3/31/02 | Monkeying around on the Chagres River

The history of the Rio Chagres is to a large degree the history of Panama. During the Spanish Main era, it was one of the two routes that treasures and travelers used between the Caribbean and the Pacific. Its winding channel and huge floods prevented the original French engineers from building a sea-level canal; when the Americans took over the project in the early 20th century and changed it to a lock canal, the Chagres provided the water to create the huge artificial lake that made the canal possible, as well as hydroelectric power to run the locks. Now the Chagres below the Lake Gatún dam is a quiet parkland, home to monkeys, sloths, birds, crocodiles, and the occasional fisherman and cruiser.

We turned off the engine and put up the sails as soon as we cleared the Colón breakwater. It was a pleasant but short sail, only about an hour to the ruins of the Castillo San Lorenzo at the mouth of the Chagres. Since we don't have a good chart of the area we were using the "not to be used for navigation" chartlet, which it turned out really truly was not to be used for navigation, because we got into some 12-foot depths way too close to some scary-looking breakers before common sense prevailed and we turned around and got out to where we could reassess the entrance. The second time in we picked a better line, and had no problems at all.

Below:  the Castillo (Fort) San Lorenzo. Above:  the mouth of the Rio Chagres as seen from the fort.

We anchored at a bend in the river that another cruiser had recommended to us as a good spot. Two other boats were there already, Cavu (fellow Coloradoans, from Denver!) and Windfree. (Both had been in the Chagres for over a month!) The water barely rippled from the wind, and we sat as rock-steady in the middle of the river as if we were on land. What a nice change from rough, rolly Colón! We spent the afternoon lounging on the boat, watching the troop of howler monkeys lounging in the trees on the nearby shore.

In fact, not a day goes by here that we don't get a good monkey show, either while we're dinghying along the river or side streams, hiking along the network of trails (originally cut by the US Army for Vietnam-era jungle training), or just sitting in the cockpit. We've seen three or four different species. Sometimes they are swinging high in the trees, other times they rest slouched across big branches like dozing cats. We can recognize the capuchin monkeys by their white-furred faces and shoulders, and the large brown gorilla-faced howler monkeys by the eerie noises they make. Of course sometimes all we see is a furry, long-limbed shape swinging out of sight. One morning our hike brought us quite close to a group of trees sheltering a troop of capuchin monkeys, who were none too pleased by our presence. They barked and bared their teeth, gesturing and posturing along the tree limbs, which they ran across and jumped between with astonishing agility. They screeched and threw branches in our direction until we finally headed back out along the trail.

Monkeys aren't the only wildlife in this jungle. On our hike in to the ruins of the Castillo San Lorenzo, we spotted two agouti, large rabbit-like rodents with small ears and no tails. On another hike we were resting on a partially collapsed concrete bridge over a side river, watching a beautiful white hawk that had just flown overhead and landed on a nearby tree, when a river otter popped its head out of the water and looked at us for a few long moments. From the dinghy, we got a good look at a three-toed sloth that Mike and Gloria on Windfree pointed out for us. Dangling by one arm and one leg from a tree along the river, it scratched at its thick grey-green fur with incredibly long claws. Its white forehead, brown-striped mask, and black nose and mouth gave it the air of a sleepy raccoon.

Butterflies surround us constantly while we hike, in all iridescent shades and patterns imaginable, darting and fluttering wildly like mobile flowers. We have also spotted several kinds of birds -- parrots, toucans, hummingbirds, and many more we can't identify -- although we hear far more than we ever manage to see. We've seen tree frogs, black with vivid green spots, and skinny snakes that do a remarkable job of imitating the vines that hang all over the jungle. We've even seen one huge crocodile -- his head alone, all that we could see as he lazily swam downriver, was two feet long. About the only animals said to be here that we haven't managed to glimpse are ocelots and anteaters.

Left: two cute little frogs. Right:  can you find the snake? (Hint:  he's sticking out his tongue.)

We went out a few times on our own, but the trails are erratically marked and frequently overgrown, really just routes rather than actual trails, and it is easy to get lost. For our biggest trek, we enlisted Mike and Gloria from Windfree, avid hikers who have spent a total of nearly six months in the Rio Chagres over the last three years. Last year they became friends with José "El Español" (the Spaniard), who spends most weekends cutting, marking, and hiking the trails. He's taken them on hikes and shown them around the area, so they led us on what turned out to be a fairly arduous deathmarch (just what we like!) up to a hilltop research station run jointly by the Smithsonian Institute and the UN Environmental Program. The research station operates a huge crane, visible from the river, for forest canopy studies. Bits of old concrete WWII bunkers, part of the defense of the Panama Canal, are still scattered around the site.

Left: tangled roots clinging to a steep ledge. Right:  the branched roots of a "walking tree", which supposedly actually moves.

The forest canopy research crane

The Rio Chagres has without a doubt been a highlight of our time in Panama. But it's time to move on; as the strong winter trades give way to the lighter breezes of spring, boats all over the Caribbean are starting to make big jumps, and we will too. After dithering back and forth about what to do this spring and where to leave Windom for the summer, we have finally decided to go back to plan A and continue via the Northwest Caribbean back to the US. Tomorrow afternoon we will set out on the 200+ mile voyage to the island group including San Andrés and Providencia, islands about 80 miles off the Nicaraguan coast, which belong to Colombia. (Which of the islands we end up visiting will depend on the winds.)