On Tuesday, 6th May, we were up just before 7am, to leave the marina and set sail. We were fully provisioned and Pete just had to nip to the gas station to replenish his beer supply and grab a cheap bottle of gin. Trini was up on deck, next door, to wave us off. The engine went on at 0740 hours and we switched all the instruments on. The autohelm controller was bleeping and saying 'no pilot'. It had done this before, so Pete went into diagnostics and ran the self-test, which usually resets it. This time, it didn't work. Perhaps it was damp, after all the rain, or struggling to fix a position in the marina, after being inactive for so long. Pete decided we would leave and sort the problem on the way and we slipped the lines at 0755 hours. We slowly negotiated the reefs, removed and stowed lines and fenders and headed around Linton Island and the autopilot came on. There was a slight blip five minutes later but then everything was ok. There was no wind to speak of and not much swell, so we wouldn't be able to sail, which had been expected. Our fuel tank was full and all of our spare diesel cans were full too, in anticipation of a long time under engine. It was warm and sunny, so with engine and solar power charging the batteries, we switched on the watermaker. It wasn't long before we could see ships, in the distance, coming and going from the Panama Canal, at Colon. A couple of swifts kept landing on the boat and were trying to get into the sailbag to make a nest. Pete shooed them off and eventually they got the message that they weren't welcome, sweet as they were.
Under engine, we were only doing between 4.5 and 4.7 mph, which was painfully slow. The DC to DC, which controls the power going into the lithium batteries, was also getting incredibly hot, so at 0940 hours we switched it off to cool down. By midday, we were monitoring ships passing through the separation zones offshore of the canal. We would be passing south of the separation scheme and through the area where many ships were at anchor, waiting for their scheduled passage through to the Pacific. We had originally planned to anchor in the Chagres River, 7 miles west of Colon, for the night but we changed our minds and decided to do our night sail tonight and continue on to Isla Escuda de Veraguas, a remote island off the coast. We let people know about our change of plan, so they wouldn't unduly worry about not hearing from us. We were sure to lose phone signal as we travelled further from the shore. At 1240 hours, we had 118 miles to travel to the island, which is known for its beauty and peace.
After lunch, we backflushed the watermaker and turned the DC to DC back on, as it had now cooled down and the lithium batteries were down to 13.25, about 80%. We started to feel a slight breeze, about 30 degrees off to starboard, so we raised the mainsail, to create some lift and we had another half a mile per hour of speed. We had now cleared all the anchored ships and there were no more vessels in sight. The breeze started to strengthen, so we put the foresail out and turned off the engine. We were sailing at last, with 8mph of wind and travelling at 5.7 to 6.0 mph, a vast improvement. It was a lovely day, offshore but there were dark clouds over land and we could hear thunder. Then we could see the rain coming down on shore and Pete said he had seen a fork of lightning too. We agreed that we had made the right decision to continue through the night, rather than spending the night at anchor, up a river, in the jungle, with stormy weather. There were a lot of logs in the water in this area, probably washed down the river during the torrential rain that we had suffered in the last couple of weeks. There was also one large, unidentified, green object, which we managed to avoid.
By 1715, the engine was on and we were motor-sailing, as the wind had dropped off too much to sail. Pete topped up the diesel tank with 40 litres, to keep us going through the night. We switched the hot DC to DC off again. After tea, we dropped the sails, as there was no wind and they were flapping, the sun had set and it was starting to get dark. There was thunder and sheet lightning all along the coast. At 7pm, Pete went to bed and left me to do the first night watch. The sea was flat and it was pleasant sitting aft on the starboard side of the cockpit. We were registering 1.5mph of true wind behind us, so from the east. All of a sudden, I smelled wet earth and I knew that something was happening. Sure enough, the wind veered suddenly to come from the south at 10mph. Five minutes later, there was a massive fork of lightning on the land, which made me exclaim. It was so big, bright and direct and it scared the pants off me. I have never seen fork lightning like it and not when there's sheet lightning around. Once I had calmed down enough, I let out a reefed foresail, on the starboard side, to take advantage of the breeze. At 9.15pm, with everything calm, I was very happy to hand over the reigns to Pete for a couple of hours. I dosed occasionally while Pete had an uneventful watch, only taking in the foresail when the wind dropped off again. He had seen no lightning at all and when I relieved him at 2345 hours, we were motoring at 3.9mph, with an adverse tide. Pete stayed up to chat for 10 minutes before falling into his bunk. No sooner than he had done that, the sheet lightning started up again, in the distance. I wasn't too worried until, five minutes later, I witnessed another very direct fork. Twenty minutes later, I heard a change in the engine noise, so took off the revs. Three times I put the revs on and off and the noise was there. We had something around the prop. Pete heard the revs going on and off and emerged to find out what was wrong. I said I thought we had something round the prop and that we might clear it by putting the engine in reverse. Pete listened to the engine, agreed and put her hard in reverse, which fixed the issue and then he went back to bed. Soon there was sheet lightning coming from the north, as well as the south and the sky was pitch black everywhere except behind us, where I could still see a faint glow from Colon. We were heading between two storms. The lightning eased somewhat as it passed overhead and then it disappeared completely, to be replaced by a 12 knot wind, on the nose, followed by torrential rain. Because of the poor visibility, I increased my 360 degree lookouts to every 10 minutes. I was happier with the rain and no lightning, to be truthful. Eventually the rain and the wind eased and I settled down to complete my watch until 0245 hours. This time, I definitely slept, while Pete had yet another uneventful watch, until 0600 hours. The night was almost over but we still had 35 miles to go to the island.
