We set off again after celebrating JM’s birthday with Bart and Marian from Maeva, at the home of American friends in Bocas del Toro, a region on Panama’s Caribbean coast, close to the border with Costa Rica. We reached Bocas by rental car after having to abandon an attempt to get there by boat due to rough sea conditions.
Joel and Kate are musicians, so we immediately enjoyed a few live shows at the Coquitos Bar: one for Kate’s and JM’s birthdays, and a private jam session with several musicians during a Thanksgiving dinner at their home. We even met the former drummer of Pink Floyd! Great fun all around but after a week of living in a house ans too much tropical rain, the familiar itch returns. Time to cast off the lines. We set our course for San Blas, with Maeva following in our wake.
Before long, we welcome visitors on board. Roy and Bruce from Curaçao are in Panama and join us for a few days on these paradise islands. We immerse them in the culture of Kuna Yala. Our first adventure starts early in the morning with the dinghy on the Rio Diablo, near the village of Nargana.
The river winds its way through the jungle and serves as the village’s freshwater supply during the dry season. In the morning, men paddle upstream with empty barrels; a few hours later, they return in heavily loaded canoes, each barrel filled to the brim with fresh water. Is it drinkable? That remains a question. The further upstream they go, the cleaner the water becomes.
We take the dinghy as far upriver as possible, until it becomes too shallow and we touch bottom. From there, we let ourselves drift back with the current. Along the way, we soak in the jungle around us: a pair of toucans flying past, a noisy group of awakening oropendolas with their comical calls, a colorful woodpecker searching for insects in a dead palm, screeching parrots overhead, several caracaras perched in the trees and high above them all, turkey vultures circling and keeping watch.
But life here isn’t only in the air. In the river, we spot freshwater stingrays and a freshwater turtle. Moments later, a crocodile even surfaces. We’re also entertained by the basilisk, better known as the Jesus Christ lizardThe name says it all, this little creature can run across the water. Incredible to see but almost impossible to capture on photo or video due to its speed.
We’re lucky enough to spot a family of monkeys in the trees and a pair of capybaras wandering through the vegetation. What a journey. This is pure nature.
Next, we sail on to Coco Banderas and drop anchor among exotic islands fringed with palm trees and white sandy beaches. We enjoy the views, the crystal-clear blue water, buy lobsters for dinner from local fishermen and visit a small island at sunset. Pure magic.
San Blas is made up of hundreds of small islands, so it would be a shame to stay in one place for too long. We change anchorages almost daily, always in search of even bluer water, even whiter sand and even more beautiful palm trees. Or maybe it just feels that way?
Provisioning here isn’t always easy, supermarkets are far away but it’s surprisingly well organized. For Christmas and New Year, we arrange a delivery from the PriceSmart supermarket to the Cayes Hollandes. Elmer, a local man, travels one or two times a week between the islands in his lancha, loaded with fruit, vegetables, sometimes frozen chicken, soda, beer and eggs. He collects our online supermarket order in Panama City and delivers it two days later to the small dock at Ibn’s Restaurant.
We stock up on extra fruit and vegetables so we’re set for a while. Paying 20–30% on top of the supermarket price is well worth it, going to Panama City ourselves would cost much more. At other anchorages, different vendors regularly pass by selling bread, produce, fish or lobsters. I could get used to this; grocery shopping in a supermarket has never been my favorite activity.
With our supplies replenished, we can focus once again on the underwater world. Officially, diving is not allowed under the rules of the Congreso (the Kuna parliament), just like windsurfing, kitesurfing, and the use of drones. However, we soon hear from a Kuna himself that most Kuna don’t strictly enforce these rules, as long as you don’t run into the Congreso and other charter boats don’t report you.
To avoid potential fines, we keep a low profile and only dive in remote locations, far away from other boats. To be honest, many dive sites are a bit disappointing compared to what we’re used to: limited visibility, coral down to about twenty meters and mostly sand beyond that. Snorkeling often offers more, with sleeping nurse sharks and large stingrays.
The most beautiful dive site is one we remember from thirteen years ago, when we were here with Jakker and my parents: en mijn ouders: de tunnels aan het barrièrerif van de Cayes Hollandes. Het is een soort grottensysteem onder het rif dat uitkomt in de open zee. Bij rustig weer duik je er ontspannen doorheen, langs slapende verpleegsterhaaien en grote scholen vis. Prachtig.
The following day, the wind picks up and heavy breakers crash onto the reef. The conditions are completely different. Every wave pounding the reef creates a powerful surge of water toward the open sea. Getting out is easy but returning through the tunnel becomes a battle: swimming whenever the current briefly weakens and gripping the rocks as another wave rolls over the reef. Who ever said diving isn’t a sport?
Fish also use the tunnels as sheltered passageways on the inside of the reef. That’s how we discover a family of impressively large eagle rays searching for shells. They seem to fly as they circle around, returning again and again. If you stay calm and move slowly, they come surprisingly close. Truly magnificent animals.
This is without a doubt our favorite spot in the entire San Blas. We’re usually alone here, as it’s a long dinghy ride through shallow water to reach the barrier reef. It’s a place we love sharing with our friends from Maeva and Maverick.
We celebrate Christmas together on the small island of Miriadiadup, part of the Cayes Hollandes but located a bit further west. Mola master Prado lives here with his niece. He generously offers his facilities for our Christmas barbecue: a table with benches under a shelter and a kitchen with an open fire. We bring the rest ourselves.
Prado and his niece display their beautiful molas, hand-sewn fabric panels depicting underwater scenes or birds, along with bracelets and souvenirs. We all buy something, enjoy the island and admire the view of our boats anchored nearby. It’s a wonderfully cozy afternoon with friends.
New Year’s Eve is celebrated on Banedup, home to Ibn’s Beach Bar. He organizes a party for over two hundred people and recruits half his family to help with the buffet. We sign up as well, after all, you don’t celebrate New Year’s Eve every year on a tiny tropical island, far from everything, with an elaborate buffet included.
We start with a self-organized aperitif on the beach, feet in the water, together with Maeva, Maverick and Heather and John, who are staying on board with us. A palm tree serves as our table for the snacks. Glasses filled, sunset glowing, the moon rising, the picture is complete.
As dusk settles in, the New Year’s buffet opens. We line up and are amazed by the scale and the beautifully presented dishes. It’s hard to believe all of this comes from such a simple beach kitchen. We eat, catch up with old friends and around midnight we’re back aboard Blowing Bubbles. We watch a bit of fireworks, then crawl into bed, tired but deeply satisfied. Blowing Bubbles. Nog even vuurwerk kijken en dan kruipen we moe maar voldaan ons bed in.
San Blas was a wonderful chapter for us. We saw an incredible amount of wildlife, above and below water, enjoyed our encounters with the Kuna, spent countless hours in and under the sea and loved the relaxed sailing between the islands. But slowly, that familiar itch returns.
It’s time to continue our journey.
