Guna Yala, Sailing San Blas
18th Jan - 2nd Feb 2025
Guna Yala is an indigenous province of Panama comprising of approximately 365 islands. They are partially inhabited by the Guna people, a native population of approximately 32,000 who proudly established their political autonomy from Panama approximately 100 years ago. It is otherwise but more commonly known as the San Blas islands, the Spanish name given to the region by the Conquistadors.
The islands are remote and skirt the dense forest of the Darian Gap and largely uninhabited and undeveloped mainland region of Panama towards Colombia. There is just one lone road on the mainland that gets even remotely close to any of the island settlements navigable by 4x4 only, and visiting by private sail boat is arguably the best way to authentically experience the many islands and visit their inhabitants. Remarkably, the permanent population is still 95% Guna’s and they are protective of their ways of life adopting few modern amenities. Furthermore Guna’s and are famed to live to old age in good health without modern medicines or intervention.
After sailing from Escudo De Veraguas, Charles, Ben, Alex and I moored Argonaut in Shelter Bay marina adjacent to the Caribbean entrance to the Panama Canal. After driving across the width of Panama from one ocean to another 6 times (more on that in a later post!) we provisioned the boat with approximately 2 weeks worth of supplies to explore the remote islands. Patching the freezer with liquid weld epoxy and having it re-gassed after being punctured in a over enthusiastic defrosting effort, we can finally set sail north east, once again on a beat. Negotiating the many tankers awaiting their canal transit, we set our sights on Linton Bay for a technical stop enroute. With the skipper intending to leave Argonaut for a month or so after our trip to Guna Yala, the purpose of our visit was just to scout out the quality of the marina. We were soon to discover there was a little more to Linton than we initially anticipated.
Linton Bay
We had enjoyed an upwind sail to Linton and whilst excitedly talking about future yacht racing plans for later in the year, we opt to take a more sporting coastal route. Watching the depth sounder rapidly reduce and the waves breaking on the shallow and increasingly shallow reefs we work up a sweat tacking Argonaut back and forth through stunning islands and mountainous scenery. On approach to Linton Bay, the natural backdrop is starkly contrasted by a floating structure more closely resembling the Stig’s race helmet than any typical home. It is one of 3 similar structures in the Linton area constructed by ‘Ocean Builders’, these pods are prototypes for homes anchored at sea. One of the more offshore structures was the subject of an on going world record attempt for living underwater. The record setter had already comfortably surpassed the Guinness World Record of 100 days, and was planning to return to the surface from the underwater pod the following week on Day 120.
The large anchorage was mostly sheltered by the outer uninhabited island of Isla Linton. Uninhabited that is, if you don’t count the resident spider monkeys, who have been known to aggressively chase people away and have occupied some of the abandoned buildings. Adam on our buddy boat Nanuka had fondly recounted the tale of his friend being chased out of tree years prior on a previous visit and we kept our distance.
We soon scouted the peculiar boatyard, a collection of eclectic boats and people before a night on anchor. The following day we embarked on another dinghy expedition to a snorkel spot to the east and approaching another one of the floating pods we saw Barracuda cruising around its floating underwater legs before the owner hung out a window to say hi. He told of how he had lived there for nearly two years with his partner, and commuted to land via jetski or paddleboard.
We had heard of a mangrove tunnel to west of our anchorage which led to the even more unusual ‘Panamarina’ Approaching through breaking waves, we’re soon forced to lift the outboard to clear shallow coral heads. Soon however the depth returns an we progress through a cystal clear lagoon before the mangroves close in around us. We’d taken a road beer, as at the narrowest point of the tunnel, we meet a oncoming dinghy, their crew also with beers in hand. Both our dinghies andber bounce off each other to a cry of “cheers”!
Banedup
We depart late evening, for an overnight passage to the Guna Yala islands, at a time which should see us arrive mid morning. Arriving by daylight with the sun high important, as being able to eyeball the shallows when approaching poorly charted anchorages for the first time is near essential, particularly with our generous 2.4m draft. The sail was largely uneventful and fast after we have punched north to windward to get a broader angle on the wind once we set course eastwards. Near midnight I’m on solo watch as we pass by the blinking lights of an offshore fish farm supposedly farming Coiba, but despite warnings on the chart we pass through unscathed not seeing any fishing activity.
Awoken from my off watch I climb into early morning daylight to assist with the navigation and approach to our first anchorage adjacent to the island of ‘Banedup’. Here our friends from Guernsey on Nanuka are anchored in the ‘swimming pool’. With a strong north to south current flowing in over the barrier reef, and a white sandy bottom, the water is crystal clear, and appears deceptively shallow. A popular anchorage, we opt to anchor due south of Banedup knowing the breeze is due to build over next few days. Here without current were soon swimming straight from Argonaut to cool off.
The newbies in the anchorage, we are soon targeted by the local Guna people who approach in dugout trees, some with sails to challenge the finest cloth from North Sails. We pay the token 10 dollar fee for anchoring and another approaches to play a hard sale of Mola. The Molas are hand stitched pieces of art, famously created by the Guna people, Ignacio took pride in showing us what must have been hundreds of pieces before we shortlisted a few and traded hands with more dollars than I wish to disclose. No haggling here!
