I recently published an article for the web-based magazine Small Boats Monthly.
The magazine is about small boats and publishes some adventure narrative. I pitched the article I wrote about a traditional ulu race Kate and I sponsored and witnessed to editor Chris Cunningham and he was very interested not only in my writing, but also in the Guna Yala region its people, and of course in the ulus, the sailing dugout canoes they accompany Gunas in their everyday life.
He wanted me to expand the article including more info about Gunas, their traditions, and helping with very good editorial inputs that really improved the article.
I wrote about ulus before on this blog, but I am glad Small Boats Only would give to these wonderful boats a wider audience.
You can read the full article and the photos at this link. Enjoy.
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.
Freelance working can be tricky. It comes suddenly after periods of calm, and it forces to reshuffle my schedule to fit jobs and other life commitments. The month of February looked already busy enough for us when Maria contacted me asking if I was available to help her with two charters aboard Joana. We had to make a total revolution to our plans, but the opportunity was too good to let it pass.
I’ve been introduced to Maria and Cathy, owners of Joana, by Kirk, a friend of a friend who I briefly met in Georgia and then finally again in Puerto Lindo. At the bar of Linton Bay Marina, getting to know each other, they told me that it was good that I charter experience as they could use some help on their ship Joana, a beautiful 72ft gaff rigged steel yawl. Of course, that help could be needed in a non specified time in the future, as life afloat is all but easy to plan.
I had admired the lines of this ship from afar when she dropped the hook in Linton Bay anchorage, particularly liking the low freeboard of the steel hull, the classic rigging and the general rugged appearance. In a world of mass produced, performance-oriented plastic boxes, Joana stands out like a rare gem. If you don’t trust my words, check out some pictures of Joana on their website.
The job offer had to be fit into an ambitious plan, with the imminent Kate’s parents visit to Panama, our plan to haul out Tranquility on the hard for bottom paint and yard work, and an again postponed visit to Italy. I remember having meeting after meeting with Kate trying to fit everything in the short month of February, not without stress. What we would do with our boat and our cat?
Eventually we found a solution: I would spend few days in Panama City with Bernie Sr. and Sue and Kate after we made arrangements with our Guna friends and local authorities in Islas Robeson, to leave Tranquillity safely anchored and Beta earning his board on shore, helping make a Guna house pest free. Then, I would travel back to Guna Yala and start working on Joana.
I joined Maria aboard her ship in Esnasdup, a quiet anchorage in the vicinity of Green Island. In Guna Yala there are more than 300 islands and little cays, all with both local and Spanish names, and Attilio, the lancha driver, had a little hesitation when I told him where I needed to be dropped off. Lanchas are the taxi-boats that move people, goods and everything else from the arrival point of the only road in the ports of Cartì to the numerous islands. The reshuffling of our plans involved me taking many lanchas, from and to the port.
I could only arrive to Joana one day before the beginning of the charter so I needed a crash course: anchoring, sailing maneuvers, food and other supply stowage. Maria is very patient, and gave me a good tour and tutorial of my duties in the fore deck area, where my main actions would take place. As we left for our sailing training, she showed me how to set the gaff rigged mainsail, the cutter (that’s what she calls what I call the staysail) and the Jib.
Setting Joana under full canvas requires quite some sweat and fine technique compare to what I am used on Tranquility. By owners’ choice the running rigging has no mechanical help other than the purchase system of hand carved blocks. Without winches, everything has to happen in a specific moment, with a thoughtful planning ahead and sometimes with Maria leaving the helm for few moments to give a hand forward.
It all looks like a little ballet, as one of Joana’s guest once noticed, a sequence that I practiced everyday as we moved from one anchorage to the other. By the end of the trip I felt very at ease on the job, also learning few tricks of the trade that could be definitely used elsewhere.
Joana’s route for these two trips was in the area between Salardup and Rio Diablo. This chain of more than 30 islands stretches a mere 15 nautical miles but offer countless opportunities for snorkeling, laying on the beaches of uninhabited cays and fishing, all in the protection of coral reefs that create flat and crystal clear waters, a very relaxing and comfortable place to be even when the trade winds pick up to 30 knots as it happens for few days at the time during the dry season.
