The Isthmus of Panama, only about 80 Km (50 miles) wide at its narrowest point, is characterised by mountains, impenetrable jungle, deep swamps, torrential rains, hot sun, debilitating humidity, pestilence and some of the most geologically complex land formations in the world.
The islands of the Bocas del Toro archipelago were formed 8,000 to 10,000 years ago when the sea level rose with the melting of the polar caps at the end of the Ice Age. These islands were separated from the rest of Central America and so flora and fauna evolved that are unique to the region.
The archipelago encompasses some of Central America's largest rainforests. It also has 9 main islands, 52 cays and hundreds of islets with coral reefs and mangroves, the latter which we definitely see while riding on water taxis, known locally as “pangas”, or indeed, while in the marina of the Red Frog Island Resort, which is basically built amongst the mangroves.
Because of the biological diversity here, Bocas del Toro has become one of the main ecotourism destinations in Panama and Central America. The seas surrounding the archipelago had more than 95% of the coral species found in all of the Caribbean Sea, but sadly much of it is dead now. A little research provided part of the answer as to why the corals have died; in 2017 the Smithsonian Institute identified hypoxia, the depletion of oxygen in the water, as the main cause, but what caused the hypoxia wasn’t stated. Fortunately the archipelago still has more than 32 mammals that have been documented on the islands alone, including sloths, howler monkeys and the very poisonous tiny red frogs, after which the resort and marina we’re in, is named. The latter brightly coloured, minute amphibian stands out in the forest, unperturbed about becoming a delectable morsel on some predator’s menu, thanks to what they eat. Akin to micro-machines, these tiny, tropical frogs are about the size of a human thumb nail or smaller, but are toxic and, therefore, deadly to consume. The defensive chemicals derive from the ground-dwelling ants and mites they eat. This is how they obtain the poisons that their bright colors loudly advertise to predators. Certain ants contain formic acid, and mites contain alkaloids that wreak a poison-packed punch. After consuming these invertebrates, the frog’s body sequesters these chemicals and secretes them out of their porous skin, hence making them toxic for consumption. If we’re lucky enough on our walks we get to see sloths and monkeys too.
The indigenous people of the archipelago are known as the “Naso” (“Teribe” or “Térraba”), people who have traditionally occupied the mountainous jungle regions of the western Bocas del Toro province, where they continue to identify with the lands along the river that became known in the Spanish speaking world as the “Teribe” or “Tjër Di in Naso”.
“Di” means water and “Tjër” is their mythical “Grandmother” who was endowed by God with the secrets of botanical medicine. Until as recently as three or four generations ago the “Naso” people led a remarkably autonomous existence. Dispersed among their clans and homesteads and geographically isolated from most of the world, the “Naso” developed and nurtured their cultural self-sufficiency through the idiom and the institution of the family. This tribe is also indigenous to southern Costa Rica. It is one of the few Native American indigenous groups or tribes that continue to have a monarchy.
Isla Bastimentos, where the Red Frog Island Resort and Marina is located, was discovered by Christopher Columbus when he landed his boat here in 1502 on his 4th voyage and called the island Bastimentos, which means “Provisions”. Historically the island was referred to as merely the “Old Bank”, but now the island of Bastimentos is one of the most popular destinations to stay and visit while in the Bocas del Toro archipelago, with its crystal clear waters, a constant temperature of 26-28 ºC (79-82 °F) and its types of waves, make it a top holiday and surfing destination.
The town of Bocas on Isla Colón was founded in 1826 and became an important town of Panama during the late 19th century and the early 20th century when the United Fruit Company, the large banana producer, known for its Chiquita Brands, was based here to manage the banana production. Banana exports remain an important income for the country.