Soon after, we board our tender Argonauty to reunite with Adam and Liv on Nanuka, and meet Liv’s aunty Leah who has joined for a couple of weeks to explore the islands. We’re soon filled in on the snorkeling hotspots and after a coffee and a couple of Liv’s morish boat baked biscuits, we head north to fall into the sea. With the strong current I offer to man the dinghy whilst the others drift with the current. Heads pop up with expressions of excitement and even from the surface I can can see an abundance of fish life in more than 3 metres of water around the colourful coral heads. Soon it is my turn and I’m taken back by the water clarity and health of the reef beneath me. The current changes in pace as the depth alters and the sea bed varies from eel grass beds to stand alone coral heads to dense coral reefs and then rolling sand banks. On the sanding banks we free dive along side a large southern stingray, unperturbed by our presence. We repeat the drift several times, each as invigorating as the last. On the dinghy ride back a particularly large nurse shark is spotted soon after a turtle cruises beneath us, and we again don masks and plunge into the sea.
Ibins, Bamboo & Braais
Anticipating our arrival, Liv and Ads had proposed and booked a meal at Ibin’s restaurant on the north coast of Banedup. Built on stilts and over the shallows, we enjoyed freshly caught sea food in great company. The plates were cleaned with the help of a friendly gecko.
The following day, we were back in the water freediving the vibrant reefs. Come the afternoon, Ben and I scouted potential afternoon braai spots, settling on the corner of an unnamed and deserted to island to the west of the swimming pool anchorage. We scavenged firewood on the windward shore and soon the troops from other boats started to arrive. With Ads lending a hand we soon had a makeshift volleyball net erected with generously long bamboos and our dinghy anchor line.
Mermaids
After landing on Banedup’s southern shoreline and dragging the dinghy up the beach, we stroll along the pristine beach still somewhat in awe of the tropical paradise we had found ourselves in. We had stocked up on beach games back in the Panama City Decathlon, and crossed the island back towards Ibin’s to with a view to making the most of the volleyball court. After an intense game of frizbee-come-crab-catching in the shallows, Ben and went to complete a loop of the east end of the island. Here I stumble upon Anouka and Anna in the shade of a coconut tree. Backpackers from France and Germany respectively, I soon discover they are somewhat in the lurch with their future travel plans. Having joined catamaran in Bocas Del Toro with intent to sail to Colombia, their skipper was now reluctant to progress further and they had found themselves somewhat marooned in these idyllic yet remote islands. Soon we are all playing volleyball, and trying not to trip over a random child who has joined one of our teams. We’re still not sure where he came from. Discovering Anna and Anouka were yet to fully enjoy the best freediving spots in the area we return to Argonaut to load up with snorkeling kit. We free dive until the daylight fades and we’re forced from the water by darkness.
Dropping Anna and Anouka back to their boat with a loose plan to reconvene at the beach bar with Nanuka’s crew, we quick change and head to the beach. We find Liv, Leah and Ads on a table in the sea and naturally we find joy in some boat buffoonery by trying to all transfer from dinghy to the benches with out getting wet. Spoiler, we failed. We drop the anchor and back down to the bench, tying it off to the bench. There was just enough surge in the swell for the dinghy to start a pendulum motion and soon the dinghy is threatening to smash the outboard or pull the back of the bench over with us in tow. I jump into waist deep water to stop the chaos and help push the dinghy to shore with Ben, but within one step I’m suddenly chest deep and regretting still wearing my shirt, We wrestle the dinghy ashore and place the drinks order, curious to know if Anna and Anouka have swum ashore having politely declined our taxi offer.
In dresses rather than swimsuits, Anna and Anouka arrive, and a damn sight drier than myself. Their skipper has generously run them ashore and in an instant, the Nanuka x Argonaut Guna Yala tribe is united for the first time. A group with shared passions for adventure, exploring and a good time, we traded laughs and stories into the evening, unaware just how many more experiences would be packed into the next couple of weeks. The following morning we set sail to Green Island further south, dodging uncharted shallows with breaking swells before slingshotting around the bottom of the island and finding a sheltered spot to set the hook.
Green Island
Unashamedly proud of our prior volleyball net creation, Ben and I set about scouting the island for another prime braai area and volleyball court. Settling on the North west corner a court was soon built in the warm shallows and we spent a few hours foraging driftwood for the fire. With hammocks, tree benches and large wood supply to keep the fire stoked, Liv’s slackline and a makeshift seesaw, we enjoyed the company of fellow yachts people including Nanuka, Daniel and Pauline from yacht EOS and James from the curious junk rigged Banemalo amongst others. Sailors taking part in the World ARC joined in our volleyball antics and as dusk fell, Anouka and Anna, having gently persuaded their skipper to sail to Green Island joined in with braai. A somewhat varied mix of supplies were brought to the braai master Charles from a saucepan solely for coffee to freshly speared fish. By the end of the night, with Charles comfortably asleep in a hammock, coconut crabs helps picked up scraps (apart from the chocolate brownies…).
