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Calling at Panama's beautiful Islands of San Blas, Colombia's Isla Providencia, isolated Vivario Cays and Cayo Medio Luna in the Bay of Honduras and the shallow and reefstrewn Waters of Belize P A N A M A Porto Bello is famous from the days of Sir Francis Drake and Henry Morgan. We were anchored just outside the old fort ruins with canons glaring right down on us. Also, situated here, is the church that houses the famous Black Christ. The church is just barely standing. It has been rotting away and the roof is in a precarious condition. Major repair work has just started, and they may be able to salvage it before it tumbles down. Still standing is the framework of the treasure house, which was used for storage of the gold from Peru which was brought over the Camino Real from Panama City by mule train. The treasures were kept here until the galleons from Spain arrived. Sir Francis Drake, who ironically died from cholera and not in battle, was buried at sea near a little island off the entrance to the bay. The island now bears his name, Isla Drake. Three large stone forts guard the entrance to the harbour. All are overgrown and moss covered now, but still in good shape underneath. Henry Morgan plundered and sacked Porto Bello in 1668. Unfortunately, not much has been done over the years to maintain this historic site. The treasure house is slowly being restored with a grant from Spain, but the rusty canons and overgrown forts are being neglected. In some cases, new houses are even built right on top of the ruins! Then we came to the beautiful San Blas Islands, a group of 365 coconut clad, sandy islets surrounded by coral reefs, reminiscent of the South Pacific. The San Blas Islands are home to the Kuna Indians, the second smallest race on earth after the African Pygmies. The Kuna have managed to preserve intact much of their culture. Theirs is a matriarchal society - young men marry into the bride's family, the women run the households and handle the money, allocating tasks to the men, who are mainly responsible for fishing and the coconut trade with Colombia. We spent 8 days cruising in these islands, but could quite happily have stayed there for weeks. The Kuna Indians are beautiful people and they have a very well organized society. We were fortunate to get a closer look at the life and customs of these natives through a unique experience. We arrived at Cayos Chichime around 4 in the afternoon, groping our way in through the reefs to find a safe spot to put down the hook. Paddling towards us in a small dugout cayuko, a young Indian gestured us into a different bay, and when he came closer, we heard him call in perfect English: "Over here - here is a safer anchorage for your boat!" We were quite amazed, but followed his advice, as locals usually know better. No sooner had we anchored than he was alongside with another cayuko and two Kuna women offering their molas for sale. The Kuna women have classic, almost Egyptian features and an elegant posture. They wear the wealth of the family on their bodies, gold in the nose and ears, colourful bead bracelets covering ankles and arms and native dress consisting of red and yellow cotton headdress, blue and yellow sarong-type skirt and the traditional multicoloured mola blouse. Surprisingly, they have short, Vidal Sassoon style haircuts, the only influence evident from the outside world. The mola is hand made with several layers of different colour cloth, using the reverse applique technique. The hand stitching is very fine and the patterns range from traditional geometric styles to more recent motives of nature, animal, bird and sealife. Originally, the mola was just used as clothing by the Kuna women, but now they have become a popular souvenir of primitive art, so the women make them for sale, having found a market for them among tourists from the western world.
So we were not surprised when they came out to the boat with their molas. We had been advised by other yachties that we should go ashore to their village and do our shopping there, since the selection would be better, and we would also get to meet the locals. So we told the young man, Frank, and the women that we would come ashore after a quick rest and cleanup. It was then that Frank came with a plea to us - "would we please be quick, because a village elder had died that morning, and they were waiting for help to get him across to an island 8 miles away before dark". They were not sure whether they would be able to find transportation for the body in time. They also needed money to buy rice and coffee for the funeral, so they were anxious to sell some molas... If we would come in right away, we would be invited into their house to see the dead man, which would be a rare experience...
