From Sea to Shining Sea

Author:  David
Location:  San Diego, California, U.S.A.
Coordinates:  32° 42.773’ N   117° 13.789’ W

We successfully finished the Baja Bash on Thursday evening, thereby completing our transit from the East Coast to the West Coast of the United States.

It took us 5-days, 6-hours to cover the 760 nautical miles. We were fortunate have nice weather for most of the passage—we had only one 24-hour period where it actually felt like a “bash”. We averaged just over 6 knots (about 1/4 knot faster than I expected), and we burned about 360 gallons of diesel fuel. All systems performed perfectly, and I was especially happy with the engine room temperature hovering around 100-degrees (due mostly to a new blower and stack installation).

As I wrote in my Before the Bash blog, Kathryn and Ayla were not aboard for this part of the voyage. I did, however, have a stellar crew in Dick and Todd, and I am very grateful for their assistance. They were skilled, disciplined, helpful, and cheerful—just what you want in a crew. We ran 4-hour rotating watches, so each of us was on for 4 hours, off for 8 hours. The seas sometimes made it difficult to sleep, but we all got enough rest overall to make it a pleasant passage. Thank you, Dick and Todd!

This is a very lonely stretch of coast. Many 4-hour watches passed with zero contacts, and most watches had no more than a single contact (usually a freighter). One cruise ship passed us on its way to San Diego, and we saw a handful of fishing boats when we were close to shore (near the capes). We saw one other cruising trawler as they exited Turtle Bay, but they were soon out of range because of their longer water line (65 feet) and therefore faster cruising speed. The radio was silent for most of the five days.

The fishing was terrible. We put two lines in the water almost as soon as we exited the marina in San Jose Del Cabo, and we caught 14 bonito before we rounded Cabo Falso (all of which we returned to the sea because they don’t taste very good). We thought this was a pretty good sign for the fishing to come, but it wasn’t: we caught only two more fish on the entire voyage! We caught one nice bluefin tuna, and it produced the best sushi I have ever eaten. And then we caught another bonito, which we initially mis-took for another tuna, but alas it was simply a bonito. We tried every lure in our fishing box, but there just weren’t many fish interested in this cruising trawler’s offering. Oh well—at least we had a couple good meals from the one bluefin tuna.

The wind and seas were excellent. We had been watching the weather for about six weeks before our departure, and it was clear that 2-3 day weather windows were possible, but a 5-day window would be unlikely. In the end, we got lucky, and we know it. We had one 24-hour period during which the wind and waves were pretty uncomfortable, but the rest of the voyage was quite mild. One day was so calm that Dick couldn’t decide whether his log entry should describe the seas as “glassy” or “oily”. Sweet! We went out on the bow that evening for happy hour, and the photograph makes it look like we’re at anchor. The skies were mostly cloudy/foggy with the typical Pacific marine layer, so we didn’t see much of the sun. The temperatures were mid-high 60’s during the day, and around 60 at night. Brrrr!

Wildlife sightings were numerous. We saw a handful of whales, all at a distance, and one gave us a beautiful view of its tail fluke as it dove. We saw dozens of seals lounging on the surface, especially on the very calm day. Pods of dolphins would show up daily to surf the bow wake. And we had a couple of stowaway birds ride along on deck for awhile. I thought we would see more whales than we did, but I didn’t expect to see so many seals—you just never know.

We arrived in San Diego one day earlier than expected because of our higher average speed, which was a bonus. I fully expected to be boarded (or at least hailed) by the U.S. Coast Guard once we crossed the border, but we encountered no military or law enforcement of any kind. We slipped into San Diego bay without incident, being greeted only by harbor seals lounging on one of the channel buoys. It was eerily quiet for such a busy port. Our check-in with Customs and Border Protection was uneventful, and we were soon moored snugly at Kona Kai Marina on Shelter Island.

We will stay here for about a month while Ayla finishes her school year and I travel for business, and then we’ll begin making our way up the California coast in mid-June. We’re looking forward to exploring the west coast of our beautiful country, and we’ll eventually make our way up to Seattle, British Columbia, and Alaska. It’s the start of another new chapter in our adventure!

Before the Bash

Author:  David
Location:  The Marina at Puerto Los Cabos, Baja, Mexico
Coordinates:  23° 03.750’ N   109° 40.508’ W

Three@Sea is about to embark on the last leg of our voyage from Florida to California: San Jose Del Cabo to San Diego. This 750-mile voyage up the west coast of the Baja peninsula is affectionately known as “The Baja Bash” by seafarers who ply these waters often. The prevailing wind, current, and waves are from the northwest, so we’ll be “bashing” into seas the whole way. Sounds like fun, eh?

