A few weeks ago I had a “bucket list” opportunity to crew aboard my friend Chris’ boat, Skabenga during a transit of the Panama Canal. Chris, and more recently my Milwaukee friend Karen, have spent years/months cruising the Caribbean. Now their sights are set on a cruise of the Galapagos, French Polynesia, and the South Pacific.
Completed over a century ago by the United States, and now operated by the Panamanian government, the Panama Canal remains a vital path for efficient worldwide shipping. By treaty, it remains open to private yachts as well, though there are plenty of regulations.
One of those regulations requires each vessel to have four “experienced and capable” line handlers, in addition to its skipper. The line handlers constantly adjust the lines on the boat while the locks are filling or emptying… so every boat needs a bunch of crew for the transit. Lucky me!
Since I conveniently had some vacation time, I flew down to Panama for the weekend of their scheduled transit. Our Milwaukee friends Russ and Lisa aboard Tumultuous Uproar were scheduled to transit the same day, so a bunch of us Milwaukee sailors flew down to serve as crew on either boat.
Waiting for Bureaucracy
Most of us arrived Friday at the north end (really northwest end) of the canal, on the Caribbean/Atlantic side. Currently the only marina at this end is Shelter Bay Marina, on the grounds of the former US military base. Taxis from Panama City or Colon have to take a short ferry across the canal, though an impressive bridge is under construction.
Scheduled for a Saturday transit, Friday was mostly spent dealing with airline luggage issues, provisioning, and marina pool time. It was fun walking around the marina, where almost all the boats were “serious” offshore cruising sailboats. Our friend Glyn noticed how quiet it was, despite the 15 knots of wind… owners here were mindful of halyard slap, unlike many back home.
Yachts transiting the canal are required to have four 125’ mooring lines that are about 1” thick, as well as a bunch of large fenders. Since they are so bulky to store aboard a yacht, these items are usually rented. Chris and Karen hired an agent to handle the canal paperwork… this agent also arranged the mooring line rental, as well as their delivery to Skabenga prior to departure from Shelter Bay.
Usually, southbound private yachts leave the marina around noon, anchor in a holding area known as “The Flats” or “Area F,” and await a canal advisor. An advisor is like a harbor pilot for private yachts transiting the canal, providing guidance on locking procedures, and handles most of the communication with signal stations and lock masters (but doesn’t drive the boat). With the advisor aboard, yachts lock up the three Gatun Locks to Lake Gatun, tie to a mooring, and spend the night on the lake. The remaining transit, usually with a different advisor, is done on the second day: nearly 30 miles on Lake Gatun, one lock down at Pedro Miguel, a very short crossing of Miraflores Lake, then the last two locks down at Miraflores before heading to the Pacific. At least, that’s how it normally works.
Chatting with other cruisers, we discovered several other boats had experienced delays in their transits, including at least one boat that had to spend an extra night anchored on Lake Gatun midway through the canal. Carnival was that week, and we wondered if it would make delays worse. I had additional vacation plans in a few days, so I was hoping we wouldn’t be delayed much.
Saturday morning Karen received notice from Skabenga’s agent that our transit had been delayed until Sunday. D’oh! Additionally, though Chris had asked the agent to arrange for us to lock through with our friends on Uproar, we had been split for some unknown reason. Our transit time (maybe even date) wouldn’t be confirmed until Saturday evening, resulting in a frustrating wait for bureaucracy.
Good news came that evening, however. We were confirmed to meet our advisor in The Flats at 5am, and would transit through the entire canal in one day! It was a quick rush to cast off from the marina and anchor before nightfall. After we anchored, we learned via the radio that our advisor’s boarding time had changed slightly to 5:30am.
The Flats is definitely not a pretty anchorage, but cool for a “ship nerd” like me. The Port of Colon is very busy 24 hours a day, and wakes from ships and tugs rocked Skabenga all night long.
Locking up the Gatun Locks
Shortly after 5:30am, a pilot boat began dropping off advisors to various boats in the anchorage. Our advisor was Franklin, who proved to be very knowledgeable, professional, and patient throughout the day. Via his handheld radio, he quickly discovered we would be locking up with two other boats as a raft, or “nest,” of three. Our nest of three boats would share the locks astern of the large freighter M/V Maersk Timaru.
Only about 30 minutes prior to entering the lock, we discovered Skabenga would be the center boat in the nest. Generally the center boat is responsible for maneuvering, including communicating to outer boats on how to use their engines. Line handlers on the outer boats would handle lines on only the outer corners of the nest. As a center boat line handler, all I had to do was assist with the rafting and unrafting process. Otherwise, I was free to take photos for this blog! Though maneuvering would certainly be stressful for Chris, I had it easy.
To prep for the upcoming locking process, the line handlers on the outboard boats tied large 3’ bowlines on one end of their outboard mooring lines. Eventually these bowlines would be placed around the bollards at the top of the lock walls. The mooring lines would hold the nest in position in the lock.
While several large tugs aligned Maersk Timaru with the first lock ahead of us, we began rafting about 1500’ from the lock entrance. To port was another catamaran, Higgins, nearly as big as Skabenga, but to starboard was a smaller monohull, making the nest very lopsided.
While I never did any steering, I could tell maneuvering the lopsided nest was difficult, especially when starting from a standstill or when trying to stop. A bit like three people trying to run a four-legged race on ice skates…
Once the Maersk Timaru was secure in the lock, the nest was allowed to proceed into the lock chamber astern of the large ship. This was where maneuvering the nest became critical. We really only had about 20 feet on either side to spare. As Chris commanded the outboard skippers to reverse to slow our approach, the nest began heading way too close to a corner of the lock. By getting the outboard boats to change their power settings (by lots of yelling!), the nest turned back towards the middle… only to oscillate too far the other way. I could imagine the fiberglass of one of the outboard boats scraping against the nasty rough concrete of the lock walls. With nearly 70,000 lbs. of boats tied together, it would NOT be a simple scratch. I understood then why insurance companies charged extra for a canal transit.
