Leg 1 - Golfito, Costa Rica through the Panama Canal
No good adventure worth it’s weight in tarter sauce would be complete without a bon voyage party! This took place on Sunday, May 23 at Steve’s folk’s house, and was once again sponsored by his family. The food was great, homemade ice cream was had by all, and the event concluded with everyone praying for our safe return.
Bon Voyage Party Katie & Leslie's Send-Off Banner
The following week was spent in daily preparations for departure, but was compounded by the constant softball games of Katherine, baseball games of Nicholas, as well as one last Fresno Grizzlies game (our AAA baseball team). Packing up the 13 years worth of books and other personal effects in Steve’s office took 3 boxes to fill, and Friday the 28th concluded with his sincerest farewells to his coworkers. Upon arrival home, Steve found his wonderful wife and daughter putting the finishing touches on a banner that read "Bon Voyage Sailors". If I weren't such a man, I would have cried.
Leslie and Katherine took Steve and Nick to the airport, where after checking in, there last meal together was spent at the airport sports bar. It was difficult to express my feelings toward my wife and daughter as we said our goodbyes, I think because I have no idea how our separation of 6 weeks will effect our relationship – will they figure out what a load I have been? Hopefully, they will get along fine, but not too fine!
The flight left Fresno at 2030, arriving in Los Angeles one hour later. After a 4-hour layover, we boarded our jet to San Jose, Costa Rica. The flight was uneventful and 6-hours long, during which Nick slept the entire way. We arrived at San Jose at 0800, and cleared immigration and customs in under 3 minutes. We caught a 12-passanger plane to Golfito, but had to spend an extra $80 in luggage fees – more than an extra seat would have cost! After a bumpy hour, we landed in a small airstrip at Golfito around Noon, May 29th.
Our plane from San Jose to Golfito The cruiser fleet at Golfito
Arriving at our boat was a pleasant experience, as Tim and Katie at Land-Sea Services had done a great job at keeping the mold down and the boat gleaming. The first thing we did was to get the refrigerated started, and to buy some Pepsi and ice cream, as well as some unnecessary items, at the grocery store. The selection is so terrible, that we bought a bag of pinto beans thinking that we could make something good with them. There was a guy named Oscar doing some canvas repair work at Land-Sea, so we took him our damaged mainsail and he performed some reinforcing work, although he will never pass as a sailmaker. The town had a small carnival, and we went down to buy some dinner, but the music was so loud we couldn’t stand it and left. We had a bachelor dinner instead, and hit the sack early.
The 30th found us installing the bimini, solar panels, and hoisting the sails. A leak in the fresh water system left us without running water, and the hardware store was closed on Sunday so the repairs would have to wait. We unpacked our stuff, as well as the stuff we put into storage, and tried to make the boat hospitable again. In the evening we took the Game Cube into the new ‘cruisers club’ on the second floor of Land-Sea, and plugged it into their big TV. We played until we were told at 2100 that the place is closed on Sundays (?), so we went back to the boat and bed.
On the 31st, we were able to get some makeshift parts to fix the boat’s water system, and continued to perform various repairs and maintenance work on the boat. While Steve was at the hardware store buying paint, it started to rain hard. He took a bus back, but the closest stop was ¼ mile away, so he got soaked anyway. Nick picked him up in the dinghy, and they braved the storm out to the boat, where they stayed doing various repairs and watching tapes of the Simpson’s that were in the inventory at Land-Sea. Steve painted the toolbox that was leaving rust wherever it was placed, and began cooking pinto beans that they picked up at the store – how do you cook them? It rained all afternoon and evening. Steve and Nick were locked in mortal combat on the Game Cube late into the night...
