Life under the son of Q

Celebrating our first night out of the marina with a Rose Cava and seaweed salad for appetizer that we had planned to have to celebrate getting to the San Blas.

Life under quarantine here in Panama has been like the movie Groundhog Day. Everyone, everywhere has a story to tell of how they are/were passing through these unusual times. Our previous blog explained what life was like here under the strict quarantine rules in Panama. Then after about 3 months of rigidity like Damocles unchained, green shoots of new life emerged as the Panamanian government began to ease the horrific restrictions they imposed. But our gains were short-lived.

Red Frog Marina in the rearview mirror after 3 months.

Even before the lockdown ended cases began growing. Here in Bocas del Toro islands there were no cases until just a few days before the 2 hour per day 3 days per week restrictions were eased. During the lockdowns many of the locals failed to follow the rules and clandestine parties were held, boats moved around at night and congregate communities continued to exist fanning the spread. Most cruisers sat isolated with only occasional trips into town and taking precautions. To my knowledge no cruiser in our area has been diagnosed with Covid.

A stormy sunset from Starfish Beach anchorage

With the easing of restrictions boats were allowed to move around within the archipelago but transit elsewhere was still restricted. The airports remained closed and only limited commerce resumed. Most notably was the allowance of the sales of alcohol. Allegedly alcohol sales were banned to discourage parties but other concerns including domestic violence and wandering drunken mobs used to justify the prohibition. Whatever the reason it didn't work well in reducing the spread of Covid but the commerce ministers were successful in ending the ban by pointing out the losses in the beverage industry would cripple if not eliminate many domestic enterprises making many more long-term unemployed. So like the end of prohibition spirits once again became available.


A trip to Swan Cay for snorkeling and bird watching. A beautiful little set of rocks complete with a swim through cave.

We left Red Frog Marina on the island of Bastimentos where we spent the 3 months of the Q hoping to enjoy cruising around the archipelago. Our plan at that point was to cruise for a month and then go back to Bocas Marina where we would leave the boat and fly back to the States. Well, we did take off and cruise but by the time we went back to Bocas Marina the government had already announced the airport would not reopen as planned and now there was a new prohibition against travel.

An indigenous settlement on the mainland as we return to anchor after our visit to Swan Cay.

During our month out we visited several anchorages occasionally meeting up with friends - at a distance - and conducting limited socializing. When we meet other cruisers we are reluctant to be as free as we might be normally but still we sort of assume most of us living in a degree of isolation are Covid free. Most cruisers we know when going to town wear masks and clean their hands and minimize their close contact with locals.  It helps that there are relatively few cases on the islands and all are being closely monitored that we have some degree of confidence that most people we encounter are negative for the virus. As we started going back to town we saw the stores enforcing mask requirements, spraying hand sanitizer and taking temperatures.

In snorkeling around our anchorage we found a second six-pointed star.

The beginning of July we entered Bocas Marina as we had planned. But knowing we couldn't fly back we decided we would do a few boat chores and then head back out. As they say no plan survives contact intact. The Bocas archipelago has some very scenic and protected anchorages where it is easy to pass a few days snorkeling or viewing other wildlife.

El Clandestino Restaurant where we met several friends for lunch. Outstanding food, reasonable prices and very relaxed atmosphere. This was the only place we could go out to eat. It's all open air.

The government issued decree prohibiting the movement of private boats throughout Panama put somewhat of a damper on our movement. Seems that lots of charters and excursion boats in Panama City and Colon started running their usual entertainment routes allowing parties and large social gatherings. Here in Bocas a large group of cruisers had dinner at a place we had just been to the day before and a local competitor did a video of the dinner and turned it into the police. As a result the government issued the movement decree.

Our Quarantine Cove where we spent many days. With complete protection from squalls, no boat traffic and a few indigenous cayucos. Great isolation.

With the continued restrictions life for those of us still here life has taken on a surreal feeling. Most of us live on our boats so if we leave we have no place to go and who knows when we can return. The government of Panama is unpredictable in its policies and autocratic. To some extent they have granted some dispensation to regions like ours that really don't have many cases but without the ability to move or freely exercise we are pretty much stuck on our boats. We get up everyday and do boat chores and now work to ready the boat for long-term layup. But, just waiting is demoralizing.

