After our relaxing days and river adventures in Palomino, we returned to Cartagena for the last time to await the arrival of members of Heather’s family. Her uncle, aunt and cousin were joining us for the next leg of our journey – sailing from Cartagena to Panama via the San Blas Islands. Through online research I had found a small fleet of sailing vessels that made regular crossings between the two countries – certainly a more interesting way to travel than flying. Throw in three days exploring and snorkeling the beautiful San Blas and the decision was a no-brainer. Even Heather’s family from California couldn’t resist the allure of this adventure and had booked passage just three days after hearing of our plans. After a one-day delay and a change of boats due to mechanical issues the five of us boarded Catamaran 360, along with five strangers on the evening of December 13th. After we had settled into our respective cabins and gotten our briefing from the Colombian captain, he and the two-person crew headed ashore for a meal and a shower, telling us they’d return by midnight and we’d get under way. We spent some time getting to know our fellow passengers and soon headed to our bunks, excited at the prospect of waking up on the open sea (the first two days would be an open ocean crossing until we reached the San Blas). Surprisingly, we slept soundly that night to the gentle rocking of the boat. At first light I woke and peered out of the porthole in our cabin to see . . . the lights, buildings and other boats of Cartagena harbor. We were still anchored in our spot from the night before. As we all came up on deck we noticed one other thing – the captain and crew had not returned. And they had our full payments and passports, which he had asked for just before leaving for shore. ‘Nah, he couldn’t have . . .’ As we shook off the sleep and tried to dispel the uneasy feeling that was gnawing at the back of some of our minds, we heard the drone of an outboard motor crossing the harbor. The captain and crew, and Sancho the boat dog, approached. The captain boarded his boat and set about preparing for departure. Finally, one of the crew told us that the other crew member had dropped her sunglasses overboard during the dinghy ride to shore the previous night and was insistent on waiting for daylight in order to try to retrieve them using a mask and snorkel. ‘Hmmm. A lame excuse to push our schedule back by eight hours’ I thought, but they’re here and we’re leaving and our excitement (and relief) grew anew. We were given breakfast and then found spots on deck to watch the Cartagena skyline fade into the distance and were soon surrounded by nothing but open water. For the next forty-two hours only three or four container ships broke the seascape of Caribbean blue. As we bobbed on the swells several of our group began to feel the effects of seasickness, yet none would actually get any more than a little nauseous. However, none of the copious amounts of beer and wine brought on board would be touched during this time.

Early in the morning of day three we woke to the sight of land. Once again peering out of the small porthole of our cabin at first light, I spied the dream landscape: a white sand-fringed island, dotted with palm trees, surrounded by clear blue water and the dark outline of a coral reef. Soon we heard the soft patter of feet on deck followed by the splash of bodies eager to get into the water following two days of confinement. A group of us swam to shore, scrambled up onto the beach and crossed the small island to gaze at the surf rolling in on the exposed side. Following a swim back to the boat we devoured breakfast and then donned masks and snorkels for our first of three trips along the reef. We were pleasantly surprised by the profusion of hard and soft corals. Fish were certainly present, though not in the numbers one would expect to see on what appeared to be a fairly healthy reef. However, sighting a large spotted eagle ray, decorated crab and a nurse shark were enough to raise our excitement levels.

Day 5 had us moving just after breakfast. En route to our next island idyll, the captain anchored just offshore of what he called “immigration island”. This small island hosted the lone immigration post that served the 365 islands of the San Blas chain and would officially welcome us into Panama. We would also pay our $20 USD fee which gained us access to the Guna Yala indigenous area, which encompassed the San Blas as well as 230 miles of Panamanian coastline. Formalities taken care of, we once again set sail towards our final night’s anchorage. By mid-day we were comfortably nestled amongst several other sailboats protected by three islands and a fringing reef surrounding all. We didn’t hesitate to get in and start exploring. Once again, the reef didn’t disappoint.

Before our trip ended, we had the chance to visit a Guna Yala village on one of the islands. Our captain gave us insights into the matriarchal family life (“the men wear board shorts and fish all day”), including the peculiar fact that even if a family doesn’t have a female child, the youngest son will be treated as one, ensuring the mother’s bloodline continues. We also motored over to the shallow wreck of a cargo ship for one last snorkel before being off-loaded to a small motorboat which would take us to the mainland for the two hour roller coaster ride through jungle and mountain to Panama City, where we would split from family – they returning to California and Heather and I moving along the Pacific coast for some more Panamanian beach time.