Pitufa.at

We’ve finally got a date for the canal transit: Saturday, 15.12.12. We’ll spend the rest of the week in Colon, doing shopping and getting the boat ready for our linehandlers. At the moment fitting 3 overnight guests into Pitufa seems quite a challenge, the forecabin’s stuffed with all kinds of things up the ceiling, but we’ll find space for all the stuff somewhere

The sun’s out again (soon we’ll be complaining about the heat and empty water tanks ) and it seems our luck has turned as well. A fellow cruiser will come to our boat to weld the crack in the boom today, we’ve borrowed a welding machine from another boat and a generator from yet another. Spending time in a big anchorage like Portobelo feels like living in a village: after a while you know everybody and cruisers are usually willing to help each other out

If everything goes fine we’ll sail to Colon tomorrow, the admeasurer will come to the boat on Monday morning (preparation for the canal transit) and then we’ll hopefully get an appointment to go through the Canal soon!

Ever since we got to Panama life has become difficult. Before we got to Portobelo we made a short to-do list: repair refrigerator, weld boom, do provisioning, order electronic equipment, organise canal transit. Now we’ve almost been here a month, each day busy from dusk till dawn, but we’ve managed to accomplish hardly anything. Just to give you an idea: yesterday we had an appointment at the dentist at 11, that means hop on the bus at 9, 2 hours to Colon. We wait for ages at the doctor’s leave at 2, take a taxi to the post office, only to discover that they don’t sell boxes there. They send us on to a shop that does packaging, unfortunately water has gotten into the shop sometime before destroying all their cardbord boxes. Without further ado we search through the stationary shop and find some unused boxes bring them to the counter and the woman actually manages to wrap our things up. 3 o’clock: Back at the post office the woman at the counter is overwhelmed by the task of sending a parcel to Europe, fills in dozens of forms, asks us about procedures (no idea), asks around at the office, etc. 3.45: We hurry to the port in order to get an appointment for the measurement for the canal transit, only to find out that the secretary has left at 1 already, but at least the coffee slurping gentlemen allow us to leave documents there. 5 o’clock: lunch at a shopping center, browse quickly through the electronics department, hurry back to the bus station (almost 6 already, last bus at 6!) and spend 2 hours on the bus squeezed in somewhere at the back with the head next to a loudspeaker blaring enlightening christian songs, holding on to bags while more and more passengers are squeezed in on the way, some of them hanging out of the doors. 8: back at the boat, level of exhaustion very high, level of achievement very low.

Last night at 3 o’clock Leeloo woke us with her triumphant howling announcing a successfull hunt. I reluctantly got up to check what she had, when I lifted her up she let go of the black shape in her mouth, who fluttered excitedly into the aft cabin–a bat. I opened the hatch, but the poor guy desperately flew round and round without ever looking up (so much for the infallible echolocation system…). Christian finally managed to trap him under a cardboard box under which he then steered the bat to the hatch to show him the way out.

After all that nightly excitement we slept long (till 7.30) and woke up with sunrays lighting up the cabin. Hooray! We seized the chance and hiked up to the fort towering over the bay–quite an impressive view. We hurried back to get breakfast and managed reaching the boat before the next rainshower

It’s been raining constantly since Monday, the longest “dry spells” lasted about half an hour. As soon as the rain stops or eases up a bit dinghies start buzzing over the bay full speed in order to get to the village or back without getting soaked. We stayed under deck for three days, only venturing out to dry off the cockpit occasionally and to fill some buckets into the watertank. Leeloo’s also pissed off. As soon as she goes outside the rain welcomes her splashing horizontally into the cockpit and she returns loudly complaining to bed. Wednesday morning was the last time we saw the yellow thingy in the sky that’s supposed to shine all day and burn down hot in the tropics…

The last three days it’s been pouring down, the grey and dark weather reminds us of typical all saints day weather in Austria (fortunately it’s warmer). Rainy weather on the boat is annoying, because when being confined inside it would make sense to work on the computer or do jobs on the sewing machine, but without sun the solar panels don’t charge the batteries so we shouldn’t use too much energy either… Yesterday we got so bored that we went snorkeling in the rain, when we got home we were freezing despite of the pee-warm water, drank hot cacoa and put on socks for the first time in ages–a funny contrast: white beach, swaying palm trees and thick winter socks

The dry weather only lasted for a short while, today it’s been pouring down again. In the afternoon a huge bow emerged from the grey clouds and soon after a cruise ship anchored behind us. Apparently there’s lots around in the San Blas during dry season, but it’s the first one we spotted here. Soon after their arrival Kuna canoes paddled to the beach to display molas and then the crew started shipping passengers from the cruise ship to the island as well–everything still in torrential rainfalls. The poor “cruisaders” picked a bad day for an afternoon at the beach, but when swimming in the San Blas is on the schedule, it’s got to be done, because tomorrow they’ll be somewhere completely different . The luckier Pitufos aren’t in such a hurry and have the chance to spend some more, hopefully nicer days here.

Even though we are well below the hurricane belt, the weather here is still massively affected by Hurricane Sandy. It’s been rainy for days and gusty southerly winds rattle Pitufa violently, but our anchorage at Nargana protects us well from both southerly windwaves and the high northerly swell. So we really should not complain about minor comfort issues such as splashy dinghy rides while massive destruction happens in