All duties summarily done we climbed into our cabin sanctuary to pass the night in floating tranquility.
Thursday morning we rose later than usual, about 9 am and had breakfast. We'd been mildly put off by the head bartender the night before. Felix seemed to have a problem with us: he'd been ignoring us all evening and only by loudly shouting could we get his attention. Then he'd gladly serve us. We were VERY glad we hadn't been mean to him when we discovered that the reason for his reticence was that he was almost deaf. His apparently surly manner, crisply counting change and abruptly setting down drinks and food, was in fact the extreme pride he had in his function as head of the Yacht Club eating and drinking facilities. He smiled broadly when we yelled, "Hola, Felix!!! Benos Dias!!!!" "Bien," he quietly replied, "no Panamas, amigos. You drank all the cold ones last night." "That's ok!!!! Cuero breakfast!!! Es possible?!?" "Ci!" We were handed menus and enjoyed the arctic blasting of the air conditioner while we consumed our early repast.
I took Brian and Eric over to the Alice-D to meet Jan and Patrick and retrieve the tires. We were treated to a tour of the beautiful old girl, noting the wood burning fireplace and working bathtub, the two cats and the skylights. Jan was concerned about his trek from Colon to Cuba, having nothing but his charts to get there on. Brian brought over a guide we'd used on the way in and let Jan have a look. The captain's eyes lit up, "it has sailing directions!" he gushed. "You know," Brian offered, "we don't need it anymore. Why don't you keep it?" Jan was beside himself. He thanked us at least ten times for it over the next several days. What are friends for, after all?
Joseph required some searching out, but with the assistance of three cab drivers and their cell phones he arrived just after 1:00pm. A dark skinned, wiry fellow with a quick smile and quicker reflexes behind the wheel, he had me in and out of the ACP offices within half an hour. We'd be admeasured Friday afternoon and if all went as desired get our appointment that evening. While I was away Eric was schmoozing the crew of another vessel, French Captain, in need of a 4th line handler. He signed on and was scheduled for a Canal run the next day. I made the pleasant acquaintance of a girl named Erin, a member of the crew hoping her passage aboard would last until the Galapagos Islands. "The captain's an ass," she told me confidentially, "he treats me like I don't exist, won't give me anything to do, and won't let anyone use the head." I sympathized, wishing I had a bigger boat and was headed for the Galapagos�. She accompanied me as I perused the native craftwork for sail along the wall of the outer wall of the bar. The Kuna Indians have a famous reputation for their embroidery and weaving skills. Several women and a few of their children would set up shop at the Yacht Club each morning and ply their wares at good prices. I bought some gifts (won't say for whom�.(wink)) and parted with my compatriot for the moment in expectation of finding Chino and hopefully trading the natty Canal lines for the real deal. Our concierge was nowhere to be found that afternoon, so I returned to the Faith to inspect her for the thousandth time and finding all in order sought out Rick and his crew. He told me the story of being hailed by another boat, near Costa Rica I believe, which had asked in very concerned tones whether their cannon was pointed at them. "Cannon?" Rick's people had asked, "what cannon?" "There on the bow," pointed out the trembling voice over the radio, "is it pointing at us??" "Oh!" said Rick's boat, "you mean the crane?" "That's a crane?" came the relieved reply. Rick said he intended to paint a barrel and some sort of trigger mechanism on the crane. I suggested he steer clear of any Nicaraguan naval ships if he did. We laughed.
Friday morning the three of us climbed onto deck and cleared away the shoes, drying clothes, pots and pans, range, and other supercilious materials in expectation of the Admeasurers' arrival. Eric walked over to the French boat to harangue the crew and make the final arrangements for taking off. He hoped to return the next day, we all hoped in time to transit with the Faith. It would be a great boon to have had a crew member already familiar with the crossing. And a greater one if said crew member could manage to be on board when we did it� Eric had found that he could take a bus from Balboa, on the other side, back to Colon as soon as he could hit land.
The Admeasurers arrived right on time (the officials decidedly DO NOT work on island time). They whipped out a tape measure, took down the length and breadth, and invited me to the restaurant with my paperwork to fill out the forms. Engine size and speed, draw (how far the keel sticks down), confirmation of a working head and meals to be provided for the Advisor, number of gallons of fuel and the range that would provide, fenders, bivy, and finally disclaimer for me to sign stating that I understood that the boat was deficient in size and nature of chocks and cleats, and that any damage incurred was solely my problem. Hurray! No changing of chocks! They gave me a number to call � after six pm � from whence I would learn the transit time. They also gave me the radio call card with the Faith's lifetime number. If ever she passes back through that number will be hers. Ahhh!!! I gave the cabbie area a quick perusal to see if I could trade out the lines but it had been raining so the place was as desolate as a firing range on a busy day. Oh well. At least now Brian and I could head into town to the Citibank to pay the Canal fees. We stood out at the entrance to the Yacht Club until a cab rolled up and were transported to the bank. Jan had offered us some useful advice: "They say they'll take credit cards," he told us, "but then they tell you 'Declined!' because the way they do it is to draw on the cash allowance. It's always too much." Ahha! When they refused our cards we were ready�well, more or less. At least we knew the game. We raced back to PCYC, gathered all of our cash, hit an ATM on the way back for more, and presented the teller with our fees. She looked a little taken aback that we'd returned so quickly but we had a receipt in our hands when we triumphantly strode back to the boat to stow it with the library of documents we were accumulating.