San Blas Islands
PANAMA
Panama to Colombia via San Blas and the Stahlratte
By AARON
Monday, August 18, 2008
So after saying a not-so-sentimental goodbye to Panama City, Lyndi and I – along with 13 others – took a shuttle at 6am to San Blas. The 4 hour journey gave us ample time to “size up” our shipmates and get to know each other before spending 5 days on a boat together. Reaching San Blas around 11:30am, we were now in Kuna territory, which are the local indigenous people that live in the area and are not subject to the governmental laws of Panama. In short, the Kuna govern themselves. We then boarded a boat that apparently was built sans physics in mind, a sturdy 15ft wide topsy turvy boat that seemed to rock back and forth, threatening to dump us in the crocodile inhabited river at any moment. This marvel of ancient boat-building took us near the main islands of San Blas, where most of the Kuna live, and where our ship, the Stahlratte, was docked.
The Stahlratte is a German run ship, with a crew of 4 that consists of Ludwig (captain), Andrew, Katia, and Guillermo. Ludwig has been sailing since he was a kid, and while most boats that offer to take travelers to Colombia boast an average 40ft length, the Stahlratte dwarfs them all at a commanding lenth of 40 meters. At 100 years old, it was originally a fishing vessel, and has been overhauled many times over the years into the able-bodied ship it is now – capable of circumnavigating the world, which is the long-term plan of the captain. Ludwig is an excellent captain, who has equipped his boat with state-of-the-art navigational equipment, and has a great smile and an even greater sense of humor. Andrew is a great cook, has a cool mohawk, and through the accidental discovery of Lyndi, likes to sleep in the nude. Katia is extremely knowledgable and seaworthy, and always has a pleasant demeanor about her. Guillermo is from Argentina, and is about the easiest person to get along with.
So upon boarding the Stahlratte, everyone got situated below deck in their respective bunks, and went topside where we we met the crew and were told of our itinerary: 3 days in gorgeous San Blas anchored 100m from 2 uninhabited tropical islands, then 30 hours on the open sea to Cartagena. Sweet.
With the 2 huge anchors pulled up, the Stahlratte set off for the 3 hour journey to the islands where we would reside for the next 3 days. With a total of 19 people on board, the one thing that amazed me most was that you never felt cramped. Everyone got to know each other even more, quickly learning that we were a mix of Americans, Germans, Irish, New Zealanders, and Japanese. However easily this could have turned into a wicked WWIII, everyone put their differences aside and found the uniting common denominators amongst us:
1. We all like to drink rum and beer.
2. We all enjoy good conversation and good food.
3. We all like to drink rum and beer.
4. If there is no rum and beer, we will somehow find 2 bottles of wine and down those while Lyndi pretends to steer an anchored ship.
By the time we arrived at the uninhabited islands, and had established our credo for the trip (“Just don’t run out of alcohol”), we were all as close as cousins in the deep south. Anchoring near some other boats who apparently had the same idea we had, I couldn’t help but wonder: out of the 360 scattered islands that make up the archipelago of San Blas, why did 3 other boats choose these 2? No worries, for we had the biggest boat, and as the saying goes “He who has the biggest boat, can make the most noise at 2am, thus scaring off all the other boats by 9am the next morning.”
Lyndi and I decided to call it an early first night, retiring only after a few rum and cokes, but the party continued topside where apparently a drunk German (Felix) took a kayak from his boat and came to ours, where he proceeded to get even more drunk – crashing on our boat for the night (strict rules on the Stahlratte: DON’T drink and kayak), and waking up the next morning having no idea where he was or who these strange people were that apparently knew him and his keen table dancing techniques. Not even saying goodbye, the scared, confused and extremely hung over red-headed German jumped in his kayak and paddled back to his boat, which was ready to leave and get out of earshot of this rambunctious group that stayed up until 4am. By 10am, we were the only boat left, and were congratulated by our captain for a job well done on clearing the area.