The other challenging thing about this voyage is the rugged and remote coastline. The west coast of Baja is known as “the frontier” because it is the least densely populated stretch of Pacific coastline in North America. Possible ports of refuge along this rocky coast are few and far between, so we’ll be on our own out there.

And if that wasn’t enough, I’ve lost my crew! Because of the academic demands at the end of Ayla’s school year she couldn’t afford to be “off the grid” for a week, and the uncertainty of the weather schedule exacerbated this. So, Kathryn, Ayla, and Dilly bugged out and went to Boulder for a few weeks, leaving me on my own to break in a couple of greenhorn crew members!

Of course I’m kidding about the greenhorns: Our friends Todd and Dick are both very experienced seamen, and I’m looking forward to having them along on the voyage. And actually, I want to sincerely thank them for volunteering to crew on this less-than-ideal cruise. It’s a wonderful thing when you reach out to friends with a need, and they rally around the cause. Thanks guys! And it’s still Three@Sea—just a different three.

Our plan is to depart Saturday afternoon/evening and cruise non-stop to San Diego. Depending on our speed, that should put us into San Diego 5-1/2 days later, sometime on Friday. There are three or four places along the way where we could stop if we had to for weather or repairs; but as long as Scotty, our trusty Lugger main engine continues to hum along, and the wind/waves stay reasonable, we’re going to do it in one shot. The current weather forecast looks quite good, so we’ll keep our fingers crossed that it remains so.

As always, you can follow our progress on our route page, which I will update with our latest position about every 8-12 hours. Each location update also gets tweeted, so you can follow Three@Sea on Twitter to learn our progress. I often include sea conditions and fishing success in those updates, so you’ll get a feel for our experience.

See you in San Diego. Allons-y!

Baja ahhhhhh…

Author:  David
Location:  La Paz, Mexico

That’s how we feel about our latest location, the Baja Peninsula and the Sea of Cortez. Ahhhhhhh. Together they are a soothing tonic for our frayed psyches after spending the last five weeks hopping up Pacific mainland Mexico. Don’t get me wrong: mainland Mexico has much to offer, but it’s also a full-on cultural experience, and the dominant weather is hot and humid. We were all a little worn out by it, and if Ayla could have wiggled her nose and transported Three@Sea to the California coast, I’m sure she would have.

But now she doesn’t have to because we’re in Baja. Ahhhhhhh. We’ve been to three places already, and the whole region feels laid back and relaxed. It’s also the first time we’re feeling the typical California (Mediterranean) climate: cool at night, warm (but not hot) during the day, and low humidity. One thing we’ve all discovered on this voyage is that we’re not fans of hot and humid tropical weather.

We arrived on the Baja Peninsula a week ago after crossing the mouth of the Sea of Cortez from Puerto Vallarta in beautiful conditions. We landed at Marina Puerto Los Cabos, which is right next to San Jose del Cabo (about 20 miles ENE of Cabo San Lucas). The marina and surrounding resort is beautiful, and we settled right in. The first night we turned off the air conditioning, opened all the windows and hatches, and by morning we actually needed a blanket—perfect! The marina resort has a botanical garden and a sculpture garden, but my favorite feature is the beach bar built into an old steel shipping container. Oh yes!

Last Friday night we cruised up into the Sea of Cortez and anchored Saturday night at Isla Espiritu Santo. This area is can be described as “desert meets ocean”, and it makes for a uniquely beautiful setting.

On the way up we saw whales migrating, manta rays leaping out of the water, and the usual pod of surfing dolphins. The anchorage was well protected, and the water was clear and cool (about 72 degrees).

The anchorage we selected was actually between Isla Espiritu Santo and Isla Partida, and it is in the caldera of an ancient volcano whose sides have caved in. The geology along the shoreline is fascinating.

We had only one night to anchor because I have to travel tomorrow, so we pulled up the hook this morning and made our way down to La Paz. We are moored at the Costa Baja Resort and Marina for the week, but we’re planning to head out to anchor again next weekend, and we can’t wait! A good friend of ours is coming to visit the boat for the first time, and we’re looking forward to sharing a little bit of this crazy cruising lifestyle with her.

Buenos noches!

Northwesterly Progress

Author:  David
Location:  Barra de Navidad, Mexico (near Manzanillo)
Coordinates:  19° 11.721’ N   104° 40.935’ W

We’ve had a busy couple of weeks.

The voyage from South Florida to Southern California via the Panama Canal is approximately 4000 nautical miles. After leisurely enjoying the treasures of Costa Rica for almost six weeks, we have now made relatively swift northwesterly progress during the last sixteen days. We are now approximately halfway up the Pacific coast of Mexico, and we are three quarters of the way through our 4000 nm voyage. No, it’s not a race, but if we have any chance to reach the Pacific Northwest by Autumn (which is our loose plan), we do need to make tracks!

