I assume it added a couple extra hours to our initial transit, but we entirely skipped the first of the three islands at which we had planned to stop. We arrived at the second after dark at the end of the second day. All of the Germans seemed miserable throughout both days of our open water cruise. I was occasionally a bit nauseous, but for the most part the Dramamine kept this in check, combined with careful avoidance of reading, writing, and anything else that kept my head inside. I stayed in fresh air, and gazed out at the empty horizon. I took every chance to run the winches and help with tasks to keep myself occupied. Otherwise, laying down on deck also helped some. Thus our time on the San Blas Islands themselves was cut from three days to about a day and a half. The visit was still worthwhile, but of course I would have liked to have made all of the stops.

Our first island apparently had a nice reef that was popular for snorkeling. For the second component of our curse, we discovered that there was a whole flotilla of Portuguese Men of War – the most massive and dangerous form of jellyfish in the sea. Goeran had once been stung by one. The venom from these creatures is paralyzing. It causes major cramps and can drown a person if they are stung in deep water. Our captain did not forbid us to swim and snorkel, but strongly advised against it. This stop was at two small islands marked on the map as Cayo Holandes, though Goeran and Hilda knew the place by a different Kuna name.

We were transported in the Quest’s rubber dinghy to the smaller of the two collocated islands for a couple of hours between breakfast and lunch. I walked the walkable part of the island. The others tried to swim, but one of the Dutch girls was almost immediately hit by a small piece of one of the jellyfish. True to form, this did more than just sting. She felt a shooting pain down the nerves in her leg, and got major cramps in her hip flexor on that leg. We didn’t have a way to get in contact with Goeran or Hilda, and so flagged down a dinghy from another vessel, which kindly hauled both Dutch girls back to Quest to be examined and treated. For obvious reasons, the others seemed reluctant to swim. I found a nice place with a lot of clear sand where I felt like I could see any approaching jellyfish, and got out into the water. Eventually, there was a Brazilian family there. I chatted some with the father. We swapped travel stories and advice. They were super friendly folks, and I appreciated the chance to visit.

We were shuttled back to Quest for a delicious lunch, and rested on the boat for part of the afternoon. At about four, we were dropped back off on the larger island to explore some more. Again I swam. Again I walked the circuit of the island. I found some cool shells. I took some nice pictures. I was struck by the amount of plastic trash, as I sort of pictured this area as a protected coastal paradise. In many ways it is the picture of Caribbean escapism. There is trash, though, and the native people living here are doing so in pretty Spartan conditions. Most of these islands have native Kuna people living on them, trying to scratch out a living collecting coconuts for $300 a month, or peddling souvenirs, beer, and rustic travel services to tourists on visiting boats. I found a few of their huts. Goeran brought one family he know some fresh water. Apparently, they have only a brackish well on the island. The water can be consumed in a pinch, but it obviously tastes terrible. As you might imagine, they have trouble keeping any young people around who have had any exposure to the outside world.

Goeran and Hilda have a running relationship with the family on this particular island. They made us all cocolocos, and built a small bonfire for us – an experience we had missed by skipping the first, uninhabited island. Cocoloco is simply a coconut from which you drink out enough milk to allow room for rum, which is then mixed with the remaining coconut milk. I tried one. To me, it tasted better with the rum added, as I am not a huge fan of drinking the water straight from the coconuts. We watched the palm frond bonfire burn itself out very quickly, then headed back to Quest for a late but delicious fish supper. The girls played a good mix of music, and several of us sang and enjoyed the evening, calling it a night at a bit after 10:00.

We motored over to our last island stop early Sunday morning. We arrived in time to eat breakfast at anchor, then shuttled over to the island to explore. We swam some and checked out snorkel gear. The snorkeling was not so good, as the reef where we attempted this was not in very good shape. There weren’t nearly as many colorful tropical fish as there had been when Andrew and I snorkeled in Belize. On top of all that, the water was extremely turbid, making it impossible to see any distance. We quickly gave up. I again walked a circuit of the island. I found a couple of restaurants and very rustic resorts on the opposite side from where we landed. It never took more than fifteen or twenty minutes to walk the entire circumference of one of these islands.

With plenty of time to kill, I got back in the water to cool down, then headed over to the bar to sit with the Dutch travelers. They sat speaking in Dutch, so I had very little to do. I wanted to buy a soft drink. This would cost two dollars, but none of us had anything smaller than a twenty. They didn’t have change, so we asked them if we could buy two drinks – one for my Dutch friend Nik and one for me – and then get change. This, too wouldn’t work. I eventually gathered that this largely was a problem because the Kuna girls working the stand didn’t know enough math to be able to make change for a twenty. They eventually told us that we needed to buy five drinks, and then they’d give us change. So we bought four two dollar drinks and a $1.50 water, and they gave us $5 in change for a twenty. I did eventually use enough of my Spanish to convince them to give me a second five. I didn’t figure it was worth the effort to try to get the other fifty cents. We called it a day and waited for Goeran to come back with the rubber dinghy.

We had some nice wraps for lunch and then spent the early part of the afternoon lounging on the boat. We would depart at 4:00 so as to make it back to Puerto Lindo with our crippled boat by morning on the 19th. As it turned out, we had a very nice assisting wind that allowed us to keep over seven knots for most of the evening. We briefly even hit eight. We arrived in Puerto Lindo at about midnight. Seeing this as a probability, I slept the last couple of hours on the deck going into Puerto Lindo. I woke about when we were turning into the harbor, went to the bathroom, then hit the sack since the hatches would then be open allowing air to circulate in the cabins below deck.

(Continued)