In the galley there was another kind of ballet happening. There was always activity down below, even under way, to make sure our guests received everything they need in therm of meals, snacks and drinks . During the charters we were blessed with good fishing, and we could put on the table a selection of seafood and fish, from lobsters and crabs, to red snappers, Spanish mackerels and conch. Maria and I served the catch of the day in many different ways, including sashimi, sushi, ceviche, grilled baked and steamed dishes.
In Green Island I had a particularly prolific fishing night, with four good sized red snappers brought on board. Also, we had the opportunity to spot the infamous two meter long crocodile that lives in the area, and that twice came alongside Joana before being scared away by our enthusiasms/excitement. Fishing is good where crocodiles live!
It is always a pleasure to see happiness on the guests’ face while they enjoy sailing in this environment. We surely do our best to help realize their goals and accommodate their needs, but the Guna Yala islands do us the biggest favor, as they naturally make one feel comfortable and surrounded by pleasurable experiences. Maybe it’s not a case that I keep coming back here, to absorb the good energy that are so plentiful in this corner of the World.
February is not ended yet and a new chapter awaits me. Work commitments will keep Kate here in Panama this time, while I will solo travel to Italy for a brief visit to family and friends. As I stated before, life on a boat is not as easy as one may think, compromise and complicated life arrangements are mandatory.
The last item on the list will be the yard period, that we hope to start around mid March. Tranquility needs some attention after being basically trouble free for a long time. Fatigue is unsparing at sea.
Impossible at the moment to make any further plans.
I took three hours of my free time to fulfill a desire I had since the very first moment I arrived in Guna Yala. Everyday, you can see the shapes of Gunas on their sailing ulu, setting sail at the first light in the morning and heading for the fishing destinations or to the mainland.
This image always inspired me a deep sense of freedom and satisfaction and an intense desire to sail one.
Cayuco is the name the Spanish explorers gave to the dugout canoes built by indigenous people of the Antilles and other American regions. It describes a monohull with flat bottom and no keel or daggerboard, propelled and steered by a wide paddle. In Guna language it is called “Ulu”, or “urmor”, ù but they often use the name cayuco, at least with non-Gunas like me.
Cayucos are built with the dugout technique: this means that the hull is shaped by carving a log of suitable dimensions, usually mahogany which grows in the well preserved forest of the Comarca (indigenous territory) . Similar to other canoe designs the bow and stern are pointy, and have a streamlined skeg, that help them tracking in the water.
Looking at the bilge you notice the rough marks left by the tools during the chipping out. It is remarkable how Guna shipwrights can obtain such a regular shape with this method and the amount of labor behind every single piece must be enormous.
In Guna Yala cars are useless and the transportation happens on water. Cayucos are everywhere, and sometimes it is hard to find docking to the main piers. They come in very different size and dimensions, every family has at least a small paddle one, but sailing cayucos are longer and more expensive. The modernity brought outboard engines and fiberglass boats named “pangas” or the more common spanish name “lancha”.
The cayuco Dino and I sailed is owned by one of his cousin. The man told me that it was built from a tree donated by his father. When his father died he had the permission to cut the tree and have it carved and painted.
On the sailing ulu the rig is a spritsail (similar to an Optimist): the mainsail is attached with a loose foot to a boom, and the “sprit” is a spar that support the leech. The main is sheeted to a hole through the gunwale and tied with a simple knot. The boat comes also with a headsail which is set flying from the bow to the mast head. The simplicity of the construction is a demonstration of how little techonology is really needed to sail. Even if a lot can be done to improve the performance of this system, it is enough for the essential living of the Kunas, and I am still amazed about how good it is the windward performance without a centerboard. You just need to be equipped with a lot of patience, a skill which Kunas culture is rich of.
The rudder is substituted by a wide paddle, called cammi. In fact, the helmsman can be very much called a paddler as you need to paddle the boat into the wind in order to tack. It took me a while to understand how to steer the sailing ulu with a wooden paddle and the fuzzy wind of the afternoon was not helping, but it was nothing too complicated. There is definitely a more close feeling of how the rudder operates and the forces that act on it using this technique rather than turning the wheel of a performance cruiser.
As often happens during fishing trips, especially the ones you improvise, we didn’t catch any fish. Nonetheless I had an interesting day on a sailing ulu, I learned about traditional crafts and fulfilled a little dream of mine. I hope I am going to do it again, next time I hope with a bigger sail, just to have more speed sensation and capsizing danger.