Back in Colon after our "training transit", helping friends take their yacht through the Panama Canal, we were raring to go with "Do It". Little did we realise the immense difference between transiting on someone else's yacht and your own. We left "Clarabella" feeling like we'd had a fun couple of day's holiday, but we completed our own transit feeling completely exhausted.

We had a few days in Colon to finish off the huge paperchase to set up our own transit, stock up on goodies to feed our own transit crew, and indulge in an intense session of "Desperate Housewives" watching. New friends in the anchorage offered their series 2 DVDs, so for 3 days, we watched an episode with breakfast, one with lunch, one with a pre-dinner drink and one after dinner. Yes, we are that sad!! Now all we need is to befriend someone in the Pacific who has the rest of the series!

On Transit Day, Angus headed for shore at 2pm to collect our line-handlers and pick up the final piece of required paperwork. By 4pm, I had finished sweeping the floor, polishing the stove and cleaning behind the oven (all tasks I feel compelled to do before people come to stay on the boat) and was beginning to get anxious as to Angus' whereabouts. It turned out that all the crew had turned up on time, but the magical piece of paper was still missing. Angus finally decided to forego the paperwork, and bring our 5 extra crew back to "Do It".

There was much excitement as everyone's packs were passed down below, the dinghy was brought on deck and deflated, and the kettle was put on. Only when Angus asked for his notebook from his pack, did it become clear that his pack (containing our passports, wallets, boat papers, canal documents,….) was still back on shore!!! A quick panic all round - our pilot was due to join us in 30 mins, which didn't allow enough time to re-launch the dinghy and recover the pack - always assuming it was still where it had been left…! Our luck was in - a local guy with a fast dinghy approached us with our missing piece of paperwork, and for $20 he was very happy to whisk Angus back to shore to collect his pack. This did nothing to settle our nerves.

Our pilot arrived bang on time, and immediately impressed Angus by demanding to know what type of cookies we had for him to eat. Later on he wanted a radio so he could listen to the coverage of his local basketball team… Add to this the fact that he was a complete chauvinist, and we were very glad that we only had him on board for the 3 hour trip up through the Gatun locks.

Having raised the anchor, we motored off towards the first of the three locks which raise you up 87 feet to Gatun lake. We were scheduled to make the transit with a very small wooden yacht from Turkey, so since "Do It" was bigger, heavier, and more sturdily constructed, we strapped the little Turkish boat alongside us. Throughout the approach to the locks, and all the manoeuvring in the locks, Angus had the challenge of controlling both boats. Despite having half a dozen tyres wedged between the two boats, there were some scary moments when a complete hooligan pilot boat swept past us several times at high speed. His wake caused the two yachts to roll and crash against each other with such force that all you could do was sit back and watch, and hope like hell that no serious damage was caused.

I had goose-bumps as we entered the first of the massive locks. The dark concrete walls rise up over 30 feet above you, and then the massive lock gates close behind you, cutting off your last sight of the Atlantic. It really gives you the sensation that there is no going back. Each lock is about 1100ft long and 110ft wide, but takes less than 10 minutes to fill. Huge holes in the bottom of the lock open to allow the lake water to fill the lock, and the surface of the lock becomes a cauldron of boiling, swirling water. Once the water reaches the top of the lock, the gates in front of you crack open, then swing back and you proceed to the next lock. All very exciting.

We reached the fresh water Gatun Lake around 9pm and moored up to a huge ship's mooring buoy for the night. Thankfully the pilot does not remain on board for the night. We had a great crew with us, who helped prepare dinner, insisted on washing up, and didn't leave any leftovers. After the tensions of the evening, it was lovely to end the day with a bucket shower using the lake's fresh water, whilst watching bats circling the boat, and listening to the howler monkeys in the jungle.

Our pilot for day 2 arrived just after dawn, and we promptly set off for the 30 mile motor across the lake to the down locks. This was the big test for the engine - in theory, yachts must be able to motor at 8 knots. We have never motored at 8 knots - even downhill. In reality, the yacht pilots know most yachts motor at nearer 6 knots, and expect you to maintain that speed for the trip. You certainly don't want to break down in the canal, as the towing fees are extortionate. Angus spent much of the week before the transit pampering the engine. New oil filter, new oil, new alternator belt, new sea water impeller, lots of TLC.

