Panama Canal

I'll let the pictures do most of the work.

Canal Cross Section: to get your bearings

Bullshitting under the Bridge of the Americas

Big container port in Balboa

Our first day lock-mate

First lock of Miraflores, note the turbulence as the lock fills

Looking back from the filled lock

We were locked center, with a tug and bulk carrier

Gates closing on second Miraflores lock

The locks are in pairs, the east side is already filled here

Spectators

Southbound yachts rafted in groups, the usual way

There is a small lake in between the Miraflores locks and the Pedro Miguel lock. We have no pictures from Pedro Miguel lock. It was an 'all hands on deck' situation. The process, as small boats approach the lock, is for line-handlers on the canal walls to throw weighted messenger lines down onto the deck. The boat's crew then tie their larger lines to these messenger lines. The line-handlers then walk into the lock with the boat as it idles forward. When the boat is in position, they place the boat's lines over bollards. As the lock fills, four crew (one for each line) on the boat haul in their lines in order to keep the boat centered in the lock. This is important. There's a lot of turbulence and there's no other way to control the boat.

As JUMBLE entered the Pedro Miguel lock, there were no line-handlers on the walls. "I've got a bad feeling about this" I told Anna. Our transit adviser (Canal employee whom comes aboard for the duration), was on the radio trying to figure out what was going on. Meanwhile the lock gates were closing behind us. The tug and freighter were already in. I was having a hard time keeping JUMBLE centered with the current or what I guess was prop wash from the tug. Finally, some line-handlers appeared on one wall and I did a reverse-forward-reverse full circle inside the lock to re-center. Their throws were short and we resumed drifting towards the opposite wall. The adviser asked me to do another circle and work back to center, but by that time we were too close to the leeward wall.

JUMBLE ended up tied along the lock wall, exactly what you're not supposed to do in a small sailboat. The lock walls are rough, 100 year old concrete. If your rig gets caught on any of the various crevices or hooks along the wall while the lock fills, you can kiss your mast goodbye. Luckily, we were well fender-ed (to protect the hull) and had an active crew. We moved all our diesel and water jugs to the port side to heel JUMBLE away from the wall. As the lock filled, we all fended off the wall and kept the lines as slack as we could. JUMBLE's small size was advantage, I'm sure it would have been much harder to manhandle a heavier boat.

Supposedly, this fiasco attracted some attention. The lock manager (or whatever he's called) had either forgot us or assumed we were a tug tie or something. Our adviser for the second day, after introductions, said "Oh! You're the boat that did a circle in the locks!" I hope someone got chewed out, at least.

After Pedro Miguel, it's a long (25-30 nm) motor to a mooring buoy in Lake Gatun, where the adviser leaves and you spend the night. The second adviser arrives the following morning for the last set of locks.

Centennial Bridge

Heavy rain on the long motor to Gatun Locks

Tons of big boat traffic

Post rain color change

Guys hanging out in the semi-dry area

Valentina

Gaston

Felix, on the mooring buoy we tied to for the night

Crappy celebration picture, blurry and Anna is just a forehead

Lock partner is behind on second day: car carrier

Lines for the big boats are handled by locomotives

Last lock to the Atlantic

Gonzales, second day adviser

So long Panama Canal

Stuck in Panama City

March 12^th to March 31^st

We arrived in Panama City just in time to meet our friends Ben and Kerry, who'd flown down from Boston the night before. Our intent had been to go through the canal with them as line-handlers, but JUMBLE and crew were in no condition for a transit. Our engine, which would have to run for 8-12 hours through the canal, most of them at full throttle, had developed a leaky raw water pump. Several smaller projects had piled up and the rig was loosening.

I spent two days running around Panama City, hemorrhaging taxi fare, looking for parts that simply couldn't be found. Johnson Pumps aren't used here, but there are plenty of Jabscos! To make matters more complex, our existing pump had been discontinued by the manufacturer (despite the engine being only 3 years old), so a new one simply couldn't be found. An optimistic outboard mechanic assured me he could fix the pump and promptly made a mess of things. Chalk up another story about why you should never let a mechanic work on your boat. Finally, the very helpful folks at Dimar, an industrial supply-type place, pieced together mismatching water seals from different size pumps to effect a temporary fix. Ben and I then rebuilt the pump with the parts in hand, while drinking my first decent beer since San Diego: an IPA of some sort. There are a fair amount of imported beers available here in Panama, but at a premium. $2.50+ a bottle at the grocery store.

One of the bearings was starting to rust, no bueno

Pump gutted and read to clean, parts to left

Ghetto arbor press

With the pump 'fixed', it was time to show our guests a little fun. We set sail for Las Perlas, specifically Isla Chapera, about 30 nm from our anchorage in Panama City. It was still in the morning and we motored, but finished with a great spinnaker run down to the island and then a short beat to the north end, with a view of Isla Contadora, which has a small town. We anchored off a pristine, white sand beach and swam in at sunset. Anna rowed in the dinghy and had the last laugh. The Humboldt Current was running strong and the water was full of plankton, krill, small jellies and just general fuck all. On top of all that, the water was cold. We never got the thermometer out, but my guess is around 70 degrees. Quite a contrast to the balmy, empty waters in Costa Rica.

