Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The two iron gates had been locked now, and the boats inside the lock were securely lashed
to the canal wall; soon we could see why this was so important. The water beneath us began
to bubble and boil and change color to a pale blue green as twenty-five million gallons
of water were pumped into this first stage lock from Lake Gatun. We weren't expecting
the turbulence that followed. I was knocked off my feet and almost fell overboard, and the
others were as violently thrown about. The boat rocked wildly about within her stays, and
Mike turned white with fright, “I 'ope those bloody cleats hold, that's all!” he wailed. As
the lock filled, the turbulence abated, and we thrilled at the feeling of rising with the level
of the water.
I was amazed at how little space was left on either side of the huge oil tanker and the canal
walls. The locks are one hundred and ten feet wide, and the widest that these tankers are
built is one hundred and eight feet, allowing just one foot spare on either side.
The next shock, which we were told to expect, was the initial propeller thrust of the tanker,
just to get the ball rolling, so to speak. It certainly got our little boat rolling about, and it
was a lot worse than the lock filling had been. We were bucked and thrown about like a toy
yacht in the bath, but the linesmen on shore knew their job though and were in control at
all times. Apparently they have annual rope heaving competitions to see who can throw the
most accurate coil of line the farthest!
Finally, the big tanker moved forward at a sedate two or three knots, towed along by the
four “mules” and we were towed along behind by our four linesmen. The other set of gates
were situated at the Gatun Lake side, and now that the water level was even, they were
open to receive the line of boats. We had been raised about forty feet higher than the At-
lantic Ocean. We had some thirty-eight miles to sail to get to the next set of locks which
had to be completed in daylight. (Each skipper is asked to sign a paper stating that his ves-
sel could at least make five knots underway.)
Lake Gatun was a very attractive body of water to sail across, and we were instructed to
take the shortcut through “banana cut” as this is called. It was fed by the Chagres River and
was flanked by heavy, South American jungle. We saw many wild, colorful birds, parrots,
and exotic looking creatures, even troupes of monkeys swinging about on long thick vines
from the canopy above. We were motor sailing and made good speed, arriving on time at
the two sets of Miraflores Locks which would lower us about sixty feet into the Pacific.
The only real incident that happened here was at the last lock while we were motoring out
of the entrance: somehow we managed to plow into the wall, though luckily with not too
much damage to the bow, as poor Mike had had enough excitement for one day.
We motor sailed to the holding ground off the main channel, and Mike motored us all to
the Balboa Yacht Club in his dinghy where we had a hot meal and a few rounds of beer.
