Paradiso?

The boat is a charming 60-year old, 40-feet fishing boat, oozing character but lacking the grace or beauty of a sailing boat. The French captain is a scruffy chap of 49 years who generally has a fat tube of marijuana poking out of his chapped lips. He has the weathered look of a man who has spent his life at sea. Californian, and bulging muscles from her tiny frame is the Captain's wife, Dag. She is never still, at times suspended high in the air hanging from the mast, hauling the sail or gutting fish on the deck. She expels hyperactive energy and demands attention. My first impression of her is one of dislike, but over the course of the next few days my feelings become at little more sympathetic. Together they have produced a six-year old son, an unforgettable character who has inherited the energy of his mother, the charm of his father and a lack of patience from both. Luis, a tiger whisperer who has left the Colombian circus to join the Panamanian circus is our deck hand. Fifteen unsuspecting backpackers and two motorbikes wait at Club Nautico in Cartagena, Colombia ready to set sail for Panama across the Caribbean ocean.

The not-so-beautiful boat

At 5pm, we board our vessel. Our main backpacks are dropped in the hold for the next four days. We carry a small day pack with basic necessities: suncream, bikini, towel, snacks, rum etc. All food and water is included in the price - $330 after bargaining.

Dinghy from shore to ship

We wait patiently until the Captain of the Port arrives, a fat Colombian kitted in misfitting navy dungarees. He calls out our names and ticks off his list. He begins asking which of us are couples. One pair. Then he asks Helena whether she would sleep with him? No. Then, how do we feel about sleeping with strangers off the street? At this point we are looking at each other, confused, not quite catching his drift. He continues to say that this group of people are little-more than strangers off the street, yet in such close, over-crowded quarters we are being forced to sleep side-by-side like chickens in a coop. We nod in agreement. This is not what we signed up for. The Captain promised no more than 8 people and now here we are 15 tourists, 1 deck hand, a family of three and two motorbikes. Greed has taken over and there are not enough beds for everyone. In one small dorm room, 9 people will attempt to sleep - two in a bed or zig-zagged across the floor.

We discuss the situation and decide that it is too much hassle to leave now and start the process of finding a new boat once again (we have been waiting to leave Cartagena for almost one week). Adam, Helene, Marie and myself sleep on the boat while moored in the harbour. The other backpackers return to shore. With four people, the dorm room it is HOT but we manage to get some rest until 5.30am......

We enjoy our last views of the sunset in Cartagena

We wake to the sounds of the child yelling and the mother screaming back in a similar fashion, using all kinds of obscenities. Fellow travelers arrive at 7am in time for an Argentine-style breakfast of pastries and coffee. The first major hitch occurs with the anchor and 5 men's inability to move it. It is well and truly stuck in the seabed and takes almost two hours to dislodge. The rest of us wait patiently, trying our hardest not to get in the way.

Attempts to haul the anchor

The screaming, obscenities and expressed frustration continue during this period (and during the remainder of the trip!). Eventually the boat is set free, and we spend the following hour at the 'gas station' filling up with fuel and water (we feel this should have been taken care of ahead of time).
Our estimated time of departure of 8am, quickly becomes 11am. Never mind, the group has gelled well in this time and the view over the city of Cartagena is never dull. Coincidentally almost everyone in the group is 25/26 years old and have many things in common.

Getting to know one another!

This may look like tea....

The Captain & Luis
Dag, the navigator

Helene, myself & Marie, enjoying the calm before the storm

The group consists of....Gemma, Peggy, Alice and Jess from Melbourne; Frank and Masha from New York City; Isaac from Alaska; Rob from Canada; Scott from England; Pierre and Gregory from Lille, France; and finally the most excited of the lot, Helene, Marie, Adam and myself!!

The first couple of hours at sea are pleasant. The girls are tanning on the front deck, the boys are sitting in the shade with beers. The child runs around knocking people on the head with his plastic sword and unties the girls bikinis. Marie and I discover that he loves drawing - aha, a secret weapon of distraction! We get an hour of peace, and a few more hours of sunshine.

Until rather suddenly the winds pick up. Sunbathers begin to slither around the deck and walking becomes almost impossible. The waves begin to crash over the bow, and people begin to feel unwell.

Dag prepares a rice and tuna lunch, easy on the stomach she says. Poor Masha is vomiting over the side of the boat when a wave smacks her in the face, landing her back on deck with a thump. Most of us feel at least a little queasy. The next few hours consist of laying on our backs to avoid excessive movement or concentrating profusely on any given task such as going to the bathroom (of which there the is only one, Dag cannot afford a new pump for the 2nd toilet she says). The waves continue, killing sociability on deck. The child continues to be demanding and wild. Dag's true personality is revealed over the course of the day, treating us the same way she speaks to her son with little patience or rationality. At times she is friendly and pleasant, but she can snap at any moment. In the evening, hot dogs are served which surprisingly make us feel better. That night I sleep in the dorm and my body temperature rises to all-time high, so much so that my (cheap) nail polish actually melts from my nails! This is one of the most unpleasant nights of my life. I snatch a few naps, but spend most of the night feeling claustrophobic, sea-sick and angry.

