Maaike Visser – Eendracht Panama, Februari 2026 14th to 21st
Mid-February, I stepped aboard the Eendracht for an eight-day sailing voyage to the San Blas Islands — an archipelago off the northern coast of Panama that few people ever reach. Only a small part is inhabited, and the islands are home to the indigenous Guna people, who have lived here for generations keeping their traditions alive.
No luxury resorts or beach clubs here. Just small islands, simple huts, vivid turquoise waters, and white sandy beaches lined with palm trees. It’s basic — but that’s precisely what makes it so extraordinary. And the best part: you don’t explore these islands from shore, but from the sea.
First stop: Panama City
To ease into the trip, I arranged to meet up with two fellow guests in Panama City. On board the Eendracht, passengers are called “opstappers” — literally “those who step aboard.” That already says a lot. We spent two days in a lovely apartment right in the middle of the city. By day, we explored the city by bike, visiting the Panama Canal and stopping at a viewpoint overlooking the skyline. In the evenings, we met other guestss on a rooftop terrace. Familiar faces and new ones — it already felt like the journey had begun.
On our way to the Eendracht
The following day, we set off by minibus to Portobelo, where the Eendracht lay at anchor. Even from a distance, she stood out, the largest Dutch three-masted schooner. A true tall ship — stately, yet instantly welcoming.
As she was at anchor, we were tendered aboard in small groups. The crew was there to greet us. What immediately stands out is that a large part of the crew consists of volunteers. Only a handful of officers, bosuns, and the cook are employed. The rest are there purely out of love for the ship and for sailing — and you can feel that in everything.
Our cabin (and why it’s actually great)
We shared our cabin with four people: two bunk beds, a washbasin, narrow lockers, and a small bench. It may sound tight, but it was just right. After all, you’re mainly there to sleep. And sharing the space naturally creates a sense of camaraderie. In my case, I shared with women I already knew from previous trips and from Panama City, along with our watch leader, Ilse — which made it feel even more familiar.
Welcome aboard
Captain Otto gave us a warm welcome. The atmosphere was immediately relaxed — many greeted each other like old friends. And that says a lot: a significant number of opstappers return time and again. We were briefed on the week ahead: sailing, island visits, and, above all, running the ship together. Then we were divided into watches: blue, white, and red. I was assigned to the blue watch, with Ilse as our watch leader.
Ilse and the blue watch
Ilse knows the ship like the back of her hand. She’s been sailing here for nearly ten years, alongside her work as a wedding photographer. She explained how things work: watches typically last four hours, during which you do whatever is needed to keep the ship running. That’s what makes the Eendracht so special — you’re not just a passenger; you’re part of the crew. You actively contribute.
The rhythm of watchkeeping
After a first free evening, things properly got underway the next day. We began with safety drills: life jackets, man overboard procedures, working with winches and backstays. Then it was time to lift the anchor and set sail. The coastline slowly faded, and suddenly we were out on the open sea.
During a watch, you take on all sorts of tasks: helming, serving during meals (known as “zeunen”), waking the next watch (“piping” or “rousing”), tidying up, and assisting with setting and dousing the sails. After your watch, you’re off duty. It might sound like work during your holiday, but doing it together at sea is exactly what makes it so rewarding.
Nights at sea
Our first night watch was around midnight. We carried out a “fire and bilge” round to ensure everything was safe. Afterwards, we stood on deck, gazing at a sky filled with stars — nothing but open sea in every direction. It was magical; there’s little that compares. And, as part of Eendracht tradition, there’s also grilled sandwiches in the middle of the night. Sadly, I missed those… thanks to seasickness.
Yes, seasickness is part of it
The first few days were quite challenging. The swell was considerable, and I did get seasick — as did several others. But that’s part of the experience. After a couple of days, you adjust, and with medication or, in my case, a patch, it becomes manageable. Once you’re through it, it feels as though you’ve truly become part of life at sea.
San Blas: the ultimate paradise islands
After several days under sail, we arrived in the San Blas region. We were greeted by Guna women in dugout canoes, dressed in vibrant clothing, offering handmade jewellery and freshly caught fish. We jumped into the water for a refreshing swim, surrounded by islands dotted with palm trees, white beaches, and simple huts — it felt almost unreal.
Exploring the islands
We visited several islands, each with its own character. On the Cayos Holandeses, we went ashore: a walk around the island, a visit to a sailor’s grave, a drink, and a game of volleyball with fellow travellers. Everything here is simple — yet the surroundings elevate it to something truly special: crystal-clear waters, palm trees, and endless white beaches. The tranquillity and absence of mass tourism make it unforgettable.
Lobster, yoga, and dancing under the stars
The final island — Chichime — was the highlight of the trip. We started the day with yoga on the beach. A local girl enthusiastically joined in, which made it all the more special. Then came snorkelling (including a stingray sighting!), followed by a barbecue with lobster, chicken, and rice. Once the music started, everyone let loose. We danced together — even with the local community — beneath a sky full of stars.
Wrapping up together
The next day, we set course back to Portobelo. With all sails set, it was one of those moments where you think: this is exactly why I’m here. The final day was all about wrapping up together: scrubbing decks, tidying, and washing up. And in the evening, the traditional “bonte avond” — a lively night of songs, performances, and speeches. But above all, lots of laughter and dancing. What stands out is how, in just a week, strangers become a close-knit crew.
Back ashore
On the final morning: packing up, cleaning the cabin, one last breakfast, and saying goodbye. Back on land, it felt slightly unfamiliar — with a hint of sea legs still lingering. Then it was back to Panama City, and eventually home to the Netherlands.
Bittersweet, but fulfilled
What an incredible week aboard the Eendracht — and how quickly it passed.
What stayed with me most is how quickly you fall into the rhythm of the sea, how easily genuine connections are made, and how special it is to share an experience like this together.
This was no ordinary journey. It leaves you wanting for more. And so I say wholeheartedly: Eendracht, until next time!
