Having spent nearly six weeks in St Martin replacing running and standing rigging ( you know we had a shroud toggle break when we were in the BVI) we set sail for the canal. We made it to Panama from St Martin in 11 days. Very rough passage. We started off great out of Marigot bay with our intended buddy boat 'Sal Away' ( a 49ft Jeanneau with 4 kiwis on board - they're heading to Fiji on the same schedule as us) before they had to turn around with autopilot problems. Turned out one of the lads had put the spare tool batteries on top of the gyro system which messed with the compass. That discovered, they turned to follow us a couple of hours later. We were sailing with full main alone and managing about 6 knots. Later that afternoon we caught sight of them slowly creeping up on us. With a poled out foresail their 50ft boat was managing to do a wee bit more than us and before long we were side by side. We then got a call from Ian on 'Sal Away' asking for advice regarding their transmission. It was stuck in reverse and they needed to start their engine in order to recharge batteries to keep the autopilot going. After some discussion they decided to run the engine in reverse while under sail - and the buggers still managed 6 knots!!. With evening coming we started our night watches. Harry (our 14 year old) and I kicked it off and two hours later we passed on to my wife Bobbie and our 16yo Alex. The boat was going great. Down in the forward cabin I could hear the water racing pass the hull. It was only after returning to the helm did I notice that Alex had taken us 100 degrees off course for two hours. Needless to say I was a wee bit annoyed. He said "but we go so much faster on a beam reach". He was given a short, intensive dose of navigation instruction and we returned to our course. By this time we had lost contact with 'Sal Away' and we were on our own. The following couple of days were pretty uneventful except for a huge (100 or more strong) pod of dolphins that came to play with us, and we cruised along at about 6 knots quite happy with ourselves. Of course - the night brings out the nasty stuff and as the sun started to set we noticed some ominous clouds so decided to throw a reef in the main. Sure enough, thunder and lightning indicated we were going to get a bit of rain and before long the wind started to pick up. The lightning soon caught us and was cracking around us so we decided to alter course to the south, where we could still see clear skies. The front not extending too far that way. The result was that we were now much closer to the Venezuelan/Columbian coast than we had originally planned.
The route planning books indicate that it's typically rough and also to be avoided. We can confirm that!!!!
Sea swells up to 50 ft and the commercial vessels providing weather reports of beaufort scale force 8 - which we experienced - made for a white knuckle ride. At one point with no sails up we got up to 14.2 knots. That's when we could take a glance at the knotmeter! Wind on the mast alone and the sea swells just kept forcing us along. Harry was truly in a panic at one point ( I thought we were going to lose him to a panic attack) and then he just appeared to snap out of it, took his turn at the helm and seemed to thrive on actually being in control. One night, with conditions awful, Harry and I let Alex and Bobbie rest the entire night. Harnessed into the cockpit, Harry and I would alternate napping and steering. This we kept up from 9pm until 6am. The young fella was a mule.
We constantly checked in with container and tanker vessels to ensure they knew we were around. The AIS system worked fantastic!!!!! Best piece of kit we purchased. Every one of them - except one Chinese vessel - returned our call and subsequently provided weather forecast and/or altered course to give us clearance. As we found ourselves coping with conditions, we were happy to hear a reply of "unchanged weather for the next 12 hours". As long as it wasn't worsening we could cope. We couldn't help but think of some of these guys sipping coffee in the comfort of their warm, dry container ship bridge. Quite envious we were!
We ended up heading into Santa Marta on the northern Columbian coast for a rest. Again, we got in contact with a local freighter who's watchman suggested the nearby port as an option and when we made our way around the point into the port at 1am on the 14th of July the water went dead calm, the lights of the town illuminated the beach area and we calmly dropped anchor into sand in 10 feet of water. Not even the hint of a swell - dead calm like a pond and we all dropped into an exhausted sleep. Really neat town, Santa Marta, from the looks of it and very friendly coast guard (who stopped by for a visit) but we couldn't go ashore. The bureaucracy and requirement for an agent to clear in meant it was easier to just stay on the boat.
After a favorable weather report in the morning we decided to head back out and toward, but with the intent of passing, Cartagena on our way to the San Blas Islands in Panama. Then it turned to sh*t again. Wind wasn't terrible but sea swells and chop were huge and awfully confused - which meant the sails flogged back and forth. At this point we said enough of this and we started up the engine and motored, bounced, rocked, rolled, surfed and pitched our way toward Panama. We took a huge wave over the stern that came down the companionway and into the cabin. Nothing seemed dry after that.
Arriving at the San Blas archipelago late evening two days later we determined it unwise to attempt navigation through the coral at night and turned to head direct for Colon. A shame in one respect, as we had hoped (as per our intention) to rendezvous with the kiwis for a couple of days in the San Blas. The swells though calmer were very much large enough to be annoying and the wind died completely. Again the AIS system was constantly put to use as we contacted vessels for avoidance and weather. About half way up the island chain, after contacting one vessel, we got a call from a local cruiser who had heard our name on the airwaves. He said that they had been in contact with Sal Away, who were very worried about us as they too had experienced challenging conditions on their (and our intended) more northerly route. Ian and the guys had arrived in San Blas a couple of days earlier. (Actually had it not been for our overnighter in Columbia we would only have been one day behind them - so we're pretty happy about that) We were able to pass on confirmation of our well being. It was also super nice to know that we were being looked out for. The cruising community is truly a fantastic bunch of people! From the San Blas to Colon it was a rolly swell and no wind. We took this opportunity to remove the 30 or so flying fish that had met their end on our deck.
Arriving at the entrance of the Colon breakwater (and the start of the canal) was stunning. The amount and size of large commercial vessels was staggering and we deftly scooted through between ships at the direction of the port authority. We got a fantastic welcome at the Shelter Bay Marina from the staff and were soon tied up at a slip and headed for showers. Stopped on our way by Bob and Susan Simmons, a couple of fellow cruisers, they asked if we were the crew of Coolabah. Confirming this we were told that the San Blas cruisers had telephoned them here at the marina and were to report back our safe arrival. Again we felt amazed at the sense of comfort our community of cruisers provides.
There will be more to report as we settle down with boat maintenance and provisioning over the next few days prior to our transit through the canal.
Oh… (and after this cr*p we've just been through) Harry thinks nothing of a 40 mile trip now!
Check out "voyages of coolabah" at Google maps to see our course and www.jenningsahoy.com
