Babysitting My Black Buddy Jesus, Cartagena

Wesley Snipes is Jesus. Gods own son. At least that appears to be what I'm looking at. Wouldn't thatpiss off the purists. This must be some kind of accident. His sorrowful, more bewildered gaze stares back into my sombre expressionless face with a chilling precision. I manage a wink & blurt out a little chuckle; the novelty speaks for itself. Why should this be such a strange encounter?? And why is there a second idol depicting a very deliberately placed white Jesus, arms extended out to the masses in your typical Christ like fashion, hanging high above my black friend here, who looks like he's been digging about on the streets all day for no more than a spare dime?? Lucky for him someone decided to decorate his purple robes with pre-packaged kangaroo badges. Wes, I'm impressed...you're quite the trend setter.

There are various stories surrounding the origins of the Portobello Black Jesus, which now resides in the local church of the small Panamanian coastal town. Some claim it was dumped by a ship attempting to save weight before sailing into a fierce storm, which inevitably met its doom. Others dispute it was sent to the town by accident, and when the exchange was to be rectified, great sickness plagued the population until they hastily partitioned for its return. Whatever people choose to believe, every October worshippers come from all across the country (on hands & knees sometimes) to give praise to the magical powers bestowed on the Black Jesus. And I mean why not hey?? Roman Catholics perform exorcisms to evict invisible invasive demons, Jehovahs might refuse a life saving blood transfusion, Muslim women succumb to that Islamic niqab & Jews choose cut off the end of their dicks at birth. What ever floats your boat I say. I always despise the fanatics, and dread the never ending discussions. Someones always bound to get a little fired up...a little feisty. Hereby, please let none of these nutcases reside for the next 5 days on my sailboat. This would help me smile a lot.

The Portobello Black Jesus

I felt a bit robbed by the time I got to Portobello. A few days before - lounging around endlessly for hours in Panama City, between eating pineapple, Israeli leftovers & playing ping-pong - I met some pretty cool fellows making the same journey across the San Blas & over to Colombia. I was hopeful we'd end up on the same ship. All was not meant to be, so I left my comrades to continue their jolly journey without me, after one too many rounds in your standard Portobello dive. This one did at least snag a view of some sinking forgotten yacht far out in the bay. Later on I met my future posse to be. That yacht screamed out like the perfect metaphor for my ugly sinking optimism. I tried to introduce myself, but got little more than gruff mumblings in reply. One guy from The States seemed like he would beat his Peruvian wife senseless if she even flickered more than a timidly friendly smile. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun...I crossed my fingers & hoped my good judgement had failed me.

It was a welcome relief when two young guns jumped aboard the following day. They didn't seem too wild, but were nice enough. There was also some Swedish guy who had apparently rode his bike from the North Pole all the way to the far Southern extremity, and was finishing off this last short leg in the middle that he'd previously missed! I thought that was pretty cool, even if no one else did. I chose for the better to put my initial first impressions aside, and made to enjoy the adventure! We left Portobello that afternoon, and we were soon bouncing out across the Caribbean. Yes, Bouncing. Errr...I wish I hadn't had all those beers yesterday! My pasta nearly went over the side no sooner than it entered my mouth...

Aboard the 'Wild Card!!'

That rough night gave way to a more than spectacular first morning! Banana pancakes, corn flakes & boat-jumping back flips!! We'd arrived at our first stop in the picture-perfect San Blas Islands!! The serenity could only be disrupted by the deafening wisp of helicopter rotors, circling in from over head. This area is a notorious drug trafficking route, and only a week ago there was a major bust on a sail ship docked at this very spot. The captain had done the bolt and left his clueless deck hand at the wrath of the authorities. "Wooahhh!!" I didn't know rays could jump out of the water, but less than 10 meters away from our friends bobbing heads flew this massive eagle ray, at least a meter high into the air!! Nothing beats nature.

A Kuna Indian Island in San Blas

It felt like I was dreaming. It's often been the case. Sometimes I can't rub the reality out of my eyes. These young kids pulled up beside the boat in a wooden canoe made out of half a tree trunk! A couple of us jumped in around them & pretended like we would flip the thing over, much to their entire grinning-faced amusement. We gave them all some biscuits, before making our way over to their small, randomly inhabited island for a visit. It was odd. One island was packed to capacity with ramshackle huts & jetties, while the others around it (which to me looked exactly the same) appeared utterly empty. The Kuna Indians welcomed us into their homes, displaying an almost touching affability. The kids were teeming for attention. DB got her locks done over by the girls in an almost plat-dread like fashion, while TheSwedeMachine went guttural and had the rest running in playful fear from the giant ogre. Before I left I managed to bargain a lady into selling her cool straw hat crowned on top of her babies head. I got the price down to a respectable level & traded currency. I should have figured that a hat sitting on a babies noggin was not likely to fit on my massive boof...Everyone had a good old laugh over my idiotic vagueness. I think the hat looked good...

