The Panama Canal

Milly in the last Agua Clara Locks of Day One.  Sent to us by friends who were watching our progress.

We were ready - kinda, sorta.  On the positive side our dear friends, Gill and John, had arrived and were busy visiting with the growler monkeys and helping us with last minute tasks.  The pantry was full of fresh produce for our week after the transit.  Yoga mats were lashed around our solar panels to protect from flying monkey fists.  And then on the not-so-ready side, one engine was still leaking coolant after many attempts to fix.  Both toilets were leaking.  This was a secret hidden by a towel around the base of each - a prerequisite to crossing was a "working toilet".  To be fair, both were working, just leaking, one fast (the advisor was not invited to use this one) and one slowly.

 

The traffic as we loitered waiting for our Day One advisor to board.  Just a little busy.  Most boats on the at sea were at anchor waiting their turn.  According to our second advisor, who was a lot chattier than our first, the ships get a date when they apply and pay for their transit.  They try to arrive on time so don't have to wait around at great additional cost to their company. On the other hand, if they are late, they forfeit their place in line and their costly crossing fee. So timing is everything - tough in a sailboat but doable in a ship.

By far the most onerous job for me was the consideration and preparation of "three hot meals", another stated prerequisite for the transit.  Milly does not have a working oven.  The propane oven has always been a bother to start and use without the propane sensor sounding.  I have not used it in several years.  And the microwave/convection oven crashed when I used the microwave immediately following convection use when the oven was hot.  Not sure if it should've happened but something inside blew and it never worked again.  For the past year, I have been experimenting with a solar oven (more on that in another post).  It works beautifully but with four line handlers and multiple lines being thrown on board from above, the solar oven was a liability.  So I had to have as much of the three meals prepared as possible with last minute cooking/heating as soon as my line handler job allowed. 

Menu:  Day One dinner at the top in Lake Gatun - One-Pot Puttanesca.  A dessert of some kind - can't remember exactly what                                                                                                                                 Day Two breakfast - fresh fruit, yogurt and granola, hard-boiled eggs (to be faked as hot meal contribution), muffins, sweet breads                                                                                                               Day Two lunch prior to locks going down - Vegetarian or Beef Burritos with slaw                                                                          Snacks available in big bowl throughout - assorted granola bars, oranges, bananas                                           Individual sealed bottled water available throughout - this, too, was a prerequisite for the advisor.  "Sealed" was stipulated.

Cast of Characters

John...

...and Gill.  Taken just after the rain stopped and they are still sodden but, as always, in excellent spirits.  It was a wet, wet day - unusual in Panama where it rains hard for minutes and passes by.  This was a first for us with several hours of chilly drizzle.  JnG had just taken there jackets off and noted the weather reminded them of their English home.

Professional line handler, Santiago.  He was well over 6 ft and slept overnight with feet hanging off the settee in the saloon.  Charming and always smiling.

Line handler and chief cook getting pumped.

Our captain, nicknamed Pedro of Panama by the second advisor, intent on the job.

Our "professional line handler", Santiago, a charming, strapping, young nursing student arrived mid morning with four lines and eight large red fenders.  The serious lines were 140 feet long and over 1" diameter - nothing flimsy about them.  Our agent notified us of a slight delay in departure but we finally got the green light to leave the dock for the anchorage in Limon Bahia at the north end of the canal. (Intuitively, you might think that the canal runs east-west.  But, no, it runs north-south and even more strangely, the length of the country of Panama lies east-west.)

The long, sturdy lines.  One at each of the four cleats.  Ready!

Eight large ball fenders, four on each side.

Santiago walks Gill and I through the first step of preparing the line.  A large hoop is tied with trusty bowline at one end of the line.  The rest lies coiled carefully on deck quite far from the cleat so it won't get tangled with line handler's efforts.

After an hour of floating about in a constant rain - the agent had told us not to anchor - our advisor for the first day came aboard.  Peter, as captain, drives Milly under the guidance of the advisor who passes an exam and is licensed by the government to take private yachts under 65 feet through the canal.  Bigger vessels require at least one pilot who has further training. The monster ships require several.  The advisor arrived by pilot boat, we waited for the ship that was sharing the lock with us, rather we were sharing with him, to pass and get into the lock and then it was our turn.  Going up the locks, private yachts lie to the stern of the boss ships.  Going down the locks, Milly lay ahead of the ships.

The first advisor, delivered by pilot boat, arrives which begins our adventure in earnest.

Under the long and elegant Atlantic Bridge, built to allow traffic into Colon on the east side of the canal.  We took it to go grocery shopping in Colon from the marina on the west side.  A beautiful bridge but remarkably little used.  

During the height of the season when private yachts are crossing the canal to then cross the Pacific, most often three boats are rafted together with the longest and most powerful, wrt engine horse power, in the middle driving the two boats lashed to them on either side.  Most often this middle boat is a catamaran as they are more maneuverable with two engines.  Several boats we knew had this position - good, because the middle boat wouldn't be rammed into the lock wall and bad, because of the difficulty steering with two boats tied on and the added responsibility.  April 4th, our transit date, was at the tail end of the high season.  We were lucky to be on our own with plenty of room between us and the awful wall...if all went according to plan.

Peter sharing his seat with the advisor waiting to get into the first lock.  The current was strong and pushing the boat very close to the very large channel markers.  But all was well.  The advisor was rather serious and been on the job less than a year.  The advisor does just that - advises but is not allowed to take the helm.  

