Below is an entry from 1/20/08 We were supposed to be anchoring at this time but yesterday after the storm the winds died down to a zephyr and we began only making 3-4 knots an hour of headway if even that., not enough to keep us on schedule. Normally a delay like this wouldn’t perturb us, but we had set our sites on watching the championship football games at the yacht club in Panama. At 4pm the 19th we had 113 miles to go. Our record distance traveled in 24 hours was 151 miles and so far on this leg of our journey we have been averaging about 130 miles a day, less the first when we only made 100. At worst we thought we’d make it in by 7pm, before dark and in time for the second game. However at 9am today we still had 60 miles to go and no wind to really “go” in. Oh well, it wasn’t the end of the world. What could have been a disaster however, was the spontaneous relocation of our tiller. It was the late afternoon and we were sitting in the cockpit of Longshot talking about who knows what and staring into the big blue pool off the stern of the boat. The wind was really light at this time; so light that the mainsail would luff and flap as we rolled over the swells. Flop! Ping! Bounce! Bang! “Phew!” Is how I remember what just had happened before my eyes. The tiller decided it didn’t like being on the rudder post anymore (can‘t blame it after the storm we had just gone through) and decided to flop around like a fish out of water and over the stern towards the sea. Luckily Keith has a much quicker reaction time, quickly realized that without a tiller we would be in trouble and jumped towards the stern catching hold of the handle it could escape from the life of pushing and pulling agony we have been putting it though. While reattaching the tiller we deduced how the ’act of freedom’ had happened. When the mainsail flapped the mainsheet caught itself under the butt end where the tiller connects to the rudder post. When the sail went forward & pulled the mainsheet taught it forced the tiller up past the cotter pin that had been holding it to the rudder post and the tiller almost ended up in the ocean. We have a back up tiller except the tiller that pulled off the post included a coupling that without, would make it all but impossible to attach the backup tiller in a reasonable amount of time. We would’ve been screwed for at least a couple of hours before we could create a new coupling. It was also ironic how we almost always have the opportunity to catch a fish after finishing a meal. Today, the 20th, that’s is just what happened. However, it wouldn’t have happened if the both of us didn’t untangle one of the largest tangles of fishing line I have ever seen. It got so tangled because of all the stretch from the heavy seas and wind and the night before was so light that it gave the line a chance to tangle. It was around our port keel as well as our rudder and all twisted from reel to lure. Together, we spent 2+ hours each untangling and untwisting 200 yards of braided line. 2+ hours and three swivels later the lure was back in the water waiting for some unknowing fish. (wish I had a picture, we didn’t think of it till it was too late.) The day before the heavy heavy (not a typo) seas we had hooked a Dorado (mahi mahi) but lost it when turning up to reel it in. after brining in the lure we also found that the hook had bent out to 90 degree angles. So, we are unsure if the turning up or the bending of the hooks caused the loss of the fish. Keith was reeling that one & said I could reel the next one, as we had been doing on our first leg in the Atlantic. After finishing a tasty lunch of spicy chicken Ramen noodles I went below to do who knows what(I don’t remember) when Keith, true to his word, yells, “There’s something on the line, your up!” We have the reel bolted on to the rear stanchion of the boat which makes it somewhat awkward to reel but allows us not to worry about losing a whole rig, pole reel etc. We were still moving at about 4 miles an hour and the line was spooling out slowly for about 2 minutes as the fish fought to get off the hook when suddenly the line became easily to spool in. At first I thought I had lost the fish but after putting my fingers on the line I could tell that there still was something on there so I kept reeling in, keeping the line taut. About 100 yards from the boat Keith spotted a fin sticking up out of the water & thought it was a little shark It sure did look like a shark fin but ended up being a King Mackerel, weighing in at around 8 pounds or so. I hoisted it aboard by the hook and Keith snapped a picture. Still smiling I grabbed the fillet knife and went to work hacking off the meat, it wasn‘t sushi grade filleting but we were able to get 2 nice slabs of meat for dinner. We need to catch more fish for practice!