We departed Costa Rica two weeks ago, at dawn on a Friday morning, heading for the southernmost port in Mexico: Puerto Chiapas. This three-day passage followed a course that was pretty much a straight line from northwest Costa Rica to Puerto Chiapas, which had us cruising 50-70 miles off the coasts of Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala. We were sorry to skip all of these countries, but we’ve learned that you can’t do everything you want to do. Maybe we’ll get to visit them someday on the way back down.

We had pretty nasty seas for most of this passage, although not because of the well-known Papagayo Winds, which we purposely waited out. No, it was due to predicted 15-20 knot winds turning into 25-30 knot winds off the Gulf of Fonseca, producing short-period, 6-8 foot seas. Yuck! It’s in these unexpected seas that we are most thankful to be cruising in a Nordhavn. However, our little ship is not impervious: on the second day of our slog, a large wave hurled a poor sea turtle—at least that’s our strongest theory, judging by the plethora of turtles out here—into one of our salon windows, shattering the 1/2-inch tempered glass. Needless to say, we were more surprised than pleased! Fortunately the sturdy solar film on the window kept it intact, and we didn’t have to make any repairs while underway. The windows are designed to have storm plates fitted over them, so we are now cruising with a storm plate attached to that window until we can get the lower pane fixed.

We checked into Mexico in Puerto Chipas, which ultimately took us three days of back-and-forth to the various government offices. It also required an on-board inspection by the Mexican military (guns and dogs) to look for drugs and other contraband. The folks who run Marina Chiapas were extremely helpful guiding us through the check-in process—I’m pretty sure that without their advice and transport we would still be trying to check in! Marina Chiapas is a wonderful, brand new facility, and while there’s not much nearby to see and do, it’s a great place to get checked in and wait for a weather window to cross the Gulf of Tehuantepec. At the end of the first day we were legally in the country as individuals, which was just in time for me to fly out of Tapachula Airport for a business trip to Chicago. Whew!

Upon my return from a short business trip we were lucky to be presented with a calm weather window to cross the Gulf of Tehuantepec. This area is well known for the Tehuantepec “gap winds” that blow offshore, often at close to hurricane force. These winds are from Winter storms blowing the Gulf of Mexico, and the north winds get compressed and amplified by the Mexican mountains, producing the Tehuantepecs on the Pacific side. The strategy is to wait for calm conditions in the Gulf of Mexico, and then hug the shoreline in case the conditions change. We did both, and we had an uneventful two-day cruise to Puerto Huatulco. We spent three nights in Huatulco while I flew to San Francisco for a meeting (I’m getting to know all the small airports along the Pacific coast).

I arrived back at the boat in Huatulco from my business trip at 2pm last Tuesday, and we quickly got off the dock at 3:30pm for a 2-1/2 day passage to Zihuatanejo/Ixtapa. We fully expected to arrive in Zihuatanejo after dark on Thursday, but we were blessed with favorable current and seas, and we arrived just at dusk. Sweet! We spent only two nights in Ixtapa/Zihua, which was less than we wanted, but we needed to get to our next location before I leave this Tuesday to travel for two weeks straight.

We left Ixtapa/Zihua early Saturday morning, arriving here in Barra de Navidad (north of Manzanillo) on Sunday evening. We will stay here for two or three weeks while I travel a bit. We’re in Marina Puerto de la Navidad, which is associated with The Wyndam Grand Bay Resort, and it’s a beautiful facility—we feel a bit pampered. This morning the French Baker cruised through the marina in his boat, and we bought almond croissants and bacon quiche—nice! This whole area looks like a wonderful place to hang out for awhile, which is what all the southbound cruisers we met told us.

Except for the broken window, our cruising has been pretty uneventful. We have been cruising about ten miles offshore to avoid fishing pangas and fishing nets in the water—we would much rather deal with 800-foot freighters with AIS, than with “radar invisible” pangas. We expected to be cruising against the current most of the way up this coast, but it has turned out that we’ve either had benign or favorable current for most of the cruise. Other than our sloppy passage from Costa Rica to Mexico, the Pacific has proven to be quite docile—just the way we like it. 

We haven’t really had much of a chance to enjoy Mexico yet, but we’re looking forward to doing so during the next month. We enjoyed seeing Chiapas, Huatulco, and Zihuatanejo, however briefly, and the collective exposure gave us a feel for this coast. Now we’re ready to enjoy the sights, sounds, tastes, and hospitality of Mexico.