That said, starting this article or indeed writing it has proven to be more difficult than Elaine imagined, but she’s not altogether sure why. Maybe it was because she became poignantly aware, after signing the contract for the sale of Paw Paw, that this could likely be the last article she writes on the Adventures of Paw Paw or, at least, the penultimate one. This was accompanied by thoughts of how a lifelong dream for Roy has been fulfilled, one that was 16 years in the making, which included our 6 years of planning, execution and part-time cruising prior to becoming full-time cruisers in 2014, resulting in an adventure that exceeded everything we dreamt of and exceeded both our expectations in every way, but it was drawing to a close. This reality caused reflection on how it all began with Roy telling Elaine more than 43 years ago, soon after they’d met, that he wanted to sail around the world. At the time Elaine made it abundantly clear that Roy had definitely found the wrong girl for that and it was never mentioned again, until a beautiful sunny day off the Dingle Peninsula in Ireland in 2008, as we sat amongst the wild flowers and donkeys, the latter curiously watching us as we ate our lunch atop a hill we’d hiked up. As we sat looking out over a stunning royal blue, calm Atlantic Ocean, Elaine turned to Roy and said: “Do you still want to go sailing around the world?”. “Yes”, said Roy, “but you made it quite clear years ago you weren’t interested!”. “Well,” said Elaine, “I know, but I think we’re going to be bored shitless in our retirement at the cabin, so I think we should rather go sailing”. Needless to say, after all those years, when we’d just spent a few years working towards our 5th Retirement Plan and had planned on moving to our cabin in the White Mountains of Arizona as soon as Keenan was settled at university, after a rocky start to his first year, Roy was surprised, but excited to say the least. “If we do, though, I need training first, I need to know that I know what I’m doing, I need to feel comfortable and knowledgeable on a yacht”, Elaine interjected and, with that, the plan was hatched.
In true planning fashion, for which Elaine was renowned during her working career, within weeks of returning home to Arizona, Elaine had completed a Master Plan, detailing every activity that needed to be done and the timeframes thereof, starting with our first sailing certification; our ASA101, sailing a little Jaguar 22 and thus the journey began. On reflection Elaine realised just how much time, effort and money had gone into achieving this sailing lifestyle from that first small step 16 years ago!
Joining Boat Clubs in San Diego and San Francisco allowed us to get the practice we needed and sail a variety of different yachts as we progressed through our training programme. Interim weekends were spent at our cabin revising and preparing for each written examination for each certification and by the end of 2013 we were wrapping up our Celestial Navigation certification, we’d travelled back and forth to numerous boat shows and had bought Paw Paw, we’d sold our home in the Valley of the Sun, which included all the furniture and furnishings as part of the sale, we’d sold our cabin in the White Mountains, we’d donated a heap of unwanted possessions to charity, we’d packed a small storage unit with the few sentimental possessions we wanted to keep, we’d shipped everything we wanted on Paw Paw to make her feel like home, Keenan had graduated from university with his double major, Elaine had officially retired, we’d sold the cars and life on the water beckoned. Roy, however, needed a few weeks at the start of 2014 to wrap up our business and the rest is history!
Now, going through the process of packing up our lives on Paw Paw to return to a landlubber life in a country we’ve never lived in, it’s hard to believe more than 10 years have passed since we moved onboard. We’ve seen the world, we’ve met so many wonderful people on our journey, we’ve experienced so many different cultures, customs, cuisines, religions and history. We’ve experienced the magical underwater world, with a boundless variety of sea-life and corals, we’ve experienced bioluminescence sparkling in Paw Paw’s wake as she moved through a dark starry night on passage, we’ve had whales, dolphins, turtles, manta rays and stingrays for company. We’ve even had a snake or two! We’ve seen places we never imagined we would visit. We’ve gone stealth as we traversed Pirate Alley in the Gulf of Aden. We’ve crossed the busiest shipping lanes in the world, we’ve transited both of the world’s major canals. We’ve walked on the world’s most stunning beaches, with crystal clear turquoise waters lapping around our ankles. We’ve hiked to the top of mountains to explore ancient castles. We’ve stood deadly still as a Komodo Dragon ran towards us. We’ve stood on the craters edge of an active volcano; the memories were boundless and came flooding back, overwhelming us at times, as we tried to concentrate on the task at hand; clearing-out, donating, discarding, packing or bagging and tagging items for the new owners, stripping all the bedding to be washed, dried and stowed, cleaning and neatly arranging everything as we progressed from locker to locker, cabin to cabin, cupboard to cupboard. At times the tears were tripping Elaine, but onward we went, the impeding dread of saying goodbye drawing ever closer.
Simultaneously we continued to receive news from Ireland on Elaine’s dad and waited in anticipation of an appointment at the Royal Hospital in Belfast to get input from the consultant on possible next steps and a revised prognosis for Elaine’s dad, given that he’d long surpassed their last prognosis of 3-4 weeks.
However, receiving the confirmation that both options open to him will result in his death, left us all reeling; amputations of both lower limbs, but Elaine’s dad was informed that he would not survive the procedure or accept that the gangrene will progress unabated and result in his death.
