Think if you like of the distance we have come, but never let your mind run forward faster than your vessel.

Lieutenant William Bligh*

Right now, for the first time, I am writing this while sitting in the cockpit of KAINANI.  All of my other posts have been written while sitting down below in the salon.  Today is too nice of a day and it is too hot down below to sit there writing.  Also, Kaeo is taking a nap on the settee so the cockpit is the next best place.  Besides, days like today have been few and far between on this voyage so I should take advantage of the good weather while I can.

The wind died down yesterday, as predicted, and has shifted to the northwest.  The blue sky is dotted with low white fluffy cumulous clouds and the sea is a rolling sapphire blue.  The lack of wind has forced us to set the D-sail (a.k.a. the diesel engine) but we are still making good speed at over 7 knots under mostly full main and, when the wind shifts a few degrees to port, a close hauled headsail.  When the wind is on the nose, which it has been for about half of today, we roll up the headsail completely.  Nobody on board is complaining about having to motor sail.  Since leaving Panama a month ago we have had favorable winds for the entire crossing with no need to use the engine other than one day during the beginning of the voyage.  The rest of the time we have only fired up the engine whenever the batteries needed an extra charge, usually at night when the solar panels aren’t up for the task.

Today was the first day since Uncle Chip Day that we put the fishing lines back in the water.  No, we are not sick of eating fish yet, though we still have some left from Chip’s day in the freezer.  The last two nights we have dined on the final remaining freezer packs that Jen and I made back in Panama (savory steak and Cajun shrimp).  Since we have more room in the freezer now we decided to put the lines back out this morning and, of course, as soon as we sat down to eat our lunch we had a beautiful Mahi hook up to one of the lures.  Keao and Chip have cleaning the fish down to a science so in no time at all we had the fish dressed, the blood cleaned up, and were sitting back down to our quesadillas before they could even get cold.

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At some point tonight or tomorrow the wind is supposed to shift to the east and carry us the final 600 miles or so to Hawaii.  Jen is taking advantage of the calm weather, and the fact that we now know we have plenty of fresh water on board for the remainder of our voyage (less than four days, fingers crossed) to take a shower.  I will probably follow her lead and do the same when she’s done.

Until then, I’m going to wrap up this post, enjoy my beer (oh yeah, we have plenty of beer for the rest of the trip too) and soak in the fine ocean weather.  While on deck, I may keep a weather eye open for one of those old glass balls that Chip is hoping to find.  Or, I may just take a nap.  I tell ya, life at sea does not get much better than this.

Aloha!

*A note about the quote: Many remember Bligh as the ill-fated captain of the HMS BOUNTY and the mutiny for which he and the ship have become famous. What many do not know, however, is that after the mutiny, Bligh was largely responsible for the survival of himself and nineteen other crew who were forced into an open boat and set to drift in the South Pacific. From the island of Tahiti they sailed 3,618 nautical miles of open ocean, crossing the Great Barrier Reef, before finding safe harbor in Timor. The quote above was something that Bligh is credited to have spoken to one of his midshipmen in that open boat after he had asked Bligh, “How far will New Holland be from where we are, sir?” Though he had many failings in life, it cannot be denied that William Bligh was one of the greatest navigators of his day.

Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they are going.

Paul Theroux

Yesterday morning everyone slowly crept out of their cabins to enjoy the perfect weather; blue sky, partly cloudy, and a crystal clear deep blue Pacific Ocean.  Prior to having breakfast we downloaded the latest weather forecast, checked our longitude, and then discussed the day’s main topic: would we celebrate Uncle Chip Day that day or the next?

You see, of the four of us on board, Jen, Keao, and I have all celebrated a birthday since arriving together in Panama.  That leaves Chip, whose birthday is in January, without a day of his own.  In order to keep him from feeling left out, it was unanimously decided that the day we altered course from west to northwest, a momentous occasion in and of itself, would be declared “Uncle Chip Day,” and would be celebrated just as if it was Chip’s birthday.  So, yesterday we crossed longitude 140˚ W and made that slight right turn from a heading of 270˚ T to 318˚ T.  This was the start of the last major leg of our journey and, all going well, will bring us to Hawaii in about a week and a half.

