A caricature is putting the face of a joke on the body of a truth.
- Joseph Conrad -

...therefore a joke must be putting a caricature of a face on the body of a truth?
hang on... face of a body is putting a joke of a truth on a caricature?
A face is a body of a caricature put on truth of a joke?
Hang on... 1 x caricature = face x joke / body x truth. Therefore ...
Aaarrghhhh... wisdom is too complicated!
- Lauri G. -




Map: ©Microsoft Encarta World Atlas

The istmus of Panama.




Atlantic Panama

About gangs, tribal behaviour and being a wuss



We continued to enjoy our loose schedule and despite having a limited budget, we continued to live without much care, enjoying our cruising and worrying about tomorrow later. Once we got within a bus trip from a major supermarket, we went for it full force again. The last supermarket we'd seen was three months before in Cartagena and while we were in no way running low on supplies, there was lots that we were keen to buy. Despite promises of "you can get everything in Panama, we found no real crusty bread, no crisp bread, no good muesli and no avocados. Tin food selection was also disappointing, with the good Danish sausage products missing completely.


Heikki and Marja in Buenaventura were almost living my Australian dream, Panama style. You see, my vision usually includes a raised Toyota HiLux (perhaps even a Kelpie on the tray), a house by the ocean, close enough to good shopping and a bigger city, but still in a quiet little township and some jungle near by.



Heikki setting up an infra-red triggered camera to capture some of the less seen wild life on film. Yep, there are jaguars in there. Trust me, I've seen the photo.


Oh yeah, one more map....I've been in map-making mood recently:




We skimmed through the Atlantic side of Panama-proper with basically Pacific in our minds. Atlantic Panama has some good cruising grounds even outside Kuna Yala but we couldn't do it all within our travel plans. We gave Bocas del Toro a miss, though it's a "must do" area with both natural beauty and good services. We made only two stops before Colon. Aliisa was moist, mouldy and needed a marina berth, a clean-up and a load-up. The crew just needed long, hot showers and a little pampering. Annina's birthday was coming up and Shelter Bay Marina - whatever the cost - was the least I could do as "something special". (Yeah, our entire life is "something special" but when "something special" is an everyday occurance, you need to break it with something ordinary like a shower, running water, electricity on the wall, internet, television and a washingMACHINE. We planned a nice birthday dinner in a restaurant too, but ...)




Puerto Lindo waterfront.





Lindo's main street was quiet, people were friendly and the loudspeakers in their living rooms were both big and loud.




Map: ©Microsoft Encarta World Atlas

The istmus of Panama.





Extra Year, Extra Yeah!


There's no reason to put this picture here, but I had a map-making session and decided to throw it in. Because it's my site and I can do whatever I want.


Aliisa's plan for extending a circumnavigation by one year from the Caribbean to Australia. Many yachts travel extensively in the Caribbean during the storm season - thanks to good forecasting and modern communications. We met a number of yachts also heading out to cross the Pacific as late as September. There are also a few different definitions of "cruising". To most cruisers it does not mean "moving from place to place", but rather enjoying life afloat. Therefore I've been cruising now non-stop for almost 12 years.

My current idea of "cruising" is more rigorously married with the obsession to circumnavigate and the preassure to do so before the money runs out. At the time of this writing, we're still in Panama. In other words, ANYTHING could happen in the future. (Mysterious, unknown things rarely happen in the past and that's why future is always more exciting...but more about future later. (When else?)

But this really sounds like just throwing days from the future into the past. Now let's get back to the update, shall we?


Tribal success

And Panama? Yeah, allright, I suppose. Our first port was Lindo, next to Isla Linton. A small bay with lots of yachts anchored up. Behind the next headland and mangrove swamp was the ultra-sheltered Panamarina - a pontoonless "marina" full of moorings and mangroves. It's apparently a haven for leaving your boat alone with the sand flies and fly home yourself. There were maybe a hundred yachts there, but nobody home.

(By the way, did you know that time flies like wind and fruit flies like bananas?)



For us it was a haven of two cold beers, two burgers and two LAN cables attached to a rather slow internet. Yeeee-haaa! I feel that my 3 months off-line was only made possible by that old Ham-rig and Pactor, still keeping us in e-mail contact with the world. We sat two afternoons (we tend to sleep in the mornings) plugged into the Panamarina internet and catching up with blogging, skyping, mailing, facebooking, googling and so on. (By the way - did I tell you that I managed to get a call-sign based P3 licence for the Pactor and thanks to the increased speed, we can now use "shadow-mail" to monitor our normal mailbox with the SSB as well! That's another yeeee-haaaa!)