The day was spent swimming, snorkeling, lounging on the beach, reading, and gathering firewood for the big cookout we were to have that night on the nearby island. As 4pm approached, we took the motor powered dinghy to shore (6 at a time), and transported all the cameras, food, and alcohol to the island for what would be another long night. The menu consisted of a huge potato salad and kebabs with bacon, sausage, onion, red pepper, zucchini, and other fun items to stab on your bamboo stick. A grate was set over a large fire pit for cooking, and the festivities commenced. Around 5pm, another boat showed up, apparently acquaintances of Ludwig, and the group quickly increased from 19 to around 30 people on the island. Until 11pm, the island was a mix of conversation, guitar music, dancing, nationalities conversing, and one lady from the other boat (married, I might add), who insisted that everyone take a body shot of tequila from her. Many respectfully declined.
I remember it because it came over the island like a dark, dismal cloud of confusion and panic. I remember the frantic scurrying, the looks of desperation in the eyes of my fellow sea-mates, the bitter realization that something really, really bad had just come into fruition. We looked around at each other and although no words were spoken, we all realized the harsh reality that we had, in fact, run out of alcohol on the island…
Apparently there were only about 9 of us sober enough at this point, amidst the huge bonfire that had grown from numerous donations of wood from various patrons at the cookout, to realize that there was an alternative solution: Island = no booze, Boat = more booze! So amidst the guitar playing of Andrew and Ludwig, and the dancing and complete oblivion to his wife’s offer of body shots from the other boat captain, 9 of the 15 travelers recruited Guillermo to take us back on the dinghy to the Stahlratte, where a cooler of beer and 2 bottles of (someone’s) wine waited for us, calling to us like sirens in the days of Odysseus.
Back on the boat, we settled in to the main table on deck, which was a main meeting place for talking, eating, and later on that night, dancing. We were there for about 45 minutes when it dawned on us that there were possibly other people, perhaps our other 6 companions, who would like to come back to the boat, or “Bar Stahlratte” as we had come to call it. Before Guillermo could even get out of his seat though, we heard some splashing and talking near our boat. Turns out our other 6 friends were tired of waiting, and equally tired of turning down body shots from what could have been their grandmother, and decided to swim in pitch black, about 200 yards back to the boat.
The rest of the night was a blur, consisting of dancing on the main table, playing a hand slap game that takes an IQ of 40, but somehow befuddled us all, and me doing magic tricks making things disappear by simply throwing them behind me, but amazing at least one onlooker (yes you, Linda) with my David Copperfield-esque abilities. Oh yeah, and Lyndi steering an anchored ship.
Next morning was what I like to call recovery day, as everyone slept in, slept some more, and ate little which was good considering it was my day to cook. That night we ate like kings as Ludwig bought fresh fish and lobster from the Kuna fisherman in the area, and we dined on that along with fresh french fries, salad, rice and much more.
Next morning the boat set off at 5am for the 30 hour journey to Cartagena. Although some got seasick on the trip, I can’t help but wonder how much worse it would have been on a ship 1/3 the size. That day was spent reading, laying on the deck, and trading pictures and stories from the bonfire and cookout, with a promise to trade pictures and omit others. The night, at least for me and a couple others, was spent on the deck mesmerized at the number of stars that lit up the Caribbean sky, with the Milky Way as a white, shadowy backdrop to the black canvas full of stars and faraway planets. Coming from a major city in the U.S., the “competing light” drowns out so much of the night sky, that only in the open country and the open sea can one fully appreciate the heavens and realize just how small a space we live in on this seemingly large planet.
Next morning we woke up to the coastline of Cartagena, Colombia just miles off our bow. We arrived in the bay around 10:30am, and although we were promised a long immigration entry by our captain, who had done this numerous times with the Colombian government, the immigration official somehow took a liking to this ragtag group of mixed nationalities and had our passports back to us on the boat in less than 2 hours (it had taken as long as 7 in previous visits). Before tendering to the shores of Cartagena, we enjoyed another brilliant fresh fish lunch, courtesy of Arran, one of the Irish on board who caught a 5 foot barracuda-like fish the day before.
Needless to say, aside from two of our older shipmates not bathing the entire trip, all of us got along great and truly enjoyed each others’ company as was proved in Cartagena, as we continued to hang out with each other for the next 2 nights. Around 2pm, we said a sad goodbye to the crew of the Stahlratte, promising to give them nothing but good marks for a beautiful experience on the open seas and on the islands of San Blas.
