“Far away in adventure world”, Panama

    Click—-Click Again.  Not what I wanted to hear. Click—-  not Click RRRRRRRR. Just dead Click. Not too serious if you are sitting at a dock and your boat won’t start, but we are in the middle of nowhere and 75 miles from home. It couldn’t be anything major as I just turned the motor off five minutes ago. Click-  There are fish here and Michelle and I just shot two Bohala and we saw a school of about 8.  This is the only place we’ve found any today. I quickly decided to call Michelle back to the boat even though she just jumped in and wants to dive. The current is running out to open sea and if I can’t pick her up, the next possible rescue boat will probably be going north with drugs at fifty miles an hour. Click—again. I quickly assessed the situation and only the “Click”, and our precarious predicament, took my mind off of the fish under the boat. We were anchored up current, less than 100 yards, from a huge submerged washing rock that the waves are rolling over. If the anchor slipped or dragged we would be on the rocks, in big time trouble. I checked the neutral position, the battery cables, the kill switch and looked for any loose connection.  Click. Then I slipped over the side and went down to check the anchor at 25 feet and found it held by only a small rock that could pull loose with one good tug. There were no other nearby rocks where I could re-position the anchor. The gravity of the situation started to settle in, and I knew we could not swim against the current, nor pull-start a Yamaha 150, there was no one to call on the radio and no kicker on my overloaded boat. As I watched the surge roll over the rocks, I tried to decide if it would be better to jump clear before we hit, or try to ride the boat over the rocks. I realize every time we do these long range panga trips, we are always at risk, but this time we might have gotten too close to the edge.

      Before disaster occurs, the Gods smile on us again, Thank You, and a boat comes into view.  Michelle and Fabio wave their shirts and call for help and when the boat pulls up, it is my dive buddy Edwin Fabrega and two of his friends. Fantastic! They are on their way back to Panama but agree to pull us out of harms way, a couple of miles to the one hotel on the island. Then, when we arrive there, Edwin discovers and greets his outboard mechanic friend, who the hotel has just flown in to fix their boats engine. Totally Miraculous! He tells us to get on a buoy and he will be over to check our motor when he finishes his job. Half hour ago we thought we were done for, and now we can relax and wait for the mechanic. What an incredible relief! I did not want to think of what would have happened in deep water.

    With the pressure off and time to play, Michelle decided to work on her back dive from the side of the panga. Many people don’t like back dives because there is a moment when you can’t see the water. But she goes for it, and when I captured her in the air, I could see the rocks in the background that almost claimed our boat. The back flip that she tried, needs some work, but how many people can stand on their head in the water?

    The mechanic arrived with his bag of rusty tools, no sockets, no screwdriver but he did have a multi-tester. He was great and within an hour had fixed the problem. He changed the ground wire in the motor to another screw and problem solved. He said maybe the ground was not good because of the thread locker, but one minute it worked and the next minute nothing. Click- RRRRRRRR—— what a Welcome sound. Starts perfectly. Paying $20 to the mechanic was light years better than spending days and big dollars flying back to Panama and bringing a mechanic back down on the plane. Our dive trip was not over after all, and we were back in business. WOW. Gratitude.

    One close call was passed and we were ready for a restful night. That was not to be. We could see the storm coming before dark and thank heaven we were tied up to one of the hotel’s sturdy buoys. The night before had been like a lake, but tonight the wind and rain continued to intensify. Within an hour we were back on the edge. As the boat bounced around violently, and the wind howled and the rain and waves pounded the boat, we all held down the tarp with both hands to keep it from blowing away.  I can sleep through almost anything after a day of diving, but not this. I kept peeking out from under the tarp to make sure we were still in position and the line had not failed. Anchored in a small boat at night, in the pitch black, with the elements raging around you makes you feel very helpless. My greatest fear is being awakened by the shuddering of the panga as we hit the rocks and the motor gets tweaked. It would happen in minutes if the line parted and the disaster would be absolute. After a couple of hours the winds started to subside and I could finally enjoy feeling the power of nature at its most basic level.  Finally we all conked out to the sound of the pounding rain, which went on most of the night. Two near disasters in one day—-I have that feeling I am getting too close to the edge.