While a very difficult and heartbreaking day that left Elaine’s dad utterly devastated and soul destroyed at being told he won’t be recovering and going home, Elaine’s parents settled for the latter option, but the decision was also taken to transfer Elaine’s dad to a nursing home, the Slieve Dhu, in his “happy place”, the seaside town of Newcastle, nestled at the foothills of the Mourne Mountains, a few minutes walk from the home him and Elaine’s mom had shared since returning to Ireland. A brief chat to her dad revealed just how delighted he was to be moved, a small gesture given the circumstances.
Content and as pain-free as medically possible, he has continued to live out his life in a beautifully decorated room with a view of the gardens and a DVD Player connected to his TV to watch all his old cowboy movies. On one bright, sunny day he was taken out into the garden and has enjoyed visits from family and friends living in close proximity to the nursing home. He’s had days of complete clarity, making these visits very pleasant for Elaine’s mom and sister and, at times, they indicated it was like visiting him under “normal circumstances“ when he was his pleasant, funny, joking self. Sadly these moments didn’t last. Before long the state of confusion returned, but they were precious gifts regardless. All in all, it was the most we could all ask for at this stage.
As upsetting as the situation has been, we felt somehow better about it all, though, knowing he was much happier than he had been at Wood Lodge in Castlewellan. He was indirectly home and, with his tremendous fight for life and will to live, he gave us all the precious gift of time with him; Keenan got to see him again for the first time in 10 years, while, Brooke and his great-grandchildren got to meet him, Elaine’s brother got to spend time with him, we got to spend precious time with him, his youngest brother and his in-laws got to visit, his other grandchildren and great-grandchildren, who were able to make the journey, got to see him and his remaining time with Elaine’s mom and her sister in Ireland is helping them come to terms with it all. Prayers continued to be said, though, as time ticked by; 7 weeks in fact, before Elaine’s youngest sister could get to see him, a possibility that looked more precarious with each passing day as he’s pain medications keep him sedated and the gangrene progressed. That, however, was until Thursday, 12th September 2024, when he was caught by the nursing staff walking 6 steps from his chair to his bed, after the pressure alarm went off when he stood up from his chair, smiling once he’d reached the bed and telling Elaine’s mom: “I told you I’d walk again” and, with that, he climbed into bed and dosed off to sleep. Besides being truly in awe of this man and his unmatched fortitude, we all knew then that he’d intended to stick around until Elaine’s youngest sister arrived in Ireland.
Our time since we’ve been back in Bocas del Toro, after returning from Ireland, can be segregated into three phases; one, getting Paw Paw ready for the viewings we had pre-arranged, second, taking Paw Paw to Shelter Bay for the out-of-water survey and third, returning to Bocas del Toro and the endless waiting.
While we awaited a weather window to depart for Shelter Bay and with most jobs finished on Paw Paw, one particular morning we enjoyed a walk through the rainforest followed by breakfast at the Beach Club. Other days we enjoyed late afternoon walks, followed by a sundowner on the beach.
By Monday, 5th August 2024, we’d changed our departure date to an earlier slot, given that the less desirable weather was arriving later in the week. That decision resulted in a trip to Bocas town to collect our two new solar panels, get provisions to tide us over, install the new panels and prepare Paw Paw for departure.
On the early morning of Tuesday, 6th August 2024, we cast off the dock and set sail for Shelter Bay, the marina at the entrance to the Panama Canal and somewhere we never thought we’d ever be returning to when we first transited the canal in January 2016 with the World ARC. It was staggering to think, and still incredulous actually, that we’d since crossed three oceans and completed our circumnavigation.
From a weather perspective, it started off raining as expected, then cleared, although it remained overcast. It wasn’t long, though, before we were enjoying the magic carpet ride on the Caribbean countercurrent, something we knew would be creating a very slow passage on our return leg. Even though there was little wind, we still managed a SOG (Speed Over Ground) of 7 Kts. There was, however, a very odd large rolling swell, reminding us of our last visit to New Caledonia, where a similar swell occurred following an earthquake. Regardless, we were grateful that we hadn’t encountered any thunderstorms by this point, albeit that they were in the forecast.
As the night drew in, the wind veered giving us a better angle to sail, but thunderstorms could be seen in the distance and it didn’t take long before they were forming around us. Thankfully most moved passed us without incident, but one formed overhead during Roy’s watch, forcing a few manoeuvres to avoid the worst of it; Elaine slept through it all!
