A Big Decision

Date: 12th December

Location: Shelter Bay Marina, Panama at the northern entrance to the Panama Canal.

Hurrah. Trundling back to the ocean.

So, we are booked to transit the Panama Canal from the north in the Caribbean where we are now to the south and out into the Pacific on 8th January next year. In less than a month we should be on the other side of the Americas. We'll have friends Hugh and Linda flying in to help us with the transit (bringing with them loads of boat bits). We've already done the journey as line handlers for friends Peter and Sally but it all feels a bit more serious when it's our own boat.

Our admeasurer. First step of a transit.

Once in the Pacific we'll be close by to the capital of Panama, Panama City itself. And there we will anchor for a few weeks in the shadow of this large modern city as we prepare for the arrival of Peter and Sally (who we helped through the canal earlier this year) and a week long passage to the Galapagos islands. After a month or so there we'll set off for the long passage to French Polynesia of which we are just starting to understand the geography. Included are the Marquesas, the Tuamotos and the Society islands. Then it's onwards to the Cook islands , Tonga and eventually New Zealand. We think this 8,000 mile trip will all be next year but we might split it and return to the UK at some stage. But whatever, it is a long way with very little opportunity to restock or get spares if things break (which they always do).

Which route should we choose?

The logistics of all this are pretty fearsome, especially as by default following Brexit we only get 90 days in French Polynesia. And the Galapagos have very strict rules on entry too. So much so that many boats give them a miss or simply sail to mainland Equador and fly in instead. We are hopeful we can sail there though and have started the two month autografo application process.

But that's all to come. What have we been doing since we rescued our baggage from Iberia airways?

The first and most important job was the rudder. This actually went pretty well. It was dropped and the rudder post found not to be bent after all. A new hull sleeve was fabricated and fitted and the forklift brought into action to push the 300 pound rudder back up into position. Sounds simple but of course the yard messed up the top bearing in the process requiring a bit of fibreglass work to repair and it all took longer than expected. But it's done and hopefully sorted.

Out it comes.

And back it goes

Whilst still on the hard I installed a new through hull for the water maker and replaced the main engine water intake. Gill started to stop various leaks that have showed themselves in this very rainy place, cleaned, serviced the steering chains and began to return Mehalah to passage making status.

Stemming another leak.

The new water maker membranes.

At the same time we were checking out my health following the collapse on the plane on the way out here. Various tests for diabetes and other sugar related issues and then a visit to a heart specialist in the capital indicated that nothing was basically wrong. It was diagnosed as vasovagal syncope, a type of harmless fainting. The consultant said "You won't die of it but it might happen again. If it happens at sea make sure you are wearing a lifejacket!" So that's sounds OK. Just need a good PSA before we leave and we're good to go.

We've also had some security issues with our PC which I won't go into now but were pretty stressful at the time. Panama is not the safest country in the world so every big supermarket has heavily armed and camouflaged guards posted outside. Colon City itself is pretty much a no-go town after dark.

Once back in the water everything becomes more fun. Still lots of jobs to do but a social life as well. Shelter Bay reminds us a bit of Gibraltar. It's a crossroads. Boats from the Yukon and British Colombia who have come through the canal and are either headed north to the east coast of the US or out to the Caribbean chain that we have come from, some via Colombia, others via Jamaica and across to the US Virgins Islands. Then there are lots that have made the tricky journey, the Thorny Passage down from Florida via Puerto Rico. And a few like us who have come across from Europe most of which plan a similar route to us.

Sunday evening Pot Luck.

Back in the water party.

Last week we went with a Canadian friend to see the Neo Panamax northern canal locks. These are the even wider, even bigger locks recently build alongside the existing just very wide, very big old locks. We watched one of the new Neo Panamax container ships which just fit in the new locks, enter the Atlantic from the lake on the watershed. On it were 6,800 containers!

Almost there. Looking north to the Atlantic.