The red hulled tanker, "Style", 184.32 m long and 27.45 m wide, looks shrimpy compared to the mega cargo ship leaving.  

Style was our leader with whom we shared the first set of locks along with a tug boat, Brujo.   

Line Handling 101

These two guys began the operation by throwing down a light line with monkey fist (see below) at the bitter end. They are now sauntering in a relaxed fashion, jogging up several flights of stairs to our place in the lock.  Once they get there, they motion for the handler to let go and they haul their line with monkey fist attached to our blue line up, putting the loop on the end of the blue line around a bollard.  Behind them is a "mule" which runs on tracks and hauls the big, heavy ships into place.

This is a monkey fist.  It is about the size of a baseball.  The guys on land have a special wind up, holding the line attached to the fist about 1 m or so above it.  They swing it around a few times and then let it rip.  It sails through the air and lands with pretty good accuracy on the bow of the boat to avoid solar panels which could be damaged by the force of landing.                          




















The two stern handlers, myself and Santiago, grab the first throws and hustle to the stern begin careful to feed the line outside lifelines and shroud.  We then the monkey fist line to the blue line loop with a bowline.  The guys then walk forward to our place in the lock while the handlers hold the monkey fist end above our heads so it doesn't dip in the water or scrape along the uneven and rough side of the lock

The mighty doors of our first lock.  Once the blue line loop is around the bollard at the dockside end, the advisor motions/whistles for us to haul our end of the line taut and cleat it.

As the water comes into the lock and we rise, the line slackens and we have to haul it in to keep it taut.  Sounds easy but it's more challenging than it looks.

Hauling like crazy.

With a little more heft.  The water is turbulent and buffeting Milly around, pushing us to the port side.  John and I on the starboard side were doing our darnedest to keep us centred in the lock with the help of Peter on the motors.

Lots of current from the rush of water entering the lock at a surprisingly fast pace. Peter had to keep the motor on the entire time to control the position of the boat as much as possible.  Nonetheless, we managed and all felt pretty proficient until the last lock when....

...our advisor told the guys up top to place our port forward line across Brujo's port stern line.  The guys on the tug were paying no attention but as the water rose and we pulled our lines in, we came dangerously close to the tug.  Lots of yelling, Peter in reverse to keep Milly's bow off the boat, line handlers hauling. Finally, the lock was full and we were inches away from the unforgiving steel hull of the tug.

 

The Canal is 65 km long with three locks going up a total of 26 meters to Gatun Lake and three locks going down to the Pacific Ocean.  We were on the typical yacht schedule, leaving dock mid afternoon, going up the three locks, spending the night at a mooring ball in Gatun Lake with the crocodiles.  The second day is a long but interesting motor through the lake (about 23 km) and Guillard Cut which was the most challenging of the build cutting through 13 km of the Continental Divide ending at the Pedro Miguel locks  in which the vessel descends 9 meters to Miraflores Lake.  Onward to the final two-step Miraflores Locks going 16 meters down to the Pacific Ocean!  

We motored into Lake Gatun, directed to an enormous mooring ball.  So enormous that robust Santiago leapt onto it and tied us up.  Our large ball fenders, puny in comparison to this monster which was the height of our entire topside.  We weren't going to budge through the night.  After a hot meal, we all slept soundly.

Surrounded by ships on placid Lake Gatun.  Swimming tempting but not allowed.  Crocodiles in the lake are sometimes hungry.  Enough to keeping even the most intrepid on the boat.

A peaceful motor along the Lake Gatun marked channel and guided by our second chatty advisor.  

The Centennial Bridge crossing the Gaillard Cut.  The canal has only been shut down for one day since it opened in 1914 when there was a landslide in part of the cut, impacting the depth of the canal.

The maximum width of ship, called a Panamax, able to go through the original canal that we were going through is determined by the dimensions of the lock chamber 33.5m wide by 304m useable length.  The Panamax must be no wider than 32.31m which leaves a measly 0.6m on either side - a very tight squeeze. In 2016 a second set of locks opened for the ships called NeoPanamax up to 51.25m wide.  Massive!

A NeoPanamax

Our lock buddy on the way down to sea level through three locks.  Apparently, if the ships are coming into the lock too fast or lose control, a chain in raised from the floor of the lock to stop them before they hit the gate, potentially causing damage and resulting uncontrolled flood of water.  I'm unsure where this chain is located but I'm sure Milly would have been either mushed by the errant ship first and/or hit by the chain.  Luckily, there was no such problem.

Going down the locks is easier for the line handler.  The monkey fist is pitched from the wall when the boat is at the same height as the pitcher.  As Milly goes down into the lock, the handler lets the line slide through the cleat bit by bit.  No hauling, little braun.  

The last lock, the Miraflores.  The Pacific Ocean in view after just a short motor into the shipping harbours of Panama City.  

One hundred and fifty meters to the lock door and the Pacific Ocean and 900 meters to the lock doors behind us.  Incredible engineering feat!

Milly live as she enters the channel to the final lock.  When we left the lock and entered the Pacific, we were welcomed by a crocodile swimming across our bow. 

The Panama Canal is a major milestone in a circumnavigators agenda.  Milly is now in the Pacific, our second ocean.  Most go directly west, stopping in the Galapagos.  We are taking the less traveled passage north to Mexico.  But first a bit of exploring in the Las Perlas archipelago.