Needless to say, we were quite anxious to sample this experience. When we got in, we were greeted by a large display of molas hanging from clothes lines and lying on the ground. We were mesmerized by the beauty, variety, artistic imagination and bright colours of the molas. We had trouble making a choice. While dickering, we were ushered into a simple palapa hut with dirt floor. There, right in the middle of the room was the dead man lying in a hammock, fully dressed with his head neatly tied in a white kerchief. He was tiny, tiny, and they said very, very old. They had laid him to rest, with a kerosene lamp burning by his head and candles and incense flickering and smoldering throughout the one room hut, which housed the whole family. Children were milling about, and the presence of the dead man did not seem to bother them - it was all very natural. The conversation turned to the funeral, and it became clear to us that it was urgent for them to get the man over to Cartis Island for a "Liberation of the Spirit" ritual within 24 hours of his death. From a practical point of view, it was also very hot, so it was obvious that they would want the burial to take place without delay. Spontaneously, we offered to take the man over, and they literally jumped on the offer. After that, things happened very rapidly. We only had 2 hours before dark, and with 8 miles to go, we needed that time. We quickly chose two molas, paid them $40 so they could do their shopping for the funeral, and took off to lift anchor. Within 20 minutes, Frank was back at the boat in his cayuko with the dead man in the hammock, wrapped in a large piece of sail cloth and tied at the head and feet to a long wooden stick, which was obviously normally used as a mast. They hoisted the body up on our foredeck and lashed it down together with an old beaten up suitcase containing all his worldly belongings, which were to be buried with him. The case was very light.... The man's family also came along - his 28-year-old niece, her five children, an older woman and Frank. They clambered aboard in their costumes, bringing with them bags of clothing, bowls of smoked fish, bread and bananas - all quite dirty and smelly - we couldn't help but think that we would have cockroaches onboard after it was all over... (we were wrong, thank God!).... The youngest child was in diapers and being breastfed. The children were so well behaved and very quiet. Unfortunately, we were not able to communicate too well with the women since they only speak Kuna. We did have a long conversation with Frank, however, whose English was excellent since he had lived in the U.S. for 3 years. He was an amazing man. During the two hour crossing, he entertained us with tales of the Kuna nation, their customs, daily living, etc. etc., the most educational and fascinating two hours we have had for a long, long time. It was a unique experience since he was able to relate to us having lived in the western world, and he instinctively knew what we would find interesting, strange, funny etc. etc. It was an exquisite time. He also translated so we had a chance to communicate a little with the women and children. Frank, whose Kuna name was Braulio, was an excellent sailor, knew the waters well and piloted us through all the rocks and reefs to Cartis, an island of 2000 people. When we arrived just before dark, the whole village was down at the dock welcoming us. They were not aware of our cargo until one of the Kuna women came paddling out to us to sell molas. She was quite shocked when Frank sent her in to get help. Within minutes, men from the village came out to the boat and helped hoist the dead man into their cayuko. At that point, the women onboard suddenly started howling - the first time they had showed any emotion. We felt it was a bit of a show for the villagers... So this was our experience with the Kuna nation. We could elaborate on hundreds of other happenings we had while we were there, but I could go on forever. Suffice it to say that the dead man had a wake before he was escorted in a cayuko flotilla up the river inland to be buried in his hammock, suspended underground with his beaten up suitcase.... The funeral party left at 5 o'clock in the morning so they could get up the river before the women started their washing for the day... We also met the chief of the village who thanked us for our help. Frank took us to see the assembly hall where they have meetings every day so they can deal with problems as they occur. We were very impressed at their organizational abilities - we have a lot to learn from the Kunas, and are privileged to have met Frank, who is destined to become a Chief. On May 12, we forced ourselves to hoist anchor and left the San Blas Islands. The next trip was to be a three day straight run to Isla Providencia, about 270 miles to the north north-east. Isla