16 March 2006: Playcita Anchorage,
Panama City, PanamaWhen last we wrote you, s/v Encanto was in the middle of the Gulf of Panama, afloat, drifting in donut configurations. Gaby and Sami were on watch, singing and watching the boat do donuts. As predicted, in the evening, the winds picked up and we were reefing the Main Sail and still going 7.5 knots with a 30 degree heel. All was well. The winds were helping us make it up the Gulf with steady progress.
During the midnight watch, I continued to sight big freighters and ships at a distant, trying to determine if they were coming towards us, away from us or crossing our path. The most glorious of moments came when I felt the wind shift and the intensity of the wind change, ever so slightly. Me, the non-sailor, without a book on CD or music filling my ears, noticed the wind change. I knew that if I adjusted the sails just a little bit, we could sustain our 5-knot speed. We had fallen to 3.5 knots. We were on a close reach with the Genoa and the Main Sail up. I used the autopilot and adjusted the course so the sails would point higher into the wind and we sped up to 5 knots. I ran below to plot our course and to ensure myself that I had not changed our course direction. And to my delight, we were NOT headed to HAWAII.
SIDEBAR: Many of you know the now famous, "Crinkle-crinkle tales of s/v Mister Ed". A tale during the voyage in 1991. The Captain had set a course for Baja California, Mexico and went off watch, leaving the boat in the capable hands of his new bride and the First Mate. Quickly falling asleep, the Captain fell off to dreamland. He wakes to hear the rush of the water against the hull moving faster and faster. Peculiar, but not a big deal, he drifts off back to sleep. Then he hears, "YES, crinkle, crinkle. Odd, what's that?. The hull water rushes by. "YES, krinkle, krinkle". He listens more carefully. By the third time, he can't get back to sleep and he climbs out of his bunk and on deck he observes, the First Mate, on this glorious night of stars singing to a Rolling Stones tune. Well, as the tale goes, the sails had started to luff and so, the First Mate, being good at hand steering, adjusted the course to go faster to remove the sail lufting. She likes going fast. So, when she had the boat going at 6 knots, she'd gave herself a little reward. She kept singing and happily moving along. His bride was heading the boat to Hawaii, rewarding herself with bites of a giant size Butter Finger Candy Bar, the wrapper making that familiar "crinkle, crinkle" sound, every time the boat hit 6 knots. Going fast, but going in the wrong direction. Ah, so long ago and still so much to learn.
Fifteen years later, still married, I think the First Mate is beginning to learn how to adjust the sails. Maybe, next time I'll do it with the jib sheets?
The night was uneventful. Captain came up at dawn to tack us back and forth as we had 30 miles to go to Panama City. Through the binoculars, we could see the BIG boats, freighters, tankers, and container ships begin to line up for the canal passage.
By 1330, we were approaching Panama City. We would have to navigate through the "waiting room" and navigate through all the waiting BIG BOATS, without an engine. For the non sailors, this means that we have less control and we have no means to "STOP on a dime". The Captain had us all up in the cockpit and we reviewed our roles and what the plans were for getting us from the open waters, through the "waiting room and line of freighters" and into the Playita Anchorage near Flamingo Island and the Bridge of the Americas.
On channel 69, we were hailed by Ray, s/v Whisper, who visually through his binoculars, guides us through the next stage, confirm that there was a good spot for us to anchor under sail. He informs us that the anchorage will be easy to navigate and that it is high tide, so we will be anchoring in between 10' and 14'.
As we started to cross the double row of freighters, a pilot boat crosses our path with no intentions of slowing down or deviating their course. We hail them. Nothing heard. Finally, I go up on deck and start to wave. Within 50 feet of us, they deviate to go behind us; collision avoided. Then, a tug boat makes its way across our path. Same thing, no radio contact, no slow down, no acknowledgement and then Gaby notices that they are speeding up. They cross our path, in front of us, and we all sighed a big, "relief". They wave and go their way.
Ray hails us to ask if we needed help aboard and if John was a single-handler. John informs him that he has his family on board to assist. Ray does not have a big outboard, but is willing to come out to help us anchor. S/v Sea-Turn hails that they have a 15 horsepower outboard and that they will pick up Ray. Ray jumps aboard Encanto. Herman and Nancy (s/v Sea-Turn) hover in their dinghy on the starboard side of Encanto. Riding up is John, s/v BLUE, who also has a 15 horsepower dinghy. He positions his dinghy to hover on the port side of Encanto.
We all are in our positions. John steers us into the anchorage. Gaby will head the boat up into the wind and steer. John will drop the anchor. Sami will relay the orders from the bow to the stern. And Judy will release the jib sheets, mainsail sheets and let them fly. As we reach a depth of 13', John gives Gaby the wheel, she turns the boat up into the wind. The boat stops, dead in the water. John drops the anchor. Judy releases the sheets. As John sets the anchor, he yells back to wind up the jib. For a split second, I am confused. I reach for the jib sheets and start to grind. Nothings going right. Ray is asking if he can help. Gaby points to the jib furling lines and I start to grind them. Grinding in the jib means they are not flaying on John as he sets the anchor. As the jib is wrapped up on the roller furling, I hear the Captain say, "We're set." Thumbs up, all around. Ray is complimentary of our family's coordination and efforts. Alas, we were able to come into this anchorage under sail without an engine. It felt really good to work as a crew and family during this anxious exercise. The Captain is very proud and happy with his crew. We thank our cruising friends for standing by and hovering.
We are now in Playita Anchorage, Panama. All we want now, is to get some rest. Tomorrow, we will deal with the demon under the cockpit. Life is good. Life is good. We look forward and are excited to explore this new place where skyscrapers sit on the horizon to the southwest and remote islands lie to the northeast.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day to all ye Irish.