On the Reiteralm

For hours I feel like I'm slaloming on the Reiteralm, and want to reach the finish as quickly as possible, through the maze of gates down the slope. As the first, of course! Those were the days when I milled over the slopes on my skis. No slope was too steep, and when carving, the extremes were just good enough for me. Skiing was and is a passion of mine, much like sailing.

Arrived in Panama

So I feel transported back to the time when the slopes were still white and the fir trees were thick with snow. But the ground is, at the moment, not snow-white and the goalposts are not plastic either, but tree trunks made of wood, planks with nails, and countless garbage made of plastic and polyurethane. The ground is a mushy wobbly brown broth. We are at the height of Barranquilla and the river spews vast amounts of trash into the sea. I try to avoid the large chunks, especially those with nails. Unfortunately, some float just below the surface of the water, making them hard to spot. We've already kept 10 nautical miles clear of the coast and the current is moving along the coast at two knots. Nevertheless, we still encounter this garbage out here. We are both sad and disappointed, but the activism in Europe, for the climate neutral emission, here in South America against the plastic waste would be much more appropriate. We drive another five miles further out, as we have no possibility at all to see flotsam lying in front of us during the night. It gets much better, at least with the flotsam. But the northeast wind falls asleep much earlier than predicted, and also the announced calm stays away, a southwest wind with 20 knots sets in. So right on the nose. We can't keep the set course anymore and run off to the west, with three knots. It becomes a long night. Only the next day the announced calm sets in. We correct the course and approach the planned route again. Under motor of course, because two to five knots, from north, are not enough for sailing. In the evening there is a little more wind and we can, at least temporarily, turn off the engine. At the end of the third day we still have 60 nautical miles to Puerto Obaldia. Also the last day puts us once again to a test of patience. The persistent moderate wind turns more and more to west and lets us advance only slowly. With our forces quite nicely at the end, we throw in the late afternoon the anchor before Obaldia into the rolling sea. The anchor holds well, however, the ship movements are considerable, nevertheless, we cannot overcome ourselves for the today's day to clear in. Glad to have arrived in Panama, we postpone the procedure to tomorrow and let us, with a beer, with us and the world contentedly, by the waves through rock. In the night I dream again of the Reiteralm, as I slam down the Muggle slope. Somehow I overdid it and jump out of a muggle valley vertically into the air and set myself up for a painful landing on the back. Suddenly I wake up and realize that I'm being thrown through the bunk by the swell.

As long as you see them from a distance, all good!

The next morning we start to clear in. I am too lazy to screw the engine to the dinghy in this swell and decide to row the short distance. A fatal mistake, as it will turn out later. With a little effort we land at the jetty, which is much too high, and climb ashore via a military boat. Gaby has her difficulties to overcome the enormous height. Together we manage it, with the usual curses, who constructs such a crap. The military post at the end of the jetty, is our first hurdle. Passaporte y Documento i barco por favor (at least that's how I understood it). I hand both to the young soldier and he enters the data into a clade. In addition, everything is photographed with the cell phone. After a while he asks where we come from. "Alemania", "oh Alemania, de donde eres?" "Stuttgart", "oh Stuttgart, VfB Stuttgart", an older one replies and puts on a big grin. The next step is immigration. We walk through the village past a copy store and get the necessary copies. The store also sells SIM cards, which immediately makes us mobile again. The immigration officer is a friendly smiling man. We are photographed and our fingerprints are taken. After that there are the stamps in the passport and that's it. "Welcome to Panama" the officer says and is happy to see that we also have a big smile on our faces. But we are not finished yet. At the Port Authority we get our Zarpe. The Zarpe allows us to sail the waters of Panama with our boat. It costs 200US$ and is valid for one year.

For the Zarpe five documents must be filled out. The captain does not let himself be deprived of this and fills out the documents himself, due to the lack of a computer, in beautiful handwriting. Finally, everything, including the carbon copies, is stamped, in triplicate of course. I watched the whole procedure with an astonished face, after all, it's been several years since I last saw someone use carbon paper, and when he carefully put the paper back in the drawer after use, I remembered how hellishly well you had to take care of it to be able to use it several times. Yes, I felt like I had been transported back in time. To the time when I was still making my tracks in the Reiteralm, early in the morning, as one of the first.

The Reiteralm on the SV Katinka

Back at the military post, a policeman and the old military man asked me if he could visit our boat. I agreed and with one jump they were both sitting in the dinghy. However, I imagined it differently. So I rowed the four of us to the Katinka. The attentive reader will have noticed, by now at the latest, that someone is missing. Vale did not make it. The drive of love was too great. What should she have done with us old bones. On the other hand, she missed the experience of reaching her limits. But she will certainly have enough opportunity to do so. I think it's a pity, because with the two I have in the dinghy it would have been much more fun, because Vale speaks her language. So we had to get by with cell phone translators, hands and feet. Worked so far, works now. After we exchanged our first names, had a tea and a coffee, I bring the two back ashore and we get ready for our trip through Panama.

Obaldia, Panama

And how we are doing in Panama and the San Blas Islands, you will find out as always on this blog. Until then, fair winds or as they say on the Reiteralm, break a leg. And keep a stiff upper lip!