The Stahlratte Von Bremen--a real and true review of a moto's best friend in Panama

I was not hating life at the moment. I had just spent the better part of three hours roaming the beach, picking through the tide pools, and lounging in the serene warm water of the beach on which we were camping in Nicaragua. Nicaragua! What a spot. The Mind The Gap Hostel and Camping was our home there for three nights, while we relaxed and took a few days to catch up with life. Bills paid, emails returned, and blog posts underway, Josh surprised me with some news--amazing news.

The Stahlratte was held up in Cartegena, and would have to adjust its schedule accordingly. There was a chance we could make port, and sail with the bikes. He also emailed the captain to find out if there was room for two more--there was!

A few days prior to this, when we entered Nicaragua, we ran into a young woman and her friend traveling from Denver in her Subaru. We chatted as we all had to wait in different lines first in Honduras, and then in Nicaragua. One of the topics of conversation was how we were all planning on getting from Panama to Colombia. If you had a public education like mine, and are not an adventure motorcycle rider, you may not have any idea that although the two countries touch each other (Mom...Colombia's touching me!), there are no roads that will get you from one to the other.

"Really!?!"

That was my reaction when I learned about it a bunch of years ago, though only in my own head so as not to let on to anyone around me that I didn't already know of this. The Darien National Park sits on the land in the east of Panama, and it encompasses a huge area of jungly-swamp, which used to be occupied by guerillas--this was not a place people tried to go. Over the years, a few brave souls have attempted, and even succeeded, to get through, but the stories involved machetes, people carrying motorbikes (I'm no expert, but I think you're doing it wrong...), and no doubt lots of snakes and bugs (Ick...).

So, if you're traveling through the area, how do you go about getting yourself, and potentially a vehicle, from one place to the other? There are a number of ways, and we researched them all. And by "we", I mean Josh. Josh researched them all.

You can fly. And your bike can fly. Not together, but typically within a few days of each other. We looked at this option. It is fairly expensive, and can be a bit of a pain to get your bike to the right place, loaded, and later unloaded. But, it's definitely quick.

Or, you can fly and you can put your bike into a container to be shipped via freighter. This is expensive if you use a full 40' shipping container for only a bike or two. However, if you can find friends with a car or a rig to share the space with, it suddenly begins to get more reasonable. Once again, however, it can be a bit of an ordeal to get your vehicle back. All parties who own something in the container must be there at the exact same time before they will open the container in port--your new friends better be reliable.

Another option, which is still a bit pricey, is to put yourself and your bike onto a sailboat. There are so many reasons why this is an appealing option, one of them being that the bike is always with you, and it's very easy to get it off the boat and back into your own hands. This is NOT an option for cars/trucks/rigs--bicycles and motorbikes only.

There are a number of different sailboats that do this, but the most well-known in the adventure moto community is the Stahlratte. A 38 meter-long ship, she can carry 21 motorcycles and passengers. Over the years of getting ready for this trip, I've seen a few posts here and there of people I "know" on Facebook making this trip. The pics are always fun, and it looks like the riders are all having the time of their lives. However, I was always under the impression that in order to sail on one of these ships with a bike, you had to reserve months in advance. That straps a rider down to having to be in Panama on a very specific date. I just couldn't make that kind of commitment!

But, here was Josh, telling me that not only would we be in Panama at the same time, but there was available space. My immediate reaction was, "Oh, hell yes!" Though he needed to spend a bit more time comparing methods, he eventually came around to wanting to also. We emailed all the info and paperwork for ourselves and our bikes, and sent a deposit off via PayPal.

We would be loading November 3, and sailing November 4. I was stoked!

But then, I started to do a bit more research, and I found out real information on it. I found that I did not have nearly the entire story. Knowing she was a working sailing ship, I assumed that when you booked passage, you also became a working crew member. I figured we'd load the bikes, return the next day to load ourselves, then start three solid days of sailing, doing our share here and there.

I was so wrong!

Here is what the experience is really like...

