much, much better than expected

Ever since our 30 some hours of ferry riding in the Adriatic Sea a few years back, we have been very reluctant to jump on any type of boat for longer than an hour or so. Boats have a unique ability to drive one stir crazy as there is simply no place to go on a vessel. Couple that with varrying conditions, possible rough seas, and the possibility of really not liking the people on the boat and you can sense why I might have some trepidation over an 8 day excursion around the Darien Gap.

For those of you who don't know, there is a section of the Americas that has never quite been tamed by a road. Due in part to dense jungle, very autonomous indigenous peoples, and lawless drug smugglers, the Darien Gap represents a high stakes obstacle for vehicles traveling south like we are. The options are: hire a guide and take your chances through swamps and mosquito infested tracks through the jungle (we just aren't cool enough to do that yet), put your bikes and yourselves on an airplane and fly to Colombia (this costs around $1300 per person), or take a boat around the Gap. We had heard horror stories from friends  about overcrowded boats and incapable captains and wanted to try to avoid this scenario if possible. However, with minimal information out there and no real guidelines to go on, committing to a boat felt a bit like a crapshoot.

So we chose the biggest boat (and one of the most expensive- $900 per bike/ person unit) and decided that you probably get what you pay for. What we ended up with is none other than a classic 110 year old 35 meter dutch schooner captained by a capable, boisterous, and loving German expat and crewed a Swiss woman and Austrian stallion who crew the boat because, well, what else are they going to do?
The Stahlratte really is a pleasurable experience. Even if we weren't driving south, I would consider a trip to Panama/ Colombia just to enjoy the fruits of this wonderful ship. There was plenty of food, they have desalination capabilities on board so there was abundant fresh water, they managed the motos quite well, and being a relatively large boat (and me being somewhat of an introvert), there was always a hammock or lounge chair somewhere on the boat to have a little alone time.

It doesn't really take 8 days to travel from Carti to Cartegena. In fact, I think it could be done in around 30 hours. So what took 8 days? Paradise got in the way.
After loading the bikes onto the Stahlratte (more on that later). We motored for a couple hours over to group of island called Coco Bandera. Some of these islands are 200 meters in diameter and some are a mere 10. They are the perfect "deserted islands" that you think of when you think of being stranded on a deserted island.

The plan was to sail our way along the shore from island to island for 8 days, but after arriving in one particular group, the decision was made to just hang out here for the entirety of the trip. By day we would snorkel the wonderful corrals, or perhaps take the boat out for a sail around the area, or maybe drift by a Kuna indigenous island village, or maybe just nap the afternoons away in a hammock swinging in the ocean breeze. All 17 of us on board got along fabulously and evenings might include singing songs, perhaps a Colombia beach BBQ, or even a rowdy pirate party.
For a guy who likes to fidget quite a bit, it was a nice change to relax for a week and not think about the bikes or about moving about. But all good things must end and when the time came for the 28 hour crossing of the Caribbean Sea to Cartegena, the smooth waters of the islands gave way to the choppy open sea. Some people discover that they don't get sick on boats and are pleasantly surprised at how they handle constant rocking in 2 meter swells. I, on the other hand, found out what it was like to be uncomfortable for a full day and night. Getting out of bed made me sick. Drinking coffee made me sick. Thinking about drinking coffee made me sick. Pissing off the side of the boat made me sick. About the only thing that didn't make me sick was lying completely horizontal and staring straight up at the sky. Once the stars came out, this was actually quite pleasant (I think I saw the southern cross).
After a long, long time, we finally arrived in Cartegena where we now wait for our bikes to clear customs. We arrived on a friday afternoon and the offices are closed on the weekends, so we are passing the time in a the most important port in Colonial America trying just to prevent overheating. It is hot here.

How we got the bikes onto a sail boat

Many have asked how in the world we took our bikes on a sail boat.

The process involved waking up at 4 am in Panama city and driving out on what turned out to not be too bad of a road to Carti. They are in the process of paving the road, so the downpours of rain, didn't make for as muddy a road as I had worried about. The river crossing was pretty mellow after our experiences in the Baja. After Megan got in trouble with a military guy at checkpoint for blasting through the road block because an aggressive dog was chasing her we found the shack by the water where for 26 dollars we loaded our bikes into a canoe. This canoe took us out into the sea and pulled up next to the mighty Stahlratte. They used their square sail boom to lift the bikes off the canoe and securely onto the side of the boat. They were secured and we put our great little Aerostitch covers over the bikes to protect them from the salt water. Apparently, we will load them into the dingy tomorrow and take them onshore. I am working on a video of the whole experience and hope to publish it soon. Stay tuned.


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