To start the celebrations off right, I pulled out the last of the pancake mix and made breakfast, complete with birthday candle in Chip’s stack.  After breakfast, Jen and I mixed up her grandmother’s coconut impossible pie recipe and set that in the oven to bake.  Then Jen made a lunch of ham, egg, and cheese sandwiches before Chip retired below for a three hour nap.  The rest of us stayed on deck and took advantage of the reduced apparent wind (on this course the wind is more behind us) to play cards, which is something we haven’t been able to do since we left Panama.

In order to prolong the magic, and also because it was time to do it, we retarded our clocks one hour, putting us only one time-zone away from Hawaii time and making Uncle Chip Day 25 hours long instead of just the normal 24.  This also meant that, by the time we started cooking dinner, our stomachs were already grumbling.  On the dinner menu for Uncle Chip Day was the last of the filets along with mashed potatoes.

All day long we had been trolling with two lines in the water, the same as every day, but did not catch anything.  The last fish to be caught was a small yellow tail tuna, but that was over five days ago and we were beginning to think we were as unlucky as Hemmingway’s Old Man (who went 87 days without catching a fish, by the way).  The winds were relatively light and our speed through the water was well below the ideal trolling speed to catch anything worth eating.  Wouldn’t you know it though, as soon as I put those steaks on the grill one of the lines snapped out of its clip and tightened with an audible twang.  A large silvery flash in the water behind us and we all knew dinner would be served late.

Since I was next to the grill, I was the closest to the line so I snatched it up and started pulling it in hand over hand.  It was a big fish and I was afraid it would run, the line burning through my hand as it did.  But half way in toward the boat it seemed to give up the hard fight and resigned itself to its fate.  Once I had it alongside Keao gaffed the fish, a Kava Kava tuna, and hauled it on board.  Once onboard it apparently had a change of heart and proceeded to fight a bloody fight to gain its freedom.  It was a valiant effort but did not succeed and, after waiting for the last quivers of life to leave its body, we made quick work of slicing the warm meat off its bones (tuna are warm blooded, in case you did not know).

By the time we had committed the carcass of our valiant fish to the briny deep and cleaned the copious amount of blood out of the cockpit, our dinner had lost its warmth.  I won’t say the steaks were cold because the tropical heat doesn’t allow anything to get truly cold.  We enjoyed the dinner nonetheless and finished off the coconut pie as the sun set below the horizon.  All in all, it was a great Uncle Chip Day.

Today was an almost exact replica of yesterday, with the exception of all the festivities.  No pancakes for anyone for breakfast, just cereal.  For lunch, however, we did make use of the previous days catch.  Keao and Chip prepared one of Hawaii’s signature dishes, poke, over white rice.  It was delicious.  It was also a good thing we made some room in the fridge because, shortly after lunch, we landed another fish.

We had two lines out again but were moving so slow through the water that we didn’t expect to catch anything.  But then we sailed right by a huge piece of floating garbage, what looked like a floating hatch cover.  Underneath, hiding in the shadows was a school of Mahi and one of them grabbed onto the same lure as the day before.  Keao had it on deck quickly and we set to work cleaning it.  It was a beautiful fish and we will enjoy it and the tuna from the day before for the next few days, if not longer.

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At dinner we discussed the remaining distance (less than 1,500 NM), the forecasted weather, and when we might arrive in Hawaii.  The wind dropped down and the sails started flapping so we turned on the D-sail (the diesel engine, get it?) and settled in for the start of night watches.  Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Aloha!

Oceangoing sailors who seek to learn from their predecessors cannot base themselves on the clippers, but are forced to search back over the centuries to vessels of similar dimensions to their own that faced equivalent conditions.

David Lewis – from We, the Navigators

Today is the first day of our fourth week at sea.  We could not ask for better weather than what we are seeing and feeling now.  The winds are a steady 15 knots out of the southeast, the seas are 1 to 2 feet out of the same direction, and the predominant swell is out of the south southeast at about 6 feet.  The water has warmed to tropical temperatures, which is amazing considering it is several miles deep.  The sky is crystal blue and the clouds are like white puffy cotton balls.  I already have more pictures of beautiful sunrises and sunsets than I will know what to do with, and we still have another week and a half to two weeks left.

Our heading is still due west and we will continue this direction at least until Thursday (it’s Tuesday today) at which point we will take a hard look at the weather predictions and decide when to make the turn north.  There are a couple of low pressure systems well to the north that could develop into significant depressions, so we will keep an eye on them.  The great thing about modern navigation is the real time access to weather forecasting.  This allows us to plan our route to avoid anything that might turn nasty.