We’d made good timing, though, entering the breakwater of Cristobal Bay and reaching the anchorage outside the marina at around 0700. It had been a good sail, assisted by the current and wind and waves behind us, but it had also been a difficult 24 hours, primarily for Elaine, because she felt very nauseous the entire passage, exacerbated by the awful news we’d received the day before from the consultant regarding her dad’s prognosis, not to mention how tiring it was for her. It was a struggle, to say the least, and it’s not often Elaine doesn’t enjoy being out on the water sailing. Quite frankly she could have seen this trip far enough! It was all just terrible timing, hot on the heels of all the emotional upheaval with her dad. She was simply too upset to enjoy anything and just wanted the survey and the sale to be over and done with! Unfortunately the return trip was worse, horrendous in fact!
After catching up on some sleep in the anchorage, Paw Paw was secure in her berth by 1000 in Shelter Bay Marina, but not before the marina staff had first suggested the smallest berth they had vacant, when a perfectly good sized berth was available on the other side of the dock. The mind she boggles, although they did apologise later, explaining that they’d misunderstood Paw Paw’s dimensions and realised they’d made a mistake as we entered the marina; she is rather imposing at first sight! This was not the end of the saga, however. Deciding to enter the berth bow-to in order to have some privacy, a price tag of $128USD, which the chandlery tried to charge Roy for a $20USD plug, required to add our extension lead to get shore power, resulted in us simply turning Paw Paw around instead and entering the berth stern-to! There was no way in hell Roy was going to be ripped off like that and didn’t exactly endear himself to the owners of the chandlery when he told them that in no uncertain terms.
Once settled, Roy removed the helmstation weather guard and, armed with the new plastic we’d had delivered to Bocas del Toro, he set off in search of the sailmaker to have the plastic windows redone, something we last had done in Türkiye, but they had basically disintegrated for some unknown reason. Taking advantage of having the availability of a sailmaker, we had one of the hatch covers repaired too, something Elaine could have undertaken herself had she not given away her sewing machine in St Lucia, thinking Paw Paw was sold at that point.
Then, while Elaine visited the marina office to clear in, Roy strolled over to the yard to confirm arrangements for the haulout and to finalise arrangements for the Yanmar mechanics to service the engines, saildrives and generator, including the oil changes and fuel filter changes, cleaning the exhaust elbows on both engines, replacing the oil seals on the saildrives and replacing the propeller zincs.
Being back in Shelter Bay Marina brought back a flood of memories too, especially taking the shopping bus to Colón and crossing over the Panama Canal. It was here that Keenan, Brooke and William, who was just 9 months old at the time, joined us for our transit through the Panama Canal. It was rather apt that on 8th August 2024, we woke to the wonderful news that our little smarty pants had exceeded the school district and state mathematical proficiency tests and had, in fact, performed above mastery in Operations, Algebraic Thinking and Numbers in Base Ten, performed above mastery in Numbers and Operations -
Fractions, performed at or near mastery in Measurement, Data, and Geometry, showed a strong understanding of the expectations for the tested grade and was likely ready for mathematics in the next grade.
This was the start of various family achievements and celebrations to come over the following weeks, including Brooke completing the theoretical aspects of her studies with straight As in all her subjects and had started her externship, our granddaughter, Capri, passing her driving examination and acquiring her learner’s driving permit, Elaine’s eldest great-niece passing her GCSEs with flying colours, her great-nephew starting high school and her youngest great-niece starting pre-school. On the sporting front, her nephew had played his best round of golf ever, winning his competition as a tribute to his Granda, who had spent years coaching him from the tender age of 3 and, by no means least, we welcomed a new member to the family, Elaine’s youngest great-nephew, Luka, Elaine’s brother’s second grandson.
On Saturday, 10th August 2024, we were up early for the haulout and thankfully the surveyor was prompt and thorough. For some inexplicable reason, though, Elaine just couldn’t stop crying that entire morning; it was yet another bittersweet event on this adventure. We were glad the sale had reached this stage, the last hoop to jump through, other than to get Paw Paw safely back to Bocas del Toro for the closing, but it was going to be yet another difficult goodbye, having already had the awful experience of saying goodbye to Elaine’s dad just a few weeks earlier. As usual though, after not having a breath of air and tolerating sweltering heat for the preceding days following our arrival in Shelter Bay Marina, we woke to a strong crosswind as we manoeuvred Paw Paw into the haulout bay. Thankfully by 0830 she was on the hard, but remained in the sling; this was to be a quick haul and splash and by that afternoon we were back in our berth. All we needed now was to get the last of the jobs completed, collect our refurbished helmstation weather guard and set sail for Bocas del Toro. It was the latter that delayed our return, however, taking the sailmaker almost two weeks to complete the job and when he eventually did finish, he would only take payment in cash. Ordinarily that doesn’t present much of an issue, except in this case, we’d just been to town the day before, a 3 1/2 hour round trip, on the courtesy bus, a trip Roy had to repeat the following day to get the cash we needed; very frustrating!
