Panama Canal Day 1

With laundry and provisioning to do, parts to be ordered and line handlers to find, we were already frazzled by 9am Saturday morning.  By this time, I had already pestered the Shelter Bay Marina office for the use of their land line to call a taxi, been given a cell phone, been refused by two taxi providers, found one to take us, but the cell phone kept on dropping out making communication near impossible, on top of my pigeon spanish and his pigeon english proving seriously prohibitive.  But I had a taxi coming to pick us up and a time secured.  Hurrah!  

Next step, line handlers.  After being referred by two other boats, we doorstep Beez Neez on Saturday morning begging for some assistance.  We quickly realise we have hit the jackpot.   Pepe is super excited to help, jumps onto the pier and gives me a huge hug.   She offers up husband Bear and then asks friends Dee and Eric to help us.  Dee and Eric are just about to leave for another transit, but agree to help us out on Monday.  For them it would be back to back transits, arriving back Sunday night and leaving again Monday afternoon on Toodles.  Mammoth effort.

Our taxi arrives to take us to the supermarket.  Unfortunately, they think they are taking us all the way to Panama City, an hour journey and $250, rather than the 10 minute drive to the supermarket.  An angry cell phone conversation in Spanish back to the taxi boss ensues as I stand sheepishly next to the taxi van thinking perhaps my Spanish wasn't quite as accurate as I thought.  The taxi takes us to our preferred supermarket and we load it up to the windows with food.  We spend the afternoon packing the provisions away before Pepe and Bear arrive for sundowners to check out the boat.  

The next morning's mission is laundry, most importantly the sheets to make up the beds for our lovely line handlers.  Usually I would do it myself, but time being of the essence, I take it to the laundry lady, who for some reason has just failed to turn up that day.  I check back at the laundry every hour, while we service the engine and generator in the meantime, but she still hasn't arrived by mid day.  An office lady has taken up post at the laundry, but she is only taking orders for the following day.  I explain to her that we are leaving the following day and I'll need it by noon.  She appears to understand English completely and reassures me that all will be well.  We spend the rest of the day doing chores, cooking meals for the following day's crossing and other general boat stuff.

Monday arrives, but the laundry doesn't.  I check in again every hour, then half hour as noon approaches.  The new laundry lady does not understand my Spanish or English, and I try to ask whether the bag that still sits unwashed will be ready for mid day.  I have also been attempting to do the laundry myself, but all the machines are full with the laundry lady trying to catch up with the neglected loads from yesterday.  I send Gary to pick up the laundry at 12.30pm.  He arrives back with the laundry, with the exception of two pillowcases never to be seen again, most of it damp and the rest decidedly wet.  I do my best to make up the back cabins with the less damp sheets, hoping the warm air with dry them before bed time.

Our newly recruited line handlers arrive on Toodles - Pepe and Bear from Beez Neez, and Dee and Eric from Sirena of Oare.   

An extra crew member, Bed-z the Teddy Bear, arrives with Pepe and gets prime position by the winches to watch all the excitement.

Bed-z the Teddy Bear

The hugs and good vibes coming from our crew relaxes our nerves.  We wave goodbye to Shelter Bay and are finally on our way.

Leaving the marina

We head out to "the flats" anchorage and wait for our canal advisor.  

One of the boats that waits with us to go through the canal is African Queen, a beautiful multimillion dollar trawler.

"African Queen" the amazing trawler

We chat away and munch on crisps until our advisor arrives at 4.30pm.  We see a pilot boat arrive and deliver an advisor to African Queen and assume we will be the next stop.  Our assumption is wrong.  In true, efficient Panamanian style, each advisor is sent out in their own pilot boat.  

(from left) Dee, Eric and Bear sighting the pilot boat

Our assistant arrives

Once aboard, a discussion between the advisors of the four boats around us begins on the radio.  One of the sailing boats is refusing to raft up.  This means that, instead of the yachts rafting together and the multi-million dollar trawler going alone, the trawler instead has to be the centre of a raft with two yachts  on either side.  I can just imagine the dollar signs spinning in the owner's eyes, thinking of the scratches to his paint work.  

With those instructions in hand, we make the approach towards the canal.

Bear and I, taking in the view

Approaching the first lock

There is a few tense moments when we do raft up, once we are close to the first lock.  Our advisor tells us that we will pass the spring lines (middle lines), and the trawler will pass us the fore and aft lines (front and back).  We approach slowly, Gary at the helm.  We shout to the line handlers on the trawler to pass their lines, but they don't understand (we find out later that they were told we would pass all the lines).  The trawler has some hired local line handlers, in addition to the crew, so there is a wee problem of the language barrier also.

We throw them our spring lines, while they run around and try to find lines to throw. The front line is found quickly.  But our stern begins to drift away, making our "pointy end" drift into them, in a horrible T-boning fashion.   The stern line is still not forthcoming, and there is no one at the stern of the trawler who can help.  Gary "politely" insists that our assistant use the radio in his hand to contact the trawler's assistant and ask for them to send a line handler aft to pass us a line.  But he continues to delay, and doesn't make the phone call.  Our bow is now uncomfortably close to the shiny blue paint of the trawler.  "Get the lines off!" Gary yells, so that we can drift away without hitting.  But our advisor confuses matters by telling our line handlers to hold on and secure the lines.  A few angry words are passed between Gary and the advisor.  Our lines are detached and we drift away without touching.   

Our second attempt is much smoother, with all lines sorted and our "advisor", now no longer speaking to us, not interfering.

Rafting up

Nervously looking at the small gap between us

Now rafted, we head towards the locks.  

The trains or "mules" that pull the cargo ships from either side of the lock

Once inside the lock, we do a final check of the fenders.  Usually the boats closest to each wall takes the lines from shore, but as African Queen is so big, she takes all the lines for the raft.  This means we can sit back and enjoy the show.

The heavy lock doors close, and the lock fills with water.

The current from the water flowing into the lock pushes the raft around, and we readjust the lines.

View from the top of the lock

Moving into lock two

We are told that lock two is where the live canal cameras point towards.  We head to the bow to wave at the cameras, and hopefully to Mum and Dad who are watching.  We make excited phone calls to the parents to check if they can see us.  

Moving on to the final lock, and nearly done for the day, the sun begins to go down.

Line handler ashore throwing lines

Double doors of the final Gatun Lock

We finally reach Gatun Lake of the canal at about 6pm.  We anchor not far off and devour the lasagne I had prepared earlier.  After a few celebratory drinks, we all head to bed for an early night, before a very early morning.