We celebrated Keao’s birthday the other day by making pancakes for breakfast.  For a cake we made Jen’s “Impossible Pie,” which is like a coconut custard or flan.  We are still eating very well on board but, due to freezer issues, were forced to get rid of six meals worth of freezer packs that Jen and I prepared before we left.  No big deal, we still have plenty of other food.  Though, I was disappointed that we didn’t get to try the teriyaki chicken before it went bad (i.e. looked like chicken, smelled like fish).

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Speaking of fish, we are finding it hard to catch anything out in the literal middle of the Pacific Ocean.  We’ve had a couple small bonitos on the hook but they are not good eating and were too small anyway.  Chip pulled in a small yellow fin two days ago, maybe 2 lbs, which he turned into a good black-and-blue appetizer for us.  Other than that, we have not seen any big fish since the last Mahi we got over a week ago.  We’ve changed the lures a couple times but this stretch of ocean just feels like a desert.  But what do I know?  Our luck could change tomorrow.  Fingers crossed.

Aloha!

What a difference from the day before. The angry, gray, foaming-at-the-mouth waters were transformed into sparkling blue mounds with bubbly crests blowing up into a spray that shimmered like crystals.

Tania Aebi – from Maiden Voyage

The past couple days have seen some changes in the weather out here.  When we turned west last week, the wind was just ahead of the beam blowing 15 to 20 knots.  As the days ticked on, the wind veered slowly to the south and then southeast so that it was on the beam, our fastest point of sail.  We were happy for the speed and the mileage we were racking up on a daily basis (225 nautical miles is our best so far) but the lack of sunshine and the constant heal and motion of the boat was getting old.

Cooking in the galley, though not as bad as the first week of the trip when we were beating into a southwest wind, was still an adventure.  The low flying clouds covered the sky most of the day, only parting just enough for a few minutes to tease us with a little sunshine.  At night, the clouds would recede for one person’s watch, revealing a canvas of stars, only to return on the next watch.  Jen and I had set a goal to take a picture of every sunrise and sunset while out at sea.  Up to that point, we had a lot of pictures of gray horizons.

Two days ago, however, a slight change in the wind brought forth a clear sky and warmer temperatures.  Now, with the apparent wind slightly abaft of the beam, we were running with the swells on our port quarter.  The boat was flatter and the motion became smoother.  The color of the water seemed to change slightly as well.  It seemed more clear and brilliant, like a sapphire and the sun sparkled and shone through it just like a gem.

Just after breakfast, as we all were soaking in this perfect weather, we were joined by a huge pod of spotted dolphins.  Jen went to the bow and called them in close.  Soon, hundreds of dolphins were playing all around us, some swimming in our bow wave right under Jen.  They stayed with us for over half an hour, zigging and zagging, clicking and squeaking as they swam.  The day progressed and the good weather continued.  “How great it would be to have this for the rest of the voyage,” we remarked to each other.  That evening, based on our average speed thus far, we figured we were about half way to our destination and toasted the milestone over a dinner of creole shrimp over quinoa.

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We were premature in celebrating our luck, however.  That night the clouds returned and by morning we were again sailing on a close reach.  The wind had become cooler again we thought, “oh well, at least we had one perfect day.  Things could always be worse.”  And so we count our blessings that, so far, though this isn’t the tropical cruise we had hoped it would be, we are still finding fair winds and following seas.

Aloha.

Ocean spaces can inhibit contact, just as mountain ranges can on land, but they become highways rather than barriers when marine technology, especially navigation, becomes effective.

David Lewis – from We, the Navigators

It’s Monday and there’s not much going on aboard KAINANI today.  Right now Keao and Jen are taking naps, Chip is up in the cockpit weaving another fish or bird out of coconut leaves while also keeping an eye on where we’re heading, and I’m down in the salon doing this blog thing.  We don’t even have any fishing lines out today.

Yesterday, one day after eating the last of our first Mahi, we caught another one.  It was a female and bigger than the last, probably about 24 lbs.  Guess what we had for dinner?  Mmmm, Mahi.  Keao and Chip cut up about ten good sized filets off of this one so we will probably hold off on fishing for the next few days or so, at least until we have more room in the freezer.  I wonder, will we tire of fresh fish on this voyage?

