PANAMA POSSE 
SEASON 5
FINAL FLEET UPDATE 

June 7, 2022

SY GREEN FLASH PICTURE OF THE YEAR

TOP NEWS THIS WEEK

1) PANAMA POSSE SEASON 5 

2) AWARD WINNERS

3)  REGISTRATION PANAMA POSSE SEASON 6 OPENS

4)  THE ANNUAL SURVEY 

1) PANAMA POSSE SEASON FINALE  
VISTA MARINA  PANAMA
 

over 200 pictures from the party and the 2 short speeches to celebrate 2021-2022

Congratulations to all the yachts which savely made it to their destinations for the hurricane season>
At Marina Vista Mar plenty of muscia, free Panamanian beer and free rum  courtesy of   Flor de Caña Rum and Boga Bar !

Juanjo
from Shelterbay Marina Panama, Capt.. Dietmar, Luis Petti and Cesar
from Vista Mar Marina plus  Deputy Tourism Minister  of Panama
Lic. Denise Guillen Zuñiga for the Season Finale !

Great Dancing, Karaoke and an amazing sunset paella 

Cesar  Vista Mar Marina, Emilio  Buenaventura Marina, Juanjo Shelter Bay Marina

12 year old sustainable Flor de Caña Rum flowing freely 

Jacqueline from Vista Mar Marina welcoming the Panama Posse to Panama !

Panama Canal Agent extraordinaire Erick Galvez and his wife handing out prizes to the Panama Posse fleet 

Boat
Yoga Poses of the year runner up Jean-Philippe SY PATHFINDER and
winners  Nicole SY MAISON DE SANTÉ accepting their awards 

2)  AWARD WINNERS

    BIGGEST FISH CAUGHT*  

WINNER 
BUSY BEE  🇺🇸  Dan, Lori & Crew - Lagoon 40'

RUNNER UP
DANCING ON THE EDGE 🇺🇸 Dan & Melissa - Island Packet 53'

    PICTURE OF THE YEAR    

WINNER 
SY GREEN FLASH 🇺🇸  Bob & Joan - Beneteau 35′

RUNNER UP 
SY CALICO SKIES 🇺🇸 William & Grace - Sabre 36'

    PANAMA POSSE YODA OF THE YEAR    

WINNER
SY ENJOY 🇺🇸 Don - Lagoon 42′

 for his important  contribution to route sharing in Good Nautical 

    SPEEDY AWARD – SEVENSTAR AWARD    

WINNER 
SY NORTHERN PEARL 🇨🇦 Kevin - Baltic 42'

For a  most extraordinary journey during the global height of the COVID restrictions 

    THE CAPTAIN RON AWARD 

WINNER 
MY DELTA SWIZZLER 🇺🇸 Mark ( and Cindy )  Vantare 58'

RUNNER UP 
SY ENJOY 🇺🇸 Nina - Lagoon 42′

    MOST UNWELCOME VISITOR ONBOARD   

WINNER 
SY RAMBLE ON ROSE  🇺🇸  Don & Rosalind - Caliber 40'

RUNNER UP 
MY NAVIGATOR 🇺🇸 Dave - Nordhavn 46′

    HIGHEST WIND RECORDED   

WINNER 
MY SWINGIN' ON A STAR 🇺🇸 Randy & Nancy - Saint Francis Marine 50'

RUNNER UP 
SY SOLMATE  🇺🇸  Adam & Jen - Fountaine Pajot 45′

    SPIRIT OF EXPLORATION  

WINNER 
SY KYRIE 🇺🇸 Joe, Kristen & Crew - Prout 37'

RUNNER UP 
SY RANDONNEE 🇺🇸 Diana & Randy -- Boreal 42'

    GALLEY GOD(ESS)  

WINNER
MY HO'OKIPA 🇺🇸  Lucky Chucky ( and Lisa ) - Selene 43'

    GOOD SAMARITAN OF THE YEAR  

WINNER 
BILL & JEAN - LA PALMA MOORINGS EL SALVADOR 

RUNNER UP 
VICENTE - ACAPULCO MOORINGS MEXICO 

 BOAT YOGA POSE OF THE YEAR 

WINNER 
SY MAISON DE SANTE - Nicole ( Jack & Keenan ) - Cal 46'

RUNNER UP 
SY PATHFINDER 🇺🇸 Jean-Philippe & Nicole - Lagoon 39'

