Panama Canal Transit

Rick, Tammy and Howard

Apologies to all friends and family who were watching the live webcam at Miraflores Locks. We waved and shouted, “Hello England!” and only found out later that the webcam had gone down earlier that day. Perhaps the massive electrical storm that we encountered on our transit caused the problem.

The raft behind us

 Almost everything went according to plan. As it was Easter Sunday, I went to an outdoor, sunrise  service at 6.30am and read a short piece. It was very moving to be singing songs and listening to readings and reflections, whilst thinking about the first Easter Sunday very early in the Garden of Gethsemane. After the service we shared hot cross buns.

Waiting for the gates in pole position!

Back on SD, we kept checking for an email from our agent, Erick. Nothing arrived. About 8.30am one of Erick’s staff delivered 8 large fenders and 4x125ft lines. Soon afterwards Erick stopped by and told us verbally all the information he had been unable to send by email.

Dawn on Gatun Lake

Howard telephoned to say he and Tammy were on their way from Panama City, but it would take a couple of hours. Next to arrive was Gabriel, our “professional” line handler, who proved to be excellent and an invaluable member of the crew.

Howard needed coffee in the morning

By 11.30am, Howard and Tammy had arrived and at mid-day we were all in the Dock Restaurant eating our Easter Brunch out of polystyrene boxes. There had been a misunderstanding and the restaurant thought we wanted takeaways. No worries, the food tasted good anyway.

Gabriel, Rick and Kathy

We left our berth soon after 1.00pm and anchored at The Flats. I made a Bolognese sauce for later. Our Adviser, Rick, arrived at 1540. We passed through Gatun Locks without incident, rafted up to two other yachts. Then we motored in the dark, as individual boats, towards two huge mooring buoys where we tied up for the night. It was almost 1930. Rick had eaten his supper in the locks. He left on a launch along with the other 11 Advisers. The rest of us had our supper and celebratory drinks. As Jeremy cleaned his teeth that night, when everyone else was settled in their bunks, a crown broke off.

Fender Woman

Rick arrived before 0700 on Easter Monday and had breakfast with us. All the yachts left the mooring buoys for the long motor to Gamboa at the start of the Gaillard Cut. Again, we tied up to two massive mooring buoys and our crew had lunch of ham and egg rolls. It started to rain, the temperature dropped, lightning flashed alarmingly close and thunder deafened us for nearly two hours. Rick shouted that we had to wait for a “neo”, which seems to be a pet name for the new, extra-large ships that use the new canal. There is only one Gaillard Cut so all other vessels have to wait at either end until the neo has passed through. We waited for 2½ hours.

Incredible raft survived the lightning storm

The rain stopped as we untied and motored towards Pedro Miguel Locks, where we rafted up three abreast again and the line handlers did their work. Howard worked hard on the bow and Gabriel covered the stern. Tammy was named “Fender Woman” as she roamed the decks with a fender at the ready to cover any gaps. We passed through the last locks, Miraflores, with their broken webcam and continued on towards the Bridge of the Americas. We untied from our raft as the sun set and motored towards Balboa Yacht Club.

Gabriel, going down Miraflores Lock

 A launch arrived to take Rick ashore. We were sorry to see him leave as he had been a great Advisor. Soon afterwards, a tender from Balboa Yacht Club picked up Howard, Tammy, Gabriel, the lines and the fenders for a charge of $12. Suddenly, Sal Darago was bereft of crew and we felt like it was 2.00am and the last of the party guests had just left.

The camera on the building on the left did not work

 Not expecting there to be a mooring available at BYC, Jeremy said there was no harm in giving them a call on VHF 06. I did and a tender arrived to lead us to a mooring, where we spent the next three nights.

The Pacific beckons and NO BROKEN PROP SHAFT