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As it stands, we have traveled about 1700 miles (as the booby bird flies) from Panama.  According to the GPS, we have another 1500 or so to go before we make a right turn and head northwest for Hawaii.  We have been making good speed and the South Equatorial Current we came all the way south for has been giving us a little boost.  All going well, we may only have about 20 days left.

So, what do we do with all of our time out here, you might ask.  The short answer is, “not much.”  The slightly longer version is this:  After standing watches all night, everyone usually sleeps in until around 0800, with the exception of me as I stand the 0500 to 0800 watch so I’m already awake.  I try to heat up some hot water for coffee around 0700 and then we all forage for breakfast at our own paces.  Sometimes one of us will make breakfast for everyone, but that’s not a regular thing.  Then we all find a dry spot in the cockpit and talk about the weather, the boat, how our watches went the night before, stuff like that.  Keao is a morning person and usually wakes up with all cylinders firing so, after his bowl of Coco Puffs, he usually takes off on some project or starts messing with the sail trim.

Eventually, everyone settles into a groove, finds a comfy spot to sit, and curls up with whatever book they are reading or listening to on their phone.  I’ve already read five books and listened to four audio books.  At this rate of consumption, I’m going to run out of books before we reach Hawaii… but I digress.  Come lunchtime, it’s usually Jen who starts asking everyone what they want to eat.  “Whatever,” is the usual reply.  After lunch is more of what happened after breakfast but with naps being taken by some, if not all of the crew.

I don’t know many people who don’t wake up hungry from a nap so dinner tends to be the next topic of conversation on board in the afternoon.  We eat very well on board KAINANI (thank you Jen for your pre-planning in this area).  When we are not grilling fresh fish, we are usually having someone’s favorite dish that they cook at home or one of Jen’s pre-made freezer packs that she and I prepared in Panama before departure.  After two weeks at sea, I don’t think we’ve had the same meal twice.  Though, come to think of it, rice is a constant theme with 90 percent of them.

After dinner everyone brushes their teeth and gets ready for bed except for me.  My watch begins while dinner is being cooked and consumed, and doesn’t end until 2000, after the sun sets in the west.  That’s when Jen comes up on deck with her hot tea and relieves me.  She stands a three hour watch and is relieved by Keao, who stands his three hour watch before being relieved by Chip.  I relieve Chip the next morning at 0500 and the cycle begins anew.

Anyway, once everyone starts waking up from their naps here soon, the “what’s for dinner?” conversation will begin.  So, the question right now is how should we cook our Mahi today?

Aloha!

He saw it first when it jumped in the air, true gold in the last of the sun and bending and flapping wildly in the air.

Ernest Hemingway – from The Old Man and the Sea

We are well past the Galapagos now, heading west at just above 3˚ LAT.  The Southern Equatorial Current is starting to increase and the wind has shifted more to the SSE.  Every day we have been increasing our miles and yesterday was our best so far.  In a 24 hour period from 0700 on the 8^th to 0700 yesterday, the 9^th, we traveled 183 NM.  That’s an average of over 7.6 kts or, to the landlubber, a little over 9 mph.  The winds have freshened today so we are hoping to see our first 200 NM day (the first of many, hopefully).

Yes, life aboard KAINANI seems to be improving just a little each day.  We celebrated Jen’s birthday the other day.  It was too rough to make pancakes for her that morning but the next morning the seas had calmed enough that I could safely navigate the galley without making a mess and/or causing minor injury to myself or others.  Now that we are heading west and not into the wind, the motion of the boat has become more tolerable.  We are also getting closer to Hawaii now that we are headed in the right direction (west vs. southwest).  Yesterday was an especially good day.  Keao did a quick evaluation of our water usage and determined that we were well below our quota.  He said we could all take fresh water showers (navy showers, that is) if we wanted.  Yes, we wanted.

To top it off, yesterday we caught our first fish after almost four days of getting skunked.  Chip had just started chopping veggies for dinner and I was getting ready to take a shower when Jen, who was relaxing on deck in the afternoon sun, heard the snap as one of the hand lines came off its clip.  “I think we have a fish,” she said calmly.  Keao and Chip jumped into action and in no time the beautiful 18 lb Mahi Mahi was flopping around on deck, making a bloody mess.  The two quickly went to work on the fish and, by the time I had come up from my shower, Keao and Chip had started cutting and skinning off five huge fillets.  The eggplant we had planned to grill that night was, happily, replaced with fresh Mahi.

