Isla San Cristobol and Isla Santa Cruz (Galapagos, Ecuador)

San Cristobol is home to a huge colony of sea lions.

We paid a lot of money to come to the Galapagos. When you consider that many of the islands in the Caribbean were completely free to cruise or at the most under $100 US, the $1600 we paid for our autografo (a permit that allows us to cruise to three islands; 1-island permits are cheaper) is expensive. Granted, it's cheaper than the $4000 or so that it costs to fly from Chicago but is still pretty rich for our blood.

Tijeretas on San Cristobol

Las Grietas on Santa Cruz--we loved this brackish-water-filled crevice.

So we can understand why some cruisers decide not to visit. But we're glad we didn't skip it. The rugged volcanic terrain, unique wildlife and their sheer numbers has distinguished the Galapagos from the many countries we have visited.

The elusive red-footed booby.

Our naturalist couldn't help giggling every time he said the word 'booby'.

Punta Pitt

We spent about a week in San Cristobol, where we picked up our friends Peter, Hilary, and Maria. We had fun touring Kicker Rock, Punta Pitt, and a few highlights of Cristobol. They got to experience the joys of Navy showers and a swell-y anchorage and were troopers about the whole experience. We took them over to Santa Cruz towards the end of their visit on what was supposed to be a day sail with light winds. Instead we had 20-30 knot winds on the nose, which was one of our more uncomfortable sails, especially for non-sailors. After a couple days in Santa Cruz, our friends headed home to Iowa.

 

Punta Pitt

We'll stick around Santa Cruz for a few days while we figure out why our water maker keeps overheating. Then we'll head over to Isabela to see penguins and volcanoes.

 

 

 

Panama to Galapagos

We beached our boat at Isla Espiritu Santo in Las Perlas. The tides are so big that you can drive your boat onto one of several flat sand beaches at low tide, do your out-of-water tasks, and then wait for the tide to come back up.

We spent the morning giving our boat bottom one last scrub to get rid of any hitchhikers (barnacles, algae, etc.). The tide came up, we motored off the beach, and then after a short anchor we left for the Galapagos with our friends on Amelie IV. Mandala left shortly afterwards.

We were expecting the trip to take anywhere from six to ten days, depending on the wind (starting March 5). The forecast showed good winds for the first few days, with the winds lightening significantly afterwards. We were ecstatic when the winds mostly held, with some lulls, until the last day. We only had to motor sail for the last 18 hours of the trip. We arrived in just over six days, within hours of Mandala and Amelie IV. We were glad to have beat ten days because our friends who are flying in on the 15th.

The passage was rough at times but mostly comfortable. We saw pilot whales right next to the boat, a turtle eating a dead ray, loads of dolphins, and a big shark jumping out of the water (we think either mako or spinner shark). Our friends on Mandala saw a huge dead whale and got a marlin on their fishing line (it took the lure). We had a ceremony as we passed the Equator and turned from slimy pollywogs to faithful shellbacks.

That's a sea lion sleeping on our boat. They're better climbers
than we thought. Cute but they shed, smell and aren't house-broken.

As we pulled into the waters next to the lumpy landmass of San Cristobol, the sun was coming up and we could see millions of tiny blue glowing dots in the water. The water was so clear that it was like an aquarium teeming with tube worms, big colonies of lacy jellies, and dozens of turtles. We were greeted by sea lions, pilot whales, and dolphins. Mark and Conrad jumped up and down at the bow of the boat, yelling and pointing excitedly. We couldn't have asked for a better welcome.

Now we wait...

New passports picked up. Check!

Boat's waterline lowered from 132 eggs, tons of produce, full diesel tanks, full gas tanks, and full water tanks. Check!

Last ice-cream cones eaten in civilization for awhile. Check!

Wind to get us to the Galapagos. [Sound of sad clown horn].

 

We're back in Las Perlas and even though the wind is blowing like crazy here, the forecast for sailing the 900 or so miles to The Galapagos is dismal. After we fueled up at Panama City, we decided we didn't want to spend one more night in the rocky, rolly anchorage at La Playita. We were also stubborn and didn't feel like motoring even though there was hardly any wind. So we tooled along at 2 knots for a good portion of the journey and pulled into Contadora after about 10 hours, around 9 p.m. The good thing is, our sail was calmer than the anchorage at La Playita and we caught 2 big red snappers. There were big swaths of reddish water, which we speculated could be the toxic red algae tides we had heard about. The water was so still that we could see tons of schools of tiny minnows, little octopuses, crabs, and jellies. We also sighted more whales. It was a long, slow, but pleasant journey.

We think there might be decent wind next Friday that will take us at least half way and then not so decent wind that, with the current, could get us where we're going without burning a ton of diesel. That's a lot of ifs and just another way of saying we are waiting to see what will happen. We might beach our boat to do the final bottom cleaning. At any rate, waiting around here beats the subzero temperatures that our family and friends back in Chicago are experiencing.

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.

Preparing to cross the Panama Canal

Anchored in the Rio Chagres

After leaving Portobelo, we headed to Colon to prepare for our Panama Canal transit. When we used to go through the locks that separated Lake Michigan from the Chicago River, we just pretty much just went through when they opened up. There's quite a bit more involved with the Panama Canal.

 

We committed our first faux pas by entering the harbor without calling Cristobol Signal Station, whose job it is to direct traffic through and around the canal. The first question we were asked is, "Are you sailing?" Um, well, we were just in the process of turning on our engines and taking down our sails. "Yeah, use your engines. Then go to the stern of the vessel approaching." As they were referring to a humongous container ship that could pulverize us without even slowing down, we readily agreed.

 

For a small private vessel going through the Panama Canal, there are several crucial steps. Although many cruising boats do it themselves, we decided to use an agent to help guide us through the process. Our agent did the paperwork, arranged for us to be measured, organized fenders and lines, and set up our transit date. When you use an agent, you also don't have to pay the $800 refundable deposit. You have to have an advisor that works for the canal, who comes with you through the locks. You also need 4 line handlers besides the captain (so for us, 3 other people). Going from Colon to Panama City takes 2 days, so you have line handlers staying overnight on your boat. We have 3 other cruisers who want to experience the canal before going through, including our friend Mark from Amelie IV.

 

We waited in "The Flats", which is an anchorage area near the Colon side of the canal, for five days without being able to get off the boat. It took longer than we expected to get measured, buy fuel, and for the weather to cooperate.

 

We finally got to go to the Rio Chagres, which is the river that was dammed to make part of the Canal. It cuts through dense jungle filled with howler monkeys, birds, frogs and butterflies. There are crocodiles, sloths, and jaguars. We hiked through one section with Marie-Claude, Megan and Matthew from Amelie IV, almost bushwhacking our way through. Afterwards, Mark and Conrad had a great time running through tunnels at the San Lorenzo Fort with their friends from Kazaio and some kids from Colon. On another day, we took the dinghy up river to see the dam.

After a visit to the marina to pick up our fenders and lines, finish our provisioning, do some laundry, wash the boat, play in the pool, and see the monkeys in the nearby jungle, we'll head back to The Flats to wait for our advisor and begin our transit. From what we have heard, there's not much to it. That doesn't stop me from being a bit nervous about the whole thing.