At 0620, I switched the DC to DC back on, having noticed that the engine battery was overcharging. I didn't want it to overheat. I saw rays of sunshine emerging from the dark clouds behind me and felt happier. There was heavy rain to the north and as it closed on us, it pushed the wind up to 15mph on the nose and our SOG went down as low as 2.2mph. There was nothing I could do. I didn't want to increase the engine revs, with the DC to DC getting so hot. I watched the plotter and wished hard to see a 3 at the front of our speed and then, as the wind started to ease, an occasional 4. At 8am, Pete got up and 5 minutes later we had sargassum seaweed round the prop, dislodged by putting the engine in reverse again. Gradually, as the tide turned in our favour, our SOG increased to 5mph. At 9am, I went to bed, mainly to pass the time but did actually sleep for almost 90 minutes. When I awoke we could see the island on the horizon, 15 miles ahead. We decided to make water again, to use some of the power the engine was producing but although the pump was running, we were getting no water pressure. We would have to investigate when we were at anchor. A large pod of dolphins joined us around 11am, swimming and jumping in the bow wave and for once it was calm enough to go up to the bow and watch them. Dolphins often arrive when you are facing or have faced adversity and they really lift your spirits. From there, everything went well and we arrived at our destination before 2pm. The water was clear and shallow and the bottom was mostly sand, with the occasional rock. There were only two other yachts anchored along the two miles of the bay and we were well spread out with lots of privacy. We anchored with 2m under the keel and just far enough offshore to feel a gentle breeze and hopefully avoid any bugs. The island is stunning, with golden sand beaches in little coves between sandstone outcrops, with a backdrop of dense, green trees and shrubs and no mangroves.
We had lunch and a swim, swimming out over the chain until we saw it disappear into the sand. The anchor was dug in really well, so we could sleep easy tonight. There was no phone signal so we were unable to let anyone know we had arrived but hopefully people would realise why. The issue with the watermaker turned out to be an airlock, which was resolved by backflushing the system for 30 seconds, so we were able to make water in the afternoon. It was very hot and sunny, so we had regular dips in the sea to cool off and put the sun awnings up. We ate our chicken dinner sitting on the starboard side of the boat, to avoid the sun. Another yacht arrived just before dark and we went to bed as soon as it was safely anchored. We left the hatches open and enjoyed the light breeze and the sound of birds and there were no bugs. I was awoken by thunder at 0330 hours and could see sheet lightning flashing in the distance. I powered down the mobile phones and put them in the oven with the tablet and the handheld VHF. We were now stern to the island but far enough from the shore. Pete awoke at 0410 and went up into the cockpit. We were now surrounded by sheet lightning and it was very low, under the clouds. It started to rain heavily, half an hour later, so the hatches had to be closed. You couldn't see twenty metres from the boat. Eventually we slept and we didn't wake until after 9am, too late to motor the 55 miles to Bocas, without potentially arriving in the dark. The closer, Bluefields anchorage, 30 miles away, was too deep for us to anchor without the windlass to pull up the chain. Although I was concerned that people might worry that they hadn't heard from us, we decided to stay another night.
The weather was quite cloudy and it was clearly raining on the mainland. The biggest yacht from the anchorage had gone but another, smaller yacht, had arrived and dropped anchor east of us. We went ashore in the dinghy, to explore the little coves and beaches, before it became too hot. The sea was quite choppy inshore but we managed to beach the dinghy without getting too wet. There were a couple of shallow, cool, freshwater streams, probably as a result of the heavy rain but you couldn't follow them far due to the thick undergrowth. We didn't see any wildlife other than birds but we did find turtle tracks, leading round in circles to an egg nest. We returned to the boat, swam and relaxed on board.
In the evening, we sat on the foredeck to take advantage of the breeze. Just before dark, a Dutch yacht arrive, dropping it's anchor a good distance from the shore. The lightning started again, including an amazing pink fork. We put the electronics back in the oven, lifted the outboard engine and dinghy, took down the anchor ball, removed the sun awnings and turned on the anchor light. There was a starry sky and we were closing in on full moon. We spotted the plough, which was upside down, compared to how we're used to seeing it in the UK. At 8pm, we hit the sack, setting the alarm for 0550 hours. Just after midnight, we had rain and the lightning flashed again for two hours from 3am. I heard thunder but it was well off in the distance.
