The Steel Rat

August 24th to 28th

The road ends in Panama. Literally! There is no way to ride through the Darien Gap to Colombia in South America so we investigate options. There used to be a regular ferry service running between the two, but for reasons shrouded in mystery it no longer runs. This has lead to a thriving industry for privateers making the run on small boats ranging from oversize motor boats right up to large sail boats. Some have a nasty reputation - tales of drunken captains sleeping off hangovers through the voyage or worse still drug runners masquerading as tourist transport abound. If caught with drugs, all are assumed to be guilty and innocent fare paying tourists get to see the inside of Panamanian prisons along with the guilty crew. It pays to do research and unfortunately, this is not our strong suit!

Fortunately we do know other people who take the time to find out all the best information and so, we have heard of "The Stahlratte" which by sheer fluke is sailing just when we need it. It's one of the bigger vessels making the run and has an excellent reputation. It is also the boat taken by Anna and Ali and also Danny who I rode with in Bolivia so we relax and look forward to a safe passage.

It's a 4am start for a 5am pick up. The grumpiest man in the universe arrives at our hostel and his mood nose dives even further when he realises we have bikes. He had not been told. We had not been told that he has another five travelers to collect, plus all their gear. It's an extremely tight squeeze in a 4x4 pick up, along some immensely 3 dimensional roads.

We enter Kuna territory.

The Kuna are an indigenous tribe who are fiercely independent. They have remained separate from the rest of Panama maintaining their own lands, laws and culture. Passage is strictly controlled and passports must be shown and an entry fee paid to the official in a small hut at the roadside. To get to Stahlratte we take small Kuna piloted canoes through their river system and out to the open sea where we get our first glimpse of "Stahlratte" - The Steel Rat!

She's a 100 foot steel hulled, twin masted sail boat with an interesting history. Once a floating commune with a loose mission to sail round the world, once a sister ship to "Rainbow Warrior" and part of Greenpeace she is now captained by Ludwig a German who has been with her for 17 years. There are 20 passengers including us and the table is already set for a feast when we arrive!

We get the run down of the boat from Ludwig, a list of do's and don'ts, sign up for the roster to help out in the galley and the ship gets under way past tiny Kuna islands and their fishing canoes....

We are escorted through Kuna waters by a flotilla of bottle nosed dolphin - 'gay sharks' or 'pigs of the sea' according to Ludwig....

It's about a three hour trip under The Steel Rats chugging diesel engine to paradise.

We anchor up, pinch ourselves and gaze, open jawed at our new surroundings....

It's a bounty advert! Like stepping into one of those impossibly perfect holiday brochure pictures!

That island over there is our own personal little playground for the next day and a half! Just when you think life can't get any better, the bar full of ice cold cans floats out to meet us....

We snorkel amongst huge schools of iridescent fish and there are colourful parrot and angel fish. The coral is close to the surface and is a stark, vivid red. Someone spots a whale shark, we see an octopus maybe a metre long, all liquid limbs as it flees and hides in the dark places.

There are hundreds of these islands all dotted along the Caribbean Coast of Panama and it's easy to see why the Kuna seek to keep them private. Some are tiny - just golden mounds of sand, some have a single or maybe a pair of palm trees. Others are larger and have villages of densely packed palm thatched houses. There are schools and workshops where traditional clothes are weaved by hand. The villagers are really friendly, rowing out to our island to greet us and to invite us to visit their island village....

We see a canoe leave a neighboring island and I am amazed when they drop a line and instantly pull out a five pound fish! But that's nothing - for a minute later there is a struggle - one man in the water, one on the boat and suddenly they land what must be a 50 pound red snapper. Horns blare and a cheer goes up as the islanders celebrate their catch. We dispatch a dingy, negotiations take place and suddenly the fish is ours in exchange for $30 and a dozen cold beers. Ludwig sets about filleting the monster and it doesn't get any fresher than this....

The evening is spent on OUR island with a BBQ whilst the crew get to know each other....

Paradise Island by moonlight....

We spend the next day just hanging out with new friends - snorkeling, swinging on the boat's rope swing and swimming to other near-by islands. It's a pretty mixed bunch from Ireland, Sweden, The States, England, Switzerland and Canada; a couple travelling overland by car, three on motorbikes, us on bikes and the rest by bus. I had some reservations about being trapped on a small boat with a bunch of boring strangers, but everyone gets along amazingly well and it's a real laugh!

I'm on galley duty and learn how to crack open lobster. They are done in a delicious sweet papaya sauce, plus there is the fresh snapper! There are no complaints about the food!

Next morning we wake to the rhythmic sound of the engine and we are under way. It's sad to leave this gorgeous place behind, and it's a completely different atmosphere on the boat as we head out into the open seas. Crossings can be rough! The boat starts to rock and roll and we're glad to be on one of the biggest boats plying this route. It's much rougher on a smaller vessel and much more claustrophobic to boot. Sue takes a sickness tablet and disappears below deck for the rest of the day. I'm feeling fine until I try and use my laptop. 30 seconds later I'm feeding the fish over the side. I put the laptop away....

