Safely anchored behind Polish, we put the dinghy in the water, lowered and fixed the outboard in place and headed for shore, to have tea at the Black Pearl. We bought some beers at the gas station and returned to the boat, to sit on the foredeck, where there was the slightest breeze. There was a sudden grating noise; we had touched the reef. Pete pulled some chain in to pull us away. We went to bed and soon heard the grating noise again. It was dark and moving would be risky, with so many unlit boats at anchor or on mooring buoys around us. We decided to put the kedge anchor out to pull us side onto the reef. We dragged the anchor up from the aft cabin and affixed the chain and rope and piled it all into the dinghy. Pete rowed out and threw the anchor over the side, returning to the boat to give the end of the rope to me. I pulled the rope in until it grew taut and then kept pulling to bring the stern round until we were well off the reef. Then we had a good night's sleep, waking only to close the hatches when it rained, at which point it became hot and humid in the cabin, with no battery power for the fans. We woke at 6am to find that everyone was facing south, other than us, as we were held facing east, by our kedge. The New Zealanders behind us were moving, probably because they had come close to touching a yacht on a buoy, as a result of turning 180 degrees. Alex, from the marine shop, told us that the mooring buoys are illegal but the authorities don't do anything about them and the increasing number is making it difficult to find a safe place to anchor. Boats at anchor typically have 40 metres of chain out in 12 metres of water, whereas moorings may only have a few metres, meaning the boats swing very differently as the wind or tide changes.
My first job, even before getting dressed, was to change the bedding. I might as well do it while I was sweaty! Once dressed, Pete retrieved the kedge anchor, safe in the knowledge that we were facing the reef, not stern on to it and then we lifted the main anchor and moved away from the reef and away from boats on buoys. That meant going further out, to a less sheltered area but we would be safer there. We dropped with 9 metres under the keel and put 35 metres of chain out. We were now confident that the sea bottom here was sand and mud and excellent holding, so were less nervous about anchoring at depth. We were ashore by 9am. We spoke to Annabelle, in the shop, who informed us that our batteries hadn't arrived as they had been out of stock in Miami and missed the ship. She hoped they would arrive next week but would follow up with the carrier. Next stop was Klara's Fruit, for breakfast, Pete enjoying his usual banana smoothie. Then we paid a visit to Customs as we hadn't received our Panama cruising permit. He checked through his pile and it wasn't there, so he phoned Panama City and confirmed that it was still there and would be in Linton on Friday. We had coffee at the Black Pearl and bought provisions from Charlie's, including a pack of ribeye steaks. Charlie told us we could but mobile top up cards at the Terpel (gas station) shop, so we headed there, buying beer as well. We also located the laundry. Then we spotted Bill, from Perfect. We had knocked on their catamaran, in the yard, earlier but had received no response. Bill told us they had hit a reef after leaving us in San Blas and the sacrificial piece of the left hull had broken away. The cat was in the yard for repairs and they were heading home to the States for a couple of weeks. Their cat is a custom-built Maverick and the company owner has stopped building boats and moved on the camper vans. All he could do was send the specifications over for someone to manufacture a new hull but that would probably be quicker than building one and shipping it from Europe anyway. We returned to Muirgen to put away our provisions and do some admin jobs. We had been charged another month by Digicel France, although we had only signed up for a 12 month contract, which had expired in February. I opened a case with Revolut, mainly to prevent us being charged for any further months and then I located the original email with the contract and emailed Digicel to request a refund and to cancel the contract. Responses from both companies was surprisingly quick and the contract was cancelled and the cancellation fee waived after we provided proof of moving outside the area of coverage.
Next up was troubleshooting our engine overheating and anchor windlass problems, so I retrieved the manuals and found the relevant pages. I deduced that the likely cause of our engine problem was fine weed blocking the heat exchanger. However, while we were at anchor it would not be safe to start dismantling the engine, or the anchor windlass, for that matter. We messaged Cortney, at Bocas Marina and Boatyard again, as we hadn't heard anything from him or Fabian and we wanted to get dates and prices confirmed.
It was really humid and uncomfortable on board. We sat in the cockpit and put some music on U-Tube, with the Bose loudspeaker and had a good singalong, in between taking refreshing dips in the water. We didn't think it was loud but when the guy from the big, posh, blue Polish boat next door passed in his dinghy, he completely blanked me. Later, after we had turned our music off, he played music very loudly and again once we had gone to bed. I didn't sleep. We had the nets in due to there being no wind, which meant that the mosquitos were out and it was hot and sticky on board. It rained, so we had to shut the hatches, compounding the problem and we rocked and rolled all night in the swell. However, we were safe and not touching a reef.
