Sail-World's Blackwattle transits the Panama Canal

by Nancy Knudsen on 10 Apr 2007 We've heard all the gory stories about the Canal – 'There are many mishaps - they don't really like yachts', 'If you're put against the wall, your mast can collide with the canal walls', 'You'll have to berth with large ships - Watch out for the huge thrust from the ship's engines in front!'

In Shelter Bay Marina, we've made preparations for our transit through one of the Modern Wonders of the World, the Panama Canal. We've splashed fresh water luxuriously in our last cleaning spree before the long salty days across the Pacific.

For good measure, we've crossed the canal in another boat as line handlers. This experience teaches us how valuable GOOD line handlers can be, and maybe we're lucky, but there were no other problems encountered.

The hour comes, we're garlanded with black tyres (they've taken a deposit in case OUR fibreglass scratches THEIR concrete), and full of trepidation, away we go across the bay to our meeting place. On board we have a troop of good sailors/seamen, some of whom we have known as far back as the Canary Islands. You are not permitted to transit without four line handlers and the skipper.

Late afternoon we are boarded by our 'adviser' from the Canal Authority, a serious quiet man, and make for the first lock, spirits and adrenaline running high. We have by now rafted with another boat, and follow a large ship. As the day disappears into night, the lights of the lock, so high above us, loom closer and closer, brighter and brighter, blinding our vision as we enter. Four lines are thrown from workmen high above on the lock edges, and we two boats are now tethered like Siamese twin bulls to the shore. The great steel gates close ominously behind us, and we are surrounded by a black concrete and steel prison.

But now is the scariest part – the water rushes in at an alarming rate, making the water boil beneath us. The two boats twist and lurch, trying to escape – they're hating this strange treatment! The strong-muscled line handlers struggle to keep the lines taut and the boats straight. The 'adviser' shouts instructions to the helmsmen – 'Power forward a little!' 'Reverse a little!' helping to keep the boats forward facing. In just a few minutes (which seems like an hour as we all concentrate tensely) we have risen around 8 metres, and are now at the top of the lock.

The Canal workmen, now level with us, take our lines and start the long walk to the next lock, while we power forward, following the big ship in front like her small puppies. (She's being TOWED! What's with the story about engine thrust?) The process is repeated twice more, but we are starting to relax a little, the first surprise over, and of course, with practice, even ONE practice, everything gets easier.

Finally, we are through the three locks, and emerge into a wide expanse of black water ahead. We know we are in the Gatun Lake now, one of the largest artificial lakes in the world, created just for the construction of this canal. However, we can see nothing ahead and it's very quiet, our voices sounding loud in the stillness. We are guided for about an hour by the adviser to an immense red buoy that we find with torches in the darkness. Here, a launch appears miraculously out of the blackness to carry our adviser off, and we are abandoned for the night. Phew!

We know that the worst is over, and the pleasure is to come. We eat and drink, and collapse into our bunks, tired from the physical work, but maybe more from the tension of the unfamiliar challenge.

I wake slowly to strange plaintive yowling, for an instant don't know where I am – it's the sounds of the howler monkeys in the rainforest all around. In all the cruisers' horror tales of the Panama Canal and how difficult it was for yachts, no-one mentioned how magnificently beautiful this journey could be.

Daylight, and we're in glorious surroundings, birds chattering in the trees and swooping by in long flights. We all splash in for a swim in the fresh lake water. Blackwattle must be surprised! She's never been in fresh water, and there's fresh drinking water in the salt water tap! We don't stay swimming for long – there are crocodiles hidden in the dense forest shore not far away.

After the arrival of our new adviser, we glide all morning through the lovely waters of the lake.. There's lots to see on the way – great goliaths of ships pass (we give way) with their tug boats before and aft. There's continuous magic scenery, thick tropical jungle, as we wind through narrow waterways.

We pass the Smithsonian research station, there to study the wildlife – they also have a station in Panama City itself.

We even pass a US submarine, surrounded by guarding powerboats, their inhabitants looking ferocious in flak jackets and guns. They drive up to us aggressively, staring at us silently as we take photos of the sub. The showy performance actually looks rather silly. We giggle and make attack plans. If you wanted to attack a US submarine in this canal, all you would have to do is hide in the thick undergrowth a few yards away with a good missile.

Now we must raft up again with our fellow yacht. It's time to descend to the Pacific. We take the first downward lock alone, just the two yachts, and as the water drains there's no slewing of the water – it's so easy. We're out of the lock quickly and across small Miraflores Lake to arrive at the final double chamber lock. Coincidentally, we are to share the final lock with DockWise – the ship which ferries yachts round the world.

Thunder is rolling and just as we are about to enter these two final locks, there's a cloud burst. Skipper Ted can't see a thing, and the rocky shores are too close for comfort – the crew stands around dripping with water, being his eyes through the rain. But as the rain clears and we enter the first chamber, for the first time in four years, Blackwattle can see, beyond the two locks, her first sight of the Pacific! I am sure her strong diesel heart has just skipped a throb!

Soon it's all over, and effortlessly we glide into the tidal (5 metre) waters of the Pacific.

It's time to open the champagne. After all our experiences and adventures, we have finally finally finally reached our home ocean. The Panama Canal Advisers were excellent, and we are also overwhelmingly grateful to our four line handlers, who have done such a stunning job: Englishman Simon from Steamy Windows and Pirhana, now off to Peru for new adventures, Belgian Stephen from Wakalele and Australians Mike and Jos from Mary Constance. Both Wakalele and Mary Constance will soon transit the Canal themselves.

So, here we are in Panama City – time to provision, then off to Galapagos!