The crew prepare a stew, some eat... some just avoid the sight and smell of food at all costs. By all accounts it's a pretty calm crossing, but most of us landlubbers would disagree. The wind picks up a bit and the crew hoist the mainsail. It's a fine sight, but unfortunately the engine stays on as it's only a light breeze....

Going to sleep that night is a strange experience. The sound of the waves, the rhythmic swaying of the boat and the reassuring heart beat of the engine gently lull you down, down into deep slumber.

Interrupted when the engine suddenly stops!

It's 6am and people start to emerge from below decks into the sunlight. It slowly dawns on me that Central America is no more.... and that the coastline I am now looking at is South America! It's an odd way for us to cross a border; by ocean, and still thick with sleep it takes a moment for it all to sink in.

The harbour, the boats and then, beyond that - the skyline of the next leg of the tour! This is where we begin our adventure in South America - with the old city of Cartegena....

Thanks to Rachel Pook for the Kuna women and group photos and to Valerie for Stahratte's sails. Thanks to the rest of the crew for making it such a great voyage - good times!

Swimming With The Fishes

March 2nd to 25th

We finally leave Tela and ride along Honduras's Caribbean coast in the pouring rain. Bizarrely It's cold, wet and miserable and I am still not feeling 100% fit so the 95kms to La Ceiba is split into 2 rides as we find a stop midway.

It's a shame the weather is so atypically tropical as the scenery is stunning - the land a wide green shelf criss-crossed by rivers and sandwiched between the sea and the 2400 metre vertical walls of the Cordillera Nombre de Dios ('Name of God' mountains)....

We reach 'La Ceiba', allegedly Honduras's party town surrounding 'a lovely central plaza'. Neither claim is even remotely true and the most abiding memory of the place is the infernal noise of a thousand Toyota Corollas painted in the garish purple livery of municipal taxis blaring their horns at everything that moves. It's a deafening cacophony and every one is roaming the narrow streets desperately looking for a fare - competition is fierce. The merest accidental twitch of an eyebrow can result in screeching rubber and suicidal U-turns by optimistic drivers. La Ceiba is not a relaxing place.

An early start sees us heading 5 miles out of town to the docks for an 8 o'clock ferry. We're heading to 'Utila', an island set on the world's second largest coral reef that stretches the length of the Belizean and Honduran coastlines. Utila is more modest in size at just 13 by 8 kms, but it is dominated by dive schools boasting the cheapest SCUBA diving courses in the world!

In case there is any doubt, a nervous official vigorously shoos us away from the much more upmarket boat dock where a much classier looking ship heads for Utila's better looking sister island - 'Roatan'. I guess a couple of dirty bums on wheels would just lower the tone! We head towards an over size canal barge with a chugging diesel engine and load the bikes aboard glancing jealously at the finery of the 'Galaxy Wave' in the background.

No sooner do we set out when plastic bags are handed out. Initially confused, their purpose becomes clear as we leave the safety of the harbour and begin to lurch and dive violently over wave crests. I remember thinking 'Should have gone to Roatan' as the first bag gets used...

An hour later it's all over and we are met at the docks by a series of reps from the various dive schools. Sue takes a liking to 'Jessica' from 'Cross Creek Dive School' and we make a questionably decisive step by not even bothering to check out other places. It turns out to be a triumph of laziness over due diligence though, when everyone else from the ferry arrives at the same place after laboriously traipsing from school to school. It's always nice to benefit from other peoples hard work as their research confirms we picked a pretty good option. We just spent the time selecting the best accommodation before the crowds arrived and joining the afternoon boat for some free snorkeling.

We sign up for our PADI Open Water course – a 4 dive course that teaches you the basic skills - how all the equipment works, breathing from a buddies regulator in an emergency, clearing your mask underwater etc. There's some technical stuff about pressure, buoyancy and depth/time charts to make sure you don't suffer problems with high levels of nitrogen in the blood, but it's all pretty straight forward and 'Nouria' our Canadian instructor is brilliant. Cross Creek throw in a couple of free 'fun dives' at the end to sweeten the deal and you are qualified to hire kit at a resort and dive without an instructor once you pass....

At first it's a bizarre feeling trying to forget all those years of breathing though your nose - that just sucks up any sea water in your mask and is bad. Once you learn to breathe thorough your mouth, the next thing to avoid is the instinct to take a deep breath and hold it as your face submerges. Holding your breath is also bad!

It does take a while to get used to it all and to just trust the equipment as it all feels totally unnatural at first, but slowly... slowly you do learn to relaaaax and just breeeeethe naturally. The first dive is on a sand bank close to the surface to practice some skills and passes in a blur. It's only when you get back on the boat and try to unclench your jaw from around your 'regulator' that you realise what you have just done.

With each dive the experience gets easier... and more addictive. You start to see a different world....

And once you get more confident with setting your buoyancy, you start to avoid sinking like a stone or bobbing up to the surface like a popping cork. It begins to feel totally relaxing - like flying above a totally new planet. My dive buddies Rita, Me, Sue and Ebonee in 'hover mode'....

Now you get chance to explore a bit more as you gain control. Control is good as you don't want to get too close to this Lion fish which is seriously poisonous....

