Costa Rica - Golfito to Bahia Santa Elena

We departed Golfito on Wednesday, the 19th. We had an outgoing tide, so we were nicely flushed southbound toward Cabo Matapalo, rounding the peninsula to anchor in Bahia Drake.  This is a pretty part of the world.  We had been there, on land in 2009 and I was up for going ashore to explore again, but Barb wasn't in favor of that and the anchorage was rolly, so we pushed on the next morning making Manuel Antonio anchoring in Costa Rica's smallest National Park, just off Playa Espadilla Sur.

Manuel Antonio sunset

 I had thought of a fix for the gear shift on the Tohatsu engine and I took the remainder of the afternoon to work on that.  The next morning I put the dinghy in the water with the Tohatsu engine and found that my fix sort of worked, but not well enough to be reliable.  A small Channel Lock pliers worked as well as anything I had tried so far so I rigged a lanyard for them and tied it to the motor so as we landed in the surf, I wouldn't lose the pliers.  We put ashore on the beach and dragged the dinghy farther up past the high water line and locked it to a tree.  A ranger appeared and with the help of a tour guide as interpreter told us we had to pay for the park and the anchorage.  We knew that was going to be the case and we were prepared for it.  We walked out of the park and into Manuel Antonio and found the Italian Restaruant that Barb liked so much years ago and had lunch.  Then we walked to the park entrance, bought our tickets and paid for anchoring.  With receipts and stubs in hand we toured the park.  The tour guide that helped the ranger was leading another tour and even though we were not part of a tour he would grab Barb's elbow and told her to look in his spotting scope to see the sloths, the monkeys and the birds.  I looked too.  Nice guy!  I didn't know if what we paid for anchoring ($8) was a permit for one night or for forever, but the weekend was upon us and we had heard that there was a sweet cove just beyond Punto Quepos that would be quiet.  We made our way slowly in between several reefs and found a very good spot in which to anchor using the hand held depth sounder.  Several tour boats took their moorings near the reefs and hoards of snorkelers took to the water.  Before sunset they all left and we had the place to ourselves.

Conditions were good the next morning and we thought that we could make Bahia Bellina, crossing Golfo de Nicoya if we felt comfortable.  The wind was good and we got into Bahia Bellina with no trouble, but found that the north anchorage we hoped to use was occupied by another boat and he was rocking enough to convince us to try the south anchorage.  It was calmer, but also close to the village of Tambor where the fishermen were returning with their catch - not exactly quiet.  Their dock had been partially destroyed and there was no way we were going to try bringing our dinghy near the rough concrete.  We elected to just stay aboard.  During the night the wind shifted and increased in strength and the anchorage became very rolly.  We were happy to pull up the anchor and get on our way with a brisk, following wind toward Cabo Blanco.  Upon rounding the point, the wind was now too close on our nose and the current was against us a well.  Fondly remembering the good luck we had had crossing Golfo de Nicoya on Saturday, I decided that we deserved a little bit of humbling as we turned on the engine and motored to Bahia Samara.  We sounded our way and used the cruising guide waypoints to a great anchorage behind a huge rock, Isla Chora.  This time we thought we might experiment with a stern anchor as suggested in the guide book and deployed the eighteen-lb Danforth anchor we had extracted from mud with our own anchor as we left the anchorage off the Naval Academy in 2006 in Annapolis.  We went ashore the next morning, tied our dinghy to a motorless panga that looked like it wasn't going anywhere soon and took the channel lock pliers with me.  We walked the long beach, found a reasonable place for lunch, got a few groceries and fresh vegetables and hiked back to the dinghy.  We timed the surf badly and got a little wet returning to the boat, but all was well.  I had a devil of a time pulling up the Danforth anchor the next morning as it must have been seeking a short route to China over the last day and a half.  Finally, it let go and we began to make our way north again toward our next hurdle Golfo del Papagayo. 

The conditions were such that we mostly motored and we spotted the town of Playa del Coco, where we would clear out of Costa Rica, but we also wanted to get fuel at the Marina Papagayo.  We crossed the mouth of Bahia de Culebra where the marina is located and settled into a sweet little cove off
Playa Pan Azucar on Christmas Day.  This was a good settled anchorage.  The next day we motored up the Bahia de Culebra to the marina took on fuel and met the crews of a few boats with whom we had talked on the radio, Gosling, Nauti-Nauti, and August Moon.  They were headed south so we traded information, charts and I gave Gosling our Colombian courtesy flag.  After a pretty good lunch we left for the anchorage off Playa del Coco.  We got there and lowered the dinghy to explore, but determined that landing in the surf would have been tricky.  I decided I would try tomorrow to hail what I thought was a water taxi.  I raised the dinghy and secured it.

