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To our USA readers, Happy Thanksgiving!  And to everyone else, Happy Preparations for the December Holidays!   We are still in Bocas and looking forward to a Thanksgiving luncheon hosted at the Calypso Cantina, to which we are contributing the famous Stocker “Sweet potatoes and peaches” and some homemade brownies.  Yes, thanks to Randall’s perseverance in searching the two Bocas hardware stores, he managed to find all the pieces to replace the low pressure valve that was leaking in our propane system so we can use our stove again.  Hurray!    

Overall, the last 10 days have been very wet but it looks as though today may be a bit brighter so that will be good.  It is tricky to take food to shore in the pouring rain. Actually the rain has generally been fairly cooperative for us, for which we are grateful.  We have kept our water tanks full and been able to wash and rinse various things that do not fit in a washing machine or sink, such as the cockpit cushions.  On the other hand, the  highlights of the period, the day of the Bocas del Toro parade, the day we went to Changuinola, and the day during which we cruised around in the Policia National launch, were dry and in the latter case, positively sunny.  But more of that interesting experience later…

Monday (Nov 16) was Bocas del Toro Day, a holiday within the province and the day of a huge parade in Bocas.  The President of Panama was due to open the festivities and a suitably grand viewing stand had been erected on the main street but he was not well that day and some other official, appropriately resplendent in his military uniform, received the bows and honors from the paraders.  Unlike the final of the softball tournament in the Kuna Yala which was held earlier than reported, the parade started about 90 minutes later than the intended 10 as commencement.  This gave us plenty of time to enjoy watching the marching bands congregate and practice all around town including along the parade route.  In fact, it was not obvious to us how they would all get started and going fast enough without getting in each others’ way but we were foolishly thinking in terms of the rousing pace a which parades are held in the USA instead of considering the positively languid shuffle of the Junkanoo we had seen in the Bahamas.

The first part of the parade was mostly non-musical participants such as representatives of all the emergency services and military groups (including an armed, uniformed, and helmeted squad doing a goose-step march which appeared exhausting and rather ominous), and a variety of cheerful workers from assorted government services.  They were followed by marching bands from (we presume) every secondary school in the province, interspersed with a few gymnastics teams who had plenty of time to run around in intricate patterns, form human-pyramids, and flip-flap around in suitably exhausting exercises.  There must have been about 30 bands which principally consisted of numerous drums of all sizes most of which were played with enthusiastic vigor.  Most bands had a few tall girls playing xylophones and a few larger schools also had groups of bugles but the overwhelming influence was the loud and skillful rhythms of the drums.  There were typically various girls twirling batons or carrying the larger drum-majors’ batons and like the musicians they were clad in smart uniforms.  Whoever sells women’s boots in Panama must have a nice business because all the marching girls had knee-length boots, typically white with sturdy heels and a slight impression that they used to belong to go-go dancers!  In addition, each school had students carrying their banner, one or two girls in traditional Panamanian costume (lacy white blouses and huge, twirled skirts), and several teachers (we presume) marching along in smart, matching outfits. 

Given the heat, the longevity of the parade, the vitality of most participants, and their light-weight but often dark-colored uniforms, there were numerous assistants running around with bottles of water and Gatorade.  The crowd (including us) was also taking advantage of numerous feeding and drinking opportunities around the parade route and as the day wore on the majority of viewers switched from one side of the street to the other to stay in the shade.  The parade moved so slowly that it was easy to cross between bands and we took advantage of this to explore various perspectives on the event although we declined the offer to share a roof-top with Dillon and Darion (from the Cantina) on the grounds that the nearby collapsed section of roof did not inspire overwhelming confidence.

We saw the modest display of fireworks, which we gather from the subsequent cessation of the sound of drumming, was at the end of the parade…at 7 pm!  Thus, some of the poor students had been waiting around and marching for over 8 hours.  We could not boast of such stamina and had returned to the boat in mid-afternoon having seen the passing of the particular band that we had watched warming-up by the café where we seated during the long wait for the parade to start.  The atmosphere for Bocas Day was happy and busy with many vendors taking advantage of the assembled crowds, and there were extra ferries running back and forth to the mainland for several days to get everyone home.  The town had been spruced up for the expected visit of the President, the parade, and the beginning of the main tourist season (December-May) so everything seemed a bit smarter and more lively than when we left in September.

