There I was in the Swimming Pool. It’s not really a swimming pool – just the anchorage to the south of Banedup Island in the San Blas of Panama.

The Swimming Pool is so completely surrounded by coral reefs and islands covered in coconut palms that there is hardly a ripple. Also, there’s a nice little bar too, with swings instead of seats and absolutely the best Piña Coladas. You can take them to drink at a table under a thatched sunshade knee-deep in the water.

But I couldn’t stay there – not on the 100^th anniversary of the Guna revolution.

The Guna are the indigenous people of this region. They’ve been here for 500 years – and they continue to live just as they always have. You might find a village on an island so crowded that there’s hardly room to walk between the wattle houses – or maybe just one family in one hut on an island you can walk round in 15 minutes.

They live by fishing and collecting coconuts and selling intricately-sewn “Molas” to the cruising community who sail through here on their way to the Panama Canal.

They are delightful, smiling people who paddle their dugout canoes as they have for centuries – fishermen who come alongside in remote anchorages offering the Caribbean Spiny Lobster (like the European one but with no claws). At the more populated islands, whole families will come out selling molas and Guna courtesy flags. The flag takes some getting used to – it’s a Swastika, but they had it first when it was still respectable.

And they do love a party. Everybody agreed: The 100^th anniversary of the revolution was going to be the party of the century. After hundreds of years of  oppression – first by the Spanish Inquisition, then by the Panamanian government, they finally won their independence in 1925.

So, where to go for for the anniversary, that was the question.

The San Blas Cruisers WhatsApp group was divided between Carti Island and Tigre Island. I plumped for Carti because there was talk of fermented sugar cane. I spent a day sailing down there with the wind behind me, only to find no other boats and the island so crowded I couldn’t imagine there was space for even the tiniest re-enactment – let alone the sort of Bacchanalia you might expect from sugar cane hooch. I stayed a day, walked around the place until I realised I had wished “Buenas Dias” three times to the same old man sitting outside his door. I moved on.

I had to sail upwind and then downwind (to avoid a bunch of other islands apparently not in the party mood) but Tigre was the place to be – there must have been 20 boats anchored there – particularly families with young children (how many school trips feature re-enactments of beheadings and dismemberments?)

The celebrations went on for five days, with dancing and fireworks, kite-flying, more re-enactments (the Panamanian soldiers had wooden guns – the Guna, wooden machetes and wooden axes).

But the big event was the Congresso. This was an extended version of the regular gathering in the village hall when the business of the village is discussed and the elders sit on hammocks and chant the songs and histories of the people – which in turn get translated from the ancient tongue by the not-quite-so-old elders. As you might imagine, this can go on a bit, so certain villagers are delegated to shriek periodically to keep everyone awake (Did I say this was an enlightened civilization?)

Something else that is really good about Tigre is how clean and tidy they keep the island. While some others are ankle-deep in plastic, here every house has its wastebin – a wastebin cleverly constructed out of plastic bottles. They even use plastic bottles as shades for the solar-powered streetlamps.

I would have stayed longer but without warning (and ten days late) UPS found my new dinghy and delivered it to the duty-free zone in Colón. Suddenly getting back to the marina at Linton Bay seemed more important than a hundred years of Guna independence.

It’s taking two days because the wind died on the first afternoon and I found myself an island with a protective reef to anchor behind for the night. It was only the next day as the wind began to fill in from the north and I thought about pushing on that I realised the island was not deserted after all. There were two huts – one at each end. I like to think there were two families, each minding their own business, living their simple, charmed lives of lobsters and coconuts, sewing molas and singing.

I wonder whether just on this one special day, they got together for a party?

A typical island in the San Blas (there are said to be 365 of them)

Recycled recycling

Molas

The Congresso

Re-enactment

The Swimming Pool

There! It’s done! I’ve ordered a new dinghy and an outboard to go with it.

Actually, I rather hope the outboard – the electric outboard – is going to do more than just go with the dinghy. But more about that in a moment.

The first thing to acknowledge is when to admit your mistakes – and the little True Kit Stowaway dinghy was definitely a mistake. I got all enthusiastic when I wrote about it from Aruba but since then it’s been a disaster.

Oh, it’s easy to row – the clever catamaran design keeps it mostly out of the water so it just skims along the surface with the minimum of effort.

Yet there are still three drawbacks – all of them catastrophic.

