Just recently we hit the 2 years or 730 days since we’ve been living aboard our tiny sailboat. I don’t remember the exact date we moved in.
This does not take in account the eight months we spent living and traveling on a primitive Tranquility before we settled in Coastal Georgia, where we moved back on land. That still belonged to a transformative process into full time cruisers.
It was the beginning of April 2016, when we left the apartment in Brunswick, GA where we lived for almost two years with Susan, our roommate and owner of the famous Tipsy McSways, and boarded a barely complete (will she ever be?) Tranquility at the Frederica Yacht Club.
Our Columbia 29 had been tied to the same dock for two years, patiently awaiting the end of all the modifications and tortures she received.
We moved from the comforts of a fully equipped house and the companionship of Susan and the band of house animals (in alphabetical order Beta, Betty White, Fluffy Butt, and Roxy) to the pokey interior of a sailboat and the constant presence of each other. Living aboard a second time was tough, as if those 2 years on land made us forget everything we knew about it.
The enthusiasm for something we waited for such a long time was somehow mitigated by the shock of the transition.
During the two years spent in the Frederica River, Tranquility almost became part of the marsh ecosystem, growing a thick and impervious beard around her underwater surface, harboring a very diverse collection of marine life. She also suffered the transition from long quiet to sudden movement.
We took the boat out of the water in St. Marys,GA to address this extraordinary growth and to complete many other projects that I left behind for lack of time. It was there, after going back into the water, that we officially re-started cruising and living aboard, embarking on a very slow voyage that still endures to date.
We celebrated with a Battlestar Galactica marathon while we were slowly adapting to our new house and lifestyle.
This 2 year anniversary will coincide with another haul out. We are taking arrangements for new bottom paint and a new topside coat for Tranquility, here on the Atlantic coast of Panama.
After two years of almost no boat work (there is no such a thing), we will tackle a couple of big projects that had been slowly taking form on the drawing board.
During the last longer passage from Bahamas to Panama we took note of a couple features to improve comfort during long offshore passages, both for living inside and in the cockpit. She will also get ready for less pleasant weather. You never know.
It is hard to believe how well we adapted to our scarce 200 sq feet of living space. We do enjoy very much when we have the opportunity of staying in hotel rooms or friends and family houses, with real bed, showers and bath tubs, broadband WiFi, huge kitchens with refrigerators and comfy sofas.
For some strange reasons, after a while immersed in such luxury we end up missing our tiny boat.
I have one problem living aboard a small boat: not enough walking.
I walk sporadically. I mainly sit, swim or row. I miss walking quite a lot, and once in a while I go for a long hike, out of the blue, totally unprepared or trained. It is usually Kate who plans and organizes such trips as she possesses a genuine wanderlust and the right planning experience.
We heard about the “camino Guna” from local friends in the Robeson islands, a very traditional area in the Comarca Guna Yala. The trail across the old growth tropical rainforest was used by the Gunas to reach a road in Mamoní Valley, precisely in San Jose de Madroño-Chepo District. From there cars would take them to the rest of the country.
Today Gunas use a different path to travel to Panama. Cars drive through a paved road and easily deliver people and goods to the Cartí ports. From there it’s easy to step on a boat and go anywhere in Guna Yala, and so the Cangandí-Mamoní trail is rarely used.
Kate needed to travel to Panama and from there to the US to visit the family. Discovering about the trail made us dream about going from Guna Yala to Panama on foot, instead of the classic way through the Cartì road.
Kate and I usually share this interest in making complicated choices.
Approaches to the Mandinga area
We sat aboard Tranquility for quite a while in the quiet anchorage of Ailitupu, in order to figure out the logistic of the trekking, and we took a day trip to the village of Cangandí with our friend Justino, to learn about the area.
Cangandí has a very unfortunate recent history. First a big flood destroyed most of the village so they had to relocate much higher on the hill. Then, last January, a fire destroyed many buildings.
Gunas from other villages helped collecting clothes, hammocks, kitchen utensils and anything they could to help the families who lost their house in the fire. Kate and I contributed with few clothes and spare ropes, that were particularly sought after to hang hammocks.
Kate got very interested in the Mandinga River watershed while she researched the history of US nationals trying to tamper with the local indigenous community, and she dug up quite an impressive amount of information. All of that was on maps and websites but we lacked the real world knowledge to figure out the logistics.
