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Day 1: We met up with the 17 people that we would be spending the next three days with on the beautiful cove of Spazurro before heading into another isolated beach area called La Miel where we would be staying the night. The owners of the boat - a chilled Kiwi dude named Adam and an eccentric French dude called Marco- are in the process of building a hostel in La Miel but with only the foundations up we would be spending our first night in tents. The beach was beautiful and free of any tourists with milatry check points along the way deterring people from venturing this far. It was unfortunately strewn with rubbish down the end not owned by the guys due to locals really not having an effective trash disposal system. With so much military around and technically being in "no mans land" (having stamped out of Columbia but not yet stamped into Panama) I really had an errie feeling that we were close to FARC territory! That night after a game of cherades around a beach bonfire and the first attempt of home-made coco-locos we retired to our tent, just as the first drops of rain began to fall.
Day 2: Having had little to no sleep due to a mixture of being too hot in the tent, sleeping on concrete to be sheltered from the storm, concerns of a FARC invasion and being woken by most of the group whose large tent flooded at 4am- we were not overlly excited to see the storm had set-in over our beach paradise. Wet, miserable and a little seassick we made it over particularlly rough waters to our next destination which was a small town where we were to do immigration. Upon arriving a stern military officer stood at the jetty waving his finger to show that we were not allowed to dock there and would instead have to anchor at sea. This meant that over stormy grey skies we had to wade through chest deep water to reach passport control, looking not unlike illegal immigrants.
Once we had handed our passports in and had a rather average lunch of boiled chicken soup (to which Marco made perfectly clear his opinions on) we sat back and waited. Firstly it took hours for the officials to sit down with all our passports and go about calling us individually for a stamp and secondly two of the guys had stamped out of Columbia too early (three days previous) and kind of illogically had to take the 2hr journey back to Columbia to get another stamp out. With the rough seas and having to wait for the others to return from Columbia it was decided that we would have to stay on this rather drab island for the night (which was not part of the origional itinerary) where we were appearing to make enemies with the locals by the minute. Firstly over the average chicken soup fiasco, secondly for walking around with open cans of beer (which was our only solace at that moment) and thirdly for the boys walking around with no tops which were drenched from the rain. Our trip through paradise was not getting off to a good start, although after a few beers allowing us to get to know everyone properly and with the rain subsiding, things were looking up as the evening rolled on.
Day 3: Our high spirits from the previous evening were instantly crushed when we woke to a clap of thunder and heavy rain pelting on our window. Dan was so upset he literally couldn't talk for an hour- his dream of catching a crayfish by hand were washing away in the flooded streets! By the time we had had breakfast and got our things together it had, to our surprise, cleared up! Our next problem, after sniffer dogs went through the boat and all our possessions, was that the army officials had ordered us to place our belongings on the boat from the jetty but for us to then wade through the water to get to the boat- WTF!!! None of us had any idea of the logic behind this and decided that they were doing this flat out for their amusement only. Chugging off into the distance, none of us looking back to that rather odd town, we were again faced with rough seas and a leg of the trip to make up that we had failed to do the previous day. It was unanimously decided to extend the trip by a day to get us back on track meaning we would be staying the night in a Kuna village as was on the origional itinerary. The Kuna's are an autonomous community of people that are accepted as Panamanians but after years of fighting, occupy many of the islands on the San Blas and hold on tight to tradition. This particular island was fascinating. It was very dry and covered by wicker, bamboo and palm houses. There were tonnes of kids running around waving and screaming ¨Hola¨ and the woman walked around in traditional outfits made of beads running up their calves and elbows. The rain had subsided a little and our spirits were rising when local fisherman came around to sell us crayfish for $4 a pound. Lana an English girl who had been working on the boat also said that we could get some wine for cheap on this island, so with a glass of red in one hand and a cray in the other, life was looking peachy!
Day 4: We finally reached what all of us had envisioned the trip to be... it was the night that we would be camping on a deserted island!! The clouds had given way to beautiful blue skies as we arrived to the island making for the perfect weather to channel Tom Hanks and get our Survivor hats on...well in comparative luxury! This meant setting up tents, exploring the island, snorkelling, swimming, making the boys climb the palm trees to get us coconuts to mix with rum and buying the local catch off the fisherman who came by in their canoes. Marco was cooking pasta that night and conveniently forgot the ham for it and so had to buy a bunch of Crayfish for a substitute...devestating!!! We also had these strange shell things, crab and little crays to cook over the fire. So with beers, Coco Locos and tummies full of fresh seafood we sat around and played games under the stars with no one else around!
Day 5: Our final night we were on another Kuna village after lunch on another of the tiny deserted islands of the San Blas. That night at the Kuna village we went out with a bang. Having had a great dinner of fish curry cooked by Lana and the other crew members in a local home, we properly celebrated! We gathered around beers, wine and music under the stars looking over the San Blas. Always the one to provide entertainment with my lack of coordination, I successfuly fell through a plank of wood that was set-up as a bridge to one of the outhouses that sits over the ocean. One leg dangling through the precarious bridge I got one hell of a fright thinking that I would be be swimming with the turds! It was overall a perfect trip with the weather really turning it on for us when it mattered and a great bunch of people. Even when the weather was average we all got through it together with a laugh. With heaps of reviews from the yachts coming back average with sea sickness, not enough food and being stuck on overcrowded boats for days, I would highly recommend the Darien Gapster. The guys put on a really good trip for us, despite some difficulties. We couldn't have asked for anything more!!
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