Colombia to Panama boat ride

There are 3 ways to enter Panama from Colombia. The first is a 12-day hike across the Darien gap dodging drug runners and charlatans with all your possessions in hand (strongly not advised). The second and most popular option is by plane. The reason for this is that it is safe, hassle free and not too expensive. Option 3, the one we chose, is a beautiful 5-day sailing trip via the paradise San Blas islands. The trip costs a similar amount to the flight and promises to be an experience you will never forget. Well that was certainly the case on our trip...


With Angie and Dave, the Australian couple we had been travelling with on-and-off since Bolivia, we set off to take a look at a potential vessel and its owner at the nautical club in Cartagena. Angie was apprehensive about taking a small craft so this 60ft sailing boat with 16 years of floating including 2 Atlantic crossings to its name seemed like a safe bet. We arrived at the club as the sun was setting behind the western peninsular of Cartagena’s harbour and the light was fading. The owner and Captain of the ship had arranged for anyone wishing to join him aboard on his way to Panama to meet the evening before he set sail. Our plans of haggling down the price were dashed when we met the group of 11 potential first-mates and seamen, fighting for 9 places onboard (by this I mean tourists with about 4 minutes sailing experience between them and by sailing experience of course I mean they’ve all been on the pedal swans at theme parks throughout the globe). It was at about this time that 2 of the group of 11 people including us, would start to stand out as people we may not want to spend 5 days on a boat with. Unfortunately for us one of them was the Captain and the other who will be named J2 would definitely be sailing.


The Captain
Some people say that a solo life at sea can make your sense of reality go a little wayward, maybe you’ll start talking to yourself, find it difficult to relate to people on a normal level but never have I heard them describe the characteristics of the Captain, who for reasons that will become apparent I cannot name. I’m going to call him Capt. Pratt but please feel free to replace this name with the expletive of your choice as I guarantee it will be a more fitting descriptive. I am also unable to disclose his nationality so let me just say he probably doesn’t like English people, his choice of bread is long and thin and his breath stinks of garlic and frogs.

J2
On the whole we've found the American travellers that we've met along the way to be well balanced, good natured and easy to get along with, despite them sometimes being given a bad reputation. This had led me to wonder where this bad mouthing had come from until I met J2. A giant in body and volume and of Chinese decent, J2 has an ‘I must be heard at all times’ kind of persona and muscles Arnie would be proud of. His first self introduction was jokingly asking us to bring along narcotics for him and announcing his ex heroin addiction, but maybe he’d mellow a little once we were at sea?

The boat was the only one sailing to Panama for at least a week so we were keen to take it despite the minority of bad personalities on board and after a closer Angie inspection it looked in good shape, albeit in the dark. At this point a couple from Japan dropped out due to there being no air conditioning on board (his girlfriend also wasn't too impressed about having to take her high heels onboard). I’m still not really sure what they were expecting. Everyone else confirmed they were going and agreed to meet the next day at 2pm.


It wasn’t long into the sailing that we noted that Capt. Pratt could not distinguish his left from his right, but it was too late, we'd raised the sails and set out into open water and I was at the wheel. For reasons only know to himself Capt. Pratt spoke in very bad English instead of Spanish, a language he is able to speak and most of us could understand. He shouted left but pointed right and shouted right and grabbed the wheel to turn it left, clearly thinking we were all idiots. We soon realised it would be an interesting, at best, journey.

As the sun went down the wind picked up and the sea became incredibly rough; creating huge waves that smashed the boat around by 90 degrees at a time - in short it was terrifying. On a funnier note below deck; Charlotte got a fit of the giggles whilst being attacked by a falling cabbage in her bed (who puts a hanging fruit and veg basket above a bed anyway?) and Angie somehow survived the barrage of fruit, books and random items that fell on her whilst she was trying to get some sleep (I think she may have been praying at this point). Emma's cries of 'SEA WATER, SEA WATER' as the waves lashed through the window onto her and Marc's bed made me chuckle as well. However things had turned quite serious above deck, with the main sail ripping and the boon swinging around nearly knocking the lads off deck - scary!

