Fun on a small island

John and I have always wanted to see what’s
round the next corner. We make a quick appraisal of one place and then
what to see the next. After all, there is just so much to see in the
world! It has always been a wonder to me how yachties can drop
anchor in a bay and then just stay there – for a few days, a week or
longer. Here in the San Blas islands it is beginning to happen to
us. Is it because it is such an enchanting place, or it is, perhaps that
we are relishing the essence of cruising? I feel as though I have taken a
long journey to a place called stop-a-while. Here, the more I slow down,
the more I discover … Yesterday I spent a lot of time being still.
(Anyone who knows me well would tell you that being still is quite out of character.)
I sat in the shade of the cockpit looking out on the changing hues of blue as
the sun took it path in and out of the billowing clouds. As the boat
gently pulled to its anchor, so it would swing, giving me a changing
vista. I could be a spectator of other boats arriving. I could just
be. We also went snorkelling. Luxuriating in the
warm water, we could just float in the current and watch the underwater world
pan out in front of us: fans and domes and fronds and rosettes of coral,
all intricate, all different colours. The weird and wonderful fish that
thrive in this oasis of the sea floor are a fascination that never ceases to
draw and which is difficult to leave. As the sun silhouetted the palms trees of the island
we sat enjoying a rum punch, watching the sky turn pink and gold. Another
half an hour and the full moon rose over the island on the other side of the
anchorage and for several hours spilled an eerie light on the clouds and
sprinkled the sea with silver. On a boat, basic things can take time and simple acts
can lead to unexpected events. For instance, a couple of days ago we were
beginning to feel withdrawal symptoms from the internet and we needed some
outboard fuel. (But before I go on, what for me was quite remarkable was being
on an island just 200 yards by 50 yards and being able to Skype people around
the world. An entrepreneur had made a tiny bar at the front of his hut and
managed to rig up solar-powered internet. Hey presto lots of yachties
arrive!) We headed the few miles to Wichubhuala – an island packed
with huts made of palm leaves and canes, with freshly swept sand paths in
between them. A man (who surprisingly spoke English) led us to two shops
to find a sim card and someone’s home to buy a phone card. That
left the fuel, which was brought to us in old gallon water containers.
Nobody seemed to mind us wandering around and in almost every hut there was
someone sewing a mola. Unexpectedly, we came across a Sunday school in
progress, but again everyone was very accepting of our presence. Today we had a lot of visitors to the boat and some
fun meeting some of the locals. The first person to call by was Venancio,
who called himself a Master Mola Maker. (I thought it was only the woman
who made them.) Now John was quite right when he said that we definitely
didn’t have any need for a mola. I, however, felt obliged to
contribute to the local economy. Knowing how good John is at negotiating
and haggling, I was bemused that we ended up not only paying the full asking
price for a mola, but that we gave Venancio a gift as well! The next
dug-out canoe to come alongside had a family wanting some water. We gave
a pint of milk to the women in the following one, and later we were handed a
mobile phone in the hope that we could charge it. Most of the islands are of such a size that it takes
about five minutes to circumnavigate by ambling along the shoreline. Some
are inhabited with just a few huts, others are empty. Had we not stopped a while in this idyllic setting,
but rushed to see what was round the next corner, we may well have missed a
treasure. . |