Lever turned out to be a very pleasant and knowledgeable person. His first name is William. He is truly bilingual, having been brought up from earliest childhood speaking both Spanish and English.
To our surprise, the Immigration Officer came to us! He spoke only Spanish, so Lever interpreted. When immigration was through, Lever took us by taxi to the Port Captain's office. It was pouring rain by then. The Port Captain asked us if we had a Colombian courtesy flag. This is the first time anyone had ever asked about our courtesy flag and the first time we didn't have one. How embarrassing! He told us we could get one at the marina.
When the Port Captain was through, the same taxi took us back to the marina. This was a much more sedate ride than the ones in Panama City. We bought a courtesy flag in the marina office. It's a really nice one and only cost $10, which is half what we pay in the U.S. for flags that aren't nearly so nice.
We asked Lever where we could buy charts. He said there wasn't a chart store, but he'd try to get us copies of the ones we wanted. He told us to call him at 2:30 on channel 16.
Lever also arranged for our 3 empty jerry cans to be filled with diesel. Roy filled the gasoline can for the generator at the Texaco station by the marina.
We walked around town for a while. Roy is still trying to find a good pair of sandals to replace the ones he has, which are totally saturated with dirty oil from the last oil change. We went into a sporting goods store, but they didn't have any. When we came out of the store, the rain was coming down in torrents. Anyone would be soaked to the skin in half a second in that rain, and the streets were already flooded. Luckily, we were under an overhang and right next to a grocery store, so we ducked in there to buy a few groceries at exorbitant prices.
Weeks ago, I ran out of Junior Mints, my favorite candy. I've been looking for them ever since in every store we've gone into, but no luck. Nearly fell over when I found them in this little store on this tiny island. They were expensive, but I bought enough to last until we get to Florida.
We asked the clerk where we could get plastic rain capes. She said the drugstore next door had them, but they had just closed. (All the stores here close from 12 to 2 for siesta.) The clerk was very nice. She phoned the drugstore and asked if they'd let us in to buy rain capes. They said they would, so I zoomed over there and bought two blue, poncho-style rain capes. Now let it pour! We'll be dry and cozy.
We returned to the boat and ate lunch. At 2:30, we VHF'd Lever. He said he'd meet us in ten minutes, so we paddled ashore again.
Lever took our passports to migracion for exit visas. He said he'd be back in half an hour with our zarpe. He hadn't been able to get any charts so far.
While Lever was gone, Roy went in the marina office to see if they had charts. By a stroke of remarkably good luck, there happened to be a U.S. delivery skipper in there. He had made the Florida to Panama run many times, so he was thoroughly familiar with the route. He took Roy out to the boat he was delivering, and later Roy called me. Captain Tom spread out some good charts of the area and showed us the best route to follow. It will save us a hundred miles over the route we'd planned to take. Then he sold us the two charts for $20. What a lucky break! He wants us to look him up when we get to Miami.
We went back to where we were to meet Lever. The skipper of the motor yacht Liberte was there trying to find his agent, Rene. He told us he'd tried to enter the bay at night and had run aground on a coral reef. Bent his drive shaft and propeller. Fortunately, he had a second engine, drive shaft, and propeller. He managed to back off the reef and limp into port. There are no haulout facilities on San Andres, so he had to have the bent shaft and prop replaced with the boat in the water, no easy stunt.
Lever returned with our zarpe. Now we're all set to leave in the morning. He was happy to hear we'd gotten charts; he still hadn't found any.
Lever charged us $50, which presumably included all the port fees and the pilot, so that was very reasonable.
There's a funny little "train" (bus) that takes tourists around the island. We wanted to ride it, so we took a cab to where the train starts. Cab fare was 700 pesos ($1). Found out the train runs only once a day, at 10 a.m., so we decided to ride the local buses instead.
Walked around trying to find a bank, so we could exchange some dollars for pesos, but all the banks were closed.
We stopped at a juice place for large glasses of delicious, fresh fruit juice. Paid $3 U.S. for them.
Since nearly everyone accepts U.S. money, we decided to see if the bus drivers would. Next bus that came along, we offered $1 for the two of us. That was nearly twice the normal fare, so the driver accepted. We had no idea where the bus was going and didn't care; we just kicked back and enjoyed the ride. Went past the luxury hotels and beaches into the countryside on the north end of the island. Rode to the end of the line and then took another bus back. The second driver gave us 300 pesos change.
This was a much longer trip. The bus went back through town, picking up passengers along the way. They kept squishing on and squishing on. The aisle was completely packed, and there were even people standing on the steps, hanging on to the open door. Roy and I were very glad we had seats. The bus went out the south end of town. Went right past the marina, but it would have been well-nigh impossible for us to get off even if we'd wanted to. Fortunately, we didn't want to; we just wanted to see the sights.
As the bus came to residential areas, people began getting off. Eventually, it was down to a normal bus load. Night was coming on. I thought we should get off and take another bus back, but Roy wanted to keep going. Finally came to the end of the line, and the driver asked us where we wanted to go. I asked him in Spanish if he was going to return to downtown. I thought he said, "Si," but I guess one of us misunderstood. He turned the bus around and took us back down the road a short distance. Then he told us we'd have to get off and take the next bus. Apparently, he was going home and taking the bus with him. (In Central American countries, the drivers own their buses.)
In five or ten minutes, another bus came along, and we got on. By then it was pitch dark, and Roy was getting worried about the Royaks. The trip back was a lot faster than the trip out, since there were far fewer stops. Soon we were at the marina. Our Royaks were right where we'd left them.
Pictures of Isla San Andres
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