We’ve been traveling from Costa Rica through North Western Panama.  This part of the coast is very remote.  We have had no cell signal for 6 days.  That means no internet…Are we starting to shake?  It’s very hot and sticky but at least the days are overcast as Panama heads into rainy season.  Each little bay, surrounded by dense jungle that overhangs the beaches, has squads of Parrots flying overhead in pairs squawking to each other noisily.  The bays often have a small boat with a couple of guys fishing who have braved the surf in their small boats.  In Mexico the fisherman’s Pangas had lots of freeboard and big Yamaha engines with at least 75 horsepower. Here the boats are Pirogues.. narrower than Pangas, sturdily built from fiberglass or wood plank construction, but a 20 horsepower is a big motor.  Sometimes you see these small boats motoring between the bays with five or six people on board.

Hills of Naranjo

After a pleasant day motor sailing we arrive at Ensenada Naranjo with about 150 miles remaining to reach our season’s resting place at the Vista Mar marina. As we pull into the protected bay, the Pacific swell subsides and we anchor in 30 feet of water. On a mooring ball a small pirogue is at rest, brightly painted in red.  We set up the bridle and back down to ensure that the anchor is set.  As we look out over the hills, we are reminded of Northern California with the coastal hills green turning gold as the hills wait for the drenching to come during Panama’s famous rainy season, just 30 degrees warmer than California with twice the humidity. It’s happy hour, and although we have stopped drinking alcohol for now, we lie down on the trampoline with a cool drink of fruit juice and soda water.  We watch as 20 or so white brahma cattle graze the steep hills.

Grazing Brahmas

Suddenly a single shot rings out. Yesterday, at Bahia Honda, we were boarded by a man in a small blue pirogue carrying an AR 15 and a pistol. He was very friendly, and wearing a national police uniform for Panama, although it looked like he might have stolen the shirt. He welcomed us to the anchorage, assuring us that we were safe, but guns do make us nervous. We get the binoculars and I see a man walking down the beach with a rifle. He seems to be looking towards us. Two women watch from the little house on the beach, one very obese and one in a bright red tee shirt that almost matches the boat.  As I nervously scan the beach I notice a tan colored head in the water swimming between the man with the rifle and our boat, possibly a dog, except the nose doesn’t look quite right.

Another man appears, dragging a smaller pirogue down the beach. He sets off with one paddle through the surf from the steep beach. The man on the beach is yelling instructions to the man in the boat. The creature turns to avoid the small boat and I see the ears that tell me it’s a deer swimming in a panic. Nervously I think don’t shoot.  Eventually the man in the small boat puts a line around the animal’s neck finishing it off. After a brief struggle with the deer in the water the man pulls the animal into the pirogue and paddles back to the shore, as the two women look on. The man carries the deer up the shore to the waiting women, and the anchorage is peaceful again. Unnerving to say the least.

We resume happy hour and eat an early dinner outside. The last few nights we have developed a new practice. To fight off the humidity and heat we have been running the generator for air conditioning for a few hours before bed. This cools off the cabin giving us a better chance at getting to sleep. We have noticed previously that insects are attracted to the lights on the boat so as the darkness sets in, we turn off the cockpit lights and head indoors.   Now, with the air conditioning and the cabin lights on we sit listening to an audible book.  In The Path Between the Seas: The Creation of the Panama Canal, 1870-1914 the author is describing the difficulties of building the Panama canal, with malaria, yellow fever, insects, heat, and rain.  As we are listening to these harsh godforsaken conditions experienced by the French engineers and all of the workers who endured such adversity, Lisa suddenly lets out a shriek.  Our cabin door is built like a patio door.  With large, thick plastic panes and a tightly fitted aluminum frame.  Beyond the panes are thousands of insects, attracted by the lights in the cabin.

Bugs

Flying ants, crickets, beetles, moths a nightmare of entomology.  We are trapped in the cabin.  Some of the creatures have a golden thorax with what appears to be a white LED on the underside…easy to see, as they are walking on the window. Then we notice that the “LEDs” are in fact flashing a bright greenish gold.  Chapter four is about to start and we call it a night.  I figure that turning out the lights will cause the bugs to abandon the party on Footloose.  Our dreams interrupted by visions of creepy crawlies, we awaken to a cockpit filled with a snow bank of wings shed from the flying ants. Some partiers remain, snacking on the bodies of those who did not survive the bacchanal.  Using the wash down hose, we wash away the evidence and get underway for Bahia Benao, after which we will round Punta Mala named so for the huge tidal currents, winds, and swells which focus at this turn into the Bay of Panama.

A school of tuna are leaping out of the water glinting blue in the sunrise. Perhaps, I’ll catch a fish.