We lucked out with our neighbors that night. There were two other boats and ten people down to party with a big, driftwood bonfire on the beach. Wine and rum were in full effect and even a little bourbon showed up. There was plenty of of bullshitting as we watched a new suite of stars transit the sky. The second night was much quieter and we mostly kept to ourselves, messing around with our weatherfax receiver. Our trip back to Panama City was flat clam and all motor.

Ben's the picture guy, so he chronicled that leg of the trip. His pictures will definitely outshine our usual fare. Look for an update to this post once we manage to exchange them.

After Ben and Kerry went home, we were stuck in a rolly anchorage in need of rest and repair. The rest never came, but the repairs eventually did. Crew service boats run day and night for the ships anchored out. Some of the operators were considerate, but most seemed to enjoy blasting through the small boat anchorage at full speed at all hours. Every boat rolls in these conditions, but JUMBLE is very sensitive to wakes. We're plenty stable at sea and JUMBLE's roll from swell and surge is nothing special, but wake gets us rolling from gunnel to gunnel. It's really something, once the rolling starts you've got to grab your tools and hold on. We broke our french press the second day. I think it has something to do with our roll period, which is shorter than most boats and matches the frequency of many wakes. This might be the subject of a whole other post.

We met several people at the anchorage and everyone knew JUMBLE before we described it, “Oh! You guys are the boat that rolls all the time!” They thought we were pretty salty. We're not and it sucked.

Old Carrier towed to the canal?

Panama City was the least friendly place we visited. I'm not sure this is true of all of Panama, but that was our experience. Likely it's the dickish behavior of city folk everywhere. Traveling by boat, you're usually insulated from fast-paced moneygrubbers, so it was off putting. Small boat cruising is not a priority for Panama City, so facilities are limited and geared towards superyachts and sportfishers: deep pocket dummies. Broke, penny-pinching sailors are treated as a kind of minor nuisance. The anchorages are out on Amador causeway, far from the city proper, because of the extreme, nearly 18' tidal ranges. Getting to town requires riding a taxi, at least until you figure out the metrobus and the new subway system, which is pretty cool. Even still, if you need to go to a seedy area, have a ton of groceries or you're coming back late, you're going to have to use the taxis. After our first few days, we wised up to the price gouging.

Theoretically, the rates are:

$2 within a 'zone' (neighborhood)

$4 across zones

$6 across town

Additional passengers are usually a few dollars more, but I don't know official amount

We almost never got these rates, paying 'gringo prices'. Once you know the scam, it's still a battle to get a reasonable rate. Usually we were quoted $15 for two to get back to the anchorage from the gigantic Albrook Shopping mall. We'd usually offer $2-$4, depending on how many taxi drivers were loafing around. Most drivers refuse outright, a few will argue $10, eventually we'd usually go for $6, a few times for $4. It was a real pain in the ass just finding a taxi willing to give a reasonable rate and it was always an argument, which is simply the way things are.

Lazy shots from the cross-town bus

Sorry about the reflection

Serious construction everywhere

Condo towers surrounding shacks on inundated land

We were also gouged by the various visa and cruising permit costs, which were far higher here than any other place we've visited. A few hundred dollars. Enforcement has been zero, so we now regret paying the fees at all. We counted ourselves lucky to check in on the Pacific side, as the folks we met coming from the Atlantic always paid more. The price of these permits should be the same, but who minds a little graft? There's a fellow in the immigration office who charges $40 for “boat inspections”, or for bags of trash or both. He never saw JUMBLE, but took the money.

Fruit and Veg Market

Add you own caption

Serious dude and girly poster

Paz y sandías

This one cracks me up

Our raw water pump came from the engine manufacturer, $250, with another $250 for shipping. It overnight-ed from California to Panama City in 24 hours, then sat at the airport with a customs 'clearance delay' for a week. I called the local FEDEX branch and got a different story each time. Supposedly a $4 import tax had to be paid and someone would contact me. They told a slightly different story every time. Frustration mounted and finally some experienced sailors explained the process to me over pizza and beers. I used “Yacht in Transit” in the address line and this is apparently code for customs officials to fuck around and squeeze extra cash out of you. Arturo, a local, imports boat parts from Florida and we gave him the tracking number to see what he could do. At the same time, we rode the express bus out to Tocumen Airport, on the other side of the city, to begin our battles with FEDEX and customs. We were advised to act like confused tourists, Anna was there to shed some tears and just generally pitch a fit. We never had to. As we were walking into the cargo terminal, I got a call telling me the pump was at the dingy dock. Somehow, Arturo pulled the right string and accomplished in a day what we'd been trying to do for a week.

The Panama Canal Authority was the easiest agency to deal with. There was a little hitch with our admeasurer, who gave us a little BS about our minimum required speed: 8 vs 5 knots. This is a big issue for sailors, but this post has become too boring, so we'll move on. Roughly $1100, plus a $900 deposit, to transit the canal. This price includes some enormous lines (ropes) we rented and used tires (as additional fenders), that I bought for a $1.

We gave the engine a full lube and service, gathered crew and supplies and set out for the canal on March 31^st. I guarantee that the Canal Post will be much more exciting, but I wanted to offer a little perspective on the painful minutiae we often get slammed with while traveling on JUMBLE.

Serious skyline for a city of 900,000