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Today, for lunch, we made ceviche and tonight we will have fish tacos.  Like I said, life on board KAINANI just keeps getting better every day.

Aloha

There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.

Robert Luis Stevenson

It is Sunday, August 4^th and we are currently about 230 nautical miles (NM) northeast of the Galapagos Islands.  I know, I know, that seems like it’s the wrong direction to go if you are trying to get to Hawaii from Panama.  But, though Hawaii is our final destination, that’s not where we are trying to get to at this moment.  For the past six days we have been trying to head southwest to reach the South Equatorial Current which runs east to west at about 2˚ of latitude.  Just north of that runs the Equatorial Counter Current.  That runs in the opposite direction, west to east, so it’s important to stay clear of that.  Today, after beating against a southwesterly wind for the past few days, we reached 3˚ LAT and cracked off to a more westerly course.

Under reefed main and full headsail, we are trucking right along at about 7 knots (that’s roughly 8 mph).  Since leaving Panama, I have been mildly impressed with the speed this boat has been able to make, even going up-wind.  Her flat hull shape does give her a herky-jerky motion and tends to pound in the rough seas every-once-in-a-while, but she has her moments; when the wind shifts and we are allowed to ease off to a close reach, and she sails like a dream.

Speaking of leaving Panama, we had a great departure and first day’s sail from Balboa Yacht Club.  On Tuesday morning, July 30^th, we woke up and quickly finished the final preparations we had to do to get the boat ready for sea.  The final task was to top off our fuel and water, which we planned to do at Flamenco Marina.  Unfortunately, the marina could only accommodate us at high-tide, around 2 pm.  Keao was not happy about waiting and, after about two minutes of pondering, decided that he would rather take his chances filling up at the commercial dock than wait for the tide.  So, that’s what we did.

The rusty floating dock at the end of the long pier jutting out from the Balboa Yacht Club did not look inviting, especially with the wake from the launch boats jetting in and out.  But, with all the fenders out on the starboard side we bravely came alongside and tied bow and stern, much to the chagrin of the captain of the motor yacht who was hoping to sneak in before us.  It didn’t take us long to top off everything though, and in less than an hour we were underway from Panama for good.

The breeze that had been cooling us off for the past few days shut off completely so we motored our way along the ship channel and then turned southwest across the Gulf of Panama.  The winds picked up out of the north in the afternoon and we were treated to a show by a mother humpback whale and her calf, who was happily breaching into the air over and over again.  At night we were visited by dolphins, which swam alongside and played in the bow wave.  They jetted back and forth, leaving a glowing trail of bioluminescence in their wake.

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We have seen dolphins almost every other day since we left Panama.  We have also seen numerous birds, from small birds to large Iwa birds (also called Frigate birds) which, to me, look like dragons when they float high in the sky.  Mostly, though, we see a lot of boobies.  Blue footed, red footed, brown feathered or white feathered, every day the booby birds come by and eye us up.  We wouldn’t mind so much except for the fact that, where there are seabirds, there is bird poop.  Let’s just say that our nice white sails are not so white anymore.

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Anyway, once we get down to that South Equatorial Current we will turn west.  Our goal, at that point, will be to stay on that heading until we reach a rum-line between the Marquesas and Hawaii.  If the wind holds and backs around to the southeast, as predicted, we should be at that point in a little over two weeks.  Fingers crossed.

Buen camino!

Well here you are, there it is, THIS is what it’s all about.

Kurt Vonnegut

Life doesn’t get much better than this. One of the greatest feelings in the world is to travel a great distance across an ocean and make landfall at your destination. It has been 34 days since we left Panama and we are now in Lahaina, Maui, HI, USA.

After over 5,000 nautical miles there is a lot to share. I kept up with the blog posts but, without internet, I had no way to post them. Instead, I saved them and will be putting them up here shortly. Get ready, because it’s going to be a big data dump.

But first, it’s time to get some sleep. We had a long night last night, crossing the channel from the Big Island to Maui and pulling into the anchorage at 0300. Today we took care of some chores ashore (laundry) and met Keao’s family. Right now it is just after 2300 (11 pm) and Jen and I have just returned back to the boat (which is now at the dock in the marina) after a huge party that Keao’s family and friends threw for us. It was an unexpected welcome that warmed both of our hearts. Now we are very, very sleepy.