1. It takes ages to blow up because you have to fit and partially inflate the floor and then switch back and forth between the air chambers as it all comes together (and then do it all again because you forgot to the seat and the valve caps got trapped underneath.)
2. Because the Stowaway does not have a solid transom (and therefore cannot take an outboard) it doesn’t have a self-bailer either. Until now, I had no idea how much water comes aboard a dinghy in a stiff headwind – it just drained out again. With this, the water was over my ankles. The shopping was underwater – and I had the devil’s own job turning the whole thing upside down afterwards to empty it out.
3. The rowing position is upright with your feet flat on the floor rather than leaning back and bracing against the transom. This means the rower sits directly on the bones of their pelvis rather than their comfortable fleshy buttocks (well mine are comfortable and fleshy). The result was a saltwater sore on the bum which wouldn’t go away until I stopped rowing completely.

The True Kit Stowaway dinghy – a mistake

So, I have ordered a 3D SuperLight TwinAir. I have had two of these in the past and they’ve been brilliant – apart from one small and important detail: The rowlocks fall to pieces in no time at all. Obviously, the makers don’t expect anyone to row their product. I had to have stainless inserts made to replace the plastic parts and then sewed the rubber together when it split. This time I shall sew it as soon as I get it…

But the biggest development is that I shall no longer be rowing those long hard passages against the wind. Did you read what happened during the two miles against the Tradewind in Barbuda?

It’ll put a link at the end.

Anyway, I have now ordered a RemigoOne electric outboard. I was turned on to the idea of electric by Steve and Judy on the Sailing Fair Isle YouTube channel. We met in the Canaries and then again in Grenada and Aruba. They were given an ePropulsion 1.0 Evo (and then the company’s little Elite model for comparison). But then they do have 72,000 subscribers.

I didn’t want an ePropulsion because this is about more than getting ashore in the dinghy. I want an electric motor that will propel Samsara through those big ocean calms that can last for 24 hours and more.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve nothing against going nowhere – I can sit in the cockpit with a good book for as long as you like. It’s the rolling I can’t stand.

My theory is that if the boat is moving through the water – even at just a knot or two – the keel will stop acting as a pendulum which only increases the rolling, but instead will convert the forward motion into lateral resistance as it is supposed to do. This in turn means the sails will stop shaking out any wind that gets into them and a couple of knots through the water might be translated into a couple of knots of apparent wind – which might then increase the forward motion even more so that I can throttle right back and, according to the specifications, one charge of the Remigo will keep me going for twelve hours.

And the RemigoOne – unlike the ePropulsion Evo – is designed to go on the back of a yacht (admittedly a small one. They specify 8m and 1.5t.) Samsara is a bit chunkier than that. All the same, it must have some effect, surely…

Something else to think about is that an outboard on the back of a yacht in an ocean swell could very well get dunked in the water. The Remigo is completely waterproof. It doesn’t even have a twist-grip on the tiller. I reckon I can get a stainless steel fitting made up for the transom and just lean over and slot it on and off when I need it.

The more I think about this, the more exciting it sounds. Remember the time I had to get alongside in English Harbour in Antigua and the diesel would only run for four minutes on what I could pour into the filter from a can. It was a calm day, I bet a Remigo would have managed that.

Also, the Remigo has a remote control – after all, you don’t want to have to scramble over the back of the boat to stop it…

Then there’s the matter of fuel. Currently, I’m in the San Blas Islands of Panama – people stay here for years but no matter how self-sufficient they may claim to be with their watermakers and spear guns, they still need diesel and there isn’t any. You have to sail 40miles to the marina at Linton Bay to fill up. Imagine how fantastic it would be to just plug your motor into the big folding solar panel and top up for nothing?

And no maintenance: Everybody here has two strokes because of the power-to-weight ratio. But you know how ticklish they are to keep running – and how noisy and smelly…

I’m not even planning to use the motor on the dinghy all the time. Rowing is still my chosen form of exercise – that and walking along white sand beaches to bars made of bamboo with palm-frond roofs to keep the sun off the beer.

But sometimes an outboard would be useful – and the Barbuda escapade isn’t the only instance. Out here there are plenty of places where it’s half a mile to the shore and even in a dinghy with a self-bailer, you can still get very wet sitting up on the seat and rowing into 20knots.

Cowering at the back of a dinghy next to a 3hp outboard will raise the bow and keep the spray where it belongs.

Best of all, the RemigoOne isn’t made in China like everything else, but in Slovenia – and I’m very keen on all things European.

As far as I can tell, there is only one downside. The nice folks in Ljubljana have given me a discount in return for any publicity I can drum up – and although they fully expect me to give an honest opinion, they have made some polite suggestions – a blog post about unpacking it, first impressions and so on. All the same, I can’t help feeling that real publicity means YouTube.