All winners get first picks of prizes - follow this link please >>

3) TRANSITION TO 
PANAMA POSSE SEASON 6

Early Registration IS NOW OPEN >>

Prior Benefits of Season 5 
expire on July 4,  2022

4) HELP US MAKE THE NEXT SEEASON EVEN BEETR 
TAKE THE PANAMA POSSE SURVEY >>

https://panamaposse.com/survey

It's
a quick and short survey - please give us your feedback and let us know
how e can improve. This is your time to help shape the future of the
Panama Posse >>>

Please let us know how we can make your cruising live easier >>

5) GALES IN THE  BAHAMAS

Excerpt from SY Solmate Journal:

20220604 ABL 0438 I
awake to the sound of rain and the feeling of Solmate shifting
laterally, around her anchor. I go up on deck and survey in the dark. We
are a bit closer to our neighbor Jasper than I would like, but that’s a
consequence of where they anchored. There seems to be no immediate
danger.

Several
months ago in Georgetown I anchored in about 17’ of water in a position
that seemed similarly close to a 36’ monohull named Stateless. In 16’
of water, with four feet for the platform, a 7:1 scope requires a swing
of 140 feet. We let out 95 feet of chain and attached our bridle. The
wind was out of the east for several days and all the boats in the
anchorage seemed to swing together.

One
night while in Georgetown, I was similarly awakened to the sound of
rain and the feeling of Solmate shifting laterally, and I similarly went
up on deck to survey in the darkness. The wind was howling and had
moved quite south of east. Moisture was pouring out of the sky like
someone was spilling it out of a bucket. I found Stateless about 30 feet
off the port quarter. It seemed her anchor chain was quite different in
scope than ours and it made me quite uncomfortable--it looked as if we
kept rotating north (as we would if the wind continued south) Stateless’
bow would collide with Solmate’s stern. I had been the second to
anchor, so I would be at fault for that collision if it happened. I
called below for Jen, and told her I needed her on deck. She woke and
said she’d be right up--she needed clothes and contact lenses.

When
I turned back to the port quarter, Solmate was less than 15 feet away
from Stateless, we were approaching her rapidly. I called “Jen, I need
you” loudly. I wanted her to go to the anchor locker and get some
fenders to fend off. I didn’t think I could leave the port quarter and
go myself as I believed I had to manually fend off the imminent
collision.

There
were less than ten feet between us when I got an idea--I untied Lunatic
from the starboard aft cleat and dragged her across the stern. Lunatic
is a RIB, or rigid inflatable boat, so her sides were pneumatic tubes; I
figured I would squeeze her between our two boats and prevent the
fiberglass boats from colliding. When I got back to the port quarter,
the boats were nearly touching and I worked Lunatic in between, pushing
on Stateless’ bow and pulling on Lunatic’s painter. Lunatic was wedged
in, her starboard side pressed against the aft corner of Solmate’s sugar
scoop. The corner dug in, and I thought she might pop. I don’t know how
much pressure a RIB can take. At that moment, Stateless’ captain came
up on deck. He had unsurprisingly heard the sound of Lunatic rubbing
against his hull. I shouted out to him over the tremendous noise of the
wind and the rain: “How much chain do you have out.”

“Sixty
feet,” he replied. OMG, sixty feet? That’s barely 3:1. Of course, this
situation is still my fault as he was anchored here first, and his 60
foot scope is holding his much smaller vessel in place.

“Can you let out more chain?” I shout.

“I only have 100 feet, but maybe I can let some more out.”

He
went to work as I continued to fend off the boats. By this time, Jen
was on deck watching the near-catastrophe unfold. Stateless let out
about 30’ of chain and swung behind Solmate. When we reached our steady
“unengaged” state in the south wind, Stateless was about ten feet behind
Solmate. The three of us stood there in the darkness, in the rain, in
the wind, and surveyed the situation. It appeared stable and should hold
until morning. I shouted an apology and he was gracious about it. We
all went back to bed.

When
the sun came up the rain was gone. The wind and seas had died down. In
the moderate breeze, Solmate and Stateless were still about ten feet
apart. Eventually the wind resumed its normal flow from the east. I
can’t remember whether Stateless or Solmate left first, but I do recall
that we were not together at the anchorage next time there was a south
wind.

But
that was then, on this early morning in the darkness, and the wind, and
the rain, having concluded there was no immediate danger from Jasper, I
went back to bed.

0638 “Did you hear that?” Jen says to me while I’m sleeping, “It sounds like the anchor chain.”