The alarm went off and we were ready to go by 0600 hours. We would have breakfast on the run. It was a cloudy morning with a very light breeze, as we made our way out of the anchorage and into deeper water, before turning west. We motored over quite a few large rocks but nothing shallow enough to bother us. At 0625 hours, we set a course of 300 degrees and set the fishing line to trawl. Within 10 minutes, the reel was screaming and Pete reeled in a lovely rainbow runner (part of the mackerel family, we think). We tried to land it in the bucket but the fish was too big and kept jumping out. Then it caught its tail fin on the rail and it escaped off the hook. Pete let the line out again, while I went down below for the landing net. By the time I returned, to the cockpit, Pete was reeling in another one. The landing net did its job and we had a lovely fish for gutting and filleting. The line went out again and we raised the mainsail to provide a little bit of lift and half a knot of extra speed. Behind us, we could see that another yacht had left the anchorage and was also heading towards Boca del Toro. At 0740, we caught another, slightly smaller, rainbow runner, landed it and Pete set to gutting both fish and with the power from the new inverter, vacuum packed the fillets.
All of a sudden, the wind speed and direction display went blank. The transducer is at the top of the mast, a vulnerable position and we had occasionally had issues with it before. We assumed it was damp, or the connection shorting, after all the rain. There wasn't much wind and we could see the courtesy flag flying, so it wasn't an issue on this trip. Thirty minutes later, the autohelm started playing up again, bleeping and saying, 'no pilot' but then coming back on again. However, the outages quickly became more frequent and prolonged, until I had to take the helm. Next, the depth disappeared momentarily off the plotter above the coach roof. Were all these issues related to damp? Then, Pete spotted that the rev counter for the engine was flickering up and down between 1500 and 2000 revs, although the engine sound wasn't changing. Could that be the belt slipping, after we had removed it to move the alternator and access the heat exchanger, back in Linton? The other, larger yacht, had been slowly catching us and by 0850 hours, it was parallel with us, about 200 metres away, having given us a wide berth. Consequently, we didn't exchange greetings. As the yacht pulled ahead, we lost all data to the instrument heads in the cockpit. The charts were still visible on the plotter but the position, course over the ground, heading, depth, boat speed and AIS data had disappeared and it didn't come back on. Everything other then the depth was still being shown on the chart plotter, down below, above the chart table. The instruments upstairs are slaves to the master plotter downstairs but nothing other than the chart data was being communicated, although all the heads had power. Pete checked the light on the autohelm compass and it was no longer green, which was bad news. I continued on the helm, using the manual compass alone, while Pete phoned Chris at Kildale Marine, in Hull. Pete and Chris ran through some diagnostics and Chris thought that we may have a problem with the alternator, given the overheating of the DC to DC, the overcharged engine battery and the rev counter issue and that this could potentially have fried the instruments or the cables. However, the instruments run off the house batteries, not the engine battery and we hadn't allowed the house batteries to overcharge. The other possibility was a lightning strike, which could have damaged the alternator and the instruments, cables or ports.. It wouldn't have to be a direct strike, just a lot of lightning in close proximity, or a secondary strike (a strike on another yacht nearby, that had transmitted through the saltwater). As often is the case, while we were feeling despondent, we had a visit from a pod of dolphins. Now we needed to manually helm, under engine, for the remainder of the day. The breeze disappeared and we dropped the mainsail, removing most of the shade from the helm position. I had been on the helm for about 90 minutes, so Pete took a turn for half an hour, before we settled into 15 minute stints. If you weren't on the helm, your job was to monitor the plotter down below. Every so often, our position moved on the plotter upstairs, suggesting that there was still some limited communication between the master and slave. At 1145 we had to change course to avoid a ship, although it was our right of way. Luckily we didn't have to divert into too shallow water. After four long hours, we were on approach to the marked, buoyed channel to reach Bocas Marina, on Colon Island. We booted up the tablet and used Navionics to find our way through. There was no sign of the navigation buoys. Navionics was reported as accurate around the Bocas del Toro but you are never sure whether your GPS position is 100% accurate on the tablet, so a lot of care was required. The final approach, through the shallow water between the island and the reef was particularly unnerving without a depth gauge. Pete took the helm and I stood on the bow but the water wasn't clear enough to see anything. We called the marina on the VHF and they allocated us a berth and said they would be on the dock within five minutes, to meet us and help us in. They said that we could choose a portside or starboard berth and come in bows or stern to, as we liked, as there were two berths available, side by side. Fenders needed to be low and we mooring lines were required on both sides, front and aft. We negotiated the narrow gap between a large, blue yacht, on the hammerhead and a small island of mangroves and we could then see that the moorings were like those in Amsterdam, with a very short pontoon and two piles, which had to be lassoed on your way into the berth. At 1650 hours, we were safely moored up. The office was already closed, so there was no rush to check in. We switched off and headed straight to the bar for a much needed beer, not caring that we were hot, sweaty, burned and probably smelly. Showering could wait!