There was an unsuccessful attempt by the Standard Fruit company (now the giant Dole) to introduce modern agriculture in the area. The americans built a dock, a waterway, an airstrip and finally a road. They settled in a village at the end of the airstrip where, according to Justino, Gunas and american kids where attending the same school.
Today all that development is in ruins, ocean and forest claimed their space back, but the failing attempt left behind the Rio Nicuesa canal and the Molilla road, that the Gunas still use and keep open.
Preparing for the trip
Our reconnaissance did not unveil any easy approach . There are many pieces to put together to move from our boat anchored in Ailitupu, to the beginning of the trail.
First there is the boat ride that takes you to the Molilla road. Costs vary depending on the size of the lancha and your ability to penetrate Guna economical logics. But for two people only it’s fairly expensive. From Molilla, it’s about one and a half hours walk to to get to the the beginning of the trail in Cangandí.
We considered anchoring Tranquility just outside Rio Nicuesa, by the ruins of the old docks built by Standard Fruit. The anchorage is calm, protected and isolated and would save us 30$of the boat trip from Ailitupu, as we would dinghy in to Molilla Road. However neither of us liked the idea of leaving our boat (and Beta) anchored there for a minimum of three days while we were walking the camino Guna.
Finally an opportunity came knocking at our boat, when a fellow italian cruiser asked if we wanted to join a group to visit Mandi Yala, a picturesque village of about 700 Gunas on the hills that surround Rio Mandinga. We told Simonetta that we were happy to share the first part of the trip with them and that we would find a way to head off for the camino Guna.
Day 1: approach to the camino Ailitupu-Mandi Yala-Cangandí
Kate packed an ultra light travel backpack for her family visit and we joined the group of 13 people on a lancha to Molilla, the arrival point of Rio Nicuesa where the road to Cangandí starts. We brought food, hammocks, dry clothes, cameras, first aid kit. I finally realized the dream of owning a machete, which I bought in the Cangandì general store.
In Molilla, Simonetta had arranged a car that would take part of the group and their supplies to Cangandí, to spare a little bit of the walk. We joined the people on the car and at 9 am we arrived to the village. There we learned that a party of nine Gunas had just left for San Jose, to go meet a group of tourists.
We started to ask around for a guide that would lead us across the jungle and the mountains. The first Guna who approached us asked for 100$ to take us there and back, leaving right away. Even though we were eager to start the journey, it was a little over our budget, especially because there were so many other unknown costs ahead of us, so we declined the offer. We still didn’t know how much we would have to pay for sleeping, for a meal, for the car in Mamoní, for my return trip to the boat.
Justino, who was there to lead the group told us that we could find somebody for less and shortly after he introduced us to Juan Pablo, the porter who was helping the other visitors move their bags to Mandi Yala. He could do it for 50$, but we could only leave the next day.
When we realized that leaving that same day was not an option anymore, we took the opportunity to visit Mandi Yala with the rest of the group. They had planned a two nights stay in the village on Rio Mandinga, for a full immersion into the community. We walked for almost two ours to get there, at a very leasurely pace, getting to know the rest of the people who were coming from different countries, Italy, Venezuela, Spain.
Mandi Yala turned out to be very beautiful. In particular, I enjoyed observing the carpentry knowledge of the Gunas, the way they build their houses. I had the impression that there this knowledge is far superior to other places I visited. The majority of the houses are built only with fast growing renewable plants that can be gathered in the vicinity, with great skill and limited tools.
We felt very welcomed in Mandi Yala. The population there meet very few foreigners and showed a lot of curiousity for us. At a certain moment, Kate was surrounded by Gunas women and kids looking at our pictures on the phone while we were communicating in our tentative Guna.
We walked back to Cangandí by ourselves and the Saila (Gunas chief) placed us in a house that we shared with the village teachers. We set our hammocks and went to the river with the last light of the day still on us.
The life of Guna communities depend on rivers. All day long people go to the river, but it is especially early in the morning and at the end of the day that the river becomes the center of the life in the village. There they bathe, do laundry and gather water that they carry on their shoulders hanged to thick poles, uphill to their houses.
After a refreshing bath we headed back to our place. We finished up our yuca, barley and lentil meal and took position on our hammocks, listening to the voices of the village, a kid with a Cradle of Filth t-shirt listening to Death Metal and the news coming from our neighbor’s TV. It didn’t take long for me to be fully asleep.