As more boats arrive here it's a rare evening when we eat alone. It's either Sunday pot luck (bring your own BBQ food and a dish to share) or planning sessions with new friends on a similar schedule. We try to do some exercise each morning before we crack on with more prep. A walk in the jungle or more often now a jog, or yoga or a swim. We are more toned and less stressed than when we left the UK.

Crocodile spotting (unsuccessful).

And the jobs list is reducing too. The new water maker is installed so we should be able to magically turn seawater to fresh as we travel westwards later in the year. We've been ordering new chain and flares from the US and any number of items for Hugh and Linda to bring out with them.

There are crocodiles in the marina here which made for some very fast swimming times in the rain sodden triathlon a couple of weeks ago. And a sloth was recovered here and returned to the nearby jungle. Loads of agoutis and coatis scamper across the forest roads as the cappoquin monkeys laugh down at us and the howler monkeys shout out their noisy calls. Various eagles and vultures soar overhead whilst sandpipers flit along the shoreline. Today we saw some squirrels for the first time and on the bus to Colon last week the driver had to stop to let an anteater cross the road.

Very fast swimmer.

Jungle and lianas.

Another coati.

Unknown plover.

But our next challenge is renewing our visas. North Americans get six months in Panama but as the UK only gives Panamanians visas for three months that's what they give us too. And three months is up before we want to leave. Some people just overstay and pay a fine on departure but others have not been so lucky some even ending up in jail. So we've decided on a quick trip west to neighbouring Costa Rica which is supposed to be very beautiful. It looks like this calls for a two hour bus ride to Panama City, a night in the metropolis and then a further 8 hours(?) on the bus to the border crossing which in itself can take a further two hours of uncertainty. We'll spend a couple of days on the beach or in a nature reserve before reversing the whole process hopefully with shiny new visas in our passports. The return into Panama could be problematical as we don't have onward flights out of the country. Why would we? We are sailing out.

The Best Laid Plans...

Location: Shelter Bay Marina, Panama

Date: 19th October 2022

Well, we've made it back to Panama but not without a few hiccups.

Our time in Europe alternated between mother caring duties and friend and family reunions. We saw all Gill's sisters, plenty of friends as well as daughters Jenny (in Zaragoza, Spain) and Emma (from London), Jack and Fizzy in their beautiful French farmhouse and Marcus' parents. We emptied our storage unit, attended a friend's memorial service and spent social time with the canal restoration team. It was great to revisit our other life.

We also made the big decision to transit the Panama Canal early next year and to head across the massive Pacific Ocean, destination New Zealand sometime in the future probably via the Galapagos islands. That prompted the purchase of a Rainman watermaker which magically converts seawater to fresh water, as well as numerous other spare parts. After all you really don't want to be sourcing parts from distant Bora Bora or Tahiti do you?

Eight thousand miles of white chart!

We ended up with four hold bags, one of which was oversize and one over weight. Hopefully we could reclaim the VAT tax on the watermaker.

The baggage accumulates.

All ready to fly on 23rd September with our care commitments almost finished when my brother and his wife inconveniently contract COVID. So my mum's support team is decimated unless we can help out. We decide to stay an extra three weeks, and in that time move her into a permanent care home. We of course have no other prior commitments as our diary simply says "Panama". There follows a very hard three weeks when we do indeed get her established in Scarlet House care home and we even manage to clear her flat for sale. More social arrangements also magically appear.

Mum.

So it's a tired couple who set off for Gatwick Airport in a one way hire car. All goes swimmingly to begin with. The car hire price is dropped and the British Airways check in lady doesn't charge us extra for the big bag and lets us take the heavy one for free! This though after we find out that VAT reclaims are now only possible if shipped direct by the supplier. Thank you Brexit! We decide to spend a short night in a Gatwick hotel and the lady there upgrades us just because we had a nice chat at check-in.

Off we go to Gatwick at 2.45am and a big breakfast in the Royal Bank of Scotland lounge breaking all my no bacon, no honeycomb, no sugary baked beans rules (prostate cancer still held at bay with PSA at 1.4, down from an initial 643).

