Ten Degrees of Reckoning (6 page)

In between those two gulfs, we met fishermen from Guatemala and El Salvador and Nicaragua who came by in their pongas as we sailed along. It was fascinating to see the varied landscape of Central America and to experience the very precise shift in wind direction every evening when the land cooled down to the ocean’s temperatures. Whatever the shifts in wind, the sailboat behaved beautifully and I enjoyed learning its systems. It was also luxurious; unlike
Shahar,
the
Melinda Lee
had roller furling sails and self-tailing winches and a cabin I could walk around and stretch out in.

I was simply enchanted with Ben and Annie, and grateful for Mike and Judy’s love and friendship. When John and I left the boat in Costa Rica, there were no doubts in our minds that they were all going to flourish. I was already anticipating the marvelous stories that Ben and Annie would tell in five years.

The Sleavins adapted easily to life in Costa Rica. Mike’s mother, Catherine, and her friend Marge joined the
Melinda Lee
for a two-week visit, bearing letters, gifts, and more boat supplies. Judy wrote that “the kids were ecstatic to have Grandma twenty-four hours a day, swimming, hiking, sailing, and fishing.” She added that “Ben was an emotional wreck for two weeks while his Legos were stowed to make room for boat guests.” And Mike described a highlight: “We saw the Arenal Volcano at night with a full moon rising over the top of it. Red lava was streaking down the side, and you could hear the rumblings.”

By the end of October, after more than three months of exploring Costa Rica by land and sea, the
Melinda Lee
arrived in Panama. As the Sleavins sailed onward, it wasn’t always easy for them to find a port where they could post letters. Whenever possible, they would write to Maureen Lull. She would photocopy the letters and send them to everyone on the group list.

The southwestern part of Panama has hundreds of islands, each populated with only one or two families. There are protected anchorages and beautiful beaches, and people who love to trade lobsters for T-shirts and toys and powdered milk. We were invited to the birthday party of a five-year-old and had a wonderful time. We arrived at José’s grass hut (it was his daughter’s birthday) and we were all graciously welcomed. Dirt floors, extremely clean, handmade furniture, hammocks for beds, lots of smiles and laughter.
—The Sleavins

With all the distractions, getting the kids to focus on schoolwork was always a challenge. But they were learning to speak Spanish and playing with their new Panamanian friends. Later, the Sleavins sailed to the Balboa Yacht Club, where huge ships making the Panama Canal transit constantly passed within fifty yards of them.

We just saw the largest ship to ever pass through the Panama Canal, the Royal Princess, a cruise ship that had to pay $141,000 to pass through. We will be transiting in four days, and our tariff is $235.00.
—Mike Sleavin

The Panama Canal traverses the Isthmus of Panama, in Central America, to connect the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. The mean sea level between the two oceans isn’t significant, but the locks are needed as the vessels ascend and descend through several artificial lakes and channels from the deep water of one ocean to the deep water of the other. The canal was built mainly for trade, and the first vessel transited in 1914. The Panama Canal has had an enormous impact on shipping; ships no longer have to travel the long and often treacherous route around Cape Horn at the southernmost tip of South America. Nevertheless, the global economy and the subsequent massive ships now being built were never anticipated. The huge ships that Mike mentioned in his letter sent in 1993 are dwarfed by present-day structures, and those that can just squeeze into the canal are referred to as Panamax vessels. On October 22, 2006, Panamanians approved a proposed expansion of the canal in order to accommodate the surge in shipping traffic and the modern ships whose dimensions exceed the Panamax. Tolls are based upon the type, size, and tonnage of the vessels and the kind of cargo they are carrying.

The transiting of the canal was a wonderful experience. It took two days, and we got to spend the night on Gatun Lake. It is really an amazing engineering feat. We started off crossing through the locks at seven in the morning with an advisor from the canal district aboard. He had a trainee, and it was our responsibility to find the line handlers. Four are needed, so you find two adults from another sailboat at the Balboa Yacht Club, and then you all take the bus back at the end of the transit and help to take theirs through the same procedure. And you bring all the kids with you. We had Dwayne and Debbie from Rubaiyacht and their two kids. Needless to say, it was a full boat.

The canal is set up with three locks going up and three coming down. You go up eighty-four feet to Gatun Lake. They have a series of two locks. Then you cross Miraflores Lake, one-quarter mile to the third lock. After coming out, you proceed for eight miles through a narrow channel where only one ship can pass at a time. The cliffs go straight up on each side of you. Ninety million tons of earth was moved from this section. You come out to Gatun Lake, and it is a twenty-three-mile crossing to the down locks. The locks are 1,000 feet long and 106 feet wide. We had to side tie to various ships and boats, although at one point we were squeezed between two large vessels.

—Mike Sleavin, in a letter sent home

The existence of the waterway had a bearing on the Sleavins’ journey. Mike and Judy decided to give their children more time and experience where they were never too far from land, before making a longer passage of a month’s duration. By transiting the Panama Canal they could spend more than a year in the Caribbean, with short hops and many ports of call in a variety of countries. They would be able to sail thirty miles between anchorages rather than the three thousand miles required to reach the next landfall in the South Pacific. The family would have a transitional period to adjust to the life, and Ben and Annie’s schooling could be expanded with many inland adventures.

Upon exiting the Panama Canal, the
Melinda Lee
headed north. By the end of December, they had spent a month in the Bay Islands, or Islas de la Bahía, of Honduras. Unexpectedly, they had cold front after cold front, with high seas and increasing winds, and they learned to be prepared to leave an anchorage on short notice.

Right now we are part of a group of four boats. We arrived in Livingston , Guatemala, after a twenty-four-hour sail from Utila. One by one we were “assisted” over the bar in the Rio Dulce River. All four boats hired a launch to pull down on our spinnaker halyards, from the top of the masts, so that we proceeded into the river at a 20-degree angle of lean. Most interesting way of cruising! Definitely worth it.

