As we entered Bocas del Toro, the wrath of the old Inca gods descended upon us and sent bucket after bucket of rain down on us. Some claim it was just an ordinary rainy season, others vow by a slight or grave increase of rainfall by the El Nino effect. El Nino is known for its fierce hurricanes, in the 2018 Atlantic hurricane season there were 15 named storms, 8 hurricanes (Beryl, Chris, Florence, Helene, Isaac, Joyce, Michael and Oscar), of which 2 were ranked as major, creating several billions of USD in damages. Once the hurricane season blows over, the high pressure zones are still built up on the Atlantic side and fall down mainly in Bocas del Toro, Panama.
Whatever the reason may be, whichever interpretation receives your fancy, the bottom line was that most of July and August was very wet. Once a week there was a clear day, on most other days it was overcast, and a variety of rain types followed on each other. The jungle was thick and bountiful, with a persistent sweet and earthy smell of decaying leaves and organic materials and a muff smell of proliferating fungi. Certain days, upon observing the rising water levels, we praised ourselves lucky to be living on a boat. Okay, Exodus is not the size of Noah’s Ark, but neither were we facing the ‘grand deluge’, the big flood. It is comforting to find yourself afloat and immune to the tropical downpours. A result of the rain water excesses was that the seawater turned a drab, olive green colour. From snorkeling in the marina we suspected there were quite a few fish around, but did not have any certainty. We bumped into the three resident porcupine puffer fish, several small tropical fish, some lion fish, but you had to get real close to them to be able to see them. Our dive attempts in that period were futile.
As fast as the heavy rains came up, as quickly did they disappear. From mid September, the overcast days subsided and were replaced by clear blue skies and an increased under water visibility. In a matter of days, all the suspended particles in the water settled, giving way for Caribbean and deep blue waters. A whole new world opened for us…
December and January were exceptionally dry for Bocas, where most businesses and houses rely on rainwater for drinking. It was that dry that marinas, hotels, bars, restaurants encouraged their clientele to cut down on water usage and adopted water restrictions.
So in our months here, we have experienced Bocas in its wettest and driest. But then it is good to remember the geolocation of Panama…
Climate change and human evolution – the culprits
Panama is a relatively small and narrow country that upon its emergence from the sea bottom 3 million years ago made a lasting impact on the climate. The Isthmus of Panama started forming under water about 5 million years ago and took 2 million years to construct the land bridge connecting North and South America. Plants and animals gradually crossed it in both directions. The existence of the isthmus affected the dispersal of people, agriculture and technology throughout the American continent from the advent of the first hunter gatherers to the era of villages and cities. The rise of Panama separated the Atlantic from the Pacific and influenced the currents, and the rise of the Himalaya’s had a similar effect on the air flows, therewith causing a gentle increase in temperature and terminating the succession of Ice Ages. Not only did this engender a unique biodiversity where North and South America meet. The flow of the warm currents from Pacific to Atlantic was interrupted and the rainfall was disturbed. Certain regions of Africa dried out, forcing the apes out of the trees and into the savannas in search of a better life… Africa is deemed the cradle of mankind, but Panama and the Himalayas delivered the wood.
Of lessons learned…
As we seriously had our fill of rain during the 2018 European summer months, we decided not to stay around in Bocas for the rainy season. In order to avoid the torrents, Exodus will make way to Colombia. We will leave Bocas early May and return mid September…