We had a very pleasant morning motoring across Gatun Lake (the flooded area), then through the Gaillard Cut (the channel dug through the hills). By the time I'd served a leisurely breakfast, then elevenses, and we'd all had a good gossip and exchanged various books and magazines, we had arrived at Pedro Miguel lock - the first of the down locks. For the trip down, we had to tie alongside a tourist boat which takes a couple of hundred tourists down through the locks whilst serving them lunch. At least fifty cameras captured every move we made as we came alongside.

I must admit that the gate closing on the Atlantic had more impact on me than the gate opening into the Pacific. Maybe because the Pacific was brown, dirty and cold - not how you imagine it at all!

Shortly after passing under the Bridge of the Americas, boats arrived to take off the pilot, then our crew, and suddenly there was just the two of us again. We were sad as we motored the final few miles down to La Playita anchorage south of Panama City. However, as the saying goes, as one door closes, another opens… We dropped our anchor, found two glasses and popped our bottle of champagne. We had just spilled a little on "Do It"'s stem, when we were hailed by German friends we haven't seen since Trinidad - then our Hungarian friends appeared and finally the skipper of Clarabella motored over…. Suddenly we had a cockpit full of people again.

The week spent at anchor on the Pacific side was a bit grim - the pollution was terrible - look at the colour of the flag after a few days! Every afternoon, the boats were showered with black ash from somewhere - covering the sail covers, rigging and deck. It even got into the anchor locker. Added to this was the all night disco which really "pumped up the volume" at 4am, the tripper boats which ran their generators for at least 23.5 hours a day and a $5 a day dinghy dock fee. I was very happy to move on.

Crossing the Line

We sailed in loose company with four other yachts down to Ecuador - we all left within 36 hours of each other, but had very different trips. The Humboldt current is described as "complex and variable" - we followed almost exactly behind another yacht, but they had a knot of tide with them, whilst we had a knot of tide against us. Very frustrating to have the sea pushing you backwards, especially when the winds are so light that you are only making 2 knots through the water. As expected, the winds died completely around 4 degrees north, the infamous Doldrums, and we had to resort to the engine. In all we motored for 66 hours - more than we normally do in 3 months!

We crossed the equator on 20 March at 04:16am - celebrating with a slice of Xmas cake. We had thought to celebrate the crossing with a beer, but beer at 4am didn't hold much appeal - I must be getting sensible in my old age!!

Our arrival at Bahia de Caraquez later the same day was aided by a local pilot - the entrance to the estuary is via a tortuous, twisting route through shifting sandbanks. It is not good for your nerves to pass between hissing, crashing beakers, with just 1.5m of water below the keel. You just have to put 100% faith in the pilot, and follow his directions - which did safely lead us into the peaceful river anchorage. Bahia is a holiday resort town - very much out of season just now, but promising to hot up for the Easter holidays.

We spent the first couple of days in Ecuador completing the fairly straightforward check in process. Unfortunately, the immigration part of the check in had to be done in Manta - a 3 hour bus ride away. Yep, a town that is about 30 miles down the coast requires 3 hours on 2 different busses to get there. Still, you need never go hungry on a bus in Ecuador - every time the it stops, vendors jump aboard with packets of caramelised nuts, deep fried plantain "empanadas" and small bread rolls made from yucca flour. Angus even discovered several worried looking live chickens packed away in the luggage compartment. I wonder where they were going for their holidays?

Into the Andes

Having enjoyed our "holiday" in Havana, we decided to leave "Do It" secured to a hefty mooring in the river, and head up to Quito, at 2850m above sea level, for another "holiday". We left Bahia in shorts & t-shirts, and arrived in Quito looking like aliens, amongst the locals all bundled up ponchos, felt hats and woolly sweaters.

We took things easy for the first 24 hours, adjusting to the increased altitude. On the first night, we had a hard time catching our breath as we walked up a short flight of stairs to our hotel room.