Tenga buen dia!

Costa Rica — Pura Vida!

Author:  Kathryn
Location:  Barra de Navidad, Mexico (near Manzanillo)
Coordinates:  19° 11.723’ N   104° 40.934’ W

When visiting the gentle country of Costa Rica, you will often be greeted by the simple phrase, “Pura Vida!” (pronounced poor-ah vee-da). You will hear it any time of day or night, by all types of people, in a wide variety of situations. The literal translation is “pure life”, which is certainly a lovely greeting to one’s fellow man. But the richer meaning lies well beyond the mere words, and instead resides within the hearts of the native Costa Rican people, who affectionately call themselves Tico’s.

Pura Vida may have as many nuanced meanings as there are people in Costa Rica. It could mean: 

• Have a wonderful day
• Wishing you happiness
• Enjoy life 
• Go forth, and be happy
• Celebrate today, and this moment
• Do what makes your heart sing
• May you enjoy all happiness

But all meanings share a common theme: appreciation for the joy and wonder in life. What is especially noticeable is this phrase is always delivered with a smile on the lips and a sparkle in the eye; and you just know it comes from their heart.

This genuine warmth may spring from the fact, that Tico’s live in a stunningly beautiful country, effusive in color and teaming with life. Their little slice of heaven (which is about the same size as West Virginia) also happens to be the perfect playground for the outdoor enthusiast. If you love the water, you can choose from the turquoise Caribbean or blue Pacific; or both, since they’re only about 75 miles apart. If mountains and hiking capture your imagination, there are volcanoes to scale, along with a wealth of primary and secondary forests to explore on foot. Birdwatchers already know that Costa Rica is their ground zero, with over 950 species waiting to greet them. Not to mention the monkeys, sloths, snakes, and plethora of other critters that share their trees and jungles.

In addition, Costa Rica’s rich volcanic soil and tropical location (between 7 and 10 degrees latitude) gives birth to just about anything that wants to grow. Roadside stands are giant cornucopias spilling forth mangoes, papayas, pineapples, coconuts, bananas, melons, avocados, oranges, peppers, and the list goes on. Along with bananas and palm oil, one of Costa Rica’s prized exports is coffee. Junior, at the Don Juan coffee plantation near Monteverde, took us from tiny seedling to a robust cup of coffee in one glorious morning. His knowledge of the process, deep pride of craftsmanship, and wry sense of humor created a truly delightful tour.

Costa Rica, both country and people, land and heart, is a true gem—while it’s a bit rough around the edges, its spirit sparkles. We are grateful to all who welcomed us to their lovely country with open hearts and arms.

The spirit of Pura Vida now travels with Three@Sea!

Road Trip

Author:  David
Location:  Costa Rica
Coordinates:  9° 25.679’ N   084° 10.123’ W

Over the long Presidents Day weekend, with our dear friend Bobby-O visiting us, we all took a road trip into the Costa Rican mountains to visit two of this country’s most visited attractions. The first is the Monteverde area, famous for its “cloud forests”; the second is the Arenal Volcano, famous for, well, being a volcano. Both sites exceeded our expectations, and we’re really glad we took the time to visit them.

We had been warned by Lonely Planet and others that the roads to and around Monteverde required four-wheel drive, so we rented a Toyota Rav4 for our road trip. We used its 4WD capability extensively, and it would have been even more necessary had it rained at all while we were in Monteverde. The whole road trip was about 300 miles of driving, much of it on dirt or gravel roads.

I didn’t know what a cloud forest was before this visit to Costa Rica. Essentially it’s a forest with a micro-climate that keeps the forest canopy almost always embedded in the clouds. The cool, moist air, combined with the natural fertility of the land, fosters a rich bio-diversity in these forests. “Eco-tourism” to Costa Rica was sparked by a 1980’s National Geographic article describing the wide array of bird species found in the cloud forests around Monteverde, including the elusive quetzal. The subsequent flood of bird watchers and other naturalists to the Monteverde area alarmed the locals, who valued this unique unspoiled habitat. They passed laws to severely restrict development, including keeping the surrounding roads unpaved—if you want to visit Monteverde, you’re going to have to work at it!

Monteverde is the original home of zip-lining, which introduced a relatively low-impact way to tour the canopy of the forest. We went zip-lining in the rainforest of Puerto Rico, so we opted instead for the “hanging bridges” tour of the canopy. A hiking trail combined with numerous suspension bridges allows for a leisurely (and less adrenaline-filled) visit to this amazing area. The plant life in these forests is as diverse as I’ve seen anywhere in the world, and we stood in awe at towering trees that formed their very own eco-systems, with more than one hundred species of plants. Beautiful and fascinating!