Once we received the weather guard and perusal of the weather indicated we needed to leave sooner rather than later to avoid being stuck in Shelter Bay Marina for another week, a situation we both desperately wanted to avoid, given that this marina was not our favourite and indeed no comparison to the Red Frog Island Resort and Marina. This resulted in a hasty departure from Shelter Bay Marina on Monday, 12th August 2024, but not before we had to wait until almost 1100 before the mechanics returned to do a final check of the engines, after Roy went to track them down on two separate occasions, but, thankfully, everything was working as intended. The second delay was waiting on the marina office to prepare our final invoice. The latter was another exercise involving a mob of office workers trying to figure out how they could refund us against a shorter stay and withdraw our discount using their very convoluted sliding scale of charges depending on the length of a stay. Eventually, by noon, we were exiting the marina and by 1400 we were motor-sailing under sunny skies, with winds out of the northwest at 7 Kts and against the countercurrent at 2.3 Kts, the latter something we expected and knew would result in a crawl back to Bocas del Toro. We’d had a similar experience on our passage from Curacao to Bocas del Toro back in May this year. By 1620 we had a 3 Kt current against us, but hopeful that it would alleviate somewhat as we passed the exit curve of the large bay, Golfo Delosmosquitos.
Our first night at sea was under a rare “blue supermoon”. Despite being called a blue moon, the moon doesn't actually turn blue. In this instance it was, in fact, red in various parts of the world as smoke from the wildfires in North America hung in the atmosphere.
Since the lunar cycle is 29.5 days, this eventually gets out of sync with our Gregorian calendar, where you normally have one full moon a month. While in some parts of the world, blue moons are most commonly defined when there is an extra 13th full moon in the year, where the second full moon in a month becomes the blue moon, the traditional definition, however, is explained as the lunar cycle resulting in any season having four, not three, full moons; the third full moon is then given the status of a blue moon. As blue moons are not that common, it's thought that the phrase: "Once in a blue moon" comes from this phenomenon.
This full moon also happened to be a "supermoon", which occurs when the full moon coincides with the moon being at its closest point to earth in its orbit, the perigee, thus appearing brighter and larger in the night sky.
However, by 0300, with much of the sky overcast, we didn’t enjoy much guidance from the “blue supermoon” and, after the forecast had indicated light and variable winds in slight seas and definitely no mention of frontal weather for the duration of our passage, instead, we had wind speeds of 20-30 Kts on the nose in 2-3 metre seas and thunderstorms appearing in every direction we looked. At one point, on Elaine’s watch, we barely had a SOG of 1.5 Kts, calling for some drastic measures; turn to starboard, albeit out into the stronger part of the current, but at a much better wind angle to sail, a better angle to the waves and a tack that took us away from the thunderstorms that lined the coast. This worked, but required a lot of tacking, back and forth, not only to keep a half decent SOG, but to avoid the continuous bands of thunderstorms that kept popping up. By the time Roy came on watch again, the current had subsided a little, which helped our SOG again as we altered cause to get a better VMG (Velocity Made Good), but was negated by one of the worst lightning storms we’ve encountered, although thankfully not as bad as the storm we encountered in Boro Bora in 2016. Regardless, as the thunderstorm developed above us and surrounded us, we thought we were about to be blown to smithereens when three massive lightning bolts struck the water at a distance that was definitely too close for comfort, creating the loudest thunder clap we’ve ever heard and causing us both to nearly jump out of our skin, but forced a swift decision to do a 180 degree turn to let the storm pass over us as quickly as possible, praying there wouldn’t be any lightning strikes in our path as we did so. Then, after bobbing around for a while, to be completely sure the storm had moved off into the distance, leaving us with a safe distance to proceed, we continued on our way. At our wits end by this point, though, we were both extremely vigilant for the remainder of the passage, to the point we developed alternative plans to tuck into either Laguna de Chiroqui or sneak behind Cayos Zapatilla so as to avoid a repeat performance of the night we’d just had, if conditions deteriorated again.
Thankfully the gods decided to smile on us after that incident. Although it rained on and off all day, we didn’t encountered another storm for the rest of the passage, arriving at Punto Cauro, the northern point of the archipelago, to enter the marked channel between Isla Colón and the Panama mainland at around 0500, in lighter winds and flatter sea. As we picked up cell phone connectivity again, we also received the good news that the buyers had received the Survey Report and no issues were reported. To the contrary, words like “excellent” and “very good” were scattered throughout the report.
