Week 75: Taboga to Las Perlas (39nm)

Our Pacific passage was starting to loom over the horizon, but we still had some time to while away so we took in another lap of the Bay of Panama and found a few more nice spots to enjoy the scenery and work through the ever diminishing jobs list.

Captain’s Log

Sun 2nd Feb: Laura and I set out to explore the local town of Taboga whilst Daniel and Camille worked on their vlogs – we found a distinctly Central American take on the shabby beachside town that was clearly very popular with the weekend Panamanian crowd. We then swapped out with D&C and were forced off our (unmarked) mooring buoy by an impressively aggressive American fishing charter (after our efforts to hide were thwarted), but they left after three hours so we were able to return to the calm spot overnight. We then had a fun evening aboard catching up with the England vs. France rugby game and trialling some new recipes for the crew – I’m pleased to announce my ‘use up the leftovers frittata’ has been approved for Laura’s very exclusive Pacific menu.

Mon 3rd Feb: Laura and I were each hankering for a different change of scenery so we decided to part ways, with Laura taking the ferry back to Panama City for the day to catch up with some cruisers and explore the old town, whilst I attempted to climb to the top of the highest point of Taboga. It was the perfect length ascent for someone who hasn’t use their legs for extended periods in recent months, and after an hour of enjoyable cardio I was rewarded with a spectacular view across the Panama Bay towards Panama City itself. We both returned to Serenity feeling refreshed and ready for the return sail back to Las Perlas

Tue 4th Feb: The weather forecast had indicated that this would be the best day for us to try out the twins (headsails), which we were expecting to be our predominant Pacific sail plan; however, the reality didn’t match up and so after some very basic tests we changed instead to our spinnaker and had a much more pleasant sail. Despite the poor prediction in the fishing app, we were getting a good number of bites on the lures, but nothing was sticking until in the final hour we caught another bonito tuna. As I brought it aboard I discovered the reason for our low hookup rate was that Laura had left the small plastic protector on the end of the hook, and so we had in effect been fishing with a coat hanger – quite how this tuna had managed to hook himself past this barrier can only be a testament to how delicious the new lure looked and we will be moving this one up the rankings as a result.

Wed 5th Feb: Laura and I hiked our way round the whole island of Contadora (it’s pretty small so not that impressive a feat) and enjoyed looking at the mix of fancy houses and hotels alongside abandoned lots and resorts. We then returned to Serenity for a relaxing afternoon of small projects and downtime, then headed to shore to collect D&C who’d been finalising their latest vlog. Our quiet anchorage became much busier in the two hours before sunset and we learned from one of the boats that the World Arc would be hosting an event here in a little under a week, which would clearly swamp the anchorage and gives us a good reason to make a move on before they arrive.

Thu 6th Feb: A typical day in the life of a cruiser on the hook (see Story of the Week below).

Fri 7th Feb: Decided to make the most of the rare water clarity and check out a nearby (nudist) beach for snorkelling, but unfortunately we had to abandon after ten minutes due to the number of jellies in the water. On the plus side, Laura practised with her pole spear by artfully removing the scales off a couple of large fish, and we got to see some naked old people. Spent the afternoon cleaning up the tool set (and using a whole can of WD40 in the process), and then relaxed in front of an amazing film – 310 to Yuma.

Sat 8th Feb: Morning started off poorly as I discovered our recently bought inflatable kayak had developed a major defect in the floor when it had been left out in the sun and the pressure had got too high – whilst you can still use it, the stability has decreased significantly and we are now in a race against time to try and source a replacement before we leave. Listened to the England vs Scotland game on the radio whilst charging up the batteries and making water, which given the contrast between my surroundings and the extremely inclement weather that the game was being played in was a surreal listening experience. Finished the day with another instalment of the Seafarers version of Catan, which I was able to sneakily win by hoarding all of the gold resources (a move which I suspect may have repercussions in future games…).

Story of the week

Laura and I finished the day on Thursday in a quirky restaurant / bodega called Casa Tortuga, where the hostess has just informed us that the chef was on holiday and so they could only offer a limited number of options for dinner. Interestingly, Casa Tortuga eschewed printed menus even for their regular service, so we couldn’t see what we were missing out on and I was forced to deploy my rudimentary Spanish to enquire what our remaining options were. “Pizza o salade” she answered with a tentative smile.

I turned back to Laura and asked her if she needed me to translate. Apparently she has been using her spare time in Panama learning Spanish, as she just grinned at me and replied that pizza would be perfect. Our server scampered away with our order and we took the time to reflect on the passing of another day aboard Serenity First. In doing so we realised that the day itself exemplified so much of what we enjoy about this cruising lifestyle, and so I thought I’d focus this section on these oxymoronical mundane highlights.

