Cruise Day 18
After two very full days, we are enjoying a day at sea, so there is time to catch up with e-mail, and posting pictures. By the time you get this, our pictures at http://longworth_mueller.fototime.com/ should be caught up. (2008 Note: They are certainly caught up now!)
Sunday was spent transiting (is that a word?) the Panama Canal from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean, or south to north, in the rather confusing geography of Central America. We arrived at the holding area just before 7 a.m., and because cruise ships pay a premium to transit the Canal, proceeded more or less directly to the Canal entrance, with Panama City off to the south. It was a rainy morning all around us, although it never actually rained on our ship, so the view of the waiting ships was through mist, with the occasional rainbow thrown in.
We were told that payment formalities are handled before ships enter the Canal, and cost is based on weight, as established from the ship's load calibrations painted on the hull. Payment arrangements have to be in place 48 hours before, and a ship is not allowed to proceed until payment confirmation has been made, these days usually electronically. No cheques or credit cards are accepted, only cash or electronic cash on the barrel. When you think about it, that is the only way that makes sense, since Panama would have no way to enforce payment once a ship has left its territory. Incidentally, the estimated fee for Zuiderdam on this transit was US$250,000! That seems outrageous, until you see the work and equipment involved, and the ongoing maintenance and improvement of the canal.
It takes 3 pilots to take a ship this size through the canal, two on the bridge, who relieve each other periodically, plus one at the stern. Unlike ports, where the pilot comes on to guide the ship's captain and advises on navigation, the canal pilot is in full command of the ship while in the canal, and the ship's Master is just along for the ride. Most ships, even those as maneuverable as Zuiderdam, have two tugs in attendance at all times, just in case, because the consequences of an 82,000 ton ship even nudging a lock gate at say one inch per minute velocity would be catastrophic, and shut down one set of locks until repairs could be made.
The transit through the locks is not under the ship's power, that would be too risky, instead, each ship has a number of diesel-electric locomotive "mules" that each attach two steel cables to the ship, each cable controllable by the mule driver for tension and the position of the mule relative to the ship is also variable. Thus not only can the mules move the ship forward, but can position it side to side in the locks. Each mule, in the currently used version, costs about 1.5 million US dollars, and a ship the size of Zuiderdam requires eight mules, two each side at the bow, and two each side at the stern. The drivers of the mules are in radio communication, and also have a back-up bell system, with which they signal each other.
Watching these mules do their job is like watching an elaborately choreographed ballet, except each dancer weighs perhaps 100 tons, and is pulling around its share of 82,000 tons. Very sophisticated, and yet, except for changes to the motive power of the mules, and the new communcations systems, not different from the original technology, which dates back to 1914!
All the locks are as originally built, the gates are the original ones, and the energy to make the gates and locks work is still only the force of gravity, which for one ships transit moves close to 100 million gallons of fresh water from the level of Lake Gatun, about 82 feet above sea level, to the Pacific and to the Caribbean. Fresh water which then has to fall as rain over a huge area of Central America, run through many rivers into a system of storage lakes, and then into Lake Gatun.
On the Pacific side, after passing through the Bridge of the Americas, one approaches the Miraflores Locks, a two-stage lock, each stage raising a ship about 23 - 24 feet. There is then a short run through Lake Miraflores and under the Panama Centennial Bridge, which now carries that Pan-American Highway over the Canal, relieving the Bridge of the Americas somewhat, to the single stage Pedro Miguel Lock, which lifts the ship the remaining distance to Lake Gatun level. Shortly after, one sails through the continental divide. It is in this area that there is a constant danger of rock slides, because the volcanic rock is quite fragile and unstable, and where there is constant work cutting back the banks to stabilize the slopes. (The canal has been shut down only three times in its history, and only once because of a land slide, a tribute to the engineering and constant maintenance.)
About an hour past Pedro Miguel is the town of Gamboa, which is the centre of the canal maintenance system, with huge dredging cranes and machinery moored, ready to be used when traffic is light at night, since most of it would not allow ships to pass. Gamboa is also a centre for fishing and tourism in Lake Gatun. Ships take about 2 hours to traverse Lake Gatun to the Gatun locks. The lake is scenically very beautiful, with many little islands, covered in jungle, and one can occupy the time watching the varied shipping passing in the opposite directions.
