We slept until 0740 hours, on Tuesday, 11th March and awoke to blue skies and no breeze. We spotted another Westerly, an Oceanlord, named Annabelle, anchored about 150 metres behind us. We went over in the dinghy, on our way to the marina but there was nobody on board. Later, we would find the owner, John, on board and introduce ourselves. We climbed the stairs to the restaurant above the marina office and chandlery and ordered coffee and juice, only to find that they didn't serve breakfast there. However, the view over the marina and the anchorage was very pretty. Our next stop was Customs, where a friendly man cleared us in for $30 and applied for our cruising permit. It was $185 dollars for the permit and $65 for his service as agent but it ensured we were legitimate in Panama, without going through the rest of the 'online' process. Then we made a visit to Karla's Fruit, which we had passed on the way, where we bought a banana smoothie and a ham and cheese toastie, for $5.
We decided that we would have to bite the bullet and have new batteries fitted and that it would be sensible to replace them with lithium, if possible, so we went to the chandlery to find out whether they offered this service. Annabelle, from Seville, spoke very good English and told us that her husband, Alex was a Vectron approved supplier and installer and that we could speak to him at 5.30pm, when he would return from fitting lithium in a catamaran on the dock. Annabell hadn't heard of arbor seal and suggested using sikaflex instead.
From there, we took the dinghy round to the next bay, where Google Maps showed a small supermarket. We tied to the dock and took a short walk through the village until we came across the store. We passed several people but nobody acknowledged us. We bought provisions, including more bug spray, were ignored by the woman on the checkout and returned to the dinghy. Back on board, it was time to catch up on jobs. Pete filled the diesel, while I removed everything we had stored in the forward heads during our passage and repacked everything into the forward cabin. We would need to use the forward heads now we were at anchor, as that's where the holding tank is. Next job was to syphon out the old antifreeze and replace it with new, as Pete thought this could be causing our engine overheat problems, as he had topped it up with water when we ran out of antifreeze. I had the job of mopping out the bilges. It's a dirty job but someone has to do it. Then we had dolphins at the back of the boat but they were just passing through. After the jobs, we had a swim and a shower, before returning to the marina, with measurements of our battery spaces. The chandlery didn't have pink antifreeze, only blue, which isn't right for our engine. Pete spoke with Alex about the batteries and Alex said he would come out to the boat tomorrow to look at our setup and provide options and prices. He laughed when we said we only had 320 amps but we said we're a very simple boat, with no TV or mod cons.
We had dinner at the Black Pearl. We had hoped that Graeme and Aye would join us, as they had arrived from Portobello but in the end, they were too tired. The ribeye steak was $12 but it wasn't up to the standard we had become accustomed to in Colombia. We had a bad night on board. It was ridiculously hot and we kept hearing scraping noises. Pete said it was the anchor chain but when I looked out, we were stern on to the reef. We switched the instruments on and our depth was showing as 4.3 metres and Pete could turn the rudder so the noise probably was the chain but we weren't entirely comfortable.
We slept late again on Wednesday and I felt under the weather when I woke up. We had breakfast at Karla's again, checked out Charlie's mini-market, which was quite well stocked and bought sikaflex from the chandlery. Alex was there and asked to go to our boat right away, so Pete took him in the dinghy and left me sitting on the pavement, as the dinghy is only big enough for two. When I realised he wasn't coming back for me, I went upstairs for a cappuccino and used the wifi. When Pete returned, he said Alex loved our boat and appreciated that we were true sailors, with no more gadgets than we needed. He would prepare the options and quotes as soon as possible and could also arrange for someone to extend the a-frame to mount the extra solar panel we have. Pete had a beer and then we picked up beef empanadas from Karla's to take back for lunch. Back on board, we moved anchorage, as we didn't want a repeat of last night. A large yacht had departed from close to the shore of the mainland, so we went over there to look and managed to find a place to drop with 8m under the keel. We held with 40m of chain out, more than we had used for a long time. We had planned to change the gib for the genoa but there was too much breeze to safely do so. Pete used the sikaflex to seal the window, on the outside and made a good job of it. Then we returned to the Black Pearl for tea, with Pete having cerviche and me having thai green chicken curry, both of which were an improvement on the steak. We had a better night on board, with a cooling breeze through the cabin, although the noise from the monkeys and dogs was much louder here. At 0130 hours it rained and the window didn't leak.
We were up late again on Thursday. We went to the Black Pearl for a cup of tea and to use the wifi and to Karla's Fruit for breakfast. The fresh fruit bowl was lovely and refreshing. With having the new batteries fitted and because we were loving Panama, we were toying with the idea of staying in the country for the rest of the season and lifting the boat here, instead of heading north to Guatemala, via Providencia and Grand Cayman. I believed we could stay for 90 days but we went to see the lady in immigration to confirm that. We provisioned at Charlie's and met Polish, a tall, young, skinny, blond guy, on the dock, who said he was baking bread in the afternoon and would bring some to the boat. Back on board, I set to dusting, vacuuming and cleaning the heads and galley, while Pete went over the side to scrub the boat bottom and the log wheel. Then we went for a drink and to buy a supply of beer from the Terpel shop at the gas station. The quote arrived from Annabelle, so we went down to the shop to discuss it and pay a 50% deposit, so they could order any parts that they didn't have in stock. Annabelle and Alex were sailing to San Blas on Saturday for a holiday and we were heading there tomorrow, so we agreed not to talk boat jobs if we bumped into them. We returned to the Black Pearl and ordered dinner, beef bourginan for me (it came with pasta) and Pete had octopus and we both agreed it was the best food we had eaten there. While we were waiting, we successfully booked our US visa interviews, in London, for the 11th July; one more job off the list. Back on board, we lifted the dinghy and engine and completed what preparations we could to set sail the next morning. The breeze had gone and it was a sticky night on board but we did sleep.

Sunday, 9th of March, we had rain for the first time in months. We closed the hatches for the few minutes that it lasted. Today, we were planning to sail to Isla Porvenir, 20 miles west of Holland Cays, where we would attempt to check in, or stay for the night under the yellow flag, even though we had already spent one night in Panamanian waters. Just before 8am, we weighed anchor, a little nervously, given our proximity to the reef and then slowly made our way out of the anchorage, slipping through the narrow gap in the reef. We crossed an open stretch of deep water and then slowed to negotiate more reefs around the small islands as we headed south and west to find the open water channel between the groups of islands. The scenery was spectacular, just what you expect from the Caribbean, with turquoise waters and palm-fringed beaches. As we progressed, we noted the many anchorages around the area. It seemed that you could anchor anywhere where you could get in through the reefs, that was shallow enough. One catamaran was anchored just off a tiny coral spit. It took us an hour to reach deep, open water, at which point we lost no time in raising both sails, for our first beam reach (wind on the side of the boat) in many months. With 8 to 10 knots of wind, we were flying along, on a gentle sea, at 7 to 8 mph. Muirgen was loving it and so were we. Having passed through the Eden Channel, in Lemon Cays, we rolled away the gib, put the engine on and turned head to wind to drop the mainsail. Then we motored the short distance towards Isla Porvenir. We hadn't gone far when the engine alarm went off, telling us that the engine was overheating. I turned it off and Pete put out the gib, so I had some steerage while he went below to check out the problem. I was nervous, as there were reefs around and after yesterday, I didn't fully trust the charts. Cue dolphins; always there to take the stress out of a situation. An old dark grey one, with a ragged fin surfaced alongside me, as if to say, 'it's ok'. Then two more arrived on the port side and just as Pete emerged up the companion way, they jumped in the air in perfect synchronicity. Anti-freeze topped up, we restarted the engine and turned back towards Porvenir. The depths this time were accurate and we safely made our way through the reefs to drop anchor just west of the runway, which runs the length of the island. Even as we dropped the anchor, we were surrounded by local dugout canoes, full of women wanting to sell us Guna Yala flags, handmade bags and bracelets. We managed to show them that we had no cash, only credit cards and they eventually returned to the shore. We lowered the dinghy into the water and with our papers, we rowed the very short distance to the shore, pulling the dinghy up onto the beach. Our first stop was immigration. It was just after midday but they weren't closed for lunch. After a short wait, we were admitted to clear in and our passports were stamped. We were told that we would still need to go to Linton to clear customs and obtain our Panama cruising permit but we could stay here overnight at anchor. Our next stop was the Guna Yala Congressional Council, where we paid US$45 for a San Blas cruising permit, plus $20 per person in tourist tax. The cruising permit cost rises with the size of the boat. We now had some change, so we found the women from the canoes, under the trees and purchased a Guna Yala flag. They had asked for $20 but Pete offered $15 and they all clamoured for it, so we probably could have bought it for much less. They also asked for water, so we took a young boy and a number of pop bottles back to the boat with us, to fill from our supplies. We put the watermaker on and later sent more water over. Another dugout canoe approached us with a man paddling and a young, pregnant woman bailing water. The man, Nestor, spoke decent English and turned out to be someone who had responded to one of my questions on Facebook. HIs wife was called Caroline. Nestor appeared to be the go between for selling goods and services from the island opposite, which was covered in Guna houses. He said he could get us a sim card and cards for credit. We gave him US$40 and he went off, saying he would return in 30 minutes. Fingers crossed! An hour later, he was back, this time with his son and mother-in-law in the canoe. He had our sim, the credit cards and the $6 change but he didn't know how to set it all up for us and the instructions were in Spanish. He said he had a friend on shore who could help, so he tied his canoe to the stern of our boat and Pete rowed him ashore. Meanwhile, I was left with the mother-in-law and the little boy. I gave them lollipops and water and we had a little conversation, exchanging names and commenting on the heat. I understood that the boy had school tomorrow and needed a new pencil, which I was able to provide, along with some writing paper. Pete and Nestor returned and the phone was working. We sent messages to let people know we had arrived. The email had come back with the barcode for the Panama cruising permit, so I sent the barcode to the next email address to confirm the price. Hopefully we would have a response in the morning. Overnight, there was a strong breeze and we rolled a little bit at anchor, with the swell coming through the small gap in the reef to the northwest. I surprisingly felt a little chilly and had to pull a blanket over me.
On Monday morning we were up at 6am, first light and were away twenty minutes later. We could have breakfast on the run. It was 50 miles to Linton, with nowhere to stop on the way and we didn't want to arrive in the dark. We navigated the reef and then turned into the wind and waves and motored up beyond the shallows, before raising the mainsail, quickly followed by the gib, as we turned to port. We would have our second beam reach in two days and it looked like we had a healthy current behind us too. We had a consistent 10 knots of wind, from the north, or northeast, throughout the sail and our speed over the ground was over 6 knots, sometimes 7. At 0845 hours, we narrowly avoided a large log in the water and just after 9am we were hit by a heavy squall and the window in the aft heads started leaking profusely. We were out of arbor seal, so would need to find something to fix the leaks when we arrived in Linton. We had been told, by Graeme, that the marine shop there was excellent. For now, we stuffed kitchen paper under the leak. There was an area of shoals and shallow reefs, which we passed through cautiously, having elected not to go around to the north or south and we had no incidents. Around lunchtime, we were slowly passed by Elation, a 56 foot sailboat, with a possible 5 sails - spinnaker, 2 foresails, main and mizzen. They were flying the spinnaker, main and mizzen but they weren't going much faster than us. The scenery here was amazing and much like Indonesia, with tree covered islands rising out of the sea, along the shore. Soon after, we were in sight of Linton Marina, through the gap east of Linton Island. However, we were heading over the top of the island to approach from the west, which looked less hazardous. At 1315 hours, we rolled away the gib and put the engine on soon after, as we turned southwest but we waited until we were in the shelter of the island before turning head to wind to drop the main, as there was less swell. We passed a rather strange lookout tower, which also acted as a buoy marking a reef and then another one further round the corner. Then we could see all the yachts at anchor in the bay and we could hear the howler monkeys in the trees on the mainland. We cruised around but found the water to be very deep. We prefer to anchor in shallow water, with our CQR and maximum 50 metres of chain. Eventually we found a spot, close under the island and dropped in around 5 metres, reversing back into 10 to 12 metres. We could see the reef closer to shore but hopefully we were far enough away. It was very sheltered from the wind here and it didn't look like the wind would turn to blow from the south. It was 1410 hours, so we had made excellent time, having anticipated a 10 hour sail and it had been relaxing and enjoyable too. We put the dinghy in and mounted the outboard engine and motored over to the marina, taking care to avoid the reefs and shallow areas and tied up at the dinghy dock. We found the customs and immigration office, in a container at the back of the yard. Immigration told us we were already stamped in at Porvenir and that the customs guy wasn't in today, so to come back tomorrow. She said he would also be able to arrange our cruising permit, which sounded easier than going through the other 4 steps to obtain it 'online'. We were ready for a beer and were directed to the fuel station which had a shop selling cold drinks and a few tables outside, under an awning. It wasn't salubrious but it was cheap at a dollar a can. Back on board, we had a dip, in the cool, crystal clear water, then cooked mince and onions, with roast potatoes for tea. There were bugs about, so we put the nets in and closed the side hatches. It rained for 3 minutes and was then rather humid. Down in the saloon, it was really hot as there was no breeze. The batteries were flat again, so we couldn't have the fans on, so we sweated until 2am when there was an odd breath of air and eventually we could sleep. I heard many noises during the night, being owls, monkeys and maybe a pack of dogs howling. We didn't turn and touch the reef.

Thursday 6th March we were up early and ready to depart Santa Marta anchorage by 6am. Prior to lifting the anchor, we called the port authority on VFH channel 16. There was no response. We tried again and again and still no response. We weighed anchor and began motoring out of the bay, calling on channel 16 every couple of minutes. By 0645 hours, we had called more than 20 times. I guess, although it's essential to call for clearance to leave, they don't actually start work until 8am! As per yesterday, the swell was on the bean, as we left the bay and the boat rolled uncomfortably but at least, this morning, the wind, what little there was, was from the northwest, as forecast. We didn't get another visit from the Navy but we did have three dolphins alongside for a short time. Eventually the wind started to pick up and we deployed the foresail, which counteracted the rolling somewhat. After another twenty minutes, at 0935 hours, we had sufficient wind to sail and turned the engine off. We had set a course to keep at least six miles off the coast at Baranquilla, as the outflow of the river can cause rough seas and also brings with it debris, in the form of large logs, dead cows and abandoned sofas. However, the swell actually died down and we had a gentle and pleasant sail downwind and didn't see any logs. The water was like the Humber, silty and brown, eventually turning a murky green as we headed further west.