The next day I hailed and hailed, whistled and honked as the "water taxi" made several trips from the beach to various fishing boats and a large tour boat and back, but not to us.  Finally, the fellows approached our boat and we asked to be taken to shore.  We were helped aboard and when we asked what the fee was, one of the men said that we would have to speak to Mario.  Okay, we would find Mario.  We found Mario on a path on his cell phone and he was looking for us.  He said that this was not a water taxi, but he would accept $15 for the ride we already took and assured us we could get a return trip later in the day at no additional charge.  Okay,  I'm sure he was violating some rule of commerce, but it worked for us both.  Following Mario's directions, we found the Capitanaria easily enough.  She handed us forms to fill out and filled out some herself.  Barb hoped that the check out procedure would only involve the Port Captain, but no.  Next stop Immigration, several blocks away on foot.  We stopped in a copy center to get a few copies of our National Zarpe from Golfito in case anyone needed one.  Almost to the Immigration office, Barb exclaims "Our bag, our black and white refrigerator bag!"  Forgotten, but where?  She went back to the copy shop, but signaled no luck, so I went back to the Port Captain's office and she greeted me with a smile and got the bag off a shelf.  I said,"Gracias, haste luego." On to the Immigration office.  The officer there was very deliberate (officialspeak for slow) but we struggled through the process.  Next stop, the bank, to pay our exit fee and receive a receipt to show the Port Captain.  Next stop Aduana, a bus ride to just beyond the airport.  We had no clue that the airport was about an hour away by bus, a pretty fast bus at that.  We were let off right in front of the Customs office, went in, stamp stamp then, examining the customs declaration we brought with us from Golfito, she said that it was a copy and not an original. The process seemed to come to a screeching halt. I said that it was all we had - now what?  She vacillated a bit, but then shrugged and with one last stamp we were on our way.  Well, we were out of her office back on the highway anyway.  An hour bus ride, a five minute visit and now to get back. After ten minutes, one bus for Playa del Coco went flying by even as we wildly waved to the driver who was looking down at the moment as he tailgated the semi-truck in front of him.  Deciding that this was not the best bus stop, we walked (hot sun, whizzing traffic, one kilometer) to the bus stop opposite the car rental lot near the airport.  I crossed the street and asked the attendant if the bus to Playa del Coco would stop there.  He looked at his phone and excitedly said cinqo minutos mas (5 minutes more) and gestured that we would need to wave the bus down.  About forty five minutes later we saw the bus, stopped the bus and were able to board the bus.  In Playa del Coco everyone got out (end of the line) and Barb went to the grocery store while I hoofed to the Port Captain with our bank receipt.  She asked for our Crew List that would serve as our International Zarpe.  I whipped one out of my packet and she said no, the stamped one from Immigration.  I did not recollect such a form.  She got on the phone and called the Immigration office.  She said that he had forgotten to give it to me and that I would need to go back there and get it.  I said, if my wife comes to the office she should rest there in the air conditioning.  Hasta luego.  Returning, finally, we got our paperwork done, had our stamped and paid for International Zarpe in hand and the Port Captain pointed out the line that said the Vessel Clearance was "valid only for the day you get it and the international vessel departure permit expires 12 hours after it is issued, therefore we recommend that you obtain these documents on the same day that you will truly leave Costa Rica."  RIGHT!  A sailboat could reach the border of Nicaragua 55 miles away in 12 hours in ideal conditions, but we weren't!  "The Papagayo winds were blowing too hard."  "We were sick." "We had no depth sounder - equipment failure."  It was 1:30 in the afternoon and a we were hungry.  We went to a restaurant and had a nice meal.  On the beach, we loaded into Mario's newly established water taxi service and returned to the boat, pulled the anchor and left the country - so to speak. 

We went around Punta Mala to a wonderful, quiet, calm anchorage, Bahia Huevos (almost out of the country?  Not yet.) 

