OFF THE BEATEN TRACK

The yellow skins of the papayas caught my eye as a dugout canoe moved alongside us. Three Guna Indians, returning from harvesting papayas, coconuts and pineapples from their fields on the mainland, had clearly been curious about who had anchored next to their home island of Mamitupu, with its golden sand and palm-tree shade. They nodded to us as they inspected Eastern Stream’s hull and deck, and we decided it was time to go ashore. After beaching the dinghy, we were met by a villager who asked us to follow him to a small house. Inside were the chiefs of the village, the Sahilas, who officially welcomed us to Mamitupu and explained the rules. We were more then welcome to visit the island and look around, but the coconuts were off limits as each one was owned by a villager.

Once we