Back out to the Coco Bandera’s Islands. Four tropical islands, no one there other than a few yachties. Baitfish schooled right up to the white sand in thick schools, darting to avoid the pelicans’ plunging bills. Dad, Nick and I snorkelled through them parting them as a negative pole of a magnet would on silvery iron filings. We explored the steel ship wreck on the outer pass by dinghy and dived on various reefs where the current was tolerable. However the fish life does appear to be lacking the large predatory species and the schools of juvenile jacks are edgy. It appears to have suffered from inordinate fishing pressure. The nights were perfect sleeping temperature and the anchorage was comfortably flat.

Every Monday in the Hollandaise the cruisers hold a pot luck evening and Dad, Nick and I were not going to be outdone or go hungry so we pulled together to prepare the crab and aubergine rounds in good time to greet the other dishes as they beached. The turnout of people was fantastic, the finger food was meagre. Crackers and topping turned out from cans, our crab dish disappeared in seconds flat, luckily Dad scooped up the last pieces for me otherwise I’d have nothing in tumtum to soak up all the lovely cabernet Nick was kindly poring. We mingled amongst the spectrum of people gathered until the darkness closed in and then headed home to chuckle in reflection of things said.

After some early morning trolling out the back of the reef on Tuesday morning we pulled anchor on PC and Dad drove us back to the island of Nargana, supplies were getting low and we had an early plane to catch the following day to Panama. We were in the first Cyuca load to “Airstrip Island” and stood near the wreck of the Arrivals hut watching the Kuna man try to start his outboard to collect the next load. “Give it the buoyancy test” was Dads advice.

In Panama we had PC’s alternator fixed, bought a shirt to have mola-ed, Dad bought Nick a delightful spanner set and we took an educational trip to see the Miraflora Locks on the Panama Canal. As it was my birthday the next day and the red meat eaters amongst us could have eaten the back end out of a rotten fox, we dined at an Argentinean restaurant that night.