Although it’s a relatively short distance from Monteverde to Arenal by the way the crow flies, it is not possible to drive a car over the intervening mountain range. Instead, we had to drive around Lake Arenal, which is a large reservoir formed by a dam on the southeast end. The lake is beautiful, and it is home to some of the best windsurfing on the planet. The road around the lake is fully paved, and relatively empty, so we enjoyed a wonderful drive from Monteverde to Arenal.

Along the way we stopped for a tour of a Costa Rican coffee plantation. As a family, we all love coffee, and we like seeing where our food comes from. Our host/guide was very knowledgable and engaging, and we learned the whole process of creating coffee, from growing the plants, to harvesting the berries, to roasting the beans. Did you know they remove five layers of “stuff” from around the coffee beans to get them down to the state where we can grind and brew them? (In the photo below you can see the outer skin, pulp, and pectin layers.) How did somebody figure out that this would make the best cup of coffee? Amazing! When we finished the tour, we had a few cups of rich Costa Rican coffee, which made us all a little more chipper to finish our drive around Lake Arenal.

The Arenal Volcano is one of those perfectly formed cones that comes to mind with the word “volcano”. It was active (but not violently) until 2010, and visitors back then could see the glowing lava flows at night. Now there’s only a small stream of smoke/steam coming out of the volcano, but it’s still a spectacular site to see. We stayed at the Arenal Observatory Lodge, which is near the base of the volcano, but across a large valley that naturally protected it from former lava flows. This lodge was originally a research site run by the Smithsonian Institute; Now it’s the only lodging within the Arenal Volcano National Park, and it offers miles of beautiful and pristine hiking trails.

We arrived at Arenal Observatory Lodge on Sunday afternoon under beautiful blue skies, which gave us excellent views of the volcano. We didn’t realize how lucky we were until the next morning, when the clouds and rain completely enveloped the volcano. Even later in the day, when the rain had stopped, the clouds continued to hover around the volcano. The locals told us the previous day’s clarity was quite unusual, and we’re thankful we were there to experience it.

We had pretty good luck not getting lost on our drive to Monteverde, and also on the drive around Lake Arenal. The signage on the Costa Rica mountain roads leaves a lot to be desired, so we were often feeling our way along. Our luck dwindled on our drive home from Arenal to Quepos: The signage seemed to be even less prevalent, and we ended up having to ask for directions several times. Thank goodness Bobby-O was along to speak perfectly fluent Spanish with our local friends! We only really got lost once, and it didn’t take us too far out of our way, but we were all happy when we finally hit the familiar coast road again.

Bobby-O flew home yesterday, and his absence is definitely felt by all of us—as always, it was a great visit! Our time in Quepos and Costa Rica is coming to an end: we will transit up to the Papagayo area this weekend (northern Costa Rica), which allows us to stage for a longer transit to Mexico the following weekend. We’ll keep you posted!

Life in Quepos

Author:  David
Location:  Quepos, Costa Rica
Coordinates:  9° 25.679’ N   084° 10.123’ W

Sometimes our cruising life is quite extraordinary, and we never take those experiences for granted. At other times, however, our cruising life isn’t all that different than life that we might have experienced at home. This last week in Quepos has been more like the later—just living life.

We arrived here last Sunday after an overnight cruise from Golfito. The anchorage here is quite exposed (lots of roll from the Pacific), and I will be traveling on business next week, so we decided to check into Marina Pez Vela. This marina opened in 2010, and it’s a nice facility. It has a huge well-engineered basin with room for future expansion, although currently the marina is only about one third full of mostly sport fishing boats (there are two other cruising trawlers here). The best feature of the marina is its proximity to the town of Quepos: it’s about a 10-minute walk to town.

Shortly after our arrival we took a taxi up to El Avion, a restaurant on the side of the mountains with a spectacular view of the Pacific sunset. El Avion is notorious because it is built around an old Fairchild C-123 airplane that was part of the 1980’s Iran-Contra scandal. After the clandestine activities were exposed, and Olliver North found himself in quite a bit of hot water, much of the ill-gotten hardware supporting the pipeline to Nicaragua was abandoned in Costa Rica. An enterprising local restauranteur bought this airplane for a pittance, and moved it piece-by-piece to the mountainside outside of Quepos. It’s a beautiful restaurant, with a unique bar built into the fuselage of the old airplane. And the view of the sunset was spectacular!