The Gatun locks are a three stage pair of locks, and, as are the Pacific locks, capable of operating in both directions, as traffic dictates. Here ships are lowered in three locks down to the Caribbean, and again, the motive power are locomotive mules, doing their ballet in reverse. It takes about 2 1/2 hours to go through the locks, and then there is a short channel that takes ships out past a breakwater into the Caribbean. Shortly before reaching the ocean one can look back and see the end of the aborted French attempt to build a sea-level canal, one without locks, that ended in bankruptcy of the building consortium after close to 25,000 men had died, mostly of yellow fever, malaria, and accidents. The American construction of the present canal cost another 5000 lives, and that construction was made possible by the discovery that it was mosquitos that transmitted yellow fever and malaria, not "night vapours" as the French had stubbornly insisted, while continuing to sacrifice workers to the "glory" and honour of France. The key was a mosquito eratication program, involving eliminating standing pools of water, and isolating the sick from being bitten by mosquitos, to prevent re-transmission. Today sanitation is still taken very seriously, and the canal zone has negligible risk of yellow fever or malaria transmission, and is rated as one of the healthiest places on earth.
After leaving the Canal, an overnight sail brought us to Cartagena, Colombia, arriving at the pier about 9:30. Although one can see the modern city's high rise buildings a long way out at sea, the entrance to the harbour is through a very narrow channel, with then a 9 mile sail to the docks area. A perfect natural harbour, which is why the Spanish picked it as their New World treasure depot, and why the French, the British, and the Dutch spent a lot of effort trying to sack it. The English, notoriously Sir Francis Drake, who was more of a pirate than English history records, did in fact capture the city, but failed to find the well-hidden treasure. Thus colonial Cartagena is a collection of outlying forts, and thick, up to 50 feet in places, city walls. The inside is indistinguishable architecturally from its namesake, Cartagena, Spain, as the colonials tried to reproduce their familiar homeland. Today Cartagena is a perfectly maintained and/or restored Spanish colonial city, although the modern city is as modern as anything in the Americas.
We had booked a tour called Scenes of Cartagena, which from its description promised a good oversight of colonial and modern Cartagena, with stops at significant points with the ability to then walk around. Unfortunately, it should have been billed as Shopping Scenes of Cartagena. (General warning to cruisers: tours sold by cruise ship companies are sources of revenue, and the most revenue comes from commissions on sales in the stores the tour "guides lead you to - There is a good reason why tour patrons are given colour-coded tags, and it is not to make sure you get back on the right bus!) One of the advertised visits to one of the colonial fortresses never happened, because, as our guide said, it would have taken too long, Another stop to a former prison forgot to mention that it had been turned into an artisan shopping arcade, with very aggressive pedlars and women in supposed native costume who practically forced you to take pictures of them, and then wanted US$ 1. I took a long, scenic shot, which happened to include one of them in the distance, and she had the nerve to actually demand money from me (which she might have got had she been more pleasant).
We did get a chance to walk around a bit of colonial Cartagena, but did not have time to visit the Cathedral, which is a notable landmark. We did visit the Nautical Museum, where we got to see a model of the fortress we didn't get to visit; not quite as good as the real thing.
Also at this museum, we had some folk dancers, energetic but un-narrated, hence it was difficult to know what we were seeing, and Columbian beer, which I thought was quite good, and beer doesn't need narration. The ever-present peddlers were even more persistent here (and the price varied considerably depending on the time to the departure of the bus - the $5 genuine, guaranteed 100% silver necklaces [I guess you buy it, and it is 100% yours] went to 3 for $10, or 5 for $20, depending on which guy you were near to).
A new feature for Columbia here, although we'd seen them before in Costa Rica, were women dressed in nurses' uniforms, collecting money. If you asked was it for health care, they didn't exactly say yes or no. In Puntarenas, we'd given them money; this time I read the fine print on their uniforms, and collecting containers - the English was not all that clear, but the Spanish was quite certain - they were collecting for an American "evangelical" organisation, in Central America, to "save" the people from their eternal fate. Since the people being "saved" are mostly devout Roman Catholics, I thought I'd be wasting my money. One of these hustlers was actually quite unperceptive, she approached me at least five times in as many minutes, and I was the only tourist wearing an Australian leather bush hat! As I continued to say "no thanks", she continued to smile sweetly!