Providencia is a tiny island lying all by itself way out in the middle of nowhere about 200 miles off the Nicaragua Coast but strangely belonging to Colombia. It is a beautiful little island, about 5 x 2 miles big with about 4000 happy inhabitants. Many are direct descendants from the early pirates who were the first to settle here. Britain gave the island to Spain in 1786, and in 1822 it became a Colombian possession. Miraculously, the English language has survived. It is, however, difficult to understand, as it is a mixture of Creole and the English that was spoken in the 17th century. Most people, particularly the younger generation, speak Spanish also. We met an older gentleman here whose name was Morgan, guess who his ancestor was?! There is only one road running around the island, and open buses (pick-up trucks with benches), provide roundtrip service at $1 per person, all other places is 50 cents. The island was surrounded by coral reefs about 1/4 - 1 mile offshore, fantastic protection from rough weather and the open sea. We spent a memorable evening at "Morgan's Head" Restaurant with cruiser friends, entertained by the chef of the establishment, who produced an excellent crab casserole, specialty of the island. He was definitely a gourmet cook - and unquestionably gay. Even isolated spots like Isla Providencia attract these fellows - watch out San Francisco! After only a couple of days, our "schedule" forced us to push off again since our friend from Vancouver, Nicole McRae was meeting us in Belize on May 29. We still had close to 600 miles to go, and wanted to stop at a few places on the way. Cayo Media Luna in Honduras had been recommended to us as a very nice rest stop with excellent snorkeling. We arrived where it was supposed to be, according to the chart, early in the morning after a fast overnighter (130 miles). The problem was, however, that we couldn't see the cay anywhere! At 7 o'clock, Anne checked in to the Central America Breakfast Net and reported our position as Half Moon Cay off the coast of Honduras, no more than a rock in the middle of nowhere. Another cruiser came on the radio saying that they had tried to find it a few weeks earlier, but never did! This got us really curious and we were bound and determined to find it! Our GPS is very accurate so we motored very slowly towards the charted latitude/longitude location, watching our depth sounder very carefully. And voila - out in the middle of nowhere, there it was - a tiny piece of rock sticking out of the water. It turned out that 99% of the cay, which is an extensive coral reef, is just under the water surface, and correctly enough, shaped as a half-moon! At Cayo Media Luna we had an incredible experience. We dropped the anchor in 15 feet of water about 300 feet north and west of the cay, assuming that if the wind picked up, it would be the prevailing easterly trade wind, and the reef would protect us from any heavy seas. In the absence of any land, there would, of course, be no protection from the wind. It was a funny feeling lying at anchor right out in the middle of the ocean with nothing in sight - just water and the small 2 foot square piece of coral. We had a very pleasant day and evening, but at 5 o'clock the next morning, we were rudely awakened by a torrential rain squall, and guess what, gusty winds from the north! This put us to the windward of the reefs. We could hear the anchor rattling on the corals and the depth sounder was reading 6 - 7 feet (we draw 6.5). The rain was so heavy and the wind so strong that we couldn't see where the reefs were, but knew that we must have been dragging, and got the engine started up. I think we experienced the worst half hour on our whole trip trying to motor slowly into the wind and waves to prevent the anchor from dragging further and keep us from drifting onto the reef - which would have cut the bottom of NOR SIGLAR in pieces. I could barely see Anne on the bow giving me hand directions towards the anchor. In half an hour, the nightmare was over. Then the wind and rain stopped just as suddenly as it started, and the sun came up. Again, we had learned a good lesson: Never anchor to windward of any potential obstructions. At the time, we didn't really know that squalls could come out of the north, but we should have known! By the time we had re-anchored it was 0655, and Anne, soaking wet, had to go on the Ham Radio as the net controller at 0700. I must say I admired how calmly she went through the procedures of opening the net, having been close to disaster just minutes before. She then reported our position and what we thought of Half Moon Cay! "See it is to "belize" it"! By now, we felt we had had enough excitement for a while, but more challenges were in store. On our last leg to Belize, we wanted to visit Turneffe Island, a famous diving