One merchant ship, two dugout canoes, one speed boat, one jeep through the jungle and tow busses.

 (Ryan) 

We told many that we might try to hike through the Darien Gap (In the south of Panama all roads come to an end, there is a "gap" between Panama and Columbia that can only be crossed by a two week hike through the jungle) but two main factors decided against this. First; we have to much crap! and not the right kind for camping for the two week trek. We don't have a tent, a stove or room for provisions to last us through the jungle. The second; recent civil conflicts in Columbia has sent gorillas in the hundreds fleeing into the Darien for refuge, which makes it a very dangerous place for gringos. This left us with the two options of going further south either, that by air or water. 

Resorting to planes is my last resort (I don't see the point in traveling if your going to take planes from point to point, as many of you know), so finding a boat was our first priority. There are no scheduled passenger boats between Panama and any point south so we were directed to the commercial docks so that we might find a cargo boat that would give us passage. I left the hotel early Sunday morning and took a cab to the designated dock, the Coco Solo Pier, outside Colon. We passed the large, walled off area of the "Zona Libra", (a tax free zone for distributors and merchants) and proceeded into a ghetto far worse than that of the city of Colon. An abandon U.S. Naval barracks housed those, that guessing, didn't have means to live in Colon. Obvious drug addicts and the like were still on the streets in the wee hours of the morning. We literally had to drive through one of the building, with people standing on the second level staring down, and coming within inches of rank, half clothed people myself fearing they try to jump or stop the cab. There was trash piled head high on both sides but finally exiting and proceeding 50 yards to reach the pier. Once at the gated entrance I could see huge cargo ships unloading, and loading their goods and a  guard relayed that the next boat south wasn't leaving until Tuesday or Wednesday. 

Back at the hotel, Martyrs Day was in full effect. The restaurant was closed as well as any others in town so we were ether imprisoned in our hotel with nothing to eat or we took a bus back to Panama City and wait it out. TV, AC and McDonalds was better than our current option, and cheaper too, so we caught the next bus out of town.

We had read in our travel guide that most boats heading south left close to midnight to make it to the first of the San Blas Islands by morning. (Between Colon and the Panamanian Border there are the +365 Islands of San Blas who are inhabited by the Kuna Indians) The ride to the Coco Solo Pier in daylight is enough to make you nervous without any valuables yet we arrived at the docks on the following Wednesday near 8:00 P.M. with all our gear. Our English speaking taxi driver helped translate with the same guard that I had spoke to before. He said to come back Friday and our hears sank. Back to the hotel in Colon.

Day One: January 14

Weather: 90°± , Windy, with occasional showers even though we couldn't see any clouds

Friday morning found us bright and early at the Coco Solo Pier and we weren't leaving until we got on a boat. There waiting was a Frenchman who had ridden his mountain bike through the U.S., Mexico, all of Central America and like us was trying to find his way to South America. He didn't speak English but his Spanish was slow enough that we could understand most of what he said so we let him do the talking. He found us a Captain that was leaving that night at 3:00 A.M. and secured us a place on the Tubala-II merchant ship. During the scheduled five day trip though the San Bas Islands, we would make about 15 stops and finally arrive at the Panamanian border town of Puerto Obaldia for $30. I was eager to leave Panama and to be sure we didn't miss the boat asked if we could board early that evening. We all agreed that we would show up near 6:00 P.M. that evening. Our new French friend couldn't spare the extra days and couldn't join us but reassured us that it would be an unforgettable experience and that it was.

