Boating

Around Solarte

With keys to my boat in hand I had to go somewhere, anywhere, just burn some gas and explore. I headed out from behind Tropical Paradise past Hospital Point on the west end of Isla Solarte, so named as it was the site of the hospital for United Fruit Company when it had its headquarters on Isla Colon. A mile to the north lay Old Town on the western tip of Isla Bastimentos, known locally as Jurassic Park densely inhabited on the west end, the end nearest Bocas Town. Old Town is almost exclusively populated by Caribbeanos, blacks that came to this region before the turn of the last century, when this was part of Colombia. I continued down past a vacant stretch of the island, unoccupied by anything but birds, frogs, capybara, snakes and lizards. Across from Red Frog beach, I neared the shore to look at the house I was to close on the next day. On the east end of the island I meandered in crystal clear waters rich with fish through mangroves. Now and again a wooden shack, built over the water served as the residence of a Ngobe Indian. The Ngobe took up residence in the archipelago in the 1950's, formerly dwelling on the mainland, usually in the mountains, rich with game and currently one king, the sole remaining king in the western hemisphere.

The run south was short but slow, I was just sucking in the view. I proceeded back south southeast on the south side of the mangrove islands, rising from the sea bed and hosting crabs, snapper and all manner of young aquatic life. Deciding it was time to head back I picked up speed. The water colors continually changed from deep blue to dare I say light aquamarine to near clear the color influenced by the depth and the composition of the sea bed. I soon found myself rapidly upon a patch of water that was but a couple of feet deep as indicated by the depth finder my eyes had not deceived me. I throttled back completely and made it past apparently unscathed. Hmmm, the depth finder no longer works, I'll have to check on the transponder later. Back to town I was joined by a couple of women and we headed out again to the house, sat on the deck and returned to town.

Lomo Partida

I took three passengers to Lomo Partida a remote island on the south end of the archipelago. Seven years ago there was nothing there but Indians, snakes, crocs, monkeys, various small wild cats and jaguars. Now it is gringoville. The round trip was about 40 miles, not a bad days boating. I'll cover that more in another entry.

Off to Town

Needing supplies, I boarded the boat on the morning following my first night at my new house. Hayu joined me and then hopped off at the last minute. The tide was out, being but 18" it is not significant, neither was the two foot chop. Frequently, I dare say usually the water is as flat as a pond, disturbed by little more than ripples. About a hundred yards off the justly famous snorkeling spot in front of hospital point I saw a fully exposed coral head directly ahead of me. Six feet long and directly ahead but 10 feet, I throttled back again and braced for the impact that would surely rip a hole in the bottom of the boat and deprive me of a good deal of dentition. Riding high on two swells I again thought I had escaped disaster, but now the engine revved another thousand RPM than it was capable of previously. Ok, a chunk of prop must have been torn off. After docking I raised the motor, the skeg on the outboard was undamaged but a couple of inches of the tip of one blade was now decorating the coral. Ah well, the prop was overpitched anyway, I had planned to replace it with the 14" x 13 prop that came with the boat.

Prop Replacement

The following day, I took the preferred prop into town and with the help of a friend, who has a satisfactory collection of tools replaced the prop. The new prop certainly allowed the motor to operate in the power zone, 5k-6k RPM and with a load of four people pushed through the water at an improved rate of near 17 knots. I dropped off three at Red Frog and headed home. At 6000 RPM I proceeded by myself at a slower rate than I formerly managed at 4,200 RPM. Damn. I guess I'm going to have to pop for a new prop. The next day I put the damaged prop back on. At least this way I could cruise at 17.8 knots at 4,800 RPM.

Rain

Lying in bed, I heard the rain, starting without notice. I walked down the stairs to check on the boat. A bumper lay in the stern, atop the float lever for the bilge pump. I moved the bumper to the shelf attached to the stern and the bilge pump kicked to life. Good thing I checked.

Gas Repair and Wildlife

Two days with no propane I popped into town to pick up a propane specialist to tell me why nothing was working after I replaced my propane tank. As I got the boat on plane, water flowed from the bilge into the uncovered stern. Ensuring that no one was around, I reduced speed to about 12 knots and walked to the back to pull the plug to the passive drain, nothing much more than a hole in the boat with a simple plug, not much more than one would use to reseal a wine bottle that had not been emptied, a concept which eludes people on islands. Holding the plug so that it wouldn't get lost and just as importantly so I wouldn't forget to replace it I cruised for a while while hundreds of gallons of sea water met its intended destination. The boat having been drained, I pulled into Casa Verde, located the technician, a friend and was ready to set sail. A pair of sisters, one of whom runs a resort on Bastimentos tagged along for a free ride. Hugging the shore of Bastimentos to avoid the shallows in the middle of the channel. What was that? "An iguana" to much laughter. Strong swimmers it was but a quarter mile off shore, apparently coming to visit me on my island. After the repairs were effected I returned to town to drop off my friend and the technician. The night was moonless and the sun sets rapidly in the tropics, it was not going to get any darker. My flashlight, strobing at 200 lumens made me the most visible object on the water. The boat died, sounding like it was out of gas. I had just filled up earlier in the day. What the hell? Turns out the rubber tube that comes from the tank had rubbed against the bumper which I had relocated the prior evening and had a small hole that was treated with pressure from Walter's thumb until we made it to dock at which time the damaged portion was cut off and the end reattached. With the lights of old town in view I kept a respectful distance from Hospital Point. I hung around for a bit and headed back out using my flashlight to check the GPS, the water, the gas line. Navigating by lights on shore is a really bad idea. Yup, the house on the point had its light out. Had I the first house with a light on as a reference point I would have beached the boat.

I received a phone call. "Are you back home yet?" "No, man, I'm going slowly." I returned to my vigilance. Shortly I saw a large log floating in the water. No, it wasn't a log, it was a large crocodile. Not a five or six foot caiman but a full blown croc. Holy Shit! I made my way home without further incident. The stars were radiant in the cloudless sky, a view I could not appreciate with all other concerns at hand. Fish of some species I know not jumped

Conclusions

I need a bigger motor. The bulb on GPS needs to be replaced. A spare plug, a spare bilge pump. A boat is not a luxury, it's five miles to the nearest store, by water, there are none on the Isla Solarte and walking through the jungle would not be possible if there were.