Anyway, we made it through the night and I awoke to take my shift at the wheel, steering the boat into sunshine and calmness. We were all relieved and relaxed that afternoon - although the corned beef pasta wasn't a big hit with everyone - and thought about arriving at the paradise San Blas islands the next morning - little did we know that we'd arrive somewhere else much earlier than thought, with a bang!

It was 2am and we awoke to an awful screeching sound as the ship's hull scraped along rocks that we'd just crashed into and later found out to be mainland Panama, yes we'd crashed into a country! By this point I think most of us were too tired and jaded to be scared, although a confused Mary did run around shouting 'ABANDON SHIP, ABANDON SHIP!' Again very funny to look back on but at the time but horrified, Angie desperately packed her bags, and Charlotte, slightly bemused followed.

Above deck we quickly realised that we were too far from land to swim and I wouldn't have fancied our chances against the feisty waves. It turned out there wasn't a life boat but at least he had the foresight to bother bringing lifejackets - he was good like that! We took the decision to stay on the boat until first light, we were taking on a little water but better that than the alternative. We hung onto equipment on deck for an hour or so as the huge waves crashed us around, a few of us coming close to going over at times. It then started to rain so the lovely Capt. Pratt let us sit below deck. We sat on our sodden beds at a more than jaunty 30 degree angle, telling each other riddles to pass the time and to take our minds off what had happened and what could happen next...


Everything seemed a lot better in day light, luckily we'd drifted and beached ourselves about 20 metres from shore but wondering why no one had rescued us yet we asked Capt. Pratt if he had made another Mayday call, to which he retorted, "With what? Do you have a phone? I don’t", we were more thinking about using the radio that he had advertised on his website but it turns out he didn't have one of those either! Looking over the shipping maps, the genius Captain then decided that we should all trek three days across unknown territory with limited supplies to the nearest village. To this Ozzie Angie shouted in dismay, “No way, do you know how many people die each year in the outback because they left their vehicles?” I got the feeling it was a lot and although we were in slightly wetter surroundings I took her point.

Moments later luck was on our side when a group of Kuna villagers came out of nowhere onto the beach just after sunrise. Everyone was very relieved although on seeing their machetes J2 was all for taking a knife 'just in case' and proceeded to show us a death move involving stabbing someone in the heart! The villagers kindly agreed to put us up for the night - all we had to do was trek through some mangroves and get in a hollowed out tree trunk canoe for an hour or so - perfect. The captain would then take the spare seat of a 2-man plane - (the village had a grass airstrip to sell lobster to the city) and return the next day having stamped our passports and sorted some way of getting out of the village and flights for us using our money.

The whole village welcomed our arrival, intrigued they came in droves to meet us at the jetty, the children weren't so keen at first, most of them never having seen real-life white people, let alone anyone over 6ft. J2 was like a giant beast to them, but they did know of his ethnic origin dubbing him 'Chino Chino Chino'. After some heated debates with the village elders over stolen food we settled in for an edgy but amazing and some what stomach rumbling 3-night wait for the captain to return. Passing the time playing football with the kids, sharing an Oreo cookie for breakfast, hanging around in our borrowed hammocks and trying to pull the boat back on shore with the ropes of the ship. Other than the villagers having an argument with the police and a rifle being snatched from one man to the next, being suspected of smuggling drugs oh, and J2 scaring everyone to death by screaming expletives at the top of his voice in the pitch black over and over again - turns out a mouse ran up his armpit, everything went well until Capt. Pratt came back.

The Captain returned with stamped passports and nothing else other than a 'balls to you' attitude - effectively leaving us with no way of getting out of the village. Thankfully the villagers clubbed together and forced him to pay them enough to see us to Panama City via another village, a long canoe ride and a short flight. In-between times J2 threatened to murder everybody in the room if he didn't get his money back and then left for another island in another canoe. We reached Panama City four nights later tired, hungry and probably quite smelly but we were relieved to have escaped without a scratch and one amazing story and the rest as they say is history.

---

---