Our English speaking taxi driver, who served in the U.S. military, met us at the Panama Yacht Club at 5:30 p.m. and drove us for the last time through the abandoned military base to the Coco Solo Pier. We were let right through the heavily guarded gates by a nice security guard who was happy to speak English with someone. There were huge container ships everywhere and we picked one out that looked nearly new and crossed our fingers that it would be the Tubala II. As we proceed down the dock and the ships grew gradually smaller, huge none the less. Every one that we came to we asked if it were the Tubala II and everyone pointed down the pier so we would walk to the next and do the same even passing the one we had our hopes on. We were getting to the end of the pier and running out of boats when we finally spied the name Tubala II on the back of an old, wood, weathered, 50', beat up, couldn't believe it still floated, boat. Not a ship at all. Par for the course. We met out captain and crew, who were sitting around on benches with their days work done, and made our introductions. They, of coarse, spoke no English and even their Spanish was a little rusty. They were all Kuna Indians from the Island of San Blas. Full of smiles and very curious about us, they slowly creped closer and made attempts to talk to us. To break the ice, we handed out chocolates and slices of dry salami. They really liked the camera and went crazy with laughter when I took pictures of everyone. Night fell and we were lead to the top deck and told to pull up a couple pallets for beds and they motioned that if it rained, to climb under the tarp that covered the cargo. This all sounded good at first and with a few beers running through us we quickly were asleep. Some time in the middle of the night the first showers began to fall. We scurried under the tarps but found them to be a series of tarps that seemed to funnel the falling water right on my head. A while latter Dan took shelter under the pilot house roof. I stuck it out through approximately four moor squalls. 

Day Two: Jan 15

Weather: 90°± Humid with scattered showers

The generator woke me at 6:00 a.m. and I began to realize that we had not left three hours previous but were still tied to the dock. A while passed and it was finally explained that we were not leaving that day and in fact, due to high seas, we would not leave until the following night. So now it was either go to a hotel for a day or camp out on the boat for the next day and a half. Thinking economically, staying on the boat wouldn't cost us anything so we opened a book, caught some rays, and watched container ships come and go. 

The highlight of the day occurred when two tug boats were toeing a boat similar to ours, perhaps ten feet longer, through the bay. The next boat docked down the pier from us was the Tubala II's sister boat the Coosmuky. As the tugs approached, one for some reason took a hard turn towards us and the Coosmuky. Then instantly released all lines securing the toed boat. I couldn't believe when the toed boat slammed right into the side of the Coosmuky, it's bow crashing through the pilot house and tearing down many of the supports for the roof. The toed boat was now drifting in the strong current and both of the tug boats had high tailed it away. As the toed boat crashed into the second boat they were able to secure lines and bring it to a stop. Although there were a few words, calm rapidly returned as if nothing had happened.

The day came to an early end and we took over a corner of the deck covered by a roof to partly shelter us from the rain.

Day Three: Jan 16

Weather: Low 80s with strong winds producing high seas. 

This morning scurrying about the deck at about 5:30 a.m. was what woke us. before we knew it the crew were throwing of the lines and we were pulling away from the dock. Suddenly there was screaming and yelling before the sound of cracking and snapping of timbers as we hopped to our feet to see now our bow tearing through the side of the Coosmuky. Again calm quickly returned and doubts of our safe arrival began to enter my mind. Boats crashing into each other seemed to be a common occurrence. Yet we were underway and I was excited on that cloudy morning as the morning sun occasionally priced through the sky with rays of light.

Even before we made it to the breakwater the boat began to bob dramatically up and down. We knew we were in store for some rock and roll. In the open ocean the seas were huge, higher than the top of the boat and sending buckets of water in our faces despite being on the top deck. Occasionally the bow would dip and we would take on hundreds of gallons of water. Everyone had a different way of bracing for the oncoming waves and the captain worked furiously to keep the waves in front of us. If they came at us on the side it would send us violently rocking from side to side. It was quite exciting but for some reason I didn't worry, I was having a great time. I would have given a full book of E tickets to take that ride.

Four hours later we pulled into the leeward side of an island for protection. We were protected there from the wind and the waves with 15 or 20 beautiful sail boats also seeking refuge from the high seas. Staring at all of those sail boats made me die to have one myself. I saw a small sailboat with a French flag and I wondered if they had come across the Atlantic in such a small boat. If they could sail around the world in such a boat, so could I, I thought. There were other more desirable boats including a sleek 75' catamaran that looked like just what I will buy when I win the lottery.