The next morning, our first discovery in Quepos was Cafe Milagro, a wonderful coffee shop that sources its beans from local Costa Rican coffee growers. Although Costa Rica is well-known for it’s high-quality coffee beans, most of the good coffee is exported, so it’s actually somewhat difficult to find excellent coffee in Costa Rica. Cafe Milagro set out to change this for Quepos and nearby Manuel Antonio, and they have definitely succeeded. Ayla now likes to begin each morning with a walk to Cafe Milagro for a cappuccino.

On Thursday evening we went to the local Mexican cantina for trivia night, emceed in English for us travelers. We enjoyed a pitcher of (weak) margaritas and mild Mexican food (Costa Ricans don’t like spicy food). We answered a variety of questions, and identified some obscure music clips, sort of like “Name That Tune”. We didn’t win, but it was all good fun, and it was nice to rub elbows with locals and travelers alike.

Kathryn went to the farmer’s market on Saturday morning. The market actually begins on Friday evening, and all three of us walked through it together as a reconnaissance, on our way to dinner. Kathryn then went back in the morning with bags and money in hand, ready to stock the boat with fresh and delicious fruits and vegetables. She brought home great stuff—the mangos are especially magnificent!

Yesterday we ventured to Manuel Antonio National Park, which is right next to Quepos. There is a local bus that runs back and forth between Quepos and Manuel Antonio, and it was satisfying to use the inexpensive local transportation instead of a taxi. Manuel Antonio is one of Costa Rica’s smallest national parks, but it’s also one of the most visited because it’s right on the Pacific coast. We hiked through the jungle to two secluded beaches, and along the trail we saw sloths, howler monkeys, toucans, capuchin monkeys, iguanas, and some as-yet-unidentified ground mammals. It was very hot and humid (as it has been since we arrived in Quepos), so we were all a bit drained when we finished, but it was definitely worth the effort for the beautiful scenery and animal sightings.

So life goes on here in Quepos. I’m working. Ayla’s doing school. Mom’s taking care of everything else. It has been a nice quiet time after the frenzy of the holidays and Panama, and we’re recharging our batteries. Our friend Bobby O comes to visit next week, and we’re really looking forward to sharing this beautiful country with him.

Pura vida!

Breathtaking Golfito

Author:  Ayla
Location:  Golfito, Costa Rica
Coordinates:  8° 37.280’ N   083° 9.204’ W

Cruising into Golfito, Costa Rica this morning was an experience I had to share, for it was one of those rare moments in life truly marked as ‘breathtaking’ by the sheer magnificence of a surprising beauty. One of my favorite moments when cruising is going to bed with one scene behind me, and waking up to something startlingly new—not just kind of new, startlingly so. That was the scene this morning. 

When I had gone to bed, we were thoroughly alone, about 30 miles from the coast of Panama. A thunderstorm was rattling away in the distance, and from all directions, we saw the wide open sea. The speck of land in the distance was flat and uninhabited. 

Then, this morning! I stumbled into the pilothouse, still bleary eyed, to be greeted with a stunning image synonymous to exotic postcards, not my usual backyard. Keep in mind that, even through years of island travel, my family is used to the Bahamas, where the highest mountain is a resounding 207 feet, and the majority of islands aren’t more than a few meters above sea level. In other words, flat. Flat and barren, with craggily rocks, very few trees, somewhat desert-looking conditions, scrubby interiors, and sparse beaches. Of course, the Bahamas are beautiful, and I have fallen madly in love with their scenery, but the image of tropical islands for me has now been altered quite significantly, as of this morning. 

Mountains. Lush, rainforested, mountains ringing with the sound of life. The thing that hit me before I had even seen Golfito was the sound. Above the hum of the engine was the din of something else—the din of thousands of little lives, from insects to birds to snakes to who-knows-what, all singing in the subtle splendor of their existence. You know when you hear a loud noise, and your ears ring for a few minutes afterwards? It sounds a little bit like that, only pleasant. Not just pleasant, awe inspiring. Seems a bit like hyperbole, I know, for its really just a hum, but its such an exciting hum, because its the hum of something beyond human noise. The sound I hear in class, at breakfast, when reading, isn’t the sound of honking cars, airplanes, or voices—its the sound of the natural world raising its song in praise of its spectacularity.  

The second thing that struck me were the mountains. Its weird when you expect to look out the window and see sky, and instead you see a wall of brilliant, emerald green coursing into the air with force and exuberance. Those are these mountains—if it’s possible for mountains to exude emotion, these would be dynamic, abounding with all sorts of pride and cheer. The mountains in this bay are interlaced with each other, creating little bays, and ups and downs in the skyline. The water—a tealish green color, very different from the Atlantic waters I’ve gotten used to—hits the shore without warning, like the mountains just rose up out of its domain, synchronizing with the sea. 

