Panama - Canal Transit

 

20 March 2004

It was another two weeks before we went through ourselves. The big question was the advisor that one was allocated. It seemed the advisor could make or break your passage. We heard of one German yacht which had had a bit of engine trouble. He managed to fix the engine trouble within twenty minutes, but the moment the engine cut out, his advisor radioed for transport and abandoned the yacht. The skipper was obliged to anchor on the lake for two nights and await a second booking. He was not allowed to leave his yacht and lost his $800 deposit. We all felt terribly sorry for him, and made up our minds to do everything in our power to make friends with, pamper, spoil and generally suck up to our advisors.

On the eve of departure, I telephoned the authorities to confirm our transit, and was glad I did as he also told me that the departure time was 7.30am and not 5.30am as advised earlier. I enquired who our advisor was and groaned inwardly when given his name, as the gentleman we’d been allocated was infamous for being very picky about everything, including his food. We had an American single hander, John, and a Canadian couple, Art and Berenice, helping us as line-handlers. From the outset, Berenice and I made a huge fuss of the advisor, flattering him and plying him with all manner of delicacies. Perhaps we overdid it a bit, because he finally protested that he was not as difficult as his reputation, which he knew all about. He told us his side of the story which was that a particular boat had offered him nothing and treated him like a servant, so he had radioed food and drink in and they had had to pay for it plus the transport. We had a good laugh about that, but continued the grovelling, just in case our engine failed. He was not a particularly good advisor, but happily we suffered no major mishaps.

"He Who Must Be Obeyed"

The trip passed pleasantly enough, though the actual locks were fairly scary.



For reasons beyond our control, we got going very late in the day, and reached the second set of locks too late to catch the last big ship going through.  They normally tuck the yachts in behind the big ships, so although there were five of us yachts, they decided to leave us on Gatun Lake overnight.  I had prepared for that, as indeed one must as there is always the possibility that you will not get through in one day.  I fed the gang and we spent a peaceful night anchored on the lake.  Our advisor went home and returned next morning.  Still no big ships came along, so finally they opened a half lock for us and sent us through.  We were glad to go alone because the big ships can be a pain, actually.  Many of them seem to think it good sport to give their engines a good hard rev when departing the lock in front of the smaller yachts.  The resulting turbulence is very unpleasant and puts enormous strain on the yacht’s lines and cleats. They always did it once, then your advisor would radio them and tell them off and after that they’d behave.

It was an incredible feeling to pass through the last lock and into the Pacific Ocean – desperately relieved to have completed the transit safely and wildly excited to be in the Pacific Ocean for the first time.  The Panama Canal website provides camera coverage of the Miraflores Locks so Mike hung our Rhodesian flag off the back of the boat and we all waved like lunatics at the camera as I had told family and friends when we were going through.  Our advisor kindly radioed the camera attendant to ask her to angle the camera towards us, only to be told that it was out of order that day. Fortunately, none of our fans was disappointed, as no one had got around to watching anyway!

The last lock - Art at the bow

We finally sailed into the Pacific Ocean, passing under the lovely Bridge of the Americas, which connects the north and south American continents.  Mike returned to Colon with Art and Berenice to assist with lines on their yacht Samara II the following day, so in all he did the Panama Canal transit three times.

Bridge of the Americas

We spent a week in Balboa anchorage, then moved further on to the Flamenco anchorage and spent another couple of weeks, meeting and befriending more of the boats with whom we would soon cross the Pacific – Pam and Dick on Aliesha, Duncan, Irene and Huub on Moose, Sebastian and Heike on Kiwitt, Jocelyn and Ruedi on Globitou. The anchorage wasn’t bad, but having no dinghy dock was tiresome and the water was too dirty to swim in, so we were glad when the time came to leave. We shared a taxi with Free Lance and trundled into Panama’s fruit and vegetable market and spent a small fortune. Meat was cheap in Panama so we bought a whole lot of steak and converted it into biltong. Smarter folk than us stocked up on cheap booze and traded it for provisions in French Polynesia (where the natives are actively discouraged from drinking alcohol on the grounds that they don't handle it well).


2 April 2004


We sailed to the Las Perlas islands, forty miles southwest of Panama, where we anchored for a few days just enjoying the sunshine, taking our first swim in the Pacific  (a little cooler than expected) and bracing ourselves for the next leg of the journey – the 1000 miles to the Galapagos Archipelago.