If I only had a brain...

So Ecuador is out. We noticed that a couple of our passports expire in a year. Since most places require that you have a passport that will be valid for at least 6 months from your arrival and there are not a lot of U.S. Embassies in the South Pacific, we decided to have ours renewed in Panama City. When we broke the news to Conrad and Mark that we had changed our mind yet again (we had also recently changed plans about Peru), Conrad happily drew this parallel: "It's like we're the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz--it's like we don't have a brain!" From the mouths of babes...

These hamburger seed pods are much coveted in the Caribbean.
They have greatly challenged my minimalist aspirations.
I couldn't stop picking them up...

The passport application process in Panama City was very straightforward and our passport was actually ready in six days. We left the anchorage in La Playita and headed to Las Perlas to wait for our new passports. La Playita is very roll-y and crowded. When we returned to the boat the day before we left, a friend informed us that a boat had dragged anchor into us. Later that evening, the same boat (which was very close) bumped into us as the wind died and the anchored boats pointed every which way. Conveniently, he does gel coat repairs and promised that he would fix the dings. Still, we enjoyed the change of scenery for awhile.

More hoarding...

Perlas has amazing beaches, though they're a lot smaller at high tide.

Black sand had the consistency of flour. Yup, that's all they're wearing.

We got to join up with some kid boat friends again. Yay!

Conrad and Mark are glad to be back to beaches and spend their time digging the Biggest Holes Ever and playing in the surf. We have spent what seems like an inordinate amount of time scraping the bottom in preparation for The Galapagos, where they are reportedly very strict about bringing in any extraneous critters. I experienced 2 tiny crabs in my ear canal, one of which was in there for several hours before I realized it might not be residual water (it saw the literal light at the end of the tunnel and jumped out when Matt shone a flashlight into my ear). We have seen fishing bats, giant grasshoppers, and a tiny octopus that attached to Matt's wetsuit after cleaning the boat.

Fish eating bats.

 

 

 

Panama City, Panama (not Florida)

 

Whenever we do a Google search on 'Panama City', it brings up pages relating to the town in Florida. It must be our use of English rather than Spanish.

 

A new watch battery for $3. The eye-piece is mounted in a plastic
soda bottle cap. Gotta love the ingenuity.

We met one local who said that Panama City is like Miami. It does have a similar tropical setting, with tall white buildings and urban hustle and bustle. Unlike it's grittier sister city, Colon, most areas seem completely safe at any time of the day or night. And its Old Town adds a charming European flavor to the mix. Generally, the people are friendly and helpful, unlike a lot of other big cities.

A sloth hanging out at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute

At times, you would think you were in any large U.S. city (even in Miami you hear just as much Spanish), with the ready availability of all kinds of goods. There are some things that work really well. The public transportation system is excellent and cheap. The streets are clean. Construction is booming. People politely  wait in orderly lines for banks and buses (for the most part--although some will take advantage of 'gringos').

Same sloth (the one in the middle)

But there does seem to be a stronger undercurrent of inefficiency and bureaucracy than other places we have visited. Our dealings with Customs and Immigration as cruisers has been confusing, inconsistent, and at times frustrating.  Anyone that has had a bad experience with the DMV in the U.S. knows that bureaucracy and generally crankiness exists everywhere and maybe we have been able to minimize exposure to it in 'normal life'. But it seems that the rules are applied differently depending on which official you get or which port you check into or out of, to the tune of hundreds of dollars per boat. We spent our last day and a half trying to get our exit papers in order for Immigration, because the office we checked into did not use the proper stamp. Instead of being able to just get the stamp, we had to redo all the paperwork, pay extra fees, and wait around for over 3 hours.

 Our anchorage had a lot of roll from ferries and other working boats speeding through but there was a convenient dinghy dock nearby that could handle the big Pacific tides. It will be nice to get away from the rockiness. We have decided to forego a trip to Peru because of the amount of time we have available and because February is the height of rainy season. Although we might have had Machu Picchu to ourselves, it probably wouldn't be worth it to drag the boys through the cold rain. Instead we will spend some more time in Ecuador and the Galapagos.