Next was what was on the mountains. It’s all a bit fuzzy without glasses, so once I had found those, what made the mountains so spectacular came clear to me. I can’t even begin to name all of the types of flora on the mountainsides—vines and trees and bushes and huge leaves and tiny leaves and berries and flowers and moss and an arrant abundance of life. At first, the color seems so uniform—green. But you look a little closer, and realize that couldn’t be farther from the truth. All kinds of green—emerald, olive, forest, neon, light, dark, shadowed, sunny. Aside from the green, there are other colors, too—violet, gray, lavender, yellow, orange, peach, colors we don’t even have names for. All splashed together like an over-exuberant artist with a passion for bustling beauty. 

Then came civilization, though not like I had expected. Being pleasantly surprised is brilliant—I love the feeling when all your jaded or hard-edged predictions are painted over by the warmth of something your eyes find truly stunning. Civilization can be so artistic when set against the backdrop of a rainforest, and sticking out—right between the dense trees and still water—are the houses. Bright, shocking houses gleefully shouting their existence to passing boats, with hot pink, green, blue, purple, orange, red, and every in-between you can comprehend sort of sloshed together in a cheerful, welcoming array of happiness. There’s an old story about the city Lunenberg up in Canada, that describes the houses along the shore as a “jellybean jar.” Very applicable here, too!

Since we’ve been here a day now, more details are clear, like the eclectic boat-type-things whizzing all about, the occasional smell of fish as a big fishing ship heads in, the smiles of the welcoming and chatty fellow cruisers (so great to be back in a cruising community). We’re anchored just off of the Land and Sea Cruiser’s Club, swinging on the hook in the middle of the bay. On shore, there are bright green and yellow clubs and houses mounted on stilts—half mountain, half sea. Up the mountain which shadows our bay is a little old graveyard, speckled with the typical, Spanish cemetery style—eclecticism, all different heights, spacing, colors, and decorations. The busyness of this little bay is subtle—in fact, it could seem lazy upon first glance, but its a chaotic amalgam of cheer, nature, boating, and a way of life inextricably linked to the sea is what makes its energy so purely unique. I can’t wait to spend the next few weeks in this lovely cove!

Panama Canal Transit Logistics

Author:  David
Location:  La Playita Marina, Panama City, Panama
Coordinates:  8° 54.798’ N   079° 31.651’ W

Wow! That was quite an experience!

As most of you know, we transited the Panama Canal from north to south (Caribbean Sea to Pacific Ocean) over two days. We passed through the three Gatun Locks on Wednesday evening, spent the night in Gatun Lake Wednesday night, and then passed through the Pedro Miguel and Miraflores Locks on Thursday morning, arriving in the Pacific Ocean early afternoon. Although it is possible to complete the transit in one day, we were thrilled to stretch it out over two days—why rush something like this?

It all begins when an official from the Canal Authority comes to your boat to fill out a bunch of paperwork and measure your boat. We worked with an agent to assist with the transit, so our agent arranged for the Canal official to be at our boat on Monday morning (New Year’s Eve day). Part of the paperwork authorizes the Canal Authority to put you through the locks in a number of possible configurations:

• Sidewall: The side of our boat is against the lock wall, and you may or may not have other boats rafted on your other side. This is the only configuration we declined to authorize because of possible damage from the rough sidewall.
• Nested (sidewall or center chamber): Tied (rafted) to one or more other boats, and then the raft is either tied to the sidewall or suspended in mid-chamber with four lines. We could be rafted, but we would not be against the wall because we declined sidewall.
• Center Chamber Solo: Suspended in the center of the lock by four mooring lines, two to each side of the lock.
• Rafted to Tug: Tied to the side of a tugboat that is tied to the side of the lock.

Once all the paperwork was finished, we were told we would receive a transit date by the end of the day. This is apparently a light time of year, so later that day we were informed that our transit date would be Wednesday afternoon. We were very happy because often you have to wait a week or two, and we only had to wait two days. Some of this had to do with our agent “working the system”, but it is also early in the season for southbound transits.

On the morning of our transit we received our full transit schedule:

• Pilot boarding time: 1646/02nd
• Arriving Gatun locks: 1816/02nd
• Clearing Gatun locks: 1936/02nd
• Mooring Gatun lake: 2005/02nd
• Resuming transit: 0630/03rd
• Completing transit: 1330/03rd

Our agent arrived at our boat at 1400, bringing with him two Panamanian line handlers and six tires. Our two hired line handlers, Eddie and Omar, were with us from then until our arrival at La Playita Marina on the Pacific side, and they were wonderful to have aboard. The Canal requires you to have four adult line handlers, so Eddie and Omar augmented Kathryn and Ayla. The six tires were suspended on each side of the boat to augment our own fenders, and we were glad we had the extra protection.

