We were hoping to have been long gone from Panama City by now, but like so many other times we’ve had similar hopes for leaving a place, reality has again intruded, and here we still are. We’ve had to redo a bunch of the solar panel work thanks to shoddy contractors, but luckily we’ve finally found some real experts who’ve whipped us into shape during the past week.. Finding quality help in weird places is one of the big challenges of extended sailing. Our advice is to never engage any contractor without first thoroughly researching your options with local yachties who’ve been sitting on the anchor for a while. This was a particular challenge for us in Panama City, so email us if you’re coming this way and we’ll point you in the right direction.

As we bounce around from port to port, we’ve met some pretty fascinating and unusual people from all corners of the world….. “normal” people just don’t find themselves in places like the ones we’re now visiting. We’ve benefited greatly from this – the perspectives they bring us, and our growing ability to see things in different ways, have taught us much about how to think about life and how the world really works. This form of personal growth is just one reason we encourage people to travel, take an interest in foreign cultures, and most importantly, make friends from around the world. The past few days have been a perfect example of this thanks to our solar panel welder / installer, Alfie, who we’ve spent most of our time with this week.

Alfie’s been installing our solar panels with a type of efficiency that really must be seen to be appreciated. Soon after meeting Alfie we realized he knew a lot about cruising sailing, perhaps more than anybody we’ve met, and pretty soon he was teaching us about everything from fishing to anchoring to boat building to metallurgy. The more he spoke, the more curious we became about who he was and how he knew so much about so many things. During the past week we’ve become almost inseparable from Alfie and his wife Gerty and been blessed to learn their story. In the process Alfie’s taught us, through the example of his own experiences, some rather profound lessons about how to think differently and how to live happily.

Alfie is German with two science degrees and a professional degree in welding who was “supposed” to go to work in the German factories. But instead Alfie decided to go exploring for a better life, first by driving around Europe and Africa, then after meeting Gerty and running out of places to drive, he bought an almost-abandoned boat so they could explore further afield. Alfie fixed the boat himself, then launched it into the Mediterranean Sea without ever having sailed anything before, and they simply sailed away into the unknown. The reward for Alfie’s (and Gerty’s) adventurous spirit has been remarkable – a history overflowing with unforgettable life experiences on every continent, an encyclopedia of worldly knowledge, and a happiness and excitement for life you rarely find anywhere. They’ve raised four kids in the process, who have all become true citizens of the world, impossible to associate with any single nationality, and as a family they’ve accomplished more than can possibly be listed here (although some interesting examples include Alfie’s appearance in the Monty Python movie Life of Brian and his son Eric’s now famous sailing book, the Panama Cruising Guide [http://www.sailorsnet.com/Panama_Cruising_Guide_Eric_Bauhaus.htm], but their list of achievements really is endless.). They aren’t traditional role models, but the family is a true inspiration for us, and we’re grateful for everything we’ve learned from them.

So we leave Panama City more than a week later than we hoped, but thanks to our new friendships, the delay was a huge blessing. On the practical front, we’ve completed our provisioning for the Pacific crossing, filled the fuel tanks, fixed everything that was broken, and with solar panels installed and working perfectly, we feel we’re in better shape then ever. We’re now heading off to the Perlas Islands just a day away to await good weather for our passage to the Golapagos – we’ve heard there are whales in the area so we’ll be keeping a close watch.

The last couple weeks have reminded us that “sailing around the world” should more appropriately be called “fixing a boat around the world”. Our averages for the past 16 months since beginning this exercise in so called “sailing” are not impressive… if we categorized our days by activity, they’d look something like this:

• Fixing the boat in port: 50%
• Moving the boat (sailing / motoring): 25%
• Customs / immigration / logistics: 5%
• Exploring / relaxing / enjoying things: 20%

If you’re good at math, you’ll immediately recognize that just 1 in 5 days are actually spent doing things that are fun (the ones we normally write about). Our numbers, we think, are about par for the course because we don’t see a whole lot of people beating our figures so far, at least not anyone trying to circumnavigate in three years or less. The trick people use to improve the averages is to slow down or just stay in one area, like the Caribbean or the Med, often for years or even decades, which is why so many “circumnavigations” morph into extended regional cruises.

So now we find ourselves fighting a seemingly absurd collection of forces that are trying to keep us in Panama City and morph our circumnavigation dreams into a decade long Central American cruise. And while that‘s probably not going to happen, weeks like these do drive us a little nuts and make us question the advisability of an endeavor like ours. We won’t call our current situation an ATL (all time low), but we’re approaching the danger zone if our solar panel work drags on any longer. The good news is that our whining should come to an end by the middle of next week because our Panamanian departure is finally in sight and that means we should be Galapagos-bound shortly.

