We have read about the San Blas Islands for more than ten years as we got ready to do this cruising business. The photos and stories were always enchanting; of a distant island chain set in the south west Caribbean where gentle, indigenous people live in harmony with their ancient ways.

Well, not exactly! It is true that the Kuna Yala (tribe from the mountains) live in closely knit palm villages throughout the chain of around four hundred coconut covered islands. They moved out of the mountains to escape the heat, humidity and mosquitoes. They used to subsist on fish and lobster caught from dug out canoes, which they supplemented with crops grown along the mainland coastline, and for the most part this is still the case. But, somewhere along the line their independent, self governing body has encouraged them to sell out to blatant commercialism. Their lobster supply is in serious trouble since they began large scale lobster fishing to fill the weekly airplanes sent in by "Red Lobster," a family style restaurant in the U.S. Their traditional dress has also become a commercial enterprise and the women are merciless in their pushiness to sell their embroidered "molas." It may sound cynical but half the time it feels as though the only reason they women still wear their traditional dress and gold nose ring is to request money after a photo has been agreed upon. Ouch!

The Kuna are stuck between a rock and a hard place. They say they want to preserve their traditions and ancient ways, but the 21st century is all around them, creating a pressure that must be crushing to both young and old alike. The couple of islands we have visited are not only surrounded by white coral sand beaches and coral reefs beyond, but also sadly, are ringed in piles of plastic waste washed up onto the shores from the ocean where the Kuna attempt to dump their 21st century trash in the ways of old. The alternative is burning the trash but their coconut husk fires are not in any way hot enough to dispose of modern plastic rubbish.

Each time we have anchored at a new island location hoping for solitude, we are hounded by Kuna after a buck for whatever they can carry in their sail and paddle powered canoes. There are always at least one or two small, very cute children wedged in between the molas, lobster, fish or bananas, and if you do not buy something, the guilt factor is employed, with a pointed demand for a present or sweets for the wretched children, whose teeth at that rate will all have fallen out before they are fifteen. It is seriously depressing.

Something most unsettling occurred the other day. After we had fought off another hard nosed sale, the old boot paddled back half an hour later and, out of her traditional, embroidered Kuna smock pulled a cell phone with charging wire attached. She boldly clambered up onto the deck and rudely demanded we recharge her cell battery for her. This gave her another chance to push her wares and then again no less, when she returned for the phone an hour later.

It has been a long while since our exciting transit through the Panama Canal and despite the existence of cell phones there is no computer or internet available in the islands, which is not a bad thing, but for an enforced blog break. I am glad to have finally visited the San Blas to see things for myself and will be infinitely glad when we can leave.