One of our favorite meals. Linda's homemade pizza with her vegetable ragout as topping with fresh basil and fresh mozzarella cheese accompanied by a nice bottle of Spanish wine that we brought back from Spain.

It's also lobster season. Locals are selling fish to try to make money since many are hungry from the lockdowns so I was happy to buy 3 fresh lobsters from them. The remains I gave to a marina worker who makes soup with them.

People living in the US or other places where the term lockdown is used gratuitously really can't imagine what life is really like living in true quarantine.  During the lockdowns in the US as I understand it people could pretty much move freely, stores had most things in reasonable quantity, it was possible to go to parks, do recreational activities, go out to eat and lots of people can work

Sunset at anchor in Dolphin Bay.

remotely. Here, movement is totally restricted, no recreational activities, most businesses have closed, most supplies while available were intermittent and there are few outlets for outside meals or entertainment. So for those of us on boats we stay on our boats, if on anchor we can swim around our boat or in a marina we can walk around the marina. It's like being under house arrest and if you go there's really not much to do anyway other than get groceries and maybe some hardware.

One of our lunches with friends at El Clandestino. Louis and Elena on s/v Cirque and Jackie and Dan (not in this pic) from IP 40 Pleasant Living.

The broader impact is that most people here have no income other than a small government subsidy. Bocas is a large tourist area and with no tourists there is no income. Many people with homes elsewhere in the country have gone there. With no business and no incomes people have turned to begging on the street and possibly soon to crime although there will be nowhere to sell their ill-gotten proceeds.

Looking out at Dolphin Bay from Green Acres Cacao Farm.

For us, it's one day after another of doing the daily chores we need to do, work on the boat as needed and find some outlet for exercise. For now, the local police don't seem to be enforcing the movement restrictions on cruisers so we can discretely move from one isolated anchorage to another without issue.

A green poisonous dart frog at Green Acres. We have now seen red frogs and green frogs here in Bocas.

We finally bought some clippers and Linda cut my 3 months of hair growth so that I can feel human again. The day after coming back into Bocas Marina I was busy doing many chores and late in the day I washed the cockpit and slipped on a soapy seat falling into the companionway step. I hit the step with my lower ribs. Unable to breathe I managed to pull myself up, restarted breathing and recovered. But after 6 weeks I still feel the pain from the bruised rib although I have pretty much regained full mobility.

Gary Mitchell, one of the owners of the Green Acres Cacao Farm explaining about one of the ginger plants.

Since recovering we have been back out cruising spending time at anchor and back to town for necessities. Visiting quietly with friends and continuing daily chores.

When raising our anchor for the last time the windlass motor died with the anchor at the bow roller. When I pulled off the assembly I found the gearbox full of water. I have a spare motor but need new seals. Clean it up and rebuild, reattach and back in business. Just an example of daily boat chores. Spares count when it absolutely positively can't be there overnight. 












Panama has finally started easing back more of the restrictions but it does not look like we will actually be able to fly back to the US in September on a regularly scheduled flight to do all the necessary stuff we need while we leave the boat here in the water. We may be able to get on a flight out but getting back still may be problematic. Before we leave we have lots to do repairing our AC and windlass, taking down and cleaning the sails, removing our running rigging and replacing it with sacrificial lines and deep cleaning as we set it up for our absence. Decommissioning the boat gives us a sense of purpose and direction that we lacked for most of the past 6 months. Many people we know have flown back on humanitarian flights arranged by the US Embassy. Our home is here.

Typical return after shopping day. Linda cleans and disinfects all the produce and since we eat mostly a plant-based diet that's a lot of work she does. Much more expensive here than in Rio Dulce

So, with some luck we will be back in the US in a few short weeks and when we return we should be able to resume cruising to some degree. Now, busy times getting the boat ready for our departure. Oh, and did I mention it's the rainy season making it even gloomier. Some days we just go back to bed to wait for the rain to stop. Hopefully, better times ahead.

A beautiful sunset in our quarantine cove.