The Trials of Sailing: Delays, Detours, and Discoveries in Panama

“Sailing isn’t just about reaching a destination—it’s about embracing the detours, laughing at the delays, and discovering the unexpected treasures along the way.”

The Never-Ending Struggle for Boat Parts

The last few days have been eventful here in Panama! We are facing dilemmas regarding boat parts as the nightmare of getting work done in foreign countries continues. We have parts that have been shipped and lost in transit, parts delayed due to a week of partying during the five days of Carnival, and parts sitting in customs, awaiting the slow process of being identified and taxed. In addition, we are waiting for our long-term visas for French Polynesia.

The Visa Waiting Game

We plan on being in French Polynesia for two sailing seasons. To apply for the visa, we had to submit a lengthy pile of paperwork and attend an interview with the French Embassy, which required a four-hour round-trip drive from our marina. We have just learned there is a two-week delay in processing. It has already been a month, and now we are looking at another two weeks.

The Search for Rigging Cable

The cable for our rigging, which we are replacing ourselves, is nowhere to be found in Panama. Two days ago, we finally located the wire in Linton Bay, which is a four-hour drive one way on the Atlantic side of Panama. In addition to our other challenges, we rented a car, booked a hotel near the marine store in Linton, and set off on an expedition to obtain the hundred pounds of rigging cable.

A Book Launch and a Change of Plans

While all of this was happening, my new book, The Seven, launched on March 6th. Ironically, this was the same day we were supposed to get our visas, but instead, it became the day we traveled to the other side of Panama to retrieve our much-needed cable. The good news? It made the four-hour round-trip drive into the city seem short.

A Hostel Check-In Like No Other

Talk about a mishmash of life being thrown together to complicate our already complicated lives. We packed our overnight bags and headed to a hostel we had reserved online, just a few miles from Linton Bay. Dan didn’t want to do the trip in one day as traffic in Panama is exhausting, even for short distances.

Upon arrival, the boy checking us in didn’t speak English. He simply asked how much we were paying. We handed him the $47 the internet said we owed, and he handed us the key—no names, no license plate, no ID. It was very informal.

The room was clean and nice, so we set off to locate the marina and the store holding our wire. They were expecting us the next morning. The marina was stunning, bathed in the glow of the setting sun. I took it as a good omen. I really need to stop kidding myself—life is never that easy.

The Cash Conundrum

Since it was dinnertime, we decided to eat at the marina restaurant. The hostel had no food or restaurant. As we walked up the steps, our mouths watered at the menu. We couldn’t wait for a cold beer and a delicious meal after an exhausting day. Then, we saw the sign: No Cards Accepted—Cash Only.

“It’s okay,” Dan said with a smile. “We passed an ATM on the way in.”

However, when we got to the machine, a worker stopped us. “No cash! All out!”

We were in the middle of nowhere, and it was now almost dark. I was starving. We knew the small local restaurants miles away would likely only take cash as well. Our only option was to find another ATM. Using GPS, we located one—twenty minutes away at a grocery store.

I had a bad feeling as Google Maps directed us up a mountain and into the middle of nowhere. As we climbed higher, the roads got worse, the night got darker, and 30 minutes later, we arrived at the GPS point. There was no civilization in sight. “Crap,” I muttered. “This sucks.”

Our only option was to head back to the last town we passed—Portobello, another 30-minute drive down a winding road.

A Serendipitous Return

Flashback to our Portobello experience: We had spent two nights anchored there en route to Shelter Bay, where we prepped to cross the Panama Canal. It’s a historic town, once a key Spanish gold shipping port, with cool forts and a rich history.

We had read reviews about an incredible Italian restaurant with the best pizza and pasta, run by a young Italian chef. When we dinghied there months ago, the restaurant was closed for repairs. However, we met the owner, who told us, “Come back one day and eat here. You will love it.”

At the time, I assured him we would, but in my mind, I knew we’d never return. Our circumnavigation only moves forward. Yet here we were.

When we finally reached Portobello, the streets were chaos. Carnival celebrations were still in full swing. We navigated through the throngs of people, praying the town’s only ATM still had cash. I waited in the car while Dan retrieved the money. When he returned, he grinned and held up a wad of cash. “GOT IT!”

“I have an idea,” I told him. “Find a parking spot.”

We parked and walked to the waterfront. There, tucked beside a small dock, was the Italian restaurant—Casa Bella. The owner recognized us immediately.

“You’re back!” he said, delighted.

This time, we finally tasted his cooking. Sweet chilled red wine, gourmet thin-crust pizza, the most incredible pasta, and a freshly made Nutella and rum crepe for dessert. It was a feast and worth every penny. We left with full tummies and happy hearts.

A Wild Night and a Noisy Morning

Back at the hostel, the night was anything but peaceful. Wanderers and hippies partied, a rooster inexplicably crowed at 10 p.m., dogs barked, and strange jungle noises filled the air. Then, the rain began as a normal rainshower, ramped up to a downpour, and the finale was a deluge. I feared for my life. I had never experienced such a cacophony. I’m guessing we were experiencing what it must be like to live inside a snare drum during a solo.

I hid in the bathroom while Dan rolled over and ignored it. Sleep was out of the question, so I did my morning workout in the bathroom. At least the night wasn’t entirely wasted.

A Morning in the Canopy

The sun did rise, the rain departed, and by 7:00 AM we were packed up. We had our traditional morning Yerba Mate tea brewed with mint and ginger. We drink it every morning, even when we travel. The brew is good for the soul. While we have had our tea on balconies in Africa, sitting on the edge of a cliff in the Canaries, and many exotic places, this morning’s tea was pretty special.

We found a tree house on the hostel property, and we climbed up the less than safe stairs and found chairs on a platform, high in the tree. A river flowed beside us and the sounds coming from the rainforest were quite incredible. We heard the howler monkeys’ eerie cries reverberating through the treetops. There was a cacophony of tropical bird voices calling from under the canopy. The river bubbled past adding the baseline. Now and again, a quiet rain shower would pass by over, adding the soporific sound of the gentle rainfall. We sipped our tea and felt blessed to be there.

Mission Accomplished

Our morning tranquility didn’t last long. We checked out and drove three miles to the marine store in Linton Bay. The kind owners were ready for us. Together, we lifted and measured heavy spools of rigging wire—hundreds of feet worth. The cost was gut-wrenching, nearly $1,000 more than in the U.S., but getting it to Panama? Worth every penny.

We made the four-hour drive back, enjoying stunning countryside views we would have never seen by boat. One task checked off our list, so many more to go.

The Next Big Challenge: Crossing the Pacific

Now, we wait. We are captives to boat parts and repairs before crossing the Pacific. This will be our longest time at sea – 30 to 42 days for most sailors. Storms won’t be our biggest concern; the Pacific is known for stretches of no wind, where the heat is intense and the boat drifts aimlessly.

We know a solo sailor who lost his mast mid-crossing. He rigged a small sail, but it will take months for him to make it across. Merchant ships and fellow sailors are delivering food and water to him.

When we think we have it rough, we remind ourselves: We are still ALIVE, still IN LOVE, and still AFLOAT. There are our three most important pre-requisites for this journey.

We will get around this world eventually.

A Final Note

Please check out THE SEVEN! If you like intriguing stories, nail-biting drama, and cliffhangers, you will love this book. It may be fictional, but it takes you to real places with factual information about locations, occupations, and of course, horses. Check it out on the link or go to www.alisongieshen.com. There you can read the Stories Behind the Stories of each character and why I was inspired to write about them.

Thanks for following and your support. You are the wind beneath our sails. To see more pictures and snippets about our adventures follow us on Facebook: Sailmates and Instagram: Sailing_Equus.

Fair Winds,

Alison and Dan

S/V Equus