and snorkeling area. We had to go through a very narrow gap in the reef to get into the lagoon at the Lodge. According to the cruising guide, we should have 2 - 3 meters of water. We went in very slowly under power with Anne on the bow watching the depth which is very difficult in these crystal clear waters. Everything looks so shallow. Suddenly, we found ourselves "anchored" in 1.7 meters - didn't need a very long anchor line! We tried to kedge ourselves off with two anchors from the stern with engine full astern. It wouldn't budge. I went down to look, and found the keel in abt. 6 inches of mud. As luck would have it, we got stuck at low tide. The tide range in this area is only 0.5 - 1.0 feet, but it is enough to make a difference. By this time, we were quite exhausted, so knowing full well we wouldn't go anywhere, we climbed into bed for a much needed rest after a long overnighter. In the afternoon, at high tide, we barely managed to winch ourselves off, only to find ourselves stuck again while trying to find a deeper spot. Lucky again, this time a large, powerboat came along and pulled us to deeper water, with mud and sand flying from his propeller and behind us also. It sure cleaned the barnacles off the keel, but also took with it some of that expensive coating (six layers) we put on before we left. When we got stuck once more, we gave up and rowed ashore to the lodge for a much needed drink. We treated ourselves to dinner and had the specialty of the island, Conch Fritters and fried plantains. The idea of eating conch bothered us a bit, but the taste really is quite nice, similar to scallops. We had an early evening, since we had to get up at high tide, which was at 0430... Blurry eyed, we managed to sail ourselves out of the mud the next morning at 5 o'clock. No peace for the wicked... This was our introduction to sailing in the shallow waters of Belize, inside the second largest barrier reef in the world - 185 miles. The largest is the Great Barrier Reef off Australia. The next four weeks we were mostly in water depths of 2 - 3 meters. It was sure hard on the nerves! After this, we would be laughing when we had a reading of 3 meters on the depth sounder! The anchorage off Belize City was 2.5 meters at low tide which would mean that we could bump the bottom in not so large waves. We draw exactly 2.1 meters or 6.5 feet, actually a reading of 1.7 meters on the depth sounder, which we would find out the hard way later on. After picking up Nicole, we headed up to a popular cruising area called Cay Caulker and Ambergris Cay, both inside the barrier reef. Since it was too shallow to sail directly to these cays from Belize City inside the reef, we went out through the ship's channel and back in again further north through some very narrow hair-raising openings in the reef. We got very accurate GPS positions of these openings from another cruiser who had spent a couple of months in the area. Even so it wasn't much fun to surf through these cuts which were about 100 feet wide with a heavy swell from the Caribbean behind you and a depth in the openings of usually only 9 - 12 feet! Once you see the opening, which isn't easy, and start going in, you are committed. There is no turning back since there just isn't room enough to turn and the waves push you in! When we came into Ambergris Cay, with its small, pretty resort town of San Pedro, we had to anchor in about 2.5 m of water abt. 1/4 mile from the docks and beaches. Unfortunately, it started to blow very hard the second day we were there, and the heavy swell coming in through the gap prevented us from leaving when we wanted to. The controlling depth in the gap was 9 feet, which would mean we could hit the sharp corals if we happened to pass over top of one between the swells. After being "stuck" at San Pedro for 6 days, and time ticking away for poor Nicole who only had 17 days with us, we had to do something. So, after having consulted with locals, we decided to sail back down on the inside of the reef to another opening further south, even though other cruisers had told us it was too shallow. We took off, groping our way with a tiny bit of sail up and both Anne and Nicole on the bow trying to find the light and dark blue channels which denotes sandy bottom and usually deeper water - at least 2.5-3 meters! The depth sounder at times was reading 1.8 - 1.9 and my heart would almost stop till it was reading 2.5 again. Some times the boat would slow down considerably and we knew we were scraping the bottom. A Labyrinth of Corals and Reefs We tried to get out through a gap that showed enough water on our charts - but suddenly found ourselves surrounded by coral heads sharp and hard enough to break the boat open. Anne, who was on the bow, suddenly screamed and Nicole and I who were in the cockpit could also see them right