Sailing to Colombia

From Panama City I traveled over to Colon on the Caribbean side of Panama then a few hours down the coast to the small port town of Miramar. It was a slow, hectic, and cramped minibus ride to Miramar, but I finally made there and right away hopped on a sailboat bound for Colombia. There are no roads that go to Colombia from Panama so boat or plane were the only sensible options. The area between Panama and Colombia, known as the Darian Gap, is a thick jungle with harsh natural elements as well as guerrilla fighters, drug smugglers, and a heavy military presence. Besides that, it would have been a long hike to the Colombian side. Sailing to Colombia along the Caribbean coast through the gorgeous San Blas islands was definitely the way to go.

I traveled with several other people on a 40-foot sailing yacht for 5 days through some of the most gorgeous islands I have ever seen. There was Josh was from Australia, Neil from England, Katjia from Switzerland, Elena from Colombia, captian Javier from Spain, and Javier's girlfriend, Esperanza, from Colombia. We sailed for 4-6 hours a day then anchored on the sheltered side of one of the nearly 400 San Blas Islands each afternoon. The seas were rough between islands but each spot that we anchored was a calm, idyllic setting worthy of its own postcard.




















I had hoped to be in Colombia to celebrate Christmas but it turned out that it would fall in the middle of our trip. I missed seeing my family and friends for Christmas but there wasn't much to do about so I enjoyed the warmest, most relaxed Christmas I've ever experienced. My boatmates and I had a great Christmas eve complete with festive lights, wine, and fresh seafood. It was a different, but terrific, way to celebrate Christmas. In the spirit of the season I even made a sand angel on the beach.













The people that live in the San Blas Islands and the adjacent strip of land along the Caribbean coast are the Kuna. They are indigenous group that has remarkably retained a great deal of their autonomy. On the third day of our trip we anchored of the shore of a heavily populated island and gave a wonderful glimpse into Kuna life. The island had a population of nearly 1500 people and it was packed from one end to the other. Kids were running around all over the island and they loved to have their photo taken. Thankfully most of them spoke Spanish in addition to their native language and it was easy to joke around with them. They were absolute hams. While I was taking photos of photogenic dug-out canoes and precarious outhouses set over the water, kids would jump in front of the camera, then swarm around to see their photo. They posed, wrestled to get the best angle, then giggled as they saw themselves played back. I had a raft of kids escorting me around the island as I walked through the narrow passage ways between thatched roof huts. Beyond the kids the people were also incredibly friendly. My boatmates and I hung out there the whole afternoon and into the evening, having a great time.

















































I went back the next day to see more of the island and the kids were following me around again. I met more great people as well. One guy I met had actually been to the states working in Utah. He invited me in to his home and showed me his plans to build a small hotel and restaurant. He sat back in his hammock as he told me about his plans and life on the island.
























Later in the day we were off to the next island and the seas were pretty rough. We all did pretty well but the swales were about 10 feet high so it wasn't the most relaxing experience rocking back and forth up top or in the kitchen below. Neil on the other hand loved it and wanted to see even larger swales.




The next island we anchored at was largest island we had seen yet and a small part of it was populated. We arrived later in the afternoon, then rowed to shore to check out the village. People were friendly but the feel was a bit more controlled. We were told that we needed to pay a small docking fee and talk to the chief before we could check out the rest of the village. We payed our dues and our visit then made our rounds.
















The next day we sailed along the beautiful coastline and crossed into Colombia waters. Close to the border we anchored in a small, but heavily militarized border village called Sapsurro. It was the first populated area after crossing the border and it was easier to anchor there. We were immediately approached by military who gave a routine revision of the boat and our passports. They arrived with significant firepower in a boat that then left them on our sailboat. To get back to shore Captain Javier actually rowed our machine gun toting friends back to shore in his dingy. Funny sight.









From Sapsurro we took a 10 minute boat ride to a larger town, Caburnaga. There we stayed for the night and took care of our immigration paperwork. We went out and had a good night on the town then we were off again on another boat the next morning.










This time our boat ride was for two hours down the coast to the city of Turbo. There were no roads connecting the northern coastal towns of Colombia to Turbo so boat was our only option. All of this part of the coast had a heavy military presence, but inland from the coast was the infamously dangerous Darian Gap.






Turbo was a bustling city with motorcycles and scooters everywhere. It had all the life of a port city with a friendly yet edgy atmosphere. Josh and I were heading to Medellin so we decided to take the night bus thinking that we could see some of Turbo during the day then sleep the 9 hour bus ride to Medellin. It all worked out, but there wasn't much sleep to be had. The way our driver was pacing and then tearing down the steep and windy roads It seemed like he was on the white stuff that Colombia is so famous for. Several people were puking around us and I stirred from my attempt to sleep to find my day bag sitting in vomit. Ah, the joys of travel! On top of that when we groggily arrived at our hostel early in the morning the owner told us that the only bus in Colombia that he would suggest not to taking was the one we were on. Colombia is much safer than its reputation would suggest, but it still has its problems. So much has been done in the last 5-10 years to curtail the violence, but the night but from Turbo to Medellin has apparently seen its fair share of incidents.
















Military bunker