Day 2: Cangandí to Campamento Tule Yala: 7.82 miles 8h37min
Next day at six thirty we were following Juan Pablo, who was walking with an empty backpack and his hunting rifle. We began crossing an area of ecological succession in the forest, which corresponded to species of plant re-colonizing Gunas farms no longer in use. Check out what ecological succession is on wikipedia.
Thanks to Kate I always learn very cool scientific terms that correspond to very real For example I fell in love with the term impervious surface, which describes all the surfaces a ing that obstruct water absorption by the ground (picture asphalt parking lots).
In the forest I recognize an area of succession by how I feel in it. The first impression of an area of species succession, is that it is hot. The canopy is not high enough yet to provide shade, and the thick growth of the opportunist and pioneer species stops any breeze. Biodiversity is minimum. On the contrary, in the old growth forest the air is cooler, the smells more rich and profound and the variety of species is incredible.
Juan Pablo walked very fast, balancing his hunting rifle on his shoulder. I walked with Gunas before and noticed that they don’t know fatigue, they barely drink or eat anything and they can carry heavy loads on their shoulders.
Kate and I were chatting, stopping for pictures, commented of every single encounter along the trail. Juan Pablo was not very talkative, and waited for us to catch up mainly at confusing forks in the road, or at the river’s banks. For the great part of the time we were walking alone.
At first we were not happy with this style, we were expecting more vicinity from him, more information and talks. We were also feeling bad because it looked like he was annoyed with us and our slow pace.
Soon I started to understand and appreciate his silent lead, as it became evident that he was trying to push us to keep moving. The trip was taking a lot longer than expected and he was focused on doing his job which was to deliver us to destination before nightfall.
Internally we were fighting. We wished we could take it easier, take a plunge in the beautiful swimming holes all along the river, stop to explore a certain habitat, take a closer look to the mushrooms and moss growing everywhere. Sometimes we just wanted to take a big break and lie down, but San Jose wasn’t getting any closer and we had to keep moving.
The trekking was breathtaking and brutal at the same time.It’s hard to imagine people going back and forth on the arduous trail, carrying goods on their shoulders. According to Juan Pablo, there used to be isolated families living on the trail, plantations, and an active checkpoint close to the frontier between the Comarca and Panama.
In his stories Juan Pablo referred to a past that is no longer here, and I realized that he came with us to earn some money, but also because he truly enjoys this walk, which he used to do much more often.
The hardest part was wading the river, and walking by its banks. We crossed the Cangandí river at least ten times, water thigh deep, with our rubber boots filling with water and becoming heavier. The slippery stones in the river bed provided with unsure footing. After each crossing we had to empty our boots of water and then keep moving.
I preferred the forest trail which was for the most part on solid ground, sometimes muddy, with fallen trees to get over, around or underneath. Surprisingly very few insects and mosquitos bothered us, and animals started to show their presence.
Kate had a close encounter with a boar, that crossed the trail few feet in front of her. We also spotted a troop of white-headed capuchins up high in the canopy, different species of wild turkeys, frogs and spiders. Wildlife was very aware of our presence in their home, and kept a safety distance.
The night camp
We finally arrived at Tule Yala at 3pm, eight and a half hours after our departure. San Jose was at least two hours further, behind the highest climb of the entire trip, and Juan Pablo thought it was a bit of a stretch trying to go across that same day, especially because we were exhausted.
There we met a group of german tourists, accompanied by two connationals and aided by nine Gunas porters, the party that had left the day before. They were going in the opposite direction, from Mamonì to Cangandì, and they were just setting camp in Tule Yala, getting the kitchen ready and deploying their tents under the roofs of the building that use to see a permanent Guna settlement in charge of checking the border with Panama.
Juan Pablo connected with his paisanos, while Kate and I asked the german guides any piece of information that could help us getting Kate on a car to Panama.
I was still worried if Kate would be able get a lift to Las Margaritas, if I would find food for my trip back to the boat. Kate spirits where particularly high and showed no worries. She very much enjoyed the location and she was confident that all would resolve for the best.
With a lot of daylight left we went to take a bath in the nearby stream and prepared our hammocks for the night. Talking with the tourists we learned that they were on 4 days journey to San Blas, then they would hop on a boat to Colombia, where they would do another trekking.
