When I wake up and look outside I realise that this morning is not the morning for going up the mast as it is too cloudy. We decide instead to explore another of the islands (and we need some fresh stuff too) and choose Nargana, as this is supposed to have some basic shops, a bank and a prison. We also hope to find some internet access.
It is a pleasant sail over and we anchor just outside the town. This island is one that has supposedly abandoned its traditional ways.
Photos: Views of the village on Nargana from the bay
The people who live here wear western clothes but walking around the island, this seems to be the only concession to westernisation that we can see apart from the many TV aerials). It’s true, there are a few concrete built houses and the bank is definitely modern but most of the houses seem to be traditionally built of wood with thatched roofs.
Photo: Thatched houses, all neat and tidy with hedging
There are no roads, just sandy paths, but then there are no cars as the island is too small. It is clean and well ordered but finding the shops is difficult although we do eventually find one and buy some tomatoes and onions.
Photos: There are supposed to be about 8 grocery stores but we only find this one
Walking back the way we came, Mike decides he wants to sample the local amber nectar and leads us into what he thinks is a bar but is actually a wholesale distributer (or their equivalent). A brief discussion takes place (Mike’s amounts to “two beers please” in Spanish; the lady’s is much longer and unintelligible and accompanied by a big grin) and we are shown outside the building, along a few yards, up the stairs and into an office where the man in the office seems to want to know how many crates of beer we want. When it is obvious that we are at cross purposes, we smile and leave but a little local guy catches up with Mike and seems to imply that he knows where we can buy beers. He accompanies us back the way we came and we enter a covered terrace on one of the little thatched huts. Chairs are found and cold beers appear. I’m obviously not going to get any Sauvignon Blanc here!
Our little escort, Mila, is very chatty with the barmaid,(or are we in his house having beers out of his fridge – difficult to tell) although we can’t understand a word. Mike and Jim include him in their rounds of beer and he is very happy. There is a TV on with obviously some sort of Panamanian soap opera playing, with the usual Hispanic over-acting. The reception is terribly grainy but it’s obvious that someone is about to be murdered in their hospital bed. Their version of Eastenders I presume!
Mila asks me how old I am and Mike is impressed that I am able to understand what he is asking. So am I, although my reply has to be given using my hands and fingers. They ooh and aah and look at each other nodding and smiling. I don’t know if they are impressed, horrified or amused. The barmaid then shows me with her hands that she is 48 and we smile at each other. Sisterhood!
When it comes to paying the bill we are surprised and pleased to find that we have been charged exactly the same as a local guy who bought six beers. This is unusual as tourists in the rest of the Caribbean get charged more than the locals for most things. Mike offers her more money than she asks for and she attempts to give it back, not realising we are leaving her a tip. Another nice surprise. Mike and Jim are so impressed with their beers that they go back to the wholesale place and buy a case of 24 for $14 – they are two happy bunnies! While I wait for them I watch a load of kids cramming into a small sail boat and set off, shrieking and laughing, while their parents watch from the bridge. I have no idea what is going on.
Photo: How many children will fit in this boat before it sinks!?
On our way back to the dinghy, I spot two women in traditional costumes and approach them for a photograph but they are horrified and turn away, waving their hands at me. I respect their wishes and put my camera away.
We don’t manage to find any internet access either here or in the bay where we have moored, just a sign on a building announcing its arrival in March 2010.
Back on Jeannius we get the anchor up and head for Lemmon Cay, a group of tiny inhabited islands. Finding our way through the reef is a little tricky and we are glad that their is a WARC yacht already in and they point the way.
Brown Eyed Girl is already in and we go over to say hello and end up staying for a drink or two. While there, a couple of dug out canoes arrive, one with women and children selling molas, and one with men and boys selling fish. Tom buys a beaded necklace and Jared chats away with the locals as he is fluent in Spanish. How useful is he to have around! The local guys ask if they can have some diesel for their engines and Joe gives them some – it must be very difficult for them to get it given the remoteness of the islands.
What’s nice about the people here is that they do not appear to be grasping in any way. Sure, they want to make a living out of the visitors who arrive in their big shiny boats, but they want to make an honest buck not fleece you. It’s a very welcome change
I decide to make spaghetti bolognaise again with the soya mince but when I open the Ziploc bag that contains the two open packets of chunks and mince, we find it crawling with little bugs. Luckily they seem to be in the packet of chunks not the mince so the chunks get chucked and I pour boiling water over the mince. We have spaghetti bolognaise again with the soya mince (maybe with added protein!) and watch two episodes of “Gimme Gimme Gimme” before bed.
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