Shinrin Yoku - Forest Bathing

 

We have moved from Shelter Bay Marina and transited the Panama Canal aboard Leilani! We are currently on the Pacific Ocean side waiting for paperwork and good weather windows to move on.

We will present more on the crossing in an upcoming post. For now, we share some of the extraordinary nature we "bathed in" over this past year. 

It was an extraordinary year. It may surprise you to say that, remarkably, we were happy in Shelter Bay Marina. Despite the extended curfews and lock-downs that further isolated us from the rest of Panama and the world, we were mostly content in our bubble with fellow sailors and Panamanians.

We know that our contentment was enhanced primarily by one thing – We had a forest as our back yard. 

Recently, Steph from the sailing vessel, Matador, thanked us for sharing the walk and remarked that our walk had some of the qualities of the therapeutic Japanese practice of shinrin yoku, in English, forest bathing. We were delighted to learn that shinrin yoku, is not exercise, or hiking, or jogging. It is simply being in nature connecting with it through your senses. 

While we admit we are often a bit more directed and purpose-driven on our nature walks than might be dictated by ‘pure’ forest bathing for example, as we focus to see if the sloth has returned, or if that bird call is the chestnut mandibled toucan, we have been able to enjoy the fundamental benefits of health and happiness from the forest as shinrin yoku provides.

We cannot share all of our sensory experiences from our immersion in the forest, but we have selected some photos that we hope may give you a glimpse, a taste, a smell, a sound, and a feel of the forest that was our backyard.

 

We miss our nature walks with our fellow sailors. We know we were incredibly fortunate to be renewed and invigorated over and over again by nature.

UPCOMING POST: Canal Transit - the routine and the drama

Dispatch: Sheltering in Shelter Bay during a Pandemic

One of our neighbors, a three toed sloth, in Shelter Bay, Panama.

Things have changed

Things have changed. Things have changed for us, for you, and for the entire world.

We hope you all are well and practicing safe social distancing. We are just fine and doing the same here, thank you. 

Shelter Bay Marina is our new home. We are glad to be here.

We are “sheltering in place” aboard Leilani in Shelter Bay Marina on the Atlantic Ocean side of the entrance to the Panama Canal across from the city of Colón, Panama.

It is said that sailors make their plans in the sand- the sand of a beach at low tide. As we have often repeated, sailing is more about intentions than plans and schedules.

Before we left Bocas del Toro, Panama we decided we would not make the crossing to the South Pacific this year, and instead, would remain in the region, primarily to explore the enchanting isles of San Blas.  The complicated process of applying for an extended stay (up to 1 year vs. 90 days) visa in French Polynesia further dissuaded us from heading into the Pacific as it would entail jumping through many hoops (e.g. sending our passports, proof of vaccinations, and assorted forms to Tahiti) which would ultimately delay any crossing this year by at least a couple of months.

Of course, we could not know at the time how important it was for us to postpone that voyage. Virtually the entire South Pacific is now essentially closed to most foreign vessels.

The Canal in a Pandemic 

We intended to make only a brief stop here in Shelter Bay to wait for a weather window to head to San Blas. That was over a month ago.

We waited for the weather window to go San Blas, but the winds did not let up.

And when they did, we had no place else to go.

"Diablo Beach" is a short hike from the marina. There are usually about 20+ ships anchored out there each day.

Since the COVID-19 fire began to smolder in China and South Korea, and then rage around the globe, we saw more restrictions on the movements of people being implemented by Panamanian authorities. We saw that these restrictions presented unprecedented challenges to those seeking to cross the canal.   

A view to the northeast looking out at the ships in the anchorage waiting to enter the Panama Canal

The canal of course was built as the portal to connect oceans. For most of the cruising sailors that gather at this unique location, especially at this time of year, the canal is more than a series of locks and lakes that connect the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans. Crossing the canal is the realization of a dream, a major achievement and the culmination of years of planning and perseverance.

As the Panama Canal officials began to impose more restrictive policies, implementation of the restrictions became more erratic and confusing. Boats were in limbo with on-again off-again restrictions on the canal crossings. We knew it was inevitable. The canal is now closed for all vessels less than 65 feet to reduce potential virus exposure among the personnel who were required to board and accompany all boats crossing the canal. Nobody knows when the canal will open again for the smaller boats.

Some boats, including those that were able to cross the canal before the closure, are now stuck either in the anchorage or in the marina on both sides of the canal. There are perhaps nearly 200 boats in the Shelter Bay Marina, the only marina on the Atlantic side of the canal. A great deal of uncertainty remains as restrictions change almost daily.