Lindo itself was charming in a Panamanian way; full of rubbish and run-down houses with big speakers blasting music. A few pimped-up cars, seriously pimped up buses and fairly rough-looking male youth. Yet, the feeling was very friendly and laid back. Lindo is pretty much the end of the road and a place where many semi-permanent yachtie-residents of San Blas come to take a road-trip to Panama City or Colon for shopping and where many backpackers come to hitch a lift on a yacht to Cartagena. We stayed a few days, collecting the heavenly rain into our tanks and picking the first sunny day to move on.


The 1/2 mile long dinghy pass from Puerto Lindo to Panamamarina is ... how is it said again? Kewl! Yep. I presume it's a natural channel, just deep and wide enough to take any tender through.


Panamarina at the wet season was full and quiet. Many people keep their yachts here while taking a break from cruising. There are no pontoons, but they do have a small bar/restaurant, 24-hour security, laundry and internet.




It was time to test the tribal behaviour of humans. You see, I grew up in Finland, though I haven't lived there for nearly 20 years. In the bay of Buenaventura lives a couple also from Finland. They too had been living a tropical life for the last 20-odd years. We had never met them but due to tribal behaviour, it was perfectly normal to call them, email them and arrange to anchor infront of their house. Basically, any Australian would have been extremely welcome to stay with me while I was in Finland. Equally, any Finn would be welcome to visit once I'm back in Australia. (I'm a member of two tribes) That's the way it works. (Note, that strangers from your own "tribe" are ok only when you're far from the tribal home. While at home you may hardly speak to your neighbour, country-hicks excepted, of course!) As much as I'd like to analyze further this type of human behaviour, I'll get on with the story.





A monkey in Portobelo looking for lice. This is the evolutionary source of our liking of cuddling and touching our loved ones. Without lice we would have never learned to caress our lovers; an act that basically simulates this primitive feel-good intimacy between partners.
He didn't find any lice, but when he saw Annina, he got a hard-on and started to masturbate. Another evolutionary instinctive behaviour?



We met our Finnish hosts and instantly got along. Mind you, I'm really easy to get along with - until you get to know me well.... We had more than just Finnish blood in common: we had both abandoned our country of origin. I suppose there are some cultural similarities, ways of thinking or some perspective or a set of basic values or ways of perception that makes people relate to eachother whenever they've grown up in a similar environment. Perhaps its the same way of mutual understanding that is more pronounced between ex-inmates, ex-service men, ex-pow's, and other groups that share a common experience that has affected them deeply. (Childhood affects us deeply, often more deeply than anything else!)

Every war on this planet - from the neighbourhood fight to the shock'n'awe is a tribal war. We are still a bunch of howler monkeys, picking lice and having a wank. None of our wit or wisdom is going to save humanity from itself unless we learn to walk away from tribal behaviour.
- Lauri G. -



I got off on a tangent again. Let's go back to the update...

It was nice to meet new people and it was nice to have a real shower and use the internet. I exploited those luxuries selfishly and enthusiatically. We enjoyed dinner with lots of fast-pace Finnish language. Heikki tooks us around in his raised Hi-Lux and provided a 4WD experience I've never had before. Smashing trip, I might say. The road was so rough we could only see blurry red clay and hear our heads smashing on the ceiling. Fun! When the road got too slippery, we continued on foot to visit the jungle base of the Primate Conservation Center, the foundation that Heikki worked for.




Aliisa in Buenaventura, our host's house... well... ongoing project of a house behind the shipwreck on the left.






Life's simple pleasures are cheap - if not free. Mud squirting between my toes on a 2-hour hike with Heikki. It's been a while but I'll take any opportunity I can get.


A day in Portobelo provided a glimpse into a place loaded with pirate-history. Unfortunately it was also littered with rubbish. Some houses were in the same state than the famous ruins of its old Spanish fort. A little rough on the edges but again, friendly. Rainforest (which covers 1/3 of Panama) was pouring down the hills above. The surroundings were majestic and not much tidying up would be needed to transform the famous Portobelo with it's beautiful and protected harbour into one of Panama's principal pleasure ports and the most favourite cruising destination. The work would have to include tidying up the thieves that had in a very short time driven almost all cruising yachts away by nicking dinghies and anything else they could get their hands on. There had been reports of a boarding or two on yachts and also some drug-related violence within the local community. (In Panama, most of the crime is somehow drug-related) As it is so often, perhaps Portobelo's security situation may in the future be described with the words: "Oh, he's in prison now". A lovely town, lovely people, with a few individuals giving it a bad name during our time in the area.