I had selected 10pm to 1am for my first night watch, hoping to make best use of the moonlight. Pete and I had both had naps during the day, although I only managed to rest my eyes. After tea and sunset, I had a G&T, to help me sleep and headed for the lee berth at 8pm but as usual, I couldn't sleep. The batteries weren't holding their charge again, so we were having to run the engine for two hours in every four, through the night. At the change of watch, Pete said there were no other vessels in sight but as soon as I entered the cockpit I spotted lights, in the distance, off the starboard quarter. I completed a 360 degree visual and then concentrated on the lights. AS they grew closer, I could make out the two white lights of a ship over fifty metres long and the lower light was to the left, meaning the ship was going in the same direction as us. It kept me interested, between alround checks, for a good while. It never showed up on AIS so must have been at least 3 miles away. There was a half moon and no cloud, which was illuminating the sea very nicely. The swell wasn't too big and the wind was around 15 knots, making for a comfortable sail. At 1120 hours, I spotted a single white light ahead and slightly off to port. We were not too far from Cartagena, so my first thought was that this could be a small fishing vessel. I watched the light and determined that the boat was heading in the same general direction as us and at a similar speed, so it was more likely another yacht or catamaran. Eventually, I could occasionally see another white light, not far ahead of the original light. Was this yet another yacht, maybe smaller, with the light disappearing in the swell? I was wrong again. I could now see both white lights all of the time, the aft one higher, so it was another ship over fifty metres long, coming ever so slightly across our bow but moving rather slowly. The ship was still there when Pete came on watch later. The moon set, a burnt orange colour, at 0051 hours and with the darkness, I was treated to some pretty phosphoressence, in our bow and stern waves, the lights dancing over the water. My night watch had passed quickly and surprisingly pleasantly. I alerted Pete to the ships in the distance on our port side and climbed into the bunk, hoping for a decent sleep, as the ride was now fairly comfortable. Pete doesn't make notes about his watch, just fills in the log book, so I have nothing to report from his watch, other than I didn't get much sleep, despite Pete leaving me in bed an extra 90 minutes.
The sky was growing lighter with the impending dawn, as I started my second 'night' watch. I soon spotted the lights of a ship, directly ahead of us but still many miles away. Then the lights disappeared as he turned then off, a little too early for my liking. The sun rose behind me but wasn't visible for a while due to low cloud on the horizon but with the daylight, I was able to pick out the shape of the ship on the horizon. I watched expectantly for the shape to cross our bows but the ship didn't appear to be moving. It couldn't be anchored as the water was 2800 metres deep. Eventually it appeared on AIS and was reported as under engine. The CPA (closest proximity of approach) was veering from 1.5 miles to 200 metres and back again, as we rode the following swell. Then the AIS signal disappeared, so I had no choice but to change to a more northerly course and pass around the stern of the ship, which was inconvenient. About 1.5 miles out, the ship came back on AIS and I have no idea why they had turned it off. I passed behind the ship and reverted to our original course, adjusting slightly for the detour.
While Pete was still snoring, I had a visit from a large pod of dolphins who were using the boat to help with their hunt for fish. The fish tend to jump away from the bow wave. Dolphins raced like spears towards the boat from the starboard quarter, while others on the port side and off the bow jumped in the air, spinning and slapping their tail fins, presumably stunning the fish. When the dolphins jumped, I could see they had pink and turquoise speckled underbellies, a species I had not encountered before. The dolphins stayed for well over an hour, so Pete also managed to see them when he awoke. I went back to bed for an hour, as I felt worn down by lack of sleep.
We had covered a useful 68.9 miles in our first 12 hours of passage and 73.2 in the second 12 but this would fall to around 63 for each of the next 12 hours, as we headed west and the wind dropped off. This had been expected, along with a reduction in swell. However, the swell was up and down, sometimes slight but with 3m rollers thrown in for periods. The current seemed to be pushing us north and with the light winds, we were struggling to stay on course, after the detour to avoid the ship, so we put the engine on from midday to 2pm, to help with speed and direction. Pete went for a nap and I was sitting in the cockpit on the port side, facing the stern, when I was hit by a flying fish, which made me shriek. It was a beautiful, irridescent blue and silver and it was sitting in my lap, wriggling frantically. They are renowned for stinking, so I picked it up by the tail, using a pair of shorts and flung it overboard.
We had planned to anchor overnight in San Blas, on our way to Linton Bay, Panama but with our reducing speed we risked arriving there in the dark, which is not recommended with the shallow reefs, so at 1800 hours, we reluctantly changed course again to head directly to Linton. This would mean a third night at sea, with almost 175 miles to cover instead of 115. I headed off to the lee berth at 7pm, feeling a bit despondent and I still didn't sleep.
At 10pm, Pete again reported no ships in sight but my first 360 degree visual spotted two white lights to port. Eventually I could see lights in windows along the full length of the vessel, so took it to be a passenger ship. We passed it quickly so it must have been idling. Just before I completed my watch, the wind picked up, along with the swell and for the first hour of my downtime I was thrown around like a ragdoll in my bunk and then, as things calmed, I slept, on and off and Pete woke me just before 6am, having pulled a five hour watch (bless him).