Heading out from Panama City on the morning of Panama's Independence Day--we flew the Panama flag

Friday, November 3 was Panama's Independence Day. We rode out of the city, heading towards Guna Yala, the port for the formerly-known-as San Blas islands, flying Panamanian flags on our bikes. A few kilometers out of the city, while stuck behind some particularly slow traffic, I noticed a lot of aftermarket lighting behind us--a 1200GS had caught up. Out that way, I remarked that he was probably on his way to the Stahlratte, as it was probably a safe bet. He must have thought the same as us, and when I rolled on the throttle to pass a couple of cars, I looked back to see not only Josh, but the other rider keeping up.

I thought it was fun that we had another rider joining us! A little ways on, we were once again moving very slowly behind what I could see were three or four cars behind a larger truck. As soon as we got to a straight area where I could pass, I very quickly made for the front of the line. I could see for a long way, and knew that all three of us would easily make it if I just hauled ass up there and they followed.

So I did. And so did they. And as I really looked at the car directly behind the bigger truck, I said, "Oh shit! It's a cop..." And as I dropped back into our lane in front of the truck and the other two followed me, I saw the cop's lights flashing.

Me: Oh god, his lights are going.

Josh: Maybe they are always going...

Me: He's not passing the truck yet (though at that moment all the traffic behind us was shuffling to get further ahead in the pack)

Josh: Don't stop...

I'm not going to. Oh crap, I really hope I didn't just get us and the new guy arrested...

And I didn't. I may have passed a cop doing 120km/h in an 80km/h zone, but they didn't seem to care. Later when we had to stop for traffic and Josh hung back and introduced himself to the new guy, I told him to apologize for almost getting him arrested. Our new friend, Benjamin, didn't seem to care--though, as it turned out, he was French, so maybe he just didn't understand--and the three of us rode on to the port.

Twenty-one motorbikes all waiting to be loaded onto the Stahlratte

We met up with the other eighteen bikes and nineteen riders. We all chatted and tried to find shade, while the Stahratte waited off shore. Soon, the captain, Ludwig, came to shore. He introduced himself, gave us some info, and asked us to get the bikes onto the dock and get our luggage off. Josh and I didn't hesitate, and our bikes were first at the end of the dock. Soon, the entire dock was filled with motos shining in the sun, and riders, trading stories and laughing while pulling luggage. We quickly fell into the habit of working together while we handed down the luggage to the small motorboat that made multiple trips to the ship with our gear.

Stripping the bikes of their luggage

So much luggage, and my friend Eckart from Austria--he was riding a KTM 1290

My friend Peter, from Germany, who was riding a R1200GS

When the luggage was safely aboard the Stahlratte, two more boats came to get all of us. We boarded the Stahlratte, and were soon pulling what we would need for the next three days from our luggage, and stowing the rest in a couple of closets below deck. The amount of luggage that came from those bikes was phenomenal, but we were done within about twenty minutes. After a delicious lunch up on the deck, we were on motorboats, headed to Porvenir Island. That is where we would spend the night.

Our first day and night felt seriously action-packed. First were the couple of hours of ride, then meeting twenty new friends. Hauling the luggage around was slightly exhausting, and then flying across the Caribbean to our (nearly) private island for the night. As soon as we arrived, our hosts at the Hotel Porvenir got us all shown to our rooms. We quickly changed, made friends with the hosts while buying beers, and headed for the beautiful white sand beach and into the warm, clear water. Coral and fish abounded, and for a person who really isn't in love with swimming, I spent the better part of the next three hours swimming around, amazed by all I saw.

Relaxing on Porvenir Island after a long, hard day of swimming and walking the beach

Josh wore himself out relaxing, so needed a nap

When Josh and I finally dragged ourselves from the water, we hit the hammocks pretty hard. I'm telling you, it is exhausting spending an entire afternoon on the beach. We drank Panamanian beers, swung lazily in the shade of the island trees, and did nothing more than smile at our new friends, two and three hammocks over. Eventually, we dragged ourselves in to change for dinner, and met up with everyone again.