I do have a YouTube channel. Amazingly, it has 2,000 subscribers (10,000 on Instagram – heaven knows why. I never go near it because it’s full of adverts). Anyway, it does rather put my 959 blog subscribers into perspective

 Steve and Judy on Fair Isle worked in television. They know what to do. I bought a GoPro and was so frightened of the online instructions, I put it back in the box and haven’t dared to try it since. Besides, my son Hugo might come back soon. He filmed the “Tour of my Rival 32” – and that racked up 17,000 views.

On the other hand, now that I am officially a freeloader, I do feel a certain obligation – and I’m just sitting here in the sun, waiting for everything to arrive. What else have I got to do?

Meanwhile, those links:

Using an electric outboard to propel a yacht: https://www.oldmansailing.com/electric-outboards/

A long way to row in Barbuda: https://www.oldmansailing.com/a-long-way-for-a-lost-hat/

The RemigoOne electric outboard

https://remigo.eu/

Stainless steel inserts for the rowlocks

Stitching the rubber rowlocks back together

…and the other side

…until the rubber gave way

Also, you can see some video of the Stowaway in action on the oldmansailing YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@oldmansailing

Update March 2nd 2025

The new 3D dinghy has arrived (a white one this time) and I started changing the plastic inserts for the rowlocks – only to find they have changed the design. Whether this is as a result of my endless complaining in Googletranslate French, I cannot say. But now the 8mm plastic tube which used to break in no time at all, is a meaty 20mm fitting which seems to be part of the rubber moulding. It certainly doesn’t seem capable of movement – and I very much doubt I could get it out if I wanted.

I hope this means that the moulding itself will not flex – in which case it will not break and there is no need to sew in reinforcing as I had planned to do on the day it arrived.

If, they have indeed solved the problem, then I believe the 3D TwinAir Superlight, at 2.3m and 13kg is indeed the perfect dinghy.

A reader has taken me to task for the “gloaty tone” of the last post which launched my ADHD MLM book.

I did wonder whether I should add it to the blog or just leave it as a personal Facebook post – after all, it hasn’t got much to do with sailing. But then, one of the most common traits of ADHD is the total disregard for other people’s feelings.

So, apologies for that.

Also, the reader was confused about my various sources of income – and since another symptom is “a compulsion to share inappropriate personal details” I can tell you that by far the largest slice comes from Network Marketing which is why I take the opportunity to mention it whenever the occasion arises.

 Also, of course, I get something from the books, and the food supplement which is not Network Marketing but Affiliate Marketing (you can look up the difference) –  and we mustn’t forget my dear little UK Old Age Pension…

So, as you might imagine, it does make sense to plug whatever is appropriate – as long as I don’t do it too often. The thing that I find really offensive is those people (YouTubers mostly) who refuse to talk to anyone or to answer emails from people who don’t pay into their Patreon account every month.

I hope I shall never be reduced to that.

Meanwhile, as you may have read in my Faster, Louder, Riskier, Sexier book, I do have to make up the £342,500 I lost by being too bored to read a contract. Anyway, I regard having to work as good for the soul.

For instance, here I am on my way back to the San Blas islands and so far I have met an American who has been there for five years and a German who claims he has not left the islands – not even for a day – in the last eight! I know there are said to be 365 of them, but they are all packed into an area 30 miles by 10. That doesn’t sound much like cruising under sail to me.

So instead, I am planning a trip of 15,000 miles. There will be nine stops and I reckon I can get three “Voyage” books out of it.

I won’t say any more about that now – I might change my mind about the itinerary. Afterwards, I could spend a year in the San Blas to recover.

This is the new book – the ninth book – and by far the most expensive.

The Kindle version sells for £20. It’s £25 in paperback.

But then it’s worth a lot more than that. To be precise, it’s worth £546,893. That is how much the information it contains has been worth to me.

In 15 days time, it will be more.

How much more, I cannot predict. That’s what makes the 20^th of the month so exciting for Network Marketers like me – when the residual income from the little part-time thing I started back in April 2005 drops into the bank account just as it has every month since May 2005.

On that very first payday, the figure was only £90 – but of course, that was still more than three or four times the price of the book today. Now, for the same amount of work, it would be a hundred times as much…

So, I have felt the need to explain in the blurb: “Either this works or you get your money back…which is just as well, because it is a very expensive book. There’s a reason: I could have put the same information into an online course and charged $999 for it. But I think the people who publish online courses probably make more from them than they do from Network Marketing. I am a Network Marketer, not an internet entrepreneur. Also, I want people to value the information – that’s why there’s the money-back guarantee. Anyway, you can always download a sample and find out what it’s all about before you spend any money at all…”

Another thing: I need to know it’s going to be worth publishing – because I am aware that it could get me into a lot of trouble.

Every Network Marketing company in the world – every MLM business – tells its new recruits to start by talking to their family and friends. Who else would you start with?