That's when things began to go downhill. Before we even took off I collapsed. Paramedics were called, Gill wondered whether I would come round and nurses appeared from nowhere. Eventually I did come round and amazingly was deemed fit to fly (mainly I think because they didn't want the hassle of finding and unloading all our bags). At one stage we considered breaking our journey and going to see Jenny in Spain but I was feeling a bit better by the time we reached Madrid so with ringing ears we transferred for the ten hour flight to Panama.

PTY, Panama International. We whizzed through immigration and into baggage reclaim. They are calling for Douch John to go to Customs. But first we need our bags. We wait. We wait some more. The carousel empties. Finally we spot the oversize bag on the next belt. But that's it. No sign of the other three bags. We go to Lost Luggage and fill in a form. Maybe they will come on Monday on the next Iberia flight. Maybe Customs have them. Is that why they called Douch John? Nope, the don't have them and can't remember why they called me either.

Ah well, let's at least take our one bag through customs and out to Olmedo (you will know him by his girth) the taxi driver. What's this? We need to pay duty? WTF, this is for a Yacht in Transit and duty free. Oh no it's not, we need to calculate the tax. We give them the, slightly undervalued, invoice and off they go. $200US dollars plus which is a bummer but at least we have the cash. Oh no, you can't do that, we need to keep hold of it, you need to employ an agent and it's Friday night so come back on Monday. All this of course carried out in Spanish with plenty of opportunity for confusion. Thank goodness for Gilly's Duolingo course.

It's a two hour drive from Panama City airport to Shelter Bay where the boat is and we don't know an agent and I bet Olmedo the taxi driver has given up and gone home. But no, he's still there and we sit quietly after a 37 hour journey finally arriving at 2am UK time on Day2.

But it's warm and Mehelah has been moved out of the quarantine yard into the workyard and they've even left a ladder for us to get on board.

Sleep.

Two days on and things look a bit less bleak. We've found an agent. We've learned that Iberia luggage usually arrives eventually and the boat is getting a bit more organised. This evening we've been to a very American Pot Luck (bring your own food to share) and we've filled our water tank. The electricity still doesn't work and there are a few dead cockroaches aboard though maybe our friendly gecko will eat any live ones. We're gradually modifying our expectations and things are looking up as we prepare to address the rudder problem. But that's for another day.

Graham our gecko.

2 Days later....

After another morning when I didn't feel too good things start to look up. Gill gets Juanjo  and his office lady Katarin involved. They of course know people who know people both at Iberia and Customs. Juanco saves us $700US by convincing them we don't need to pay duty and hence have no need of an agent. I talk in "Spanish" to the delivery man. We both say "Shelter Bay Marina" a lot and then up rolls a van with the three missing bags. One of them we were told had been vibrating. The new hair clippers must have switched themselves on when the bag was tossed around. Big bags require a trolley to transport them. Unfortunately the trolley is covered in thick grease that gets all over two of the bags. Still, that's a good start. Just the Customs bag now.

Off we set back to PTY airport in Olmedo's taxi. He's been primed by Juanjo so he knows the task. It's a bit like the Panama check in in the blue shack......

Drive to PTY. Eventually determine which terminal we need to go to. Go to Terminal 2. Go to Customs door. Need to go upstairs to get a badge to go airside where the bag is. Gill surrenders passport in exchange for badge. Back downstairs. Gill disappears through the Customs door.

Olmedo begins the long wait outside Customs door.

Inside she is starting the fight against the system. Show driving licence, fill in forms, wait, wait. Wait for customs lady who needs to come with us back to the northern end of the Panama Canal to Cristobal. After 90 minutes she arrives from Cargo and off we set. A further 90 minutes and we wend our way through a dodgy part of Colon to the northern customs team office. Here there is a complex handover to the tough looking Colon customs lady before we take the pretty petite Panama City one to the bus station so she can scamper back, relieved, to Panama City. Meanwhile Gill is left in the hands of Colon Customs where a violent shouting match takes place around her about who knows what and eventually we can drive back to Shelter Bay. Result. Reunited with all bags thanks to Juanjo, Katerina and Olmedo. Without them we are lost.