By 0730 we were safely back in our berth in the marina of the Red Frog Island Resort, hopeful that that would be our last passage. All we needed to do now was to “winterise” Paw Paw, settle into the serenity and peacefulness of life in the Bocas del Toro archipelago and await the closing of the sale, having paid the piper on a horrendous passage.
Our immediate tasks included the removal of all the emergency equipment from the lifelines, all the jacklines and the running rigging and ensuring everything was clean and dry before being tagged for the new owners and stowed, giving both engines a fresh water flush again, raising the boom and covering the stackpack with a tarpaulin to keep the mainsail dry, as well as topping up the diesel tanks with the remaining diesel in the jerry cans, washing and sterilising all the water jerry cans before stowing the lot and stowing all the unused fenders and docklines. Finally, it was time to complete the last yacht task after getting assistance from one of the dockhands to winch Roy up the mast; replace the anchor light!
Although we acknowledge it’s time to sell Paw Paw and we both want this sale to go through, given that we’ve been living in limbo since completing our circumnavigation in December last year and would like that to come to an end sooner rather than later, it’s still hard to move on from a lifestyle that we’ve loved so much, especially when we’ll be moving into a vacuum of complete uncertainty. This uncertainty is exacerbated by concerns we have about our decision on choosing Ireland as the country in which to live out our lives, given the challenges the country is currently facing, having no home to go to and concerns about what type of property we will actually end up with, moving back to a landlubber life that we’ve never experienced before without our careers and businesses to keep us occupied and wondering what on earth we’re actually going to do to keep ourselves productive. Concerns about what kind of healthcare Elaine will be exposed to, and indeed the availability and promptness thereof, considering the extremely long waiting list still prevalent three years after the COVID-19 pandemic, especially since private healthcare insurers are not willing to cover her until a 5 year qualifying period has elapsed, while having to pay monthly premiums for the duration of that time. Concerns about our overall happiness and wellbeing, when all this is added to the melting pot. The questions are endless, fuelling our disquiet of what this next chapter holds for us. It’s fair to say that this is the first time in our lives that we feel so directionless. So many years were consumed in preparing and readying ourselves for our vagabond lifestyle and it seems to be all over in a flash and we’re now somewhat unprepared for this next chapter, given that nothing seems tangible at the moment. It doesn’t help matters either, but since we set foot back in the western culture after setting sail from Türkiye we can’t help but notice there’s a prevailing worldview that seems to be more apathetic, nihilistic and hedonistic.
To help mitigate these feelings, not surprisingly, Elaine has put together another Master Plan, but due to the number of intangible aspects and circumstances out of our control, it still feels rather airy fairy, which isn’t really instilling one morsel of confidence. We draw solace, however, in the fact that these feelings are similar to the ones we experienced when we first set off on our sailing adventure and, indeed, whenever we undertook a passage, drawing on the motto of: “Prepare for the worst and expect the best!”
To this end, we’d undertaken a huge amount of preparation in getting Paw Paw ready to be sold, including all the work required to stage her for all the photographs we needed to advertise her and the video we put together. Collating a detailed specification of her inventory and then building a website to portray all this information, as well as advertise her on the various industry standard websites at a substantial cost. With numerous inquiries we had to ensure she was “putting her best foot forward“ when those inquiries turned to viewings and then investigating and collating all the legal aspects which had to be in situ for a sale.
Additionally, we have toured Ireland at every opportunity to undertake a reconnaissance of the various parts of the country to determine areas where we would consider living and then undertook a detailed analysis of those areas in terms of population density and determining the impact on available resources, including access to medical facilities particularly. Crime rates, access to various amenities, including supermarkets, shops, cafés and restaurants, proximity to outdoor activities, availability of local and national public transportation networks, macro weather trends, etc, were all analysed too, with the intention of trying to avoid a very expensive mistake.
Back in our world on the water, we settled into the slower pace of the archipelago and passed our time enjoying early morning walks through the rainforest or evening strolls followed by a sundowner on the beach, walks to the Beach Club for lunch and / or a swim in the pools, or indeed, to play Mexican train dominoes with friends, Noelene and Geoff, off Onyx, whom we first met in Bonaire. Some sundowner evenings involved a larger crowd when cruising friends of Onyx joined us. Taking trips to Bocas town on the complementary water taxi to do our weekly provisioning and eventually collecting our long overdue cruising permit helped stave off the monotony too. These trips inevitably started with a morning coffee first at the Cat in the Hat café, more often than not, with Nolene and Geoff, before we’d all dash off to run our errands after a good “chinwag”. As time passed we also discovered that trips to Bocas town were best made on a Tuesday when the fresh produce supply boats arrived with fruit and vegetables.