After the Easter holidays, we paid a visit to Suminapa for an update on our Victron batteries. Originally, they were expected to be delivered within 2 to 3 weeks of ordering on the 13th March. Since then, we had spent 3 1/2 weeks in San Blas, 5 nights at anchor in Linton and 9 nights in the marina. However, at the point of ordering, the batteries were out of stock in Miami and so didn't make the ship to Panama. Today, there was good news; the batteries were in Panama and would be picked up on Friday, so that Alex could start the installation on Monday 28th April. Annabelle would confirm to us on Friday that everything was going to plan. Friday came and around 3pm we went to the shop. Annabelle and Alex had been halfway to Panama City to collect the batteries and other imports when they had received a call to say the goods could not be collected today; it would be Monday morning. That would delay Alex by half a day. On Monday, we went back to the shop after lunch. Alex was there and said that Annabelle was still on her way back from Panama City, as there had been more delays. There had been a lot of rain and storms and some roads were compromised. At least she had our batteries and other pieces of equipment, so Alex would be with us before 10am on Tuesday morning. At 1140 hours on Tuesday, we went to the shop in search of Alex, who had not turned up at the boat. There was a problem. The battery management system (BSM) that had been sent with the Victron NG batteries was not compatible. Alex had been calling Victron and suppliers for solutions. There was only one compatible BSM anywhere in the US, because they are made in China and imports had been suspended as a result of Trump's tariff wars. The available item could be sent priority airmail, a cost which Suminapa would cover but the price of the unit had increased to US$1000, which was ridiculous. Our other option was to have Redodo batteries, which have a built-in BMS. They are much cheaper than Victron but are also bigger. We went away to measure our battery space and ensure they would fit, as this was our preferred option, as there would be no further delay and we would save at least US$1500. The option was viable, although Pete needed to build a shelf for the second battery. Alex and his apprentice arrived after lunch to commence with the installation. The irony is that if we had chosen Redodo in the first place, the batteries could have been installed as soon as we arrived back in Linton. Alex worked until 6pm and we plugged the fridge directly into shore power, as we had no battery power on board. We used the solar powered Luci light in the cabin. It was unbearably hot overnight without the fans though. During the night, during wind and rain, the wind controller lit up and then started emitting noise, as it was receiving energy from the wind turbine but was not connected to the batteries, so we shut it off. The overnight rain filled a bucket. By the end of the next day, we were drowning in wet oilskins and wet towels, with nowhere to get them dry. The howler monkeys were going bananas at the rain too and could be heard, howling loudly all around the bay. Alex continued to work on the battery installation, fitting the charger, the DC to DC and the inverter. Everything was extremely neat, with new bus bars; positive connections on the left, negative connections on the right. There was an issue with the inverter over-charging, which Alex thought might be the cable, which was perhaps 110 volt instead of 220. A fix would be needed tomorrow. Thursday 1st May was a public holiday in Panama, so Alex wasn't with us for long. He fixed the issue with the inverter by changing the charger, which was faulty and left the batteries to fully charge from shore power and the fridge plugged into the inverter. We had a better night with the fans on and we were up before 7am, on Friday. Alex returned and found an issue with the engine battery overcharging. After some investigation, he removed the old VSR, which balances the charge between the engine and house bank and that resolved the issue. Now we just had to monitor and test the batteries. We unplugged from shore power so the batteries were fully reliant on wind and solar, not that there was any wind and none forecast for the foreseeable future. Everything seemed to be working fine and the batteries held sufficient charge through the night, with both fridges and the fans running. We continued to test and monitor over the weekend, with a plan to depart the marina on Tuesday, allowing us to provision on Monday.
Meantime, we had eventually managed to get our Bocas Marina booking and haul out confirmed by email, which allowed us to make our homebound travel arrangements. After researching options, we decided on a KLM flight from Panama Tocumen International to Amsterdam, with a connection to Manchester, leaving on the 29th May. There was a connection available to Leeds Bradford, which would have been more convenient but cost £100 more per person. Liz at Bocas Marina, then booked us internal flights from Boca del Toro to Panama City for the day before. I booked a hotel near Tocumen airport for the night in between. We will need a taxi to transfer from the Bocas flight, as it lands at a smaller airport on the opposite side of Panama City. Our lift out was scheduled for the 26th May, so I also booked us into a small hotel on Colon Island, close to the airport in Bocas, for two nights. The lift out is actually on the mainland, so we would need a water taxi from Almirante, back to Colon Island. The last step was to book a train from Manchester to Selby for the Friday evening and that's where everything fell down. An off-peak single ticket was £92.60 per person, as was the cheapest advance single. I checked Saturday and the price was the same. To top it all, there will be engineering works, so the trains are either replaced by a bus or you have to make 3 changes and go via Manchester Victoria. It turns out that a taxi back to Selby is a cheaper option. Getting home from Panama has turned out to be very expensive, so I am glad we saved money on the batteries.
While in the marina, we did make new friends. Mitch, a US citizen who has lived in Japan for many years, was great company and his big cat was very comfortable, especially with the aircon on. Phil and Trini, Restless Spirit, from Australia, pulled into the berth beside us and we had drinks a couple of times. They were next in line for lithium batteries, after us. Mike and Fae arrived to do some work on Selkie, a lovely boat a few spaces down from us. They actually live in Bocas now, so we would hopefully see them again once we had made the passage west. On the Monday, we said our goodbyes to everyone and ended up with a later night than we had intended, given our planned early start the next day.

Linton Bay Marina is quite small, having only 2 main pontoons but it has seemingly reliable electricity and water at all berths. The washrooms have limited capacity but are air conditioned, clean, functional and have warm water. There is an onsite laundry service, which isn't overly expensive, diesel and unleaded are available at the Terpel gas station and you can get gas, either propane in large bottles, or Luis refills camping gas bottles.
The boat yard at Linton is a reasonable size and they have a hoist that can lift pretty big boats. If you want to lift out for hurricane season, book early to avoid disappointment. However, note that this area is renowned for lightning strikes. Boca del Toro, 200 miles west, is a safer option. There are plenty of services available in the yard, from steelwork and welding, to fibreglass repairs and construction, boat cleaning and polishing, project management etc. The office can supply a list of contractors. The work is supposed to be of a good standard but you may need to push to get a quote and a start date.
Alex and Annabelle, from Spain, run the marine supply shop, Sudinapa, which is located in the main marina building, on the ground floor. Annabelle speaks excellent English and Alex is pretty good too. The shop has a good supply of marine consumables and spares but more specialist items or expensive items may need to be ordered and imported from the US or Europe. We were unable to buy an 8mm gypsy for our windlass or 8mm chain, without a significant wait (3 months for a Lewmar gypsy). Alex is a certified supplier and installer of Victron products, including lithium batteries and we have engaged him to supply and install for us. He is extremely knowledgeable. Prices in the shop are high, due to the import costs.
Customs and immigration are located in a small, white building, close to the marina gates. The customs guy will also act as agent to obtain your Panama cruising permit. The cost of the permit is $185 per year and the agent's fee is a further $65, cash. If you want to save the $65, you can sail (30 miles) or catch the bus to Colon (2 hours and take your ear plugs). UK and European citizens can stay in Panama for 90 days without a visa; US and Canadian citizens can stay 180 days. Apparently, if you overstay, you can pay an overstay fee in Panama City before you leave but I don't know any more than that. There is an air conditioned ATM just in front of the customs and immigration building. You will need this, as most outlets in the marina only accept cash. The exceptions are Terpel, Sudinapa and the marina itself.
There are a number of small stores within the marina grounds. The Terpel shop sells beer, soft drinks, nibbles and mobile top-up cards and has outdoor, undercover seating, with electricity power points. Beer is around $1 for a 330ml can and it's nicely chilled. Charlie, who has a container towards the rear, accessed via a wooden bridge over the drainage ditch, sells frozen meat and fish, cooked meats, cheeses, dairy products, fruit juice, soft drinks, cereals, fruit, vegetables, tinned and bottled products. He has almost everything you need to cook on board but it's at a price. Charlie is also willing to pick up other items for you, e.g. kitchen rolls, on his way in. Charlie is from Nicaragua and is Spanish speaking but he speaks some English. On the east side of the marina, there's another white container which houses Gold Coast Supplies. They sell beers, wines and spirits but are more expensive than Terpel. The wine there is very good value though, $6 for a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon. On Tuesdays and Fridays, the veggie van calls and sets up stall on the west side of the marina, in front of Nancy's. He usually arrives around 11am and stays for a couple of hours. The produce is excellent and stays fresh for many days. You can purchase salad, fruit, vegetables and camerones (prawns, gambas, crevettes ). Fresh baked bread can be obtained from Polish, also known as Captain Blu but needs to be ordered when he says he is going to bake on his boat, out on his mooring. He will usually announce his intentions on the Linton Bay WhatsApp group, which you can join by scanning the barcodes on the notice boards around the marina. In the small town of Puerto Lindo, there is a Chinese supermarket, which sells everything from food and beverages to car and basic boat spares. From the marina, it's about a 7 or 8 minute walk, turning right from the marina gates. Alternatively, you can take your dinghy to the small dock in the bay but make sure you lock it up.
The main restaurant and bar, the Black Pearl, is upstairs in the main building. It is generally open from 11am in the morning but you can sit and use the power points and Wi-Fi there at any time. The Wi-Fi has a reasonable reach about halfway up the pontoons in the marina. The service here is lamentable and the food isn't the greatest. The menu never changes and quite often half of it is unavailable. Do not have the ribeye steak; it's cut too thin and is therefore overcooked and tough. The beef bourginan comes with pasta; sacrilege, especially given the 'chef' is French. However, it is reasonably tasty. Pete loves the pulpo (octopus) Thai style. I love the chocolate mousse!
Breakfast and lunch are great at Karla's Fruit, which is situated just in front of Charlie's, to the left side of the main access road, when walking out of the marina. It's outdoors but has a small amount of undercover seating. I recommend applying insect repellent before going here. The smoothies are varied, tasty and cheap, as is all of the food offered. It's mainly fruit, salad bowls, toasties and empanadas. The service is excellent and the staff are very well turned out and take care with cleanliness.