Shelter Bay Marina





We enjoyed Sy Quartermoon's company again in the spa. In the Shelter Bay marina spa, as well as in the Panama jungle's natural spa.





After a week in Buenaventura, we continued our last 20 miles of Atlantic ocean and found a berth in Shelter Bay Marina, near rectum... sorry, Colon. I apologise to the people of Colon for talking about their home town in such a way, even if it might be the most aptly named town on our planet. To be perfectly honest, I shouldn't really say too much about Colon. Why? Because I never went there!

Yeah, I'm sure it's not that bad and I know many people do go there, though they don't do that by choice. Cruisers, tourists and anyone with the slightest sign of wealth visible only go to Colon when they absolutely have to and only by car or taxi, from door to door. You simply don't walk around in the town and enjoy yourself. With reportedly 18 gangs controlling the streets, recruiting kids as young as 10 to do the worst jobs (for legal reasons, of course...), the town is not only the real rectum of Panama but also a living proof that drug trafficing is alive and well, controlled by a level of wealth, power and weapons that the local government just can not match. (The people in the gangs have choices in life like anyone else. But theirs are hard ones. Once you're in, you're in for life, usually.)



A strange loud noise from the surrounding jungle turned out to be Howler Monkeys, who each morning and evening reaffirm and reinforce their territory by howling to competing groups. Photo stolen kindly from Animals need kisses - blog. (If I steal, at least I do it kindly) All animal lovers ought to have a look at the blog.
I'm not sure if this South American species is the same that we heard almost every day in Panama..


Local advise

When traveling, I regard the local advise much higher than the advise of fellow travelers. Fellow travelers often have only one very subjective experience of a place and the stongest opinions come from people who haven't even been to the place in question. (Ha ha ha ha ha ha! That's ME in this case! Bloody hell, I never thought I catch myself doing this and still carry on...) Locals, on the other hand have many years of local knowledge and can give you a more accurate and less passionate picture of their own area. If it's good enough for the locals, it's good enough for me. In Panama there was no shortage of locals - including residents of Colon - who would tell you not to bother going there, unless you have an armed guard with you or move strictly from door to door with a reputable taxi-driver. (Some taxi drivers are also involved with organised crime and people taking a cab have been robbed too - by the driver! The common advise of picking an older driver, rather than a young one, is making it even harder for a young aspiring lad trying to make an honest living by driving a taxi.)

Of course I'm a wuss. And being a wuss, I must justify heavily my wussy comments about Colon. I'm happy to be a wuss. I'm having shitloads more fun being a wuss. I simply hang out with happy, friendly people and let all the tough boys beat eachother up in the rough parts of their towns. Please take my ranting about Colon with a pinch of salt. We all have fears and attitudes when we travel and while caution keeps us safe, sometimes it also prevents us from experiencing something great. All the good people of Colon hope that the town's situation will change. Maybe it will. If you're cruising, ignore my fear-mongering and simply seek local advise. At the time of our stay in Panama, we didn't meet one single person who would recomend Colon town for a white, tourist-looking person to walk in.




Shelter Bay Marina volley ball session - every day at 3pm - waaay too hot and too early but we must play before the 5pm happy hour starts.



Colon and Cristobal harbour currently offer only two options for cruisers. Anchor in the "flats" (small craft anchorage "F") and use a water taxi service to go ashore, or drive into the rather posh Shelter Bay Marina. Okay, number three would be anchoring infront of the tiny local Club Nautico (room for a couple of yachts, which the club tolerates, rather than welcomes). I'm sure you'll be not surprised to know that only the best is good enough for us. Yep, we went to Shelter Bay - our first marina in almost 5 months. (Since Port Antonio, Jamaica in May)

Shelter Bay Marina was an example of a perfect marina-vision, near-perfect realisation of the vision with only less-than-perfect management. The restaurant was out-sourced and owned by a guy called Tom, who simply did not manage it. When I complained about a number of issues, he got cranky with me, pointing out that he has superior experience and skill in the food & beverage industry and that he's forced to have a bunch of monkey's as staff. Very nice, maan. No wonder the staff hates you! It's a real shame he couldn't care enough to actually use his skills and experience in management. The restaurant - on average - had 20% or less available on their menu and in about 60% of times had run out of sauces, ketchup, mayo, chilli, bread or some other ingredient. Fish was frozen and watery and they refused to cook it whenever they happened to run out of flour. Maybe flour was needed to hold the frozen piece together in the microwave? Suffice to say, I wasn't the only one unhappy. I'm glad I got that off my chest. Thankfully there was a free shopping bus to a massively good Rey-supermarket. (Which the restaurant manager should try one day!) We ate well at home and whenever we had burgers in the restaurant we brought our own sauces.