We exited Shelter Bay Marina at 1600 and proceeded to the anchorage near Cristobal Station where we would pick up our pilot. Although they are called “pilots”, they are actually “advisors”, as I remained the captain and pilot of our vessel during the transit. The pilot communicates with the Canal Authority and lock masters to coordinate the transit, and they provide valuable guidance to the captain and the crew during the transit.

Once the pilot was on board we proceeded to the entrance to the Gatun Locks. As we approached the locks our pilot communicated with the lock masters to figure out the configuration. We went through the Gatun Locks with a 450’ freighter, a tugboat, a pilot boat, and a sailing catamaran. Under normal circumstances they probably would have rafted us with the sailing catamaran, and then suspended the raft mid-camber. Unfortunately they were short-handed in the lock, so they didn’t have the personnel to facilitate a center-chamber raft. Since the sailing catamaran had authorized a sidewall configuration, they put them on the sidewall, and then we rafted to the catamaran. This was not ideal because we were so much heavier than they were, so I had to use forward and reverse thrust during the locking to keep the raft straight (and prevent us from crushing the catamaran against the wall). It all worked out fine in the end, and we exited the third Gatun Lock about an hour later.

By now it was dark, and we proceeded to a mooring area that was off the main channel. A launch came to pick up our pilot, and then we cooked dinner for ourselves and our line handlers. The sailing catamaran was also moored in the same area, and we would be transiting the locks with them the next morning. We had a nice dinner, and then went to bed early. Our line handlers slept on the settees in the salon and pilot house.

The next morning our pilot (a different pilot than the previous day) arrived at about 0615, and we were off. We had about 20 miles to cruise across Gatun Lake to the Pedro Miguel lock, so it was a relaxing morning once we got underway. Kathryn and Ayla prepared and served a wonderful breakfast to everybody, and we cruised across the continental divide. We passed about a dozen northbound freighters on our way to the locks, and we learned that we would be the first southbound locking of the day. When we were within about eight miles of the Pegro Miguel lock we stopped for about an hour because we were ahead of schedule. We hooked up to a mooring near Gamboa, and just hung out for an hour. There was a passenger tour boat moored in the same area, and we learned that we would be transiting the locks with it and the sailing catamaran.

We approached the Pedro Miguel lock just as the last northbound freighter was clearing the lock, so we were able to proceed right in. Our pilot and the other pilot consulted with the lock master, and they decided to transit us center chamber solo. The passenger tour boat tied to the sidewall, and the sailing catamaran rafted to the tour boat. I was thrilled because this was my preferred configuration: no interaction with any other vessels or walls—just floating in the center of the lock with four springy lines holding us in place. Sweet!

We entered the Pedro Miquel lock, and four messenger lines were thrown to Three@Sea by men on the lock sidewall. The messenger lines had monkey-fists on the end of them, so everybody had to pay attention so they didn’t get knocked out by a flying messenger line. Once the messenger lines were caught, each one was tied to one of our four 150’ lines, and the men on the lock sidewall pulled our 3/4” lines to the wall. They then walked forward with us until we were in position, where they put our lines over bollards on the lock wall. Our line handlers then pulled in the excess line to tighten us in position. As the lock drained, each of the four line handlers had to pay out line, trying to keep us centered and straight. Eddie, Omar, Kathryn, and Ayla all did a fantastic job keeping us suspended in the middle of the lock as we descended to the Pacific Ocean.

We cleared the Pedro Miguel lock and proceeded to the Miraflores Locks (two connected locks), where we transited with the same configuration. Descending is more mellow than ascending: there is very little turbulence when a lock drains, so it was quite relaxing and enjoyable, especially since we weren’t rubbing up against anything.

We exited the Miraflores Locks into the Pacific Ocean! This was a very profound moment for us, and it is difficult to describe in words. We have been talking about transiting the Panama Canal since the moment we began this journey, and we had finally done it—very moving.

We rendezvoused with a Canal Authority launch that took our pilot back to base, and then we proceeded to La Playita Marina where we are currently moored. Our two line handlers left us at the marina, taking a cab to the bus station, and then taking a bus back to the Atlantic end of the canal.

Kathryn, Ayla, and I sat in the salon and let the reality wash over us. We had set a very aggressive schedule for ourselves, and it had been quite a Holiday Season. We are now poised to cruise an entire new part of the world, and we’re ready to go!

“Thank you” to all of you for your well-wishes as we crossed the Caribbean and transited the Canal. It is very meaningful to us to have so many of you following along, encouraging us at every step. We look forward to sharing the Pacific coast with you!