Right at the back of the marina, behind the west end of the boat yard, you will find Nancy's, also known as the Blue House. This is a Colombian restaurant, also outdoors but with undercover tables and chairs. We haven't eaten there yet but the food looks good and it's always busy around lunchtime. The coffee and drinks are cheap and Nancy is very friendly.
So, in a nutshell, Linton Bay has just about everything that you need.
From Linton Bay, you can visit Panamarina, a small marina in the next bay to the west. There are no pontoons here, just trots (moorings for the bow and stern). It's extremely sheltered here, hidden in a small bay, protected by an island and several reefs. From Linton, you can take the dinghy through the mangrove tunnel, you can walk, take the bus or a taxi, or hitch a lift with someone who has a car. It takes an hour to walk at a good pace, longer if you are sauntering or stopping to look at the wildlife along the way. Turn right out of the marina and pass through Puerto Lindo, over the hill until you come to Sammy's, another Chinese supermarket. Take the steps down here and turn right onto the dirt road. Don't go if there's been a lot of heavy rain! Follow the road, passing a couple of bars and a French eco hotel. We saw toucans, a woodpecker, hummingbirds, a cat stuck up a tree, horses and cows and numerous species of butterfly on our walk. You will find the gates to the marina on your right. If the gate is closed, just unhook it. You will walk by the boat yard and find a small bar / restaurant and marine supply shop on your right. There is no hoist here. They use a tractor unit to lift boats, which limits the size of boat they can haul out. The marine shop sells basic supplies only. The reason for coming to Panamarina is the restaurant. It's French owned and the food is cheap, plentiful and absolutely delicious. It way outshines the Black Pearl in Linton. Breakfast is served 8 to 10am, lunch 12 - 2pm and dinner from 5 - 9pm, with last food orders 30 minutes before closing. Drinks can often be obtained outside of these hours. If the weather is clement, you will usually bump into a lot of people from Linton here. That also means your chance of a lift back is pretty good.
To get to Panamarina by dinghy, you need to motor across the bay and locate a small gap in the mangroves. The gap isn't visible until you get quite close but you can often spot other boats coming or going. You need to be watching carefully for the reefs. It's great if you can follow or watch where the local boats go. Whatever, take it slowly and have someone looking over the front and side of the dinghy for the coral heads. Once you're inside, keep to the left, where the water is deep. Part way along, there is a turn on the right side which leads to crystal clear water, lovely for a dip but look out for the reef down the middle of the main channel. You can usually spot the tree branches sticking up out of the water. This is a dead end, so you must retrace your route back out and around the reef before turning west again for Panarmarina. The route through the mangroves narrows and becomes a tunnel. There is plenty of depth all the way through. You will see various wading birds along here. When you exit the tunnel, you will see the trots at the marina. Keep the security cabin (on stilts), on your port side and proceed slowly to the dinghy dock, keeping a look out for sunken mooring buoys and shallows. The restaurant is up the track. We saw spider monkeys here. Enjoy! Once you have eaten here, you will definitely want to come back. Do have the ribeye steak here. It's fat, juicy and fabulous.

17th April, the day before the Easter holiday marked four years since we lost Dad and I took some time to reflect at the start of the day, before heading to Karla's for breakfast. Next stop was Charlie's for groceries and we were pleased to learn that he would be open on Good Friday and Saturday, only taking his usual Sunday as holiday.
We had planned to dinghy over to Panamarina for lunch but the wind was up and the water too choppy for our little dinghy and engine. Instead, Pete had a second shot at sealing the bathroom window with sikaflex, as it was still leaking and the sikaflex appeared not to have set first time around. It was Rivals Round in the Superleague, so we listened to the Castleford -v- Wakefield game online at BBC Radio Leeds. After the pre-game interviews and discussions and before kick-off, the commentators left the mic open, presumably by accident, as their very unsuitable conversation was being broadcast. As well as offensive language, they, or someone else within listening distance, discussed an unfortunate incident with a young lady, at a bottomless brunch event. I am sure there must have been complaints. The match was quite entertaining too.
In the afternoon, Tom messaged to see whether we wanted to go to Panamarina for dinner. The wind had dropped and the sea had calmed, so we agreed to go with him in his large and powerful dinghy. On the outward journey, we made it through the reefs with ease, following close behind a local boat. We sat outside the restaurant, chatting to a Dutch friend of Tom's and watching the spider monkeys coming and going across the track. As a result, it was after 6pm by the time we ordered food. The ribeye steaks were thick cut, tender and perfectly cooked as usual. You really can't beat it for US$13, including a plateful of fries. By the time we were climbing in the dinghy, it was dark. I laid on the bow of the dinghy, wearing my head torch, which was the only light we had. We located the entrance to the mangrove cut through and wound our way around the curves, with me angling the torch towards the shore so that Tom could see where to steer. As we approached the reefs it became difficult to see where we were and the light didn't shine far enough ahead to see the coral heads. We touched a few times, even moving slowly. Tom's dinghy has a solid bottom and survived but our dinghy would have been ripped to shreds. Pete and I decided that we would only go to Panamarina for lunch, from now on.
