Pluie de Nuit departed the anchorage at West Lemon Cays a few minutes before us and we could see the 34 footer riding the swell as she progressed slowly between the reefs. We followed, confident in the Navionics chart this time, so using a little more power to counteract the wind and swell on the nose. When we were well clear of the northern reefs, we turned to starboard and put the foresail out and we had a good downwind sail, through the Eden channel. From there, Gael and Cecile headed in a more southerly direction, whereas we turned slightly more north, heading for Holland Cays. There were a fair number of boats out sailing today and they were mostly heading in the opposite direction. As we were on a port tack, we had to give way. One of the catamarans was actually Graeme and Aye, who we had hoped to meet up with but they were making their way back west, to reach Colon before the strong winds forecast for the end of the week. Five miles out from the Cays, we lost the wind, which would have been on the nose anyway, so we put the engine on and rolled away the sail. Using the Navionics chart we assessed the various anchorages, where we could see other yachts and catamarans, deciding which would provide the best shelter come the winds on Friday. A lot of boats were tucked well in between numerous coral heads but we didn't trust the charts to go in those tight, shallow places. People who have been here a long time use the Bauhaus charts, which we didn't have. Those charts show the waypoints into all the little anchorages and were prepared by Mr Bauhaus over the years he spent in San Blas. We could see rain coming towards us and hoped we might just manage to get ahead of it but the squall caught us for a couple of minutes. We eventually settled on the Hot Tub anchorage, a large lagoon protected by islands to the west and northeast and by a reef to the south. There is an entrance on the west and east sides, both very narrow and shown as five metres on the chart. We took the long way round and took a gamble on the east channel, as we could at least see the waves breaking on the reefs here. Pete took the helm and I went forward to see the best route through. The reef off the island to starboard wasn't shown at all on Navionics but could clearly be seen and we made it through without issue, before heading towards the anchored boats at the other end of the lagoon. It was squeaky bum time as we passed in front of a catamaran and the depth dropped to 0.8 metres below the keel, before climbing quickly to 8 metres. We anchored with 3.5 metres under the keel, dropping the anchor on sand and letting out just over 20 metres of chain. The holding was excellent here. Pete put up the anchor ball, noting that the yacht alongside also had one up. They must be Brits, we thought. It wasn't long before Mike came over to see us, having determined that we must be British, given the anchor ball. He turned out to be South African but his wife, Laura, is English although South African born. Mike said he sometimes flies his motoring cone when under engine with a sail up and joked that he flies ball, diamond, ball when too drunk to sail (means restricted in ability to manoeuvre). Mike confirmed that there are crocodiles here, so to look carefully before and during snorkelling anywhere near the islands. Laura had taken a jump when kite-surfing and landed on top of one quite recently. We were impressed that they are still kite-surfing at 70 years of age. Mike generously gave us the password to his Starlink, so we could get online, with Pete's sim being very patchy out here. While we were talking, the boat from Lemon Cays passed, at high speed and Stacey's dad shouted and waved to us.
Next morning, we had a visit from a Guna family in their dugout canoe. We gave them water and lollipops, for which they were grateful but they were asking for magazines, maybe paper which we didn't have. More yachts were arriving and it was starting to get busy in the anchorage. Pete's beer supply ran out, so he took the dinghy round to Banedup, 1.8 miles away, to buy stock from the bar there (where we had anchored when we first arrived from Santa Marta). When he returned, he reported that the anchorage was quiet and flat calm, so would be the place to be when the strong winds hit on Friday. After tea, we visited Mike and Laura, on Gilane, for a chat and a beer, then returned to Muirgen to relax in the cockpit before bed. It was a comfortable night at anchor.