When you see this and feel cold air, be ready for short blow. A thunder cell sweeping across Shelter Bay.



The top management didn't really seem to understand the value of the people down on the ground and the importance of hands-on involment. Ok, Ross-the-boss walked around pointing fingers and giving orders with a politely superior attitude towards yachties (exept mega-yachts) and a slightly military-superior mannerism towards the native Panamanians. (Ross and Tom are both Seppos themselves and therefore naturally superior to native Panamanians?) Nice provo there...any takers? Or perhaps I talked myself into the swamp of "tribal behaviour", something I must be able to walk out of... Damn!

As much as I like complaining when things are not done properly, our stay in Shelter Bay was good. Most of the staff on the "floor", Alicia and Lena in the office, Gabriel (dockmaster?), Dave (yard captain?) and Elvira (restaurant) made enormous contributions to our stay. A few single individuals can make all the difference. We made sure to book for more than 7 days in order to get the lower rate, which at about US 24 per night was a bit much. (Aliisa is 32ft) Normally we would have chosen something cheaper, but with no competition around we were forced to enjoy long hot showers in the spacious "rain-shower" bathrooms, long sessions in the spa and a few laps in the cool swimming pool. Yeah, no complaints, after all. Yeah, it was not a bad spot.




Arriving in Shelter Bay with no shelter from the tropical rain.`


There was water on tap, power on the socket and good, wide sturdy pontoons to tie up to and enough large washing machines and dryers. A fuel barge - though expensive - provided easy fueling and after a number of complaints even the wi-fi started working well. In addition, the marina had a library and an air-conditioned TV-room to watch the BBC and CNN news. Some little things were less than professional but there's always a negative attitude needed to notice them. I love to notice things-not-perfect and occasionally I'm able to marry them with a positive attitude.

For example: someone could complain about the insane sign at the waste-oil collection station. It said, that the marina does NOT take any waste oil, until they get their facility upgraded. The sign went on to explicitly ban anyone from leaving any waste oil containers anywhere in the marina compound. There were over 100 yachts up on the work yard and 50+ in the marina. No facility for waste oil? I could not see any problem with that at all and I'm sure someone will one day eventually pour the contents of my waste oil containers into the new upgraded facility. The ones that I left under the sign.




Some Panamanian Icons include the statue of the Black Christ in Portobelo and the iconically painted old US school buses that provide almost all the public transport in the country.



Rio Chagres provided a welcome break from TV, internet, pool and spa; those awful things that corrupt us all and take us away from the real pleasures of life. (what?) Only 6 miles from Shelter Bay, the Chagres River offered a total escape from the modern world. A few bends up the river left us with nothing but jungle and the sounds of monkeys and parrots. Surprisingly mozzie-free, we spent 3 nights there in total peace. Well, almost. Our dearest friends, Amy and Symian on Sy Quartermoon helped us out from the "real pleasures" of mother nature. We enjoyed plenty music, grog, nice food and good company.









Chagres River - a world away, and yet, so close to the world. A "must" place to go and chill out...
monkey pic © Alex Duckett, Thank's Al! (We saw them too, but didn't have the lens to capture them in this detail.



The name "Shelter Bay" is well chosen. Not only were we sheltered from the seas, we were also sheltered from life and cruising itself. Locked in the heavily guarded compound of yachties, surrounded by Panamanians constantly polishing their boss's luxury yachts. Enough nice. Enough comfort. Enough Atlantic. Time to move on.


Panama Canal!



I was shitting a brick for the whole time. Do I make the speed? Does the engine over-heat? Will we hit the wall? Will we be able to accommodate the crew of 4 rope handlers? What if it rains? What if? What if? WHAT IF?!! Fortunately Amy, Sym, Alex and Debs brought 6 litres of wine to ease the tension. Everyone had gloves ready and as I was steering the heavily loaded Aliisa into the first lock, I wasn't sure if the gloves were for handling ropes or skulling the wine. More about the canal on the next update - the Pacific side of Panama.

A real bargain? (a quick synopsis of what you get for your money.)