Oh. Did I tell you it rains here? A lot. Two inches the other night and more than that tonight with spectacular thunder and lightning. The boat leaks in a least three places.

Now we can start putting things away and looking at the rudder issue. Today I've exposed the bolts holding the skeg onto the hull and it's all gone quite well. An impact driver is need to extract them to allow the rudder to drop. Off to Novi in Colon for that on Friday.

Exposing the skeg bolts.

Wildlife?

Large cat.

Toucan.

Coati.

Exploring Panama

Current Date: 26th June 2022

Current Location: Ebley. England

We left Linton Bay and made our way westward along the northern coast of Panama, via Portabelo to Shelter Bay Marina. Portabelo was much fought over in the 1700s. Spain used this lovely natural harbour to ship out its silver and Britain thought it would like some of the action. Plenty of to-ing and fro-ing have left impressive ruined fortifications. It was here too that Sir Francis Drake died, possibly of dysentery in 1596 and he was buried at sea close to what is now known as Drake Island at the entrance to the bay.

The now sleepy town of Portabelo.

Mehalah dodging the Spanish guns.

And so we arrived at the entrance to the Panama Canal, creeping along the small ships channel shoreside of the big ships. A few miles out from the massive entrance breakwater we radioed Christobal Traffic Control on Ch12. They told us to wait for one large ship to emerge into the Atlantic after which we could sneak in and continue inside to Western breakwater to Shelter Bay where we had previously met Peter and Sally on Milly for their transit through the canal. Very exciting to be back there as we tied up in the marina

We were here to, yet again, put Mehalah to bed whilst we returned to the UK. It's a hot, hard job in sweltering temperatures and high humidity. Sails off, everything packed into sealed containers or vacuum packed bags, canvas down, everything cleaned, gas off, water tanks emptied, fuel tanks filled, clothing washed and dried, impellor changed, engine serviced, generator serviced, outboard emptied. The list seems endless.

Out we come again.

Into the jungle we must go.

But not so busy that we couldn't make some new friends though. A smart new Beneteau 50 pulled in across from us and we met the owners, an Argentinian couple who came for dinner. He, a top back and neck orthopaedic surgeon and she an anaesthetist. They live in Pilar in the north of the country and were taking a two month break. Pilar is a wine growing region of Argentina so they brought out a bottle of red from their friend's estate!

Soon though it was time to lift out and inspect the rudder damage out of the water. You know how it goes now. Motor to the haulout bay, lift out in the slings, transfer to the trailer and trundle to the yard where we are propped up. Nothing unusual here except my usual impeccable rope throwing as we entered the dock was somewhat less impeccable this time.

The news was not good. The sleeve and  flange which protect the rudder post as it enters the bottom of the boat has twisted and dropped. It looks as though we will have to drop the 300lb rudder when we get back in September to make the repair. On Mehalah this is a BIG job as the skeg the rudder is attached to must also be removed. And then, what will we find?

Offending flange - should be bolted to hull above.

Another few days of final full on tasks were eventually completed at 9.01 by which time the trailer had arrived for our 9.00 appointment to move Mehalah from the work yard to the storage yard. We hope that the covers, curtains, bilge pumps and the promised dehumidifier will keep her dry for when we return. Reports from previous sailors who have been through the process here are variable to say the least.

We now had five days before we flew out and we decided to go on holiday! It might sound like we are on holiday all the time but this is like leaving your land based house to go on holiday. For a few days you can forget about all those jobs that need doing and the sometimes intense world of long distance sailors to explore the world outside the marina.

We had hoped to visit Mamoni Valley Preserve (www.mamonivalleypreserve.org) but they couldn't guarantee the rivers between there and the airport would be passable even by 4x4 so we had to make other plans. Remember it is the rainy season here and we heard that a few years ago 340mm fell in three hours up in the mountains. So we planned two days in a small homestay in El Valle de Anton and a final three days in a hotel there. El Valle is, I think, the only inhabited extinct volcano in the western hemisphere. Lush, green and now becoming a centre for adventure sports it lies just south of the Continental Divide.