Happy birthday, Joanna and Heidi. We decided to leave the Hot Tub and anchor off Bug Island, Banedup. Pete had difficulty lifting the anchor as the teeth were wearing out. He had to help by pulling up the chain by hand, taking care not to get his fingers in the way of the windlass. Mike had told us that the west channel was the better one to use, as the bottom was soft if you happened to touch, so we went that way, even though it was the longer way around. I think we must have gone over the reef shown as being further south as our depth went down to 0.2m under the keel, before slowly rising again. We rounded the big reef and once in deep water, we dropped the holding tank, where the sewage could disperse away from islands, people and boats. Now familiar with the reefs at Banadup, we made our way into the anchorage and headed towards the beach at the northeast end. We dropped the anchor in 2.9m and after letting out the chain and reversing, we ended up with 7m under the keel. To port, we had a small, grey catamaran called 'Selah', which is apparently the word for the short time to relax between the reading of the psalms. The weather was cloudy but very warm, a forewarning of the impending storms. Throughout the day, the anchorage filled up as boats tried to find a sheltered place to stay. Valencio came by selling his wares, beautiful embroidered wall-hangings or table mats. He told us we were safe here from the storm. He thought he would be back tomorrow, if we changed our mind about buying but then he would stay home, on the mainland, for 3 days. Our next visitor was a veggie boat and we bought a bottle of Merlot, 12 beers, half a dozen eggs, potatoes, onions, peppers, tomatoes, cucumber and lettuce, which cost a whopping $51. All the veggies went into a cloth bag for weighing together, as the price is per pound, whatever you buy. We were now stocked up with fresh produce. Late afternoon, we rowed ashore and dragged the dinghy up the beach and went to the bar for a drink. It's a pretty place, with swing seats around the bar and hammocks and tables in the water with palm roofs. I was a little perturbed by the Doberman wandering around, although it seemed friendly enough. We ate on board, without any further alcoholic beverages. During the night, the wind picked up and there was heavy rain and sheet lightning. We made regular checks of our position. Pete went up into the cockpit to look around and all was ok. As he laid down again, in his bunk, he noticed a light going by us and jumped up to see whether another boat was moving. Then came the shout, 'Donna, get the engine on. We're dragging.' We were very lucky, as we had somehow managed to pass sideways between the Najad and the large catamaran than were behind us. They must have swung in opposite directions, leaving a gap for us to slide through. There was no moon, due to the clouds but the occasional flash of lightning helped us to see the boats around us. I put the deck light on, so Pete could see to take the bridle off and bring the anchor up, while I took the helm and steered to avoid other boats and the small reef, off the beach, to the west of us. It was a tense time. Coincidentally, I was wearing the same nightdress as the night we had to re-anchor in the storm in Antigua the previous year. I think I should get rid of it now! With the anchor up, we swapped places and Pete steered us forward, back towards the beach, using Saleh and the yacht at the other side to guide him. I shouted as I thought there was a large plastic bag in the water but as we moved alongside it and the deck light caught it, it turned out to be an eagle ray. It stayed with us as I dropped the anchor, on free-flow, so it went down fast and let over 30 metres of chain out, before I tightened the clutch. We ended up with 8.9m under the keel and about 5 or 6 metres further from the beach than before. We left the bridle off, just in case. Pete dosed in the cockpit until dawn. I went below but was far too keyed up to sleep and without the bridle on, the chain was grating noisily. In the morning, Pete snorkelled to check the anchor and said the tip was dug in but in sand and weed, so we reversed it in, put the bridle on and, just to be on the safe side, we put the kedge anchor out as well, at a slight angle to the CQR. 2 anchors are better than 1! If we dragged again, we would return to the Hot Tub. We had a visit from Rob (NZ; Wife is Maggie) from the Najad, who asked about our adventure in the night. He had seen us go by but thought we had just arrived and were being brave coming through the anchorage in the dark and the storm. He was very thankful we hadn't hit him when we said we had dragged.
When we had been at anchor for 12 hours, we decided it was safe to go ashore. The weather was more calm than it had been in the night. At the bar, we met Tom and his friend, Charles, who were on a 60+ foot monohull, anchored on the outside of the reef, in 15 metres. Charles commandeered me and had a lot of questions about where we had sailed, my favourite experiences and so on and he was happy to chat about his life and relationships. We were there for 2.5 hours and I had just 1 Aperol spritz. Back on board, we found that our last packet of mince was off, so we ended up with chilli from a tin, spiced up with onions, peppers and a drop of vino tinto. It was actually quite good. With the wind howling and nervous from the night before, Pete slept in the cockpit to keep watch. I couldn't sleep, so took a watch at 2am, telling Pete to go to sleep down below. I played spider solitaire on my phone, looking up every couple of minutes to check our position. Normally, we are critical of boats having coloured lights and strobes but tonight it was helpful to have a bright blue light on the boat to our starboard side, slightly aft, as it was easy to see our position relative to him. Rob's white anchor light, at the top of his mast, was also very bright and visible. We were swinging through an arc of about 90 degrees. Saleh, to port, was swinging too but the yacht to starboard wasn't moving much at all, so I suspect he had a kedge anchor out to keep him straight. That meant that we were quite close when we swung towards him. After 90 minutes, I went back down below and turned to face the cockpit, where I could see Rob's light ranging left to right, as we swung. It wasn't as windy as expected and we didn't drag, although it did rain and I eventually fell asleep as the dawn broke and I slept late.