Rainald, the tour guide shared his local knowledge with us, and also very kindly offered us some of the food they were cooking for the group, a hot dinner of soup, mash potatoes, salad and steak. Similarly the paisanos shared food with Juan Pablo.
After dinner we settled in our hammocks and exchanged few more words with Rainald. I asked him some more questions about his job and his company, Yala Tours ( yalatourspanama.com ), which is very active all over Panama. I was very impressed in looking at the organization of the trekking. He created a good business, and he seemed to enjoy his job very much.
Day 3: Tule Yala-Mamoní-Cangandí-Ailitupu: 19.93miles – 11h
By 6 am in the morning we were packed and ready to start the journey to the Mamoní valley. There light had just started to shine on the trail, the air was still chilly and to rain was coming down in little showers.
It didn’t really matter. The steep climb made us sweat profusely and even before reaching the top we were completely soaked. Our cardiovascular system was struggling to push us uphill and Juan Pablo offered to carry the heavier pack and that gave us an increase in speed.
We finally reached the 1288ft of the last hill, the highest point of the trail, which marks the border between Guna Yala and Panama and it is also the line of the Continental Divide of the Americas. Water falling south from that line would flow to the Pacific, north and it would end in the Atlantic.
Once across the environment changed drastically. The forest left space to old pastures for cows and horses, few ranches. Occasionally you could see reforestation efforts, lead by group of foreign investors that are trying to build conservation initiatives in the area.
We headed for the road and the first visible ranch, coasting fences, meeting cows and passing a dead horse surrounded by vultures busy with the cleanup. San Jose was not even visible, but we would try stop at one of the ranches to ask for a car and for some food.
The ranch of señor Aurelio was one of the first buildings in the valley, and we were welcomed by him and his wife to sit under the porch.
We asked if they knew of any car leaving for the city and they told us that a group with the staff of Mamonì Experience would come soon. I also bought some food from her tiny store.
Soon a 4×4 pick up truck appeared on the road. I ran to meet them and after a quick exchange they kindly accepted to take Kate to Panama City.
It was such a relief to know that at 7:40 am she was already heading for the city. I kissed her goodbye and gave her appointment in Costa Arriba, where I would sail alone with Beta.
I walked back to the ranch chatting with Aurelio’s wife, drank her delicious coffee, looked Juan Pablo in the eyes and said a ver (let’s see).We could still make it in time for me to join Simonetta’s group if I could handle the Guna pace.
I was feeling great, my legs seemed to respond to my commands, with no sign of fatigue or pain. The challenge of being back before a certain time gave me extra motivation, and so we went.
I was staring at Juan Pablo’s ankles like they were a lure, the same way greyhounds chase the artificial hare on the race track. We climbed again the hill and in a little less than one hour we were back at the Campamento, where the group was still packing up and getting ready to move.
We drank a little more coffee with a ton of sugar from the paisanos, and at about 9 am we resumed our trip, charging ahead, crossing rivers, climbing hills, and squeezing into the thick forest.
This time I was less concerned about my surroundings, as my mind was focused on reaching the village before 3pm, to be able to catch the group on their way back to Ailitupu. I was just looking ten steps ahead of me, focusing on staying glued to Juan Pablo.
Nothing else really mattered. I could see the presence of the forest around me, its ever changing perfumeme, the scary sounds of life in the jungle.
Staying closer to Juan Pablo gave me a better opportunity to talk and learn about his life. He generously shared with me his knowledge of plants and animals, and he asked me questions about Italy and our boat. Every little break was an opportunity for a chat, and to check my watch.
At a certain moment Juan Pablo took my heavier backpack before the last stretch. According to his mental calculations we were on time, and he didn’t want to mess it up at the very end. With less weight on my shoulder I felt renewed and could walk even faster, so the last two hours went by swiftly .
At 2:20pm I walked by the main store of Cangandì where I located Simonetta and the others, and by 5pm aboard Tranquility, wrestling to put the dinghy in the water and go pick up Beta.
The chief of the village and others I met before leaving asked how it was, referring to Juan Pablo for better explanations in Guna. They seemed genuinely impressed with what we did.
I celebrate with a cold beer. I was still full of endorphins for the physical activity and the beauty of what we just accomplished. I am again convinced that walking is the best form of transportation, even more than sailing.