I
hadn’t heard it, but now I was up. I go up to the salon and survey the
situation. The wind is 1 knot and its raining. I look at the chart
plotter, and the night’s light air has swung Solmate through the one
place in her rotation that would be bad--Solmate’s anchor chain is
likely caught on the mooring block. With the wind so light, there is no
urgency, and even if it is caught, it will be easy to remedy. Since
there is no hurry, and because I have to use the restroom anyway, the
restroom located in Solmate’s starboard bow wins my attention.

Screech. Scrape. Klunk. “What’s that? Are you OK?” I call out from my forward perch.

Jen’s replies, “That’s the chain.”

Wow,
it was quite a noise. We are no longer “likely” wrapped on the mooring
block, we are definitely wrapped. Absent an unusual circumstance, a boat
lies downwind of its anchor. Since the wind shifts around all the time,
the location of a boat can be found within a circle (and usually on the
circle) that is defined using the swing as the radius. Except where
there is a strong wind, the chain lies mostly on the bottom. If there is
something on the bottom on which the chain can catch, like the mooring
block we charted yesterday, and the wind causes the boat and thus the
chain to swing past the obstruction, the chain will wrap on it. Since
the mooring block is 70 feet from Bernie, and our scope is 90 feet, the
chain about 20’ ahead of the bow will wrap, putting 20 feet of chain
between our boat and the new “anchor” and taking our bridle out of the
mix. It would be a terrible situation in harsh conditions, and I can
imagine a parade of horrible consequences. Thus, I am quite pleased that
the wind is substantially non-existent.

Jen
then informs me that the wind has picked up to a moderate breeze. I
guess sailors should know that things can change fast. I hurry my
business and get to the salon. Jen and I make a plan. I can go on the
bow and pull the starboard bridle lead. If the wind doesn’t get any
stronger, it will require only moderate effort to move Solmate in this
way. When we are over the point of connection between the bridle and the
chain, I think I should be able to pull the chain upwards and over the
mooring block. There are a lot of unknowns, but the wind at least is
cooperating somewhat. We get our rain gear and prepare to go forward
when the wind shifts again--not slightly, but almost 180 degrees. Just
enough to unwrap Solmate. We watch the chartplotter in amazement at this
very fortunate turn of events. Once the chain had unwrapped itself with
a little help from a friendly wind, Solmate drifted to the opposite
side of the anchor, and now lies as she should, directly downwind from
the anchor.

I
again survey for issues. Because of our experience with Stateless, and
despite the fact that I got four fenders ready-at-hand, Jen and I agreed
to leave Lunatic in the water last night. I looked at her and she was
riding lower than I would like in the water. On closer inspection, I
find that she’s taken on almost a foot of water. Fortunately, it’s fresh
water which is nary as corrosive as its salty counterpart, but it needs
to be bailed out. Jen retrieves our last working portable pump. It’s a
small hand pump with a relatively short throw. Lunatic is tied to the
starboard stern cleat. I grab her second painter and tie her amidships,
albeit closer to the stern platform. Jen hands me the pump and I climb
aboard Lunatic and begin pumping her out, in the pouring rain.
Fortunately, I am mostly sheltered from the wind by Solmate.

After
pumping and pumping and pumping, I recall there is a small liter-sized
bailer stored aboard. It’s basically a large cup with a handle. I start
bailing Lunatic, maybe 200 liters? As the water level got too low to
bail effectively, I went back to pumping. I was soaked through by the
rain, but the day’s warmth even without the sun allowed me to maintain
enough body heat so that I wasn’t shivering or cold.

When
I emerged from the project, I proudly announced to Jen that we would be
lifting Lunatic out of the water and stowing her on her platform, which
I promptly did. Once stowed above the water line I can remove Lunatic’s
drain plug and let her bail herself. I just hope we don’t need her as a
fender.

1000
I hear a chain clanking. Jen and I look around. Jasper is on deck
adjusting her scope. We chat briefly with Jasper on the radio, and a
calm voice informs us Jasper is letting out 20 feet of additional
chain. That’s good by me; I am happy to be 20 feet farther from
Jasper.

1100 We
continue to check the weather, but the models only update twice a day,
so it doesn’t change. Wind, by its very nature, is rarely smooth and
steady. Most winds are gusty, and you have to keep your eye on both the
sustained wind and the gusts. According to weather experts, sustained
wind is an average of the wind speed over a two minute period. Oddly, my
very sophisticated wind data displays available on our chart plotters,
which includes true and apparent wind angles and graphs of direction and
strength over time, doesn’t do the wind speed calculation according to
the proper formula. The wind instrument itself reports only wind
direction and gusts. The wind instrument takes its measurement from the
top of the mast using an instrument that combines wind direction
indicator (WINDEX) and an anemometer, and that data is sent by wire to
the NMEA 2000 network, where any attached marine instrument can see it.