Actually they are an invader and hunt down smaller fish and will eat until they burst, so the instructors carry spears and nets and skewer them for the BBQ. Unfortunately this one got away. It's just a beautiful world under the water and we see huge schools of blue tangs, curious angelfish and giant tarpen. There are barracuda, eels hiding in nooks, massive crabs with pincers a foot long and a rare group of southern stargazers that bury themselves in the sand between corals and are hard to spot. There are thousands of brightly coloured 'parrot fish' that you can hear chomping noisily on lumps of coral and lobsters resting up during the day. This is an eagle ray – a picture of serenity, all lazy wing beats and easy movement....

Up close and personal with a porcupine fish....

One day out on the boat, we see a group of bottle nosed dolphins and quickly remove our tanks so we can swim amongst them without scaring them off. It's an amazing experience as they curiously swim over to play with us. Sue gets to see a leatherback turtle on her next dive for one of those lottery winning type days.

I say this is addictive and we sign up for an Advanced course. Now we go deep – to 30 metres to the Haliburton wreck. This was a cargo boat set for decommission when the dive schools bought it and sunk it on a sand bank. It's a spooky experience swimming through it's rusted, barnacle covered wheel house and Sue gets a 'Titanic' moment as we stand arms outstretched on the prow. We improve our buoyancy skills so we can swim through hoops and hover upside down – noses touching the bottom. We are expected to Navigate underwater and be able to find our boat at the end of a dive. A useful skill!

And now we get to dive at night – in pitch blackness!!

Using just torches, the underwater world again changes and looks very different. We see creatures of the night – spiders and lobsters on the hunt and colours are very different too. All that water has a filtering effect on sunlight. Reds are filtered out first, then yellows and then green – that's the reason underwater film always looks more blue than normal. If you were to cut yourself at depth, your blood would look green as there is no red light to make it red..... seriously it's very very weird. Under torch light, that red light reappears and the corals are much more vivid. Where they look brown and dirty by day – they are vibrant and alive by night.

Switching off our torches reveals bioluminescent plankton in the water. With all of us waving our arms about they are churned up and luminesce more brightly. You can see absolutely nothing in an absence of light so total it is rarely experienced and then like a galaxy of stars there are these flashes of blue all around us. It's a rare and totally beautiful experience.

We sign on for another 10 dives....

Life on the boat is very cool too. Our dive master Helen, Sue and I getting our gear sorted....

As is life on land – a typical evening of hammocking with new friends and a few cold ones....

We are starting to seriously consider a dive master course, and another couple of months here, until we hear of the final challenge awaiting those that wish to qualify. Two of our dive masters finish their courses and must now pass the dreaded 'Snorkel Test'. Evil instructors Kevin, Nico, Nouria(our instructor) and Pete administer the test using rum and fizzy fizzy cola. Bottles must be filled to the brim and then emptied in one go through the snorkel.... The second trial sees masks filled up with beer and a demonstration must be performed of the best technique of how to clear it underwater.

This is the 'before' photo – the 'after' is a complete mess....

In all we spend 3 weeks on Utila where we planned to stay just 5 days. Apparently we escaped early. Pete (above) came for a month and is still here after 6 with no plans to leave – Joe came for a week to see his sister Nouria and 3 months later is a qualified dive master....

But we had to leave – this is supposed to be a cycle tour. It's all depressingly familiar, but now we have visa problems again and have just 2 weeks to ride across Honduras and see the whole of Nicaragua and get to the Costa Rican border. Me thinks that's not enough, but we'll deal with that later...

Adios Tierra Del Fuego

Wednesday 19th
Glad I got some cash yesterday as the only bank in Porvenir only accepts mastercard. Not too great for a guy packing Visa. And I am going down with some kind of lurgy so need a proper bed in the cheapest hostel available. Hotel Central charges a fortune at 13000 pesos (about 13 quid), but by agreeing to not sign in I manage to knock this down to 7000 - a bargain in my condition. Including breakfast of course.

Ask 3 people here and get 3 different times for the ferry. 9am is the distinct outsider, with midday and 1pm joint favourites, so I decide a leisurely breakfast is in order before cycling the 5kms at 11am.

Met Stephan and Eva, a German couple staying in the same hotel and touring on some heavily modified ancient BMW Boxer motorbikes with about 450,000 km between them. They agree to keep me alive by feeding me for the entire boat crossing as my money is now gone. And a couple of Spanish cyclists are also heading in the same direction.

We are joined by a school of about 12 dolphins (I think dolphins go to school?) for a couple of miles which is just great as they are literally 5m away. The crossing is smooth as well as for once the wind has died. Apparently the crossing is often cancelled, or at least more of an ordeal for a landlubber like me as the sea boils and swells.

In Punta Arenas the campsite hostel is full, the next place is closed as the owner has just died, so I end up by coincidence sharing accomodation with Stephan and Eva again.

Meeting up with the Spanish cyclists, we clean out an eat as much as you like restaurant for the next 3 hours. These places should ban people on bikes, I think I eat 8 courses and all for about 4 quid. The best way to beat the lurgy is to bombard it with grub.....