Bahia Huevos sunset

The morning of the 28th, following a wonderfully quiet night, we knew that the Papagayo winds were forecasted to pick up, but I wanted to dash around Cabo Santa Elena, a notoriously tough stretch of water and make it into Bahia Santa Elena, a famously wonderful sanctuary if we were going to be blasted.  We motored out of calm Bahia Huevos and the wind began to pipe up.  We sailed with staysail reefed jib and reefed main past Islas Murcielagos and Isla Pelada as the chop began to build a little.

 The wind was actually forecasted to diminish a little around noon and I thought that we could hang out near Key Point anchorage until then.  We hauled in sails and approached the anchorage - without our depth sounder - and I chickened out - Errr, I used discretion.  I reasoned that if we just drifted with the wind at our back without sails we would reach the point by noon, poke our nose around the corner of Punta Santa Elena and then decide to proceed the remaining 12nm or not.  Without motor or sails we were still doing 3kts and got to the point faster than I expected, but we poked our nose out anyway.  We turned the corner and stayed close to the shore, it being charted as very deep water until Punta Blanca where it was charted as 11ft.  There we went wide around the point and it got choppy, as in water-over-the-bow choppy.  I guess that those would be waves. At one point our anemometer recorded 44.1kts of apparent wind and considering we were headed into it at between 2-3 knots that was still really very windy, but I wasn't watching that instrument, only the seas, which really weren't bad, considering. After we cleared Punta Blanca the going got a little smoother and we changed course a little toward land again to better handle the seas.  It was then that we spotted two whales about 100ft from the boat, between the boat and the shore.  Very, cool.  Conditions got better and better and we motored easily into Bahia Santa Elena, choosing a spot to anchor at about 2:30pm.  Another hurdle cleared.

For the next three days the Papagayo wind blew, 34kts on Saturday, 36kts on Sunday, but the boat did not rock at all on the quiet waters within the protected bay.  The boat sailed on the anchor chain in the wind, but we slept well because we felt no motion and became accustomed to the sounds of the wind in the rigging and the trees on shore along with the cries of the sea birds, parrots and howls of the monkeys.

Instruments showing over 30 knots and hardly a ripple on the water (and the DDDS showing nada)

We passed two days aboard reading, doing sudoku, watching the frigate birds, pelicans and hawks soaring on the thermals.  On New Year's Eve, the wind was moderate in the bay.  We knew there was a waterfall described in the cruising guide and we set out to find it.  With bathing suits on we launched the dinghy and made land fall on the other side of the bay on a dark sand beach.  This was still Costa Rica, remember.  We locked the dinghy to a tree and taking our hand held GPS found the creek that would lead us to the waterfall.  There was no trail along the creek!  We rock and boulder hopped and waded the creek several times until, at long last, came to the waterfall with its clear pool.

 We enjoyed the fresh water soak for an hour and then headed back the way we had come.  The tide had risen while we were gone so dragging the dinghy back to the water was only a matter of a few feet.  We motored the length of the bay to investigate conditions outside and the whitecaps told the story.  It was still pretty windy and rough while we were snug inside Bahia Santa Elena.

Happy New Year!  We are headed out of Costa Rica aiming north and west hoping to clear the Papagayo winds of Nicaragua while they are weakening in the next few days.

Headed from Panama to Costa Rica

Under way on Saturday as we steamed out the channel, we saw the English catamaran headed the other way.  I called and described the location of the mooring we just left.  I hope they can handle rejection if it comes to that.

Good bye Panama City

We motored between the islands of Isla Taboguilla and Isla Taboga in the Gulf of Panama and headed to a lovely little cove on the northwestern side of Isla Bona and dropped the anchor. 

We had motored because there was no wind.  Now that it was later in the afternoon the wind came up, out of the north west and made our planned anchorage choppy and with a rocky, hard lee shore.  One mile away to the north was the calm, south facing anchorage off  Isla Otoque. 

We went there with some concern because there was a local fishing boat anchored there and we were traveling alone. 

A calm anchorage.  Beyond the fishing boat is rough water.

