Colombia to Panama by 74ft yacht (The Valhalla)

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The Valhalla, Caribbean Sea, 26th February 2005
This fine 74ft craft was used to transport this wanted crew of individuals below from Columbia to Panama. We all made it alive. Just. The stories and photos and characters are fictional. Based on a true story.

The Valhalla Crew
From top left to bottom right: Barbara the German Barbarianess, Ju Punk, Kristoff the Giant, Cap(hic)tain Dennis, Akuta the Siberian Husky, Brooke the Brand Bandit, Pirate Tyler , Gumboy, Nic the Pom and Nora the Runaway. Dina the knife wielder was not available for a photograph and Nightrider was in restraints on the rear deck. Needless the say, it was a full moon and the wind changed so now we are all now permanently disfigured.


The Port of Cartagena, Colombia, 21st February 2005
Using the halyard lines we leveled Nightrider onto the rear deck of Valhalla. A dreamy execution in comparison to the preferred man muscle method of motorcycle enlightenment used in the rivers of the Amazon.


Caribbean Sea, Colombia, 26th February 2005
Five dolphins paced themselves on the bow of our plastic fantastic for more than an hour. Diving and thriving in the swell billowing us towards Panama. On three separate occasions these mammals graced our sails. On more than one occasion they tried to leap into the boat envious of all the fun we were having. Unfortunately we had to push them back in. Darren the dolphin was hitting on the Barbarianess and Kristoff the Giant was not having a bar of it.




Cap(hiccup)tain Dennis, Colombia, 21st February 2005
The Columbians are damn strict when it comes to boats entering and leaving their harbours due to the extreme amount of drug trafficking that exists on their shores. Our part-time charismatic alcoholic cap(hic)tain is being searched by the DAS before entering to finalize the stamping of our passports for departure (A week later in Panama I was informed that Dennis had lost all seven passports of his previous crew.) Regardless I grew to like Dennis. There was a good soul in there that popped out on the occasion.

Our final night on the boat in Porto Belo I slept next to him on deck to insure his chef (who cooked once)/ex-girlfriend/girlfriend of the former boat owner who died of throat cancer/ self-acclaimed owner of the vessel wouldn't kill him. She had already tried a few days earlier. I knew she wouldn't stab him if I was there. (NOTE: Even though this lady was obviously nuts she had good reason with a seriously hard history in her veins. I just hope that Dennis gets her the help she needs so she can look after her kids in Colombia.

Interesting note: In the USA if you are caught with any marijuana or any illegal drug (the leaf of a bud, the resin in a pipe, or actual smoke billowing from your lungs) on your boat the Coast Guards have the right to claim your boat forever. Sure if you are packing kilo's in the keel fair enough... but micrograms for a million dollar boat? I wanna be a coast guard.



Returning from DAS, Colombia, 21st February 2005
Four of the crew returning from another paper trail to secure our departure. The Giant Germans, Nick the Pom and Brooke the Brand Bandit, Nora the the runaway Peruvian was trailing in the background with the Pirate and Punk in town, whilst some random motorcyclist zipped back and forth until I took a photo of him.


Getting ready for departure? Colombia, 21st February 2005
After waiting almost three days on the boat for our delayed and severely unorganized departure we tried to convince this local Captain to take all seven of us on his home made boat to Panama. He tried to run, he tried to hide, he paddled to the other side. I mean, we had our papers, why not. Strap my bike to the back.....anyway who would trust a captain who doesn't wear underpants.


Cartegena, Colombia, 22nd February 2005
I lay my stray notes in the palms of the less fortunate lining the lane ways of Cartagena thinking I was leaving the very next morning, I had no money left. We did not leave for two more days. I had nothing to do but starve until departure. Withdrawing money from an ATM would cost me another five bucks. I don't have those sorts of pennies lying around so I decided to take pictures of my head to pass the time.


The Port of Cartagena, Colombia, 23nd February 2005
The tight as a budgy smugglers nuts crew on the actual eve of departure. Little did they know...


Caribbean Sea, Panama, 26th February 2005
For 20minutes I fought a giant Dorado to the gangplank, reeling and flexing my forearms for the camera. Fancy little fanny belt and all. , Cap(hic)tain Dennis leant over to gaff the rainbow warrior. He severed the line in the process. We had been surviving on tomato sauce sandwiches for long enough, every crew member darting the evil eye towards the pulsating captain (Ju Punk pulled her eyeball out and threw it at him in disgust) who had already severed his own leg and was kicking himself in the nuts with it in frustration at his first ever line severing.