The Biomuseo was a big hit with Mark and Conrad. Photo
courtesy of Fabien, a line handler on Ad Hoc, the sailboat
that came through the canal with us.

Going to the flipside

 

We made it across the Panama Canal with no damage to the boat or crew. In some ways, it is a relatively straightforward process, but things do occasionally go wrong so it's a relief to be finished. We are very glad that we had experienced sailors as line handlers. Originally, we were planning to have as line handlers a non-sailing Brazilian family (a father, mother, and their 19-year old daughter), but they backed out. Instead we had our friend Mark from Amelie V, along with Huzar and Patricia from Indra, a boat we met while anchored in The Flats. Having sailors was invaluable because there was enough going on without having to explain how cleats work or how lines should be led, much less worrying about someone who isn't used to walking around on a boat.

 

We picked up our advisor Ricardo and his trainee Victor the afternoon of the first day. We were originally given a transit time of 4 p.m., which was then changed to 3:30. Ricardo and Victor eventually arrived around 4. We then had to motor around the entrance to the canal while we waited for a couple of big ships to come out (like when they switch over the express lanes on a highway). We learned that the only constant during the transit process is changes to plans.

 

We were originally supposed to nest with a 60-foot motor yacht on one side and a monohull on the other side. Nesting is where several smaller boats raft up next to each other in the locks. But then we were told that wasn't happening-- the motor yacht didn't want to nest with us. However, they were apparently told that they had to because there weren't enough ACP Linehandlers (the guys that send lines down from the sides of the locks). So we rafted up but rather than staying nested together through all three Gatun locks, we separated and re-rafted through each one. The first rafting was a bit exciting as we figured out the best way to tie up to the motor yacht but by the second and third locks, we had it down.

 

The first three sets of locks (the Gatun locks) raises you 84 feet, from sea level to the height of Lake Gatun. Instead of digging through land the entire way across Panama, the canal builders built a dam to flood the area in between the two sets of locks. As the Caribbean sea water mixes with the fresh water from Lake Gatun, it creates some fairly brisk current that had the boats buffeting around quite a bit. All of us, including Mark and Conrad, got a big kick out of seeing the locks close and open and watching the water level rise. As we left the last set of locks, we had to watch out in case the cargo ship in front of us used its engines to move forward because the backwash could create a significant current.

After transiting the Lake Gatun locks, we arrived in Lake Gatun at around 8 p.m. A pilot boat picked up our advisor and trainee and we had dinner. We fell asleep to the sounds of the railway and the new lock construction.

 

We were told to be ready to go at 6 a.m. the following morning so we dutifully set the alarm for 6 (we were pretty sure it wouldn't be a 6 a.m. start). The monohull's advisor arrived around 7 a.m. but ours didn't arrive until 8:30. We pushed the engine relatively hard over the almost 30 miles across Lake Gatun to catch up to the other monohull only to be told when we were almost there that we would have to wait a couple hours for another boat. Then we were told we wouldn't have to wait, so we rafted up with the monohull. The wait/don't wait scenario continued to repeat as we went through the locks. Since each downward lock cycle uses 26,700,000 gallons of freshwater, the canal authority wants to make sure that there is a big ship in the mix whenever possible. However, we were able to go through with just the monohull. We stayed nested together for all three locks, with our boat providing the power for both sailboats. The ACP Linehandlers throw lines with monkey's fist knots surrounding a piece of lead, which our line handlers attached to our dock lines. They are really good at hurling those monkey's fists. The ACP Linehandlers then use the dock lines to walk our boats into position within the lock chamber.

When we finally glimpsed the Pacific Ocean through the last set of locks, I felt excitement and relief. The Pacific Ocean may look a lot like the Atlantic Ocean, but for me it represents new paths we can take. Matt headed back to Colon to pick up some packages we were having shipped from the States and to help Amelie IV with their transit. We'll spend some time in Panama City and Las Perlas before heading to Ecuador.