Dinner was delicious! I mean, really delicious. The fish...oh, gawd it was so good! I. Ate. Everything. After dinner, and another hour or so hanging out on the beach, we headed for bed. The next morning, the sun shone across the water, and we saw the Stahlratte waiting for us. We were gathered in three dinghy-loads of passengers, and deposited on board in time for breakfast. Josh and I, along with an Australian named Paul, had volunteered for clean-up duty after that breakfast--things was the "work" we were asked to contribute. That's it. One meal's worth of dishes, and we were free.

Bunks on the Stahlratte--singles and doubles

Everyone searched for their bunk, waiting with a little label to tell us which was ours. For being 22 people plus 4 crew, the bunks were surprisingly spacious

Josh and I immediately headed to the net below the bowsprit to relax in the sun. And watch dolphins. Dolphins played below us in the bow wave, springing out of the water, bobbing over the top of each other. This was suddenly our vacation from our vacation. It didn't suck.

Dolphins!

We had pulled anchor right after breakfast and began motoring towards the outer edge of the archipelago. Three hours later, we found ourselves dropping anchor and thinking about lunch. In case I forget to mention it at any other time, we did not go hungry. And the food was delicious. And this is coming from a woman who, when not in control of her own food/meals, assumes she will starve because she won't be able to eat enough. This was not an issue.

Vacation from my vacation

Rope swing!

After lunch--and an appropriate amount of time, because we all know what our moms told us about swimming right after eating--we all hopped into the water. We were anchored off a beautiful island, in clear water that was so salty, we just floated. A bunch of people swung off the boat on a rope, some went off to another island to do some snorkeling, and some swam to the shore of the closest island. It was a lazy, fun day in the sun and water. We stayed anchored there as people slowly filtered back on board, rinsing the salt from their hair, and rlaxing on board again.

Dinner came next, though don't be concerned. There had also been afternoon snacks. Anyway, dinner was served, and after clean-up was over, we pulled anchor and made for Cartegena. It would be a solid 18 or so hours of motoring, as the wind was nearly non-existent in the Caribbean at that time. This would be the one big downside for me. Having grown up sailing, and even having done some more in the recent past, I was looking forward to heading across the Caribbean under sail. Sadly, it was not to be.

The next day, people slowly woke up and came above deck. Most of the people on board had a bit, if not quite a bit, of seasickness. I wasn't feeling terribly great after breakfast, so I went back to our bunk, took some Dramamine, and snoozed until it kicked in and my seasickness wore off. I am the only person I know who loves to sail, gets seasick, and just doesn't care. Usually, it only takes a bit of time, or a single dose of some good drugs, to kick my sea legs in and make me feel better.

Our captain, Ludwig

Later in the morning, I joined my shipmates again, and we spent the day chatting, lounging in the sun, and playing dice and card games. Of course, the meals and drinks were ever-present as well. Cokes and other non-alcoholic drinks were all included. Beers ran guests a dollar each, and a bottle of Cuban rum cost $20.

Baz from the Netherlands and Charlie from Toronto/Detroit

As the sun began to set, we spotted land and came into Cartegena with the city's lights blazing in the sky. The city was lovely. We had a final dinner together as a group, including fish and lobsters caught in the waters we were sailing through. We enjoyed the food and each other's company under the night sky, Cartegena's skyline welcoming us as a twinkly backdrop.

That was Sunday night.

Monday was a holiday. Though we would have typically disembarked that morning, taking our bikes and paperwork with us, the holiday made that impossible. We would have the day to ourselves in the city, then reconvene on the dock the following morning. We were picked up and deposited back onto the Stahlratte at 7:00 Tuesday morning, and quickly pulled anchor to head to the pier where we would off-load luggage and bikes.

Spending the day wandering Cartegena's old town, we found a Botero sculpture

We all pitched in to get luggage back above deck and then off the boat. Then, as we were organizing our luggage in the port, the crew along with some local hied help, off loaded the bikes. I felt really excited in a silly way when I got to ride my moto down the pier to my waiting luggage. This was a fun adventure.

