Author: Igor

Our next stop was the beautiful Bandera Islands. As we approached the eastern island, we noticed a lively group of tourists who had arrived by small boats. This style of eco-friendly, low-impact tourism is particularly popular among students and young travelers — a great way to experience the natural beauty of the San Blas Archipelago without causing harm to its fragile environment.

After dropping anchor, we quickly located the nearby coral reef and set off to explore its vibrant underwater world. The reef was alive with colorful fish, intricate coral formations, and the serene beauty that makes snorkeling here unforgettable. It felt like swimming through a living painting.

Later, we visited the western Bandera Island, which offered a completely different charm. Here, a quiet, shaded walk under towering coconut palms led us along pristine sandy beaches. The atmosphere was peaceful and inviting, perfect for a relaxing stroll or simply sitting back and soaking in the untouched natural surroundings.

Each stop in the San Blas Islands brings its own special flavor — and the Bandera Islands gifted us with both the thrill of underwater exploration and the calm of a tropical paradise.

Our arrival at Green Island marked a milestone in our journey—it became our anchorage for over two weeks as we paused due to very sad family circumstances: my father passed away in Kyiv, and I went to Ukraine for the funeral. Iryna was staying on the anchored sailboat, taking care of its safety.

Green Island, true to its name, is blanketed in thick vegetation, mostly swaying palm trees that line its sandy shores. A small group of young Guna Yala locals operates a rustic camp here, renting tents to backpacker tourists and bringing a touch of community life to this otherwise remote paradise. The island’s plentiful coconut palms became a natural bonus, allowing us to supplement our diet with fresh coconut meat and milk, which are rich in nutrients and, let’s be honest, pure tropical joy.

Anchored off this lush island, we found ourselves surrounded by a flotilla of sailboats and catamarans for the first time in a while. After the solitude of previous anchorages, we were suddenly back in the vibrant buzz of dinghies zipping around and lively conversations with fellow cruisers. What really stood out, though, was the sense of camaraderie among sailors. Families with young children gathered on the beach, sharing stories and laughter in the shade of the palms, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

This stop also marked our first proper encounter with coral reefs. Accessing them wasn’t easy—breaking waves over the shallow reef demanded careful timing and navigation—but the reward was worth it: crystal-clear water, vibrant corals, and a chance to reconnect with the underwater world.

Green Island may have been an unplanned pause, but it became a chapter of connection, community, and quiet beauty.

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Our arrival in the San Blas Archipelago aboard SV Oceanolog was nothing short of a revelation. After days of solitude at sea and seeing only one other yacht along the remote southern coast of Panama, we were suddenly surrounded by a small flotilla of sailboats. Sleek monohulls and spacious catamarans dotted the horizon and clustered peacefully in the anchorages—like a quiet regatta gathering in paradise.

It felt as though we had sailed into a dreamscape that many sailors long for: the legendary San Blas Islands, a place where time slows down, and nature whispers instead of roars. This was the Caribbean as it’s rarely seen—unspoiled, vibrant, and deeply rooted in culture.

Our exploration began with a stop at Iguana Island, a quintessential tropical gem. Picture this: a tiny spit of white sand crowned with graceful coconut palms, gently lapped by turquoise waters so clear you can count the fish without leaving your dinghy. It looked like something lifted straight from a calendar or travel brochure—only this was real, and we were living in it.

As we settled in, we noticed that it wasn’t just fellow cruisers who populated these waters. Dugout canoes, or ulus, expertly carved from mahogany, glided silently past, navigated by the Guna people. These traditional boats carried everything from fresh fish and coconuts to curious children and trade goods. The contrast between the modern yachts and the timeless grace of the ulus was striking, a symbol of two worlds quietly coexisting.

The islands here are many and varied—some barely big enough for a hammock and a palm tree, others bustling with Guna villages. Each one offers its own unique charm and surprise. And with so many anchorages to choose from, the San Blas invites not just exploration but immersion.

The sudden transition from open-sea isolation to a vibrant, salt-sprayed community reminded us why we sail—not just for the destinations, but for the stories that unfold between them.