07:15 Line handlers show up -- Mark from FELIX, Bob from REALITY, and Alphonso -- in pouring rain.
08:15 Call from MG saying our advisor has shown up...an hour late. We cast off and follow SADKO and PENDRIA out.
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09:00 We raft with MG and power our way into the first lock. Brasilio is our jovial advisor. He's in pilot training and hopes to be one in a couple of years. The guys high on the wall above throw monkey fists across our boats from both sides; we tie our lines to them and they are pulled up and placed on bollards. Our line handlers job is to keep the boats centered by taking in the lines as the water comes in and we rise to the next level. The gate behind us is closed and the lockmaster announces, "Water coming in!", over loudspeakers. And come it does; reminds us of the swirls in the inland waterways of the northwest. |
10:00 Out of the lock and into Miraflores Lake where we'll be for a while.
11:15 Moored at the Pedro Miguel Boat Club. It's a pretty iffy mooring. We've got our bow tied to the concrete bulkhead with stern lines out to buoys that don't look that secure. We spent the rest of the day looking around the boat club. It's a pretty nice place. The clubhouse is big with a large kitchen and plenty of room to feed a large group. There is a shop building with tools we can use. They have a telephone we used to call Dad and Mom at the lake. Sis and Maggie were there too.
Had our briefing from Russ, the club manager:
- Keys to gate, clubhouse, & bar
- Washing machine free for 2 weeks
- Use of woodshop is free
- Kitchen and utensils free
- Free rides to town with Russ
- Power and Water included in mooring fee
- $24.00 one time fee plus $0.20/ft per day or $6.00/ft/mo
Went to Colon with Dick (PENDRIA) to check things out. Took the express bus over, had to stand the whole way, an hour and 15 minutes. Cost a buck from the bus station to the Panama Canal Yacht Club, a really nice place. Took the train back to Pedro Miguel, a beautiful one and one half hour trip. Changed our water filters and filled the tank from the dock...the water is safe here.
WINSOME FLYER called and said our computer parts were here from Seattle, so Lois and I took the bus to Panama City and then a taxi out to the Balboa Yacht Club. I took the launch out to pick up the parts and mail. Thirty know wind and lots of waves. Had Mingo, another taxi driver bring us back to Pedro Miguel.
No luck on the computer. I took out the circuit boards, found the 256K chips were in sockets and I replaced two of them. On startup the erroe code had changed and the parity check message doesn't come on. I tried putting the old chips back in...same result. I'm stumped, dead in the water until I can get some professional help.
Pot luck in the evening at the boat club. Several micro computers there but none with 5 1/4" drives.
Called both Dick and Kristy this morning. Lois feels better now.
As Lois was doing her last load of wash, the alarm went off. Our bilge pump had quit and the bilge was filled with water. We hooked up the fire hose, started Gimmy, and, for the first time, tried our emergency bilge system. It worked! The bilge was dry in less than a minute. Rather than go into it after a long day's work, we just shut down and poured ourselves a martini. Later Arthur, Diane, and Lily stopped by to trade movies, then Bill and Deb came home with "Crocodile Dundee #2" and we watched that. Good fun!
Made some progress on the computer. Craig Owings, a local government employee, offered to assist with shipping by U.S. mail and I found an outfit in Miami, Nymex, which can replace the system board for about $350. Should have it back in a couple of weeks. A lady named Faith at Compaq in Houston (713-370-0670) also suggested that I "dry out the computer". I'll try that in the morning before I pack it up.
Packed up our computer in an old packing box Russ gave me and asked Craig to send it to:
Nymex
6161 Blue Lagoon Dr.
Suite 160
Miami, FL 33126
Attn: Kevin Prior
Called Nymex and told them I was sending the whole computer. Called Nan and asked her to send mail as of 10/1 to Pedro Miguel.
Back at PM we found that the tug wash had moved the buoy to which we and all the other boats in our part of the marina were tied. We had been up against the bulkhead again and our stern lines were slack. If we stay much longer, I'll have to put out a stern anchor.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Got my mailing lables on the computer but Craig wasn't here so it didn't get mailed yet. Bill and Deb came over after dinner with "Three Men and a Baby"--funny movie.
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Due to my computer problems, I'm missing the last two days of September. Oh well, you were probably getting tired of reading about my maintenance problems anyway.
Another potluck this afternoon, this one a going away party for "Wind Psalm", a boat that has been here seven months. I met a couple of interesting guys. One is Dick Stiles who flys little airplanes, and the other Mel, a hydraulics man from Seattle who got me all excited about a power windless. Dick's phone numbers are: Work 85-4355, Home 63-1154. Mel's is 27-3533.
Also got to play with Arthur's little Zenith laptop computer. It's a real machine, not a toy, with a 20 meg hard disk and a 3.5 inch floppy drive. His printer is also tiny and quiet, an inkjet. Amazing!
Next we went to Dimar where I traded my 38" belts for 40" (These now fit the alternator), then to Novey's where I bought some other junk, and finally to Casa Mar where Bill left me and took the taxi on to his medical appointment. The driver at Casa Mar which, incidentally, is guarded by two uniformed guys carrying shotguns, took me far out in the boonies to another shotgun guarded storeyard to see their chain. Unfortunately, the links of this "G7" chain are too long for our wildcat. Too bad, it looked like good stuff.
Back in town I found the bus terminal and rode the bus home. Spent the rest of the day taking the windless off and doing other little jobs around the boat.
We never knew just how long the PML Delta would last, so hung around the TV most of the day listening for the next bulletin. When Sailorr called and said bullets were flying near the Balboa Yacht Club (Right next to Noriega headquarters) and that they had been ordered to leave and go to Isla Taboga Lois and I went out in the pouring rain and put our chain and anchor back aboard -- I didn't want to be without it if we were ordered to move! Tried calling Nan and Nymex about our computer but couldn't get an international operator -- not surprizing considering the situation.
Not much else going on today. Things on the way to town were no different than they were whenb we went in Monday. The much advertized Military Police were nowhere to be seen and the streets were crowded with people going about their business in spite of PML Delta.
Checked the sea screens and engine zincs this afternoon. The zincs are in good shape but the screens were full of crap -- mostly wood chips (?????)
Called Mel at Marcos who said our windless would be finished this afternoon, and also got through to Nymex. They did get the computer and it is in work but I couldn't get a return date because neither Leo or Kevin were in.
Another potluck at the club tonight. Not as many people this time but the food was good.
Today was kind of a quiet day at Pedro Miguel. I have everything ready - I think - for our hydraulic installation so spent the day loafing. Ann and Len invited us and several other couples to a brunch in the manager's apartment in the club and Ann did a super job on it. Haven't had that good a Sunday brunch since we were at Roche Harbor in the San Juans. Len is secretary of the Boat Club and, while they normally live on the boat he's rebuilding, when Russ and Jerry leave on vacation he and Ann move into the apartment. Really nice people!
In the afternoon I finished reading "Path Between the Seas" by David McCullough. The story of how the canal came to be is one of which I'd been only vaguely aware, and McCullough's history makes you understand some of the roots of today's problems. On that subject, we are still in what the Southern Command calls PML Delta, the most restrictive limitation on U.S. personel movement short of evacuation. I've been to town a couple of times in the last week and have seen no sign of trouble, but it does put a damper on what we'd like to be doing in the way of sightseeing.
While waiting for the Marcos crew Jeff, a young woodworker showed up and made a pattern for repair of our settee, the laminations of which had given up in the high humidity. He says he'll be back to install the new arm on Wednesday. Also called Nymex and got hold of Leo. He says our computer is working like new and will be shipped today or tomorrow.
Spent the rest of the day defrosting the freezer and draining the oil from the hydraulic system. Now we're ready to load the freezer with meat and hook up the hydraulic hoses. We might be able to move on out to the San Blas next week after all.
Jaime and Ricardo showed up about 1:00 with our reworked motor and all the hose and fittings, so we went over the whole system again. Turned out we were one fitting short so, since tomorrow is a Panamanian holiday, I decided to ride back with them this afternoon to get it. I did, got the part, brought it back, and then found that Ricardo had inadvertantly taken one other critical fitting back with him. Oh well, you can't win them all; and I'll have plenty to keep me busy tomorrow.
Spent the rest of the PM helping Harold put his windless back together, a tougher job than taking it apart. There's a sequence you have to follow which isn't obvious. We did the job about three times before we got it right!
By the time I got through and got my tools put away I was pooped! Couldn't even stay awake through a movie, "Beaches", that Lois had rented on the base, courtesy of Ann. I left her, Bill, and Deb to see how it came out.
It was after noon when I got back to the boat. Lois had gone shopping again with Ann who seems to have really taken to us and always seems to be doing something for us. I went to work cutting and fitting my final section of hose. By the time I got that done and the reservoir filled with oil Lois was back and we were ready for our first test. I started the engine, went below to watch for leaks or other problems, and had Lois open the main valve -- nothing seemed to happen -- no pressure change, no leaks, no nothing! I had put in three gallons of oil so I stopped the engine and checked the level in the reservoir -- something had happened; the level was down. I added another gallon and we started again. This time I moved the selector valve to the generator position and the cruise generator ran as it should, so I put the valve back to the windless position and went to the forward deck for the big test. Wow! When I turned the ball valve handle the windless turned! We won't have to crank no more!
Had another potluck at the clubhouse tonight -- this one more to my liking. We took our own main dish -- Lois' famous chicken -- and a potluck salad. That way I get the best of both worlds: don't have to share Lois' cooking -- which is always the best -- but have a chance to sample other things if they look good.
I spent the rest of the day cleaning and painting the windless and hydraulic motor which will be exposed on the deck. I used the two part epoxy primer left over from our haulout. It sure seems to be good stuff. I mixed up about half a pint, painted everything I'd planned, and still had some left over which I gave to Bill. He painted some things in his bilge, his anchor, and several other things before the seemingly bottomless can was empty.
Lois spent most of the day taking inventory. We'll probably do our heavy provisioning early next week. We'll plan for two months without access to supplies -- from what we hear the San Blas are no place to shop for anything but Molas.
It's hard to believe that we've got to extend our visas next week -- we'll have been here a month! Time does fly when you're having fun! If we can get that done and our supplies on board, maybe we can get out of here next week before we grow roots.
Pedro Miguel is quite a way from anything in the way of restaurants so we've been eating in, but today we decided it was time for a dinner out. Cecil, our neighbor on the dock, recommended a place which had looked good to me when I gone by in a taxi the other day. Called La Cascada, he said it had the best food for the least money in town. We tried calling a taxi but, after two failed attemps and an hour wasted, ended up riding the bus in to Balboa then hailing a cab to the restaurant. When we got there it was closed but in the parking lot a pretty young lady gave us a map to another restaurant, Las Castillitas, run by the same guy and, it turned out, with the same menu. We weren't disappointed -- had the best barbequed spare ribs we've tasted since we ran out of the Price Club ribs I bought in San Diego.
By the time we got through with the officialdom it had started raining. We made a halfhearted attempt at finding a Social Security office that we'd been told was in Balboa; but soon were soaking wet so decided to go grocery shopping instead and took a cab to the big supermarket, GAGO. Panama is sure a strange place! You have two quite widely differing cultures side by side and they seem to meet in the supermarket. There right next to the big bags of Lay's Potato Chips at $3.79 are the funny little Panamanian tortillas which look like small English muffins. At GAGO you can buy practically anything you'd find in a U.S. market but at a premium price. We stocked up with canned fruits and vegetables, soups, soaps and paper towels and napkins, saving the meats, booze, and beer for another day when we can buy them more cheaply at another store.
We were back at the boat by 2:00 and Lois went to work stowing stuff while I reinstalled our now-powered anchor windless, all shiny in its new coat of white paint. Can't hardly wait to do the first real anchor haul!
The rest of the day was spent with more shopping. Stopped by Marco where they still didn't have our bill ready, went out to a place called Formas Universales and bought a couple of cartons of computer paper so we can keep the good news flowing, stumbled into a neat place for a beer and a "free" lunch (the lunch was free but the beer cost a buck fifty -- it was a bargain!), and ended up at the Dorado El Rey where we bought another $216.00 worth of meats and other groceries. All we need now is fruit juice, beer, and booze and we'll be ready to go.
Beer and juice day! As we had the last couple of days, we caught the bus on the other side of the railroad tracks which we rode to Diablo to drop off some more pictures of ourselves to Wilma (She had trusted us to bring them in), then we climbed on another bus and asked the driver to let us off at the Balboa post office. He forgot and we ended up at the terminal, but then arranged for us to immediately transfer to the next bus back at no charge and this time the driver was very consciencious about dropping us at the right place. We really could have gone to the post office later but he was so nice we couldn't turn down his free ride.
At the post office we mailed off some copies of our home movies, then flagged a beatup cab with an English speaking black who was very proud of being a West Indian. He took us through one of the most disreputable parts of town to a rambling supermarket called Machetazo where Lois and Deb had gotten some juice in large boxes at a much better price than the stuff in the little individual containers. No luck! As in Mexico, if you see it and like it, you'd better buy it now because it'll be gone the next time you look. We ended up going to GAGO again, where they had the best price on a good tasting dark beer called HB. There we loaded up with 192 boxes of fruit juice and 240 cans of beer -- that ought to keep us for a while!
Back at the boat we stowed our haul then, because it was a cloudy, misty day, I went to work scrubbing our rail with teak cleaner. This is the first time in a long time that we've been where we could do a good job with fresh water. What a difference it makes to get the black of months off the surface! After another one of our potlucks tonight we managed to get through to Kristy and Bob to find that they hadn't been squashed by the earthquake. They'd been wondering if we'd been shot in the revolution. Everybody runs their little risks.
We got off the bus with lots of other people headed for the Zone; and, as we'd been advised, took a taxi to the entrance of this interesting place. The scuttlebutt has it that this Free Zone is second in size only to that in Hong Kong, and I can certainly believe it! We walked for block after block of streets lined with stores such as you'd see in a modern shopping mall, all stuffed with name brand merchandise from every part of the world. Perfume to truck tires, gold jewelry to varnish or French fashions, in this two and a half square mile area I suspect there's nothing you couldn't find if you kept looking long enough. That was our problem -- we were overwhelmed and worn out in a couple of hours. And all we were doing was looking. We didn't even try to check prices. We've been told by various people that bargains are available -- if you are knowlegable and negotiate a bit -- but today we were just looking.
Interestingly enough, we couldn't find a single restaurant or place to sit down in the whole complex, just street vendors selling hot dogs or fried chicken; so, when our legs finally gave out, we caught another cab across town to the Panama Canal Yacht Club where we could get a beer, a hamburger, and a much needed rest. We fooled around there until time to catch the train back to P.M.
The train ride, although not as plush, is a lot more scenic and interesting than the bus. The train runs closer to the canal and for more than half the way runs along the shores of beautiful Gatun lake, sometimes crossing an arm of the lake as the roadbed takes a shortcut to its destination. Gatun is unique in my experience, a huge lake with hundreds of islands and I'd guess a thousand or more miles of green shoreline all completely undeveloped. The water is clearer than that of Coeur d'Alene and there are fish jumping everywhere. Since it is all within the Canal Zone I suppose that there can be no private property, but it's hard to understand why there aren't a bunch of boaters and fishermen, sport or otherwize, out enjoying the lake. Other parts of the ride are interesting too; long tunnels though the jungle lined with Birds of Paradise, open savannas with miles of Pampas grass brushing the sides of the car and filling it with tiny, floating, seed pods. Unlike the bus, all the windows of the train can be opened -- in fact, must be, if you want to see out, because they're so dirty that through them the world is only a blurr. The other nice thing about the train was that it was almost empty; we had lots of room to stretch out over two of the big double seats and enjoy the scenery.
Back at P.M. about 5:15 (only 20 minutes late) after a nice relaxing and fun day. Tomorrow we'll go to work again.
Looks like we'll probably move out of here next Tuesday, rafted again with Margorie Grace. Bill and Deb have been making the final push -- he had stuff to be painted all over the shop today. Russ was supposed to get back from the States today but we didn't see anything of him. Hope he gets back before we leave -- all the mail for Pedro Miguel, including ours, is in a P.O. box for which only he knows the combination.
While cleaning up the Metz I discovered that another tank of mixed gas for the Johnson had gone bad on us. This time the tank had been almost full, sitting in the Metz on the front deck under cover for the last month. I noticed that the fuel in the transparent filter looked milky and, when I checked by dumping the fuel out of the tank into a bucket, it was all the same milky color it had been when we had the problem in Puntarenas. The fuel in the jerry jug which we store in the deck locker was still good. We've never had that problem before, even leaving mixed gas for months. Must be the heat and humidity.(?????) I may have to buy another jerry jug and mix the fuel in smaller quantities.
We sure see a variety of ships coming through the canal. Today a German ship with the pilothouse far up over the bows rather than near the stern came through. It had a huge loading ramp on the stern; and, on the deck, in addition to several landing craft, was a yacht which I'd guess was between 80 and 100 feet long. We've been here long enough now to recognize ships on their return trip. The "Sea Bridge" came back though yesterday and, in case I mentioned it before, I was wrong about the structure on its deck when it went north -- the huge framework labled Port of Baltimore must have been left at Baltimore. One of the pilots said he thought it was the frame for a land based container handling system -- he was probably right.
Back into the model room we went, but this time he activated the system which operated a voice recording, a slide show, and lights on the model which gave about a fifteen minute summary of the canal's history and traced a ships movement through the locks. After that he took us into the theater, sat us down in two of the hundred or so chairs, and gave us a private showing of the official Panama Canal Commission video presentation, twenty to thirty minutes, again on canal history and operations. When that was over he asked where we were from, thanked us for coming, and gave us a couple of pictorial maps of the canal. We talked for a few minutes and found that our host's name is Tony Granal. He's black, born in Panama, went to college in the States, speaks very good English, and has worked for the PCC for four years. He told us that we could probably get a copy of the video from the Graphics Division at the administration center in Balboa.
All this time there had been twenty to thirty people outside in the observation area, but no ships were going through and there was nothing to see. I'm not sure why we got the special treatment. We were the only obvious Gringos there, but that hardly seems a reasonable reason. As we left through the "No Unauthorized Personnel" door another young man asked us not to show the pictorial maps around because they didn't have many to pass out. Strange, but nice it worked out for us. We didn't learn a whole lot that we didn't already know from McCullough's book and being in the canal for a month, but it sure put things in better perspective. We were very glad we took the time to do it.
Called Mom & Dad this afternoon to tell them we'd soon be moving on. It may be our last chance at a telephone for a while. They both sound great. Dad said they'd already had a big "monthly" birthday party with 47 people, and were planning on celebrating his at Marie Calendar's.
Another cab ride took me to Marcos where our bill was ready, but wrong. After about an hour of negotiating we settled on a final price of $845 which I think is a very good deal for a power windless -- if it works like we hope it will. Jaime was a big help in straightening out the bookkeeping of the office staff.
After that I went to Novey's on a last minute shopping spree for stuff like Rust Buster and paint thinner, then back to the PCC cafeteria for lunch and to wait for our video. It was done about 1:00 o'clock and another cab ride, by way of the Shell station for 10 gallons of lubricating oil, took me back to P.M. just after Lois arrived.
The rest of the PM was spent stowing stuff, then a last goodby potluck at the club. Heard some bad news there -- the post office box for Pedro Miguel in Balboa has been broken into and the mail scattered all over. No telling when, or if, we'll get the package of mail Nan sent on the 2nd of October! Oh well, just one more of the hazards of the nomad life!
By 8:30 we were ready: water tank filled, power cords stowed, lines loosened and ready for cast off -- waiting for Harrison to come out in his dinghe and drop the lines from the bouys. Still, we just barely made it because he ran into trouble retrieving one line from a piling. It was 9:15 before the two pairs of boats were tied together and heading into the lock. Debbie's step sister, Mary, and a friend, Richard, had come along as line handlers. With Lois and Deb, that made up the required four for the "unit" and that is barely enough, especially for an unpracticed operation. I can understand Jose's concern. All went well though. Deb came over to our boat and handled the bow line, Lois took care of the stern, and before we hardly knew it we were through the lock and into the Gaillard Cut. The ride through the cut and Lake Gatun took about four hours. We run a little faster than the sailboats so by 2:00 o'clock we were at the Gatun locks, drifting and waiting for the others. As I think I've said before, Gatun lake is about the prettiest lake you can imagine; and, except for the ship channel, is almost completely deserted. The water is clear, clean, and warm with lots of fish showing, and dozens of little islands and coves. It's hard to understand why a population center of two-million- plus doesn't make more use of it.
Margorie Grace and Sailorr arrived about 45 minutes after we did, but Shaharazade didn't make it in time for the last downlocking of the day; so this time we became a raft of three, MG on our port and Sailorr on our starboard. That made it easy on Lois and me -- we just had to provide power for the group; others did all the line handling. There are three steps down on the Gatun side and it is quite an impressive sight to look down 85 feet over the three sets of gates to the channel below. I'm sure that is the highest altitude the old Sea Raven will ever attain.
By 5:30 we were through the locks, down the channel, and anchored on the "flats" at Christobal. A pilot boat came out and picked up our advisors and, for the first time in quite a while we were swinging gently on the hook. Lois agreed that it's a nice feeling. We came though the day unscathed, but both Margorie Grace and Sailorr had problems. MG lost a shifting cable -- fortunately he has two and the one below still works, although Bill has to yell down to Deb to do the shifting for him. Sailorr started overheating and Bob and Verna had to slow down and creep into Christobal. They both plan repairs tomorrow. We've got our fingers crossed -- right now everything seems to be working.
Because of that near miss, we got the first chance to use our new hydraulic windless -- worked great! It pulled that chain and anchor right up, along with about twenty pounds of mud from the bottom. What a mess! We spent the day cleaning up that mess and the one from yesterday's transit and then helping Margorie Grace with their fueling. Bill's got some kind of a venting problem with his tanks and it took us about three hours to get 190 gallons into them.
I called Nan collect from the pay phone in the club -- the Panama phone company won't let you make a credit card call from a pay phone. I told her about our missing mail, and guess what -- about ten minutes later it showed up! Craig had salvaged what he could off the floor of the post office. Don't know if anything is missing but he tried to find anything with our name on it.
Lunch and dinner at the yacht club. We're told it's the best restaurant in town, and from what little we've seen that's probably true. The food was good, and we ate while listening to another of the tropical squalls beat on the roof. By the time we were through and had had a cup of coffee it was gone and the stars were out. Tomorrow we'll head off into the Caribbean Sea.
9:30 Off and running toward the harbor entrance. Once we cleared the harbor mouth, a quarter mile break in the long breakwater, it didn't take long for the seas to remind us that we should have dropped our poles before leaving. They weren't very high, maybe three to four feet, but they were coming from every direction at once. We stopped, put out the poles, dropped in the foils, and went on our more comfortable way. It's only 19 miles from Christobal to Portobelo and there's not much to see in between. The coastline is low and green, the sea full of trash. We dodged logs and piles of seaweed just as we had in the Pacific Northwest. Went through a couple of rain squalls, but nothing exciting. We did develop one small problem on the way -- the low oil pressure alarm sensor is leaking. I managed to contact Bob on Sailorr who is going to Panama City tomorrow and he said he'd see if he could find one for us. For now I'll just remove the sensor and plug the hole; we still have the oil pressure gage.
12:30 Anchored off the north battery guarding the entrance to Portobelo. What a pretty place! It's a bay about a mile and a half deep and half a mile across open to the west. High hills shadow either side of the entrance and a small village is at the southeast end. On both hills fortifications remain from the days of the Spanish Galleons. A fairly large river - at least at this time of year - must run into the head of the bay because we anchored just on the edge of the fresh water flowing outward over the salt water. When I went in for a swim there was barely a taste of salt. The area where the fresh and salt water mix must also be favored by the sardines and their predators because both the pelicans and fishermen in dugout canoes worked it all afternoon.
We didn't go ashore today. The rain cleared up and the sun was hot, so we dried and stowed the lines we'd used in transiting the canal, then just lay around enjoying the peace and quiet. We are the only yacht in the bay, the only boat except for a dozen or more cayucas. I think that is what they call the dugout canoes here. These appear in general to be smaller and more finely built than the pangas and launchas of the Pacific side, but that may be just here in Portobelo. Seagoing canoes may be larger. The fishermen are mostly trolling, holding a line in their teeth or around an arm while they paddle their canoes at a fairly fast pace. One stopped by and showed us a small sierra, a bonito, and one other fish the name of which I didn't catch. The fishermen are friendly, but not pushy -- didn't even try to sell us a fish. Right now we don't have room for one in the freezer anyway.
About four thirty we were just finishing up some of our little chores when there was a sound which almost scared both of us to death. Fromn the depths of the lazarett, which Lois had open airing, came a roar of escaping air, or steam, or something. In half a second my mind had gone through everything down there and nothing fit! The only thing I could remotely imagine could be happening was that the hot water tank in the engine room had blown and that steam was escaping into the lazarett. I shut off the fresh water pump to keep from loosing our water and headed below. By the time I got into the engine room the sound had stopped and nothing looked amiss there. I turned the water pump back on -- nothing, there was still pressure. I was completely mystified as to the source of that heart stopping sound! Could it be a fuel tank that somehow had become pressurized? It wasn't until Lois asked if I had any paint cans in the aft lockers, one of which might have exploded, that the light dawned. A paint can could never have sustained that ten second roar but something else back there could have -- our dive tanks! Sure enough, when I opened the hatch they both looked OK but when I felt them one was cold. I'm not sure how it can happen -- I've never had one apart -- but somehow the valve had failed catastrophically. In any case I'm glad it turned out to be that instead of something critical.
Other than for that bit of excitement the day was calm and peaceful. We sat on the deck, sipped our martinis, and watched the sun go down in the western sea just as we've done so many times in the Pacific. It's sure hard to keep your directions in these parts!
That was all before breakfast and, after I'd cleaned up, cooled off, and had something to eat, we set off exploring. We went first to Fort San Fernando off which we are anchored. Its lower battery sits almost on the water and looks to the west toward the bay entrance. We parked the metz off the narrow beach, climbed the stone paved path to the fort entrance, and waded through the wet and mushy grass growing on the inner floor to the walls. The fort looks like we imagine it might have looked soon after it was first abandoned in the 1700's. Three quarters of the guns still lie with their muzzles pointing through the ports. The wooden caissons are gone of course; but the guns, though somewhat rusty, still look like they could be fired. There were sixteen guns in the lower battery and a parapet with narrow viewing ports at each end of the stone wall presumably for the spotters who gave the aiming orders. Between the lower battery and the upper ran a deep, stone walled trench up which men and materials could be moved without exposure to fire. The bottom is now badly eroded and full of weeds and, since no one was shooting at us, we climbed the hill along the edge. The upper battery is much like the lower except that it has a better view from an elevation of perhaps 150 feet. From there we took pictures of the town, the bay, and the Sea Raven down below. There is one more fortification on this side, on top of the hill far above, but it must be another half mile up through steep jungle; so we decided we'd seen enough on this side, worked our way down, and ran over to the village.
At the village is a still more elaborate fortification, Fort San Geronimo. We tossed our our anchor and, with the help of two small urchins, tied the painter to the muzzle of a gun at water's edge, and climbed over it into the fort. Here about thirty guns had provided the last ditch defense of the city. Behind the fort is the remains of an old church as well as the "modern" Church of the Cristo Negro with its statue of a black Christ (The Cristo Negro is black in color only -- its features are as Caucasian as mine, even if somewhat better looking). On the other side of the fort are the remains of the treasury building, a large, two story stone structure which was used to store the loot brought overland by mule train. It is an imposing structure with some beautiful arches on the lower level.
The village itself is a grungy little Latin American town, not very clean, and certainly not very pretty. As we were walking through the narrow streets we happened by the migracion office and were immediately accosted by the migracion officer (a nice little old lady uniform) and two men in military uniform. She wanted to see our passports but was very friendly and not upset when we told her that we'd left them on the boat. I promised to bring them back later and that seemed to make her happy. I got the feeling that she just wanted something to do. The only other tourists we saw all day were Latins, probably Panamanians, and I doubt if she gets much business.
Back at the boat we found Margorie Grace on her way in. We watched her anchor and then went over to chat for a while. Later I took our passports back to town as I'd promised and, after she'd copied some information from them onto one of her forms, she thanked me and answered a few of my questions about Portobelo. Bill and Deb came over for dinner and we watched the videos of the canal transit, including one that the PCC guys had given us called, "Rapid Transit", a stop-frame movie which makes the big ships look like they are going about fifty MPH. It's fun!
In late morning when the rain became a light drizzle Bill and Deb went over to the town to tour the forts there and by the time they got back we were ready to haul. We ran together out and around the point to Playa Blanco where Mike Starbuck, a HAM active with the cruisers nets, lives. It's a nice little bay, but small, and he didn't seem to be at home, so we went on to Isla Grande about six miles farther to the east. Isla Grande, and the several other small islands around, seems to be a Panamanian resort area. There are a number of nice houses, several multiple unit buildings which could be apartments or hotels, and quite a few modern sport boats of various types. One large power cruiser was anchored off the west end of Isla Grande in front of a busy beach, but we chose a more secluded anchorage tucked in behind Isla San Joaquin. There, behind the reefs in front of what appears to be a small park and boat launching area, there was almost no surge or swell. Spent the rest of the afternoon napping and watching the weekenders coming and going from the little park. We've got a fifty mile run tomorrow to the San Blas and we'll undoubtedly have to use our flopper-stoppers, so we'll get an early start. The common wisdom says to be anchored before three o'clock to take advantage of good light in maneuvering through the reefs. More?