To my faithful subscribers and followers of DistantSeas, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that my last post was 10 months ago. I’m sorry that it was right before an 1100nm passage from The Bahamas to Panama; and I’m sorry that I never let you know that we arrived safely in Bocas del Toro, Panama after 8 days at sea. The truth is that not long after we arrived in Panama things started to fall apart, and I wasn’t sure if we were going to continue on to the south pacific as planned. You may wonder, what fell apart? Well, For a variety of reasons, Alana, one of our crew members, and someone I’d become close with had to go home. This sucked most of the wind out of our sails, and the rest was sucked out by evolving covid requirements in French Polynesia. This paired with some maintenance items on the boat I felt should be addressed before sailing 4,000 nautical miles across the Pacific was enough to convince myself that this wasn’t my year.
After the rest of the Raindancer crew went off in different directions to conquer the world, I was left onboard to sulk in solitude. I had a rough month after everyone left, I had been riding a tsunami size emotional wave at its crest for about 4 months, things were great up there, and I had a clear view of what I wanted. Then I fell hard into the trough and my inner compass starting spinning. Every option was back on the table, and for a split second I even considered selling the boat. I decided to leave the boat at Linton Bay Marina on the Caribbean side of Panama and flew home to see my mom for a month in attempt to gain some clarity. I saw old friends, worked on yachts, and tried to weigh my options for the future. It was the first time I’d left the boat since I began calling it home and I was worried about how it would fair in the unforgiving Panama weather. While I was home I began searching for new crew. A 25 year old German guy named Simon wouldn’t stop messaging me even after I failed to respond to his messages. He then mentioned that he was currently at Linton Bay marina and that caught my attention. I decided to have a video chat with him and immediately felt a good energy around this young lad. After about 5 minutes I knew he was someone I could trust. I decided to give him the combination to the lock on the companionway door and let him stay on the boat for a few nights in exchange for checking on it and doing some small tasks. While staying aboard Raindancer Simon found another boat bound for the San Blas Islands and Colombia.
Even though I failed to regain my drive, I knew I had to go back to the boat before the Panama weather got the best of it. I had invited Simon to meet me back in Linton Bay Marina and sail back to Bocas del Toro where we would spend the summer at Red Frog Marina. I had friends in Bocas, there was surf, an awesome marina in the jungle, hardware stores, and a vibrant social scene. The plan was to work on the boat, have fun, and try to regain some of that mojo that previously fueled my burning desire to cross the pacific. We did just that. We made lots of friends in the marina and in hostels nearby. We learned to surf, played volleyball every afternoon, and occasionally went spearfishing for our dinner. Lots of progress was made on the boat including stripping and sanding all the exterior varnish, replacing the standing rigging, patching up water tanks, polishing all the stainless, replacing the lifelines, rebedding stanchions, fixing leaks, servicing winches, and more. I had regained my passion and met an incredible friend (Simon) in the process. What I had trouble understanding just a few months before now all made sense, and I felt great about my decision to stay in Panama and postpone the voyage to the South Pacific. Once again, we had an incredible run in Bocas del Toro, but it was time to go back to North America for a little while to tie up some loose ends and work for a bit. Simon went off to Guatemala, and then home to Germany to save up some money. The plan was for him to return to the boat in January for the Pacific crossing. Meanwhile, Alana had asked if I wanted to join her on a road trip from Ontario back out to Vancouver Island where she lives and I couldn’t turn that down. I hopped on an airplane to Toronto and once again left Raindancer in Panama, this time much better prepared and with friends periodically checking on her.
A lot happened during the next few months and rather than explaining it all in detail I’d prefer to list them in chronological order:
- Road Trip Across North America
- Sailing an Aloha 27 in Desolation Sound, British Colombia
- Lived in Vancouver Island with Alana for almost a month
- Delivered my friend Carl’s Grainger 48 Catamaran from North Carolina to Florida
- Spent time with my mom and family in Florida
- Worked on a 170ft Motor Yacht as temporary First Officer
- Went back to Bocas del Toro with Alana
- Installed a new water maker, electric toilet, fixed fuel injection pump leak on the diesel engine, etc…
- Sailed to Shelter Bay Marina in Colon, Panama (Entrance to Panama Canal) and got hauled out
- Flew home for the holidays to see family
Believe me when I say, each of these are worthy of their own posts, but in the spirit of focusing on the present, let’s set the stage for right now. I’ve just arrived back to Shelter Bay Marina. I’m alone on the boat for a week and a half doing projects on the hard until Simon and Amy show up. Then a few days later Alana will show up. By the end of January we’ll be going through the Panama Canal and leaving the Americas behind bound for the Galapagos. The time feels like now.
Thank you for sharing your story! Look forward to following your journey. Safe travels and enjoy!
Ahoy there nephew! I am so happy to have spent time with you and our family.. Excellent blog post.. keep it coming. I love watching your journey enfold. Give my best regards to Alana.
Love you.
Amazing photos, thanks for sharing! Looking forward to hearing about your upcoming journey.
Also noticed your Zoom Zoom Zoom crew shirt…I did temp work on there as well a long time ago lol!
Fair winds 🙂