The following day the waves continue. Adam has gathered up all the flying-fish that landed on deck and is preparing to use them as bait later on. The child throws my flip flops in the sea when I am resting. Isaac from Alaska falls down the stairs. Then the child throws one of Isaac´s flip flops in the sea. He is sent to his room for 30 minutes and returns even more full of energy and mischief. The sun comes out in the late afternoon and the waves are calmer. Everyone is feeling happier, San Blas islands are in the not-too-distant future. As we approach the archipelago some dolphins race the boat! They playfully leap and dive around the boat in twos and threes.

Credit to Adam for this great shot!

We arrive at San Blas, dive into the water and swim to the nearest island. We snorkel and relax on the beach - what freedom to be off the boat.

San Blas islands
Swimming ashore

Pierre is quick it dive in

We are delighted to be back on land!

San Blas islands are famous as the local Kuna Indian tribe were the only people to reist the Spanish invasion. The islands themselves are not under Panamanian law but rather the rule of the Kuna king who dictates what goes on.

Tonight I sleep on deck with a sheet, the rain pounds down and an electric storm lights up the sky. I decide to brave the elements, I cannot face that dorm-room downstairs again. I am achy the next morning, and have acquired a cold (unsurprisingly!).

Next day the weather is cloudy and we find out that we are out of oil and the dinghy´s outboard engine is broken. We are stranded here beside these three islands until further notice. Dag attempts to blame us for the fact that the outboard is broken, and inappropriately tells us that we can find out own way to the shore by waving down passing boats! I feel my blood boil at this statement - we certainly did not pay this much money to be treated like this! She calms down, and herself and the Captain come up with some kind of plan. The rest of us backpackers are used to travel delays and waste no time in spending the day reading, swimming and snorkeling around the nearby reefs (and avoiding Dag and her mood swings wherever possible!). We have plenty of food onboard and it looks like the sun may appear from behind the clouds so there is not cause for concern. Marie, Greg and myself row 40 minutes across to the tiniest island (which looks exactly how I might have drawn a desert island as a child!). We snorkel around admiring the beautiful fish, coral and a small reef shark!! Wow!

We row back to the boat and hear the good news - the engine is fixed and we have received oil from ashore! We are moving on to another location, closer to Puerto Lindo (our final destination). Along the way we get into a party mood, blasting music and drinking rum!

Captain & DJ Adam

Wohooo...we have survived!!

Back on the boat Adam gets fishing (later I catch two!)
Dag gets gutting (I do not offer to help)

And the result...fresh fish for dinner, followed by freshly baked brownies!! hmmm

The party continues.....and we pump music and dance for hours (Luis, tiger whisperer, bottom-right)

Marie eating fresh coconut
Adam

Group shot, with myself featuring a rather cool headlamp bracelet

Again I sleep on deck along with a couple of others. More lightening and rain! Next morning, some people are leaving the boat here to catch a flight to Panama City from one of the local island airports. The motorbikes need to be brought ashore to clear customs. What a mission!

Getting two motorbikes from boat, to dinghy, to shore is not easy

Customs cleared for those leaving the boat now, our group is smaller and we are ready to complete the final leg of our journey to Puerto Lindo. It is a pleasant ride. We swim for the last time once we arrive and pack our bags ready to be brought ashore in one very overcrowded dinghy with ALL our belongings and valuables. My heart thumps as the boat sways and poor Luis lands in the water! I clutch my laptop and passport with a tight grip, praying that the boat does not topple. At last we are ashore!

Puerto Lindo

The scariest part of the journey

The happy family return to shore

Once at Puerto Lindo, we head to Wunderbar hostal where apparently we can clear emigration. For the next few days regular emigration is closed because it is voting season, so our fingers are crossed that we will be able to make it through (otherwise we will have to wait for 4 days!). Four hours later, the guy from emigration arrives and we get our passports stamped.

Boredom sets in & Helene begins catching peanuts

We have a nice octopus dinner by the sea

We sleep at the Wunderbar hostal on orthopedic mattresses and have the best night´s sleep in weeks! We rise early and catch the bus to Colon, and then on to Panama City. We have heard terrible things about how dangerous both places are so we are all a little apprehensive.

Waiting for the bus to Colon

The boat trip has certainly been an adventure, a roller-coaster of highs and lows. We are lucky we had such a great bunch of people aboard - we all got on well and were able to laugh at every disaster that occurred. When I imagined sailing the Caribbean from Colombia to Panama this is not at all what I expected....although it certainly was has been one unforgettable journey! We wave goodbye to Luis, the sweetest and most patient Colombian I have met, and wish him luck as he leaves one circus for another.