Sandy managed to get a very groggy crew moving, mostly zombie-like, by the
time the new advisor arrived at 6:30.
We got underway across the lake almost immediately. Some of the crew
disappeared and could be found dotted around the boat sound asleep again.
It wasn't a problem because we were not going to need them until we got to the
Pierre Miguel lock to start the descent at the other end of the lake, about 4 hours away.
This advisor really liked the sound of his own voice and told us story after story after story...
there was no doubt he was smooth and humorous, in his opinion. And in case we hadn't
noticed he kept telling us... "I'm a funny guy". But he was harmless enough if you don't count
the time he totally missed a 90 degree turn we were supposed to make. Fortunately
Alessio (Alec) was sitting up the front and picked up on it right away.
The lake is man made and is like a little Kariba. No hydro electricity though, it's role is to
get ships to the other side of the isthmus and provide the water for the filling of the locks.
It all happens with gravity. There are no pumps used.
The lake is full of fish and has a large, well fed crocodile population. Apart from the shipping
lanes it is not good navigating because the old forests that were flooded a hundred years ago are still there just below the surface.
Alec owns about 15 hectares on the lake and he goes spearfishing there. He said it's really
weird swimming through the forest branches. He also said you have to be vigilant because
somtimes the fish have parasitic worms.
Crossing the lake was pleasant but felt strange when huge cargo ships passed us comming the other way. We had car carriers, bulk carriers, container ships... it really is a very busy canal.
Next year they're supposed to open a second set of locks, both up and down that will be able to take much bigger ships. They are running way behind schedule but when it's finally operational the lake is going to get pretty crowded.
In some areas we passed through cuts where mountains had been cut through the center, all by hand initially until the U.S. got involved with steam shovels etc. There were times when they were losing 100 men per day, not so much through accidents but from tropical diseases.
As we got near the first lock the advisor told us we would be rafted up against one of the big tourist boats that transit the canal daily. They're steel, about 90ft long and are 4 decks high.
The process is, they go in first against the wall and we then tie up to them, and we can't go from lock to lock tied as we did coming up, we have to untie and retie for each lock.
The advisor's role is to advise the boat skippers about what to expect, and give verbal directions
because many of the maneuvers are new to us. We don't have occasion to share tight spaces with vessels with thousands of horsepower in our normal lives and tying up and releasing while they are also all over the place really does run the adrenalin stocks down.
As we came in to tie up to Pacific Queen the advisor was calling 'port', 'starboard' etc, and it was only at the last moment that we saw she had a 6 inch steel lip on her toerail right at the level that would destroy our boat's teak cap and rails. All our fenders were positioned below, where the
hulls would meet.
Sandy was first to spot it and jumped into action with a spare fender and managed to wedge it in between the boats right at the point that would have been first contact.
At the same time she shouted to Brian and Isa to pull the other fenders higher too. They caught on quickly and followed her lead and no damage was done. I even left the helm and joined them.
We all had legs over the side pushing the boats apart to get the fenders secured.
Through all this we had an audience of all the tourists on Pacific Queen looking down from their various decks. Some were concerned but some thought it was a huge joke. I'm seriously
considering our next investment for Wind Wanderer... 4 or 5 cannon on each side.
After dropping the level of the first lock the advisor asked me to reverse as soon as the lines
were free so that Pacific Queen could move away from the wall and go forward.
It sounded reasonable and was going fine until PQ's captain decided to power forward
instead of just easing forward initially as good seamanship would dictate. Being just behind
we got caught in the massive burst of turbulence that almost pushed us to the wall before
I could get the power on and recover.
Bear in mind that if I've got enough power on to get us to 8 kts and the turbulence is coming
at 10 kts we're still losing ground at 2 kts. Plus we've got the inertia of 30 tons so we don't
get to 8 kts right away.
That was the last advice I took from the advisor. We docked with PQ twice more just as
though we were coming in to any normal dock and totally ignoring his "port", "starboard"
bleatings, and it was perfection, in my unbiased, humble opinion.
When we released, his "steady astern captain" was met with a burst of forward power to get
us steerage and 6 ft away from PQ, then a token reverse clear of her turbulence.
When we were clear of the last lock he held out his hand and said
"Well done captain. We did a good job."
If I'd been a real pirate he'd have lost that hand to the edge of my cutlass and be wearing a
hook by now, but I just shook it, said thanks and hoped like hell other cruisers would learn to ignore him before getting any damage. I'm such a woos.
Sandy and Isa knocked up some sandwiches as we motored toward the Bridge of America
that spans the entrance to the canal on the Pacific side, and his pick up launch was waiting
there for him.
Just beyond the bridge we pulled into the Balboa Yacht Club where we planned to rent a
mooring for a night and off load the tyres and lines we'd rented.
They charge $35/night, which is exorbitant, but the staff there are also known to be lazy.
Checking us in was harder than just telling us they had no moorings available.
We could see empty moorings all over the place, but they insisted they had nothing.
So we motored on and around some islands to an anchorage known as Las Brisas where
we dropped the hook.
We can see the impressive high rise skyline of Panama City about 4 miles away
across the bay.
We said goodbye to our crew and ferried them ashore with our dinghy. We could
not have asked for a better team, both in attitude and work done. Young Brian who
readily took on the role of photographer did a great job. Isa, who had never been on
a boat before but learned quickly and jumped in to help with meals or clear up
without ever being asked. Sandy found a bookmark she stuck in the spice rack with a
very special thank you to us.
And Alessio (Alec), a decent helpful guy who became an instant friend too. In fact he
is picking us up tonight to go for a bite to eat in the old city of Panama.
And then of course there's Leo, our wild little Frenchman who we took on as a line
handler and turned out to be so much more. You're welcome on board any time buddy,
but then you know that. If ever we needed crew we'd hunt this guy down.
He can be counted on to do anything... well, maybe not pour the drinks...!
This anchorage is free, protected from the swell and wakes of all the canal shipping,
but has a treacherous dinghy dock. We'll just have to be careful. There are quite a few
boats here and at least 4 we've met already with Aussie couples.
In fact one boat, Xanadu, is also planning to head for the Marquesas early next week.
It will be good if we end up sailing within a few hundred miles of each other. We could
share weather information and if either boat had a breakdown at least there is help
within a day or two.
We're waiting for a few parcels from the U.S to arrive, one a chest freezer we've ordered
so we can make life a bit easier since our fridge/freezer died in St Martin. I've also got to
make changes to the whisker pole which I expect to use a lot from now on, and a repair
to the watermaker.
If all goes well we hope to start our passage to the Marquesas early next week.
Until next time...