Transiting the Panama Canal

Captain Scott in the Panama Canal

The first big hurdle to reaching the South Pacific is getting through the Panama Canal. Called the "Big Ditch", it is a series of locks that elevate your vessel up 85 feet to Lake Gatun and then down again into the Pacific Ocean. Sailing through the canal is the easy part though. Getting your transit date is the real challenge. Every vessel that transits the canal, and there are tens of thousands every year, must post a series of fees with the canal authority, be measured by an official from the admeasures office, secure lines, fenders and four capable line handlers. Once you have done this it becomes a real question of how to best spend the two weeks waiting to make your transit.

 

Yachts coming from the Caribbean will stop and stay at Shelter bay marina. Here they can process through the channels of bureaucracy while at the same time provisioning for the long passage ahead. We found the staff of Shelter bay to be helpful. Our dock man phoned Eric Galvez our Canal Agent for us and arranged for our propane tank to be filled. At 5PM each day they ring the bell along the dock as a call to happy hour in the restaurant. I never did make Happy Hour, but the Friday night pot luck dinners were a great way to meet all our fellow cruisers. We munched on kabobs with Kenyans, Barbequed Burgers with Brits, and ate aperitifs with Auzzies. Several of the crew aboard boats were professional chiefs. The first potluck we grilled Brauts. The crews who had been away from 1st world grocery stores lined the sides of the BBQ with looks of longing at those Costco links. Meat sold here tends to be somewhat mysterious in nature. Real Italian sweet sausages are sighted almost as frequently as snowballs in Panama.

        The really amazing and unexpected treat was to find so many boats with kids aboard. When Ben, Juli and Steve arrived they completed a baker’s dozen. They met kids from France, England, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Venezuela. There was a lounge upstairs with WIFI where they congregated with their I-pads & PC's. Parents often had pizza and french fries sent upstairs hoping their children stopped long enough to have something for dinner. Juli adopted a British accent and spent the two weeks sounding like she was from Liverpool. There were a series of old military installations around the grounds that the kids explored at night. Several had bats living in them. The kids came back one night around 10PM breathless from running and told me about walking through the old tunnels with bats flying around their heads. Did I mention they did not have flashlights?  Crazy kids.

While in our waiting pattern I made friends with several couples. One was Sara and John from SV SARAJANE. These great folks are from England; Sara is a professional Mariner and John a retired surgeon. Their son Harry became friends with our kids. We met up again with them in Balboa Panama and hope to see them in the South Pacific.

After several false dates we were finally approved for our transit on February 11th.  What followed was a series of very fortunate events. We had our lines and Fenders on board. Paul a neighbor had set us up with our extra line handler. I filled the water tanks, packed the fridge with food and we said our goodbyes. That morning our line handler came aboard. Now, Bolivar is not your average Panamanian. He is 60 years old. Wears a permanent grin and has 25 kids. Seriously he and his wife have 25 foster kids. They run an orphanage in one of Colon's poorest neighborhoods. Needless to say our kids immediately took to him like a long lost uncle.

Leaving the dock about 1:00PM we motored clear of Shelter Bay Marina. Almost at once there was a sense of ease in everything we needed to do. Bolivar was everywhere working with the kids to straighten lines, put away fenders, and tidy up loose items on the deck. I just steered the boat across Colon harbor to the Flats and dropped anchor. Needless to say I had gotten precious little sleep the night before. I was just too excited to sleep. We had everything under control until our canal advisor came aboard sometime just after 3PM.

When our advisor came aboard he instructed us to raise anchor immediately and proceed for the entrance to the first lock. That’s when the excitement began. Our windlass failed. Ben had started to raise the anchor and then yelled back that the windlass was not working. I went forward and tried. No luck. Did I mention the severe fines we would have to pay for delaying our transit?  I ran down the mental list of things that could cause the problem. It had to be the circuit breaker. I had Steve run below and reset the breaker. I shifted to neutral and revved the motor. The windlass draws 150 amps under heavy load. I was praying that it had simply tripped and could be reset. Steve found the breaker tripped, reset it and I helped Ben bring in the anchor. Step one of Murphy's test passed. We motored beside the other boats headed for the transit. As we neared the entrance to the canals first lock a large freighter proceeded us in. Next an 80 foot ketch named Elyse went in and tied up "sidewall". Then it was our turn. We tied up alongside Elyse.

 

4:00 the doors close behind us. The adventure has begun. Water boils beneath us. Watching the sidewalls we slowly rise 35 feet. There is constant noise around us. The ship in front blocks our view of the gates opening into the next lock. However the stern wash from her huge propellers we cannot miss. It sloshes us about like toy boats in a bathtub. The lines holding Elyse to the wall strain. Her stern is pushed up ageist the concrete. We are along for the ride. There is nothing we can do aboard the Omarsea but wait till the advisor gives the signal.  Soon the waters calm. I back the Omarsea away from Elyse and hover dangerously close to the steel gates. Elyse motors forward into the next lock. I wait until her lines are fast to the lock walls before slowly edging our way along side again. Their line handlers are inexperienced. Bolivar hops aboard and helps them make us fast just as the gates close astern once again.

4:25 the big ship is again moving. This time it is Elyse's bow that slams the wall. The handlers struggle to keep her in position but the currents created by the big freighters props are severe. We wait until the waters settle. Only 20' more to go before we are at the lakes level. One more lock and we are done for the day. Once again I back away from Elyse. She moves forward, secures to the wall and signals they are ready for us to come along side. We glide into position as the last set of lock doors begin to close. The water foams and boils. We have made it. We are now 85 feet above the Caribbean Sea and as the freighter clears the dock with the sun setting to our starboard side we enter lake Gatun and tie up for the night.