And my oh my what a great dinner it was! it’s a succulent full bodied fish that can taste either like chicken (the white meat) or steak (the dark meat). I loved it and it may have been that we hadn’t had meat for 10 days(which was a surf and turf dinner complimentary of a few awesome guys who will be doing some work (read millions) for Princess cruise lines) and have been mostly eating Ramen noodles but I would rate it second out of the three kinds of fish we have caught so far. It was Keith’s least favorite of the three but we both agree that it was delicious none the less.

Hello to all- I hope this update finds you well. We made it through the Panama Canal without much issue, which was a great relief to both of us. We started out from Colon anchorage (called the Flats) at about 4 pm the 25th. It was not just John and I on the boat; we had 3 extra line handlers plus an “advisor.” So in total there were 6 people on Longshot. It was a little cramped but no too bad, half of the guys would stay up on deck while the other three were at the stern in the cockpit. Upon leaving the anchorage we headed for the first 3 locks, which are located about 5 miles from the anchorage. Upon arriving at the entrance to the locks we rafted together with 2 other sailboats--a 54 ft catamaran and a 37 ft mono-hull ketch. Once all the boats were tied together , which was a slightly stressful event, we entered the first lock, with a 700 ft cargo ship in front of us. Each lock is 1000 ft long and 106 feet wide so it was a little tight. Once in the lock there are huge swinging doors that close which make the area (mostly) watertight. On the way in the canal workers on the top of the lock walls threw retrieving lines down to us, which we caught and tied our heavy lines to then they would pull it up and loop the line around a cleat. We, on the boat, were in charge of taking in line as the water in the lock rose onto the boat. Once the boat was secure the alarm sounded and the water began to fill creating some turbulence, (which looked like bubbling chocolate milk) but that is why we had lines for-- to prevent movement. After about 10 minutes the lock was filled and we were 30 feet above sea level. The alarm sounded again and the front gate opened and then we motored to the next lock. We did the same procedure 2 more times to rise a total of 90 feet above sea level. After the third lock opened into a large, manmade fresh water lake. We motored for about 5 more miles and then we tied onto a large mooring. At this point the advisor left, but the rest of the line handlers stayed. We were warned not to swim in the lake as it is populated with many alligators. Although I am not sure they would have wasted their time with two scraggly sailors, nevertheless we didn’t chance it. We made a dinner and drank some wine with our crew and the crew of the other mono-hull that was rafted to the giant mooring ball with us. The night was not very restful for John and I because we slept in the cockpit so the 3 other crew could have separate berths below (we can actually sleep 5 but we didn’t want to crowd our crew since they were helping us). Normally sleeping outside isn’t a problem, but on this night there was heavy rain-- big surprise. We were pretty wet in the morning when a different advisor arrived around 7:00 am. After checking the fluids in the engine we motored through the lake, which is about 30 miles. It was a calm day; uneventful except for the occasional huge tanker or cargo ship. We snapped a few shots of the beautiful scenery but the pictures don’t do the area justice. Upon arrival on the other side of the lake we again rafted up with the same boats. The procedure was the same except for this time the locks lowered us 30 feet each time. The only close call on the whole trip happened after being lowered down the first lock and motoring to the next lock. The wind shifted blowing our raft towards the wall of the lock and the 37 ft mono-hull cam within 6 inches of the wall before we threw our engine in reverse along with the left hull of the catamaran to counteract the cross wind. It was a close call but luckily all 3 boats made it through the entire canal with no damage, which is no small feat. The 3rd lock opened and we were given our first views of the Pacific Ocean. It is hard to describe the overwhelming sense of vastness that you feel. Here we are on a 31 ft cork and we are looking out at an ocean that covers almost 1/5 of the entire planet. One truly realizes how small you are… We dropped off the advisor and our line handlers and made our way to the anchorage about 5 miles away from the canal. In case any of you are ever in need of information on transiting the canal and cost here is our total fee breakdown: $500 transit fee, $50 measurement fee, $50 security fee, two rente4d lines at $15 each, 6 rented tires (for fenders) at $3 each, $20 for 2 visas, $20 for a 30 day cruising permit, $20 departure fee, and $35 agent fee. That brings the grand total to $743, about $250 less than we were planning on, which will help on the outfitting for the Galapagos.