There's enough written about Panama Canal transits, so I'm not going to bother doing one more description of how it goes. Ok, just a short one: There's three locks up and three locks down. There's the Gatun Lake, which with all its twists and turns makes a 30 Nm fresh water passage between up-locking and down-locking. Traffic is mostly one-way, being reversed every 6-8 hours and with a few hours of over lap. (Ships do not have enough room to pass each other in all places). New locks are under construction, increasing the capacity and re-defining the "Panamax" size.` Shipyards around the world are busy building new post-panamax-size bulk carriers.


Heading out to the Gatun locks at sunset. The crew was excited, the captain nervous.



For Aliisa - almost a panaminimun-size vessel - the transit was cheap as shit. I used to think that it was expensive but the actual experience of it made me think again. The rate for a vessel under 50 feet in total lenght is US 600. Here's what we got for it:

Aliisa and Quartermoon alongside in Rio Chagres


If you add up the number of people, the number of vehicles and vessels, the number of miles (land- and nautical-), the amount of diesel, the amount of working hours and the amount of liability involved, I think 600 bucks is a fair deal. Try booking a pilot launch with a crew of two to deliver a pilot (ok, the "advisor" is not a real pilot..) to your boat for four hours and then have another launch pick him up. Surely the operation of a 50 ft pilot launch would cost at least US 100 per hour!? Please don't tell the Panama Canal Authorities, but I think our transit was a bargain, really. And if they read this and decide to raise the price? Hmmm. Sorry.


We ended up using an agent and it worked very well for us. There are two kind of cruisers transiting Panama Canal: those who use an agent and those who don't. You could do everything yourself and more than likely things will be perfect, you save several hundred dollars and get your 1500-dollar bond back by cheque in the mail a few months later. Sweet. Or maybe not. You could end up in trouble, say being late from a lockage or having some problems with the ever-corrupt and ever-rule-changing authorities and ending up losing some or all of your bond. With an agent, you may end up being ripped off, still having to pay the bond and having no real benefit from the agent. Or you could use an agent, have some problems during the transit but having your good agent getting you out of trouble, him dealing directly with the authorities and saving you from extra fines, as well as saving you from ever having to pay a bond at all. Confusing? Yep. Life is, and Panama Canal is no different.




The admeasurer (left) and his driver clearly enjoyed their jobs. He measured Aliisa from bow to stern, but made no comments about her. The most important thing was to sign the liability release and to say that you can do 8 kn of speed. I raised that dangerous question already with him and said: "what if I can't?". The reply was a roundabout sort-of un-official: "If you can do 5kn, you'll be allright", but the paperwork is always filled in with 8 kn.



Stan the Man - Stanley the agent. We only really saw him twice. He was always happy, particularly on the second meeting when he collected the money. I don't know if he actually worked much at all for the money, for us the main motive for using him was not having to pay the bond and having a easy package deal with lines and fenders included. We're lazy and comfort-seeking, the prime kind of market for people like Stanley.


We used an agent called "Stanley" (Ask in the Shelter Bay marina, he's well known). We didn't know him from a bar of soap, but we had many recommendations from many different cruisers and marina staff. The man was cheerful, and why wouldn't he be? I gave him 400 dollars of my money! He only had to visit his mates in the canal authority, make a few phone calls and give me a receipt! Well done. From my point of view though, I never had to go walking in Colon with 2K in cash down my pocket. I never paid a bond, therefore never had to wait for it to be returned. The deal included plastic-wrapped tyres and lines, a zarpe (outward clearance from Colon district to Panama City) and a collection of ropes on the other end. We could pick our transit date and even change it with little notice with no extra penalty. (I'm not sure if this is possible during the peak season Feb-March.) There was also a promise of getting us out of trouble by the mention of his name. Indeed, every advisor and canal authority responded with a smile when hearing his name. I'm not sure if that's good or not. We never got into any trouble.

I have no particular need to promote Stanley, nor do I have any particular opinion about using or not using an agent. People by insurance. In other words, they give money - sometimes large amounts over the years - just for a feeling of reassurance. The feeling of even the service of someone else taking care of things. We often pay for non-tangible things. In 2009 Stanley got the contract for both ARC World and Blue Water rallies. So, while he apparently doesn't have an office, just a mobile phone number, he's a well established man in the business. I would recommend him. That's if you're into using an agent. If not, I'm sure you'll be just fine too.


Departing the Atlantic. I'm standing there, holding the wheel in awe. Debs and Symian (pictured), Amy and Alex (behind me) are working hard while Annina is recording it all. More about all that in the next update.