Texture like sun.
As the sun was setting, we were happily cruising up the Panamanian Pacific coast when all of a sudden our bow pointed straight in the direction of the jungle, apparently ready to beach again. That was not the plan.
My Captain quickly took the helm only to confirm that the autopilot was no longer responding. Was it the hydraulic pump? Had the compass lost its heading ? Was something wrong with the electronics? Or was it the software ? It was the software.
The message on the Garmin screen read “autopilot rudder sensor is not calibrated”. So in 2 hour shifts we manually took hold of the ship and steered O2 safely through the night.
The next morning, My Captain went several times through the “Wizard” menu of recalibrating. And at the end of the process we each time received the cool message: “Rudder calibration failed. Try again” Which we kept doing. One of the messages even read “Bring the boat to cruising speed with the engines at a constant RPM. The autopilot will drive the boat in 15 zig-zag cycles.” The boat did 15 “zigs” but no “zags”. A good thing we were experimenting with the “Wizard” menu while having plenty of open space all around us.
It took us 200 nautical miles to get it fixed and we still have no idea what had happened in the first place and how we set it right. So each time that we now engage the autopilot, we keep a suspicious eye on the helm to ascertain that it is actually “engaged” and that we will not zig-zag on the rocks or in the woods. And there is plenty of that around.
We were very grateful that those 200 nautical miles at the helm were along a magnificent coast dotted with magnificent islands and mangroves.
Whenever we could , we anchored to dinghy ashore to take in the drone perspective. And to gather the empty seed cases of huge trees . Those cases will provide shelter for the poison dart froggies whose brandnew terrarium is being prepared in Belgium.
At times, we felt less enthusiastic about the “ magnificent “sun. When we bought O2 , we had opted not to add the available sun roof over the cockpit at the helm because we didn’t want to feel claustrophobic and “tented in”. It was all about the freedom of the seas, the wind in our hair and the spray on our faces, you know.
Also, the additional sun shield would break the sleek boat design, according to My Captain the architect. And we can’t have that, now can we !? This time I had fully agreed to choose “form over function”. And anyway, if push came to shove, we could always take control from the inside cockpit below deck in case of too windy, too rainy or too hot conditions out there in the open. All of the above was true, provided the autopilot worked.
At the helm under a burning sun during windless episodes, it sometimes felt like a Flandria excursion on the Schelde during a heatwave. Were it not for the pristine surrounding.
And now we have reached Puerto Armuelles which has been built from scratch by Chiquita Banana starting in the1920’s up to the 1950’s. The houses on stilts – for the North-American executives at the time – are all made out of North American red cedar wood which was shipped down from Oregon. And they are still standing, but Chiquita left in 2003 (over a segregation annex union issue apparently) . The whole neighborhood has a distinct colonial vibe and the 100 year old mango trees are gorgeous. The biggest and best looking houses are now inhabited by gringo retirees (and their barking dogs. )
Puerto Armuelles is also our clearing – out – of – Panama – port before entering Costa Rica. Due to Covid , we had to keep ourselves either submerged in the ocean or hidden in the woods. But the few Panamanians we did encounter – such as aeronaval officers, Marina personnel, fishermen and locals in their isolated villages ashore- have all been most welcoming with friendly hand waves and smiling eyes. Panama has been a very pleasant surprise indeed.
