds and the massive waves they produce, along the northern coast of South America, into the islands of the eastern Caribbean. Stay tuned to hear about our challenging upwind passage to Colombia, against the strong currents and into the waves.

We hope while you’re reading this, you’re thinking, “Hey! I’d like to come visit too!” If that’s the case, then reach out and let us know. We love to have visitors, and we love to hear from our readers, both our friends and family, and our newer subscribers. Thank you for keeping up with our adventures!

The sunsets in San Blas continue their light shows and every one of them is unique because there are many clouds in the tropics, and with the trade winds constantly blowing across the Atlantic, the shapes keep morphing and changing. Add the sun light moving across the sky, and we experience new performances of color and shadow every day. Sometimes we have a week of consistent weather but the trades bring the rain, clouds, and a variety of sea states. The many changes keep cruising life interesting, but they can also create uncomfortable circumstances. We are more vulnerable to the weather living on the water compared to living on land, which forces us to be acutely aware of the forecasts so we can adjust to more comfortable positions when needed. It’s not always possible.

For example, it’s hard to make plans to meet friends at a specific place and time in the future when you need to shift your location, sometimes with only a day of notice. Even so, we planned to meet up with a group of friends at an island on the east side of the archipelago called Coco Banderas when they were due to arrive in San Blas. It’s more exposed there because it’s located close to the outer rim of the archipelago where the sometimes massive waves driven by the relentless trades pound on the reef, but it’s one of the most beautiful spots when the weather is calm.

As soon as we anchored, the winds picked up with rain and a rougher sea state emerged that lasted a few days. We weren’t expecting this and it didn’t accommodate hanging out on the beach or going for a swim. So we all hunkered down inside our boats until the conditions improved. While it can feel confining, it can also be very snug and cozy down below, and we’ve learned to roll with it since we don’t really have a choice, and since we can count on a change happening sooner than later. On the bright side, we have become more in tune to the ever changing rhythms of mother nature. There are more highs and lows but each low makes us appreciate the next high.

When the winds and rain moved on, it was time to come out of our boats and explore the beauty surrounding us. Our friends just arrived in San Blas after transiting the canal and spending some time in Bocas del Toro, Panama. We hadn’t seen many of them since Mexico or Costa Rica which was almost a year before. It was going to be quite a reunion and we were all looking forward to being together again. We were delighted too for some calm, sunny days in this beautiful location.

Since we were already there during the stormy weather, we had most of the anchorage to ourselves, so we were able to anchor all of our boats stern first to the main island. It enabled us to walk or swim to the beach. It was our temporary neighborhood and we all chipped in to make it happen.

There were six boats. You can see Salacia at the front end, then Wanderer, Jubel, Rochambeau, XFactor and Via. We put up a couple sun shades for us all to hang out under and share meals together on the beach. We were very excited to see everyone again and we had lots of catching up to do.

So we pulled up some chairs and hung out with our feet in the warm sand and not a care in the world. We made it to San Blas, one of the most desirable cruising grounds in the world and we celebrated this milestone with a posse of friends we happened to meet along the way. With the sunny calm weather, our group of friends, and this beautiful spot, we knew it just doesn’t get much better than this.

Then all of a sudden while Beverly and I stood talking under the shade of some palm trees, I started to hear a low crackling sound. My nervous system lit up, alerting me to flee from where I was standing and away from the sound of danger. I ran in whatever direction felt right in my body and seconds later, the trunk of the palm tree splintered on the sand and shook the ground beneath us. Beverly and I looked at each other in disbelief of being that close to getting seriously hurt!

The incident created a sea of excitement all around us. We were already lit up from our reunion and then in an instant that high could have reversed to the lowest of lows. We were in a remote area of the world, a day away from any major medical facility to get emergency treatment. It reminded us of how vulnerable we were if something did go wrong. Once the intensity of the moment wore off, we realized we had even more reason to celebrate, that we survived to live another day!

All of us being pretty much the same age, exploring the world on sailboats, we had a lot in common even though we all came from different backgrounds. Most of us met in Mexico as we were sailing beyond where most sailors we met sailed.

All of us originally left from some place on the West Coast of the US. Jubel came from Victoria, Canada, Wanderer and Via from Seattle, XFactor and Rochambeau from Los Angeles, and Salacia from San Francisco. Among our group one is originally from South Africa, one from the Netherlands, two from Canada, four originally from Boston, New York City, or Philadelphia, two from Kansas City and one from Los Angeles.

Sometimes traveling feels isolating because we are moving at a pace away from others and especially the communities we left behind. We all left Mexico at different times, some of us stopping in El Salvador or Nicaragua, others in Costa Rica and Panama. We all love our independence and we each have different interests in the places we want to explore or a different sense of timing in the places we want to visit. We respect our differences because what bonds us is our passion for traveling by sea.

Now we were soaking up this feeling of being in community again. We shared resources when in need of boat parts or knowledge about different boat systems, yoga on the beach, snorkeling, paddle boarding, wing foiling or simple walks and talks on the islands.

We also were on the look out for each other when the weather turned more intense. There were lots of charter boats who were commonly known for dragging their anchors in the middle of the night because they didn’t set them right. As soon as we heard of someone dragging, no matter what time of day or night members of our group went out in their dinghies to prevent boats from crashing into each other.

As the sun began to set we all noticed the full moon rising which gave us another reason to gather. In fact, the last time we were together in Mexico was during a full moon and we all reminisced about how we saw baby turtles using the moon light to find the ocean for the first time!

Given how everything came together so perfectly for us on this beautiful remote island, we wanted to honor our good fortune with a fire, under the huge galaxy of stars and the brightest moon light.

As we stood around the fire, swaying to the rhythm of the music, I reflected on how grateful I felt for coming through the ups and downs of our journey and the reward of feeling connected to what seemed much bigger than me. This community, the stars, the moon, the earth and the ocean. Whatever it was, it felt like all I really needed was to trust in how everything will unfold as perfectly as it does.

Soon the weather began to change again which was encouraging us to move on to a more protected anchorage. After an incredible few days, we all picked up and sailed across to the opposite side of the islands. This next anchorage was called Esnadup and it had a big bay where we could paddle board and wing foil. The water was calm from the protection of the islands and the view of the sky from the weather was amazing.

There was definitely more vegetation on these islands which shielded us from the higher winds but we were exposed to more no-see-ums, which are tiny flies that bite and leave a rash on the skin that itches way more than mosquito bites. Peter and I did not experience them there, but others who have dogs did because the no-see-ums followed them back to their boats. They ended up being bitten by these critters all night long. These were the unfortunate trade offs sometimes, but we learn to roll with the punches and be grateful for the positive circumstances we were encountering at the same time.