But the trouble with that is that the new recruit is so excited about having their own business, so dazed with the prospect of untold riches, that they don’t just talk to their families and friends, they pester them – say all the wrong things. I know, because that’s what I did – and that’s why it didn’t work. It’s why it doesn’t work for most people – why MLM companies have such dreadful reputations as “dodgy schemes” or “pyramid scams”.

But somebody must be making money – how else can the industry be bringing in $1.6 trillion a year?

And there has never been a time when people have needed an extra income more than they do today. Inflation is rampant around the world: Wages have been stagnant for decades – and, of course, at the bottom of the pile are the people with ADHD – the people who don’t fit into the world of work as it has been designed by the other 80% of the population.

That’s right: 20% of people have ADHD – that’s 1.5 billion people who struggle to keep a job (who don’t even get paid enough when they’ve got one).

So, whether you have this peculiar mental kink or you just don’t think you have enough money coming in, here is your answer. Don’t take my word for it. Don’t buy the book. Instead, just download a sample for nothing and then decide.

Think about it: How different would your life be if, on the 20^th of next month, you were to see one hundred times the cover price drop into your bank account – and then, month after month, that figure continue to rise – until in 20 years time, you are able to click on the company app and see a grand total of £546,893?

Or, in your case, considerably more…

https://amzn.eu/d/8VjZP2W

This is The Graveyard in Linton Bay, one of the most popular anchorages on the Atlantic coast of Panama. You can see four wrecks (not counting the one in the middle sitting upright on its bilge keels with just the mast sticking out vertically like a lamp post).

All of them dragged their anchors in a stiff northeasterly at one time or another and bounced across the rocks and coral to end up in front of the Casa X restaurant. Nobody bothered to do anything about them and now they provide the clientele with a salutary view over their $10 Platos Completos.

Samsara might have joined them yesterday.

Fortunately, it appears that although I can be very forgetful about taking shoes when I go ashore or running the watermaker with the inlet closed or (as has just happened) boiling the kettle dry and only realising because of the funny burning smell) I do seem to be more reliable about the important routines.

For instance, it may seem pedantic and annoying for my neighbours but every time I set the anchor, I have a habit of backing up until the chain is taut and then gradually increasing the revs until the little Nanni 21hp is screaming in reverse with water boiling all around the cockpit.

When this happens, the boat is supposed to stay where she is, transits of buoys and trees and boats and houses all steady on their bearings. Only then do I let it idle for a bit to recover and then shut down (to everyone’s relief).

It’s a trick I learned from Shane Acton when he returned to the UK after setting the record for the smallest boat to sail round the world. He had an outboard but couldn’t really afford the petrol to run it, so the only time it got used was to set the anchor.

“Only thing it’s good for,” said Shane.

I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that, but using the engine to dig the anchor into the bottom has got to be just as important as getting out of a marina in an onshore Force 6.

Or, in this case, I arrived nicely on schedule from Porvenir in the San Blas and found a vacant spot equidistant from the Casa X and the Marina’s Black Pearl Restaurant. I let go in 13 metres, allowed the boat to drift back while I organised the snubber, put the chain on the cleat to spare the windlass, stowed the autopilot, switched off the electronics… and finally clicked the gear lever into reverse.

We backed down gently until we were level with Lulu the Swedish cutter I last saw in Curacao – although I hadn’t thought I’d end up so close to the American Westsail behind me. This was the first clue that something wasn’t right. We weren’t stopping.

Putting the engine back into neutral, I nipped up to the foredeck and planted my foot firmly on the “Up” switch (which is actually the “Down” switch but I wired them up back to front and couldn’t see the point of changing them all over again just for the sake of correctness.)

With the usual grinding and screeching from Mr Lofran’s machinery, 45 metres of chain crawled back aboard – and at the end of it, the anchor emerged backwards. That is to say: upside down – with the chain wrapped tightly around the crown and then back over itself so that I could have dragged it backwards all the way to Colon and it wouldn’t have shown the slightest inclination to dig in.

I got very muddy hanging over the bow, sorting it out – all the while feeling very glad I have a small boat with an anchor I can lift on deck with one hand (while holding on to the other side of the pulpit for dear life with the other).

Magnus from Lulu turned up in his dinghy just as all this was coming to an end – kind of him to offer to help but, as I say: small boats have their advantages.

So, by the time I had gone through the whole palaver all over again and Samsara showed no sign of shifting no matter how much the gearbox protested, the evening had advanced well towards the hour of the beer.

And guess what: At two o’clock in the morning, I was awakened by the wind charger screaming with delight at being able to produce 400W from a 30kt gust – right out of the northeast.