We were warned…
We had been told that the times, they are a changing at the Panama Canal. And so they have. But Picton Castle must traverse this here canal in order to find us in the Pacific Ocean. We are pretty keen on that.
While it may not be obvious in all these downpours we are in, they have been having something of a drought here in Panama. Gatun Lake, the man-made lake that feeds the locks of the Panama Canal, is down about 7-8 feet. This as rainy season gets underway. They are all hoping for a very wet rainy season hereabouts to fill the lake. But with an El Nino year in command, no one knows. Here in Panama, when speaking English, they call ‘El Nino’, ‘the child’ or ‘the boy’ as one might, translating from the Spanish. Gatun Lake, created before 1914 to establish a reservoir for the canal, which works by gravity fed water from Gatun, also, not surprisingly, is the source of fresh water for cities as well. Lots at stake here with the lake being low.
We had been warned that the wait time for a canal transit could be three to seven days. Last time we just swooped in anchored, prepped and transited the next day. This time our wait ended up being five days. Not the worst. You see, they need to maximize the filling of the locks with ships to, in part, not use any more water than necessary. And they do not start the clock on your waiting room time until your ship is anchored at Caribbean/Atlantic side of the canal zone. Which, by-the-way, is on the north side of Panama. The Canal goes from the NW to the SE into the Pacific Ocean, not east and west.
So, after a nine day, downhill rollercoaster ride of a 1100 mile sail from Saint Martin in the NE corner of the Caribbean, we anchored at Colon/Cristobal just inside the breakwaters on the west side of the harbour. Hook down, boats hoisted aboard, yards cockbilled and a few more things, and we waited. Of course, we had to get inspected. As we have come to expect, our ship baffles the inspectors. Not big, not tiny, no pilot house, no air conditioning. The big one seems to be that we do not have windshield wipers on the wheelhouse windows. When this question comes up, and it always does, I must point out that along with no windshield wipers, we have no wheelhouse either. Shrugs all around.
And we waited. It was hot, hot and steamy, jungle steamy. The harbour looks none too clean so swimming is not a thing. Sleeping on deck not too reliable a prospect with thunder storms every night. Across the harbour the city of Colon has a poor, nay horrible, reputation, so we do not go there. But there is Shelter Bay Marina. A lovely spot a short skiff ride away, with a pool, a bar, a nice restaurant and lovely staff – and air conditioning. Management seemed of mixed opinions on how much to welcome the Picton Castle crew. 20 people every night dropping plenty bucks, seemed something of a selling point to me. One boss said, “sure, all welcome,” another said pay money for docking the skiff and every time anyone swam in the pool, $5. If anyone cared. I think one guy did and no one else. We paid, of course. There was nowhere else for us to go as we awaited a transit slot for this famous canal. We needed shore passes too.
The big day came. We were to have a daylight transit. Our gang was on standby at 0500. We were told to expect pilot boarding at 0600. Then at 0630, and again at 0730. We were ready and raring to go. Anchor at short stay (almost hauled up), engine all warmed up – all briefed and in readiness. Just as the elegant pilot stepped aboard the Picton Castle, the heavens opened up with a biblical deluge, but go we must, or it could be another five days. Into the wet valley we thundered…
The pilot and I quickly adjusted to each other, as he got us right up to the canal entrance. An extremely capable guy. This first entrance is a bit hard with a fresh breeze astern as it happened. Hard to go only two knots with a strong following breeze. But we managed just fine. A dozen or so line handlers pile aboard before the locks to manage the wires that hold us to the mules (locomotives), which in turn haul us through the locks. Then the first three “flight locks” that take the ships up into the lake. The skies opened up again. We were following the heavy lift ship Annie. And then we shoot into the lake. Steaming along in a steamy jungle lake. Jungles to our right and left. Big HUGE ships at anchor here and there for some reason. Ships following us and ships passing us in the other direction north bound. Three or four hours to the next locks that take us down. But first at Gamboa, sort of halfway, we switch out pilots. We say farewell to Captain Bernard and welcomed the new pilot aboard – and onward.
These “mules” are powerful pieces of gear. Solid electric locomotives in cogged tracks. Very powerful. For a big ship they may use 8 or 16. As we came into a lock I was a bit worried that we were going a bit fast at three knots. Don’t worry, I am told, the mules are strong. I said I was not worried about the mules…. Sure enough, after a powerful braking, we dislodged the port aft bitts. The others all fine. We had torqued those bits last time we went through these parts. The fore bits are beastly strong and are welded to the ship. You could lift the ship up with them. Midships bit are new too. But the after bits are original, sooooo…. But no worries, we carried on without trouble. The pilot knew what to do, and by then we were partners in this affair with mutual respect in clear evidence. All was serene aboard the Picton Castle.
Soon down in salt water, Pacific Ocean water, the pilot looks relaxed. We are headed for two moorings off the old Balboa Yacht Club on the east side of the canal almost at the end. We need to be here for a spell for easy access to provisioning and such, before heading onwards. We find out as we steam into position that there are not two moorings available and that we must anchor the bow and use a stern mooring. The ship needs to stay in line with the stream and not swing out into the canal. Big ships, and plenty of them going by all the time. So, we slithered and snaked in and around some long derelict abandoned yachts, dreams evaporated long ago, dropped an anchor and backed down between these sad craft and picked up a mooring for the stern. Getting dark now and a very long day astern of us, we will rig down later, tomorrow. Some tired. But noooooo, turns out four boat loads of provisions including frozen, are on the dock and headed our way. Ok gang, back to it, pitter patter, let’s get at ‘er…. And so went our day on the Panama Canal.