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Anyway, tomorrow I should have more time to put up the posts from the voyage. If not tomorrow, then after tomorrow.

Aloha!

Any man can call time out, but no man can say how long the time out will be.”

Kurt Vonnegut

Well, we made it.  I am currently writing to you from the Balboa Yacht Club on the Pacific side of the Panama Canal.  We finished our transit through the Canal on Friday, four days ago, and have been running around like chickens with our heads cut off ever since.  This is the first time we have had any spare time to take care of things other than boat prep and provisioning for the crossing to Hawaii.

I was hoping to have more time these past few days.  More time to explore Panama, more time to prepare for our upcoming journey, and more time to post about everything that has happened.  This past week has flown by and now we are almost ready to leave.  Today Roger, our agent, took us to check out with Customs and Immigration.  Tomorrow at noon we will head over to Flamenco Marina to top off the fuel and water tanks.  After that, we set sail and head west.

So much has happened this past week and I’d love to go into more details on everything.  Unfortunately, I just don’t have the time to write such a long blog.  For now, here’s the Cliff Notes version:  We put KAINANI in the water a week ago and sailed her to Shelter Bay Marina, close to the northern end of the Panama Canal.  It was a beautiful four hour sail around rocky, palm swept islands and through the big ship anchorage off of Cristobal.  We spent three days at the dock in Shelter Bay (formerly Fort Sherman) preparing and waiting for our scheduled time to transit the Canal.  On Thursday we headed out to the flats and met Julio, our advisor from the Panama Canal Authority who guided us through the first set of locks up to Gatun Lake.  We spent the night in the lake and greeted our second advisor, Roger, early in the morning.  He guided us the rest of the way across the lake and through the last two sets of locks to the Pacific.  We grabbed a mooring ball at Balboa Yacht Club Friday evening and have spent every day since running between grocery stores, hardware stores, etc., etc.

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Yesterday we received a bit of good news.  We had been planning on sailing with just Keao (the Captain/owner), Jen, and myself.  Chip, Keao’s father in law, had done the Canal transit with us and stayed on to help prep the boat. His original intention was to see us off at the dock and then go exploring Central America on his own for a while.  Apparently, Chip has an adventurous heart and expressed over drinks the other night how much he wished he could join us.  Water consumption was always going to be an issue with just the three of us, which is why Keao had originally only wanted three people.  But, we put our heads together and decided that, if we didn’t take Chip along, we would regret it the whole way across.  “I wish Chip were here,” would have become the theme song to our voyage.  We couldn’t have that.  The invitation was extended and, after a few days of weighing the pros and cons, Chip accepted.  Yay, now we only have to stand three hour watches instead of four…  Thanks Chip!

Starting tomorrow we will be out to sea and away from any type of internet connection for the next 35 to 45 days.  So, this is goodbye for now, I suppose.  We have a satellite phone for emergency connections but I’m not sure if it will allow for me to update the blog.  That’s not to say I won’t write.  I plan on writing as much as possible in order to help pass the time.  This will just be a short pause.  Once we get back to shore I will do one huge dump of blog posts.  Until then, buen camino my friends.  Think good thoughts for us of fair winds and following seas.

I always get to where I’m going by walking away from where I’ve been.

Winnie the Pooh

And now for something completely different.  What could be about as far away from walking the Camino de Santiago (besides sitting in an office cubicle at a mind-numbing job)?  Sailing a 45-foot sailboat from Panama to Hawaii, that’s what.  So, of course, that is what Jen and I are doing right now.  We have been here for three days, sitting “on the hard” in Porto Linton Marina, located on the north coast of Panama along the Caribbean Sea.

It’s Sunday.  That means the boat yard doesn’t work today so we have to wait until tomorrow to splash KAINANI, a Beneteau Oceanis 45 sailboat that Jen and I are helping to deliver from Panama to Hawaii.  We arrived in Panama City Friday evening and met KAINANI’s owner, Keao, at the airport.  He was joined by his father-in-law, Chip, who is tagging along as a line-handler for our trip through the Panama Canal.  But first, we had to get Jen’s bag which, for some reason, didn’t make it onto our flight.