I spent my morning scraping barnacles off the hull as we’d started to gather quite a collection with all our recent time in murky marina water. The concept of removing barnacles for me always brings images to mind of old time mariners and 17th century wooden ships, but I can confirm that despite advances in antifouling technology this is still a regular part of modern cruising life for the majority of sailors. We had fared well during our first few months in the water, but a downside of our new hard antifouling is that it needs to be manually freshened up with a scotch pad in order to expose fresh copper and biocide, and in my desire to wait for clear water before the scrub I had clearly left it a bit too long.

The good news is that even though the barnacles had started to grow, they struggle to form a secure bond with the paint and so it doesn’t take a lot of effort to knock them off. I had also been neglecting my breath hold training and so took this as a good opportunity to start building up my tolerance again. I had started at the bow and had been going at it for about 20 minutes when I noticed I had started to attract some spectators below me – a school of what looked like snappers had gathered and were greedily chasing after each of the sinking barnacles with such relish that I can only assume they are a delicacy for fish. The size of the school continued to grow and this led to other, larger fish taking notice. Triggerfish and filefish were the next to join the fray and were successful at bullying the snapper off the largest morsels; however, they then also had to give way as around five large grouper barged to the front of the queue.

This ever evolving spectacle turned what is normally an onerous task into something far more enjoyable, and it was only the loss of sensation in my finger tips that alerted me to the amount of time I’d been in the water. The tingling wasn’t down to the water temperature, but instead the sensation from elevated carbon dioxide in my blood from over two hours of repeated breath holds. I was so close to finishing that I was able to wrap it up, but it did mean I had to pass on swapping my scraper for my speargun and going for the tasty looking targets who I had accidentally chummed into my orbit.

After such a physical morning, I needed a more task of a more neurological nature and fortunately such a job existed as Daniel needed input in finalising the designs and order for some Serenity First branded attire. It is amazing that it has taken us this long to arrange for such a thing, and it can only be a mark of how overwhelmed we have often be by maintenance compared to where we are currently. We worked through the process of turning a hand drawn sketch into a cleaned computer drawing suitable for the printers, and then debated the various t-shirt, vest and hat options and colours before settling on a final order.

With such a productive day behind us, Laura and I decided to celebrate by going out for dinner and a quick google revealed one local restaurant that was an easy ten minute hike from the beach we were anchored off. So we jumped into TJ and navigated the surf to make a successful landing (I’m still trying to ascertain the balance of luck vs. skill in these landings). We then looked around to find something sturdy to lock TJ up to and discovered only one potential option – a tree growing at the top of the beach, which given it was currently low tide was a solid 40m away. There was nothing for it but to throw our backs into it and thank ourselves that TJ was light as dinghies go. The feat bore a close similarity to my former rugby training drills on scrum machines, although the sand underfoot provided some added challenge. We were both huffing by the time the tree was reached, but realised the silver lining was that our return journey would be downhill when full stomachs would be providing a further impediment.

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Ten minutes later wandering down badly paved roads by head torch light we had just managed to regain our breath when we came across Casa Tortuga, a restaurant that took shabby chic to a whole new level. Our pizza arrived fresh off the baking stone, and Laura graciously conceded an extra slice from her half to aid me in replacing the calories expended during my barnacle exertions. Our return journey was significantly less sweaty, as expected, and we even had the presence of mind to rinse the sand off our legs before we passed out in our cabin.

These are the days that I know will stay with me long after we leave Serenity First behind: the mix of work and play, of physical and mental, of seclusion and civilisation, of natural and then technological and then gastronomical immersion. Cruising life creates variety and balance almost by necessity, and this in turn creates welcome eddies in the turbulent torrent of time. The secret will certainly be working this magic once we return to our life ashore, and I am hoping that the impending hours of passage pondering that lie over the horizon will provide some further inspiration and illumination.

Parting thoughts

One new area of learning for me over the past few weeks has been celestial navigation, as Daniel has brought a sextant aboard as an aid to Pacific distraction as well as a backup to our myriad of GPS’s, but only if we can learn to do it right! I’ve been forced to dredge up mathematical theory in my brain that has lain long dormant, but I think I’ve managed to get my head around enough of it to be dangerous (i.e. take a reading).

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The next challenge is going to be learning to identify the specific stars that we will be using for our readings – I’ve discovered star sights provide a less challenging positional fix than sun sights for beginners. Once I’ve got that down, I will have everything I need to locate Serenity on a map including an app that takes some of the sting out of the calculations – the purists can call me a cheat but even though time has slowed down life is still too short. I’m planning on logging all of my attempts vs. reality and ideally will have a map of converging lines to share with you once our journey is complete – stay posted!