The following day, we were supposed to go to Changuinola to get the monthly signature on our visas but we had been told that the Immigration Office would be closed for “Changuinola Day” so we postponed the trip until Wednesday.  We were grateful for the excuse as there was torrential rain most of Tuesday and strong winds that night. Consequently, our ferry ride to Almirante was rough as some 2 – 3 ft waves had been kicked up but we were lucky enough to get some of the more stable seats in the back of the 20ft long launch.  Even though we were a day late, our visas were renewed without question by the friendly and cheerful officials and we picked up some useful grocery supplies in the large supermarkets before returning to Bocas.  The only slight cause for concern of the trip was being told by another cruiser that on his way to catch the Almirante ferry, he had seen a 41 ft Morgan that had dragged anchor all the way across the channel from our anchorage.  We had not been aware of another boat like ours there so we hastily and nervously asked what color it was.  Luckily for us it was blue and white and another cruiser said it had been next to his boat at the other end of the anchorage from us.  Still, it was a relief to see Tregoning exactly where we had left her when we got back.

Interestingly, the other Morgan was now anchored just upwind of us (which did not bode well if they dragged again) so as we returned to Tregoning, we stopped to introduce ourselves.  They were a friendly trio (parents and adult son) who had slept through the night and been very surprised to wake up a couple of miles away from where they had gone to sleep.  After we talked to them, they went to the marina to refuel and we then watched them re-anchor, thankfully downwind of us this time.  They had told us that they too were planning to go through the Canal and eventually around the world but we suspect that they still had much to learn about anchoring.  Their anchor looked small for the boat, they only appeared to let out enough chain to reach the bottom (ideally one has a 7:1 scope where one lets out a length of rode – chain and rope – that is seven times the water depth), and they did not set the anchor (where one reverses the boat hard while looking and feeling to see that the anchor has dug into the bottom.  Sure enough, the next morning we awoke to see their boat several 100yd away from where they had started (luckily no one else was in the way) having dragged again.  They repositioned again before most other people were awake and left later that morning so we hope that they get the anchoring figured out.    As someone else pointed out, we all drag at some point and there are only three kinds of cruisers: those who have dragged and admit it; those who have yet to drag (being beginners); and those who lie about it.  (Of course, running aground and other embarrassing but almost inevitable things can be substituted for dragging in that expression.) But the technique and record of this particular boat was not encouraging so we hope that they do not come to, or cause, harm elsewhere.

From Thursday to Tuesday we kept ourselves busy with boat chores, internet matters, and getting ready for our trip to the USA in December (involving numerous lists, things to order, arrangements to make, etc.)  And other than the Thanksgiving break we were quite happy to keep other excitements to a minimum while we continued with such activities until our departure for Panamá City around December 6^th.

But yesterday (Wednesday) turned out to be a dramatic variation from that reassuring routine and was a classic lesson that “complacency is the patron of dishonesty” (I just made that up but I’m sure someone famous has previously expressed it more profoundly).  At 6 am, after lying in bed for a few minutes discussing the day’s plans, I was sickened to hear Randall shout from the cockpit that the dinghy was missing.  It had been an exceptionally quiet night and it did not take long to establish that the dinghy had been stolen (it was clearly unclipped and untied) rather than having broken loose.  Yes, after nearly four months in Bocas we had grown complacent and no longer locked the dinghy to Tregoning or raised it out of the water on the spare halyard.  Since we sleep in the stern cabin right next to where the dinghy is tied up we usually hear the waves slapping against it or would expect to hear anyone messing with it.  But on this calm night some professional thieves must have come in and silently extracted it while we slept.