The next stop was blatantly shopping, at a modern shopping centre, with nothing but English-speaking shops selling either emeralds, or native artifacts (reproductions, but you had to read the fine print for that). Our "guide" - maybe sales representative would be a better term - recommended some of them highly, because the owners were (supposedly) American - I guess that would matter to the mostly Americans on this tour. We decided to give it a pass, and after walking the gauntlet of people trying to entice us into their shop - even the armed security guards outside the gold and emerald shops were in on that act - we walked a few yards down the street to a lovely beach, full of Colombians having a wonderful time celebrating their national holiday, which apparently actually was October 12, the previous Friday, but, by Columbian law, all major holidays have to be transferred to a Monday, but if they fall on a Friday they are also celebrated on the Friday - i.e. by law, some holidays create 4-day weekends. Ahhhhhhhhh, Latin America! Anyways, the beach was full of families, sheltering in little cloth cabanas, maybe 4 ft by 3 ft, which one could rent (by the minute, for 100 Columbian pesos - 2300 Columbian pesos are roughly 1 US$) Allowing for some wiggle room, based on the tourist exchange rate versus the real exchange rate, maybe a buck for 30 minutes. Maybe the Colombians are more used to it, but me the gringo would have cheerfully paid the price to get out of the very blazing sun, and we did note that not too many of the cabanas were empty. Anyways, the beach was lovely, it was not full of tourists, there were no peddlers, and the view was great.
Back to the shopping centre, to find an air-conditioned washroom (the only advantage to the place). By then the costumed women had arrived (we think they were the same pair from before) to hustle more photographs. And peddlers of various goods were everywhere. Beating our way to the bus, to get cool, we only had to ingnore them trying to sell us stuff by sign language, through the window. Then back to ship, with a not bad drive-tour of the city - we just wish we'd had that instead and more of - for lunch, and getting cool. Despite all the whining, we really liked Cartagena, and would like to see more of it. Except next time, we'd probably hire a taxi (for what we paid for the bus "tour" we could have got 8 hours, we have discovered since), and promise the driver a really good tip, which would decrease by $1 every time he took us someplace and someone would try to sell us something!
Later that afternoon, we had a really fine Cartagena folklorico show, on the ship. A group of musicians, mostly drummers, plus an instrumentalist (clarinet and a local instrument like a large bamboo flute), with a group of dancers that gave us a good introduction to local dance - native, with Spanish influences. Again, like all of these local groups that we have seen, they were enthusiastic, energetic, and genuine. Then, later, much later (11:30 p.m.), we had the Indonesian Crew show; same comments. Eager to show off the art of their country, they put on a wonderfully genuine show. (Although, the M/C was our table steward, who should definitely keep his day job, and not seek a career in stand-up comedy; but to be fair, even the corny jokes were told with genuine enthusiasm.) New/old in this show was an orchestra playing instruments called "angklung" from West Java; these were frames on which were hung various-sized bamboo tubes, which when shaken made pitched notes; when played by about 35 persons, directed by a conductor, we'd call it a hand-bell choir! Odd sound, but with perfectly recognizable tunes - the hit with the mostly American audience was "God Bless America."
And so to bed, and today to relax. I had earlier tried to upload pictures, but the high-priced satellite system was down, to the frustration of a large number of guests who had paid much money to have this service, The alleged manager of the system was nowhere to be found. So I came back to the cabin to write this, and I will try later to send it. If you are reading this, I succeeded.
Tomorrow, Ocho Rios, Jamaica, where we are scheduled to see the Enchanted Gardens and Dunn's River Falls. Then another day at sea, and then Half Moon Cay, Holland America's private island in the Bahamas. Then overnight to Ft. Lauderdale, disembarkation, a transfer to Miami airport, and, God willing, a flight home on Saturday. There may be time for yet one last of the missives, or it may have to wait until we are home. Keep checking your e-mail.
Greeting to you all,
Gerry and June
On Board M/S Zuiderdam
Somewhere between South America and Jamaica
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