On Wednesday morning, I was up very early and managed to shower and wash my hair, in the cockpit before anyone else was up and about, in the vicinity. Next, I sorted out the laundry and applied pre-wash liquid to the collars of all Pete's shirts. We tidied the fore and aft cabins before the day heated up. By 0830 hours we were done. We went ashore and used the wifi at the Black Pearl. There was nobody there to serve us coffee and they now don't seem to open until 11am. For the first time, we went to Nancy's at the Blue House, across the yard, overlooking a swath of green grass and palm trees and the bay. We couldn't believe it when the bill for a large cup of coffee and a bottle of coke was only US$2.50. We went to Terpel for dinghy fuel and checked out the marina showers and toilets, which were surprisingly ok and had aircon, a major bonus. On our way back to the boat, we motored the dinghy around the anchorage to the east of the marina and studied the depth of water, in detail, between the marina and our anchorage. We would need to move to the marina for our batteries fitting and we were conscious of having touched a mud bank before. As we approached Polish's boat, he was just taking his fresh-baked bread out of the oven, so we stopped and picked up a warm loaf. We had roast beef, onion and piccalilly sandwiches for lunch; absolutely delicious. Pete spoke to Rick, a friend made in Grenada and he told us about a good friend of his, originally from Germany but living in the US for many years, who is currently in Panama, sailing his 62 foot ketch. I said, 'He's not called Tom, is he?'. Rick said, yes and his boat is called Pegaso. It was the man we had met several days in a row, in Banedup, at the beach bar, with his friend, Charles. We looked the boat up on Marine Traffic and found that it was in Linton Bay and looking out of the cockpit, it was less than 200 metres behind us. What a coincidence. Rick messaged Tom and we headed over in the dinghy, to say hello. Tom said he was planning to go to Panamarina for dinner, in his dinghy, through the mangrove tunnel, if we wanted to join him later. We agreed to return at 4.30pm and go in his dinghy.
All afternoon, the howler monkeys, on both sides of the bay, were howling away. A couple, on a boat, with young children, were howling back at them, to keep the kids entertained. At 1630, we took the dinghy and tied up alongside Pegaso and climbed into Tom's dinghy, with me stretched out over the bow, checking for the coral heads, as we avoided the reefs on the approach to the cut through. It was great going under the mangrove canopy, seeing the egrets off to the port side. We came out into a lagoon and could see the yachts and cats moored on trots. There were no pontoons, just a small dinghy dock. We skirted the reefs and docked the dinghy, tied off and walked up the road, where we found a small chandlery and a little French restaurant. The food was fabulous and cheap. I had osso buco, tender meat and carrots, in a beautiful sauce. Tom had a beautiful looking ribeye steak and Pete had shrimps in garlic sauce. We would be coming again. We left just before dark but we had only moonlight and my head torch by the time we emerged from the mangroves and had to negotiate the reefs. We thought we had passed them all successfully and Tom hit the gas, only for us to catch a rock, at speed. We bounced over it and continued back to Pegaso, where we collected our dinghy and returned to Muirgen. It was a rock and roll night on board again and it rained heavy once, after which we could re-open the hatches and benefit from a strengthening breeze.
On Thursday, it was sunny and we managed to make water until the tank overflowed. We went ashore for coffee and more provisions, gin, wine and beer. Tom came over for sundowners and we talked about his 20 year long project to map human knowledge across all languages. That led to discussions about dreams and other realities. It was a thought-provoking conversation. It was another night rolling in the swell but it didn't rain, the hatches were open and it was comfortable for sleeping.
I was up at 6am on Friday and managed to do 45 minutes of Pilates before the sun made it too hot and sticky. Pete dismantled the old cool box and I cleaned the bilges. We went ashore to collect the laundry before taking the dinghy through the mangroves, to Panamarina for lunch. I had the osso buca again, as it had been so delicious before. It was a big meal for lunch but you have to make the most of the opportunity. It was decidedly choppy returning to the boat but we managed it without incident. It was a cool and cloudy afternoon and we spent it listening to Hull KR -v- Wigan, while watching the yacht behind us, which was moored with a little chain and then rope, gradually move sideways towards a seemingly abandoned yacht. Eventually, Pete went ashore to try and locate the owner of the dragging yacht but to no avail. It was dark when the man returned and he seemed oblivious to the proximity of his boat to the next one. Overnight, all the boats turned through all directions, the wind rose and the swell was up and down. It rained on and off all night. In the morning, the rain was torrential and looked to be set in for hours. The yacht behind us had re-anchored, so presumably had eventually touched the other yacht during the night. Then there was a flying ant bloom and the insects were swarming all around the cockpit, before landing and slowly drowning in the puddles of rainwater. Yuk!
I checked the weather forecast and it suggested we would have rain for the next week, with very little respite. Our batteries were flat and there was no prospect of them recharging with no sun and no wind. We donned our showerproof jackets and went ashore to see whether there was room for us in the marina. The marina office entrance was also full of drowning flying ants. They were everywhere. The rain must have triggered a blooming. We were told that there were no berths available on the inside of the marina but we could come alongside on the outside, by the lift out and fuel pontoon. We had a look and it looked ok, so we went back to the boat, put our fenders on and prepared to up anchor. Lifting the anchor was a struggle. The chain was slipping off the worn out gypsy and Pete was having to pull it up by hand. The anchor was deep in the mud and I had to motor over it several times to pull it out. Eventually, the anchor was up and we made our way slowly through the narrow channel to the marina, almost touching the mud before turning to starboard towards the berth. Pete reversed down towards the hoist and then approached the alongside berth, portside to. The slight breeze was blowing us on and there were no issues coming in or tying off, with the dockmaster and another boater assisting. Unfortunately, maintenance was taking place on the electrics, so we were unable to plug in to the power, which was frustrating given that was our main reason for moving to the marina. However, we were told that the power would be restored by the end of the day. It also turned out that the outside berths were very rolly, due to the wind and swell but hopefully we would be able to move inside the marina before too long.