Capucian Beach

Day 4 - January 30, 2012 (First Rest Day)

Breakfast: pancake mix made with powdered milk, no eggs, topped with peanut butter, jam and honey

Almond tree

Ahhh....deeeeeep morning stretch as we awaken in the shade with the sun already high in the sky.  Since first getting to Santa Catalina we’ve camped in our mesh tent with no shade around and I love it - it makes for early sunrise, up-’n’-at-em mornings that’s for sure! So it was a treat to take a morning off from rushing to get on the water before sunrise, or to be woken by the heat of the sun. 

While eating breakfast though, I find myself distracted and staring off in space. I leave the rest of my breakfast to Jaime and get up, walking down to the waters edge to be alone.  I feel an overwhelming need to cry. I’m emotional all over again but this time it’s nothing to do with kayaking.  I’m finding that Jaime is triggering a lot of old issues for me over my ex, and it leads me down a path of worry and sadness about family, ex-lovers, future babies, friends‘ babies, stuff that just doesn’t make sense right now but is rearing it’s head for me to take notice and sit with it.  I can’t even release the tears (Wendy, I’m thinking of you here and laughing uncomfortably at that statement!) so I think that I can go back to the tent to sleep it off. 

Wildlife Cove

Day 3 - January 29, 2012 (The Marathon)

Day’s Total Distance: 17nM 

Breakfast: Oatmeal with dried fruit

  We’re getting our morning routine a little tighter now, and we’re on the water by 6:55am, barely light out yet. I feel clear, both psychologically and physically and I’m ready to conquer the day!  As we leave the beach and get out into the open ocean, I smile big with the swell of the ocean...she feels as though she’s just waking up, having her morning stretch going through the motions of a flow yoga...gentle rolls and swells like a good cat/cow yoga pose...lifting me in my boat and gently propelling me forward.  To add to the beauty of the morning, I hear howler monkeys all around me, sounding like wind racing through a steep couloir, deep and mysterious because you can’t tell where they could possibly be coming from!  The coastline is steep cliff-sides, the water is much more interesting with real motion, and my heart races with the movement of it all.

The swell feels like the ocean's morning yogic stretch, and I'm absorbing its energy as I'm lifted by the motion and propelled forward in my kayak

Coconut Beach

Day 2 (The Hump) - January 28, 2012

Day’s Total Distance: 4nM

Breakfast: granola/cereal, powdered milk, an apple

Morning veil

  At the very least, I really enjoyed the scenery today, as well as the feeling of floating on the swell of the ocean. But that’s about it.  Today was a tough go.  Mostly I can’t wait to get out of the kayak, on to a beach, relaxing in the shade, eating and setting up camp for a day or more. My butt’s numb and I’m feeling emotional, man! I want to cry for nothing but the sake of releasing tears!

Midnight Visitors

Day One - January 27, 2012

Day’s Total Distance: 6 Nautical Miles (NM)

Breakfast: Granola with powdered milk, an apple and a granola bar shortly after

We get a pretty late start and paddle from about 9:30am until noon.

I feel crusty already.  My chin is red and sore from accidentally peeling too much of the sunburn from it, exposing raw skin to the scorching sun, and my hands are painfully sunburnt feeling tender and stinging to the touch.  Keeping my head down with my hat on, I try pathetically to hide from the sun while in my kayak...this is ridiculous I think to myself. Only day one and I’m in piss poor shape to be exposed to the unforgiving sun rays.

Quick-dry fabric covers for the backs of my hands (thanks Jaime), polarized sunglasses, rash/sun-guard long sleeved top, spray skirt, hat and pink sparkly scarf. I'm in the tropics with NO skin exposed. Sheesh.

Machete Beach

Waving our guests goodbye, Jaime and I excitedly prepare to launch before sunset comes!

