Captain's License

Had to go back to town to finish off the requirements for my Captain's license.

It had rained heavily for hours. Twice in the night I walked down the stairs to check on the boat.

The bilge pump had been on for an unknown time, so the boat was not filled with water but the battery had taken a hit. The float switch mounting screw had rusted through a stainless steel plate in a couple of months. Salt water exacts it's toll.

Off to town. Sputter. I just put 12 gallons in yesterday and only went three miles. Drain the water separator, repeat. Surge, choke, die. I couldn't raise anybody on the radio. Ayahh, a severed antenna lead. My replacement phone hadn't come in yet. Nothing to do but throw in anchor and try to keep the bow to the wind and wait for somebody to come by. The sky turned ominous.

Looking in the console I saw water on the top of the battery. What the hell? The battery case was filled with water. Ok, I drained it. Need one with a top or get ride of the case. What next?

I took off my boots and my shirt and jumped in and pulled the boat for a mile against the tide and the wind. Would I ever get her home? Rain. Lightning. Ahh shit, in salt water during a thunderstorm.

Finally when I was near tuckered and a half mile from home I hailed a boat. I needed assistance getting over the rail in what should have been an effortless kick and push. He pulled me to my house.

I summoned the water taxi from next door as it was returning to town. I walked down in the rain. How much for a tow to town? How much do you want to pay? $20 You are going back empty.

Last time you paid $30. Last time I overpaid. Last week I paid somebody else $25 and they came from town to get me. My phone was out, my internet was out. He was here.

Dropped off boat with Frank. Ran into Clay, the guy who built my house. He told me that there was a cleanout in the bottom of the downspout drain. What? I'd never seen one. I'll look more closely.

Back to get captains license. Where do I get my medical certificate? Upstairs. If you don't have one, you just pay $5 and they issue you one. I waited in line for an hour. A woman was hand filling a form that was passed to the next guy who typed it. Computers anybody? It took 6 to 10 minutes per person. I finally got to the front of the line and the woman told me I needed two copies of my passport. I had but one.

Off to pharmacy to get another copy of my passport.

Back to office. Wait in line for an hour. Tales of a boat in possession of the police confiscated from “Wild Bill”, a serial killer, sinking this morning in the rain. Dave's bookstore is flooding. Toro Loco, which serves some of the best meals in town, the only home style restaurant in town is shutting down for good, tired of government corruption. I finally get to the front of the line. The same woman who told me I needed two copies of my passport indicated that she needed only one.

Pay, downstairs. $168. Back up. Get License.

Back to Frank. We agreed that the appropriate action would be to install external tanks. This would be the fastest, cheapest option. It would also allow me to more closely monitor my gas usage on various trips and different cruising speeds. Between fueling it and repairs the boat is by far the biggest expense I have.

I walked back to Ruckel's, the Yamaha dealer in town that doesn't ever seem to have anything in stock that can't be found at a local hardware store. Nope, no tanks in stock. Ahh shit. Walk back to Frank's. Can I borrow a tank? He went of to Zaigon to get one.

Battery cover, gas tanks.

Sombra Robinson a local “deal maker” always has something to sell. From whence it comes may be suspect. He is trying to sell me a new outboard, a new prop. He said he could get me a tank. He returned a couple of minutes later with one, missing a vent screw. What good is this? He went off to get a vent screw. The guy had encountered me 10 times in the last two hours. Now I gave him $40 and expected him to get me the $10 change and catch up with me. I was walking barefoot down the street and he was on a bike. He never did seem to find me again even though I was off to the same stated destination.

About three Frank finally returned with a tank. I had paid him $30 to fill it. I hooked it up and was ready to go off when he insisted that it be installed in my aft locker. I have to meet a plumber at Red Frog. It will only take a few minutes? I know, it's not that difficult. He removed the hose from the tank, ran it through a drain hole in the locker and tried to reattach to tank. He couldn't get it on. He beat on it with a hammer to soften it. Worked it with pliers, stretched it with needle nose pliers and then with a big phillips screwdriver. I was getting disgusted. Don't you have another hose? He went into the supply cabinet and retrieved a newer more pliable hose. The concept of wanting to be on time escaped him. I was finally free to go, ten minutes before I was to meet a guy I had never met and a twenty minute ride to my destination.

When I arrived at the Red Frog workers dock, Gabriel was already on the workers, boat ready to go to Bocas. He saw me, hailed me, I pulled up to the boat and he boarded. Off to my house. I explained the situation to him. He had some long snakes but jamming them down through the cleanout was not possible. I mentioned the other cleanout got a shovel and within five minutes found it buried about a foot below the surface. A short trench was constructed, the plug removed and a filthy sludge of leaves and water gushed forth. A quick inspection and it appeared all the lines had been purged. This was the lowest point of the whole system. That was easy. Now, when is it going to rain again?

Now to run Gabriel to Bocas. Another trip to town. Another $15 in gas. The gas docks on Carenero were closed. No gas. Ok, I have an external tank, I'll go to the gas station on Colon. I was advised they had just run out of gas. No more gas in Bocas until Thursday.

I took him to Casa Verde, bought him a couple of beers. He looked at one girl and told me she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. I looked. She was one of the three Czechs that were to stay at my house. I walked over to the table and introduced him. He couldn't say a word. We discussed what they had done during the day and my day. The ring leader had finally arrived from Costa Rica, they went off to Taxi 25 to fetch her.

An hour later the goddess walked in. A spectacular 22 year old blonde Czech. Fantasy stuff wrapped in a simple, well fitted, flattering, but not sleazy dress. Eyes were bugging out every where. I approached, “Are you girls ready to go fishing tomorrow?” “No, we thought you were busy so we made plans to go to Red Frog, then we are heading back to Panama.” Ahhh shit, what lack of water will deprive a man of. We chatted for 15 minutes. They started speaking in Czech. I got the hint, then some groceries and went home.