below us. I read 1.7 on the depth sounder and slammed the boat in full speed astern just when we hit one. It was a terrible feeling. We managed to find our way out of this labyrinth and decided to anchor for the afternoon having had enough excitement that day. By now, we decided that it would be safer to literally plow through the sand and mud on the inside passage back to Belize City than negotiating the scary reef openings. We finally managed to get back after getting stuck several times. The best one was at a place called "Porto Stuck" which is listed as having a controlling depth of 6.0 feet at low tide! Bang on! We were lucky and managed to sail ourselves off in a strong wind on our beam. The wind stayed strong long enough to let us plow our way through about 100 feet of shallows. You could see the mud flowing behind the boat. One place we had to spend 4 hours reconnoitering in the dinghy with a lead line trying to find a deep enough channel for NOR SIGLAR to pass. Well, I guess I have covered this topic exhaustingly enough and we did manage to get Nicole out to some pretty beautiful snorkeling areas and to meet some of the interesting local fishing and lobstermen. Nicole was another wonderful visitor. We are blessed with some damn good friends who are lively, sporty, kind, entertaining, hard working and possess superior cooking skills. Nicole, like Althea Rasmussen, took over the galley on arrival, and I don't think Anne gets upset if I say that I haven't eaten so well since Althea was here last year. Dinners at "Chez Nicole" were memorable with all the dressings of a top rate gourmet restaurant. We even had deserts every day! The weather at this time of the year can get wet, but if the rain squalls come at the right time, say first thing in the morning or late afternoon, they are just beautiful for showers and we rush out on the deck and soap ourselves in and hope it lasts long enough to get rinsed. After Nicole returned to Vancouver, we have been visiting the southern most cays of Belize, done some sightseeing, snorkeling and a fair bit of boat maintenance. We are now in the Bay Islands of Honduras which are a bit like Isla Providencia. Here too, the first inhabitants were pirates and buccaneers who preyed on the Spanish treasure galleons on their way to Spain. Later, more British settlers came from other Caribbean islands to log mahogany and logwood on the Honduras mainland coast. The British brought with them a mixture of African slaves and Black Caribs. Most of the inhabitants speak English, a peculiar "olde" English dialect, almost with a Scottish/Irish lilt. Recently, the Honduran Government made Spanish only the official language in public schools. The islanders live in small picturesque settlements consisting of houses built on piles either at the water's edge or in the water on shallow reefs. Transportation is by large wooden dugout canoes called "cayukos" by the Spanish and "dories" by the English. They are run by old-fashioned single cylinder inboard engines. Tourists are just starting to "discover" these islands, but right now in the rainy season, we hardly even see any other cruisers. We have met a few young European backpackers on tight budgets. Here, they are able to get a hotel room for $2 per night and meals for another couple of dollars and the cheapest diving lessons anywhere! We plan to spend a couple of weeks in this beautiful area before we head up the "Sweet River", the Rio Dulce in Guatemala to a big lake called El Golfete, where we will keep NOR SIGLAR during the hurricane season. We are actually into the official hurricane season right now. It starts in June and lasts to the end of October. However, there has hardly ever been any Occurrence in these waters in June or July, so we feel pretty safe. We are monitoring the Miami weather forecasts several times a day. If a tropical storm should start to build up, we are only two days sail away from the mouth of Rio Dulce, so this should allow us adequate time to run for safety. The rainy season is also upon us, and we are experiencing frequent lightening and thunder storms accompanied by torrential downpours. These rainsqualls usually happen at night or during the early morning hours. Luckily, they are fairly short in duration, mostly 1 - 2 hours. When the boat is in Mario's Marina on El Golfete during the hurricane season, we plan to do some inland travelling in Honduras and Guatemala. In early August, we are heading to Vancouver and Norway "for a "break" and plan to return to the boat at the end of September. In the meantime, Hasta Luego Amigos! Copyright © Anne Brevig & Martin Vennesland. www.norsiglar.com | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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We transport this Kuna family's dead uncle on Nor Siglar's deck to his funeral 