Standing knee deep in the warm water of the bay and waving our guests goodbye, Jaime and I turn to each other with a big high five!  Let’s do this!!  After a confusing few days about whether or not we were really going to be granted permission for our adventure, we were still in the dark about it.  We hadn’t seen el heffe around since yesterday, and as we busied ourselves packing our gear and getting the boats set up, a few of the younger rangers would pass us by and say things like
  “En kayuko? Pero....es peligroso [dangerous]!”
  “Wow, I’ve always wanted to do that trip!”
and finally as we set sail into the sunset, “Buen viaje!” 
Looks like we’re free birds, no payment, no permission, no rules, no problema!  All the kerfuffle for nada! Typical.

Isla De Coiba

Isla de Coiba, the largest island in Panama can be found on the south-western coast in the Pacific Ocean

     “Yeah, I wan’t sure if you guys would show up or not, I had my bags packed and ready to go on trip myself” Michael says as we jump in his truck this morning, on our way to the beach to load up the boat.

  Oops. Sorry about that, Michael.  After a frustrating night in Santiago dealing with internet and last minute work stuff, Jaime and I returned to Santa Catalina around midnight, nothing yet packed, and only a few hours of sleep banked before trip. 

Trip Preparations

A run-through of setting up the boats in Santa Catalina before our trip

  We’re nearing departure time for our kayak trip around Isla de Coiba, and our next task is to piece together a dialogue for el heffe of the National Park on the Island.  Though everyone who visits the island must obtain a permit to do so, it turns out we may not be able to simply paddle around the island as easily as we’d assumed.  It seems they aren’t too friendly to people camping just anywhere in this UNESCO World Heritage Site, and it’s a real gamble to get permission from them to do this sort of trip.  

Wherever you go, There you are

I’m having a really difficult time writing this post. I’ve started and stopped and erased and re-written several times. Letting myself be distracted by every little thing, watching out the corner of my eye at the trip photos that Jaime is editing on his computer next to me, experiencing heightened awareness of non-existent bugs, looking around me to see what everyone else is up to...but there’s no one in the restaurant. It’s more to do with this vulnerable feeling encroaching and I’m wanting to do everything I can to cover it up.
The quote seems cliche, but I know that ‘wherever you go, there you are’ and I’ve been waiting for my anxious-self to arrive here in Santa Catalina.


Often lost in thought

Fruit Truck Comes to Town

Finally my hula hoop Madame Tutu and I had a playdate this morning. (Madame Tutu is the name she came with though we’ve been together almost a year now, I haven’t yet thought of anything different) All those days spent awkwardly hooping in my living room, or braving the cold out in the backyard, I would dream of doing it in sunnier climes, wide open spaces, overlooking the ocean....now I have it! Yay!! I’ve also found that bare skin sticky from the morning heat and salty air helps to keep the hoop slightly bonded to me better, so I had some good success with a couple tricks. I haven’t picked it up in many long months, it was a great feeling to dance with it again. With Jaime doing yoga on the waters edge and I with my hoop, it was another lovely start to our morning.

A Case of the Monday’s in Santa Catalina

We awoke this morning with the sun at I’m guessing 8am, already blazing hot in the all-mesh tent. I rolled over and looked out at the water, barely a handful of people out surfing yet which was my first clue to the weekend being over. My skin needed a break from the sun today so instead of our morning session in the waves, we spent it in a shady corner of the beach practicing yoga, as a group of tourists on horseback passed us by, surfers heading out, traversing the beach in the distance. It’s so nice having someone to practice beside, as I really admire Jaime’s practice. Well ok, it’s pretty hot admiring his sculpted body flow through handstands, arm balances and the likes.  *giggle*

I actually thought I’d see more people doing yoga here, but not so. Jaime has a fairly advanced practice and a few of the guests have come up to us voicing their admiration and curiosities. I feel like such a yuppie westerner when I talk about yoga.  [see YouTube video of  "Shit Yogis Say" for further emphasis of what I mean by that] Vancouver being so saturated with it, I tend to assume much of the world is as preoccupied with it, that it’s perfectly normal for everyone to have tried it at least a few times in their life.