On June 1st, Steve got together with Katie at Land-Sea, and they went to get the boat out of bond. After about an hour of waiting, the customs official indicated that we would have to leave the harbor today, or else get a 90-day permit, requiring us getting copies of my stamped passport (they won't let you use their copier, and the nearest place is a couple of miles away). So, we decided to clear customs tomorrow, and leave early the following morning. Steve checked the weather on the internet, and found that the winds will be so light during the next week, that our passage to Panama will likely be mostly under engine power. The afternoon was spent rebuilding the toilet again - this time partly due to a fish that got sucked up the intake through-hull, and got lodged in one of the various rubber flapper valves. Nick took the dinghy to the fuel dock, and spent over $40 on 10 gallons of diesel, and 5 gallons of gas (about $3 per gallon!). It started raining really hard in the afternoon, dumping what we estimated to be about 4" of rain in 3 hours (the dinghy had about 8" of water in it). Steve's beans finally got soft enough to work with, so he added various ingredients from the boat and concocted a pretty good version of chili-stuff. The evening was spent indoctrinating Nick to one of the greatest movies of all time: Animal House. Afterwards, Steve went to update the website, and Nick continued reviewing the Simpson's video.
On June 2nd, Leslie's birthday, we awoke early and went ashore to have showers, and Steve went with Katie Duncan (with Land-Sea) to get our boat out of bond at the Customs office. This went off without a hitch, and Steve went on to Immigration, the Bank, and finally the Port Captain to clear out with each of these officials. Steve forgot Nick's passport, so Nick had to get a taxi and bring it to Immigration. All this took about 3 hours, after which we continued our preparations for departure tomorrow morning. Servicing the engine and outdrive was greasy, dirty, and uncomfortable working under the boat, especially in the humidity and heat, but a job that must be done nonetheless. Steve also discovered that he had misplaced the original Coast Guard Documentation form, which we have only needed once on our previous encounters with officials, so we hope our copies will carry us through the remainder of the trip.
As soon as we got the boat ship-shape, we went ashore to update our webpage, have ice cream, and call Leslie. It was great talking to her. It's been less than a week, and it already feels like a month. After making one last stop at the grocery store to clean out their new supply of sodas, we walked the mile or so back to the boat and played Nintendo.
On the 3rd, we awoke early and cast-off at 0700 on a slack tide, and motored our way through the inner bay's garbage (this bay is filthy), and nearly ran over a dog! The crazy thing was swimming across the bay - maybe a mile and a half across! We slowed down to see if he would alter course an come to us as his salvation, but after giving us a sidelong glance, he resumed his course for the other shore.
The seas were choppy and confused in the outer bay, which is about as large as San Francisco Bay. The wind was light, but we hoisted the sails nonetheless, and motorsailed about 2 hours when Steve discovered that they didn't have the battens for the other mainsail or the shroud covers that he had put in an 8' long box. After much internal debate, he decided to launch the dinghy in the rolley sea, and high-tail it back to port to try and find them. Launching was not easy, nor was the 20-mile ride through the waves and chop, but after two hours which included a taxi ride to the airline office, the missing supplies were safely stowed onboard Wabi Sabi. We resumed motorsailing, and because of light winds, didn't turn the engine off again for a day and a half.
We took 3-hour watches, which went pretty well. We played 'dodge the fishing nets', which is always a cruiser favorite, standing on the bow trying to see what barely visible floating piece of crap they may have used to suspend their lines, and then avoid them at the last second. Steve did a bad thing and forgot to use sunscreen like Leslie had reminded - her last words, actually - and by sunset noticed that his legs hurt for some reason (Honey, I didn't plan on being in that stupid dinghy for 2 hours!). We made more chili-stuff with the other half of the pinto beans, and watched the day turn to night. The moon arose soon thereafter, full and beautiful, providing us with at least one night of semi-sight. Steve had fixed the ailing radar earlier that day, and it was somehow comforting to see electronically what our eyes dimly perceived. The night was cool - Nick actually put on a jacket, and if you know Nick, it must have been cool indeed. The shifts changed with little spoken: "There's a boat over there, we're 10-degrees off-course because of the wind direction, goodnight.".
Morning found us in Panamanian water (wow, we're in Panama!), and a black marlin was jumping around the boat just like on TV. We sailed through dozens of dolphins, one type we had never seen before - it was small, black and skinny - and they sure liked to jump a lot. Nick saw a whale while Steve slept. We keep a fishing line in the water, but were getting no bites. Oatmeal for Steve, scrambled eggs for Nick. Finally around 1400, the wind was strong enough to shut the engine down - at least for an hour. Then the wind died.