Fortunately, Copa Airlines has regular flights between Orlando and Panama City.  The airline confirmed her bag was on the next flight which would land in about an hour and a half.  They offered to ship the bag to where we were staying but, since we didn’t know the exact address of the marina, we decided it would be best just to wait around at the airport.  So, only minutes after meeting Keao and Chip, we bid them farewell.  Roger, the Canal Agent Keao had hired, met all of us in the arrivals area and sped them off to the boat while Jen and I waited for her bag.

Our decision to wait turned out to be the right one.  After our two hour Uber ride from Panama City, north across the isthmus to Porto Linton, we realize that, had we left it to the airline to deliver the bag, their delivery driver would have given up half way and thrown her bag into the jungle.  Seriously, that was one of the most adventurous Uber rides we have ever taken.  Even the driver, sweet little Merriellen, admitted that she had never been as far away from the city as we were going.  She navigated the winding roads with ease but started to get visibly anxious as darkness fell.  When she quietly started mumbling, “Dios mio,” to herself, I leaned over and noticed that she was getting low on fuel.

As we drove deeper into the jungle the villages became smaller and further apart.  It became clear that, after dropping us off, she did not have enough gas to get back to the closest open gas station, let alone all the way back to Panama City.  Though Jen and I felt bad for her, we stopped short of feeling any sort of responsibility for the predicament she had gotten herself into.  The sun had completely set and it was pitch black when we finally arrived at the marina.  Once there, we passed her off to the marina security guards (who could do more to help her than we ever could), grabbed our bags out of the trunk, and walked through the dirt yard to our new home.

Keao and Chip were already settled in and waiting for us when we arrived.  Being “on the hard” means that the boat is out of the water with the keel resting on blocks and the hull supported by jack-stands.  We tossed our bags up on deck then climbed eight feet up the ladder to behold what would be our entire world for the next 35 to 45 days, perhaps longer depending on how long it takes us to get through the Canal.

KAINANI is 45 feet long and just shy of 15 feet wide.  She has three cabins, one forward and two aft, and two heads (a.k.a. bathrooms), one forward and one aft.  We stowed our bags in the aft starboard cabin and got relatively situated before heading back up on deck where Keao and Chip were enjoying cocktails in the spacious cockpit.

We all shared brief summaries of our lives in an effort to get to know each other.  Keao wanted to be able to tell his wife back home that this married couple (that’s Jen and I) that he found on the internet to help him cross the Pacific were not crazy psychopaths intent on murdering him and stealing his boat.  I think we did a pretty good job convincing him that we were a safe choice… for now (muahahaha!).  We went over our ideal plan for getting the boat back in the water and through the Canal, and then went over what type of variables might upset that plan.  A few hours later the exhaustion that comes with travel caught up with us and we said our good nights.

Here’s the thing though, this is Panama.  It’s hot.  It’s humid.  As beautiful and spacious as KAINANI is, she does not have air-conditioning.  Though, even if she did, we would not be able to run it while out of the water.  But she doesn’t and that means sleeping down below, even with the hatches open, is extremely warm and uncomfortable.  On deck there’s at least a little breeze to help keep things bearable but that has its trade-offs as well, mainly in the form of mosquitos.  If you choose to sleep on deck you may get lucky for a little while and the breeze will keep them at bay, but the wind in this little marina is typically light and variable.  Then there’s the rain that could spring up at any time during the night, forcing you to seek shelter below in the cabin.  And don’t think you are free from mosquitos there either.  This is Panama, they’re everywhere, especially when you are at a marina that is only a hundred yards from the jungle.

Long story short, Jen and I are pretty much covered head to toe with bites.  It sucks (no pun intended) but what should we do, whine about it?  Everyone here is covered with mosquito bites so sympathy would be hard to find.  Instead, we do our best to ignore them.  Besides, there’s too much work to be done.

Yesterday we spent most of the day cleaning the inside of the boat and working on small projects like replacing the port bow light and installing a new stereo.  Today Jen and I did some more cleaning and took an inventory of the food already on board.  We also spent time playing cards and, until this evening, enjoying every meal at the Blue House (which is more of a shack) located under the palm trees just behind where the boat is parked.  Tonight was our first meal on board as Nancy and Louis, the owners of the Blue House, take Sunday evenings off.

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Tomorrow we will drop off our laundry and then check in with the Marina office.  Fingers crossed that they will finally be able to put KAINANI back in the water where she belongs.

Buen Camino!