Night boardings had been reported and we planned to do all we could to discourage that from happening to us.  The most recent boarding had been reported by a German boat anchored alone behind Punta Chame, on the mainland, about 45 miles away from our present location.  We had the US flag flying and some think that that is actually a deterrent in itself, because in some people's minds, all Gringos carry weapons and are not afraid to use them; violent culture that we are.  Well, we did what we could to protect valuables and locked our hatches, placed our motion sensing lights in the cockpit, zipped the enclosure and locked the companionway.  After sundown the fishing boat got under way, but did not leave.  They circled and circled, casting and retrieving their net while we slept (but it was a very light and watchful sleep.)  We had eighty-four miles to travel the next day so at 0330 we got under way ourselves.  The fishing boat was still working the area, just fishing - for fish - not us.

By noon we were crossing the western end of the Gulf of Panama, approaching Punta Mala.  I was trying to time the tide so that the current was with us and the little wind that was blowing was with us as well.  What can be the worst stretch of water on the Pacific coast of Panama was very good to us that day and we reached our planned anchorage at the popular surfing cove, Ensenada Benao with time to spare before sundown.  Along the way, however, our depth sounder acted up, showing only 24.9ft of water where there was nearly 200ft.  A factory reset recovered the depth for a moment and then it was lost again.  I turned off the electronics until we approached Punta Benao and when I turned electronics on again the sounder behaved as it should, showing we had entered the cove and showing that we had chosen to anchor in about eleven feet of water at dead low tide.  It was a pretty spot, but a rather rolly anchorage and we were happy to be on the move soon after sunup Monday.

Again, with little wind, we had about fifty-four miles to our next anchorage still traveling along the treacherous Azuero Peninsula and rounding it to Ensenada Narango.  Even though there was little wind we were pleased that the conditions were mild. Since we were motoring, ran the water maker again. After about three hours, the depth sounder quit again.  Factory resets did nothing to help so I turned electronics off again.  This time however, when I turned them back on as we approached the anchorage, the sounder did not come back on.  Barb said that she would reach off the swim platform with our handheld depth sounder to find our way to the anchorage.  After almost reaching the anchoring location the depth sounder suddenly came back to life and agreed with Barb's depths.  No explanations!

Ashore we could see a couple of orange trees with fruit, some goats and some dogs.  No houses, no people.  I began to dig into the sounder problem, following the hints given in the owner's manual.  I think that will be a subject for a separate entry in the Blog that you may elect to avoid.  This anchorage turned out to be somewhat rolly through the night so it was easy to wake up and be on our way.  The DDS (damn depth sounder) worked as we woke up the boat, but I didn't want to press my luck.  We turned off the instruments and proceeded using the iNavX application on the iPad .  iNavX uses Navionics charts that are better than what we have on our chart plotter anyway.  We rounded Isla Cebaco, turned North and approached the reef around Isla Santa Catalina. I held my breath as we turned on the instruments again.  The DDS came on and we found our way into a very nice anchorage for the night.



The next morning the DDS became the DDDS (damned dead depth sounder) because it won't work at all.  But this was 12/12/12 and that felt auspicious, so we headed out intending to reach Islas Ladrones before dark.  As we approached Islas Ladrones in the waning light I thought that it would not be prudent to attempt this anchorage without the sounder and without better light, so we pressed on through the night and approached Golfito, Costa Rica at dawn.  We followed the waypoints in the Sarana Guide, Explore Central America!-Part 2, to enter the harbor and as Barb reached to the surface of the water with the hand held sounder we knew we were anchoring in twenty-two feet of water at just after high tide right in front of Land Sea Marina.  I switched the outboard motors on the dinghy from the 8hp Nissan to the 5hp Tohatsu, because I hadn't run that engine yet.  It started right up, but as I moved the lever to put the motor into forward the lever came off in my hand.  The twenty-year old plastic part had disintegrated.   I switched engines again and we dinghyed ashore at Land Sea with our documents to begin the process of checking into Costa Rica.  Katie was loads of help with directions and instructions.  Dinghy privileges are $5/day and that includes use of the lounges and showers.  We found an ATM that gave us 50,000colones (+/-$100) and we continued walking to the Immigration Office.  The officer filled out a great deal of paperwork and gave us instructions and copies of the paperwork to deliver to the Quarantine Office (Agricultural Inspection), Aduana (Customs) and the Port Captain.  We walked a good distance along the shoreline and found that the Quarantine Office was locked.  We got a cab to take us to the Duty Free Zone and a guard directed us promptly to … the wrong office.  The nice lady in the office walked us past the guard and to the correct office.  We were doing our best to communicate, but it was very plain to everyone that our Spanish was almost, but not entirely adequate.  Yet, everyone was willing to try to help the ignorant foreigners.  Another foreign aspect of the day was that the offices were decorated for Christmas and it was sweltering hot outside.  We grabbed a collectivo, which is a minivan having a capacity of "one more" that drives a set route like a bus, but stops where you wish to pick up and drop off passengers.  They are how the locals get about and they are cheap.  Barbie asked the driver if they were going by the Capitania de la Porta and the driver gave her a puzzled look.  Barb realized she had just asked about the Captain of the Door.  We all laughed and she corrected herself, Capitania de Puerto (or just Capitanaria would have also worked.)  The process is all part of the adventure.  Walking back toward the boat and stopping at the Quarantine Office yielded nothing, so we were almost checked into Costa Rica.  We stopped for groceries at adequate super markets and a great fruit and vegetable market.  Golfito is a convenient anchorage with leg power as the only required form of transport once ashore.  It is very hot, however.  The wildlife seems to enjoy it none the less and the howler monkeys tell everyone and everything so.