0700 February 12th 2013: The advisor steps aboard. After a short briefing on the day’s events, as translated by Bolivar, we untie and set off across the lake. The boat responds like a giant slug. Her steering is slow and glancing astern I am dismayed to see the swim platform touching the water. I ask Ben to check the Bilges. He reports that they are dry. Of course!  I took me a moment to realize what was happening. I had painted the waterline last summer myself. It normally stood proud by several inches. But here in the lake it was underwater. Under Freshwater!  The boat was much less buoyant in the freshwater of the lake than the saltwater of the Caribbean and therefore sat lower in the water. The longer wetted hull surface placed more drag when we motored and gave the steering its sluggish response.  Welcome to freshwater sailing. On the more positive side it was killing any unwanted growth on the bottom.

 

 

Bolivar chatted with the Advisor.  They seemed to have many friends in common though they had never met. We passed islands big and small. Birds cried out in Jungle voices. Howler monkeys shrieked from the trees. I had to stay well off to the side of the channel as huge ships were constantly coming around the bends toward us. The advisor had me change channel sides when it proved to be a shortcut and there were no oncoming ships. The sun rose and the day heated up. There was little wind that morning but, as the sun rose higher toward noon a breeze picked up from the North. The current combined with the breeze pushed us along at a steady 3 knots. I was under instructions to maintain 5 knots at all times. It was akin to paddling a kayak on a river current. As long as you were going forward you had control. It was when you had to stop that I was beginning to ponder about. Somewhere ahead was a large ship entering the first of six locks. I had to enter that lock, tied up alongside another yacht all the while holding position against the current until the gates shut. Imagine the feeling you get when riding on a “people-mover” at the airport, the voice comes over the air saying “the walkway is ending - be prepared to exit". Not the same with 35 tons of boats as it is with your carry-on luggage eh?

 

We made such good time that we had to wait just outside the lock for the catamaran and small sailboat that had tied up with us the night before. Our advisor had us raft alongside JAC a 42' Beneteau owned by an Australian named Martin. Martina and I soon realized in order to make this work we had to use both our engines. Tied together we worked out a series of hand signals that allowed us to hold the two boats in position despite the strong winds that were now blowing. At last the pokey sailboats arrived and we entered the lock behind a trio of tour boats loaded with tourists. They lined the rails of the boats taking photos of us as we entered and tied up. Bolivar had Benjamin manning the stern line while he took the bow. Martin’s crew took the Starboard canal lines so all Juli and Steve could do was take pictures. The lock gates closed about 12:30 and we began our decent to the Pacific Ocean.

12:50 we exit the lock in tandem with JAC. The currents are mild and there is none of the prop wash of the previous day. It is almost serene. We talk with the canal linemen as they walk the lines from one lock to the next. The Gates close again, with Juli holding a sign that says "Hi Mom" for the webcam; we slowly drop another 20 toward sea level.  When we cleared the lock there was a "free for all " to be the first into the next set of locks. Miraflores was nearly a mile away. Only the Omarsea and JAC were rafted up together and I could only watch as the single boats jockeyed for position ahead of us. They were keen to make it out first and secure the one or two open moorings at the Balboa yacht club found just outside the canal. I wanted one of these but I had a commitment to fill the fuel tanks and drop off the lines and fenders with our agent before picking a mooring ball up.

 

1:50 we enter the first of the Miraflores locks in Last place. It looks like we will make it through with plenty of daylight. I just hope I can get fuel. We have been running on the same tanks we filled in Florida and have only about 40 gallons left. The locks open and close. We move forward slowly. Tie up and then we see the Bridge of the Americas ahead of us. The saltwater of the Pacific now floats us high once again. The last lock gates open and the race to find a mooring begins.  Elyse with her huge engine takes a swift lead. The Cat with the Australian family could be a contender. The small sailboat that we had waited on just the day before seems to have found some speed and have quite a wake behind them. Martin and I separate the two boats cleanly and with a "Good luck Mate" he is off to catch the crowd. I wait until Bolivar has the lines and fenders squared away before I punch in the hyper drive.

 

We pass the smaller sailboat before reaching the Bridge of the Americas. We pass the Australian Cat just under the bridge and pull along JAC as we get to the Yacht club. Alyse is long gone with her 75 feet of waterline and big motor. They are already tying up to a pair of mooring balls. The Australian Cat is a stiff competitor and streaks through the mooring field at hull speed to pick up his choice mooring. He cuts us off in his hurry. If he only knew I had to drop my advisor and get fuel first he would not have been in such a rush, I am sure. We slowly approach the fuel dock, tie up and are met by Eric our Agent who takes the lines and fenders. The dock master says he will sell me no fuel. "You did not have a reservation" he says. Funny he will not answer the VHF, his Email or the phone. I wonder how one does make such a reservation? Anyway so we say a hearty farewell to our new friend Bolivar Garrera there at the dock. Then the kids and I sail southward to find another anchorage. The sun hangs low on the horizon now. It is good to be here.

Our transit has been an exciting two day adventure, full of good fun and a thrilling end. Here we are in the Pacific Ocean. I will check that off my bucket list and the Panama Canal too.

What new adventures lie ahead we can only guess. For now I just need a place to put our anchor out, get some good sleep and tomorrow find a fuel dock and a grocery store.

 

Until the Galapagos -Fair Winds