The days following we freedived nearby reefs and explored the neighbouring islands, soaking up the sun and the stunning surroundings. The prevailing winds brought a colourful but deadly threat, with Portuguese man o’ war sailing on the wind and being stranded on the shorelines.
Enasdup
James, owner of Banemalo from Idaho generously showed us around his unusual junk rigged Wharram catamaran. With no deck protection whatsoever, one would not be blamed for questioning its suitability for open ocean crossings as James intended in the future. The net hammock slung beneath the deck was a novel feature and the perfect spot to snooze out of the sun and watch the sea life below.
One of the following evenings James had sailed to nearby Enasdup island where we joined for yet more stunning freediving and a spirited get together of barefoot travelers. Banemalo provided the perfect open plan lounge and diner for fellow international sailors to congregate under a starry sky and use one of her many quirky features, the pizza oven in the cockpit!
Rio Diablo
Anchoring in the lee of the Guna settlement of Nargana, we prepare ourselves for an expedition to the mainland. Rio Diablo weaves inland and is the principle supply of fresh water to the island town. The locals take containers in dugout canoes up the river to where it is clear and fresh and fill these regularly, and we had heard how there was desirable spot for swimming upstream so we board the colorful Banana Boat, Nanuka’s trusty steed, and Argonauty.
As we approach the river entrance through the shallow estuary, the outboard soon runs aground and we resort to paddles and jumping into the chocolate coloured water to drag the dinghy through short breaking waves. That is until I see a fallen tree with a moving branch… A generously sized crocodile turns and rears its head flaunting teeth before slipping into the murky water. We opt to progress with a more cautious approach keeping limbs out the water until we can drop the outboard again and progress inland. We are surrounded by the sounds of birdlife and spoilt by wildlife sightings on the rivers edge but need to keep a close watch as the river is littered with many large fallen trees just beneath the surface.
Nargana
The morning following our river expedition, Charles, Anna, Anouka and I nip ashore to the Guna island town of Nargana. As well as exploring the densely developed island and trying to stock up on fresh supplies, we set out to scout option for Anna and Anouka to return to the mainland to make onward connections. In passing I greet a local in his front yard, gratefully he enthusiastically speaks broken English, and turns out to be a teacher on the island. It soon becomes clear connections to the mainland are, as suspected, infrequent and pricey, so with ample space aboard Argonaut, they are to join us for our remaining time exploring Guna Yala.
Curiously the town is festooned with colourful swastikas. The Guna flag predated the adoption of the symbol by the Nazi’s and is still flown proudly throughout the region, although a new flag sans swastika is also extensively used. With some basic supplies acquired, and very nearly a young cat, we return to Argonaut keen to move anchorage to somewhere we could once again swim, without town run off, or crocs!
Ubigantupo
Setting sail west, we soon find ourselves in pursuit of another yacht on a similar heading, In racing spirit we line up on the rail, along with our swimmers pegged out to dry. Comfortably overhauling our competitor,(let’s not talk about how much bigger Argonaut’s rig was) we are soon approaching our next anchorage. On paper, this looked particularly squeaky for our deep draft, but exercising great caution we cleared the reef and and are into the deep lagoon to the south of the island of Ubigantupo. On arrival Nanuka shares the anchorage with a catamaran who soon departs that evening, and the two Guernsey yachts then have the island to themselves.
Not knowing it would be our last, Ben and I scout and prep the braai spot whilst other prep food and catch fish. That night we peaked on the desolate island of Ubigantupo, sharing laughs and playing one last hat game together and finishing the night with another of Liv’s expert boat bakes.
The following day, Anouka and Anna are soon trying their hand at halyard swinging, and work on perfecting their backflips of the pulpit. The hammock is rigged from the spinnaker pole, and I’m careful to rig it in a very specific manner. With a full audience later that day the beak of the spinnaker pole is sharply released and Ben quickly comes to terms with gravity! We’re spoilt again with pristine freediving conditions, and my Gopro leaks and calls it quits just before being surrounded by eagle rays.
Cayos Chicheme
Our final stop in the Guna Yala islands was Chicheme island to the north. A clear reminder of the treacherous shallow reefs is the San Blas ferry, rusting away in the vibrant blue waters. Owned by a business man with a view to setting up a ferry link between Panama and Colombia (the symbolism was not lost on Anna and Anouka) it had foundered on the reef when a engine stalled attempting to tow a catamaran, under the same ownership, that had already run aground. Nearly 10 years later, it continues to breakup without insurance or plans to salvage.
We had a finally few hard fought games of volleyball on Chicheme with both other travelers and locals, the latter showing up our lack of talent often in spectacular fashion!
Soon it was time to set sail back to mainland Panama, but not without another unconventional race en route…
Diving with hammerheads, white tips and an otherworldly underwater experience at Kicker Rock.