The next day, after a howling squall went through with us ashore, I saw that our quarantine flag was trailing in the water and that our flag halyard had parted below the Costa Rica courtesy flag (still flying).  I took that as a sign that mother nature had cleared us into Costa Rica.  The WiFi was pretty good at Land Sea for $1/day.  I spent a great deal of time e-mailing a very patient Raymarine technician named Winston about our DDDS.  He walked me through the testing of the depth sounder, its wiring, terminators and connectors.  All that I tested seemed to be within acceptable ranges, so the problem must be within the depth sounder itself or the communications chip in the display unit or in the through hull triducer/transducer.   I shall bring the unit and display with me in luggage back to the US for repair in the future.  I will try to obtain an inexpensive, stand alone depth sounder to run along side the dead one as soon as possible.  Our favorite eatery was the diner, Restaurante Buenos Dias, with good food and large servings at a cheap price.  It is located opposite the gas station.  The marine store had no depth sounder unfortunately.  Our laundry was done, I had climbed the mast to repair the flag halyard, my Interneting was finished enough so it was time to move on.  I visited the Port Captain and got our National Zarpe (clearance papers) to Playa del Coco.

Moored Six Days at the Balboa Yacht Club

The Balboa Yacht Club does not allow dinghies at their dock, but they do run at least one launch 24/7 on request , more often two.

The launch operators quickly came to associate our faces with our boat so we had no trouble (exercising some degree of patience) getting picked up and dropped off and tipping the pilot.

Where the pier meets land, the club has a laundry room, (three washers, three dryers; 50 cents and 75 cents each) two men's and two women's shower stalls in separate rooms that are reasonably maintained except for the men's stall on the left.  Once turned on, the hot water valve was inoperable so when I finished my shower I was unable to turn off the hot (scalding hot) water.  I approached one of the fellows who hang out around the area and said, "L'agua caliente no…alto" and I made a cutting motion across my throat and pointed to the shower.  He hopped up, went in to the shower stall, slammed the valve inward and then twisted the valve closed.  I smiled and gave him a thumbs up.  He smiled, nodded his head toward the shower and said one word, "Mal."  I said three words, "Si. Mal. Gracias."  I used the shower on the right from then on.

Princess Lines next to a neighbor Island Packet.  Two handsome vessels.

A not so handsome, but a utilitarian vessel.

One morning it was declared to be laundry day, but when we arrived to do two loads of wash a woman had just arrived and was planning on doing five loads.  Most cruisers would have taken two machines and left one for someone else, but this woman was going to do all her wash before us.  Okay so she took all three machines and when they finished she could have two and we would use one.  I went back to the boat and collected our seven, five-gallon jerry jugs, tipping the pilot, I filled them with diesel fuel at the fuel dock, emptied two into our fuel tank to fill the tank, returned to the fuel dock with the two empty, filled them, returned them to the boat and returned to the laundry room.  Had the fox eaten the goose while the rabbit was crossing the river on the ….?  Don't ya just hate those logic riddles?