The rain was very light at first. Steve noticed that a couple of miles ahead, a dark row of clouds stood in our way, beneath which was clearly heavy rain. He asked Nick to stand on the bow while he took a picture of the black wall. They began preparing for the rain by putting away all the susceptible gear, and closing all the hatches. They were looking forward to some wind along with the rain, so they left the sails up. Once all was ready, Steve went below to use the head, and closed the companionway door behind him, leaving Nick saying "Thanks, man" from the helm.
The wall of water Nick passing the day
The heavy wind and rain came on quickly, pounding the topsides and rattling the rigging. The jib began flogging terribly, and Steve opened the companionway door to find Nick crouching behind the helm holding the starboard jibsheet in his hand. "The wind shifted, so I'm trimming to a port tack!" he said, his voice louder than usual. Steve entered the cockpit, and was immediately pelted by driving rain over the cabintop, forcing him down for cover next to Nick. A quick, although not exactly brilliant evaluation of the situation convinced Steve to say "Let's furl it - there's too much wind to sail!" He left the cover of the cabin wall, and grabbed the furling line, getting slammed by 50 mile an hour winds laden with what felt like 20% water shaped like small knives. The process took only a minute, during which the sails continued to flog themselves towards death, and the crew became soaked. Leaving the autopilot in control of the steering, they crouched into the cabin, and closed the door behind them. "We'd better take down the mainsail." Nick said, but Steve replied "It's not worth losing our life over! The decks are slick, and we can't see - if somebody falls overboard, the other won't be able to retrieve them with this mainsail up!" Nick said "Feel the mastpost!" He was right - the mast was shuddering so violently that the vibrations were transmitted to the cabinpost supporting it, and it felt like we were going to lose the mast. "Okay, we can't take it down, but we can reef (it from the cockpit!" The opened the companionway to see water falling vertically, and with such density that they couldn't see 50 feet. I'm sure somebody mumbled "crap" before we walked into the torrent, Nick taking the main halyard and Steve the second reef line.
They worked together to get the sail to about 50% it's normal size, when Nick said "Dad, look at the Dinghy!" Steve turned to see that it's support lines had shifted, and the dinghy was now hanging vertically from it's davits, presenting the greatest area to the wind. It looked like the davits were about to be ripped from the boat, so Steve grabbed the ends of the reefing line and the mainsheet, and tied the side of the dinghy that was now hanging down, an pulled it back upright, tying off the lines. Both he and Nick were wearing inflatable lifejackets, but this operation had Steve wishing he were wearing a harness tied to the boat as well, as he was working outside the stern lifelines.
Although the mainsail was reduced, the boom was swinging back and forth over the bimini (cockpit cover), driving the reefed portions of the sail into the solar panels installed on top of the bimini. Steve grabbed a line hung from the boom for just such occasions, and began to tie it to a stern cleat. The boat lunged, as the seas had built to about 10' and were incredibly steep, and Steve stumbled, the line brushing his glasses off his face. Nick quickly grabbed them before the fell overboard, and Steve completed the operation - wishing for the 2nd time he were tied-off to the boat.
Nick then went inside followed by Steve. However once inside, they noticed that the auto pilot wasn't holding course. Steve ran out, and was forced to hand steer, as the autopilot couldn't handle the pressure on the rudders. The rain at this point was coming at such an angle that you couldn't see anything. Nick gave Steve a pair of outrageously sweet sunglasses to keep the rain out of his eyes, because he couldn't even see the compass due to the driving rain hitting his eyes. The glasses helped some. Staying inside and becoming sea sick, Nick went down into his bunk to sleep this one out, leaving Steve stuck at the helm. The seas kept building, and the boat was hobby-horsing something awful. The solar panels mounted to the front pulpits began to pull away from their mounts each time the bow would raise up about 10', where the undersides would be caught by the wind. Steve was concerned that the attachments would fail, hurling them into the cabin windows, shattering them, but the panels held.
After about an hour, the wind began to abate somewhat, and Steve saw the windspeed indicator read 32. He pressed the buttons to see the maximum, and it read 81 knots - that's about 90 miles per hour! But we don't think it really got that high, maybe in the 60's. As the sun set, so did the last of the wind and rain, and Nick returned from his recovery room, ready to resume his shift he started 3 hours earlier. They rehoisted the sails, put on some dry clothes, and motorsailed in total darkness for about 2 hours until the moon rose.
