Off The Grid In Panama

Gazing through the window of our small plane, the mountainous jungles of Costa Rica abruptly fell away as the Bocas del Toro archipelago loomed into view, the lush islands scattered serenely upon the sparkling Caribbean Sea. Eager to escape the clamor and chaos of San Jose, we had boarded a Nature Air commuter plane at dawn. The runway was enshrouded by a fine mist as we joined a handful of passengers en route to the Archipiélago de Bocas del Toro, (Spanish for "mouth of the bull”) in Panama. Our destination was Dolphin Bay on the remote Isla Cristobal. The area, one of the earth’s last Eden’s, contains a number of secluded islands in the Caribbean, many still unscathed by human development. The region consists of nine islands, 52 keys and over 200 tiny islets with a total population of 9,000, the majority of which live in the town of Bocas del Toro.
Upon our arrival at the Aeropuerto Internacional de Bocas del Toro "Isla Colón", the skies abruptly darkened and the rains began, thundering down upon the metal roof, forcing us to raise our voices to be heard above the din. The heat was oppressive as we waited our turn to enter Customs and Immigration, a diminutive room that housed two battered metal desks and a clanking metal fan perched atop a rusting refrigerator. Upon entering the room we presented our passports to a tired looking woman seated at the main desk who sighed as she painstakingly wrote down all of our information in her bulky notebook. Turning around in the small and crowded room, we squeezed past the waiting travelers and approached the second desk to offer our bags to the uniformed guard for a cursory inspection.
Jose, our host for the next few days, was waiting for us as promised and taking a deep breath, the three of us ran through the thundering deluge to a waiting taxi. The journey through the decaying streets, which had swiftly become raging rivers, to the waterfront was thankfully brief. Jose produced a number of oversized black plastic bags and deftly covered our belongings as well as himself, loaded them into his bright blue wooden panga and waited patiently while we procured the necessary “festive beverages” at the local market adjoining the docks. Wine, cheese and olives in hand, we boarded Jose’s open skiff for the crossing to Isla Cristobal. The torrential rains continued unabated as we pulled our raingear tight and hunkered down for the final leg of our passage. The 30 minute voyage seemed endless as we navigated through a watery labyrinth of mangrove islets. Arriving at Dolphin Bay, unbelievably sodden yet thrilled to have arrived in paradise, our hostess, Erica met us on the veranda, and showed us to our room where we found our Jose had delivered our perfectly dry belongings. After a quick change, Erica graciously joined us for a glass of wine and introduced us to her three noisy parrots, a bevy of laying hens and 2 large friendly dogs.
After a short siesta, the rains had subsided and we boarded Jose’s wooden boat for a short trip to a neighboring restaurant, perched precariously on stilts over the water. It was a pleasure to revel in the sea that seemed to magically stretch into the night; traversing the heavens. The mild air of the tropics, punctuated by a distant flash of lightening, more wine and an extraordinary meal of fresh fish, coconut rice and vegetables were a picture-perfect way to end our first day.
The following morning the sea and the equatorial sun united to fill our room with an impossibly brilliant light. An excellent cup of coffee in hand, I decided to have a closer look at Erica and Jose’s home. Rounding the corner of the house, I was taken aback to find only a crude fence and lush, impenetrable jungle. Until that moment, I had not considered that Isla Cristobal was “off the grid”. There were no roads or power, no telephone or water, no hospitals or stores. Isla Cristobal is a water community and the only perceptible sounds were the winds and the sea, a cacophony of birds and insects, the occasional crow of a rooster and the thrum of a distant boat passing by.
Locals travel between the islands in cayucos and pangas, some with motors, but most use only paddles. These traditional boats deliver their passengers to school, the market and to work. Jose, who was born and raised on Cristobal, has never driven an automobile. We marveled at his uncanny sense of direction, navigating the winding channels through the thick mangrove islets, which he assured us, is merely second nature to all natives of Bocas. Erica, our vivacious and cordial hostess, grew up in Transylvania under communist rule and immigrated to Canada as a teen. Her obvious sense of independence and adventure brought her to Isla Cristobal two years ago when she risked all and built her lovely home, Dolphin Bay Hideaway, and opened her doors to guests. After an elegant breakfast served on her airy veranda overlooking the sea, we headed out for another incredible day.
Outfitted with snorkeling gear, our first stop was a splendid coral reef in an uninhabited bay. Jose threw out the anchor and after cautioning us not to touch or disturb the reef in any way, pointed us in the right direction and left us to explore on our own. The water was warm and unsullied. We were fortunate to observe diverse examples of coral including brain and elk. It is hard to find the words to portray how incredible it felt; the sun’s rays penetrated the crystal clear waters as we silently snorkeled above the flourishing coral reef among a plethora of living sea creatures including schools of brightly colored fish, barracuda and needle fish.
Reluctantly climbing back into the boat, we headed to Isla Bastimentos and entered a narrow waterway that wound its way a few kilometers through the jungle and into Bahia Honda which is located in the heart of the island. Amid the sounds of exotic birds, frogs and cicadas, Jose pointed out a sloth lounging in the trees a few feet above while brilliant blue and red crabs scuttled along the river bank. In the mysterious stillness of Bastimentos Island, Jose cut the engine and poled the last part of our journey where we tied up at a small platform nestled among the roots of a tree. Proceeding on foot, we hiked along the still and murky river toward a small village. Along the way we spotted a collection of brilliant blue dugouts pulled up on the river bank. The small enclave we passed through is inhabited by members of the Ngobe-Bugle tribe , an indigenous people, some of them still living their original lifestyle, in traditional homes which are constructed from a unique wood called Jira and covered with thatched roofs. After paying the proper fees to pass through their village, we continued on through cacao trees, laden with their rich red bounty and on towards “the cave” which is a few kilometers in length. The opening of the cave alone was daunting, and I was only willing to venture less than 25 feet into the grotto which houses thousands of fruit bats peacefully dangling from the roof of the cave. The air was chill and dank, the floor slippery with guano. We made our way back to the boat and traveled back up the river and around the island to Magic Bay where we found a well maintained trail which took us across the island to Red Frog Beach (named for the red poison dart frogs that inhabit this part of the island).
The beach was too crowded for our liking though we opted to go for a quick swim before heading to “Roots”, a fantastic local restaurant that serves traditional Caribbean/Creole food. Jose tied up to one of the pilings beneath the restaurant and we climbed a rickety wooden ladder that led from the water to the dining platform above where we enjoyed local musicians, ice cold beer and the best fish that I have ever tasted in my life. Sated with an excellent meal, the sun and the sea, we headed back to Dolphin Bay for a quick siesta and then out again later for dinner on the water. Our last day was spent quietly. Jose went off to play baseball (his team won) while Erica accompanied three of her latest guests to a coco plantation. Michael took advantage of the pristine waters in a dugout canoe and I read all day…..delightful. Living off the grid is obviously not for everyone but I envy the life that Erica and Jose enjoy and thank them for sharing it with us.