In part 1 of this series, I began the story of my stay on on a remote Caribbean island in San Blas off the coast of Panama during a full moon/eclipse. I was thrilled to be there since it was something I’d always wanted to do.
The Kuna indigenous, however, weren’t so happy. In fact, they were freaked out because of a superstitious belief that “bad things happen” during any full moon, especially when part of an eclipse. Despite not believing in curses, I found their fearful energy a bit unsettling.
I ignored what they said, of course, and went about my business–you know, the enjoyment of my time there.
And then, some things went wrong.
Some of it just happened. And some of it, I think, could have been avoided. (Note: this post doubles as a trip report.) At one point, because of the nature of our adventure (fewer than 10 people on 1 remote island), I got the feeling we were on the TV show Survivor without knowing it. I wondered if someone was hiding with a camera behind a palm tree…
Without further ado, here’s the conclusion to the story…
It did rain that night and I had to find creative ways to cope.
At first, it was gentle and sounded lovely, combined with the wind, and the palm trees somehow protected us from it. Eventually, the rain grew stronger and came all the way in through the top vent of the tent (no way to close it, by the way).
I had to open up my umbrella–inside the tent–to protect me, my backpack, my camera and iPad. I couldn’t yell out for help to Matteo, one of our tour guides, because he was a 5- to 10-minute walk away from us on the other side of the island. So with the umbrella shielding me, I attempted to sleep.
Fortunately, during the wee hours of the night, Matteo came and covered the tent with tarp and the rain stopped coming in.
Me, thinking, “Am I really camping on a tropical island?” (Notice the tent in the background.)
The fish mysteriously disappeared the day after the eclipse…and the crabs continued to freak me out
When Matteo, Nixia (his partner) and some Kuna men went fishing the next day, they caught nothing. They tried for hours and hours, too. Perhaps the fish were scared of the curse and the eclipse? 
Or maybe the full moon’s tide had affected them somehow.
I was disappointed since I really wanted to eat lobster again, or maybe something just about as yummy. But I dealt with it. It wasn’t the end of the world, of course. Also, Matteo was such an excellent cook; we ended up having pasta with a fresh sauce to die for. Well, maybe to live for.
Meanwhile, the crabs were still around–mostly at night. None, fortunately, made it into my tent. Phew.
I saw these guys, all soldiers in the Red Crab Army, on the Caribbean and Pacific coasts. On the former, they came out at night. On the latter, it was early in the morning.
Also, my travel mates and I got along quite well and there was no humiliating “getting voted off the island” type of thing. Of course, personally, I gladly would have voted that any and all crabs leave…immediately!
But the tent situation got worse the next night…
Unfortunately, the next night, we (a friend and I) made a serious mistake. We attempted to cover the tent with the tarp too soon, before the rain came and right as the wind was picking up. Under normal circumstances, this would have been fine. But, and we didn’t know it, the tarp was too small.
So, we used safety pins to hold it in place–attached to the tent. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, the wind found its way through the space between the tarp and the tent, and this, for me, was a noisy nightmare. Why?
It sounded like thousands of plastic bags being slammed on a plastic tent coffin. That sound, combined with the warm/still air in the tent, almost pushed me over the edge.
Earplugs were useless. I had to remove the tarp, wait for the rain and then place it directly over the tent. Not fun. I worried that the red crabs might nip at my feet.
Looking back, I’m quite disappointed about the tarp incident because our guides did know it was too small and it was their responsibility to have the right tarp (or to discount the tour during rainy season to compensate for that).
We did what other ‘survivors’ would do: we made fire….
Before bedtime, we worked together to gather driftwood and dead palm fronds and then made a fire. It was wonderful to sit around it and chat.
Also, the Australian girl in our group grilled fresh pineapple with sugar–which was yummy–and we got to enjoy the sounds of the Caribbean water and the light breeze while warming ourselves by the fire. Simple things like that were a pleasure.
Faces in the fire? Spirits from previous eclipses that went badly? Or just a fire…?
…and laughed about the lunacy of “la luna llena’
Despite all of the madness of the full moon, the alleged curse and the things that did, in fact, go wrong, we enjoyed ourselves. The water was simply lovely and and having an island to ourselves was idyllic. Our guides had great information about the area and Matteo was a fantastic chef.
Would I do it again?
Yes, absolutely. There’s nothing quite like having a Caribbean island to yourself. You really feel a million miles away from everything–especially other tourists–and I love that.
But if I did it again, I’d double check the weather and ask about the quality of the tents before I go.
Were we on Survivor, San Blas, without realizing it? Maybe…
Your Thoughts/Ideas/Opinions?
Are you superstitious during travel or otherwise? Do you believe in bad luck? Have you spent time with indigenous folks who have certain beliefs that you find hard to swallow? If so, how did you handle yourself?
How do you feel when things go wrong during an adventurous type of trip? How much of it do see as tour guide error and how much is just “things happening”? In this case, I do believe it was the tour guide’s responsibility to have better equipment. With what they had, they probably should have been charging less for the tour.
For those who have camped on a beach….
What was it like? Did you encounter any creatures that made you uncomfortable (eg, red or white crabs?) Were you attacked by sand flies? (Fortunately, we weren’t.) Would you do it again?
For those who have not camped on a beach…
Are you someone who prefers to be in a hotel? If so, tell us why…what about camping is not appealing?
This is where we stayed–the island we had to ourselves. The name: Cayes Hollandeses. Gorgeous, isn’t it?
Links
San Blas/Kuna Photo Essay Check out my photos of the islands and the Kuna and check out a lovely photo essay (slideshow with music). You’ll see over 100 photos in just 1.5 minutes.
Special thanks to Stuart and Will of Mamallena Hostel in Panama City. They offer a wealth of information about San Blas/Kuna tours and were extremely helpful to me when planning this one. The hostel partners with the couple running this tour, incidentally. While I do believe the tour isn’t quite what it should be (yet), I do believe it has potential and will be a great option once the kinks are worked out.