In the morning, the guy (Frank) from Selah shouted over to invite us for coffee. We thought perhaps he wanted to ask us about our anchor drag experience. However, it turned out that they weren't aware we had dragged either, although they had noticed we were further back than before and thought we had let more chain out. Frank and Suzanne were from British Colombia and Alberta, in Canada, two states I visited when I was 15 years old. The coffee was very good and I had two cups; unusual for me. Suzanne also brought out homemade cookies and a bowl of pineapple and watermelon. Frank provided lots of useful information and showed us the Bauhaus charts. He told us which app we would and sent a link to the charts to download. We agreed to meet them around 4pm in Ibin's bar / restaurant, on the other side of Bug Island. We went ashore and walked around the island. On the northeast side, there was a lot of debris, washed up and several places where people had burned their rubbish, leaving behind burned cans and bottles. We found Ibin's, built on stilts over the water, facing the reef and the full force of the northerly wind. We shared a pizza and watched the swell rolling in and crashing into the reef. There was a torrential downpour, so we had to move undercover. We followed the conch shell lined pathway across the island to the leeward side and called into the bar there for a quick beer with Tom and Charles, before rowing back to the boat. I ordered early Mothers Day flowers for my Mum, as she was going away early in April and I wanted her to enjoy the flowers before she went. It was a struggle keeping the mobile signal long enough to choose, checkout and pay but eventually I was successful. We had one drink, back at Ibin's with Frank and Suzanne and had an early night. We didn't eat, feeling bloated from the lunchtime pizza. We put the drag alarm on and hoped the batteries would survive. I struggled to sleep, perhaps due to the major dose of caffeine in the morning. At 3am, with the batteries showing fair to good, I switched the instruments off, as it wasn't really windy any more.
After a few days of cloud, the sun started to break through on Sunday morning. Out beyond the reef, you could see the big rollers coming in and the monuments of spray when they hit. It was a little swelly in the anchorage but there was no wind. Frank called by to say they were going to do a rubbish burn later, if Pete wanted to join them, which he said he would. Frank agreed to pick him up around 1pm, as he has a larger, faster dinghy and engine and they go to the uninhabited island opposite. I watched a beautiful turtle off the bow of the boat. In the afternoon, we went ashore for a beer but the beach bar had no ice, so we walked across the island to Ibin's, where the lovely Ibelisa runs the show. We decided to stay for an early dinner. Pete had lobster, which he said was delicious and tender. I had tune, pan-seared in garlic butter, which was equally as good. We chatted with a group of people from the US, who were on a charter catamaran and they were amazed that people actually did this for most of the year. We also met Mark and Lainie and ended up returning to the boat in the dark. We laughed at the toilets at Ibin's, which are in huts made of palm leaves but have air freshener spray, which would just go out through the walls and roof. At 1am, we were awoken by a long, shrill whistle, followed by a commotion on the beach. Then there were fast dinghies coming by to go ashore, more shouting and then the dinghies returned. We surmised that people from some of the charter boats had stayed out late, or been left ashore. By 0115 hours, all was quiet and calm again.
On Monday morning, we awoke to see a very high tide. There was hardly any beach visible in places and all the logs from the beach were floating in the water. It was only half moon, so we weren't on springs and there's hardly any tide here anyway. The waves were still crashing into the reef, to the north, so perhaps it was that which was causing the rise in the water level, as the reefs to the south and the 2 islands form a lagoon. Pete went ashore to pick up the bread that we had ordered from Ibin's. We had ordered a small focacia but the one that he gave us was about 10 inches, by 6, by 3; enormous. It was also delicious and still warm. We gave some to Frank and Suzanne. A local Guna came by in his dugout canoe and asked for 10 dollars for anchoring. He had what appeared to be official receipts but Pete refused to pay. Eventually the man shrugged his shoulders and left. Having already paid for a cruising permit for Panama, another one for San Blas, plus a tourist fee per person, it seems somewhat unreasonable for anchorages to charge as well. Nobody can own the sea bottom. It may only be $10 but if we visited 15 anchorages in the month, that would be $150 on top of the $335 already paid. There was a mass exodus of boats today, following the stormy weather but a few new ones also turned up. Bill and Carol had invited us over for drinks, on Perfect, at 4pm and we were half way there, rowing the dinghy, when an official Guna Yala Congresso boat pulled alongside Muirgen and beckoned us back. Pete thought we were about to have our hands slapped for refusing to pay the anchoring fee. However, it turned out that they just wanted to see our San Blas cruising permit, so all was well. We had a good time on Perfect. Bill and Carol had also heard the whistle in the night. We all agreed that the crowds of backpackers, who come in on the big scruffy old sailing boats, on their way to or from Colombia, are spoiling some of the islands. They are like floating hostels, with 18 bunks below decks and the guests are screaming and partying all day and half the night. Bill played guitar and sang a little, including one of his own songs, a sailing song. Carol and I saw an eagle ray jump twice. It wasn't just a small jump and a splash but 2 major leaps, 2 to 3 metres high, with a glide through the air with wings turned up. If only we could have frozen the moment long enough to take a photo. However, the image is now immortalised in my memory. It was a quiet and calm night on board, the boat facing northwest, as there was absolutely no wind. Pete was worried that we were dragging, which made me nervous and unable to sleep, even though I knew it was just the way we were pointing that had altered the proximity of other vessels. There was lightning and a little rain and then it felt hot and humid.
