Bocas

My last day in Bocas was a big one. The guidebook mentioned a large cave on Isla Bastimentos that had tours. I had made enquires about the tour, but it seemed it wasn’t a particularly popular option. The señora who ran the hostal made some phone calls and found someone prepared to take me. Another traveller staying at the hostel was keen to go too so we were each quoted USD25 for transport and USD20 for the cave tour itself. A very reasonable price. Or so we thought…

We were picked up and escorted down to the boat dock where we were eventually told it was now going to be USD50 each for transport as there were only two of us going. I misunderstood and thought he meant USD50 all up, but it ended up being on top of the original USD20 for the tour which made it USD70 all up. Nearly double what we were originally quoted! We decided we would still go though and eventually were hustled onto a boat to head over to the island.

We first dropped off some tourists at a dock which led to a popular beach on the northern side of Bastimentos. Then we continued down the island before slowing to a halt in front of a narrow channel leading into the mangrove forest. We waited for a short time for another boat to come out of the channel, then slowly made our way down the serpentine waterway to where we disembarked to start our cave tour.

A large, covered, wooden deck was where groups assembled and information given. The tours are run by local indigenous men who have intimate knowledge of the cave and environs. I explained I was an Australian caver and that I was keen to see as much of the cave as possible. I also asked if there was a map of the cave. To my surprise, one of the guides produced a thin booklet covering a 2005 mini-expedition to the area. On the very last page was a map of the cave.

We were provided with a helmet and light and a pair of reef shoes. I was quite surprised at the quality of the equipment – I was expecting much less. Of course, the rain which had been my constant companion since arriving in the archipelago, had been steadily doing its thing, rendering the trail to the cave a treacherous, muddy mess. Planks and boards were placed in some sections, but in others it was just a case of one foot in front of the other and hoping not to come a cropper. The mud was ankle deep in places and I was glad of the reef shoes.

We eventually reached the cave entrance and instead of taking the usual left hand passage which led to the large pool and a jump-off rock most tourists are taken to, we were taken on the longer, sportier right hand passage. This was exactly what I was looking for. Roughly one kilometre of active stream passage incorporating all the aspects one would expect from wild caving in these parts. Duck unders, climbing, wading, swimming – I was in my element. It was the first time my poor Peruvian travel buddy had ever been in a cave, but he loved it. Rivulets of water cascaded down into the main stream passage at intervals which all added to a magical experience.

The guide knew I was an experienced caver and let me take the lead until I wanted to check out a small converging stream passage. At that point, he decided it best to take control or we would be in there all day. We went to the known end of the cave in that direction and popped out another entrance. Then it was time to return back the way we came.

At various intervals, our guide would stop and sift through the stream sediment to look for shark tooth fossils. These were in abundance in this cave. He gave one to Andres, however, I declined as I thought Australian Border Security would be most displeased on a number of levels with my exotic souvenir should I choose to take one.

I realised shortly after starting down the right hand passage, the guide had left his dry bag, which contained my phone, on a ledge near the entrance. Thus I could only take photos when I was reunited with it almost at the end. In some ways it was a good thing so I could be totally immersed in the experience. On the other hand, I missed an opportunity to record how amazing this little cave was. We exited the cave and were told to make our own way back. By now, the trail was in an even worse condition and we carefully made our way back to the wooden pergola.

Our boat was waiting for us and we slowly made our way back out of the mangrove channel, then out into open water back to Bocas. By now I had been caving for two days in the same gear so washing was in order before leaving in the morning. Then it was a matter of draping everything in front of fans in the hope I could get as much dry as possible overnight.