    Our late wake up was greeted by no wind but long swells. Our first stop was right back at the place we now called “Click”. I did not even dream of turning off the motor. The bait was there, but the waves were bigger and created so much foam and bubbles that we had to drop to at least 20 feet before it opened up. We passed on a few fish under 25 lbs and then a solo Bohala came into range while Michelle was down. She lined up on the fish and drilled it with a head shot—-BAM——. It was a nice fish of 40 pounds. This time of year there are usually fewer fish and they are smaller. Now we had enough Bohala for this trip and it was time to go look for Dorado.

    We finally found a minimal drift line a few miles out, but not many big logs. What we did find was a lot of sea snakes. These snakes looked thicker and blacker and I wanted to see one up close to check out his mouth. I wanted him dead so he could not put a bite on me. I tried a sea snake slice, from the boat, with my fish cleaning knife, but these snakes were too thick and too tough to cut through. I was afraid to put one in the boat alive as I have seen how fast they can move when excited. I decided that maybe this was not the trip to push my luck with the sea snakes but I will be prepared in the future.

    The next thing that appeared on the horizon was a floating 55 gal metal drum. We thought we would do our good deed and start the recycling process by sinking it. We had some great drive-by shooting practice at different boat speeds. Michelle is getting better and more confident all the time. When we got Fabio away from his gangster style shooting, and he started looking down the barrel with both eyes open, he started punching holes in the barrel with every pass. When we can’t find fish to shoot, a barrel is a nice change of pace, but that one is history.

      We finally saw the bluegreen-golden iridescence under a log and jumped in the deep, clear water. There were no big fish but it was fun hunting the flighty, elusive small dorado. We managed to put a couple in the boat and were happy knowing that we had plenty for sashimi for dinner as we badly needed a change from sandwiches.

      We continued on for miles in search of that fantasy, huge, floating tree covered with barnacles and loaded underneath with bait and big fish, but no luck. We did make another interesting discovery however, two good size turtles in the process of mating.  They did not seem to be concerned with our presence and were totally into their activity. It did look like the dude’s technique was a little off, or he was loosing interest, so Michelle swam over to give him a little encouragement. They paid us no attention and when we left they were in the same position.  I later heard the mating process for them sometimes takes hours.

    It was time to head North and get closer to home before nightfall, so the next day’s run would only be about 50 miles in case the weather was bad. We found a new tiny outcropping that held numerous small pargo that would swim under the rocks when approached. To hunt we would swim down and grab a rock and hold as long as possible, waiting for a fish to venture out from cover far enough so that we could take a shot and not hit the rocks. I shot two, and it was almost dark and time to go get set up for the night.

    We had good weather on the return trip but the perfect big logs never appeared. We did have our own personal wave breaker for awhile as we followed a ship that was heading for the canal. We could draft behind real close to the ship in the smooth water, knowing that one thing we did not have to worry about was him hitting the brakes.

    As we got close to Panama we had one last place that we wanted to try since the water seemed fairly clear. We had a new reflective vest that we made for Michelle to see if it would attract any fish. We did not see any effect, but maybe in super clear water, with wahoo it would help. Time to go, so I decided to unload my small gun, with reel, by shooting a small 10 or 15 lb jurel, or jack, at about 25 feet.—- BAM—- I stopped the reel to keep him out of the rocks and after a few seconds I realized this little fish was so strong I could not pull him to the surface with my remaining breath. I motioned for Michelle to come down and help me.  She grabbed the gun and we started up.  Just before we reached the surface the line snapped where it was tied into the spear and that little fish ran off with my new harpoon. No more Jacks for me.

    A few more miles and we were back at the ramp, just inside the canal. The giant clean up of boat, engine, dive gear, camping gear, etc, etc. requires a huge amount of energy, as many of you know. Amazingly, however, at 5 AM we were far away in adventure world, and by 5 PM, same day, most of the gear is clean and we are back in the world of comfort and safety.

    I always feel great that again, we heeded the call for another night-sea journey—- to take the risk, to let go of time, to be awed by nature, to challenge the tempestuous seas, face the monsters and to be renewed and inspired by the transforming natural powers.  I am grateful for each day and every new experience on the ocean.  I am also grateful that tonight I don’t have to think about the wind, the rocks, the anchor, the pirates or the rain. Most important, the last noise that I hear tonight, that “C” word,  when I turn off my light, will just be music to my ears———— CLICK———-.

Dix and Michelle Roper
    Sept. 18, 2008
    dixroper@earthlink.net