Good Friday started off wet and we spent a few hours listening to the rugby, Hull FC lost to Hull KR and Saints lost to Wigan. The intermittent rain stopped and the sun came out, so around 11 am we met up with Tom and went for a walk, missing the Leeds Rhinos -v- Huddersfield game, which Leeds won easily. From the marina gate, we turned left and walked along the road for approximately 40 minutes. There wasn't a pavement but traffic was light and nobody drives particularly fast and they are good at pulling out around you. We were looking for a small church, where we would take a right turn, along a dirt road, through a small village, with the requisite dogs roaming around and then uphill into the forest. We saw lots of different butterflies, including a beautiful, graceful blue morph, with its five inch wingspan. Pete had one in his collection but it was far better seeing one in the wild. Unfortunately it was too far off to photograph. Further up the hill, as Pete was photographing another butterfly, I saw something unusual. It was small and black, with iridescent turquoise markings. At first I thought it was a spider but then it hopped and I realised that it was a frog. Pete and Tom managed a quick look at it but it hopped off before Pete could get a decent photograph of it. Pete identified it as a poison dart frog. We continued uphill until we came to a junction. The dirt road went left, through an iron gateway. Straight ahead was a grassy track, which Pete and I climbed to see where it went. All we could see was more forest and jungle. We had no signal, so couldn't check the route on Google Maps. We decided to retrace our steps and look for the dart frog again, which we saw very briefly, in a flash of colour. We also saw another blue morph. When we arrived back at the church, we went straight across at the crossroads, down towards the sea. Here, the beach was covered in sargassam seaweed, several feet deep and the smell was horrendous. We quickly returned to the road and marched the 40 minutes back to the marina, where we ate lunch at Karla's.
We went to see whether Luis was around, to discuss our A-frame modifications but he wasn't there. Our camping gas bottle was in his container but still empty. We were also unable to find out whether our lithium batteries had been delivered as the marine shop was closed until Monday, Alex and Annabelle having a well-deserved three day break. Pete went to the Terpel gas station shop and was horrified to find that they weren't selling beer due to the holy day. However, he managed to get some and a bottle of wine from the liquor shop, in the white container, which was open for once. We spent a pleasant evening in the cockpit, had aubergine and mozzarella in tomato sauce for tea and slept comfortably.
On Saturday, we lazed around until 10am and then I set to deep cleaning the galley, taking the stove to pieces to get into all its nooks and crannies. We listened to the Catalans -v- Salford match, sitting in the cockpit, while watching the storks strutting up and down the pontoon, while next door's cats went berserk. Various wading birds came to balance on the lines in order to fish. Luis messaged to say he would come round in the morning; Easter Sunday!
Happy Easter! It's awfully humid and we spent the morning sitting on board, under the fans, waiting for Luis, who never showed up. We had an early shower, a beer at Nancy's and returned to cook a curry for tea. It was starting to get dark when Pete found a cockroach in the cockpit. He killed it with the roach spray and disposed of the body overboard. Our neighbours had left two bags of rubbish and an empty pizza box on the pontoon between us which was very likely what had attracted the roach. In the end, as it didn't appear that the neighbours were going to dispose of their trash tonight, Pete picked it all up and took it to the bins. They didn't mention it next morning but they haven't left any rubbish there since. We had torrential rain, so had to close up and go early to bed. It was uncomfortably hot and humid on board overnight, although the second half of the night was dry.
Monday wasn't a holiday in Panama, so everything was open and back to normal.

We hung up our wet gear and went out for coffee and to buy provisions. We had lunch on board and hunkered down for the afternoon, listening to the rugby, as the rain continued. There were occasional dry spells but not much sunshine. At around 6pm, we were able to connect to shore power. We went ashore to shower, now that we had access to the marina facilities and I was surprised to have warm water. After a quick drink in the bar, waiting for a downpour to end, we returned to the boat to find that the power had gone off again. We were back to using the Luci light (inflatable, solar light) in the saloon, to save the batteries. We didn't have a bad night's sleep, despite the heavy rain, mosquitos and the fenders squeaking as they rubbed on the pontoon. Early morning, we heard a thud, as the side of the boat hit the wooden edge of the pontoon. The fenders had moved along the rails, due to the constant rolling, leaving the widest part of the boat exposed.
We headed to the bar for coffee but it was closed. As the WiFi was on, we stayed to take advantage of that and ended up stuck there for three hours, when a violent thunder storm hit, bringing with it torrential rain. The rain was cascading off the roof like a waterfall. We stayed put for lunch. There's no official dockmaster at the marina on Sundays but Pete collared one of the marinaras, who agreed to let us move to an inside berth which was now available. The Polish-flagged boat next door had a young German couple on board with their young daughter and two cats. They explained that many Germans register their boats in Poland as it's much cheaper. One of the cats, Minerva, gets on and off the boat and goes for walks around the marina. The other one stays aboard at all times. Before long, the power came back on. At twilight, we were chatting to Fabia, next door and we were bitten to death by mosquitos. We fitted the mosquito nets to the hatches, sprayed, lit a lavender incense stick, plugged in the mosquito repeller and turned the fans on, which we could now use with the shore power. We had dinner on board and played Backgammon for the first time in a while. I am easily winning this season's tournament, so Pete is not enjoying playing. There was another storm, with lots of thunder and lightning but no rain here. We had a fantastic night's sleep, with airflow, no rain and no rocking. I feared I would fall out of my bunk due to the lack of motion.