The smiling faces of the crew gave us the first "manana" of many to come. Leading us to believe that tomorrow we would be off. I read my book and dreamed of sailing my own boat around the world.

That evening one of the crew brought us two bowls of rice and Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of something that looked like Spam. This was the first Spam that I had eaten that I knew of and despite my previous prejudices, I ate with enthusiasm. 

Night soon fell and with little else to do we went to sleep. Now for beds, Dan had a little piece of floor and I had a wood sofa without the cushions that was too short for Dan .

Day Four: Jan 17

Weather: Not too hot, and not too cold. Rather present with a slight breeze coming around the island to cool us off. Just a little too cool to swim.

The generated started today at 6:00 a.m. and there was little movement on the boat. Crew were up and brushing their teeth and peeing over the side but little else. The big engine did not start and we then heard the second "manana". We were going to stay there and wait out the high seas. We could see people in the other boats sitting on the sterns sipping coffee and our hearts sank. 

It was another day of books, and daydreams until lunch was served. A crewman brought two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and beans with a few chunks of processed meat. Then it was more reading, sunning and daydreaming until dinner of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat. the sun went down and the day was over.

Day Five: Jan 18

Weather: Calm and cool about 75°

A working frenzy woke us at 5:30 a.m. to see the crew rushing about repacking and securing all of the on deck cargo. No sooner has they finished that the big motor was started and the crew were pulling up the anchor. We were leaving Hell or high water and we wondered if one would beget the other. The seas were still nearly as high but we were pushing on. We had to pass through a channel with the waves at our side to make it to the first of the San Blas Islands and everyone had to hold on. From there we were protected by a reef and a series of islands as we arrived at the first of our scheduled stops. The Islands of San Blas are operated autonomously by the Kuna Indians with no outside pressure from the Panamanian Government. We saw a radical change in appearance from the Panamanian people and the Kuna Indians. All of the women dressed in colorful traditional clothing with beaded bracelets and their entire calf would be covered by beaded wraps. We were delivering propane gas, 55 gallon drums of gas, diesel, and kerosene, beer, soda, canned foods and parcels to individuals. Shortly after arriving someone brought Dan and I two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat. 

We were now cursing to the next island in almost lake calm water with islands connected by the outer reef on our port side and lush green volcanic mountain sides of the main land on starboard. When flocks of white birds would set off from the trees they were bright against the green tapestry of the mountain fauna. 

The Kuna Indians prefer not to live on every island but completely engulf the ones they do. They so overpopulate the islands that they live on that most of the thatched roof homes along the waterside are hanging over the edge of the island into the water. On the interior of the island there would be a maze of narrow paths between the huts with the roofs from huts on opposite sides of a path in some places almost touching in the middle making you duck as you walked through. The walls of the huts were sticks tied together with dirt floors. Everyone sleeps in hammocks to get off the damp floor. The huts being so close and almost see through in some places left little privacy. Other islands were little more than a few rocks poking from the water and there would be one or two thatched roof homes covering the entire thing. I wondered why the Kuna's would not spread to these islands and give each other a little room. Some had signs of electricity but most were with out which made batteries a hot item. Bathrooms were boards leading over the water too a small box with a hole in the bottom. 

Other islands would be the kind you dream about getting stuck on after a tough day at work. Sandy, narrow beaches, coconut trees and just enough room for you and maybe someone else. 

In all the Kuna's seemed a very happy people on their islands and I guess with few problems and little crime. I'm sure the kids are able to grow up with out the opportunity to do any drugs or get in much trouble of any kind. Everyone is very friendly and curious about foreigners. They seem to have a very strong sixth sense about them too. I could pick one out 100 yards away and zoom my camera up to them, the person would quickly turn and look right into the camera and scurry for cover. It happened so many times I was amazed.

We proceeded to a few other islands and at 4:30 we were told we were at the last of the day and that it was time to eat. We headed down to the galley and had two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat. A little reading before bed and the lights go out.