I let Pete sleep for as long as he needed and I passed the time monitoring the ships that were crossing our bow. Container ships look enormous when only 0.75 miles distant! Pete surfaced just before 10am and noted that I still had the engine on. We had barely any wind and would be bobbing around, going nowhere without it. We had had a look at our options. We could continue to Linton and slow down to avoid arriving in the dark in the early hours of tomorrow morning, or we could take a more southerly course, leave the engine on and arrive in Holland Cays, San Blas around teatime. We chose option two and increased the engine revs. The sea was pretty flat, so we did the change of courtesy flags, removing the flag of Colombia and replacing it with the Panamanian flag and the yellow Q flag, as we would be anchoring overnight without clearing in. At 1125, I saw a Portuguese Man of War passing the boat with its bright pink sail. We spotted another two later on. We refuelled the diesel tank from cans, while the going was calm and then had lunch - cheese spread on biscuits, with a small can of beer. This resulted in a carb coma for me and I fell asleep on the cockpit floor for an hour. By 1545 hours we could just make out the dim shape of very low islands in the distance and an hour later we were really closing in on our destination. We could see masts everywhere behind and between the tree-covered, little islands. Using the chart plotter for navigation, we eased by the first big reef and cut across an area which was shown as being 10-20 metres deep. The depth sounder suddenly shot down to 3.4m and then to 1.5m and we did a 180 degree turn to go back and circle round wider. We now knew that we couldn't trust the electronic charts in this area. We progressed slowly, watching the depth guage as well as keeping a look out for gently breaking water and changing colours, which might denote shallow water. There looked to be plenty of space in the anchorage but once inside, most of the lagoon was at least 15 metres deep, much deeper than we like to anchor in. We cruised around slowly and eventually found a space where we could drop in 2m of water but it was rather close to the reef. The anchor didn't catch the first time, so had to be raised to have another go. The second time it caught. We turned the engine and instruments off and fitted the bridle to the chain. The batteries were flat again after raising the anchor, so there would be no fans in use tonight. The France Digicel sim was showing as connected but only with H+ and there was insufficient signal to even receive notifications. Hopefully friends and family could see us on Marine Traffic if we had been picked up on AIS. We had a couple of G&Ts in the cockpit, ate dinner and went to bed. We had the mosquito nets in due to the risk of 'no see ums'. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the cabin and no rocking, making it very comfortable and we both went out like a light.

Having returned from our trip to Cartagena, our focus was now on our passage to Panama. This involved numerous trips to the various supermarkets to provision, starting with bottled and tinned items and finishing off with fresh and frozen food on the final day prior to departure. As we don't have a freezer, it's necessary to buy food which is vacuum packed and well-dated, which usually means smoked, cured or preserved products like bacon, sausages, minced beef and cheese. We also needed to have our camping gas bottle refilled and make sure our diesel tank and 4 spare diesel cans were full. As we had to give immigration and the marina 48 hours to leave, we were constantly checking the weather forecast to determine the best time to sail. Once we had given notice, there was no opportunity to change the time or the destination, which isn't very accommodating for sailors. Other chores included washing the boat and a final round of laundry and a bedding change. It wasn't all work though, as we visited the pool at the AC Hotel some afternoons, went to our favourite restaurants again (Done Chucha Gourmet; Reses 13; Ouzo) and had drinks at Cambiante (marina bar) with friends, old and new, including Shane & Mickey, Hugh & Debbie, Adam & Bev and Grant & Annie. It was also Carnaval in Santa Marta, so the city was buzzing with people and music.
We decided to depart on Wednesday 5th March, so went into the office to see Yerlis and complete the departure forms at 8am on Monday. We selected Linton as our destination in Panama. On Tuesday, late afternoon, we unplugged the shore power and water, so the marina could take readings and we could settle our invoice to avoid any delays tomorrow. We also completed the first step of our application for a Panama cruising permit.
On Wednesday morning, we were up with the lark and waiting outside the marina office before 8am. They took our passports, gave us our Colombia cruising permit, which lasts for 1 year and told us to return in an hour, when immigration would be ready to clear us out. How can it take an hour for them to stamp our passports? We went to Cambiante for a coffee while we waited. At 0850 hours we were admitted to the immigration office (it looked like they had just arrived) where they stamped our passports and provided 2 copies of the zarpe (exit / entry papers) for Panama. We returned to the boat and 15 minutes later, Shane and Mickey helped us slip our lines and we departed the marina. Unfortunately the wind was blowing from the southwest, so we were head to wind leaving Santa Marta and heading out to sea. We remained under engine and rolled with the swell, which was more or less on our beam. The tide was also against us. It wasn't the start that we wanted or expected, given the forecast for north east winds. Then we had company, in the form of the Colombian Navy, in a big, battered, grey rib. They pulled alongside to ask for the boat name, then backed off and seemed to say that we could continue on our way. At this point, having left the shelter of the bay, we had enough wind and raised the mainsail. Five minutes later the Navy were back and said they wanted to come on board to do an inspection. They waited while we lowered the sail and then attempted to come alongside, while we were still beam on to the 2m swell and they didn't come slowly either. The result was that they rose on a wave as we dipped and their boat came down on top of our starboard side, ripping out one of the stanchions, kinking the guardrail and putting a dent in the deck and the teak toe rail. They also scraped the hull but that should polish out. We signalled that we were returning to Santa Marta to assess the damage, which they were unhappy about. They stayed beside us for the 50 minutes it took for us to motor back and constantly tried to persuade us to turn around and continue on our journey. We steadfastly refused, as our safety was compromised. We tried to contact the marina on VHF channel 72 but didn't get a response, so we pulled onto the fuel berth and Pete asked the attendant to contact Sebastian. The Navy boat pulled in behind us and called their supervisor. Sebastian acted as translator while we discussed the incident and a lieutenant from the Navy arrived who spoke good English. Eventually, it was determined that the boys on the Navy boat, not the Navy itself, would have to pay for the damage to be repaired and a contractor would be with us after 2pm, as everyone was going away for their 2 hour lunch break. Shane, Mickey and their Colombian, ex-Navy friend, Manny, arrived with beer. Manny asked if we had called the port authority on channel 16 before we left, which we hadn't, as nobody had mentioned that we should. That was apparently why the Navy wanted to carry out an inspection. Adam, who was in the yard on Blu, brought us mango with salt and lime, a refreshing snack, as we weren't allowed to leave the dock and it was very hot. Surprisingly, at 2pm, 2 men arrived to repair the stanchion and re-fix it to the deck. The Navy lieutenant also returned to monitor proceedings, took photos of all our papers and passports and asked if we would consider contributing to the cost of the repairs, which was around £54, as it was a lot of money for the 4 boys to incur. We contributed our last 70,000 pesos and unbeknown to me, Pete also gave them US$30, so we more or less paid the bill ourselves. We felt it was unfair of the Navy to make the boys pay when it was their supervisor that insisted they board our boat in unsuitable conditions. With the repairs completed and a pretty good job done, we motored out to the bay to anchor for the night, as we weren't allowed to stay on marina premises, having cleared out. We had 24 hours from our initial clearance time of 8am, to depart and we confirmed to the Navy and the marina that we would be gone at first light on Thursday. We had intended to spend a night at anchor outside the marina at Valero, to reduce the number of night sails but this wouldn't be possible now. During the night, the swell was hitting the beam of the boat and we were rolling from side to side, especially for 2 hours from midnight, so we didn't really get the sleep we needed and so ended a bad day at the office.