Almost
a year ago, I purchased a remarkably small server device that connect
to the NMEA 2000 network and rebroadcasts the data on the network over a
port on my wifi. Small may be an understatement, it’s a cylinder about
2” long with a diameter of about 1”. Despite it’s diminutive size, the
server allowed me to make a web page available to any phone or other
device connected to our ships local area network (by wifi or otherwise)
Thus, anyone on the boat with a browser on their phone or computer can
see the current ships data about heading, wind speed, angle, engine rpm,
sea temperature, gps position, UTC time and the reported sounding for
depth. I use that, along with my phone’s anchor alarm (which plots
position over time and displays my alarm radius) when I am in bed at
night to check on Solmate’s status. The latter of course, is only used
when we are at anchor, but the former allows the Jen or I to see
valuable information from bed when someone else is on watch.

Anticipation
is high. The winds slowly build. The massive system, our weather event,
is leaving the coast of Florida, and heading northeast out over water.
Systems like this generally weaken on landfall and strengthen when they
return to the sea. The system as predicted, as best we can tell, is
leaving Florida just north of our position. The counterclockwise
rotation of northern hemisphere lows gives us the ability to roughly
track our bearing to the storm by the wind’s direction. Now the wind is
out of the south-south east (5 o’clock). As the storm moves to a
position where it’s leading edge is north of us, the winds will be out
of the south (6 o’clock), and when eye of the storm passes east of our
meridian, the winds will move to the west-southwest (8 o’clock).

1800 Without sun, and with the fairly heavy rains, our house bank falls below 50% with night approaching.
I start the genset, and turn on the salon and owner-hull air
conditioning to get some cool, dry air. We have enough water so I need
not engage the watermaker to use surplus generator power. Jen wants to
shower, but we haven’t heated the water for two days; it won’t be hot,
but it’s likely to be warm enough to be comfortable. I would normally
turn on the hot water but this is only accessible from the starboard
engine room, and the starboard engine room is only accessible from the
starboard sugar scoop. I don’t want to open the engine room hatch in
this rain and let all that water into the engine room, it’s probably OK
but  just seems unnecessary. Jen finds the water fine for a shower,
and comes back upstairs clean, cool, dry and happy.

I
have so-far resisted the temptation of closing in the helm station
completely. The helm station has windowed canvas that can enclose it 360
degrees. Last May when we reached the Chesapeake, we replaced the rear
canvas with a sturdy screen-like fabric that is not water tight, but
makes for good ventilation. We can reach the helm station from the salon
via a steep short staircase. This staircase can be used regardless of
whether the helm station is buttoned up or completely exposed. The helm
station has two other exits, however, one to the starboard side deck and
one to the flybridge, which sits more mid-ships and another short
staircase above. There is an opening for each of the exits that can be
closed in with the windowed canvas. I have not closed them and while
there is no direct rain in, the helm station is fairly wet. The reason I
generally don’t close these two access portals is just that, access. If
the access to the flybridge is blocked, I cannot easily and safely get
to the mast or boom in weather without taking a minute or two to open
and stow the canvas (you can’t really leave it flapping around in the
weather). Moving the canvas that blocks access to the deck is a bigger
job, and could take three or four minutes, but that is mitigated by the
fact that I can just go down to the cockpit, across to the sugar scoops
and the up onto the deck from there. Either way, if there were an issue
that creates a need to get a location where the access is blocked, I
would need to take extra time to address the issue. Thinking ahead as a
sailor must do, I generally conclude that at the moment the issue
becomes an issue, I need to get there in a hurry, the extra time needed
to gain access could prove undesirable, or worse. Nonetheless, I decide I
will close in the helm station. Doing so will keep it drier in the
event that we need to be there during the weather event, for example to
relieve strain on the anchor using the engines, to avoid another boat
that drags its anchor or breaks free from its mooring, or to maneuver
the boat in the terrible and unlikely case we break free ourselves. It
has a second collateral benefit, making the canvas system complete--each
end is attached to another--and thus, I figure, more self supporting. I
get very wet going in and out of the enclosure to zip and lash it in
place.

Gale
force winds are now sustained, meaning the wind is in the mid to high
30s, with gusts frequently into the high forties. We saw one gust at
52.0 knots on the display. That’s basically tied for the highest gust
we’ve ever seen--and that was just a month ago off Egg Island near the
Devils Backbone. I make frequent inspection checks of the deck. We hear
all kinds of noises: whistling, clacking, thrashing and occasionally
bumping. We calmly try to draw conclusions as to the source of each
noise, some requiring inspection, others just disregarded as normal.
Going on deck for inspection is a wet endeavor.