Now that we were in the marina, we could set to doing the maintenance jobs which cannot safely be completed at anchor. Today's mission was to change the motor in the anchor windlass and see whether we could turn the gypsy round, as the teeth have worn away on one side. The motor was changed without issue but Pete couldn't get the gypsy off the windlass. He had removed the woodruf keys but there appeared to be burrs holding the gypsy in place. Our neighbour lent us a bearing puller but it wasn't quite big enough, so Pete headed out into the boatyard to find someone with a larger one. With the right sized tool, the gypsy came off but unfortunately the plate on the outside was bigger than the one on the inside, so it couldn't be turned around. With the windlass in one piece again, Pete refitted it in the anchor locker, we tested it and it was working. The old motor, which had been repaired last season, went in the spares box. The work deserved a beer, so we went to Nancy's at the Blue House, on the far side of the marina grounds. Back on board, we measured our cabinet to see whether the new batteries would fit or whether we would need to add a platform for them to sit on. We were pleased to find that the batteries would fit nicely, without any work. We had another great night's sleep, with no rain.
On the 15th April, our cruising permit arrived. It had taken 35 days, way longer than the 20 days we were told. We were now legal in Panama, although it seems the only people who ever want to see the permit is the marina office staff. Today's job was to remove the heat exchanger, on the engine, to check for debris. Pete pumped the antifreeze out into a 3 litre coke bottle, then, having closed the engine seacock, removed the cover on the impeller, to drain the sea water, via the impeller, into a bowl. Despite the bowl, the bilge ended up full of dirty, brown water. Next, Pete disconnected the water inlet pipe. There was so much calcification that the pipe and therefore the water flow, was restricted to less than a centimetre. The end of the heat exchanged was also covered in calciferous material and shredded weed. It was no winder that the engine was overheating. I suggested that we soak the pipe in white vinegar, to dissolve the limescale, or whatever the chalky deposit was. To remove the heat exchanged, Pete had to move the alternator and the fan belt. Because they build the engine, then spray paint it red, all the nuts and bolts are covered in paint, making it difficult to undo them, so it was a beggar of a job getting the nuts on the alternator undone. This end of the heat exchanger was also covered in the calciferous deposit. I went to Charlie's to buy more white vinegar to fill another coke bottle, so we could stand the heat exchanger in it. As well as soaking everything, I used an old toothbrush to clean everything. Pete also wanted to change the pencil anode on the engine but the used one was well and truly stuck, so he went in search of a workshop with a vice and plenty of wrenches. By the time he returned, everything was clean and ready to go back onto the engine. We put everything back together, opened the seacock and started the engine. It sounded much better but there was a leak from the front of the heat exchanger. Pete drained the antifreeze again and the seawater again and moved the alternator, which was much easier this time and took the cap off the heat exchanger. The o-ring, which looked specially designed for here, with a ridge on each side, was not sealing effectively. Pete tried again but we had another, bigger leak. Everything was drained and taken apart again. This time, we decided to use an ordinary o-ring, both having come to the conclusion that the old one had started life ordinary and had been compressed to form the ridges. Third time lucky, there were no leaks. I then had the wonderful job of emptying and cleaning all the bilges. It was disgusting but they looked great by the time I had finished and I managed not to break any fingernails. We would be able to see next morning whether there had been any slow leaks. We went for a shower and then to the bar for a well deserved drink. Tom arrived and was planning to eat, so we stayed for tea too. There was only a choice of ribeye steak or a burger. I chose the latter and the guys had steak and I think I won, as the steak was small, thin and overcooked. The burger and fries were at least edible. We slept well again, pleased with our work that day.
The next morning, we treated ourselves to breakfast at Karla's Fruit. Pete loves the banana smoothie. I like the omelette, the ham and cheese toastie and the fresh fruit bowl, so alternate between the three. Back on board, we back-flushed the watermaker, necessary because we weren't making water in the marina and checked the bilges, which were nice and dry. Pete replaced the alternator and the fan belt and started the engine, which was running sweetly. We could see water flowing freely through all the transparent pipes and there were no further leaks. I spent the rest of the day catching up on writing the blog. Pete went to see Luis, as recommended by Alex, about modifying our A-frame to take an extra solar panel. Luis asked him to return at 6pm. We were having a drink in the bar and were joined by Alex, from the marine shop (Sudinapa), so Pete missed his rendezvous with Luis. We returned to the boat and Pete was asleep by 7.30pm. Our critical jobs were complete.

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.