The night passed uneventfully, watching the large freighters pass to our right, and passing closer to the smaller boats that like us, were staying closer to shore to avoid colliding with the freighters. The morning of the 5th found the intrepid crew eating pancakes and playing Nintendo, while the wind continued to be very light. We passed Punta Mala around 1200 - the last big turn on our way to the canal. We steered around another squall, and because of a favorable tide coming into the Bay of Panama, were able to make good time as we rounded this notorious point. The wind even picked up a bit and allowed us to make 6 knots for a few hours as we crossed the shipping lane, and into the middle of the bay. We dodged more squalls, but were finally surrounded at 1500, when we battened down the hatches and reduced sail. Steve noticed that they hadn't brought the liferaft out of storage, so he set that in it's place just in case. They really prepared well for this one, and it was bittersweet that it petered out just before striking, and all that was left was normal rain and about 15 knots of wind on the nose. The afternoon was spent keeping dry in the cabin, and keeping a sharp lookout for freighters.
For dinner they heated up the chili-stuff. Nick awoke Steve shortly after dark, as he had encountered two freighters up-close and personal, and all three boats had apparently stopped moving waiting to see what the others would do. Seizing the initiative, we acted first, and resumed course, the freighters resuming their courses after we left. Nick settled down to watch a DVD, but Steve was too paranoid about other boats, and stayed at the helm. It was a good thing, because things got a little exciting around 1900 when again, two freighters and Wabi Sabi met at a single location, except this time they didn't stop. Steve spent a stressful 15 minutes dodging them - he thinks they were chasing him just for fun - before the mess got untangled and everyone went back to their original courses. The rest of the night was uneventful, except that some wind filled-in in the early morning, allowing us to pick-up a little speed towards Balboa.
Panama City, Panama The Bridge of the Americas
Dawn on June 6th found us within 20 miles of Balboa, our destination. We had to check in with the authorities 4 separate times during the course of our picking up a mooring at the Balboa Yacht Club. We sailed through what looked like a graveyard of about 50 freighters, presumably waiting to transit the canal. The fuel dock guy said the offices were closed, and that we could do all our paperwork on Monday. Nick & Steve caught the next water taxi to shore, and found a taxi to take us to the nearest McDonald's at Nick's request. After gorging themselves, they returned to the boat to update the webpage, and get stuff for a day's exploring in town. While on the boat, the Port Captain came by, and filled out their check-in paperwork, and didn't even charge anything - we like this town already!
We went to shore via the water taxi they have at the club, as you can't leave your dinghy at their facility. We got a taxi and gambled by telling him we wanted to go the McDonalds, but this paid off. Soon, we were eating cheeseburgers, fries, and apple pies! Then we went to an internet cafe where we uploaded our recent adventures, and communicated with Leslie and Katherine. Steve had found the Coast Guard Documentation he had misplaced and asked Leslie to get a new one, and felt bad that after all of Leslie's work, it wasn't necessary. It was Sunday, so most of the stores were closed. The city is not too different than Los Angeles - lots of skyscrapers, concrete and asphalt, but very little old-world culture like you see in most of the towns we have visited. We visited a fairly modern grocery store, and got sodas, cookie mixes, and candy. We then went back to the boat, and had dinner, followed by oatmeal cookies - the first batch was overcooked (Nick liked them) and the next was undercooked (Steve liked them). We did dishes and general boat maintenance duties, including changing the fuel filters, and watched the first half of 'Captain and Commander' before the laptop battery gave out, as one of our inverters had died
The Balboa Yacht Club
The next morning we contacted Enrique Plummer, an 'agent' for cruisers who need or just want help in filling out the paperwork and getting clearances from immigration, the port captain, customs, agriculture, and the Panama Canal Transit Authority. He seemed like a helpful fellow, so we hired him, and he got to work, taking our passports and other boat documents with him. Steve got a taxi into town and found a new power inverter, as well as found a good place to buy an electric guitar for Nick. After returning to the boat and getting some diesel, the men went ashore for a few hours to go to the internet cafe and shop for his guitar. We somehow found ourselves in an ice cream store for lunch. After checking out 3 other guitar places, the first place seemed to have the best price, so there they went to get Nick's new pride and joy. We returned to the boat where Nick instantly began playing some of the rock riffs that he knew, and reading the book on how to play. We got some more diesel, and hooked some tires and fenders on the side of the boat - a prerequisite to transiting the canal. Apparently, you bump into a lot of stuff while going through the canal. Nick thinks we look like hillbillies. We cooked mashed potatoes, gravy, chicken (from a can), and peaches for dinner - followed by candy and such. We watched the second half of the movie, and hit the sack.