One of the machines had finished and the woman was no where in sight, so while Barb went to find her, I emptied the woman's wash into a dryer and started our first load in the washer.  Of course, the woman also took all three dryers so when our first wash load finished, I stacked it on top of one of the dryers and told her that our load was going into that dryer next and we started our last load of wash in the machine we had just emptied.  When Barb stepped into the room again the woman told her she would have to wait until she was all finished before loading the next dryer and heated words were exchanged during which Barb was called a bitch.  The woman's English was much better than our Spanish.  The woman left to find Tito, who referees the area and when he came, he just shrugged his shoulders indicating that he did not take sides in a cat fight, I guess.  One of the dryers that the woman had used finished and she put her hand in, withdrew nothing except her hand and put in 75 cents more, giving us a dirty look and left the room.  I noticed that the dryer was not running.  She had not pressed the "Start" button.  So I did and it started.  And of course, when the dryer I was waiting for finished she was no where around.  I emptied the dryer and stacked her laundry on the table then loaded our wash and Barb started it.  When the woman returned, she again lit into Barb, but I said I was taking the next dryer and I did and, that even though she put more money in her first dryer, she hadn't started it and I did that for her and I emptied the dryer for her.  I was doing her laundry for her.  She asked if I thought she was someone's maid.  I said I didn't think about her at all.  I was just trying to move the process along and finish our laundry. Later the woman, seemingly finished, had Tito cart her loads of laundry down the pier as she followed.   Passing on the pier, she said that she was sorry for the disagreement.  I said it all came out in the wash.  Barb always brings plastic garbage bags to put the laundry in in case it rains and as I returned to help carry a bag, in the rain, I noticed that there was still laundry in a dryer and I knew it wasn't ours.  I wonder if the woman forgot some? 

It was interesting to observe that this Latina was giving the Gringa no quarter, but to what I said and did, she deferred.  In a grocery store Barb had seen some young Latinas attempt to cut in front of an English woman, but they were rebuffed by a direct, stern, loud "NO!"  The Panamanian women seem to have no problem trying to bully foreign women. I have stood my ground (without negative consequences) in situations with men.  Once, I deferred when I was next to pay for the fuel I bought at the marina and a local fellow walked up and did business before I did.  I let that go.  I thought it best to not crap where I eat.

We were fueled up, gassed up, propaned, provisioned and we had clean clothes.  Reason enough to leave the next day, Saturday - Panama's Mother's Day.  It was a good thing I stopped in the office at the end of the pier.

Karyna and Carrolina said that the office would be closed on Saturday for Mother's Day, the day when the mothers stay home and cook for all the relatives.  So they made up the bill, which I paid with a credit card. Then Karyna made out a receipt that I was to take to the dock master.  He gave me a receipt that I took back to Karyna and we were then free to leave on Mother's Day.  Panama is BIG on paperwork and most of it is done free hand on paper forms using battery powered calculators to figure the costs of things with fees and taxes included.  The only thing that seemed high priced was what we paid for fourteen-gallons of gasoline; $70 and change including tax and delivery charge.  The same guy charged $12 for the propane that he delivered the day before and that was more than fair.  We are merely guests in the country so we pay what is asked, but don't hog the laundry room and don't try to cut in line!

Friday evening we heard a polite English captain on a catamaran call for a mooring and even though I could see two empty moorings they were told, "no oye." by the dock master.  He did not use proper VHF protocol so the captain did not understand and called again.  I answered and told him that the dock master had sand no, but that we were leaving in the morning. 

Receipts for provisions.  Time to depart.

Now, maybe they did not want a 46 foot catamaran in the mooring field, but that is for them to discuss. 

Crossing the Panama Canal

At noon on Saturday, December 1st, our hired line handlers had not appeared so we called Erick and he confirmed that they were stuck in traffic, that we should depart as soon as they arrived and that our transit time had been moved back to 1530.  Once Jesus and Roberto arrived we cast off the lines and headed to The Flats (Lat Long??.)  We learned that they spoke no English, but understood a little.  Barb was able to communicate best with them.  Jesus was 31 years old and Roberto was his 17 year old brother.  After a short wait (and rain) the adviser was delivered to the boat at 1545. Barb raised and rinsed the mud from the anchor chain and tied the anchor into its roller.  At 1555 we were on our way under the guidance of our adviser Roy.  As we motored up the channel towards the Gatun Locks a large ship was getting closer on our stern so we were directed to the far right side of the channel for them to pass.