A long, busy taxi ride much of it along the busy Pan Mercian Highway and we finally arrived at DondeJose. José lives here in this simple house on the edge of town with Liz, her daughter Khloe and Liz's mother. He has one simple room he rents out to visitors. We were made to feel as if the house was ours and José offered to accompany us up one of the hills around the rim of the volcano the following day.

Maria, Liz and Jose

And so we came to climb The Sleeping Indian so named because it looks like a sleeping Indian. Hot, humid rainforest on the steep sides of the hill as we followed a series of waterfalls eventually coming out onto an area devoid of trees where the normal wind prevents their growth. We were in cloud and José was very disappointed as he wanted to show us the view of the the 'valley', the crater, below. Gill and José chatted on in broken Spanglish and I heard a few words my Duolingo course had taught me.

Rock paintings on the way to the top of cloud shrouded Sleeping Indian.

Next day we decided to climb Cerro de CaraIguana 'Iguana Face' so named because it doesn't look like an Iguana's face. This was even steeper but mostly on tracks and this time we were rewarded with magnificent views over El Valle below. Gill was looking for a sloth but all we saw was a large snake, possibly a rat snake, as we descended.

CaraIguana.

CaraIguana summit.

Rat snake?

Then it was time to move to our hotel, the Golden Frog, on the other side of the crater for a final chill out. But not before José and Liz had sorted out our bus back to Panama City. As it happened Liz was travelling there too at the same time. So we said a sad farewell crossed the valley to the hotel.

Breakfast time.

The Golden Frog was an average hotel with stupendous views situated halfway up the crater side. It was basically empty. We lazed around, walked into town for last minute present shopping and climbed a small local hill. I can recommend not putting your full forearm into a Panamanian ants nest. Finally I sent a spur of the moment email to a guy who gave bird watching tours. And he said yes he could take us the next day. We were waiting outside the hotel at 6.45 and off we went. The crater is about 6km across and it has recorded over 300 bird species. Spotters come from all over the world. We visited the flat valley bottom floor, a pond, cloud forest and wet forest. Mario our guide had worked for the Smithsonian Institute for twenty years and then run various ornithological companies since. He was amazing identifying most of the species initially by call and then imitating them until they flew close enough to us to see them. Bird of the Day was the rare Amazon Kingfisher but we also saw toucans, tanagers, herons, swallow tailed kite, ringed kingfisher, woodpeckers, flycatchers and mot mots. Over 50 species in 4 hours. Quite amazing. Gill had told Mario she wasn't too interested in birds. She just wanted to see a sloth. Last tree of the day and what was that up in the branches? A sloth! Amazing. One happy Gilly as we made our way back to the hotel.

In search of the elusive mot mots. It is VERY jungly.

The rare Amazon Kingfisher.

And finally.....here he is!

Hope you like the time lapse photography?

Next day was travel day. José arrived in a taxi he had organised to take us and our luggage to the bus stop. The bus was early and passed us going the other way. José simply flagged it down, got it to turn around, and off we went to meet up with Liz. Turned out she was only travelling the three hours to make sure we arrived in town safely! The bus driver treated the Pan American Highway like it was a Formula 1 racetrack and then Liz's brother, who just happened to be a taxi driver, drove us to the airport. Wrong terminal but who cares. A long flight to Madrid and another to Heathrow where Harry and Sandra from the canal met us. We finally arrived in Ebley 30 hours after setting off to find our fridge restocked with food. Thank you Harry and Rachel.

Modern Panama City.

And so we return yet again to England and as is customarily when we arrive at a new place here are the key points to watch if ever you think of entering this small island.

1. It is now VERY expensive.

2. Everything works - except the trains and the baggage handlers this week and British Airways staff later in the summer.

