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 the tree almost hitting us on its way down!
The incident created a sea of excitement from everyone all around us. We were already lit up from seeing everyone again 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 cruising in Mexico 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 after being away from it for so long. 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 and other boats started dragging their anchors. 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 in the anchorage was dragging, we would get out in our dinghies no matter what time of day or night to help 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 all 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!
We searched for some wood and kindling on the beach to build us a big bonfire. Given how everything came together so perfectly for us on this beautiful remote island, we wanted to honor our good fortune and this special night with a fire, under the huge galaxy of stars and the brightest moon light.
As we stood around the fire, and swayed or danced to the rhythm of the music, I reflected on how grateful I felt that we made it through all of the ups and downs so far and with them came 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 I feel 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.
Wow! Thanks for sharing the beauty that you experienced. Also good instincts in avoiding the palm tree, Donna.
Marie
Looks like you had a blast with your friends! And the photos, again, are spectacular, especially the one of the small island basking in the pink sky.