Marina at around 6, which is right in the middle of Happy Hour. We knew for a
fact that the crew we were to meet would be unwinding after a two week delivery
ending with a south/north canal transit.
It wasn't hard to pick them. Three guys and a girl at a table on the veranda
with beer bottles standing around like an undisciplined army unit. As we got
nearer Ben, the tall, older, lanky guy stood up with a big smile and
outstretched hand. "You must be Vic".
We'd been communicating online and after quick introductions we pulled up
more chairs and it quickly became obvious that we all got on well. The other
three had agreed to be our line handlers for the transit to the Panama City side
on the Pacific ocean.
Leo was the wildest looking of the bunch. French, with a wild head of dreadlocks
and such a strong accent he was hard to understand, but he has been
through the canal 20 times, speaks Spanish too and had a good attitude.
The other two were a couple, Carly and Grant, and they were quieter.
We figured it would be a good crossing with competent people, until the
couple told us they may pull out but would let us know on Friday. In fact they
did pull out about 24 hours before we were due to start the transit. This came
as a letdown because just the day before they had said they were on board for
sure.
To transit the canal you have to have 4 people to handle the lines. As the
water fills the locks it is turbulent and the lines have to be taken in as the
boat rises to keep it from getting out of control and hitting the sides. On the
other side they have to let out the lines as the water in the locks falls.
Fortunately Leo had lived in Panama for a while some years back and he made a
few phone calls to some old friends to see who might be available. In the mean time
I got a few possible candidates off the marina notice board where people give names
and numbers, but most of the notices would be out of date this late in the season.
Leo eventually found a friend who was keen to come along if her 15 year old
son could come too. While she had never been on a boat she was a fitness
instructor so would be capable. She also had a friend she could line up who had
been through the canal once before and could sail.
On Friday evening Ben and Leo came over to our boat and we rustled up a meal.
The evening slipped away with an easy camaraderie, as though we'd rediscovered
old friends. Sometimes it happens. We really wished Ben could have joined us for
the transit too, but he had family he needed to get back to in San Francisco.
The next morning we got stuck into all the things that needed doing. Leo came
over and we got the 14 tyres draped around the boat and the four 125 foot lines
set up at the cleats. This is where Leo was a great asset, having been through
so many times before.
About mid morning the rest of the team arrived. Isabel (Columbian) with her
son, Brian, and Alessio (Italian). What a cosmopolitan team. Alessio speaks
English, Italian and Spanish, but Isa is trying hard to learn English. Brian has
schoolboy English so was a bit of an interpreter for her.
We had a great team with the most helpful, eager attitudes you could wish
for. Leo took them all under his wing and briefed them, and Sandy, on line
handling without rope burns or losing fingers.
We were due to meet our 'Advisor' for the day at 4:30pm at The Flats anchorage,
about 4 miles from the marina. Every boat has to have one on board provided by
the canal authority and it's the luck of the draw as to whether you get a good one.
Ours turned out to be helpful and knowledgeable. That may have been because he
had a trainee along too, or because his name is also 'Vic'. He instantly decided I
was his brother.
We had decided to leave the marina at 3 which would give us plenty of time to
get to The Flats.
Just before 3 we noticed a very dark, black cloud bank coming towards the
marina. A storm like that could keep us pinned there and we could miss our
rendezvous with the advisor, so I made the call to get out right away. We only
needed 5 minutes to get clear of the slips.
Talk about perfect bad timing...
We had the lines off and were gently backing out when we got slammed by
15-20 on the beam and pouring rain. Full keel, 30 tons and no bow thruster.
No way to get head to wind which was what we needed for our exit. So we went
with the wind further into the finger docks to where I figured we'd hold her stern
to wind on the engine and fend off if we had to while I looked for a plan B.
Fortunately there were 2 empty slips together and we got her bow in. Leo dived
over the side and we got a line to him where we could hold on as the wind eased.
The stern came around and as the wind started easing we backed out again, Sandy
and the crew fended off a big catamaran as we got head to wind and motored out
with just inches to spare.
Adrenalin levels on the boat hit about 150%, but we figured the canal could not pitch
any worse curve ball than that.
The advisor was late and it was after 5 by the time we fell in behind a big
orange cargo vessel. We'd seen a power boat pick up an advisor too so we figured
we'd be going through rafted up together.
Being 65ft LOA we were told we'd be the controlling vessel. Well, they had
3 x 300 hp outboards and a serious bow thruster. We ended up very easily
working together and we managed the 3 locks to Gatun Lake without a hitch.
It was a surprise and a bonus to find the 35ft powerboat was being piloted by 2
young South Africans who knew their stuff. That powerboat was the 'dinghy' to a
superyacht they were on their way back to meet.
As we got close the line handlers on shore threw 2 light lines with a lead
weighted monkeyfist to the boat. We'd been warned and had our solar panels
covered with bean bags and mattresses. Our line handlers tied our heavier lines
to these messenger lines and they got pulled up to where they were dropped over
bollards on the top of the walls.
The locks are obviously huge and there is quite an ominous feeling as those
massive steel gates close behind you. The gates are still the originals installed
a hundred years ago. I wished they hadn't told me that!
When they let the water in we rose on a flood of turbulence but we were able
to ride it up without much fuss.
As we rose up in the second lock we noticed a group of about a dozen men in
various uniforms on the wall, and one called out 'Who got injured?'
I didn't see it happen, but a trainee advisor on the power boat got hit on
the head by the monkeyfist, twice! He claimed he was feeling dizzy so they
called an ambulance. The whole operation was held up for 15 minutes while we had
to manouver our rafted boats to the side. There was nothing wrong with him, in
my opinion. Just a malingerer who decided to play up and get some sick leave. He
hopped off perfectly capably.
It was dark by the time we cleared the last lock and we motored to a large mooring
buoy on the lake. It's fresh water and we had the benefit of it killing any salt
water growth on the bottom.
Leo and Brian went over the side for a swim in spite of the crocodiles. There
are a lot, but the lake is teaming with fish and they are timid by nature. There
has never been an attack so I guess they must be right.
We feasted on Sandy's gourmet chili and sat around chatting. You do make
friends quickly living the cruising life. Brian faded right after eating and we
turned in at midnight while the rest partied on.
The next advisor was going to turn up at the boat between 6 and 6:30 am so we
had to sleep fast!
To be continued...