Land Travel

My new fav photo. My dad and Vlad watching capybaras. 

Traveling by land has its perks. Sure, you have to pay for a place to sleep and there isn't the convenience of a kitchen and the water doesn't rock you to sleep at night. But we had spent pretty much all of our time exploring the coast of Panama, completing neglecting all the interior has to offer.

Well, no more. Take our trip to Gamboa, a town adjacent to the Canal and on the edge of the rainforest that also, incidentally, looks like a Panamanian Mayberry. We spent two days at the schmancy Gamboa Rainforest Resort with its picturesque views of the Chagres River, and, yes, each room has a hammock on the balcony. As it turned out, the resort is the northernmost range of the world's largest rodent - the capybara - and we got to get out amongst a herd of these rodents of unusual size.

We also took my dad on an arial tram canopy tour, and while Vlad caught up on some much needed sleep, Dad and I went on an early morning bird watching expedition on Pipeline Road, one of the world's premier birding sites. My dad digs the birds, though I'm not much of a birder myself. Nevertheless, I got kind of into it, mainly because I enjoy the ridiculousness of bird names (Purple-throated Fruitcrow, Pied Water Tyrant, the Tawny-faced Gnatwren and the Common Snipe, to name but a few choice monikers), but also because there's some sport in birdwatching. Seeing a tiny bird perched on a twig in a mass of dense foliage is extremely difficult and trying to take a photo as the Broad-billed Motmot bounces from limb to limb is even worse.

A Bicolored Antbird

We saw about 50 different species of birds in the five hours we were out, as well as some non avians including two troupes of howler monkeys, a family of white-faced coati and another sloth! (Sloth Watch 2013 kind of got pushed to the side during this outing. The birders just weren't that in to it.) Alas, we only heard, but did not glimpse, my namesake. Evidently, there is a bird called an Attila, but not just Attila - a Bright-rumped Attila - which everyone seemed to find highly amusing especially our Panamanian birding guides.

Anyway, I have now found myself describing the call of a toucan to unsuspecting passersby while they stare at me with slightly concerned expressions as I make a sound like a loud tree frog with a chest cold. On second thought, maybe we should really get back to the boat.

Sloth Watch 2013: It's On!

Look very closely at the center of the photo.

One of the main reasons my dad came to visit us in Panama was to check out sloths, and so Sloth Watch was born. Vlad and I had seen several of the slow gangly-armed creatures on Isla Bastimentos but hadn't seen a single one since. I was beginning to get worried. What if the sloths are on some kind of hiatus this time of year? What if - perish the thought - my dad doesn't get to see one doing its thing in the wild.

It's times like this when one should emulate the sloth and just relax while staring furiously into the dense jungle canopy. And when one should trust in Vlad's eagle eyes.

We had spent a nice morning wandering the trails of the Parque Natural Metropolitano, a huge park in the middle of Panama City, and I had developed an uncomfortable crick in my neck from staring up into the trees, not to mention a growing unease about tripping over a rock. The sloths were nowhere to be seen.

That's when we came to a break in the foliage, and Vlad noticed a ball of fur high up in a tree scratching itself with one clawed paw. It was a big, male three-toed doing what sloths do best, which is, truth be told, not much of anything. We sat down, ate cookies and watched it do just that.

Sloth watching at its best.

Dad's Visit in Photos

We have taken my dad on a whirlwind tour of Panama using Panama City as a base. Here's a peek at what we've done so far in photos. 

Miraflores Locks:

The Parque Natural Metropolitano:

The Panama Canal Train:

The ruined batteries of Fort Sherman just outside of Shelter Bay Marina:

My Dad's in Town!

My dad looking pretty pleased with the train ride.

We have sure had some visitors aboard Bettie. But because my dad isn't super crazy about boats and more importantly likes looking at animals, we decided to play his visit a little differently. That's right, we are rocking the land-based travel. Hence the reason why I am at this very moment sitting on the balcony of the La Estancia Bed & Breakfast watching parrots fly past.

With the boat all squared away, the canal paperwork sorted and the tires and lines delivered, we have now scampered off to Panama City to be, of all things, tourists. So far, we have shuttled my dad to the Miraflores Locks and the Parque Natural Metropolitano and took a peek at some abandoned American military instillations that looked like something out of Indiana Jones complete with bats and howler monkeys. We also took him for a ride on the famed Panama Canal Railroad, a clacking jaunt through jungle and alongside the canal and Gatún Lake in a regal looking observation car.

Unfortunately, though, we did have a man down. On my dad's first night here, we were walking back from dinner, and Vlad stepped on a manhole cover. It literally shot out from under him, and he almost fell all the way in to a Panamanian sewer, catching himself at his waist at the last moment. A passerby rushed over to help, who happened to work at the Indian consulate. We asked him if there was anyone we could call to report the loose (and dangerous!) manhole cover - the police or maybe city maintenance - and he just laughed. There's no one you can call, he said, and his main advice was to not step on manhole covers.

Ouch.

Thankfully, Vlad didn't suffer any major damage, but he did get a pretty nasty cut on his leg and was bruised up enough that walking around has been difficult. Panama City is dangerous but in unexpected ways.

We Were San Blasted

Three and a half months in the San Blas has a way of changing your behavior. Before we went into the islands, the land where time floats away, we were pretty motivated people. Vlad worked on our boat and made money by working on other people's boats. I did all kinds of chores and boat maintenance without a second thought.