Cruising in the San Blas Islands is special because the reef surrounding the islands protects us from the rougher seas of the Atlantic, enabling us to let our guards down, move about more freely and take more time to play and relax. The extreme highs and lows had a chance to settle down a bit too with the added protection of the Guna people and each other.

Sailing the world definitely has its ups and downs like life on land, but what’s different is that they can be more extreme. I think our exposure to the constant movement of water and weather and sea states encourages us to cope, adapt and move with these varying forces of nature.

Nature’s beauty is intoxicating at times. During the ups, my whole body feels like it’s smiling and overflowing with joy at the freedom to let go and play. The opposite happens when the conditions are rough, and we don’t sleep on a passage, or we get sea sick, when we come across unexpected boat issues, or other boats dragging in the middle of the night, or when we feel lonely from not seeing family or friends for a while. I’ve learned over time how the lows help me to appreciate the highs that much more. Both, help me to be patient and trust that the path will continue to flow naturally like the waves of the ocean.

Stay tuned for more adventures in San Blas on our enchanted voyage.

The San Blas Islands are an archipelago of about 365 islands just off the northern coast of Panama in the Caribbean sea surrounded by reef. The islands are part of the Comarca Guna Yala, an autonomous zone governed by the Guna people, who have their own indigenous language which predates the Colombian invasion, along with fascinating history, culture, and customs.

Before Panama succeeded from Colombia in 1903, the Guna Yala were nominally part of Colombia, but the Colombian government left them to their own devices, to manage their affairs as they saw fit.

After the US-supported secession from Colombia in 1903, the new Panamanian government tried to assimilate them into the national mainstream Spanish-speaking culture in the country. The Guna Yala felt that this assimilation threatened their culture and customs, and resisted, until in February of 1925, they revolted, and fought back against the Panamanian government armed with only bows and arrows. After a brief struggle, they won, supported by the remote and rugged nature of their land, which remains as one of the last jungles in Central America which has not been penetrated by man.

Today, they are an interesting example of an indigenous tribe that holds tenaciously to their language, culture, and customs, while simultaneously being open to trade and exchange with visitors from outside the Comarca. We met a number of them on the water and enjoyed getting to know each of them and their unique culture.

We arrived early in the season, so there were fewer boats and the weather was mostly beautiful, with occasional high wind and scattered showers. After stopping in the East Hollandes to meet up with Mike, Taylor, Lucy, and Penny on Vīa, we headed over to Coca Banderas, a stereotypically tropical island, tiny, nestled into a wide swath of reef to protect it from the Caribbean swell rolling in from the east.

We instantly fell in love with the crystal clear water, white sandy beaches and plentiful sea life. As soon as we dropped anchor we were welcomed by a twelve foot nurse shark! I was at the helm and I saw her swim past our boat only to quickly turn around and swim back towards us! It was amazing to see her being as curious of us as we were of her!

We decided to move our boat from where we spotted the nurse shark to anchor where there was more room to swing. We weren’t afraid of the shark because Nurse sharks are bottom dwellers and mostly harmless to humans. The islands were further away but we loved the views! We immediately jumped into the water to swim around our boat and delight in the beauty of it’s clarity.

Eventually, the weather was forecast to change, and since Coco Banderas was so exposed, we moved to a more protected island called Isla Verde. Being as remote as they were, we never had any visitors out at Coco Banderas, but once we moved, we were welcomed by a fisherman who sold us a few lobsters. Over the coming days, we had several visitors, sometimes paddling up in traditional dugout canoes, and other times in fiberglass pangas with outboards.

Our view of the neighborhood!

The Guna are famous for their molas, bright and colorful textiles sewn with appliqué and reverse appliqué. Regular embroidery uses thread to stitch out the design. Applique embroidery uses fabric to fill the design and finishes the edge with a finishing stitch. Reverse appliqué layers fabric of different colors, cutting holes through the top layers to reveal the colors underneath, and then stitching all the edges.

There is also a Guna tradition for selling their molas. They first present each one to us with a lot of detail until all of them have been seen before they present each one again more quickly for us to decide which ones we wanted. A lot of the designs are meaningful, for example cacao is their revered plant medicine. They believe digesting it daily helps them to live a long and healthy life, and they burn it for the smoke, as well. The molas always exuded a faint aroma of cacao smoke as we went through them.

We experienced many visits by the Guna people to our boat to sell us molas, fish or vegetables and fruit. We were always delighted to talk to them, and trade with them. The video below is of a Guna man sailing his canoe past our boat. There’s something very elegant in its simplicity.

Emoji island was just south of Isla Verde where we were anchored. The snorkeling around the island was superb. We saw big sting rays, turtles and all kinds of colorful fish.

We also just loved hanging out and relaxing on the island, taking in the expansive vistas all around us. We visited it often since it was such a sweet little gem.

Florenilka was one of the Guna who often stopped by our boat. We’d invite her and her companions onto the boat for coffee. She had a wonderful sense of humor, and turned her molas into clothes and bags. I love this bag and I use it often! We learned a lot about their customs and traditions from her and her friends. They have their own unique language but they also spoke Spanish. The community is matriarchal. Yes, the women are the leaders and everyone feels heard and taken care of. I felt safe overall living in San Blas.

The woman in the above photo and in the video below was making a bracelet and an anklet for me through a special criss-cross technique that created little knots in the string to hold the beads together. I wore these until I arrived in Cartagena. You can see all the bracelets the women wear that create “sleeves” for their arms and ankles.

Eventually, we decided to sail back up to the Hollandes again to meet up with Kyle and Leah on Jubel! They were arriving from Bocas del Toro and we were all super excited to reunite with them. Below is a video of our sail over with Taylor and Mike on Via.

It wasn't easy navigating to get inside the small anchorage. It was very shallow, being only a few feet deeper than our keel, so we crept inside of it very slowly. Since we didn’t have a beach or island to explore there, we decided to move to Banadup Island after a couple of days which was very close, providing us with more protection from the large waves of the Atlantic ocean, as well as bit of shelter from the relentless wind.

We really enjoyed the beginning of our time in San Blas where we were the only few boats around in such a remote setting, gazing up at the stars at night or across the expansive sunlit sea by day. It was finally an opportunity for us to rest on our laurels and enjoy our time in nature. No big passages to prepare for, no boat work, just living freely.

The rest of our time in San Blas we caught up with the larger group of cruisers we met sailing down the coast of Mexico into Costa Rica. We also had special guests visiting us for a while! Stay tuned for more exciting adventures on Enchanted Voyage!

I was sitting on our floating home in a calm anchorage of Guadaloupe, looking out over the calm sea as the sun began to set when I learned that my dear brother Jack passed away at 4:50 pm, ending his eight year fight against cancer. The finality made my heart sink. The next morning I woke up realizing how he passed on the eve of the spring equinox, the official beginning to spring.

My brother loved to garden. It was one of his passions in life and I loved watching him make our gardens at the lake so beautiful. It was in service to everyone who came to visit our home. It made us all smile as we looked out the kitchen window at the beautiful blooming flowers and it created a home.

Jack was someone who taught me how I didn’t have to pay attention to rules. I was four years younger, but we were both middle children, so it was easy for us to be invisible. He taught me how to get away with what I really wanted. To follow my spirit of adventure. To throw caution to the wind and sail into the unknown. To not always do what I was told in life but to listen to my heart, my passion, and my joy.

We were raised in a Catholic family and it would have been easy for me to grow up being “miss goody two shoes.” Jack helped me to see how breaking the rules was really just going outside the box, outside the family, the familiar. Over time I learned how doing so was a way for my soul to experience life more fully. To move into the unknown with curiosity and grace.

Jack loved having a tribe. He loved including dogs in his tribe who demonstrated loyalty with unconditional love and affection. He created a beautiful family with his wife Karen and they were all so close.

Jack was someone who didn’t let himself fall into the dysfunctional patterns of our family. He was a peacemaker at heart. He told me how much he recoiled when witnessing any of us arguing. He hated it and demonstrated true love to me in the safety of his warm hugs and affection. Every now and then he would come up to me from behind and start rubbing my shoulders. Kneading the tight knots free! Helping me to let go more, to live and breathe more freely and enjoy life.

Jack was a lover of music and dance! I looked to him for what was cool and hip. When I was old enough, he took me out dancing in New York City. He turned me on to New Wave music with the Talking Heads, David Bowie, Depeche Mode, and Bryan Ferry. Any chance he got, he wanted to play a new band he just discovered for me. He loved music and was really a connoisseur of progressive music.

Thank you Jack! You will forever remain an example of someone who doesn’t shy away from taking risks for the sake of living more fully with laughter, adventure, freedom, play, love and joy .

One of the biggest headaches for us was our refrigeration system. Constantly carrying seawater through the refrigeration compressors, the associated plumbing had a tendency to grow barnacles, mussels, and oysters — on the inside. On a long passage across the Sea of Cortez, our refrigeration shut down completely and we had to throw out most of the food we just bought to last us a couple of months! Peter installed a new system to instead cool the compressors with bronze heat exchangers, called keel coolers, on the outside of the hull. No more pulling two and three inch long oysters out of one-inch diameter hoses!

After the work was completed, it was finally time to leave the shelter of the marina and head out on the Caribbean sea to the remote San Blas archipelago, which we were super excited to explore. We generally take our time leaving because our boat is faster than most others, so our friends Taylor and Mike on Via were ahead of us by a few hours.

We had just received clearance from the authorities to cross the main shipping channel in and out of the Panama canal, when I noticed water coming up through the grate in the cabin sole below the companionway. Concerned that we were having a problem with our lower rudder bearing again, Peter went to investigate, only to find the water coming through the “dripless” propellor shaft seal, and coming in very fast!

So we quickly turned around to cross the channel again, and while Peter alerted the authorities about our situation, I used the massive manual bilge pump to pump out the water. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working as well it should have, but it was still able to keep up. Due to where the water was entering, though, I had to go back and forth from this pump to the one that drained the bilge near the engine, where the dripless seal was leaking. Luckily I had a lot of adrenaline to energize me to keep pumping all the way back to the marina.

Once we got back, the manager of the boat yard met us at our slip with a heavy duty electric pump designed to move the water out fast. He then arranged for an emergency haul out and within 30 minutes we were out of the water. Phew, that was a close call! Luckily we were only 90 minutes away from the marina when we discovered the issue!

Since we were out of the water, and needed to pull the propellor shaft to resurface the propellor shaft seal, Peter decided to replace the cutlass bearing as well, all of which happened in record time — roughly 48 hours on the hard.

Even so, the seal face needed resurfacing, which required a machine shop with a lathe. The only such shop nearby was in Colon, but luckily one of the yard workers drove Peter over to get the work done, and to help him navigate getting around the protest barricades through the more dangerous parts of the city. Somehow, machine shops never seem to be in the tourist meccas!

The protests were happening all over Panama for months, due to the government renewing a lease for a large copper mine, despite being prohibited by law. In the end, the protesters won, the law was upheld, and the copper mine lease extension was revoked. It was exciting to watch the Panamanian people effect real political change through peaceful, non-violent protest! In the meantime though, the major thoroughfares in the country were blocked with burning tires and barricades.

One of these barricades had been down the street from the machine shop, several blocks at least, and we had driven the long way around to get where we needed to go. As we exited the shop, people were running down the street towards us from the barricades, amidst floating clouds of white tear gas that had been fired to break up the protest. We went back the way we came, and never got very close to the mayhem, with a shiny new sealing surface in hand. The adventure continues!

Once everything was buttoned up and ready to go, and the thunderstorms passed by, we finally got underway for San Blas!

Unfortunately, our trip was soon to be cut short again. Nearly half way to San Blas, we were again taking on water, this time truly from the rudder bearing seal.

We decided to stop at a place called Linton Bay, where we were able to get a quick haul out at the end of the next day, and drop the rudder so Peter could service the lower bearing seals. The yard agreed to leave us in the slings overnight, and just put us straight back in the water the next day, with nice, clean sealing surfaces to keep the water on the wet side of the hull.

This made three haul outs for us in under two months - one for the refrigeration, one for the propellor shaft seal and cutlass bearing, and the third for the rudder lower bearing. We would have loved to have done it all during the first haul out, but Neptune had other plans for us, and we were just glad that we were able to do everything quickly and efficiently, and with a fairly reasonable cost, since Peter did most of the work himself. We have learned and are still learning as we continue our voyage into the unknown, to let go of our expectations and trust how life has a way of working out.

We made it to this beautiful set of islands! It was a nice time to be there as it was still before the season officially started and the anchorages were mostly empty. We enjoyed the peace and quiet while it lasted.

Our next post is all about our stay inside these gorgeous, remote islands with a whole community of sailors we met along the way. Luckily, we didn’t have any more major maintenance needed until reaching Cartagena.

Please continue to join us on our journey!

We made it through the Panama canal and we were taking some time to catch up with ourselves before attending a friend’s wedding back in the States. We accomplished a lot on our journey so far and we felt we earned the right to relax at the marina, swimming in the pool or going on walks inside the jungle surrounding the marina. It was time spent chilling while our boat was tied to the dock and that was a great feeling after sailing over 5000 nautical miles. We spent this time slowing down a little and reflecting on all the places we sailed to and what was still to come.

One of our walks took us away from the marina towards the water that faced the canal. We were innocently meandering around the area when a man approached us dressed in a military uniform, animately telling us in a raised voice that we were trespassing and we needed to leave immediately, and began escorting us away from the area. Peter attempted to get him to smile while we were walking together and he seemed to soften a tad. We had no idea how we found ourselves in the middle of a secret military training ground for fighting against the cartel, but I guess life continues to be an adventure!

Every day some cruisers hop on a shuttle to go shopping in Colon for the morning. The marina organizes this shuttle service, enabling us to get to a grocery store since none of us have cars, plus it ensures our safety since Colon can be a dangerous city. Each trip on the shuttle had us meeting other sailors who were out in the world doing something similar, which made for some interesting conversations. Sailors were either crossing over to the Pacific side or the Atlantic side which created a great opening for: “Which direction are you headed? South Pacific or the Caribbean or Mexico? And what are your long-term plans?”

Around the time of Peter’s birthday, and after mine, we decided to rent a car to drive seven hours to the mountains to a town called Boquete. We rented a house that friends recommended. We were looking forward to experiencing mountain life as a change from living at sea level. The Airbnb was a whole house with a huge balcony and a very large kitchen and we couldn’t wait to cook in it!

When we weren’t hanging out on our balcony, we went into town. We came upon a local brewery where we had lunch and sampled some of their very tasty beers. We listened to rain falling heavily outside and passed the time listening to the music they were playing on their stereo. It was a fun place to hang out until the rain stopped.

It rained most of the time we were in Boquete but we spent time hanging out on our porch sitting or reading or just looking out at the view and taking in the smells the rain kicked up. It was very sweet, especially listening to the rain hitting the tin roof.

We spent a day hiking up in the mountains. This trail took us to the city water shed that provided water to everyone in the region. There were water falls and streams and you can see the actual pipes they used to transport the water. There’s lots of fresh water in Panama since it rains all the time.

This cute kitten greeted us on our path and Peter couldn’t resist picking it up to say hello. I love this video of Peter. The kitten lived with a family who had a home next to the entrance of the hiking trail. After Peter let go of holding the kitten, he ran towards the woman who came out of the house to greet us.

Below is also a video of the many wild parrots who would perch in the tree next to the balcony of the house we rented. They were eating the nuts of the tree which was such a delight to watch.

I woke up early on Peter’s birthday to make us a big breakfast before we packed up our bags to drive back to the marina. It was going to be a long ride and we wanted to be sure we didn’t have to stop too often. We came across an Italian restaurant that we couldn’t resist for a birthday dinner. It was too bad we were driving that day, but we were used to being on the move and a road trip is fun for seeing all the sights. What wasn’t fun was being stopped by a police officer on our way. Not sure how fast Peter was driving but as soon as he saw Peter’s driver’s license showing his birthday, the officer let us off the hook! Not a bad birthday gift!

Our next post will be after we travel back to the States to see friends in San Francisco and up North for a wedding of our dear friends Tracy and Daniella. It was an amazing wedding and we loved seeing a lot of our friends in one place! Then we flew to Oregon to see another best friend, Elinor, who just bought a house in Portland. Below are a few pictures from our travels.

Next time we will share about how our boat took on water while sailing to the San Blas Islands, forcing us to return to port for an emergency haul out. Stay tuned for more exciting times on the Enchanted Voyage!

How many people get to experience transiting the Panama canal in their own private boat? I don’t know the answer to that question but my guess is it’s a small percentage of the world population. It was one of the most memorable parts of our voyage since we left San Francisco not because it was nerve wracking, which it was at first, but because it literally transported us from one major ocean to another, through an ingenious system of locks and water propulsion that enabled us to cross the isthmus of Panama within 24 hours.

People visiting Panama City can see the canal at the Miraflores Visitor Center. We went there to check it out for ourselves and it was interesting to see how it looks gazing down from above. What a great chance to learn more of what to expect! We were hoping to see a ship passing through the canal while we were there, but our timing was unfortunately off.

We didn’t have long to wait though, before our time to cross the canal arrived. We had spent a long time waiting, with several delays, and we were more than ready. Every small boat crossing the canal is assigned an advisor, and unfortunately, the number of available advisors was fairly limited at the time we crossed. When our time came, after confirming with Flamenco control, we headed out to await the arrival of our advisor near a specified channel buoy.

When he arrived, we learned that he would be the one directing all three boats in our flotilla, and our boat would be the one that would be doing most of the line handling work. We would be positioned at the wall, with Jubel in the center, and Queso Grande (a catamaran) on the other side. Since we were against the wall, our line handlers had to continually adjust the length of the lines holding us to the wall as the water level rose.

On entry into the first lock, we had to catch the lines that were thrown down from the men at the top of the walls, and then securely attach them to our cleats. As the boat rose, we had to both keep the boat close to the wall, preventing the swirling currents from pushing our raft of three boats around, as well as keeping us off the wall, so we didn’t damage the boat. We were nervous about potential damage, probably because we hadn’t transited the canal before! Luckily, different combinations of power from all three boats helped to control the raft as well.

To cross, each boat must have four, one-inch thick, one-hundred-foot long mooring lines, eight large fenders (some people use old tires, but they leave black marks), as well as suitable cleats to attach and work the lines. To provide these necessaries, and to ease the concomitant flood of paperwork, we hired an agent. As our time approached, Roger coordinated with the canal authority to schedule our passage, and connected us to a local gentleman named Tito who would serve as one of our four line handlers. We also invited along our friends Sam and Keegan from San Francisco, and our friend Mike from SV Via whom we met with his wife, Taylor, in the Sea of Cortez way back when.

Tito is from Colon. He came aboard as a line handler for our canal crossing. He is a jolly soul, medium build, short cropped hair, with crow’s feet around his eyes that deepen with his ready smile. The day Tito arrived was the day following the murder of his son. Tito has many children: he adopts the young men of Colon and helps them find a way through life that doesn’t involve the gangs and killing rampant in Colon.

With a murder rate of 25.7 per 100,000, Colon doesn’t even make the top 50 most violent cities worldwide, and falls far short of, for instance, New Orleans, which has the highest murder rate in the US at 70.56 per 100,000, at least according to the latest statistics posted to Wikipedia1. The most common method used in Colon though is chilling: young men walk up to their victims on the sidewalk and simply shoot them in the face without warning, just to loot the body. This is exactly what happened to Tito’s son the night before. It was the fifth time this happened to one of his kids. At this time of our crossing, Tito had fourteen children he was mentoring.

Tito has been working on the canal for many years, and as a line handler for the last fifteen. Tito’s grandfatherly presence was respected by all the canal personnel on our boat, as well as those around us on others. Tito was in his late fifties or early sixties, while the canal advisors tended to be younger, sometimes much younger, from mid-twenties into early forties.

The video is when we initially tied up to the wall after they threw us the lines and the advisor was yelling to Mike and Keegan to either tighten or slacken the lines more or less. This was all in preparation for the water that would begin flowing in from Gatun Lake to take us up the wall and up the land to the next set of locks. The ropes had to be at the right tension to withstand the force of the water turbulence that was created as it lifted us.

The Panama Canal has six locks that lift and lower ships between the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. Each lock provides an increase or decrease in elevation, depending on which direction you’re going. The two Miraflores Locks are located on the Pacific side, connecting via a short lake to the Pedro Lock, which provides the third step up to the Culebra Cut, the most difficult part of the canal to construct. The Culebra Cut is a deep channel cut through the spine of the mountain, into Gatun Lake, from where the Gatun Locks descend to the Atlantic through three locks.

Each lock is actually two locks side by side, like lanes on a highway. This allows ships to pass in opposite directions at the same time, but in practice, ships move in one direction at a time for safety reasons.2

As we were transiting the canal, occasionally (and more often than you might think), some question would arise between the advisors on each of the boats of our little raft, and they would need to confer to sort out some disagreement in how to approach the problem at hand.

These disagreements probably stemmed mainly from a power struggle between the various advisors on the different boats. Each boat would have a single advisor, but between them they would need to select an Uber-advisor, one advisor to rule them all.

In these instances, Tito would often quietly pull one of the others aside, and privately make a few comments, without any fanfare, and without taking any credit. After one of these conversations, we would often find that suddenly the way forward would be clear to all.

The doors closed and the waters began lifting us up. We learned on our visit to the Miraflores Center that the locks are unique to the Panama Canal and are considered a structural triumph. It was really awesome to see and feel the power of the twenty six million gallons of water pouring in from Lake Gatun to lift us up to the level of the land. Of course, since that’s a lot of water to lift a few little sailboats, the sailboats are always tucked into the locks with a massive ship.

We saw an armadillo grazing on the grass next to the first set of locks. What a strange sight and it reminded us that there was still life happening outside in the natural world and beyond this all consuming, man-made event!

This video shows the turbulence of the water as it rises us up the wall! The lock chambers are 110 by 1,000 feet and can fill with water in eight minutes.

It was a sad and surreal moment, as the first set of locks closed behind us, shutting us off from the Pacific Ocean with a rush of memories of our time on the Pacific, and especially our time living in San Francisco for 25 years with friends, old and new.

We headed out away from the first set of locks after separating from our buddy boats and started motoring inside Gatun Lake. It was going to be a long trip and Peter told me it was time to make everyone dinner. Peter and I bought all the ingredients for a chicken curry noodle dish. What a project it ended up being while moving pretty fast across the water after a long day! We fed everyone on the boat which included three large male professionals plus five crew members.

We had a lot of chicken to cook which was very cold. Sam and I started cutting it up and cooking it separately from the vegetables which we chopped up. After we cooked everything we still needed to make the curry sauce and cook the noodles!

Sam was so much fun to work with since she was really good at figuring out the right spice ratio under pressure and kept me grounded from feeling too overwhelmed with her sense of humor. Everyone was hungry and could smell what we were cooking which was taking a while. We wanted to make something hot and yummy since it was a long day and it would show our appreciation for all the help. I think it was 9 pm when we got to finally put that dinner into our stomachs!

To our surprise, when we got closer to Gatun locks, we learned that the advisors wanted to get off the boat. It was too late to do the second round. So the five of us plus Tito went straight to sleep. The next morning I got up early to make coffee for everyone while putting a whole pound of bacon in the oven.

I think we waited until the middle of the afternoon before the next set of advisors came. We had no idea when they would arrive until the workboat approached to drop them off. which I guess is typical. It was raining off and on while everyone was chatting up a storm. I was pretty tired as I’m sure Peter was too. I went into the V-berth to find some quiet time for myself. It was a lot of work leading up to the transit and now being in a small space with many people, I needed a little time to decompress.

Leaving the Pacific was another major transition for us. It was also Rosh Hashanah which is a Jewish holiday for ushering in the new year and it would soon be my 60th birthday, ushering in a new decade! I felt the waters of the canal moving within me. I didn’t really understand my feelings at the time but physical change, like moving to a new house in a new city, or moving across the country, can feel pretty overwhelming. People often ask me what it’s like living on a boat and sailing to different places. The answer is that the highs are higher and the lows are lower than on land, and there are more of them! It’s no coincidence that we are experiencing the ocean swell every day and some days the waves can be pretty big.

When we left on our journey we envisioned sailing to far away destinations, but we didn’t really know what it would be like until we actually started on our way.

There are so many physical influences to our experiences in reality, for example, crossing over the isthmus of Panama. We were doing something on a boat that could not be done on its own accord. It took the genius of man to engineer the passage for us. Before the 19th century, boats had to sail 13,000 miles around the tip of South America to get to the Atlantic. Talk about change! Now ships only take about 8 hours to transit the canal, saving a lot of time, money and many lives, but it is still a huge undertaking.

Approaching Gatun Locks felt completely different from Miraflores Locks. It was much less intimidating and tiring, partly because we had more daylight and we knew what we were doing. The locks were also much more placid as we descended, since the water was flowing out from underneath us, rather than rushing in with swirling currents. I’m going to guess that it all made a difference and upon reflection it seems to me now that going uphill against gravity, while closing a major chapter in our lives, was harder than going downhill and opening a new chapter.

We were able to experience the moments as they each flowed in as the water flowed out. It all felt very smooth and easy.

A new beginning and so much to look forward to as we begin our next chapter of cruising life.

It was dark by the time we arrived to our slip in Shelter Bay Marina. We were excited to celebrate our big accomplishment and we were excited to see what the Atlantic and Caribbean had in store for us in the months ahead. Stay tuned as we take you on a trip to the mountains and rain forests of Panama before we sail off to the San Blas Islands.

We reached the end of the line on the Pacific, a major milestone on our journey so far. We can’t believe we sailed over five thousand nautical miles since we left San Francisco. Apparently, we’ve earned the right to get a “swallow” tattoo which is a tradition for sailors who sailed five thousand nautical miles. It also symbolizes returning home, given the swallow’s famous migration pattern. We didn’t get swallow tattoos, and maybe that’s because we haven’t returned home, at least not to San Francisco, but we have returned to city life and that was worth celebrating too.

Since leaving San Francisco, we sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge and turned left, down the coast of California, to Cabo, up through the Sea of Cortez and across to mainland Mexico where we stored our boat for hurricane season, and then back across the sea to Baja California and then we crossed again to Mazatlàn, before sailing down the long coast of Mexico, to Costa Rica and finally along the coast of Panama to Panama City.

On our journey, we met many different people, experienced a broad range of sea states, landscapes, tropical forests, and saw some amazing wildlife along the way. We visited mostly small towns and remote anchorages, and some of the most remote by far had been in the islands of Pacific Panama. We loved being away from civilization in nature but after a solid four months on the hook, we were looking forward to spending time in a major city again.

It took us about two years to get to Panama City from San Francisco, only moving at roughly seven knots (about eight miles per hour) when underway, teaching us to slow down and take our time in life which we appreciated, but after so long, we were craving a faster pace again for at least a short while.

On our arrival we immediately pulled into Flamenco marina. Flamenco is a large marina, in fact, the largest marina in Panama. Our slip was just inside the entrance by the sea, but would be nearly a quarter mile walk down the dock to get to land. Needless to say it was a lot of walking which is probably a good thing after sitting for so long on passages.

After just a day or two in the marina, the dock pilings were really striking! More accurately, the way the twenty foot tidal change would make the pilings appear and disappear over the course of a day really jumped out. At high tide, the pilings only stood about four feet above the tread of the docks. Over about four hours, the pilings slowly rose to tower some twenty six feet above the dock, where they stayed for about two hours before the floating dock rose to hide them again. The tidal change was very dramatic.

With our arrival in Panama City, access to the usual urban cornucopia of foods that are difficult to find in the hinterlands resulted in a certain amount of indulgence. Imported beer, wine, cheese, and charcuterie all found their way into our shopping bags. We made good use of them all while entertaining our friends on Salacia.

One night after hors d’oeuvres on Salacia with the crew of Via and Jubel, including Monsieur Richard, Jubel’s Shibu Inu, we went out to dinner. The next day we heard the story of M. Richard’s attempt to stow away aboard Salacia.

Upon returning to Jubel after dinner, Ricky who stayed home, was caught in flagrante delecto amidst all of the charcuterie wrappers, which had until then been in the trash. As Kyle and Leah were making their displeasure known to their furry miscreant, he decided that he didn’t have to submit himself to such undeserved reproof, and took himself up on deck, where he promptly hopped off the boat onto the dock, and walked himself down to Salacia’s berth. After hopping aboard, he slipped under the dodger to find a dark boat and closed companionway. We were still out. Yet Ricky’s displeasure was such that there he remained until Kyle and Leah discovered his escape and found his hiding place.

Of course, maybe if I hadn’t been slipping slices of prosciutto to poor Ricky under the table, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in trouble in the first place. The smell and taste of prosciutto has got to be worth a lot to a dog, especially after being in such remote places himself. Or maybe he was just lured by the meticulously prepared hors d’oeuvres he received often on Salacia. Only Ricky knows for sure, but to this day, Ricky was always excited to see us and obviously we were excited to see him too.

He’s got a quirky personality with attitude at times and he is also very sweet and mellow. His eye is missing due to glaucoma. Sometimes Leah and Kyle would put an eye patch on him like a pirate would wear, which suited his personality perfectly.

After much time at the marina, we decided to take a break from the boat to spend our much anticipated time exploring Panama City. We had heard a lot of great things about the historic quarter, also known as Casco Viejo, so we put that first on our itinerary. We wanted to share with you many of the pictures we took that day since we found this part of Panama City to be the most interesting and photogenic.

Panama City was founded in 1519 by the Spanish conquistador Pedro Arias Dávila, then attacked and looted by the British pirate Henry Morgan in 1661, and subsequently destroyed by fire. Two years later, the city was rebuilt and moved 5 miles southwest of the original city. This new location is now the old quarter of Panama City, one of the earliest-founded capital cities in the Americas. It was designated a World Heritage Site in 1997.

The city has a blend of Spanish, French and American colonial, art nouveau and neoclassical architecture which make it all feel very charming. The level of preservation of the 400-year-old buildings is remarkable. The brick-laid streets and iron balconies reminded us a little of New Orleans, and we enjoyed taking in the sights and sounds of city-life again. I see now why so many of our friends told us how much we would love Panama City.

We walked the different streets and plazas without an agenda. Sometimes we would step inside a boutique or two, or stop to pet a cat, or roam around looking for a museum. Most of the time we were just interested and curious where each of the streets would lead us. We enjoyed the variety of the city and the diversity of its people!

Most Panamanians identify as Roman Catholic, and there are seven churches in Casco Viejo. During Holy Week, Semana Santa, which is the week prior to Easter, many people make a pilgrimage to each church in order to pray for health and good fortune. Our travels didn’t lead us into the churches, though!

There were so many beautiful trees, flowers, and plants lighting up our senses in the warm humid air, that we simply enjoyed being in the tropical urban landscape rather than doing the normal touristy things. After spending so much time on the sea, we appreciated the beautiful parks and squares.

The heat and humidity often started to feel uncomfortable by mid-day, and with all of our walking, we needed to step inside to cool off for a bit. There was one museum we wanted to go into since we were going to transit the canal soon. The Museo de Canal was very beautiful inside and we learned a lot about the history of the Panama Canal which gave us a great introduction before going there to check out the actual site.

After the museum we were super hungry and got lucky because we walked past an American restaurant that served cheeseburgers, fries and milk shakes! We decided to eat there and they were super tasty but very filling, so after lunch we took a longer walk over to the water’s edge to see the modern skyline of Panama City. The sky in the afternoons always looked threatening. It was not often though, that a storm would hit. In fact, while we were staying at the marina, which is close to the canal, it didn’t rain at all.

The Panama Canal has been experiencing a drought since early 2023, with the driest conditions starting in late 2022, marking one of the most severe droughts in the Canal's history. This drought has significantly impacted water levels in Gatun Lake, the main water source for the canal operations. 

We really enjoyed our day exploring the old quarter of Panama City, taking pictures and meandering around the different streets, parks and plazas while popping into different boutiques. We loved experiencing the vibrancy of city life again and missed our beloved home of San Francisco, but we felt Panama City scored high in comparison.

After living on Salacia for so long, and traveling to different places, I’ve learned how home can also be a state of mind. I’ve learned to go with the flow of the unknown future and appreciate the here and now and looking back on our journey since we left San Francisco, I see how much I appreciate the similarities of places and people, but also the differences and how these differences give me a change of experience and perspective in life. I sometimes crave stillness, slowness, and routine, a break from the constant change that traveling brings. I guess home for me is when I find the balance and center between these different experiences, while I can, as we continue on our way.