Day Six: Jan. 19

Weather: Calm and cool.

The big motor started and we were off to the next island. We would arrive at the pier and anyone needing anything would board and come up to the pilot house to place their orders. They would return to the dock and wait for their orders to be filled. Some islands conducted themselves drastically different that others. Most of the first islands, customers would board orderly and place their orders yet others were complete mayhem. Before the boat would reach the dock people were leaping onto the sides and climbing up to the pilot house. Although there was a lot of pushing and shoving everyone had a smile and no tempers flared.

At the second island we were told that lunch was ready so we headed down for two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat.

We made it to one more island and called it a day. Dinner was ready and we had two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat. The smiling crew faces all said "manana" leading us to believe that we would be at our destination the next day and we were excited about the next boat that we would need to make it the other half of the way to Cartagena, Columbia.

Day Seven: Jan. 20

Weather: Calm and cool.

See Day Six

Day Eight: Jan 21

See Day Seven.

The only other occurrence on this day was that we found out that the old tattered wood chairs and sofa that we had been lounging on were actually cargo and were delivered to someone who wasn't happy to see us living on them. No more bed.

We also pick up another passenger who is traveling, a German guy named Andres. 

Day Nine: Jan 22

Weather: High 70's beautiful

At our first stop we are fortunate to find a bakery/ store that has coffee. The first in ten days. Although it was instant, it was delicious.

At the second stop we ran into two couples on separate sail boats who are traveling through the Caribbean and headed to Panama. One couple is from Texas and the other from Florida. We spent some time talking with the Florida couple who have been traveling and sailing since 1986. Their current trip through the Caribbean was started in 1994. Wow! That sure sounded good to me. Back at the boat it was lunch time and we had two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat.

The next island was the home port and island of the Tubala II, Isla Tubala. As we neared the dock the boat not so much as slowed down and people jumped off in a hurry and we were back on the gas and headed back to where we came. It was quite confusing at first but we finally learned that the Coosmuky was in some trouble and we were going to rescue her.

The Tubala II was not built for speed but we made our way as best we could. Soon we could see a boat in the distance and we drew near. When we were close enough we saw the Coosmuky about ten yards from a reef with two dugout canoes with 15 hp motors trying to pull her away. They were losing against the tides and current miserably. As we approached crew from both boats jumped in the water to exchange ropes. It was total chaos! The Coosmuky was rapidly drifting closer to the reef and the first of the toe ropes broke. More crew jumped in the water to secure lines and soon we were pulling the Coosmuky to safety. Eventually we were able to get her close enough to the docks of an island who's members pulled here in. We had to do some fancy boat work to stay off the reef ourselves but we were soon enough headed back to Tubala. Back at the dock we were told that dinner was ready so headed down to the galley for two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat. After dinner I was escorted to a bucket of water for the first "shower" in ten days, my record.

Soon word got around the entire island and everyone wanted to see the pictures of the dramatic rescue of the Coosmuky. No, really! Everyone! I tried to show the pictures to the group but it became a frenzy of pushing and shoving to see the camera. I was in the middle with people crowding in 365° around me. The children would crawl under everyone's legs push up in the middle. I had to retreat to the shelter of the boat. We had peace for a short while but slowly people would sheepishly board the boat and slowly make their way to our corner of the top deck and ask to see the "calicula" (camera). As soon as I would bring it out to boat would get swarmed and I would have to put it away. We were finally rid of our guests and Mario the captain returned to the boat and reassured us that indeed we would be in Puerto Obaldia tomorrow. By now were not going to believe it until we see it.

Day Ten: Jan 23

Weather: Warming up! About 85°

Captain Mario starts the day with a big smile and tells us that we will be in Puerto Obaldia tomorrow. No big surprise. We go to one island that day then back to Tubala. We are beginning to wonder if we will ever make it out of panama and off this boat. It's been ten days on a five day trip including ten days to finally line up the boat in the first place. I was ready to leave Panama 20 days ago and we can't seem to get out. There is talk that we aren't going to Puerto Obaldia but captain Mario reassures us that we will be there tomorrow. Lunch is ready so for now we wont worry. We have two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat.