It would have been Dad's 86th birthday today, 22nd February, so I had thoughts of him when the alarm went off at 0615 hours. We had booked Viktor to pick us up at 7am, outside the marina, to take us to the Santa Marta transport terminal, about 7kn outside the town. We waited until 7.15am before deciding that he had forgotten about the booking and walked the short distance to the Marriott Hotel, where we knew there would be taxis waiting. We agreed a price of 20,000 pesos for the short ride. On arrival, I managed to understand and respond to questions, in Spanish, regarding whether we already had tickets and which provider they were with and we were directed to the Brasilia desk to check in, much as you would at an airport. We presented passports and tickets and were met with a stream of rapid Spanish. Luckily, a guy (Lewis) at the next desk jumped in to assist us. Our 8.30am bus would not be leaving until 9.30am but there was space on the 0730 bus which would also be leaving up to 1 hour late. We were offered 2 seats apart, which we declined but this was followed up with 2 seats together, right at the back, on the right hand side. I prefer this side of the bus, as the view is not obscured by traffic going the other way and as we were heading south, would hopefully have a sea view. New tickets in hand, we settled down in the waiting room until we saw our bus pull in. The bus left at 0815, so we were ahead of our expected schedule. The coach was very comfortable, with big, plush, reclining seats and a little bit of aircon. Pete was soon asleep while I watched the world go by. The surf on the beaches north of Baranquilla was ferocious and there were large, well-worn logs all over. They come down the river through Baranquilla, along with dead cows, old sofas and other detritus and are a well known hazard to sailors passing by, such that the advice is to stay at least 6 miles off the coast. The 'express' bus made several stops around the city, picking up and dropping off customers, then headed inland and across country towards Cartagena. All along the roadside and in the hedgerows there was rubbish. We passed through small towns, slowing now and again to pick up street vendors who came aboard to sell arepas and drinks or to spout at everyone, before jumping off at the next town. We passed into cattle country, with fincas and haciendas along the roadside, where there were small lakes. There were trees with beautiful yellow flowers and then a burnt out bus teetering half on and half off the road. After 5 hours and 10 minutes, we arrived at the transport terminal, 14 km outside of Cartagena, the journey taking 40 minutes longer than advertised. I doubt that the bus ever managed the trip in less than 5 hours, as there are very few pieces of dual carriageway and lots of slow moving juggernauts. In the bus station, I paid 1200 pesos to use the public toilet. Toilet paper was extra and dispensed, by the sheet, from a machine on the wall. Luckily I had tissues. Taxi prices were posted on boards inside the station, so we knew that our ride should be 25,600. Our taxi said 30,000 but we didn't quibble. Cartagena was as frenetic on the roads as Santa Marta, with motorbikes and scooters weaving in and out of the traffic, across forecourts and in the wrong direction, with pillion passengers generally without helmets. Some bikes has husband, wife, child and dog on board. We reached the old town, where all the streets are one way and we jumped out at the top of our street, to save the taxi going around the block. He was lucky to pick up a fare back to the transport terminal immediately. Just before we reached our hotel, BHaus Boutique Hotel, Pete disappeared. There are no prizes for guessing that he had entered the bar across the street and was busy ordering beer. We sat at the open window, looking out onto the street, which was full of colour and noise. Our beers arrived; not the usual Aguilla or Club Colombia but craft beers. I found a menu and discovered we would be shelling out £20 for these 2. Ladies in long, swirling dresses in Colombian colours and with bowls of fruit on their heads were trying to entice Pete out to dance. I took a photo and money was demanded. I only had change and the lady wasn't happy. We would soon find that this is the way in Cartagena. It's a tourist city, unlike Santa Marta and everyone is in your face and after your money for something or nothing.
We walked across the road and checked into the hotel. Our room was very small, with a double bed, 2 bedside tables, a fridge, TV and small hanging rail and a shower room. It was a bit tired and need of some maintenance but we had a plentiful supply of hot water in the shower and the bed and pillows were extremely comfortable. The only window looked onto the small, central atrium, so the blind needed to be drawn but we had aircon to keep the room cool. We unpacked and had a quick refresh, before heading out.