The opening and closing ceremonies of the Olympics and Paralympics helped pass the time too, thinking how ironic it was that “My Way”, Elaine’s dad’s favourite song and one he used to sing all the time, was the last song that brought the Olympics to a close.
The weather has been a mixed bag. Generally we’ve had sunny skies with temperatures no hotter than 28-30C, but the humidity is the killer most days. That’s resulted in us spending our days onboard in the coolness of our air-conditioned saloon. Fortunately the early mornings, evenings and nights are cooler, making exercise and sleep comfortable. However, there have also been some incredible storms, accompanied by wind, a deluge of torrential rain, thunder and lightning, each causing flash flooding in Bocas town and had us grabbing all our electronic devices and placing them in the oven to act as a faraday cage.
On Monday 26th August 2024, however, the day didn’t end quite the way we’d expected. Not feeling too great when she woke up, Elaine still opted to accompany Roy to Bocas town, but, by that evening she was in the local hospital. Fortunately after being treated for a viral gastro infection, which included a drip and a series of blood tests, urine tests, etc, she was discharged later that same night, armed with a prescription and strict instructions on the diet she was to adhere to for the rest of that week. While the doctor had indicated it would take at least 3-5 days to start feeling better, it was, in fact, almost a fortnight, but we subsequently discovered a number of cruisers had fallen victim to the same illness. Further discussions disclosed the source of the infection; a worker at the Mama Nachos café on the beach. Needless to say, we haven’t visited there since, but they’ve been closed throughout the month of September anyway, a normal occurrence apparently when staff take their holidays; probably a good thing, given the number of people we know who got sick. Regardless, Elaine wasn’t taking any more chances on eating out or drinking anything that didn’t come out of a sealed bottle or can when we did go out!
What surprised Elaine, however, was how quickly the illness worsened over the course of an afternoon and then how washed out she felt for weeks afterwards. This, of course, forced her to slow down whether she wanted to or not. Thankfully the incident didn’t resulted in a flare.
Once she felt better, we continued our activities of clearing out, cleaning and re-organising the remaining areas of Paw Paw. This included all the food storage areas onboard, the tools bunk and the cleaning products bunk, as well as getting all the remaining bedding and towels washed and dried for the new owners, with the exception of what we’re still using. Other activities have included polishing the galley countertops and the sole of the saloon, researching travel options, including the better route to take to Ireland, flights, hotels, baggage allowances, or indeed, extra baggage allowances and pricing, given the number of bags we’ll be carting with us to Ireland, as well as our exit / handover strategy.
To take a break from all the yacht centric efforts, besides catching up on all our outstanding videos and cataloguing photographs, Elaine also enjoyed a treatment at the resort spa, only a short walk from the entrance to the marina. Listening to the sounds of the rainforest while being pampered in a jungle hut was definitely a new and unique experience, one definitely to be repeated in the not too distant future. Roy has enjoyed his well deserved downtime perfecting his sourdough and crusty loaves, as well as throwing in the odd batch of cranberry muffins; delicious!
By Saturday, 7th September 2024, we’d learnt of a slight wobble with the sale of Paw Paw on the buyers side, but we were all still hopeful the situation could be rectified and the sale would close as planned.
Setting that hiccup aside, we decided to go on a dinghy excursion and explore other areas of the archipelago. Our reconnaissance took us to Crawl Cay on the far eastern side of Isla Bastimentos, as we weaved through mangroves and rainforest clad islands and coves as far as the eye could see. Closer to our destination we discovered a myriad of snorkelers in the water at two different locations, but, although we could clearly see the bottom covered in sea grass with patches of sand as we dinghied along, given how clear the water was, we didn’t see much in the way of sea-life, so we weren’t altogether sure what the tourists were actually looking at, but we were lucky enough to see the most beautiful bright yellow starfish as we manoeuvred through the mangroves. Since we haven’t seen locals out fishing in and around the archipelago either, we’re surmising the sea-life is depleted and any fresh fish available to buy in town is most likely coming from the Pacific Ocean side.