Josh was less excited.

As his bike came off the Stahlratte, and he got on and turned it on to ride away, he noticed a sizeable dent in his tank. His bike had been in perfect condition when he left it on the dock in Panama, and now it had a dent that had already, thanks to the salt air we had been sailing through, begun to rust. He was very disappointed. To the captain's credit, when Josh pointed it out to him, he said no problem--send him the bill.

But, that was just the start of the group's problems. Another rider's R1200GS was dropped on the pier as it was being unloaded. I don't believe any real damage was done, other than scratching up some crash bars. But, still...

We all got our luggage put back on, and were instructed to head to the Cartegena Aduana office. Typically, all immigration and customs paperwork is handled by a fixer prior to the Stahlratte arriving in port and unloading. Travelers usually walk off the boat with all the paperwork they need, including the compulsory insurance we had all paid a premium amount for, in order to have this hassle dealt with. Because we arrived on a Sunday night and Monday was a holiday (as it seems every Monday is a holiday in Colombia...) the paperwork was not done. We all sat outside the immigration and Aduana office that morning, waiting for it to come our way.

Around 10:30, the fixer brought us our passports, stamped and ready to go. Yes, we had been running around Cartegena Colombia without having actually been admitted to the country. No biggie....

Now we just had to wait for the customs paperwork and insurance.

We waited...

...and waited...

the awesome women of the Stahlratte. L-R: Andrea, Germany (650GS single), Maryna, South Africa/Australia (700GS), Christine, Canada (700GS), me, Margaret, England (2-up with her son, KLR 650)

It never came. Eventually, we managed to wrangle our customs paperwork from the fixer, but by 4:00 in the afternoon, the insurance still wasn't there. The fixer fed us some line about there being a shortage of the correct motorcycle insurance forms in the city. We would later find out this was untrue.

Four people in our group would have all their paperwork completely done, while the rest of us would be left completely confused and frustrated. To make matters more frustrating, this was all coming down close of business on Tuesday. That left us all having to spend another night in Cartegena, whether we planned to or not (we had NOT planned to, and w pull in fact never make it to the place we had planned to go that night) and having to fix our own problems in the space of one day. We had Wednesday, and Wednesday only. Why?

Starting Thursday, Colombia was celebrating a four day holiday weekend. Apparently Colombia has more holidays than work days. Hell, I say more power to them, but not when I need to get insurance to be riding my motorcycle legally in their country.

Sadly, though we as riders had a whole new group of awesome moto-traveling friends, and though we had had an amazing journey across the Caribbean on a sailing ship more than one hundred years old, seventeen of us were left with a soured taste in our mouths when it came to our experience.

Josh and I, along with a number of other folks left Cartegena and made for Medellin to try and get the insurance issue figured out. Several people from the trip would never purchase it, and several wound up spending an entire day overcoming the obstacle while still in Cartegena.

From what I understand, this was a completely different experience from what other travelers have experienced in the past. This was not what anyone has ever gone through before, nor have I heard of it happening after. Still, it was shitty for us, and that's how the story ends. Boo.

Well, not quite. When we are home from this journey, Josh will get a quote to have his tank replaced and send it to the Stahlratte. We shall see if the captain's word stands true, and they fix what they broke.

Are you confused after reading this as to whether it's is so me thing you should do? Do you wonder if I would do it again?

I would. The on-board experience was fantastic, and I have twenty new friends to keep in touch with around the world. I am finishing this blog six months after we sailed (I started writing it just a couple weeks after, but got sidelined by other things...) and we still, as a group, keep in touch on WhatsApp. The downsides are somewhat considerable--a damaged bike, and we rode through a country for several days without appropriate paperwork--but everything was and is fixable. I think it was worth it, though I am not super precious about my bike, and my fury about the paperwork issue is long in the past.

If you're planning this trip, don't miss this opportunity. There is not anything else quite like it. If you have questions, email me or post them up in the comments. I respond to REAL comments here!

Me, on my pony, on a boat.

 

 

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