Oh, how stupid and frustrated we felt having been so careful about keeping our companionway latched at night after the attack on Navy Blue but having been lulled into thinking that Bocas was currently immune from crime targeted at cruisers.  Anyway, we typed up a page with all the details about the dinghy and motor, put out an alert on the VHF radio, and telephoned the local branch of the Policia National.  They asked us to come in to make a report so we phoned for a water taxi and thus began our 8 hours of interaction with the police.  When we arrived at the police station Corporal Sanchez was ready to help us.  He is the local Policia de Turismo, one of a group of specific officers throughout Panama who wear identifying arm-bands and who speak good English.  After providing him with an initial report and showing pictures of the dinghy and motor from the West Marine catalog, the officers took us out in their launch to see Tregoning and to look around the nearby Bocas and Carenero (adjacent island) shores.  We were then driven over to the police office near the airport where the investigators took more detailed, sworn, reports.  We also reported the theft on the morning VHF network and a couple of people kindly offered to loan us dinghies.  We were also told that in 99% of such cases the motor was never seen again (quickly taken to the mainland, repainted, and sold cheap) but the dinghy usually showed up as they are too easily identified as a gringo boat and are more conspicuous to move around.

At the investigators’ office we were initially left with a man who did not speak much English and we did our best to explain the details in our poor Spanish but soon Senor Fernando Hooker arrived and he very helpfully provided the translations for us.  He was from the District Attorney’s office representing Bocas del Toro and another province but fortunately for us he was in his office in Bocas that day.  I gave a supporting report to an office assistant who actually spoke quite good English and with a bit of help I was able to read the Spanish report much better than I could follow what was spoken.  It is a little odd to not understand all the office discussion around you but Fernando was quite entertaining and we were happy with the reports.  We were eventually told to return to Tregoning to wait until the investigators could come by in the afternoon to take photos. 

We took a water taxi back from near the police station and our driver started telling us in Spanish that he had found a “gringo dinghy” floating around near the anchorage last night on his return from a late game of dominoes.  He pointed to another inflatable by the shore to explain what he meant and our hopes soared.  We asked him to show it to us and he took us to a primitive, water-side house at the head of the small bay next to the marina.  Sure enough, it was our dinghy without the motor or anything else and with one of the three main tube sections deflated.   The children at the house had to retrieve the toys that they had already put into their new plaything and reluctantly handed a line to the taxi driver who then towed it back to the marina for us.  We got his name, thanked him heartily, and provided a very generous tip.

The deflated tube had been badly slashed, including cutting partly into one of the handles so it is not obvious that it can be repaired and, curiously, there were two large smears of blood on the floor.  Based on other stories from the marina staff, we speculate that after removing the motor and other items, the thieves tried to sink the dinghy but someone cut themselves when the knife slashed into the handle and they gave up the effort in disgust to leaving the dinghy floating in the bay.  We wonder if the police will check-up on anyone who went to the hospital with a knife wound that morning or if anything more sinister happened during the heist.

Anyway, we called the police again and they soon came out in the launch to look at the dinghy (and express much interest in the blood) and take us back to the investigators’ office to file an additional report.  We then accompanied the two investigators in the police launch to talk to the native Indian woman at the house were our dinghy was found.  We have no idea how that discussion went, she did not seem happy about the questions and we doubt that standard Spanish was used much of the time.  They also took photos of Tregoning and the dinghy and kept a bit of old duct tape (for possible fingerprints) that someone (probably at the house) had tried to put over the slash in the tube.  All in all we were impressed with the friendly attitude and helpful efforts of the police but realize that it is very unlikely that we will see our motor or other items (gas tank, oars, life-jackets, etc) again.  Chatting with folk at the marina we understand that local residents do not usually get as much help from the police with domestic burglaries so we appreciate that our experience is not necessarily typical.

We will leave the dinghy at the marina while we are in the USA and will ask a resident cruiser who is supposedly skilled at such work (but who is currently away) to try to repair it.  In the meantime, our insurance agent was very helpful on the phone so we will at least file a claim for the motor and other items.  A fellow cruiser, Stig, very generously has loaned us his small dinghy and outboard which will certainly make life much easier (and cheaper) than having to rely on water taxis.  Last night, in a state of high paranoia we raised his dinghy out of the on the spare halyard, locked the motor, and swathed them both, and the toe-rail on Tregoning, in chain so that we should hear if anyone disturbed the dinghy or motor.  Stig’s generosity is very helpful as we will probably wait to get a new outboard when we have taken Tregoning to Panamá City. We will just have to resolve to be as conscientious about security each night when we have our own dinghy and outboard again.  Oh, the joys and perils of traveling…