January 3rd the best and the worst of boat life
We have a quick bite to eat at the Panama House bed and
breakfast before hitting the road about 6:30 am and I somehow get elected to
lead the five other bikers through the morning traffic rush. We are traveling
with Taylor from Bellingham, WA who we met earlier in Mexico, Alex and
Nathaniel from the San Francisco Bay area, Jesse from Ottawa, and Nicolas (aka Chile) from
Delaware. In an earlier post I had said
we were going to Colon but it is actually the Port of Carti that we are to meet
the boat. When we arrive we can see the boat is anchored in the bay and some
Kuna (indigenous people) are running beside us and pointing where we should go.
We are directed to drive to the end of a concrete dock where the bikes are
stripped of all their luggage and panniers. All of us were expecting to load
our bikes into Zodiacs for the transfer to the sailboat but because of high
tide they brought the sailboat to the dock and hoisted them onto the deck. The
loading took about half an hour and then we settled into our quarters and had
another breakfast on the boat.
Moto's getting hoisted onto the deck.
Kuna natives are employed to help load the bikes and also provide baked goods along with seafood for the voyage.
We run three hours under diesel power to get to
an island in the San Blas and pull within thirty meters of the shore and set
anchor for the next day and a half of relaxation. The sand is as soft as flour
and the water is just the right temperature.
It doesn’t take long before everyone is diving off the decks
or jumping into the water with the help of a rope hanging from the sail
rigging. (See the video below)
The evening is spent on the island making new friends,
eating kabobs for supper and followed up with a bon fire.
January 4th
Today becomes a day of non-stop entertainment, getting to
know our fellow passengers and of course some beer drinking. The current in the
water is a lot stronger today and I limit my water activities rather than risk
being dragged out to sea. The crew comments that they are concerned about
running out of beer on this trip. Diana and I are the oldest people on the boat
and I won’t even attempt to keep pace with the younger crowd.
(The following video is of Jesse from Ottawa doing a rendition of a Spanish song)
Jesse performing on the Stahlratte.
View from the island.
View from the boat.
Remains of a container ship that hit the reef in the mid eighties.
Diana standing in front of our berth (photo taken from the hatch above)
January 5th
Our day begins at 5am with the sounds of the crew preparing
the ship to set sail. The sails are
prepped and both anchors lifted. It’s light enough that you can see the surf
crashing on the edge of the reef and as soon as we cross the reef the ride
becomes much rougher, claiming its first victim as he hangs over the railing.
I’m fairly certain it’s a result of the drinking the night before. My good
friend Heidi saved me from getting sea sick a number of years ago in Tofino and
this time we came prepared with Gravol. Both Diana and I take two each and
settle in for the marathon run to Cartegena. The swells according to an
experienced sailor are 3.5 meters and somewhat larger later in the evening.
At this point I’m unsure if I should have breakfast or not
but finally go for a bowl of fruit and three buns with homemade jam. Hopefully
I don’t become a victim to sea sickness.
About 10:30 am I make my way below deck, stepping over Chris
who is sprawled across the floor at the foot of the steps (he’s in bad shape from
the previous night). I catch an hour’s sleep before pulling out the laptop to
record some thoughts. Lying in our berth feels like laying down on a violent
roller coaster as you get pitched in every direction. At times you can
anticipate the next change in direction by the noise of the water on the hull.
At times there is little noise from the hull and you know its partially out of
the water, then total silence as it catches air time before dropping back into
the water. It sort of feels like riding in a small airplane in stormy weather
except you can’t see.
There is little other noise with the exception of our fan
and the roar of the water against the hull as everything else has settled into
place hours ago. There are laptops, cameras and misc. personal items on the
floor after being tossed from their original storage place. We are fortunate to
have spoken with some of the crew and knew what to expect and so far everything
is still in place.
The rough seas are claiming many victims as there are people
hanging over both sides of the boat now and we are only a few hours into a
voyage that will take 27 hours. The boat has five of its six sails deployed and
the engine is chugging away at its 240 RPM. (Full speed is 7.5 knots)
Although my stomach is okay I don’t want to risk eating too
much and resort to eating a dozen crackers and some pretzels for supper. The
boat is deathly quiet and we decide to go to bed at 9:30. A number of times
throughout the night we are awaken by the changing noise of the water on the
hull indicating rougher seas.
January 6, 2014
I’m awake at 6 am and eventually go have a shower which is
just a garden hose on the side of the main deck. (The ladies have a shower but
Diana says it’s so small that you can’t even get dressed in it) The sails are
dropped and we pull into Cartagena under diesel power about 9 am. It’s some
kind of national holiday in Columbia, all the government offices are closed and
the captain can’t get our passports stamped. The bikes will be hoisted off the
boat onto a floating dock at 7 am tomorrow which will then be towed to shore
for unloading. We then need to clear the
bikes through customs which shouldn’t be a problem as the captain of the boat
has told us we will use the ships broker to process us and the bikes.
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