Dan is out of reading material and feeling very antsy. I still have a book and am trying not to fight the trip. I have decided to take what comes and enjoy it. It certainly could be worse. We were on a boat, with beautiful weather, beautiful, picturesque scenery and two filling, delicious meals of two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat a day. And it wasn't costing us anything. Despite all these pluses, an overwhelming feeling of entrapment kept creeping in to our psyches. The not know was eating us up and we began to make alternate plans. There were many small airports with island hopper planes that could take us to Puerto Obaldia or we could get someone with a small power boat to take us. I decided not to worry until tomorrow. 

Day Eleven: Jan 24

Weather: Upper 80's

We are definitely not going anywhere soon. The crew is unloading all remaining cargo and cleaning the boat as the first reports come in. One says that we are not going to Puerto Obaldia but the boat is returning to Colon. Another says that we will stay there until Friday then continue on to Puerto Obaldia. All the while Captain Mario is nowhere to be seen. The crew says that he had a big fiesta the previous night and wouldn't be around until late in the afternoon. We feel like prisoners awaiting a boat to come along and be sold into slavery. We are a little edgy but hold out till afternoon to see what happens. The cleaning stops long enough for lunch and we have two bowls of rice with a little Van Camps Pork and Beans with a few chunks of an unknown processed meat.

After lunch we decide we aren't leaving on the Tubala II and that we certainly can't wait until Friday to see if we will leave then. We walk the island looking for a motorboat to hire for the remaining journey. No luck. Back at the boat we see powered dugout canoes passing by the island and our heats sink. Finally one come to the dock and we ask if he will take us and surprisingly he will. For Dan, myself, and the Andres it will be $40. There is no point in haggling we are glad just to be going. Quick good-byes and we are moving again. I have the computer and camera wrapped in plastic the best I can but I am terrified that the little boat will tip when we head out into the open sea. There are reports that the seas have risen again which is one of the excused that we received for not making the trip aboard the Tubala II.  The trip to Puerto Obaldia is supposed to take two and a half hours so we plan on three and a half. The seas do turn out to be high but despite leaks in the canoe that require constant bailing, the little boat handled the sea surprisingly well. The dugout canoe was small enough not to be effected by the big waves and simply and effortlessly drifted over them. There isn't much shifting of your weight and we were sitting on 2X4s which made for a sore but. The weather was clear and the view of the coast were spectacular.

We timed it right, three and a half hours, and despite being weary from the whole trip, were overjoyed to be so close to being into the next country. 

Through a military check point then into a cheap hotel and a real meal in a cafe. I was so thirsty, I slammed three sodas down instantly. A shower, then collapse into bed.

I know I haven't said much about our German traveling companion so I will try to some him up here. He was by far the friendliest German traveler we have met yet always wanting to chat or complain about the unfair treatment of travelers. He preferred to eat with is hands and when I asked him why the conversation went like this.

Ryan-What's the matter don't you like forks?

Andres- No. I like to use my hands. You know, its quite difficult to eat with your hands and not get food all over yourself?

Ryan- Yes, I know, That's why someone invented a fork.

Many of the conversations were like that.

Day Twelve: Jan. 25

Weather: Overcast but warm

The migration offices were closed by the time we had arrived the previous night, and we needed exit stamps before legally entering Columbia so we were up early to get stamped and into Columbia. The migration office, scheduled to open at 7:00 a.m., opened at about 8:20 a.m. and we effortlessly received our exit stamps without having to pay any unofficial service fees, which was nice.

The reports that there would be other Columbian merchant ships here turned out to be false and the only thing we could get was another dugout canoe to take us to the next town across the border and into Columbia. The price was $40 again but we were going less than half the distance as the last trip. Negotiations proved fruitless even though Andres continued to haggle right up to the point of stepping into the boat. He wasn't excepting that life wasn't always fair.