The highlight of the trip was a train ride south towards Cotopaxi, even though the volcano remained hidden by low clouds all day. The rail system in Ecuador is in terminal decline. The only trains running are tourist trains, of which there are two classes: those used by foreign tourists, and those used by the local day-trippers. The former is jauntily painted, and to provide the experience of riding on the roof (which seems to be the preferred mode of travel), it has two rows of plastic moulded, high backed swivel chairs. We went for the local's train, which had peeling paint, and had a basic luggage-rack on the roof. As gringos, we were at the back of the queue, and were allocated the final two spaces on the roof. These were of course the least desirable "seats", as they were directly on the train roof, without even the luggage-rack to provide something to brace against. The ride was fantastic - our senses being heightened by the adrenaline coursing through our veins as we tried to imitate limpets. The video is here

The clouds remained low for our final two days in Quito, so we didn't make it up the new cable car - which goes up to 4100m. Maybe next time… We traded the cable car for a trip north to a series of museums, all of which claim to be on the equator. The government has built a huge monument on the site where a French scientist determined the position of the equator in the 1850s - but modern GPS now places the equator 240 yards away, outside the walls of the government site. The "modern" equator lies inside an indigenous Indian museum - where they prove the "real" equator's existence by a series of scientific experiments. We saw water spinning down a plug-hole in opposite directions on either side of the line and straight down the plug-hole on the line. Angus muttered something about a hoax, and pointed out that the guy poured the water into the sink in different directions - once a test pilot, always a test pilot….

Our final full day was spent ticking off a few more museums and churches - one church was covered with 7 tons of gold leaf. It was possibly the most OTT church I've ever seen. The final church we visited was the gothic Basillica, which the Lonely Planet promised would provide a hair raising experience. The stonework is sadly crumbling, and several of the gargoyles have fallen off - but those that remain are fantastic. There are no contorted faces, only armadillos, frigate birds, iguanas and peacocks! The climb up through the towers was not something that would be allowed in the UK. I'm amazed you didn't have to sign a liability waiver before climbing the ladders. At the very top of the tower, beyond the clock face and above the bells, it was possible to climb out through the stone-work and sit on a 12 inch wide ledge whilst dangling your feet over the edge. Truly terrifying, but seemingly a favourite spot for local courting couples!!

Another nine hour bus journey returned us to Bahia, where we were delighted to see that "Do It" had not sunk/gone up in smoke/drifted onto the rocks/been stolen. Just a small selection of the worrying thoughts you are subject to when you abandon your yacht for a period of land travel!

We are now watching the weather for a good breeze to take us over to the Galapagos, and on to the Marquesas in French Polynesia. The next leg of our voyage will take us into the "real" Pacific, but our diversion down to Ecuador has whetted my appetite for a little more South American cruising next time around.

New Toys

Where to start…. Christmas has come early for Angus this month. At the beginning of our week in La Playita, he acquired a second-hand Weatherfax, which allows us to receive weather forecasts in the form of synoptic charts, without having to use the laptop. On our final day, Angus bought a second-hand Pactor modem - a gizmo which will allow us to send and receive emails whilst on the boat, via the SSB radio - even whilst in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Being second-hand, both bits of kit were reluctant to work initially, however, both have now succumbed to Angus' technical wiles.

Things that Broke

Inevitably the engine has been under a lot of scrutiny this month - and also under a lot of strain. Our ubiquitous oil leaks seemed to accelerate whilst en route for Ecuador - maybe just a feature of so much continual motoring? One definite result of the long hours of motoring was a dehydrated engine starter battery. I'm not technical, but I'm led to believe that this is "A Bad Thing". The replacement battery is on order, and Angus is plotting ways to improve the engine room ventilation

Culinary Delights

How can you visit Ecuador and not try "Cuy" - roast guinea pig? Easy!!! One thing guaranteed to tip me back to being a vegetarian would be having to eat a family pet. You won't be surprised to know that I also passed on the cow-hoof soup, lemon ants, blood sausage and potato soup and bull penis soup. I did however become addicted to "Ponche", a local drink made from hot milk and eggs - with enough sugar added, it is like drinking a pint of thin custard. Angus would have preferred the soup!!

Next Month

Well, next month should see us part way between the Galapagos and the Marquesas - surrounded by an awful lot of empty ocean, so the next update will be a combined April and May update from French Polynesia - fingers crossed.