As a result of the maneuvering challenges, there was plenty of heated communications between skippers! Actually, all communications on the nest had some obstacles… two English-speaking South African skippers, a French-speaking skipper, and three advisors who spoke decent English on the boat but Spanish on the radio made for quite a combination.
Adding to the complexities of maneuvering the nest was the need to tie to the sides of the lock.
As we approached the outer doors, we noticed line throwers ashore holding lightweight messengers, or throw lines, with monkey fists (large knots to aid in throwing) tied on the end. Starting with the port side first, the monkey fists were thrown to the foredecks of the outer boats of the nest, avoiding the solar panels mounted on the sterns. These throw lines would later be used to quickly haul the heavier mooring lines into position once the nest was in the lock. Line handlers on the outer boats tied the throw lines via bowlines to the large 3’ bowlines previously tied in the mooring lines. The line throwers ashore walked (and sometimes ran!) to keep up with us, staying abreast of the nest while holding the shore end of the throw lines.
When the nest was nearly in position in the lock, the mooring lines were lifted ashore using the throw lines. The bowlines in the mooring lines were placed over large bollards at the top of the lock. Line handlers on the boats adjusted tension to keep the nest centered.
As the giant lock doors closed, we were surrounded by slimy, wet concrete looming 28 feet above us. Before us lay the even taller transom of the freighter. Skabenga won’t see Atlantic waters for many years from that moment.
The water level in the lock began rising around an inch every 2 seconds. Waters were somewhat turbulent in the locks during flooding. As the water level rose, line handlers continued taking out the slack to keep the nest in position.
At the top of the lock, the line handlers made fast their mooring lines in preparation for the ship’s wake ahead of us. When the ship began forward thrust, our raft had 3-5 knots of propwash flowing past us.
Once the Maersk Timaru was in position in the next lock ahead, the line throwers lowered the dock lines back to the boats via the throw lines. The nest was ordered to begin motoring forward again. Line throwers ashore had to walk alongside the nest, occasionally running, even up all the stairs to the next lock. We actually went too fast at one point, prompting some shouting from the line throwers ashore, attempts to slow the nest, and some close encounters with sides of the lock again. Eventually, a line got dropped… posing a propeller hazard, and further complicating maneuvering.
The Gatun Locks are a series of three back-to-back locks, so we did this for all three locks. Beyond the top lock lies Gatun Lake, 85 feet above sea level.
Gatun Lake
Once safely clear of the last Gatun Lock, the nest separated for the nearly 30 mile motor to the other side of Gatun Lake. Almost immediately, we passed our other Milwaukee friends on Uproar, still at anchor awaiting her next advisor.
Gatun Lake was kinda strange… a freshwater lake surrounded by hilly jungle, with nearly no civilization ashore. It seemed like wilderness, except there were giant ships everywhere, some underway, some anchored.
Occasionally a ship would suddenly appear around a bend in the lake.
With north or northeast winds at 10-20 knots, the south and southeast courses would have had a few good spinnaker runs, but sailing is frowned upon in the lake. All vessels are required to be able to make at least 5 knots under power, and lock scheduling is based on this ability.
As we motored through the jungle lake, passing crocodiles and many birds in the powerful tropical sun, I tried imagining the surveyors over a century ago hiking through the jungle attempting to figure out whether this canal was even feasible. I couldn’t imagine the workers in the tropical sun digging the giant trenches, blasting away the hills, or building the locks and dams that make this engineering marvel functional.
Approaching the Culebra Cut, the deep trench cut through the continental divide, we were ahead of schedule. Rather than make lazy circles for two hours, all three boats tied to a large mooring. Uproar caught up to us, too, and we chatted for a while. It was very hot in the midday sun, but unfortunately, swimming is not allowed in the lake (there’s lots of crocs, for one thing!).
Locking Down the Pedro Miguel and Miraflores Locks
Though Uproar had caught us in the lake, we still locked through as scheduled, and Uproar followed in the locks adjacent to ours. Going down, our nest would enter the lock first, with a giant ship behind us instead.
The M/V Splendid Ace, a giant RORO (Roll On, Roll Off car carrier) followed us into the lock after having some difficulty aligning in the wind. As their bow towered over us, we hoped they would stop in time! There actually was considerable propwash surrounding us as the giant ship reversed to stop, putting some large loads on our rudders.
As the waters dropped, the line handlers carefully eased the lines to keep the raft centered.
Pedro Miguel is only one lock, followed by a mile long motoring segment through Miraflores Lake to the final two Miraflores Locks.
Skabenga in the Pacific!
As the final doors of the last lock opened, Skabenga was in Pacific waters for a new adventure!
The nest separated for the last time, and we said our goodbyes to our neighbors.
After passing the Bridge of the Americas, a pilot boat picked up advisor Franklin. Shortly after that, we grabbed a mooring at the Balboa Yacht Club. We almost immediately noticed the much colder waters of the Pacifc! The tides were bigger, too, apparent on the pilings of the Yacht Club dock.
Uproar got a mooring in the basin a little after us. We all had made it! With a before sunrise start, and an after sunset finish, a 13 hour day, everyone was ready for a well deserved beer… especially our skipper, Chris. He had done an excellent job!