Local kids paying us a visit

DB getting some treatment

We spent the rest of the day snorkeling around a ship wreck, before crawling aboard and cranking up the boat party! Things got a little out of hand as always...somewhere down the line I apparently had this harmonica duel with a Portuguese pirate who'd been docked at this one island for over three months, scabbing what he could off the locals & fellow sailors, all the same. I don't want to know why I woke up in a pink too too & fairy wings, or whether indeed it's true I'd been dragged into the bathroom at some point by a 30 year old Canadian lass. It must be that irresistible cougar-catching charm plucking me by the tail once again. I got woken by a pretty intense thunderstorm early on the next morning. Lately I'd seen a lot. As soon as it came, it passed and we pushed on to our next spot where we'd spend the day. If you told a child to draw an island, they would have surely drawn some of these. In the distance I could make out one with a sole single palm tree! Idyllic. Tropical islands as big as a suburban backyard. I even showed the Swedes a thing or two about the technicalities of cricket. It really is a strange game when you think of it.

Picture perfect San Blas Islands

Never show off with another mans guitar. You've been warned. I have learnt. Shit got weird again later on that night when yes...not surprisingly, the topic of religion came up again after a few too many rum & cokes up on deck. It's a shame cause it can sometimes define a person, and shift the dynamics of an otherwise favourable character. "There's no book of Moses" - "Buddhists say that life is suffering" - "I mean, what do you actually believe then??" I choose to stay out of these little tussles until the curtain call. Dude! Who the fuck cares! There are no rules, no right or wrong answers! Your beliefs are your beliefs. There's a huge margin for error. No one is EVER gonna know what the fuck goes on with this world until the day we drop, maybe not even then! Seriously, just go have some fun before it blows up in ya face! You may only live once, might as well make the fucking most of it!!! That I believe was the first stage in my prolonged destruction. Sgt. Peppers wasn't happy.

The tunes came about not long after. I miss the music. I've been hearing the same songs squeezed between Spanish lessons over and over on repeat for the past four months now! For me, this guitar was gold. I must admit this guy was pretty woeful, but he wasn't to know. It's not his fault. Once I had that guitar I simply couldn't stop; instinct took over...and I guess in a way I kind of took over. Balls. I'm a fucking show pony. It's not my fault. Johnny Cash, Creedence, Bobby Dylan, all those late night ravers; the only grouch not enjoying himself was Yosemite Sam here. I can't find the sense in hating someone over such a pity pissy panty-knot, but heck this guy hardly talked to me for the rest of the boat trip. His loss.

We left the San Blas the following afternoon, pumped full of lobster & sea sickness tablets. We had two full days on the open ocean, and again I was feeling like arse. I'm now glad I didn't go through with one guys offer to share costs and work as his deck hand sailing all the way back across the Pacific to the Phillipines. It had sounded fun at the time, and I soon felt like a bit of a pussy. Turned out the SwedeMachine was a pretty funky fella. He ended up keeping me entertained with innumerable (not so tall after all) tales during those long bleak hours swaying in unison with the white-washed seven seas. Not only had he climbed the highest peaks on every continent, rode his push bike from pole to pole & jet skied across the Atlantic...he had built a flying boat out of a rubber dingy & lasagna pots and flew the thing from Sweden to Africa!! If I make it to Stockholm any time in the near future, I'm gonna hold his word to that co-pilot offer he put up for grabs. We arrived into Cartagena late at night, and spent the evening up on deck finishing off any food scraps we could muster & watching the huge cranes load container ships over at the docks. It was a fitting finale to an interesting adventure, and an exciting prelude to many more.

Docklands at night in Cartagena

Now I get to kick about in cool & crazy Cartagena for the next few days, sweating out the toxins before running rampage high into the hills. Bienvenidos a Colombia!! Good morning South America!!

Talk again soon my fellow chums...
Enjoy the good life. xxx