We’re in calm, fresh water full of fish and wildlife. We spent two days slowly traveling up the river, stopping to enjoy a manatee preserve, jungle walk, and incredible scenery. Actually that word doesn’ t do it justice. Pelicans, egrets and ducks flew through the gorge in front of us, 400-foot cliffs on either side, vines hanging down to the water, dug-outs paddling by.
—Judy Sleavin, January 10, 1994

One of the boats in the group was from France, and the Sleavin family were adding French words to their vocabulary. Mike was still struggling with Spanish, and Judy wrote about his favorite joke.

What do you call a person who speaks three languages? Trilingual. What do you call a person who speaks two languages? Bilingual. What do you call a person who speaks one language? American!

After two weeks of exploring Honduras and Guatemala by minivan, Mike and Annie returned to
Melinda Lee.
Judy and Ben got on a bus headed for the charming little city of Antigua, the original capital of Guatemala, and also known as La Antigua, for a week of intensive Spanish. By arrangement of one of the language academies, they lived with a Guatemalan family and attended classes together. They visited a primary school and participated in a Mardi Gras celebration with the students. They visited museums, learned about the colonial buildings and Spanish-style architecture, and walked among the ruins. They looked at crafts and watched a renowned and colorful religious procession. Ben loved all the fun he had with his mom. One night, after she had answered his usual hundred questions, he presented her with a ring made of construction paper.

“Someday I’m going to marry you,” Ben said.

“Okay,” Judy answered, “but it will be our secret. Don’t tell Dad.”

“I won’t if you don’t,” replied the sleepy seven-year-old.

Every day, Ben bought Annie a present and spent more time shopping than practicing his Spanish. Fortunately, there was a long-winded parrot at the house who liked to yell words at him and Judy, and Ben preferred this style of language acquisition. He was a bit shy about speaking with the Guatemalan family. His grandfather Pops Larry had given him a captain’s hat, and Judy suggested that Ben wear it around town to identify himself as a yachtsman. He wore it constantly. He became known by that hat, and was hailed on the cobblestone streets of Antigua as El Capitán Más Pequeño, the Littlest Captain.

In March, the Sleavins sent a letter home with Mike’s mother and sister, Sharon, who had come to visit for a week of good fishing and diving. They remarked upon the friendly Belizeans and the gorgeous clean, clear water.

Can you believe it? It’s already been a year. We’ve been to seven countries, through the Panama Canal, traveled by boat, bus, bikes, horses, and mostly feet. We’ve lived twenty-four hours a day together in a small space. We’ve even had our share of pets: lizards, hermit crabs, lobsters (until the water was boiling). We’ve come face-to-face with barracudas, dolphins, flying fish, jellyfish, bats, and lots more. It’s been a great year.
—The Sleavins 

They sailed farther north and met up in Isla Mujeres, Mexico, with Judy’s folks and her sister Risa’s family, who had come to help her celebrate her fortieth birthday. In addition to the presents, they brought requested equipment and supplies, and the next two weeks were spent on boat maintenance and reprovisioning the galley. The Sleavins’ next stop was unusual. 

Greetings from that big island in the Northern Caribbean, the one that starts with the C and is run by the bearded fellow who smokes a cigar. Although officials from five different departments visited the boat to clear us in, there were no difficulties with the authorities. The Cubans have been, by far, the friendliest people we have met. Wherever we walk we carry a large bag of clothes, shampoo and soap, toilet paper, and toys to distribute. We are usually invited in for coffee, and our kids are a big hit, as always. They have been given many gifts, including polished shells, an army beret, a karate manual, thirty pounds of mangoes, and many handmade necklaces made out of plastic, leather, and seeds.

We spent three days at Santiago de Cuba, our last Cuban port and the largest city on the southern coast. Entering was incredible. A huge fort/castle from the fifteenth century loomed down on us as our three boats with three American flags sailed into this deepwater bay. Every person we saw—in homes, on boats, on bikes, riding horses, walking—everyone stopped and waved. We look forward to meeting them all, to visiting the museums, and to finding that castle.

Annie Rose is now in first grade and Ben has already started second grade. Ben helps Annie with her reading, and today it rained so we made origami frogs and had races. We bought four new Cuban musical instruments, and Ben wants us to have a Family Band and perform in different countries!!! Now there’s a child who’s watched
The Sound of Music
too many times.
—The Sleavins

When the Sleavins left Cuba to sail to Monte Cristi on the Atlantic Ocean side of the Dominican Republic, they had an exciting adventure, at least for Ben. Haiti and the Dominican Republic share the island of Hispaniola. The Sleavins’ route to pick up their next visitors, Maureen and Richard Lull, in the Dominican Republic, would take them close to the United States’ naval blockade of Haiti. The embargo made for a difficult passage. They maintained a course outside the blockade, but they were frequently summoned on their VHF radio, with stern warnings from the navy to head even farther offshore.

Sailboats made of wood or fiberglass require more than the mast and rigging to give a good signal on a ship’s radar. Adding a radar reflector, or even several, high up on the mast can significantly increase the visibility. That night was a good test; it was obvious that the radar reflector on the
Melinda Lee
was effective and their radar signal was significant, because each time they were warned about entering the blockade space, the naval operator was surprised to be communicating with someone on such a small craft.

At some point, Mike disengaged the windvane and steered the boat, while Judy sat in the cockpit with one of their handheld VHF radios. Repeatedly, they had to identify themselves and give thorough details of the crew, vessel, and route. Soon after one such call, although they were more than twelve miles off the coast, they saw a huge naval warship steaming toward the
Melinda Lee.
Judy tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice over the VHF radio.