3. They have great, deep, hot baths.

4. They have the comfiest beds.

5. No one says "Hello" when you pass them in the street. We got about 65% eye contact today.

6. Everyone speaks proper English.

7. Pigeons nest on your enclosed balcony.

8. Your best, long term friends live there.

9. It's not very warm and the sun is low.

10. The roads are even busier than Panama City but etiquette is considerably better.

11. Cheese, veggies and bread are excellent.

12. Everyone wears grey.

And some final memories of Panama.

1. Surely the best pineapples in the world.

2. So much green, so much jungle. Green, green, green, green.

3. Some dangerous areas, notably Colon.

4. Such hospitable people.

5. A very turbulent recent history (read Six Minutes to Freedom).

See you in September.

The Indescribably Beautiful San Blas Islands

Current Date: 20th May 2020

Current Location: A Tropical Island, San Blas, Panama

Early morning passage.

Dinghy surrounded by fallen coconuts 

We left Linton Bay Marina and motored east all day to the San Blas Islands or Kuna Yala as the Indians that live here prefer to call it. A 30 mile by 20 mile group of over 300 coconut laden islands many of them uninhabited.

We've been here before but not in our own boat. Remember "Fucking Bueno" back in 2016? Some cracking photos there!

Our first stop was Chichime where we were soon met by Venancio one of the sellers of the famous Kuna molas. These are layered pieces of material intricately cut out and sewn to make beautiful images of birds and fish.

Three layers of material and detailed stitching.

But now it's the off season in Kuna Yala. The wet season. The lightening season. It's quiet with few yachts in the anchorages. Time to chill and make new friends.

Like Reg (Canadian) and Debs (Australian) who came here 28 years ago on their way to New Zealand and never left. Their boat, Runner, is now fixed to the bottom in the middle of Swimming Pool anchorage by a 237kg anchor recovered from a sunken ship and delivered by a couple of local boats. They have an amazing network of Panamanians who can source anything from fridges to dim sum. Mostly it comes from Panama City, the last bit of the journey by 4x4 and then "pongo" the modern equivalent of the dugout canoes.

Or like the Brazilians from two boats we kept meeting in each new anchorage - always ready to party.

Brazilian meet up

Navigation is more challenging than normal. The whole area is shallow with numerous coral reefs to be avoided. We are starting to be able to guess water depths by the colour of the water. The Navionics charts we have used everywhere so far are less accurate here. The charts to use are those produced by a German cruiser and marine surveyor called Eric Bauhaus. His book and charts are invaluable. See below how Navionics has us  on a reef when actually Eric shows us accurately in the channel. His charts can be used with OpenCPN an open source navigation programme I have started using. Amazingly OpenCPN can also use what are effectively geolocated screen shots from Google Earth. We can see ourselves moving through the shallows as our little boat icon traverses the Google Earth image. Quite amazing and it's even possible to make your own Google Earth 'charts'.

Eric has us nicely positioned between two reefs.

Navionics would have had us on land where the red arrow is.

Communication with the outside world is much more patchy here too. Only the islands closer to the mainland have a mobile connection so our Spanish Duolingo courses have had to take a back seat. We can talk to other boats locally on Channel 72 VHF and there is also an HF net at 8.30 each morning run by Debs of Runner. It's pretty quiet this time of year but on occasions they've had boats as far away as The Marquesas on the Pacific checking in.

Sharks. They're here. Today I threw the old vegetable matter overboard. The water was flat and blue as blue. A few ramoras that live on the back of sharks, attached by their suckers, came up to investigate and then up came the big old nurse shark too. 2m long and swimming round the boat just a few inches beneath the surface. Too enthralled we didn't take a picture. This was our second encounter. Previously when snorkelling we spotted another one lying by a rock. They are harmless but we turned and swam the other way! More seriously the Kuna told the boats with children to keep their kids out of the water because a hammerhead and tiger shark had been seen in the bay. They are NOT harmless! To make matters worse crocodiles are also not unknown here though mostly they keep to the creeks and rivers of the mainland.