As we approached Crawl Cay, we spotted two separate sets of buildings on the water’s edge. One was teaming with tourists and pangas filled every inch of the docks. It seemed to have bar and restaurant facilities, but looked like a classic tourist trap. Deciding to dinghy to the slightly further buildings, we discovered a far nicer establishment, filled with locals enjoying their weekend. After stopping there for a drink, we returned to Paw Paw, a round trip that took most of the morning, but we were surprised to find the first establishment completely deserted by this time; there wasn’t a panga or tourist in sight, not even in the water snorkelling. This confirmed our initial suspicions, although it was rather bizarre to see, given the number of people that were there just an hour earlier. Nonetheless, we enjoyed our outing, passing numerous traditional dugouts en route, used by the indigenous Indians for their transportation around the archipelago. We also passed a variety of stunning homes on the waterfront or hidden high in the jungle, assumed to belong to the numerous American expatriates, whom, we learnt shortly after arriving in Bocas del Toro, have made this part of the world their home, given the relative ease at which a permanent residence permit can be obtained and the far cheaper medical services.
Although, over the course of our stay in Bocas del Toro, we’ve had copious amounts of time on our hands, because of the humidity making the ambient temperatures so much more intense and having received numerous recommendations from other cruisers in the marina, we enlisted the services of Fernando to clean and polish the exterior of Paw Paw, rather than tackle the task ourselves.
We can honestly say that, although we’ve spent an inordinate amount of our own time and energy over the years cleaning and polishing Paw Paw, Fernando took this activity to a whole new level. Taking a small section at a time, every inch, nook and cranny was scrubbed, washed, hand polished or machine polished, whichever ensured the best outcome and stainless was left glittering, leaving Paw Paw shining so brightly it hurt our eyes to inspect his workmanship under sunny skies. This was certainly money well spent! We’d never seen Paw Paw so clean!
Chatting to family and friends have been interspersed with whatever activities we had planned for a day, but being able to chat to Elaine’s dad on occasion and receiving surprise text or audio messages, or indeed phone calls from the grandchildren, never ceased to brighten our days!
By Monday, 16th September 2024, Elaine’s youngest sister had arrived in Ireland; prayers had been answered once again when she too got the opportunity to spend precious time with our dad. He recognised her voice immediately as she approached his room, lightening up his face as she entered. It was clear that he had “hung on” to see her after constantly stating over the months of his illness: “Someone’s missing! Who’s missing?” and being told it was Deborah, but that she was coming. He could now rest easy; he’d seen all of his love ones.
Although time seems to be crawling along at a snails pace as we await the closing, it was hard to believe that another Autumnal Equinox was upon us and it had been a year since we first advertised Paw Paw for sale.
The word “Equinox” derives from the Latin for "Equal to night". This phenomenon occurs twice a year when day and night are equal in length. At the precise moment of Equinox, the sun crosses the earth's equatorial plane, a projection of the terrestrial equator out into space. Equinox is a short plateau of apparent equal light and dark in our days of mid-Spring and mid-Autumn. At the Autumnal Equinox in September, the sun moves from the northern hemisphere to the southern hemisphere and for many in the northern hemisphere, the shortening evenings bring an early shiver, not so much because of a cooler temperature, but more from an anticipation of the darker, colder days of Winter.
Yet in Ireland, the Celtic festival of Autumnal Equinox calls folks away from such an energy sapping outlook to embrace this "pause between Autumn and Winter", allowing one to experience the short liminal space as the hours and minutes of darkness begin to outdo those of daylight and provide the precious opportunity to synchronise our lives with that brief spell of equanimity.
It may be surprising to know that this is the last festival in the Irish native year; the next being the festival of “Samhain”, which was regarded as a celebration of the Irish indigenous New Year, hence this last quarter Autumnal Equinox Festival, known as “Conacht Fómhair” in Gaelic, is extremely special. It is a chance to consciously stir intentions on how to live the final weeks of a declining year with alignment and balance. The Autumnal Equinox reminds us to recalibrate the “yin” and the “yang”, the light and the dark as Mother Nature comes to a point of equanimity. In ancient times, rituals were held at this time to cleanse out old energy and welcome in the new. This is seen as a time of struggle between light and darkness, life and death; something that is a clear reflection of where we find ourselves this Autumnal Equinox.
By Tuesday, 24th September 2024, we were also celebrating yet another wedding anniversary. It was hard to believe another year had passed since we celebrated our Ruby Anniversary with family in Ireland and, a year on, we were still not living back in Ireland as we’d planned. It was most certainly a case of “man proposed and God laughed!”