1903 Clack,
clack, clack, clack. OK, that’s not normal. Although it’s overcast, the
sun has not set, and the light of the day is still bright enough that I
easily find a snap on one outboard section of the canvas enclosure
undone. I redo the snap and go back inside to dry off--I change my
soaked clothes and I check sunset, the instruments report that it will
occur today at 2001. Thankfully afore-knowledge of celestial events,
unlike afore-knowledge of weather, is perfect.

1921 Clack,
clack, clack, clack. I head back outside and see the snap undone again,
as well as another hook-like connector. I push the snap back in, and it
pops out. After a brief (wet) inspection, I conclude that the snap
can’t take the pressure of these sustained winds; I also conclude that
the flapping released the other connector.

I
work first on the snap to stop the flapping. I roll in the small lower
section of canvas that the snap supports and tie it off to the larger
areas. The flapping is stopped, but there is a small hole in the system.
The location of the hole seems unworrisome, so I look at how to keep
the other connector in place as the snap is a substantial part of its
support. I take a snap-hook connected to a length of polypropylene line
and connect one end to the connector. I run the line rearwards and
fasten the other end to a relatively secure location near the aft of the
boat. I watch for a bit to see how my temporary fix fares. The system
stays in place as the wind gusts, so I again go inside and dry off. This
time I am so wet, I have to change my clothes, I hang up my wet outfit
in the cockpit which despite the raging weather event, is rather calm
and dry. The cockpit was well-designed to provide protection from the
weather, and although its floor is wet, the seats, tables and make-shift
clothes line are largely well protected.

1800
It’s sunset, as predicted. The sustained winds are still gale force as
predicted. While the ominous thought of howling gusts running through
our rigging throughout the night is upon us, we cheerfully decide to
ignore it, and have a drink and some dinner. Solmate seems secure. I go
outside and make one last position check to ensure Solmate and all of
the other boats in the harbor are where I would expect them. All is as
expected. With Solmate secure, on the way back into the salon from the
cockpit, I grab Jen a Yingling from the cockpit fridge and I get myself a
hard seltzer.

The
wind is relentless. Jen and I largely ignore it, and while I do make
hourly checks around the vessel, we settle in to have dinner and then
watch some TV.

1123
I look over at Jen, she’s fast asleep. It has been a long day. I insist
she go to bed. She is reluctant as she doesn’t want to abandon me. I
assure her that having rested crew is important, and that if there is
any reason to need her I will call down to get her. She takes another
look at the weather models on the computer, and I point out that the
wind is now about 15 degrees west of south, which means the eye of the
event has passed our meridian and the worst is almost assuredly over.
Off to bed she goes.

Alone
on anchor watch, I read and watch TV. Every 20 minutes or so, I check
our position, the wind speed and direction and the location of the
mooring block obstruction relative to our chain. When the wind howls I
look and continue to see gusts into the low forties, each time thinking
that must be the end of it.

20220605 ABL 0323 Jen
emerges at the companionway door to see if I am OK. I am and I tell her
to go back to bed. Gale force winds continue to blow. Over the next 30
minutes the wind eases to a near-gale, then to a strong breeze, then to a fresh breeze. Is it over?

0400 After
15 minutes of sustained winds below 20 knots, I head down to go to bed.
The house bank is at 93%, so I turn on our stateroom air conditioning
and after washing up, I join Jen in the bed.

1217
I awake, shut off the air conditioning and come up to the deck. The day
is sunny with a gentle breeze. Jen is at her computer. I make coffee
and look around the harbor. All the boats are in place. Kids that live
on some of the other catamarans are screaming and jumping into the
water. The house bank is at 97%. It’s like it never happened. 

SY SOLMATE   🇺🇸 Adam & Jen - Fountaine Pajot 45′

6) NEW NEXT SEASON 

 Panama & Pacific Posse 
“University” @ Safe Harbor South Bay, CALIFORNIA

3 days of learning and 3 nights of fun & mingling at the first

Oct 25 – 27, 2022  San Diego, California
 

Limited to 75 Cruising Couples or 150 Individuals – stay tuned for details  
 

Panama & Pacific Posse University & Party this fall

7) MEET SY RUM TRUFFLE 
 

We need to set the record straight - meet 
# 385  SY RUM TRUFFLE  🇬🇧  Mark & Gina - Moody 49'