On Tuesday, after doing a beer run, we prepared to depart Bug Island, Banadup and return to the Hot Tub, just around the corner; a contrasting anchorage, with no bars, restaurants or tourists. First job was to retrieve the kedge anchor, in the dinghy. There was no need to lift the dinghy, for such a short trip, under engine, so the anchor was soon up and we were negotiating the reef to leave the lagoon. We were more confident passing through the reefs, at the east side of the Hot Tub, this time, having done it before. Mike and Laura were still there, on Gilana and we anchored forward of them and off to their starboard side. My phone immediately picked up their Starlink wifi and started pinging with notifications. Mike came over to chat and Bill and Carol arrived in their dinghy, having come to see what the anchorage was like. We decided to go snorkelling over by the mangroves, so took the dinghy. Pete was hoping to see a crocodile but we failed to see much at all. The water was shallow and very clear but there were only a few small fish, so it wasn't worth getting in for. We continued on to the reef. Here we saw one small yellow and black fish but nothing else. I wasn't wearing a hat or sunglasses, having expected to be in the water and I was starting to burn, so we returned to the boat. There we found a ray and two ramoras under the boat. Perhaps the best snorkelling was right here, on the sand. We saw the ray again later and Pete saw a large trigger fish while he was cleaning the boat bottom. There was a strong current, which was perfect for swimming on the spot beside the boat but I think I burned my nose and forehead doing this, with the sun reflecting on the water. We had an early night and slept comfortably, confident in the anchor with the shallow, sandy bottom.
Pete slept until 9am and woke to a sunny and breezy day. I would be keeping out of the sun today, even more so than normal, as my nose and cheekbones were feeling a little sore. We were hoping for a veggie boat, as we were out of fresh produce other than potatoes and onions but we were out of luck. We would need to get creative with our 3 packs of bacon. At 4pm we visited Mike and Laura for a chat. They said they had a PriceSmart delivery coming in the morning and the man might have extra items on board, so she would call Pete when the boat arrived. Otherwise, we may need to go to Green Island, which has 3 or 4 veggie boats a week. We ate the last of our chorizo sausages, in a Spanish risotto for tea. It was a breezy night and I didn't sleep, probably not tired after the good sleep the previous night.
We woke to find that Pete had missed a call from Laura at 9pm. She was going to order us some things but thought it might now be too late but she would try messaging the man. Their delivery didn't come. A veggie boat came into the anchorage but only went to the large catamaran with the Trinidadian lady on board. Laura said it was the guy who rips you off, so not to worry about him. She then sent a message saying there's a veggie boat at Ibin's, at 2pm, so Pete went over in the dinghy but the boat wasn't there. He returned with 2 bottles of Spanish rioja and more beers. 15 minutes after he arrived back, Ibelisa messaged to say the veggie boat had arrived and he would come by on his way home, this evening, or in the morning. He never came. A small cruise ship passed by, a very rare sight in these islands. A local dugout came by selling crafts and we gave them lollipops and water. Then we turned our attention to preparatory work for fitting the new stern light, which involved cutting a plastic board for it to afix to and drilling the required screw holes. Next we located the wires for the bow lights, under the headlining in the forepeak. With limited options, we made a potato gratin, with onions and bacon, for tea, which was actually delicious. We lifted the dinghy and played 3 games of Backgammon before bed and had the best night's sleep for a long time.
Friday morning, we had bacon and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Laura messaged to say that our veg order would be coming later this morning, with theirs. Pete set to cleaning the cooker and the kitchen sink while I handwashed smalls, swimwear and nightwear. It would soon dry in the breeze, even though there was little sun today. We had the watermaker running too. Bill and Carol arrived on Perfect and anchored 100 metres behind us. Then the food boat arrived, so Pete went over to Gilana to collect our order. The boys were giving him all sorts of things, that he was sure we hadn't ordered, so he asked Laura to confirm what she had ordered for us and started giving items back. He came back with 36 beers, so it hadn't taken Laura long to work Pete out. He also brought back 9 x 1 litre boxes of Clos wine, bought from Laura at $4.50 a box, that they had in stock but weren't drinking. I hoped it would be drinkable. We did the wiring for the new stern light, pulling the old Navtex wire through with a string on it, then pulling it back with the new wire attached. It was fiddly and involved crouching in small, awkward spaces to help the wire through the various plastic pipes, without detaching it from the string. Bill and Carol called for a drink later in the afternoon and we shared knowledge of marinas, anchorages and our experiences. The big thing we learned was that there is much less lightning in Boca de Toro and even in Colon, than there is in Linton and San Blas. The lightning season starts later, is shorter and much less intense. So, we decided to look at lifting the boat in Bocas instead of Linton, after our lithium batteries have been fitted. It's about 180 miles from Linton to Bocas, so it's not too far, plus it's a beautiful area of islands to explore. An internal flight is needed from Bocas to Panama City though, to get home. We sampled the Clos Cabernet Sauvignon, chilled and it was actually pretty good, especially for the price. We messaged Ibelisa, in Spanish, to order some bread to pick up in the morning. During the night, it became very calm and then we were suddenly hit by strong wind and rain.
Pete took the dinghy across to Bug Island to pick up the bread order. He was gone almost 2 hours and didn't take his phone. I tried not to worry that he had capsized the dinghy, it being a little rough today and concentrated on doing Pilates, then learning Spanish. Eventually he returned, without bread. They only had coconut bread, had him wait for other bread to be baked and then had only baked more coconut bread. We set the watermaker running again and then finished fitting the stern light and were pleased to see that it worked. Then we fitted the bow lights, which required a lot of angle grinding. They also worked, so we were now legal again for overnight sailing, a must if we were going to Bocas. Next up, we bought 2 pigs; black with pink stripes round their bellies. Actually, we had a call with Jerry and Tegs, who had just taken delivery of 3 pigs, for their woodland, 2 of which we had promised to pay for, as their wedding present, 2 years ago. We had pasta for tea and Pete wasn't enjoying it so, while I wasn't looking, he decided to ditch his over the side but unfortunately the china bowl went with it. It was a beautiful, peaceful evening in the cockpit but overnight, we had strong winds, rain and lightning; a true calm before the storm.
During the night, the UK put their clocks forward, so we were now 6 hours behind, making it more difficult to time video calls. It was also Mothers' Day, so I placed a call home, catching my Mum visiting her friend across the road. Pete went ashore to burn our rubbish. While he was away, Perfect departed the anchorage and a Danish yacht arrived. When he returned, I reminded him about the bowl on the seabed and we both went in with snorkelling gear to locate it. It had been washed or eaten clean and was lying to the starboard side of the boat. Pete dived down to retrieve it and spotted the ray feeding under the boat. We watched it for a while. There was another large fish with it, picking up the scraps. There was also a miniscule yellow tang, just under the prop shaft, hiding from predators. Then we saw a large turtle, with 2 ramoras attached. It was using our anchor chain to scratch its shell. The Danes came by for a quick chat and it turned out we had met a few of the same people, including Rainbow. I emailed Claire Froggatt at Pantaenius, hoping that we would be able to upgrade our insurance to fully comprehensive now that we were staying in Panama for the hurricane season. It would be useful if we happened to take a direct hit by lightning. Next, I tried to create an account for Pete's Panama data sim. All was going well until the verification code didn't come by text. Perhaps it didn't work on Starlink wifi, only when the sim was active for data and calls. We only had 1 top up card left, which would last 5 days. We planned to leave in the morning, so went over to Gilana to thank Mike and Laura for their help and Starlink access but they were busy on the phone, so we lifted the engine and dinghy and took down our sun covers. It was another calm evening, so would there be another storm? There was a red sky after sunset but there are no sheep here! We played Backgammon again before bed. There was no wind or rain overnight until we awoke at 8am to a good breeze.