Day three on the Corto II. El Capitan Sea Bass lays out the plan for the crew. We must head North to a small island that houses Panamanian Immigration, get the exit stamps for the passports, and process some paperwork to allow ToTe to pilot another boat, the Santa Maria, back to Cartagena.
On board with us is Oliver, a live wire of a Panamanian, who will sail with ToTe. Anchors up and we sail and motor North, into the swell and the wind. This is the first taste of a moving boat and it is not to the likes of the entire crew. No one is throwing brekkie back to the fishes, but there are some queasy faces. Not for the last time, Chicas! I am lucky enough to be immune to motion sickness, but I try not to be to smirky about it.
Ell Capitan with the passports. The incredibly busy government office is on the island.
An hour North and we come to the islands that make up the official saiing frontier of Panama. There is still plenty of Panama to the South of here, but this is the official spot. El Capitan, ToTe and Oliver head to shore in the zodiac with the bundle of passports. While the official business is being conducted, ever so slowly, ToTe returns to take some folks for a last minute shopping excursion to the Kuna village on the next island. Mas Cerveza! Mas Rum! I stayed onboard, having my cigars and needing nothing else.
How to spend time while one's passport is in the hands of the Gub'mint.
Goods stowed and passports stamped, we weigh anchor again and head south, both sails full and the swells behind us. We are making eight knots with no engine and Jacko, who has been dying to see the sails up, is beaming. Along the way we get a dolphin escort off the bow, almost close enough to touch. Our trolling line starts singing and El Capitan grabs the rod. There is a small skipjack dancing on the end of the line, crossing the wake, but Mr. Fish shakes the hook before he becomes lunch.
Our next slice of paradise.
Coming abreast of the original anchorage, ToTe and Oliver jump into the Zodiac and motor off to prepare the Santa Maria. The Corto II continues South to our next anchorage, an even more remote set of islands in the archipelago. After several hours of cruising, we slide towards a group of islands just East of the channel. Sea Bass wants to get in close since we will have no dinghy until tomorrow. We ease through several boats, turn upwind just off the beach, and drop the anchor. Unfortunately, the anchor grabs palm fronds instead of sand, skips over the bottom, and the Corto II eases back in the wind until the keel is gently tapping the sandy bottom. Although El Capitan is pretty digusted with himself, it is no problema. Two dinghys race from other boats and take on the roll of mini tugboats, pushing up against the Corto II from the beach side and easing her out into deeper water.
Anchor set properly, we settle in for the evening. We are anchored next to the catamaran Santana, which was foremly know as The Levante. And now it was time for ghost stories. Real stories of piracy and murder in the San Blas.
The Santana, formerly The Levant, anchored near us.
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