We have learned that the South Pacific, including various destinations such as the Galapagos, French Polynesia, Tonga, Fiji, New Zealand, and Australia and more, are closed to all vessels. Some boats are waiting and hoping for change, possibly in a couple of weeks. Others have accepted the new reality - this is not going to be the year for further voyages.

The boats that were able to depart for the South Pacific before travel restrictions went into effect, will now face significant uncertainties when they arrive anywhere in that vast expanse of the South Pacific. That uncertainty pretty much applies to anybody going virtually anywhere now by boat. The Caribbean, the Mediterranean, and beyond, are also closed.     

We live in a new Village

We had never really thought about the question – Where would you want to be during a pandemic?

We are quite happy with our choice to shelter in place here at the Shelter Bay Marina. The Marina is located on the former US military base, Fort Sherman, across the bay about 30 miles from the city of Colón. We are fairly secure now with multiple checkpoints for anybody coming in or going out of the facility. No vessels can enter the marina and must remain anchored outside until they have cleared through the authorities. All foreign vessels must abide by the 14-day quarantine. 

Map of our "playground". The marina is located near "Sherman".

Although the previous free, twice-daily trips to town for shopping provided by the marina ceased about a week ago, we now shop at the small, but well-stocked (no alcohol) mini-market. The restaurant continues to provide take-out delivery. We still have fairly extensive provisions onboard Leilani so we shop at the mini-market primarily for the “this and that”. For boats anchored outside the marina, the marina staff (the “riders on the storm”) deliver food and water orders daily by dinghies. The staff is now just a skeleton crew that remains onsite 24/7 (some with their families) at the marina. Many of the cruisers contribute to clean the bathrooms and public spaces, stock the store, and assist with completing food orders. We have become a village.      

The anchorage with some of the sailboats waiting in quarantine before being allowed to enter the marina

The "riders on the storm" deliver provisions to the boats in quarantine in the anchorage.

Our back yard is a tropical forest

There are a lot of things we are not doing.  While sailors can be quite an independent lot, they are often quite social too, and the restrictions are a bit of a challenge. We are not swimming. The pool is closed, and the crocodile we thought was only a myth has recently returned to prowl the marina waters. We aren’t playing Mexican Train dominos because you simply cannot “social distance” while playing dominos. We have no community Wednesday Happy Hour or Sunday pot luck for the same reason. Similarly, we don’t spend much time talking to others or walking the docks as we used to. 

It is a beautiful swimming pool...we miss it.

American Crocodile near our boat persuaded us from swimming.

There are a lot of things we are doing.  Most of the day we just hang out on Leilani, doing a variety of newly found boat and sewing chores, and we greet our neighbors from a distance in abbreviated conversations as they walk along the dock.

Latest boat project completed

Nearly every morning, after listening to the latest news provided on the Cruisers Net on the VHF radio, we grab our cameras and go for a walk. As voluntarily unemployed biologists, we delight in exploring this playground - our backyard. Shelter Bay Marina occupies a small part of waterfront of the former US Military Base, Fort Sherman, which was built within several thousand acres of tropical coastal forest. (The base was turned over to Panama, along with the management of the canal, in 1999). Although the forest has not been what could be remotely called “pristine” for perhaps a century or more, nature has begun to reclaim the areas no longer occupied by humans.

We have seen monkeys, Coati Mundis (Gatos Solo), Toucans and more along this path.

We often see monkeys along this path.

Path to Diablo Beach 

Its a jungle out there.

As in scenes of a Sci-Fi apocalypse movie, we walk paths among deteriorating ruins, some recognizable as concrete bunkers, and gun batteries. Other structures, obscured by the the jungle overgrowth, remain mysterious as to their former purposes.  

Gun Battery Mower hidden in the jungle

We hike each day, sometimes along different paths to a beach, a small stream, or the entrance to the National Park (closed). We are eager to get off the boat and to add to the list of critters we have sighted. The forest rewards us. Each day we KNOW we will see something unexpected.

Howler monkeys fly from one tree to another.

We do not tire of the sights and sounds. The male howler monkeys can be heard howling at least a half mile through the forest. Mischievous capuchin monkeys jump on branches to taunt and scare us away. We flush the skittish agouti (related to the species of “Roatan Rabbits” we saw in the Bay Island, Honduras) from its forest cover. Sloths astound us as they move from branch to branch in slow-motion forty feet above. The elusive and stunning Toucan thrills us before it flies off in a blur. The fearsome-looking American Crocodiles warm themselves at the shore of the marina or glide past our boat and remind us that we cannot swim. There are roughly 1000 species of birds in Panama and the symphony of bird calls rewards us with one more bird identification.  