Adam and Bev were already in Cartagena and messaged to meet them at a bar / restaurant in the area known as Getsemani, about 10 minutes walk from our hotel. The area is cheaper than the old town, very busy, noisy and colourful. The streets are festooned with bunting, flowers and umbrellas hanging overhead. We located Adam and Bev in El Cabildo, just finishing a late lunch. From there, the four of us went to the park to see the sloths, monkeys and hawks in the trees. Years ago, the sloths had been kept in cages and were brought out for tourists to hold while they had their photo taken. Now they have been released and there are 8 sloths living in the trees. On the other side of the park there was a roller rink and children of all ages were skating round, most wearing vests for a particular club. As we watched, 2 very small, young girls stopped beside us and said hello and how are you? Then they opened their shoulder bags and tried to sell us their popcorn. The hustling here starts at a very young age. Adam and Bev left to go to a cooking class they had booked and we returned to the hotel via the Exito supermarket, where we bought a pack of beer and a bottle of wine, for the fridge. We showered and changed and returned to El Cabildo for dinner, eating filet mignon for a mere £12 each. We wound our way back to the hotel, through the colourful streets of Getsemani, Central and the Old Town, ignoring the menus, trinkets, drinks and cigars that were pushed in front of our faces. It's a well known fact that the tobacco sellers are actually selling drugs, from weed to cocaine. Hardly anyone in Colombia smokes. Back at the hotel, we took a beer and wine onto the rooftop and sat beside the small pool for half an hour before going to bed. We slept extremely well.
Breakfast at the hotel was a la carte, from a limited menu. Fruit, coffee, fresh orange juice and lovely, soft focacia bread came with each menu choice. I chose an omelette and Pete had avocado on toast. Our first stop this morning was the park, so Pete could take photos of the animals with the Nikon. From there, we visited one of the main squares before crossing the road towards the waterfront, taking photos of various buildings, monuments and sculptures. We followed the water down towards the marina and saw Miocene (Mitch and Avi) at anchor, although there was nobody on board. It was getting extremely hot, so we moved off into the narrow streets and soon came across a pretty little square, with 2 small restaurants and tables in the middle. It was peaceful and shady, so we decided to take cover and have a drink. We ordered a bottle of crisp, cold sauvignon blanc and later ordered ribs for lunch. There was a cruise ship in harbour and a walking tour passed through the square, bringing with them the beggars, rapping buskers and trinket sellers. We declined all wares and they moved on, returning the square to peace. Having had our fill, we ambled back to the hotel, via the old city walls and the old town and spent the afternoon in and around the pool, which we had to ourselves, save for a vulture that came down for a drink. The pool was very small and its surroundings needed tidying up but at least it was cool. We had dinner at La Vieja Guardia, on the edge of the old town, near the city walls and a bit off the tourist track, where we weren't bothered by anyone selling anything. We enjoyed conversing with the couple on the next table, who were from the sticks outside Ottawa. They weren't enjoying Cartagena, which they found too busy, touristy and expensive. They were based here for 3 weeks but had cut their stay by a week and were going to Uruguay instead.
On our second full day, we walked along the old town walls, descending now and again to visit squares, monuments and sculptures. The we traversed all the streets of the old town, backwards and forwards, taking photos of all the door knockers, for which Cartagena is famous. We grabbed a slice of pizza for lunch, at the ridiculous price of £1.80, including a bottle of Sprite and returned to our seemingly private pool, to cool down. On our way to dinner, we walked around Getsemani, just to overload our senses with the atmosphere, the noise, colour, hustle and bustle. We ate steak at La Tagina, along with a good bottle of red, served by a true sommelier. I didn't sleep well that night, as there was a lady with a very loud, high-pitched voice and earth-shattering laugh, in the bar downstairs, until after 2am.
On Tuesday we had to be up early and at breakfast by 7.30am, in order to catch the bus back to Santa Marta. There had been a rain shower and the pavements were damp. Because we were early and the only ones in the restaurant, all of our food and drink arrived at once, the meal felt rushed and made me feel uncomfortable. We collected our bags, checked out and walker down the street to find a taxi. The first taxi wanted 40,000 pesos, so we sent him on his way and he was replaced within seconds by another yellow cab. This one wanted 30,000, the correct price, so we climbed in. It was rush hour and the city roads were packed. The buses have their own lane, so that's the best way to travel. The inside lane has everything from taxis, cars and scooters to donkeys with carts and hand-pushed carts. It was absolute chaos and we were glad we weren't driving ourselves. We arrived in plenty of time, checked in for the bus and sat in the waiting room. Here we were approached by the tourist police, who warned us about taxi drivers that might rip us off and wanted to know about our experiences. The bus arrived on time and we climbed on board, taking our seats near the back, on the left hand side, this time. We seemed to be making good progress but the journey was uncomfortable, with the driver speeding up behind other vehicles then braking hard. The aircon wasn't working very well and I started to feel queasy and hot. I managed to get some air and recover a bit, in the toilet, where there was a small, open window. We made it to the transport terminal in Baranquilla, where we stopped for about 40 minutes, with no idea what the hold up was. Eventually we set off and headed across the suspension bridge to the causeway through the mangroves. We saw herons, vultures and pelicans. With the polarising tint on the bus windows, the sea and sky were amazing shades of blue and turquoise. The surf wasn't as high on the beaches today, as the wind had calmed. I pointed out the logs on the beaches to Pete, as he'd missed them going south. We could see the mountains behind Santa Marta now and were looking forward to getting off the bus. After 6 hours, we arrived and picked up a taxi for 13,000 pesos back to the marina. I was desperately tired and weary, so we had a quick tea at La Fresca (not to be recommended) and had an early night.