San Blas Islands, Panama, 27th February 2005
A speck of womanhood swirled its way from the distant shoreline of a local coconut covered island. One of many surrounding our current mooring, manipulating themselves starboard for a $5 mooring payment. Pirate Tyler oversaw the transaction and was happy with the the transaction. However the next morning his Pirate ways almost forced Cap(hic)tain Dennis down the gang plank for letting his salty balls mercilessly dangle from the bottom of his sailing shorts after a hard night on the grog.


San Blas Islands, Panama, 27th February 2005
Our navy bucket of bag eggs swamped the opposition when it came to muscle flexing. The two masted master mustered the height to ensure supreme reign over the watery delight that could at any stage swallow us whole. Zeus told me it was only on account it was my birthday that he did not cast a storm over our gathered swarm.


San Blas Islands, Panama, 27th February 2005
The birthday bliss face, renowned for its solid glow and worthy smile. The only day of the year when the world is your oyster, you just gotta work out how to crack it open.



Capitan Castillo waiting for the President in Porto Viner, Panama, 27th February 2005
The president of Panama surprised me with a brief visit for my birthday in his personal helicopter flown by Capitan Castillo (the golden coat of arms to the left of the capitan is the presidential mark). We held brief court before he flew off to another meeting. Nice guy, if only I could remember his name.



San Blas Islands, Colombia, 27th February 2005
Me and the Prez hanging out for a photo shoot before his security guard whisked him under the spinning blades to ascend onward and upward, as presidents do. He really wanted a photo of me with my shirt off and my hair in a little wrap. God knows why, but as Marilyn Monroe knows so well, what the President says goes.


Wichub Huala Island, Panama, 28th February 2005
The colourful kit that weaves it way around these faithful followers is draw from the history of the Kuna Indians. These Kuna kids are watching me pulling a windsurfer for the local mayor. Everyone loves a good dick trick.


Wichub Huala Island, Panama, 28th February 2005
A local midget reaching not much higher than my ankles moments later reached out and vibrated his vocal cords with the most impressive dirty 1900's accent.. "Please sir, can I some more?" Believe it or not, he is actually looking up to my knee caps.



Wichub Huala Island, Panama, 28th February 2005
The local hairdresser was away at a Tony and Guy seminar and left the clutches to his nephew Larry. Instead of inserting his fingers he grasped each handle with each hand and lopped away.


Wichub Huala Island, Panama, 28th February 2005
Larry is seen here testing the springs in the late model hair chair cum dentist chair cum operating chair. After brief consultation ten more orders were placed for his piercing salon.



Wichub Huala Island, Panama, 28th February 2005
Without doubt there was a major hole in the market with which I knew I could fill . Rodger and I talked business, heavily considering the opportunities sparkling on the horizon. Larry being the nosy little midget he is stuck to us like glue. He wanted in.


San Blas Islands, Panama, 28th February 2005
The rod quivered and spun its man made web into sea. I leapt from a deepened slumber to catch the little bandit biting at the disco lure. Just enough meat for eight little fillets. I managed to slither the best bit onto my plastic dinner plate. After frying all body parts over a sizzling pan whilst the Giant decapitated various vegetables the crew consumed the first fish en tour. To the Brand Bandits absolute disgust I sucked an eyeball straight from the deep fried skull, offering the other to the giant, who surprisingly refused. Later resuming the ultimate delicacy, fish brains. I like the little muscle that rotates the eyeball the best.


Wichub Huala Island, Panama, 28th February 2005
Kristoff the giant punched the button on my camera as the sun was falling in love with the ocean and I was busy folding origami penguins.



Porto Belo, Panama, 28th February 2005
The final water crossing. After more than fifty boats South America was history. Here was the new horizon, Central America. All the Pirate and I had to do was maneuver this teeny weeny tugboat 200metres to shore...



Wichub Huala Island, Panama, 28th February 2005
...and we made it! Central America. What you got to show for yourself? All I gotta do is get over this little mountain here...

 

A MAN, A PLAN, A CANAL, PANAMA and backwards.... AMANAP, LANAC A, NALP A, NAM A
The most impressive palindrome ever to pass a Panamanians pineapple.