Equally exciting is the last minute addition of Javier to our crew list, who’s someone we had never even spoken to before last week. Because we’re about to head across the Pacific, this means he’ll likely become a major character on our storyboard, so get used to hearing his name (“Javi” is his nickname so far, but that might change). Javi is from Barcelona and is much smarter than we are. I say that because he’s sailing around the world like us, but has somehow figured out how to bypass the annoying task of owning a boat. Instead he hops from boat to boat like a professional hitchhiker and people like us are glad to welcome him aboard. He’s quadralngual (four languages and learning a fifth) and an accomplished sailor which will be a huge blessing in our shift scheduling across the Pacific and through the islands on the other side. We’ve had great experiences when we’ve done similar things in the past with Legend and Rupe, both of whom have become major characters in the earlier part of our story, and have turned into great friends in the process.

So it’s our last weekend in Panama City (we hope) and this is our last chance to experience some of the city’s somewhat famous nightlife scene (the city has little else to offer other than its nightlife). It’s got a touch of Miami and a touch of Vegas, but way fewer rules, and that’s a pretty good combination if you’re into things like gambling, partying, bar hopping, and crazy Saturday nights (some of which we’re not totally opposed to ourselves from time to time). But if you ever find yourself down here, be careful because the large tourist and gringo expat population from the north (or to be more accurate, their wallets) attracts flocks of ultra-friendly beautiful Colombian “working girls” from the south, many trying to one-up each other with bigger and rounder fake silicone butts (yes butts, not boobs, and for northerners who’ve never seen this before, it can be an impressive and expensive sight). The “working” situation isn’t totally obvious at first so when we went out last weekend we thought we were simply on fire with the ladies, even inventing a couple new dance moves before figuring out how things really work around here (i.e. $150/hour)…. but for that one legendary “hour of confusion”, wow, we suggest you try an hour or two yourself (of confusion, that is).

In a way what we’ve just done is a form of cheating. Until 100 years ago, a circumnavigation by sailboat would require a trip around Cape Horn at the bottom of South America, far below the 50th parallel where the temperatures are cold, the seas huge and unpredictable, and where the winds blow fiercely from the west. Back in those days, before the invention of GPS, autopilots, and fancy communication equipment, novice sailors like us had no business circumnavigating at all…. to attempt it would be almost suicidal. But things have changed since then, and the biggest difference between then and now is the existence of the Panama Canal, which we think of as one of the world’s two greatest shortcuts (the Suez Canal at the top of the Red Sea being the second place rival). The cost for building this shortcut was steep – 22,000 French workers and 5600 American workers died during the complicated 35 year construction period, mainly due to Malaria and Yellow Fever, not to mention the cash expense (billions in today’s dollars).

Our transit through this 48 mile century-old megastrcuture from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean took just 24 hours. It seems outrageously expensive with fees approaching $3,000 for our transit and over $300,000 for the big super-tankers and cargo ships, but still a relative bargain compared to the alternative of sailing around the continent. Contrary to what many people think, the canal is not a big long trench connecting the two oceans. The canal is really a long freshwater lake (Gatun Lake) about 100 feet above sea level, with an “elevator” on each end to get boats up and down into the lake. The “elevator” on each end is a series of gated locks – boats go in, lock doors close, water floods the lock as the boats rise up, lock doors open, boats move into the next lock, and the process repeats three times until the final lock opens onto the lake. The process reverses on the other end of the 45 mile long Gatun Lake.

The transit itself was an unforgettable experience. The volume of large ship traffic forces you to wonder if the world might be a very different place if not for this canal, which not only is important for purposes of trade, but also for military planning, all of which has a huge impact on the world’s balance of economic and geopolitical power. It’s no surprise the place is swarming with a large US and Panamanian military presence.

For a boat like ours to transit the canal, we’re required to have four line-handlers aboard, whose job it is to secure ropes to the canal walls with the help of canal operators on the shore. For us this meant recruiting a few friends to hop aboard, which was a pretty easy task (thank you Sam, Frank, and Baz). We tied up alongside another sailing boat (Dragonfly) which was also transiting that day, which made things much more simple inside the locks (we take care of the starboard lines, they take care of the port side lines).

So here we are in the Pacific Ocean for the first time in our voyage and finally thinking seriously about all we have to do in this ocean over the next year. This is an exciting junction for us, but before we get started towards French Polynesia we first need a couple weeks to install solar panels and tie up some other loose ends on the boat…. as always, mechanical and electrical considerations are a big part of what this is all about. It also gives us a little time to explore Panama City, which we’ve heard great things about.

We’ve assembled a time lapse video of our exit from Gatun Lake, through the canal locks on the Pacific Side, and into the Pacific Ocean. You’ll notice no advanced sailing skills are required to sail from Atlantic to Pacific…. check it out: