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Air Power - 27 Jan



We took our two bikes (Catrikes, 3 wheels) out for a ride. Unlike Santa Marta, Columbia, we went out the back entrance of the marina unnoticed. In Santa Marta, these unusual cycles drew stares. We are used to that. Around
kids in the 10 yr old group and above, you have to stay aware. A cattle prod would be a nice addition to the bikes. After wandering around the national park, which was formerly Ft Sherman, we entered MonkeyVille. With
no responsibility or mandate to the electorate, these primates swing from the trees hurling insults, branches and who knows what else at unsuspecting visitors. (Was that a Snickers Bar?). "Neek, Neek, Neek, come back again,
and I'll taunt you a second time". They were clearly Monty Python fans. Point a smart phone camera, and these cowards retreat to the upper branches. If Rome had these devices around 300 AD, they'd be speaking Italian in Scotland.

After our brush with the winged monkeys of OZ, we headed up another overgrown road/trail heading to what looked like what could have been dormitories, or at least an active part of the base. We passed a sign that
started with Rest.... I'm not sure why they would have placed a restaurant out near some buildings that could be an active military base. After crossing what appeared to be a runway for helicopters, (bigger than a helipad, but too short for a Cessna 152), we cruised through some abandoned buildings. At about the turn around point, we were met by a private guard, summoning the military guard shack. Capitan Jose ....... came to greet us (with revolver still in the holster). Jill's Spanish is a little rusty but very effective. After disappearing for a few moments, the Captain reappeared with a couple of burritos, tacos and plenty of hot sauce. Okay, not really. But we were allowed to transit back to the marina with a stern warning in a language we didn't understand. Restricted and Restaurant are so similar.

This morning we got up at O'dark thirty. For us, that meant being ready at 0700 hrs for a tour to an Embera Indian Village. The ride on the bus was a little bummpy, but we did cross over the Canal. We met our Embera canoe
drivers at the edge of the national park. Each canoe sat about 15 people. The canoes were narrow, so we sat one behind the other. There was one canoe that sat 2 abreast. These 30 ft canoes moved along pretty well with their loads, with 25 hp motors. When the canoes heeled, I felt like I was the only one balancing it. It didn't seem to bother the boat driver or the bowman, who both stood the entire ride. 45 minutes later, we were greeted by music and the folks we came to see. 

It was a 6 hour visit, and well worth the time. We had projects on the boat we felt needed attention, but were reminded by other cruisers, this is why we are cruising. If the project is just a nuisance, just wait.

Dave & Jill

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