As the sun began to set that day, we wanted to sit down to have a drink. We found a great roof-top bar with a view of the modern skyscrapers in the background. It was the perfect view with an upbeat vibe and we enjoyed our drinks while resting our tired feet. Later that night we found a pizza parlor with some dogs and cats to entertain us while we ate. They were either being taken care of by the restaurant owners or by the people eating at the restaurant. So everyone seemed happy.

This roof top bar is worth checking out in this video, especially by the end. We spontaneously found it while walking aimlessly around. We loved exploring Casco Viejo, getting a feel for the history of Panama City and how it sets against the modern landscape. It was the closest we would get to time travel.

The modern part of Panama City had more of a major city vibe with people moving quickly to get to work inside the skyscraper buildings or to stay inside the hotels and there were lots of shops and malls, a diverse choice of restaurants. We went out for Sushi one night and Korean Barbecue another night. That more modern part of Panama City reminded me of downtown San Francisco. The opening of the Panama Canal created a boom for the economy which Panama City has depended on for a long time. It’s no wonder it’s such a big, modern city today.

Our time enjoying the faster pace and culture of Panama City while catching up on boat projects was coming to an end and our canal transit was drawing near. We were excited to see our friends, Sam and Keegan, who flew in from San Francisco to assist us with the transit. Mike from Via and one professional line handler named Tito also ended up helping us. Below is a picture of us all hanging out onboard Salacia. We tied up at anchor next to Jubel while we waited for the officials to arrive. This picture shows all of our excitement in anticipation.

Stay tuned for our next post detailing our experience on board Salacia while transiting the Panama Canal. It was truly epic!

As soon as we pulled into Bahia Honda, a couple of men came to our boat to see if we would like to buy some of their vegetables and coconut water. We’re almost always interested in fresh fruit and vegetables, since these are the hardest for us to store for very long, so we were happy to stock up. We also pulled together a bag of clothes and shoes for them to share within their community.

Bahia Honda is extremely remote, mainly because it is nestled at the end of a large peninsula, with the nearest highway about fifteen miles away across jungle covered mountains. The only road on the peninsula is a dirt track which winds through the jungle on the other side of the mountains, and all supplies are delivered by boat from the small town at the end of the road, some miles up the coast.

There are a few families who have lived in this bay for a very long time. We met the eldest of one family as we were anchored in his anchorage properly named after him. His name is Domingo and he came over with his son-in-law who invited us for a hike and then over for dinner that night. Peter went on the hike while I baked a cake and we brought over some of our best Italian wine.

Domingo’s daughter and her husband are talking with Peter about the differences in making arroz con leche and arroz con coco in the below video. Both are traditional deserts.

Domingo’s natural son is named Kennedy. He and his wife invited Kyle and Leah to their house for dinner that same evening we were invited by Domingo. Kyle and Leah discovered that Kennedy was estranged from his family but he didn’t say why. As a result he was very poor and was having a hard time managing to live on so little. Unfortunately, we had already given our extra clothes to Kennedy’s sister to distribute to whomever she thought needed them. We felt sad that we didn’t know about Kennedy’s situation until afterwards.

We did what we could for Kennedy. His generator needed a new battery, and we told our friends Michelle and Joe who were up the coast in Boca Chica to see if they could bring a new one down for him. This community does rely on the income produced by selling fruits, vegetables, and handicrafts to the steady stream of cruisers passing through. They said fewer sailboats were stopping in because many weren’t going to Coiba National Park any longer due to a recent increase in park fees. Since we’re members of an online group of Panama-bound cruisers, we sent a list of items like notebooks, pens, clothes, shoes, and household items the families needed, especially Kennedy and his wife.

As soon as the weather improved we left for Coiba National Park. The islands were surrounded by beautiful clear blue water. We dropped anchor on our way to the main island and decided to talk a walk.

We could hear people’s voices from the direction of the jungle on the island. A man came out from the jungle to the beach. Peter approached him and the man explained in Spanish that he worked for the research station on the other side of the island, run by the Smithsonian Institute. He also warned us not to come onto the island or into the water at night due to crocodiles. We made sure to listen to him!

The next day we stopped at the ranger station on the main island of Coiba to pay the park entry fee. We had heard stories of a fourteen foot crocodile named Tito who lived close to the ranger station. Tito was popular amongst the tourists, who would take selfies with him to post on Instagram. We had heard he was always there, and asked about him, only to find out that just about a week before we arrived, Tito decided to bite one of the park rangers who had gone for a swim, who then bled out and died. It was a shock to everyone as I think they had all gotten very comfortable with the crocodile but it just goes to show that crocodiles are not pets. Tito hadn’t been seen since.

We had been enjoying a break in the lightning storms and rain, but it was time to move along. The intensity of frequency of the lightning, coupled with the extreme proximity of some of the strikes to the boat were making us nervous, especially in light of how extremely remote our location was. With hundreds of nautical miles to the nearest haul out facility, we didn’t relish the possibility of sailing without any electronic aids to navigation in case of a damaging strike. So we set off early the next morning. The following pictures are of various islands along our way.

But first, we had to stop at the hot springs on Coiba. Accessible from an anchorage several miles south of the ranger station, the path to the spring was a short walk from shore. Unfortunately the tide had gone out which meant we had to leave the dinghies anchored quite a ways out, and wade the rest of the way in mud.

A short video below of the end of a whale sighting on our way back to our boats!

Finally, we had an advantageous weather window to round the famously treacherous Punta Mala on our way to Panama City. Punta Mala, or Point Evil, is a major cape separating the Gulf of Panama from the rest of the Pacific coast of Panama, and an acceleration zone for winds and currents. Our passage however happened during a season of more favorable currents and winds, and we chose our window wisely.

Before leaving for Panama City though, we had one last anchorage, the last before rounding the point, to rest up in before the longer voyage.

In the afternoon after arriving, we saw hundreds of butterflies flying past our boat. They were so beautiful and they were clearly on a mission to go somewhere. Below is a video Kyle took from his boat. You can see a few butterflies traveling past in the video, but there were hundreds to thousands of them! We are not sure what their mission was but they were all flying in the same direction. Maybe they were pointing the way for us, and encouraging us to fly along as well.

It was our last time at anchor in the Pacific ocean. It was sad to leave this beautiful blue pacific water, especially in such a remote and pristine part of the natural world. It was another ending which we were learning to accept as continuous part of the cruising experience. With each ending comes a new beginning and we were also excited to explore Panama city which was going to be very different from where we had been spending our time lately! When we left Costa Rica we thought we were leaving the most beautiful country of our tour so far but the Pacific side of Panama really left an impression on us.

We set sail early the next morning. Below are a bunch of pictures and video from our passage. We ran across some whales which luckily wasn’t in the middle of the night. We also sailed with our Spinnaker up for a while as we got closer to the point which was ironic given how famous the point was for having such challenging conditions.

