We spent almost a week in and around the so-called Swimming Pool Anchorage, tucked between BBQ Island and Banedup. A lot has changed since our first visit. What was once just a handful of local shacks has grown into a small beach bar and a simple yet heart-warming restaurant run by the Kuna. Add to that the luxury of food being delivered straight to your boat — even large orders from mainland supermarkets like PriceSmart — and it didn’t take us long to understand why so many yachties have been staying here for months, if not years.

Turquoise water, white sand, coconut palms gently clattering in the breeze, birds providing background music… it’s dangerously easy to forget real life exists.

After a particularly enthusiastic homeschooling session on coconut palms (I may now be their biggest fan and unpaid marketing manager), it was time to move on and explore the Panamanian jungle looming in the distance.

Together with our friends from Salty Rascal — a brilliant family of four doing the World ARC — we sailed on to an anchorage near Isla Maquina.

What a change of scenery! We dropped anchor among mangroves, right in front of a dramatic mountain range. Our very first view of the mainland since leaving Gibraltar.

The next day, two Kuna men took us upriver in their boat for a short hike to a waterfall. What an experience! Since the path followed the local water pipe, we had to cross the river many, many times — a very welcome refreshment. At the first waterfall, we all jumped in, swimming in cool, fresh mountain water, surrounded by dense green jungle while big blue morpho butterflies fluttered past.

The speed at which the Kuna move through muddy forest terrain in flip-flops (or thongs, for the Aussie crowd) is nothing short of impressive.

After a short break, our guides took us to their home island, Isla Maquina, and told us about their culture. About 250 people live on this tiny patch of land — 75 of them children — and they were very keen to meet us.

What an experience.

The kids quickly organized a soccer game, which the boys from Salty Rascal and our three eagerly joined. Not a single shared word — but play is a universal language. Before long, adults gathered to watch. It’s hard to put moments like this into words.

It’s important to say: as lovely as the Kuna are, this wasn’t just a joyride. We paid them — and not a small amount — to take us to the waterfall and their village. But we like to think that this kind of tourism helps support the community, and perhaps explains why so many of the children we met were smiling, confident, and well fed.

Life on these islands is incredibly simple — and incredibly effective. There’s a problem? They solve it. No drama, no endless pondering. It made me painfully aware of how much time I spend thinking about doing things instead of just… doing them. And how strange our modern definition of “needs” has become.

I know — it sounds a bit platitude-heavy. But when you live these moments instead of just talking about them, they hit differently. I know I couldn’t live that life permanently — but I can take the lesson of resilience with me. And I hope our kids do too.

Seeing them jump straight into a soccer game with 20 kids who didn’t speak their language (and definitely didn’t go easy on the pasty white Europeans), or eagerly leap into the river to help push the Kuna boat over a sandbank, gives me so much hope. 

It’s crazy how little children need to feel capable — and therefore happy. And equally crazy how often we step in at home and take tasks off their hands because we’re “short on time.”

So yes.

I promise to do better.