Hope you enjoy a few of the photos we selected from the hundreds of pictures we have taken over the past few weeks.  

This howler monkey is actually just yawning, but you cannot believe how loud they howl.

Look closely. Can you see the baby?

Capuchin monkeys keep an eye on us. Sometimes they break tree limbs to scare us away.

Sometimes the capuchins don't seem to care that we are around.

We enjoy the monkeys.

A morning meeting perhaps

Agoutis are known to follow monkeys to pick up fruit they drop from the canopies.
They bury caches of seeds but then forget where they put them.  

The sloths have remarkable flexibility. 

Elusive toucans are a challenge to photograph.

This crocodile did not seem to mind being this close to the marina just to warm in the morning sun.

A Great Kiskadee perched atop a royal palm

With about 1,000 species of birds here, there will always be another "mystery" bird.

Join us for the next dispatch when: We cross the Panama Canal  

Before the extreme restrictions were in place several weeks ago, we accepted an invitation from two new sailor friends, Bo and Sybille, to assist as “line handlers” on crossing the canal aboard their boat “Sybo”. 

Even if it was on someone else’s boat, it was absolutely amazing and it lived up to all of our expectations. Come along for the ride.

The final locks at the entrance to Pacific Ocean

We Made It To Panama!

Merry Christmas from Leilani in Bocas del Toro, Panama.

We are currently swinging on the anchor on Leilani here in the south anchorage off Bocas del Toro, Panama. Merry Christmas to all!

Views of the busy anchorage in Bocas del Toro.  No such thing as a no wake zone here!

Apologies go to you dear readers for our less than timely posting of more current dispatches. It remains a challenge to post when reliable internet is simply not available. At best, we have erratic internet or limited connectivity using data from cell phones. As such, while it is not our preferred means of communicating, we simply post a short note on Facebook or send emails from time to time when we can. We just treated ourselves to a Panamanian cell sim card with a lot of data so we can now post this and maybe, a bit more.

Just a reminder and a gentle nudge, if you feel up to communicating, please do so via any way you wish, including email or leaving a comment here (go to the bottom of the page). We love to hear from you, and it gives us motivation to keep posting. We will reply.  

From Rio Dulce to the Bay Islands (Utila, Roatan and Guanaja), Honduras, to Providencia, Columbia, and on to Bocas del Toro, Panama

Much has happened since we last posted from Tucson, Arizona in August.

We very much enjoyed our nearly three months in the states as we journeyed from north and south borders, and east and west coasts to see family and friends in Chicago, Illinois, Green Bay, Wisconsin, Beaufort, North Carolina, Tucson, Arizona, and Southern California. We treasure those short visits more than we could have ever known.

We returned to Leilani waiting for us in Rio Dulce, Guatemala in late September with the plan to prepare once again to make our way to Panama. We had a list. We always have a list of necessary tasks and wishful thinking. We checked off most of those items including, completing the sewing of the cockpit cushions (Tracy has turned into an amazing seamstress), cleaning and waxing Leilani, re-provisioning our stores (including sorting some food now 2 years old from previous voyages).

The hardest part of making cockpit cushions - stuffing the foam into the newly made cover. 
This is definitely a one person job!

Finally, the cockpit is complete!

Far too many cleaning products for the job, but we used them all!

Just before Thanksgiving, we had tearful goodbyes, especially with our sailing buddies, Robyn and Tony on AlleycatToo, and Jim and Jane from “Jim and Jane’s Dock”. An ideal weather window was beginning to open, and as we learned last year, we needed to be prepared and not to miss a window this time of year. Unfortunately, that meant we would not be able to travel with AlleycatToo as Tony was preoccupied by dental appointments.

We will miss these two, Robyn and Tony.  We will meet again somewhere, sometime. 
We will always remember you with big smiles, as you were after the SA Springboks won the World Cup.

We connected with two boats from the Rio, Takamoana (Australians, Gary and Louise), and Saltair 3 (Canadians, Brad, Krista and Cole), to travel together to the Bay Islands of Honduras to stage for the passage of about 2 ½ days around the notorious banks off Honduras. This area has received a lot of attention, much of it is a very confusing mix of news of incidents of piracy, of “bad actors” acting badly, and just paranoia. Add to this drama, the weather can be challenging as boats round the “horn” of Honduras where winds and waves can conspire to make a miserable romp.

Three cats on the river.  Following behind SaltAir3 and Takamoana as we snake our way
  down the magical canyons of the Rio Dulce heading toward Livingston to check out, and then beyond.