The whale sighting directly on our path around the point. There were a few of them diving and fishing for their dinner?

We made it into port and inside the marina safely well within daylight hours. We were happy to have Punta Mala behind us and without any challenges or major thunderstorms. We got lucky with the weather as we had heard stories of sailors with a completely opposite experience. Now there was time to rest, clean up the boat and shower before our celebration dinner at one of the marina restaurants. Below is a video of the servers presenting the drinks we ordered which felt like a warm welcome!

Stay tuned as we continue to explore Panama City while also preparing to transit the Panama Canal. Our friends, Sam and Keegan, came all the way from San Francisco to help us on this next adventure.

This time though we knew Leah and Kyle would not be too far behind us. Mike and Taylor had parents visiting them so they would catch up with us down the line. Michelle and Joe were also leaving Costa Rica the following day so we would see them soon. So it wasn’t a complete loss and we didn’t know yet what Panama would offer.

We met Michelle and Joe back at the dock in Guaymas, Mexico in the Fall of 2022 after we got Salacia back in the water from our summer break and before we headed south. Joe is from Delaware, near Philadelphia where Peter and I met, and Michelle is from Scranton, Pennsylvania near where my mother grew up. We were looking forward to spending some time with them.

We left very early in the morning, and started motor-sailing towards Panama. It was a very calm, beautiful morning. We hoped we would make it into the anchorage before any thunderstorms but that wasn’t guaranteed, as we were in the middle of rainy season and this stretch of the world has storms pop up any time of day.

It was going to be a long day sailing around a major point which sticks pretty far out to sea. So after a few hours, I decided to take a nap on the floor of the cockpit which I never do, but it felt cooler in the cockpit than down below. The sea was so calm and there was barely any breeze and the hum of the motor with the waves gently hitting against the hull, made me feel very sleepy.

I dreamt I was someplace else entirely, and when I woke up, I didn’t recognize where I was, as the sun had gone behind the clouds. It was a completely different scene. Peter was up under our dodger looking at the radar that showed a huge cell of thunderstorms forming a line directly in front of us. There was no way around them.

So I woke up to the calm right before the storm. It was like waking up inside a dream that was about to get real. We could see the dark line of storm clouds getting closer and closer, until finally it hit, and boy did it hit. Below is a video of what we could capture early on.

First the wind, which clocked up into the mid-30’s, then the rain, and then the waves which grew huge and slowed us way down. There wasn’t anything we could do but slowly ride this storm out. I sat down below at the nav station while Peter took watch underneath the dodger. During times like these, we both get very quiet and I find myself staring at the instruments on our chart plotter - watching the wind speed numbers clock up and up during the gusts and then slowly back down. It comforted me in knowing how strong the wind was. I was silently praying for the numbers to decrease and for this nightmare to end.

Sometimes we would hit a huge wave that would cause our boat to float high up into the air and slam back down so hard it would make everything inside the boat shake furiously. It sounded way worse than it was. Our boat was strong and she handled all of this very well but our minds felt like we were sitting on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the earth to fall from beneath us. It was a very insecure feeling reminding me of how vulnerable we are out in the open sea with only our vessel keeping us afloat. And then eventually after a few hours it was all over.

It took us a lot longer to get to our destination than we anticipated but we did arrive before sunset and we anchored at the closest anchorage on Isla Parida which faced the swell, but we didn’t care as all we wanted was to finally rest our weary minds and bodies. Our forward berth was wet from the way the waves hit our bow, the water finding its way through our forward hatch. We couldn’t sleep in our bed, so we slept in the back cabin where the boat rocked less anyway. Below is a video of our anchorage the next morning and you can see the small swell coming in and the scene around us was a beautiful sight to wake up to.

We pulled up anchor at 0800 to sail around to the other side of this small island where there was a much calmer anchorage since the wind blew over it, directing any swell away from us. Now we could relax for a while in case there were any more storms knowing we were more protected from the waves. The passage was the longest we’ve sailed during rainy season taking us into a whole new country and we were glad to settle down a bit. It turned out Michelle and Joe had a much easier time sailing over night during a full moon and they anchored next to us the following morning. I woke up to the sounds of a mother whale and her calf sleeping peacefully next to us. I sat up at the bow to watch them gently breathing. Whale sightings are special and I felt in awe to have them drifting so close to us.

Soon we sailed over to Boca Chica to officially check into Panama and do some provisioning. We followed Michelle and Joe since they sailed to Boca Chica before and the approach was tricky with a lot of reef and shoals to navigate around. The anchorage was inside a river which meandered around the trees and reef out into the open sea. We anchored tucked in close to the mainland of Panama about 2 hours south of a larger city called David.

The next day, we drove our dinghies up the river a short distance to the small town of Boca Chica and the officials met us there so we could fill out all the paper work and pay the entrance fees. Then they drove us to David to finish the check in process close to where we could rent a car. We shared the car expense with Michelle and Joe and they showed us all of their favorite places to provision, including some Asian markets where we purchased sesame oil, soy sauce and asian noodles for home-made ramen and stir fry vegetables for a change. They spent time before in David and Boca Chica on their way up from the Caribbean. That was during the pandemic so they knew their way around the area very well.

After a day of checking in and provisioning, we decided to go on an excursion to see a water fall and have a picnic together. The views were gorgeous. We loved how lush and green everything was and the landscape was different from Costa Rica. We had a fun day exploring.

We came back to our boats to witness this epic rainbow. We felt really fortunate to have spent time discovering the lush, green land of Panama. It was a great introduction to this peaceful country.

Now it was time to meet back up with Kyle and Leah who just arrived at Isla Parida. Michelle and Joe planned to anchor in Boca Chica for a while to catch up on projects for sailing to the South Pacific. So it was another farewell with hope that we would meet up again but most likely we wouldn’t. That’s hard to get use to but it’s how it is sailing as not everyone is going at the same pace. It’s also what makes the relationships exciting given the uncertainty of our time together and we fully enjoy whatever time we get to spend with each other.

In meeting up with Kyle and Leah, we chose a different place to anchor, this time Isla Gamez, which was a neighbor to Isla Parida, and we were still greeted by the same mother whale and her calf which you can see frolicking around in the video below. I continued to feel awestruck by their presence.

The storms happened almost every day. Leah took this photo below of Salacia with the storm approaching in the background. You can more easily see the line of the front in this picture and the wind and rain behind it. I remember feeling pretty vulnerable as we sat on our boat bobbing up and down next to the island but not as protected as we were in the other anchorage. We were witnessing the storm as it approached until we were enveloped inside its darkness. The initial gust hit us hard, turning Salacia abruptly against her anchor chain which held strong. This storm didn’t last very long and we were back to bobbing gently in the calm anchorage as if it never happened.