We're travelling on and off with Wit Wat the boat who crossed from Aruba at the same time as us. But otherwise we now see more South American boats than European ones here. Still a fair number of monohulls out for skippered backpacker charters too. But it's all very low key and laid back.

Home shopping delivery. Panamanian style.

We are having to be more careful with our services and provisions too. We are on our second, and last, gas bottle. The often cloudy weather means our solar array can only just, or not, keep up with our minimal electrical demands and we have not come across any water taps here so far. What there is though is LOTS of rainwater. Our rain catching systems are less than a hundred percent effective but we can collect over 100 litres overnight plus the dinghy which might hold another 80 litres. This is the only use for the dinghy at present as the kayak is much better in these shallow waters. So plenty for washing clothes and dishes which leaves our main tanks for fizzy water, tea and coffee making.

Part of the water catching system 

There's weed too. Big swathes of brown sargassum. It clogged our raw water filter as we left the Swimming Pool anchorage. On Mehalah this is tricky. The engine seacock doesn't completely seal the filter is attached to the through hull well below water level. It's the original, 40 years old. And once you've removed the cap and the glass and the perforated filter you still have to poke around in the inlet with a pair of Gill's eyebrow tweezers to coax out the bits of weed (it looks like short lengths of tagliatelle). And water is coming into the boat at the same time.

Just outside the weeded area....for now.

This is the problem.

I mentioned lightening. This is the big worry at this time of year. The north coast of Panama and the San Blas in particular are frequently hit. Once you have made the decision to be here there's not much you can do except cross your fingers and hope for the best. If you do get hit the first thing is to check we are both OK and then make sure it hasn't blown a hole through the hull, knocked out a through hull or set fire to anything. Next it's a review of electronics to see what's not working. Then talk to the insurers. Getting a direct hit is not to be recommended.

We'll be here for another few weeks before making our way to Shelter Bay Marina where we met Milly for their Panama Canal transit. We'll lift out there and return to the UK for the rest of the wet season. And then? Who knows?

PS: I spoke with Dave Wilton the other day. Dave of Dave and Vera our Cumbria neighbours of 30 years who brought anodes, shaft seals and Covid out for us earlier in the year. Dave was most upset that I had omitted to mention his sterling work on the generator charging and monitoring system. Here's a picture.

Ae we friends again now Dave?

Current Date: 23rd May 2022

Current Location: Green Island, San Blas

We thought we were getting good at this anchoring business but three nights ago in the Coco Banderos island group we drifted into a sand bank. The bow with the depth finder in it said we were still in 3.3m of water (which is plenty in these shallow waters) but the rudder was firm in the sand with the wheel spinning as the front of Mehalah swung around. Then there was an ominous "clunk". We carefully upped anchor and reanchored 15m further away. Next morning, after a sleepless night we donned masks and snorkels and went to assess the damage. Part of the bearing where the rudder stock comes through the hull had twisted off and we thought the stock might be bent. Added excitement when Gill shouted out to me that 'Nursey' our resident 2m nurse shark was under the boat too. Oh dear what a nuisance (or words to that affect) and we should have known better and moved earlier! A quick post on the Stevens 47 forum and it sounded as though we should be OK to limp back to Linton Bay. Today we motored carefully a few miles to this more open anchorage and we are encouraged that the stock is not bent. We shall see but we've decided to stay here a few more days before working our way west.

Not much sleep that night and not much last night either as a big lightening storm crashed around us. We were still a bit jumpy after the rudder incident but all was well as we swung into deeper water. Another 100 litres of fresh water collected overnight in the dinghy.

Tonight is a beautiful evening though. A big star filled sky with the lightening 30 or so miles away from us. We can see the Plough pointing north and to the south lies the Southern Cross. A light shone in the water reveals a myriad of 15cm fish splashing around and a couple of small sharks darting from under the boat. Usually I would get the fishing rod out but somehow the thought of hooking a shark is not too appealing!

Current Date: Linton Bay Marina

Current Date: 2nd June 2022

We decided to head down right close to the Panamanian mainland to take a look at one of the small Kuna towns, Nagana. A grey day saw us motor 10 miles and anchor in mud for the first time for a while. Dinghy into town. It's crowded together, poor but very friendly. School was reconvening for the afternoon session. Everyone on the island wore masks. Next day interspersed with the ever present thunder and lightening storms (another three inches of rain overnight) we took the dinghy up the River Diablo. Dinghy because we were a bit wary of crocs biting through the thin floor of the kayak. We grounded the dinghy on the way over the bar to the river but luckily this time no damage done. Another world. Dark and mysterious.

Nagana Town

Many, many mangroves up the Rio Diablo 

Then it was back to Chichime before leaving for Linton Bay where we are now. Chichime was pretty busy again as it's where the charter boats stock up and where most boats spend their first and last night's. During one rainstorm Venancio who sold us the molas when we first arrived came on board and told us a lot about the culture of the proud Kuna Indians. At one time the Spanish tried to conquer them and although this was generations ago he is still frightened when a Spanish registered boat comes in to anchor. He also told us that Nagana the town we had just left is no longer a traditional Kuna town. The school we saw only teaches in Spanish and Spanish is the only language spoken there. He told us he owned some coconut trees on several of the small islands and the proceeds were shared across his entire extended family. Coconuts and the hand crafted molas are traded with the nearby Colombians for rice, sugar and other goodies. He asked us if we had any reading glasses as many of the women who work on the intricate molas when the are younger lose their close vision. We gave him two pairs and promised to bring out more pairs when we return from the UK. We had a fascinating hour with him until the rain stopped.

Next day we decided to make for Linton Bay. We we're going to stay longer in the San Blas but actually, a bit like lobsters, you can have too much of a good thing. It was time to leave.

Somewhat apprehensive with our rudder issue still not properly understood, we set off through the tricky dog leg exit between the reefs in the grey early morning. We very quickly realised there was not much water coming out the exhaust, a sure sign that we were blocked with weed again. So we turned round anchored just off the island and began the risk fraught clearance of the filter again. All was well but replacement of the system has come high up the must-do list. The water we took on in this process caused the bilge alarm to come on a couple of times and as we neared Linton Bay we realised the rudder post was letting in a steady trickle of sea water too. More jobs to sort!

Here lies the problem. Another job when we lift out.

Today we has another adventure. Our little 2.5 Yamaha outboard suddenly decided not to start yesterday and despite dismantling and cleaning it it refused yet again today to start. And we needed it for a trip to the nearby Panamarina through the 'Tunnel of Lurve'! YouTube came to the rescue with a Q-Tip rotated in an electric drill up inside the sticky float needle housing and a couple of newly made gaskets. Off we set to collect 1,600 USD in cash from the marina office who had sold friends Jack and Fizzy's wind steering after they had decided to sell Carpe Die for health reasons. Dodge the shallows, cross the bay, over the bar and into the Tunnel of Lurve, a mangrove fringed passage just wide enough to get a dinghy through. Very evocative. Out the other side to find Sylvie the joint French owner of pretty Panamarina was out to lunch. So we opted for a nice French lunch, watched the vegetable man arrive and sympathised with a very hot dog. Sylvie arrived and said she didn't have the money but would go into Panama City tomorrow and bring it across to Linton Bay herself. Hopefully she and it arrive tomorrow. On the way back we called in to see Carina who are leaving tomorrow for an overnight sail to Bocas do Toro, another island group further west. We probably won't see them again.

No wonder it stopped with all that gunge on the jet.

The Tunnel of Lurve.

We have decided to return to the UK for July, August and September but then we'll be back out again to continue our travels. But before that we will work our way to Shelter Bay where we'll leave Mehalah. We are then trying to organise a few days in a jungle eco setup before flying out of Panama via Spain on 23rd June.

Click here to see all the earlier Mehalah and Petronella posts.