Fortunately, we had good weather with a mix of sailing and motoring. Although tiring (we traded two hour watches at night), the passage across the banks was uneventful. Accompanied only by Takamoana, we diverted to the quaint island of Providencia for a few days rest and to wait for another favorable weather window. Saltair 3 did not stop but continued on to Colon, Panama to get in the queue to cross the canal. (Check out the family of three on Saltair 3 and their adventures on the YOUTUBE channel “Sailing Trio Travels”).

Utila was a colorful and interesting place. 
We would have loved to spend more time there.

Tracy looks to be having a very engaging conversation with a local West End, Roatan cat at happy hour. 
She actually was trying to convince the cat to eat cracker crumbs.

We spent one evening at the 'Hole in the Wall' Bar and Restaurant in Jonesville Bight. 
We were entertaining and entertained by the proprietors juvenile Capuchin monkey. 
He was devious and delightful! 

Who get's a chance to do this!

We enjoyed our short stay on Providencia. It is an unusual island for so many reasons, including its beauty as a iconic tropical isle, its rich history, and friendly locals.

We rented a golf cart for a day with our friends Louis and Gary on Takamoana (above)
and Maris and Linda on Amakya to check out the Island of Providencia.

Today was the day we heard the news that Tracy's sister passed away. 
Teri would have loved this place.  

A colorful mosaic depicting the unusual and facinating Providencia black land crabs that
make an annual migration from the highlands to the beaches to release their eggs.

We stopped for lunch at Roland's Bar and Restaurant.  We ordered their special - a whole fish cooked in foil packets on an open fire with their special sauce.  It took almost 1 1/2 hours, but was worth the wait!

The views made the wait tolerable!

A siesta was needed after lunch.  This hammock, unfortunately, was taken.

Overlooking the anchorage in Providencia Harbor viewed from Santa Catalina Island. 
Leilani is the catamaran furthest out.

As all sailors know, we are travelers of course, and it is inevitable that we have to say goodbye. Takamoana decided they would forego further travel in the Caribbean and, instead, head directly for Colon to stage for crossing the canal. A motivation for many boats to cross the canal is, as of January 1^st, 2020, the rates will double for small vessels. While the savings of about $800 to go now would be significant, we very much want to explore the enchanted isles of San Blas and surrounding area. We opted to continue on to Bocas del Toro as our first port in Panama.  

Our departure from Providencia was greeted with a pod of more than twenty dolphins. 
They stayed with us for about twenty minutes as new ones came in to join the fun.

One of them gave us quite a show - jumping several times in a row. 
We think it was a teenager showing off!

Once we rounded San Andreas, the seas died down and the wind disappeared. 
We chose to motorsail with only one engine in about 4 kts of wind, averaging 5.5 kts speed over ground!

   

Of Sailing and Travel

So that brings us here and now to another country, one of our nearly fabled destinations, Panama. We are quite pleased with having come so far when at times we doubted we would ever arrive. The delays and diversions clouded the view of this destination for quite some time.

We knew our choice of sailing and travel as a lifestyle that would entail hardships and sacrifices along with the many rewards. Among the sacrifices that have remained difficult for us to fully accept is the extended separation from friends and family, sometimes at the worst possible times.

Sunset at anchor in French Key Harbor, Roatan, Honduras.

We were given the full force of the pain of separation and losses on our passages from Guatemala. First we heard that Tracy’s sister, Teri, had died. Next we heard that our previous sailing buddy who shepherded us down the intracoastal waterway on Layla, Ernie Schroeder, had died. And then shortly after hearing that news we learned Bud’s aunt, his Mom’s sister, Elaine, had died. The weather then turned badly and we remained on Providencia. We grieved apart from friends and family.

Sunset at anchor in Providencia, Columbia.

We have gained some perspective from sailing and from travel these last several years. Among the lessons, Layla and Leilani taught us patience. Our boats taught us (often with their unrelenting demands) that we cannot control all things, and things don’t go as you plan. Our travels showed us that new lands, new people, new foods offer endless experiences to enrich our lives. Our travel also showed us how to embrace and marvel at this wondrous, diverse collection of beings on this planet. We are quite mistaken to exaggerate how much we differ rather than to celebrate how much we have in common. We appreciate each day and we appreciate all of you.

Locals often come through the anchorage in Bocas del Toro to fish. 
Here a group of boys must have been given the lancha for the day. 
Imagine what fun they had!

Catch us next time as we explore San Blas Archipelago and beyond in Panama.