There was a mass exodus of yachts and catamarans on the 16th February, as a decent but not perfect weather window had opened up. The evening prior, we had a drink with Graham and Ai, who were departing at 6am. Nobody knows how they got clearance to leave, as everyone else had to go through immigration in the morning and they didn't open until 8am. Nobody would have appreciated the loud music which played all night, even if it made a change from the howling of the wind. The two Danish boats (Rainbow was one) got away first, although not as early as they would have liked, Gael and Cecile were next and Mitch and Avi didn't depart until after 11am. Others anchored out also managed to get away early. We heard from Mitch and Avi, after they arrived in Cartagena, that the swell had still been quite high and rolling. Everyone else was heading to Panama, a longer sail.
After lunch, we headed to the pool at the Marriott and for once there wasn't a ripple, as there was no wind. There was a DJ and the music was extremely loud. I enjoyed it, especially the salsa beats but Pete wasn't best pleased. On our return, Pete did the laundry while I showered and washed my hair. Doing the laundry involves the drinking of beer, as the bar is close to the machines, which you need to keep an eye on, so Pete doesn't mind this chore. I joined him and then we were joined by Hugh and Debbie and Hugh's colleague, Nick. Pete and I returned to Ouzo for dinner. Most of the locals wear white when they go out in the evening, so I wore my all white, lacy designer dress; a bargain from a charity shop in Yarm. Overnight, there was again no wind.
On Monday, having failed to find any in the local shops, I ordered new walking sandals, for both of us, from Amazon for delivery to the marina. Pete had been persuaded to go diving in the afternoon with Hugh, Debbie and Nick, so in the morning he took his demand valve and computer over to the shop for servicing and a new battery respectively. There was laughter at his 40 year old kit, for which parts are no longer available. Pete would need to hire kit for the dive. Everyone left at 1.30pm and I headed to the captains' lounge to progress my Spanish and write a blog. At 1730 hours, the divers had not returned and the sun was getting ready to set. Should I be concerned? 20 minutes later, as I sat in our cockpit, I heard the unmistakeable sound of dive cylinders clanking as they were lifted from a boat. They were back and meeting in the bar at 6pm. They had been to the famous Taranga Park to dive and had actually done two dives, not one. Nobody seemed pleased with the quality of the dives though, from bad visibility to a lack of sea-life and bad dive management by the dive guide. Following a quick drink (smoothie for me), the five of us headed to Magdalena for dinner. It was very upmarket and there was a live band playing but it was still inexpensive. I stuck to water, being a Monday. The wind blew overnight, until 2am, when someone flicked the off switch.
On Tuesday we awoke to find that there was no power and no water on the dock, or anywhere in the marina complex. The day was taken up chatting with various friends and an afternoon trip to the pool. There was no wind again and it remained calm overnight.
Wednesday we went to Vivolo Cafe for breakfast and I had the biggest chocolate croissant I have ever seen. It's a shame that the coffee wasn't as good here as it is at Brot. To Pete's dismay, I spotted a flyer about events at Vivolo, which included a salsa and samba night on Thursdays. After provisioning at Exito, the big supermarket (you can even buy a motor-scooter there), we headed to a cervicheria for Pete to have some lunch. I wasn't hungry. The afternoon was spent researching Panama clearance protocols and places. Panama Cruisers and San Blas Cruisers Facebook groups provided plenty of answers but not many of them agreed. The day ended with most of our friends around the bar at Cambiante. It only takes one person to sit down there for everyone passing by to end up there. It continued to be calm overnight.
Thursday was all about the navigation and clearance options for Panama, San Blas and then the onward journey to the Bay Islands of Honduras and we eventually have a list of available options that we can make decisions on nearer the time. San Andreas, Providencia (both Colombian islands), Grand Cayman and the Swan Islands, off Nicaragua all have potential for stop offs along the otherwise long route, as it's necessary to keep away from the shallow water and reefs which stretch up to 100 miles off the northern Nicaraguan and Honduran coasts. We had lunch at Lulo and I discovered that I don't like arepas, a local corn-based pattie that comes filled or topped with anything and everything. To me, the pattie tasted like it had been made with sour milk, so I just ate the topping of chicken, salad and salsa. In the evening, along with Shane and Mickey, we went to check out the salsa night at Vivolo. It turned out to be a class and very basic. We joined in for 10 minutes but it was too hot and we were getting sweaty, so we left and went to Reses 13 for dinner. They had salsa playing there too, so I had a little dance while the boys were paying the bill. The four of us had a final beer on board Muirgen, before we headed to bed, ready for our early start to Cartagena tomorrow. It was calm again, overnight.