 In their wake was a large sightseeing motor catamaran and we pulled in behind them.  The ship entered the first of the three chambers and the catamaran did too, tying up next to the wall on the right side.  Our adviser was on the radio insisting that we wanted a center tie position in the lock. but the Canal Authority told us to tie up to the tall, metal, ninety foot sightseeing vessel.  As the fresh water filled the chamber there was a good deal of turbulence and Jupiter’s Smile was pushed away from the catamaran and then banged back into it.  I had positioned the fenders on the cap rail but the hired line handlers and the adviser wanted them a little lower, right below the cap rail.  After the “thud” they scrambled to reposition them, exactly where I had them before.  There was no apparent damage to either boat - no harm; no foul.  Once the ship moved into the next chamber, the crew members of the catamaran cast off our lines and we backed to let them move forward and into position in the second chamber.  They cast us off before the turbulence subsided and we ended up backing toward the wall of the chamber, but I used the throttle and the rudder to get us right again.  In the next chamber, we raised the fenders, moved along side the catamaran again and the process began all over again.

I found that with the current and turbulence I was actually feeling pressure against the rudder and so I was able to steer us and keep us close to the catamaran for this and the third lock so things went much better.  The catamaran crew waited to cast us off on our signal and that was better too.  By the time the we cleared the last lock it was 1820 and dark.  The adviser directed us about a mile and a half to the mooring in the lake.  We tied to a sailboat from the Netherlands and the adviser was picked up.  We realized that, in all the hustle and bustle, none of us had eaten anything and the adviser left having not been fed.  Barb put out cheese, nuts, chips and salsa and commenced cooking.  Her meal was wonderful, but to our hired Panamanians I think it was not to their taste and that a piece of mutton, rice and beans would have been okay for them.  Roberto hardly ate anything and his meal went mostly to the fishes.

On our previous passage, three years ago, on S/V So Cal So Good the hired line handlers were both about our age and spoke excellent English.  They were Canal employees and had lots of stories to tell, some historical and all entertaining.  The youngsters we had aboard Jupiter's Smile had little to say and kept themselves entertained with their cell phones.  Vern and Michelle were great company and we had delightful dinner conversation before retiring to bed at about 10:30pm.

Roberto

Jesus

One of 4 long lines

The next morning, my alarm woke me at 0545 and I began to ready the boat to depart at 0600.  The adviser, Carlos, came on board at 0610 and we were underway immediately.  Carlos wanted to steer and so I gave him the helm.

He took us the entire 30 miles across the lake.  He gave up the helm as we approached the Pedro Miguel lock and at 1030, we executed a center tie transit of this lock without incident.  Vern and Michelle agreed that center tie is a much better way to go.  That brought us into Miraflores Lake and then the two Miraflores Locks.  In these locks Carlos called the camera operator and we saw the camera turn in our direction.  I used the satellite phone to call Mother and my brother Larry reported that he could see us on Mother’s computer.  Her Internet is slow, but he captured three low resolution photos of us in the lock.  Very cool.  I have yet to see the photos because the internet connection here is so slow that I can’t download anything, much less the photos.

Near the Bridge of the Americas, Carlos departed to the pilot boat and we continued to the Balboa Yacht Club mooring field.  We saw two moorings and picked the one next another Island Packet.  The club launch came out and offloaded the twelve tires, the four lines, our hired crew, our volunteers Vern and Michelle and not wanting to say adios right away, Barb and I went as well.

Vern relaxing on the bow

The lock gates opening

Throwing the monkey fist

Michelle and Roberto

We tipped the launch pilot $10 and it appeared to me that Jesus gave some money to the dock master.  The tires and lines were left at the dock.  Good byes at the dock followed, but we convinced Vern and Michelle to stay for a beer at the club restaurant to debrief and decompress before getting a cab to their hotel.  They were doing some shopping and sightseeing in the city for a couple of days before returning to Shelter Bay Marina to prepare for their own canal transit later this month on their way to the Galapagos Islands and beyond.

The transit for us was really without incident, but it was not relaxing because it was our home that was transiting, not someone else’s.  That level of concern is appropriate, I suppose, but not relaxing.  Sailing towards Mexico will be a welcome, familiar process through unfamiliar waters in the Pacific.  Wow!  We made it this far!