But the San Blas turned all that to mush, leaving me at least with little drive or ambition, just a bit too dreamy for the real world and with an "oh, why don't we just go swimming" kind of attitude. That kind of thing works in the San Blas, but it sure doesn't get your stainless polished. When we finally left the Kuna Yala and encountered, you know, normal things like going to the grocery store or arranging travel plans, they left us exhausted and wondering how do people do more than one thing in a day. And  to make matters worse, we discovered that our brains had also gone on a bit of a vacation. All of a sudden we were having to make plans and think logically and and just generally be aware, and it wasn't a seamless transition. I was seriously considering doing some math problems just to get my brain back into shape!

The San Blas is just a different way of doing business. Instead of multitasking, you mono-task. Instead of dodging traffic at 40 miles an hour, you're dodging reefs at 2 knots (and the reefs don't move!). Almost nothing has to be done right away, so you let go of the frenetic tempo of the outside world.

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), we now have that tempo back. We put our boat in Shelter Bay Marina and have worked pretty much continuously for eight hours a day. Like normal people. Somehow, I even managed to cook dinner and do the dishes.

P.S. I just wanted to say thank you to all the wedding well-wishers. All the love means a lot to us!     

Plans, Plans and Big News

The other day one of our blog friends asked us what we were going to do once we got through the canal - right, left or straight ahead? And the answer is (drumroll please) . . . to the right! We are Mexico bound with a possible stop off at the Perlas Islands and El Salvador just to break up the long, potentially windless trip.

We have been dreaming of Mexico ever since we left the Yucatán way back in June. The good food, the nice people, the relaxed atmosphere, the vibrancy of the culture - we loved it when we were there and pined for it when we left. Plus, we are ready to see something besides the impenetrable jungle. How 'bout some desert flora? Or arid, rust-colored mountains? Or coyotes?

Of course, we do have another important motive for heading up to Mexico besides just a change in scenery. We are getting married!! Vlad got my mom to smuggle in my grandmother's ring, and he proposed to me at the Cocos Banderos Islands in the San Blas via squid.

I was supposed to prepare the squid he had speared, only to find the ring wrapped up in its tentacles. Anyway, it was hilarious and romantic and heart stopping and perfect, and we got to share the moment with my mom and Bob, which was really special. The Kuna family on the island seemed pretty pleased with it as well, and I'm surprised they didn't throw us into a hammock right then and there. (Aside: Kuna weddings involve tossing the groom into a hammock, then putting the bride in as well. She promptly gets out. They do this four times, and on the fourth time she stays in the hammock. Then, everyone cries and drinks the Kuna version of horchata.)

So those are our plans and the big, huge, wonderful news. Now all we have to do is get through the canal and travel 2,000 miles up to Puerto Vallarta through an area marked "Variable Winds" in the World Cruising Routes before the end of May. Easy as pie. Or a slice of weddings cake!

Panama Canal Fever

Right now, for Team Bettie it is all things Panama Canal all the time. We are getting the boat and ourselves prepared, our paperwork completed, our engine in tip top shape for that seminal moment, that great transition, crossing from one ocean to another.

But we've done two special things to get us extra ready for this undertaking. First off, we read The Path Between the Seas, David McCullough's richly detailed history of the building of the Panama Canal. Suggested by our friends Jess and James on Adamastor, the book tells a fascinating story filled with politics, intrigue, death and giant earthmoving machines and was a great way to become more connected to the whole canal experience. 

The other thing we did was line handle for our friends on Cypraea. Line handling for another cruising boat is key because it takes away the anxiety of the unknown, even though the transit was pretty much what we expected.

Here's one last look at the port in Colón.

On the first set of locks, we rafted up with two other boats, as many tires as possible squished between us. In this arrangement, Cypraea was only in charge of two working lines - one at the bow and one at the stern of the starboard side. And it was a night transit, giving an eerie touch to the whole shindig, a dark, industrial feel combined with the bright yellow glow of working lights, the deep bellow of the lock doors closing and turbulent, muddy water pushing us upward.   

After overnighting in Gatun Lake, we spent five hours crossing the lake beginning at first light, and arrived at the last set of locks around 11:00 a.m. We tied up next to a ferry to downlock, which was pretty straightforward once we figured out that we had to untie from the ferry to go between locks. (On a side note, it really, really helps when your advisor communicates with you. Our first advisor, Will, always told us what to do before we did it and while we were doing it. The second guy? Not so much.)

Vlad and Jennie on deck.

Cargo ships with our morning coffee.

We finished our transit in the early afternoon, and Vlad, myself and the other linehandlers, this super sweet couple from Australia, headed back to Colón. The main thing we learned was that transiting is a mostly slow business, meaning that if something goes wrong don't panic. Just calmly fix it. If a knot slips, don't cry. Just retie. There will always be some level of nervousness when you bring your boat into a concrete box with a massive cargo ship, but we just listened to our advisor (the one who talked!) and it all turned out just fine. The only spot that's hairy is the last lock. A very strong current runs through it, and Bettie will get pushed around for sure.

It’s easy to discount the canal crossing as ordinary, something that happens every day, one of the many pathways for world commerce. But for us newbies, it’s not only an engineering feat of impressive proportions but also a psychological milestone. One morning you’re looking at the choppy, blue green Caribbean, and the next afternoon, the long rolling possibilities of the Pacific are spread out before you.

Thanks, Dave and Jennie for letting us transit with you and happy sailing!

Our first look at the Pacific.