After that we climbed into the dinghy and went across to Tai Phou. None of the family had ever been on board an ocean-going yacht, let alone sailed on one.  We knew in our hearts that either something special was about to take place or that we had bitten off more than we could chew and it would be a disaster.

After 30 minutes it looked as though the disaster scenario was unfolding, as my wife Caroline and daughter Madeleine were both hanging through the railings being sick!  Luckily for them the sailing time on day one was not too long and soon we were anchored and heading across to Kuanidup, an island maybe 100 yd by 50 with a small hotel.  The rooms of the hotel are traditional Kuna huts, and everything is very basic.  We had bought some lobsters and crab from one of the local fishermen, who came alongside Tai Phou in a cayuco, a long canoe made from a single hollowed-out tree trunk.  As JC knows the people on the island well, he made an arrangement that the hotel cook would prepare the seafood that we had bought and serve it with rice and salad.  While the food was cooking, we got to know the island and the seven guests who were staying in the hotel.  One family had flown in from France, and there were two couples from Spain.

Madeleine and her big, brave brother Laurence set off to explore and came running back excitedly to tell us about the various pieces of treasure that they had located.  I should explain that we had told them before the trip that we would be visiting a number of pirate islands and that they would need to hunt for treasure.  At their ages, the concept of treasure is a simple one and focused on various bits of flotsam from the beach and some enormous conch shells that were lying around.

Our lunch was fantastic.  I have loved crab and lobster since boyhood, and these were some of the best I have ever tasted, washed down by our first taste of the endless supply of wine.  The afternoon was a lazy one, taking in the sun, playing with the children and listening to the hypnotic sound of waves lapping on the beach.  We were visited by one of the two best mola makers in San Blas.  A mola is a hand-sewn panel of multi-layered appliqué fabrics, each one of which has a different design.  Traditionally, a mola would be the feature on the dress of a Kuna woman.  In our experience, people now use them as throws, make cushions with them and frame the best examples as works of art.

On the second day, JC asked if it was OK to sail to Rio Azucar to try to track down his dinghy (we were using a borrowed one), which had been lost in high winds a few nights before.  He had put out the word that there would be reward and had already heard that the dinghy had been found and taken to a village.  The sailing was made easier for my family by taking Dramamine, and there was no more seasickness.

As soon as we arrived at the village, a man came out in his cayuco to explain that he would act as a ‘broker’ between JC and the finder of the dinghy.  As a new dinghy with cover and outboard motor would run to three or four thousand dollars, it was important that the negotiations went well. Despite some pressure, the broker wouldn’t commit to what he thought a reasonable reward would be, so JC pitched low at $ 50.  The guy paddled off in his cayuco, and JC said that we would follow to the village a little later.

Rio Azucar is a community of about 500 people, and most of them seem to be children.  We read somewhere once that the Kuna are an unfriendly bunch, but I can report that this is absolutely untrue.  When we went over to the village, adults and children wanting to meet us and have a chat mobbed us.  Nobody was trying to sell anything or ask for anything; it was that simple human interchange of ‘hello’, ‘where are you from’ and ‘what are the children called?’  As we walked around the village, we were at the centre of a throng of people.  More joined as the word spread that there were visitors.  Our own children were completely overwhelmed and, if truth were told, a little frightened by all the attention.

When we got back to the jetty we found out that JC had settled on a reward of $ 100 for the dinghy and that everyone was happy with that.  All of the gear was intact too.

On the next day, after a minor diversion to help out another boat that had an engine problem, we headed across to Isla Verde.  This island is uninhabited.  After anchoring we went across to the beach and then walked around the whole island, which took about an hour, what with the children wanting to climb every tree and examine everything on the shore.  Again, on Isla Grande we were struck by the stunning beauty of San Blas and by the serenity.  Although we played music on Tai Phou (and JC has a good collection of CDs), one of my main memories is of the absence of man-made sounds on our trip.  We waded through ‘fields’ of sea grass and watched in amazement as thousands of fish swam in shoals around our legs.  Laurence and I caught some brilliant red and orange giant starfish that were 1 ft (30 cm) across and then watched them speed away on the sea floor.  All around us, pelicans and cormorants were diving for fish.  This, we thought, is not the same as going to Orlando!

In the evening, we invited Jean Claude and Penny over for dinner.  They were a Canadian couple who were cruising for a few days before linking up with relations for further sailing.  JC rustled up a banquet and liberal quantities of the Chilean wine made the event great fun.  For the whole of our time on Tai Phou, we were struck by how friendly other sailors are.

In San Blas there are a number of well-known beauty spots where the boats regularly stay for the night.  Dinner parties and conversations late into the night are common.  Although you don’t need to spend your evenings like this, it is a great way to meet people and find out what brought them to the islands.

Day 4 took us to Chichime, an island with maybe four or five Kuna families living on it.  By now you probably don’t need me to tell you that the island was beautiful – but it was.  We went to visit everyone out of a combination of courtesy and curiosity.  One old man was the ‘village baker’.  He had taken coconut cakes out of the oven just before we arrived and was happy to sell some to us.  The cake was rich, hot and very good.  Constructing an oven on an island where the only natural resources are coco wood, sand and seawater is not an easy project.  On Chichime, the people had salvaged some ironwork from a shipwreck.  A curved section of metal had been placed on another flat piece, and then two additional flat pieces (one of them removable as a door) made up the structure that looked like a miniature aircraft hangar.  The ingenious thing was that the fire was built on the outside.  Overall, the oven appeared to be efficient.  We also sampled the baker’s bread, and it too was tasty.  You can perhaps go too far in getting close to those you visit, and so we decided not to sample the smoked iguana that was hanging in the kitchen house.  It had been prepared as one of the main delicacies for a forthcoming party.

On the beach we discovered thousands of hermit crabs scuttling about, which prompted a family marine biology lesson.  You can never start too young.

The mobile shop visited Chichime during our time there.  The inventiveness of the entrepreneur knows no bounds.  The shop was a large cayuco laden with good covered with plastic sheets to protect them against the spray.  The owner was selling a range of things from eggs to t-shirts, and he appeared to be doing a roaring trade.  The islanders either bought things with the few dollars that they had on hand or bartered with fresh coconuts.

We had chartered Tai Phou for only five days, and so after Chichime we sailed back to El Porvenir.  On our final evening we had a meal at the hotel of octopus stew, rice and guandues (pigeon peas) washed down with – well you know the answer, and started to feel really sad.  JC reckons that a 10-day charter is the ideal.  This allows you to see a lot, and also allows you to focus on sailing, snorkelling or fishing if these are your interests.  Certainly, for my family, five days felt too short.

Now a few weeks later and I look on our time in San Blas as magical.  We all had experiences that would be difficult to have anywhere else.  My family and I are lucky to be living in Panama, and so getting over to San Blas is easy.  If you are interested in seeing this unspoilt piece of our amazing planet, I understand that San Blas Sailing can put together complete packages including travel.

San Blas Sailing can be contacted at http://www.sanblassailing.com.

Malcolm Couch can be contacted at malcolmcouch@hotmail.com.