Anduril Sailing Blog: Gaining Panama the Hard Way

Leaving Golfito and crossing the border into Panama by sea requires traveling around a long pointed peninsula. As with most marine headlands there are currents and winds to contend with.

Aside from the odd passing rain squall we have not had much in the way of wind and the passage into Panama was light airs. The currents around Punta Burica were a different story. As we headed south we found ourselves in a strong tidal rip that behaves like a permanent gyre. A gyre is a big whirl-pool that accumulates floating debris. We were trying to keep a good lookout, but floaty stuff often hides waterlogged and semi-submerged. This makes it darned hard to see no matter how closely you are watching. Greg was at the nav station chatting on the radio and Alice had just popped below to grab a drink when there was a loudish thunky bump. What was that? blurted out Greg. A millisecond later the boat lurched with a WHAM!

We were both back on deck in a flash and slammed the throttle arm to neutral, but the boat was already dead in the water. Looking over the side we could see we had run into a great big ugly floating log and we had ridden right up on top of it. Taking a hard clunk at sea is never a good thing and our worry index was experiencing a sharp spike. It didn’t appear that any debris was near the propeller, so Greg backed the boat down off the log and we could now get a good look what we had whacked: it was three feet in diameter and about 30 feet long. A nasty rotting log that had been in the water for years.

A quick check of the keel bolts showed no leaks and there was no water entering from the bow. The only thing to do was to don mask and snorkel and have a look-see at the bottom for a damage check. Fear and loathing of potential damage was made creepier by the deep murky water and the presence of a lot of fish swimming around the boat. Greg gets freaked out for some reason when swimming in deep water offshore. The feeling is of being a prey animal in the presence of predator fish, so the swim was kept as short as was reasonable to carry out a damage assessment. Amazingly, though it felt like a really hard thump, there was no apparent damage. The knot-meter spinner had scooped up some rotten wood as it passed over the rotten log, but other than that there was not even a scratch on the bottom.

We had gotten lucky. The bow must have hit the log on the upwards part of a wave and then the boat rode up the log, slowing the boat down as it pushed the log down into the water. When the forward edge of our keel root reached the log it suddenly stopped the boat altogether. Hitting the log, even though it was a big one, was not near as bad as striking a no-give bottom rock. The keel root in our boat is extremely strong, so aside from the trauma of Greg having nearly swallowed his ass-hole in the first moments after the strike, all proved well in the end. We carried on at slow motoring speed until we cleared the rip tide zone and tried to calm our shaken nerves.

Rounding the corner into Panamanian waters we spent a night anchored on the roadstead before carrying on in the morning to Puerto Armuelles for check-in. Latin-America is well-known for its officious ways. Panama is obviously very proud of that heritage and the paperwork they issue to their officials for visiting boaters puts them in the top echelons of human bureaucratic endeavour.

The man in uniform was Reinaldo Omar Barrantes N., Oficial de Abordaje. Luckily he was friendly. A kind and solicitous man, he did almost all the paperwork for us, painstakingly completing each form in careful penmanship - pressing hard through 6 carbon copies. Afterwards he sheparded us through 3 additional offices, each with their own assortment of additional forms to sign, stamp and issue. The paperwork took all day. We were able to take a break after 3 hours for some shopping and to take lunch before returning at 4pm to receive the final document, our cruising permit. As the sun set we found ourselves lighter some USD $275 in fees. But we were richer a thick sheaf of officially issued stamped papers. Possession of these papers produced a strong feeling of officially approved relaxation while we enjoyed our nightly sundowner and contemplated our day’s work .

Isla Parida is 30 miles from Armuelles and was our destination for the morning after check in. The passage was uneventful and we spent four nights at Parida, making a circle around the island, checking out all its lovely anchorages and snorkeling while we explored. Despite a hard introduction, western Panama has proven to be another place favourite. More on that when we next post.

An overnight anchored on the 'shelf' at Punta Balsa, Panama.

The pier at Armuelles, Panama.

Consider our options: i) climb the rusty ladder to the condemned pier or ii) a dingy beach landing. We chose the dingy beach landing because the surf was low.

Who is Lucy?

Friendly official from the port captain's office.

It was a welcome change to have the Port Captain, Immigration, Customs, the Quarantine office and the Merchant Marine office all on the same street corner.