The morning of the 8th found us being boarded by the agricultural inspector, which didn't take long to see we had no fresh fruit or meat of any kind on board (sorry Honey, but we do have lots of canned fruit and string beans, and we eat a can each day). Next, the transit admeasurer came aboard, and measured the length and width of the boat, and we spent about an hour asking questions about our past experiences, boat equipment, travel plans, and transit preferences. He was a nice guy, and spoke fair English. Then, Enrique and Steve went to the bank to cash travelers checks and pay the $600 fee for transiting the canal. Steve then went to buy another Panama courtesy flag, as somehow our original one has been lost. Steve returned to the boat and installed the new inverter, and thoroughly whipped Nick at a James Bond game (of course Steve had 7 times the health and won only 1 out of 3 matches, but this was better than either expected). After updating the webpage, Steve went ashore to get laundry done and upload the new page. Upon returning to the boat and playing some Nintendo, Steve and Nick went ashore to the 'beer garden' we had heard about on the VHF radio, hoping to see some familiar faces. Alas, after almost an hour, no one we knew showed up at the open-air bar, so we went to a nearby TGI Friday's for dinner, where we had one of the best meals in Central America. We called our agent Enrique about the day of our transit, and was informed that it would be on Friday.
Big boat go by us at all times, making this marina the most rolley we have ever experienced.
On the 9th, we asked if anyone wanted to be a linehandler on our boat during the transit, and found someone from the sailboat 'Crows Nest' who was interested, so he came over to our boat and we got to know each other. We had previously found another volunteer on the boat 'Chewbacca', a man from a family that has been living aboard his boat with his family of 5 for many years. We spent some time getting the boat ready for transit, and went into town to find a new antenna for our Skymate satellite communicator, as our reception has been too poor for use. After visiting several stores, we settled on a model that wasn't exactly what we wanted, but hoped it would be better than what we have. We picked-up our laundry, and went back to the boat to install the antenna, which worked slightly better. It has been very humid every day, but the heat hasn't been too oppressive if you can stay in the shade. It rains every day, but not very much. The taxi rides into town cost about $4 each way - getting a ride from the club to town is easy, but almost none of the taxi drivers in town know how to get back to the club. We have taken to carrying a tourist map of Panama, and point our exactly where we want to go, but apparently taxi drivers can't read maps, and have no idea how to relate their location with it. Our Spanish is bad, so we end up just pointing in the direction we want to go. The main streets are so congested, the taxi's take the back roads, which are not on our map. To add to the problem, the streets of Panama are all curved, not straight, and about half the streets are one-way, so we are constantly going the wrong direction. We don't know who is more frustrated - us or the taxi drivers. We enjoyed our dinner so much last night, that we went back to TGI Friday's for dinner again, and sat up talking in the cockpit until we ultimately hit the sack.
Tourist map of Panama City - everything is crooked! Nick cooking Top Ramen for lunch.
On Thursday the 10th, we continued our preparations for transit, and went to the grocery store to get some food for us and our temporary crew of 6 total, the minimum number of persons on board to make a transit. One of the linehandlers will be a professional crewman, costing us $65 per day, but we felt it was important to have someone who knew exactly what to do and how to do it. We hope to make the transit in 1 day, because if we can't it will cost us an extra $515 dollars. On schedule, we called Enrique again to find out the transit time, and were informed we would be leaving at 0400 - dang, that's early, but it improves our potential for completing the transit in one day. Steve went to the YMCA to update the website and Nick played on the boat. They met on shore, and Nick went to TGI Friday's for a farewell ice cream and met a German girl and her mom, interested in why Nick would be all alone in a restaurant. Steve went back to the boat to bake sugar cookies for tomorrows transit crew. They played Nintendo until too late, and retired anxious for the next day.
At 0315 on Friday the 11th, Steve awoke, took a shower, and got the pancakes ready for his crew. The professional linehandler was supposed to arrive at 0330, and at 0400 Steve got worried. He called the canal authorities on the radio to confirm the pilot's arrival time, and was told it would be 0530 - good and bad news. The linehandler arrived at 0415, and Steve sent the water taxi over to Crow's Nest to get Tom, one of the volunteers. Steve made them pancakes, and at 0500 began to try and get the water taxi to pickup the other volunteer, but couldn't get any response until 0530. The Pilot arrived at 0600 on a canal authority boat, at about that time Nick woke up, and we were off on our day of high adventure.
Within 15 minutes, the pilot indicated that we were going to 'lock up' with a different boat - another hour's delay. Plenty of time to eat more pancakes. Finally, it was our turn, into the 1st lock behind a car carrier and a sportfishing boat. The Pilot and our professional linehandler were very helpful in explaining how things would happen - after Steve positioned the boat properly in the lock, the transit authority personnel would haul up our lines and tie them to the walls. Each of our linehandlers, one on each corner of the boat, would keep their lines taught as water entered the lock from underneath, creating quite a boiling effect. We went up about 20 feet, with letter event. Nick, as one of the linehandlers, did great of course. After the lock filled, the northern doors opened, and the car carrier engaged it's propeller to go into the next lock. Something went wrong on the sportfishing boat ahead of us, as the heavy propeller wash began to careen the small boat straight for the sidewall! With scant feet to spare, they got control of their lines, and avoided a collision. Our crew was rock-solid (especially after seeing what would happen to us seconds before the prop wash hit our boat). The captain of the sportfisher yelled at the crew something we couldn't understand, and we both proceeded under our own power out of the first lock and into the second. This process repeated itself 2 more times, until we had raised about 50 feet above the Pacific Ocean, and entered the lake portion of the Panama Canal.
Pulling into the 1st lock Nick handling a line as the water rises in the lock
Steve asked the Pilot if we were going to be able to complete the transit today, and he said probably not, as we were too slow to get to the other side in time. So, with the determination borne by an extra $515 fee for a two-day transit, Steve supercharged the engine, tossed all non-essential gear and personnel overboard and put the hammer down, making 7.5 knots in the fresh water of the canal. The Pilot, duly impressed, radioed his supervisors of our astonishing speed, and to make a long story short, was able to complete the transit the same day.
Completing the 2nd lock, looking back at the Pacific Ocean
Everyone but Steve slept most of the 5 hours it took to get from the Pacific locks to the Atlantic locks, during which he became somewhat comfortable playing chicken with the oncoming tankers and freighters of all sorts. It was an incredible experience, the canal zone being essentially rainforest, with dense growth all around for mile after mile. When we finally made it to the other side, we were able to side-tie to a tugboat in each of the 3 downward locks, so other than piloting close to attach lines, there wasn't much for the crew to do during the down-locking. A tanker pulled in behind us during each of the locking procedures, the overshadowing bow being appropriately impressive. Peering over the lock gates, we could see the Caribbean Sea, a first for most on-board.
Passing a car carrier on the wrong side Our first look at the Caribbean, tied along a tug
After clearing the 3rd and final lock, we motored hard 5 miles to the Colon area, where we let off the Pilot onto a canal authority boat, and took the other linehandlers to the yacht club to let them off at the fuel dock. They were great guys, and did a wonderful job protecting our boat from all the potential dangers. Steve and Nick proceeded to an anchorage area known as 'The Flats', and discovered that the crew had consumed almost all our reserves of soda. So, against warning from our agent not to enter Colon lest they detain us for not having proper papers (we cleared-out of Panama when we left Balboa), this was an emergency dagnabbit! We launched the dinghy in the twilight, and headed for town where we got a taxi to take us to a market and cleaned them out of Coke and Diet Pepsi. Another taxi back to the marina, and a pitch-black dinghy ride back to our boat (do you remember where we left it?), and our covert mission was successful. We fired-up the barbeque, and cooked some of the worst cheeseburgers in the free world. Have I mentioned that Central American beef is terrible? I don't know why I tried again. We concluded the evening with watching the movie "Kill Bill", and at 2200, we collapsed from a very, very tiring but exciting day.