Weekend Warriors

Our first weekend is now over, with the last of the weekend warriors headed back home to Santiago and the surrounding areas, leaving Santa Catalina a sleepy beach town once again. For two days, cars full of youth and of young families would line the shorline, bringing surfboards or boogie boards, some with lawn chairs and toys for the kids to spend the day playing in the waves. Others though, the flash young adults of the big city would stay behind at their cars, open all the doors, the boot, the hood even! and have a tailgate party, attempting to win over their neighbour by playing their terrible reggaeton noise louder than the next. All day for 2 days did we hear nothing but this cheesy obnoxious music. (I like to think of it as the Latino version of Bollywood music but even then I think I like Bollywood better) They would drink their beers, and stand around looking for people to admire them. The music drove me absolutely mental. It was so loud that escaping it was impossible. A couple of the houses around us even started in on it and finally we had to get out of here, so we grabbed a couple bikes and headed into town.


Quaint little eateries offer simple dishes of seafood and fresh licuados or batidos (fruit juices or smoothies)

Arrival in Santa Catalina

Jaime's rendered map of Panama ;)

“Um Paradise? Hi, lovely to meet you, name’s Allie, I think we’re gonna be best friends. Ok?” (Hmm, strikingly similar to how my best friend Bree and I met years ago, pretty sure it’s the exact same conversation we had. It sure turned out alright eh Bree?!)

We are Loaded (yes, capital L loaded) down with gear. These folding kayaks are heavy business, thank god they’re on wheels! We pull into Santa Catalina in the dark, and already the vibe is laaiid back mon. Barefoot, surfboard-toting locals and gringos alike, pedestrians and bikes roam the roads, the air is smelling oh so sweet.

Arrival in Panama City

Jan 9-10
Arrival to Panama City

Getting to bed at 12:30am the night before I leave Vancouver, I’m already up again at 4:30am. A breakfast smoothie in hand, I arrive at the airport with plenty of time to weigh my bags, crossing my fingers they come in underweight, that my hula hoop can be allowed as a carry on, and that I don’t get questioned over my donning of my PFD. Turns out they don’t even check my bag for me, let alone weigh it, only telling me to pass it off down the hall onto a conveyor belt. Done deal. Phew! I pull my rain jacket over my PFD to casually hide it. No one notices.

Seated in last row of the plane - great. I’ve got a tight connection of only 20 minutes once we land in Houston and manage to thankfully squeeze my way off the plane past the other passengers, running to my next gate only to find out the plane is late by an hour, as most flights for Panama are late due to weather. My 3 hour wait for Jaime is now only 2 hours, but will his flight be late as well? Hmm.

The ubiquitous airplane sunrise (or was it sunset?) photo

Gratitude...pass it on!

OoooOhh My!

Every time I attend a yoga class, I am beaming from the inside out.  Literally. I spent this evening's entire class wearing a soft smile. I am lucky to have access to classes with such fine teachers, such a special assortment of beautiful souls that I find not only while on the mat, but off it as well.

Chaos!

And this is just the north-east corner....

My room is an organized bomb waiting to wreak havoc; strategic foot placement is required to manoeuvre the disappearing floor space taken up by last minute canada post packages of much needed camera equipment, last minute craigslist purchases of more camera equipment, mountains of clothes spilling out of every shelf, drawer and suitcase to sift through (what will I take?!), papers to sort through, government crap to deal with, banking to sort out, laundry to do, items to quickly fix & sew, one more shop at Ecomarine for necessary camping and kayaking equipment, a pile in the corner of crap to donate, more stuff to sell off, 'see ya later' dates to arrange with loved ones on my mind (I'm sorry I won't get to see all of you!), *LiFe to clean up before I go!  Holy jeez. There's a theme song somewhere in this chaos...."where's your head at?" hahah YUP.

Countdown: 5 sleeps!

Perceptual Shift

"Put the author back in authority"

I like this quote. It's talking about finding your voice and not writing in someone else's.  It was part of an article entitled '25 Things Writers Should Stop Doing to Themselves', found while cruising the internet and I wanted to elaborate as it relates to a conversation I had this morning.

Solitude

I'm reading 'Solitude' [Seeking Wisdom in Extremes] by Robert Kull, a novel about spending a year alone in the Patagonia wilderness. 

I'm sharing a few quotes that struck a chord with me as I read and related: