Panama
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| We were met and escorted from Golfito by the same dolphin honor guard that had accompanied us upon our return four days earlier. It was Wednesday morning, October 3, and we were heading out on a falling tide for a three day trip to the Las Perlas Islands, our first stop in Panama. |
After a day of fighting choppy seas, that afternoon we rounded Punta
Burica, the southern point at the mouth of Golfe Dulce, entering
Panamanian waters. Our navigation choices at that point were two: head
out to sea, going south of the numerous islands dotting the coastline but
adding 50 miles or so to our trip, or staying closer to the coast, threading
our way around, among and between the islands in Golfo Chiriqui, while
also benefiting from the protection they afforded from the southerly swell.
We chose the latter. We had 5 course changes during the night, which
kept Steve awake, but by morning we were past the last of the islands,
Isla Coiba, and into a long stretch of uninterrupted coastal sailing.
Burica, the southern point at the mouth of Golfe Dulce, entering
Panamanian waters. Our navigation choices at that point were two: head
out to sea, going south of the numerous islands dotting the coastline but
adding 50 miles or so to our trip, or staying closer to the coast, threading
our way around, among and between the islands in Golfo Chiriqui, while
also benefiting from the protection they afforded from the southerly swell.
We chose the latter. We had 5 course changes during the night, which
kept Steve awake, but by morning we were past the last of the islands,
Isla Coiba, and into a long stretch of uninterrupted coastal sailing.
Rounding Punta Burica to enter Panamanian waters
The second day of sailing saw us clipping along at 7.5 knots on a
beam reach, spinnaker flying, in two foot seas. This allowed Steve
to catch up on his sleep, which was good because our second night
was even more of a challenge than our first. We were approaching
Punta Malo, which marks the entrance to the Gulf of Panama. While
our Spanish isn’t great, we think that “Punta Malo” translates
basically as “Cape Bad,” “Cape Sick,” or maybe even “Cape Evil” ...
whatever, it certainly doesn’t translate as “The Cape of Warm
Contented Purring Kitten In Your Lap” or something similarly
soothing. All night long we battled a three knot adverse current,
choppy waves and fluky winds. Plus, this is where traffic of large
ships headed to and from the canal really gets heavy. At one point
Jay was trying to puzzle out why he was seeing lights from three
ships but only two targets on the radar. It wasn’t until the very-well-
lighted ship disappeared from sight, like a spacecraft rounding the
dark side of the moon, did he realize that what he thought were two
separate ships were actually the bow and stern lights of a
supertanker. Adding to the fun, as soon as Steve came on his 3:00
am watch, it started raining torrentially, letting up just as Mike awoke
for his 6:00 am watch.
We finally rounded Cape Bad/Sick/Evil just before daybreak and
adjusted course for the Las Perlas Archipelago. We anchored at
Ensenada Playa Grande, Isla San Jose, at 1530.
beam reach, spinnaker flying, in two foot seas. This allowed Steve
to catch up on his sleep, which was good because our second night
was even more of a challenge than our first. We were approaching
Punta Malo, which marks the entrance to the Gulf of Panama. While
our Spanish isn’t great, we think that “Punta Malo” translates
basically as “Cape Bad,” “Cape Sick,” or maybe even “Cape Evil” ...
whatever, it certainly doesn’t translate as “The Cape of Warm
Contented Purring Kitten In Your Lap” or something similarly
soothing. All night long we battled a three knot adverse current,
choppy waves and fluky winds. Plus, this is where traffic of large
ships headed to and from the canal really gets heavy. At one point
Jay was trying to puzzle out why he was seeing lights from three
ships but only two targets on the radar. It wasn’t until the very-well-
lighted ship disappeared from sight, like a spacecraft rounding the
dark side of the moon, did he realize that what he thought were two
separate ships were actually the bow and stern lights of a
supertanker. Adding to the fun, as soon as Steve came on his 3:00
am watch, it started raining torrentially, letting up just as Mike awoke
for his 6:00 am watch.
We finally rounded Cape Bad/Sick/Evil just before daybreak and
adjusted course for the Las Perlas Archipelago. We anchored at
Ensenada Playa Grande, Isla San Jose, at 1530.
Approaching the Las Perlas Islands
We named this Isla del Sphinxo
| At our first anchorage, the boys invented a new sport: wake boarding behind the dinghy using Judd's kinda broken skim board. We'll call this "skwake boarding." Judd broke the ice, on his knees, then Mike proved that standing is indeed possible. Must be because he took AP Physics. |
Las Perlas, lying about 35 miles southwest of Panama City, serve as
a playground for rich Panamanians getting away for the weekend.
The islands are sprinkled over an area about 30 miles north-to-south
and 10 miles east-to-west; many are uninhabited, some (like Isla St.
Jose, the second largest) are privately owned, and some are dotted
with vacation houses. This is the first place we’ve been where the
water is clear enough to snorkel. We stayed for two nights at Isla St.
Jose at the southwest corner of the archipelago, then moved to Isla
Contadora at the northern end, where we stayed for three nights.
a playground for rich Panamanians getting away for the weekend.
The islands are sprinkled over an area about 30 miles north-to-south
and 10 miles east-to-west; many are uninhabited, some (like Isla St.
Jose, the second largest) are privately owned, and some are dotted
with vacation houses. This is the first place we’ve been where the
water is clear enough to snorkel. We stayed for two nights at Isla St.
Jose at the southwest corner of the archipelago, then moved to Isla
Contadora at the northern end, where we stayed for three nights.
| Wing-on-wing for a fast run north to Isla Contadora |
| Scenes from Isla Contadora, playground for Panama's rich and famous |
| We don't know how long it's been since this guy ran his ferry hard aground, but it's definitely been there a while! |
Anchored off of Playa Ejecutivo
A typical island estate
Obsessed with
fish, are we?
fish, are we?
| This complex overlooked Playa Ejecutivo, where we'd dinghy in. With multiple building, casitas, a palapa-covered bar with uniformed bartender and waitress, and a disappearing-edge pool, the boys figured it for a resort hotel and tried sneaking in to use the pool. Imagine their surprise when they were summarily escorted from a private residence! |
On Wednesday, October 10 we left Isla Contadora for a 5 hour
sail to Balboa, the Pacific terminus of the Panama Canal. All the
marinas being full, we anchored in a snug bay, east of the causeway,
protected by Flamenco Island. From here we can dinghy into the
Flamenco Marina and tie up to their dinghy dock for the bargain price
of only $5.00 per day.
We hired an agent, Tina McBride, to handle our clearances into
Panama and the paperwork for the canal. It’s a good thing we did so;
clearing into Panama proved to be more complicated than any other
country thus far. First we got our passports stamped and the boat
cleared by the Port Captain. Then Customs had to clear the boat. Then
we needed visas stamped into our passports by Immigration, and a
cruising permit obtained from the Panama Maritime Authority. An
entirely separate set of paperwork had to be filed with the Canal
Authority and a tentative time slot booked.
Last but not least, on Thursday, we had our visit from the Canal
Authority Admeasurer. We first had to move Dakota Rose out of our
protected anchorage into the stream, where we anchored for 2 hours in
three to four foot, choppy seas and winds that were gusting to over 30
knots (the wind was so strong that, at some point, our American flag got
blown away, flagstaff and all!). He had one other boat to measure
before us: Serengeti, a 100+ footer that had been reputedly owned by
Johnny Carson and which had no trouble getting a slip at Flamenco
Marina, thank you very much! When he showed up on his launch (the
admeasurer, not Johnny Carson), we moved back closer to where we’d
been anchored, where it was marginally more protected, and came
alongside his launch so he could jump aboard Dakota Rose wearing
(as Jay pointed out) black-soled shoes. At least he was a friendly chap,
stretching his visit out to well over an hour, telling stories and jokes as
he tape-measured our length and beam, then sitting in the wind filling
out endless forms, in triplicate (with real carbon paper between them!),
most of which seemed to require the same information. It complicated
matters when, in the wind, our papers kept getting mixed up with
Serengeti’s. Finally, we upped anchor again, pulled back alongside
his launch to bid him farewell, and he left us with: our very-smudgy
copies of the endless forms; several sheets of carbon paper for
disposal; our suitable-for-framing SIN Certificate (“SIN”=”ship
identification number” – we think that, even in Panama, they don’t issue
licenses to misbehave); blank copies of all the forms we’ll need for our
next canal transit; and some black scuff marks on the decks from his
shoes.
sail to Balboa, the Pacific terminus of the Panama Canal. All the
marinas being full, we anchored in a snug bay, east of the causeway,
protected by Flamenco Island. From here we can dinghy into the
Flamenco Marina and tie up to their dinghy dock for the bargain price
of only $5.00 per day.
We hired an agent, Tina McBride, to handle our clearances into
Panama and the paperwork for the canal. It’s a good thing we did so;
clearing into Panama proved to be more complicated than any other
country thus far. First we got our passports stamped and the boat
cleared by the Port Captain. Then Customs had to clear the boat. Then
we needed visas stamped into our passports by Immigration, and a
cruising permit obtained from the Panama Maritime Authority. An
entirely separate set of paperwork had to be filed with the Canal
Authority and a tentative time slot booked.
Last but not least, on Thursday, we had our visit from the Canal
Authority Admeasurer. We first had to move Dakota Rose out of our
protected anchorage into the stream, where we anchored for 2 hours in
three to four foot, choppy seas and winds that were gusting to over 30
knots (the wind was so strong that, at some point, our American flag got
blown away, flagstaff and all!). He had one other boat to measure
before us: Serengeti, a 100+ footer that had been reputedly owned by
Johnny Carson and which had no trouble getting a slip at Flamenco
Marina, thank you very much! When he showed up on his launch (the
admeasurer, not Johnny Carson), we moved back closer to where we’d
been anchored, where it was marginally more protected, and came
alongside his launch so he could jump aboard Dakota Rose wearing
(as Jay pointed out) black-soled shoes. At least he was a friendly chap,
stretching his visit out to well over an hour, telling stories and jokes as
he tape-measured our length and beam, then sitting in the wind filling
out endless forms, in triplicate (with real carbon paper between them!),
most of which seemed to require the same information. It complicated
matters when, in the wind, our papers kept getting mixed up with
Serengeti’s. Finally, we upped anchor again, pulled back alongside
his launch to bid him farewell, and he left us with: our very-smudgy
copies of the endless forms; several sheets of carbon paper for
disposal; our suitable-for-framing SIN Certificate (“SIN”=”ship
identification number” – we think that, even in Panama, they don’t issue
licenses to misbehave); blank copies of all the forms we’ll need for our
next canal transit; and some black scuff marks on the decks from his
shoes.
Approaching Panama City
On Saturday a spot opened up in the Flamenco Marina. We
spent a few hours deep-cleaning the boat, then met up with
our old friend Russ and his friend Mark, who'd flown down to
ride through the canal with us
spent a few hours deep-cleaning the boat, then met up with
our old friend Russ and his friend Mark, who'd flown down to
ride through the canal with us
| Sunday we hired a tour guide, Adriane, and spent the afternoon seeing the sights of Panama City, including a stop at the Miraflores Locks of the Panama Canal to go through the museum and watch a ship locking through, to get an idea of what we'd be in for in a few days |
The old part of the city, reminiscent of New Orleans,
dates from the failed French attempts to build a
canal between 1879 and 1895
dates from the failed French attempts to build a
canal between 1879 and 1895
| Ironically, when the Americans built this monument to the French efforts, they did complete the job |
| The Presidential Mansion, where security consisted of the gate, a bored looking guard, and a few strutting birds |
| Why we're here - the canal - click on the picture, below left, to see pix of our transit |