In my opinion, Panama has been the first destination of the voyage where we have been able to actually experience and admire the culture. In Colon we were able to see what forty years of neglect and backstabbing can do to a city. To be told by a local taxi driver that he won’t even drive down certain streets brought on a whole new meaning of danger to me. My friends, if you thought Camden was bad, Colon makes it look like Pleasantville. However, not all of Panama is like Colon. Panama City on the Pacific side is full of skyscrapers and clean streets. (although, like every city there are a few dilapidated sections)

After anchoring down Keith and I, exhausted from the last 9 hours of fun in the sun took a nap to regain some energy for a Jazz festival in “Old City” that we had heard about from the guys on the cat “Discovery” that we had been transiting the canal with. I donned a white shirt while Keith pulled out his ever famous bright yellow “Brazil” shirt and we made our way to the dingy dock to catch a taxi. However, as we were motoring in the dark, we almost hit this tire floating near the dock. We looked at it more closely and realized that it wasn’t an abandoned tire but a sad, but totally resourceful excuse for a mooring buoy. We make it in and grab a taxi to the festival. The driver drops us off at a side street and tells us that we have to walk down one street to the entrance because traffic was so bad. We start walking and come to a roadblock with a metal detector and about 8 police. We get through with no problems and enter a beautiful plaza complete with Gazebo, hordes of people, and a big stage with a church as its backdrop. To the left of the stage they had the government building lit up and on the other two sides there were high end apartments. We were weaving our way towards the front of the stage when a group of people yelled out to us, “Brazil!!! Yeah!!!” and started talking to Keith in Spanish, shaking hands and giving hugs. We chatted with them for a bit, learning where they were from and what they were doing in Panama. 10 minutes later we were off winding deeper into the crowd to catch the last act, Catherine Russell. She sure had a great voice and nothing but good vibes emitted from the stage. After the final song we took a quick stroll around the area to see if we could find anyone from the Catamaran and ended up with the Brazilians and a couple of their friends, a mix of European and South American cultures, including Austrian, Italian, Venezuelan, Brazilian, and Columbian. The Columbian, Juan Pablo, was very peculiar however, because he had a distinct Midwest American accent, and looked like an Irishman with his pale skin and red hair. Juan bought us a couple Heinekens and introduced us to his beautiful Italian girlfriend whose family has been in Panama for at least two generations. With the concert winding down we were going to head back to the boat when Juan offered to take us out to a club and to chill at his place until then. We had a problem though, Keith and I were in cargo shorts and the club requires long pants. Juan said no worries, paid for all of us to take a taxi back to his apartment and actually drove us 15 minutes back to Longshot so that we could pick up 2 pairs of jeans while his girlfriend played guitar hero. His apartment was so amazing, as he was about 20 floors up and had a view of the entire bay and most of the city from a giant picture window and porch. There was also a full entertainment system complete with a 50” flat screen TV and Guitar Hero. I gave GH a shot but was booed off the stage every time even though I was supposedly playing the easiest song. Keith was better however, and actually completed a song before being booed of on the next hardest song. After an hour or so of chatting and GH we all head out to club GURU about a three minutes walk around the corner. We paid the cover and made our way through two padded black leather doors that laid out the scene before us, a huge oval bar in the center with a huge dance floor behind it and a step up, VIP lounges surrounding the place on the second floor and a catwalk complete with girl in cat costume dancing to the beat. I haven’t been to many clubs but it, by far, had the best music, sound, and atmosphere than anything I have experienced before. The Brazilians were there and had moves and steps I could only dream about doing. We all danced the night away and before long it was four thirty in the morning and we all were starving so we left the club, which was still bouncing, and headed for a joint called Nikos where we had the best sandwich and fries in a long time, did some more talking and invited Juan and his girlfriend for a day sail on Longshot. After curing our starvation he gave us a lift back to the dock in his diesel pathfinder, which I would like have one someday just because its diesel. We motored our little dingy back to Longshot to get some shuteye at 5 am before having to head back to Colon by bus to return some lines and help another boat get through the Canal.