Finally, just as we had decided to turn in for the night, we were boarded by a very cheerful Canal officer. He said quite frankly that the central office just hadn’t noticed us out here, and none of those going back and forth on official business had thought to report us. He didn’t look at our papers, passports, liquor, or cigarettes (all laid out for inspection) but merely told us to move over to the “East Flats” and gave us some forms to fill out. Then he shook hands briskly, got into his launch, and shot away.
We checked the chart, located East Flats, weighed anchor, and worked our way over there, across the Canal channel, dodging the harbor traffic which was moving busily even during the night. It was almost midnight when we reached the Flats, and dropped the hook. I got to work on the papers at once, but we were boarded again before I had finished. This time we had two visitors who took out the tape measure and solemnly, using flashlights, began to take measurements, inside and out, for all the world as if they were going to give our Phoenix a new suit—of sails, I hoped!
Because of their industry, I now have official figures on the size of our “Engine Room”: 3 ft. × 3 ft. × 3 ft. 6 in. They told me, while working, that they had just come from an eight-hour job of checking a tanker (which they had also measured with a tape measure). Surely there must be an easier way to do these things!
We were told that I should report, in the morning, to the port captain, Immigration, and Customs. It was already well into tomorrow by this time, and when the instructions for arriving at the protected anchorage off the yacht club began to involve getting permission from the Port Captain to request permission from the yacht club, whose permission must then be reported back to the port captain, I began to get a bit fuzzy.
By the time the measurements had been completed, I had the forms properly filled out and was able to hand them over. The two officials waved us a cheerful good night and took off—on their way to another boat. Work here goes on around the clock.
The next day we put the dinghy over the side, and Barbara and I went ashore. It was a stiff 40-minute row, and the harbor was choppy, so we arrived in a rather soggy condition. However, we started our rounds of the offices while we were still drying. After getting permission, etc., we walked the mile to the Panama Canal Yacht Club, where a very friendly manager received us and said it would be quite all right to anchor off the club, but had we asked permiss— I said that we had. “Then go back and tell them it’s okay with us!”
We motored at once to the yacht club, where we found a berth in quiet and protected waters only a lifebuoy’s throw from cold drinks and good old American hamburgers!
There we remained over the holiday season. We found that arranging passage for Mickey and Moto, contrary to our expectations, was a difficult and time-consuming task. Day after day, I made the rounds of various agencies, went on board Japanese ships—of which there were many—and talked to various officials. We got nowhere. At last I contacted Governor Potter, in charge of the Zone, to whom we had a letter from friends back in Yellow Springs. He very kindly put us under the full-time protection of Jim Barrett, who immediately put into motion wheels I had been unable to budge. Very shortly we had secured two reservations on the Eishin Maru due to pass through the Canal on January 6, bound for Yokohama. It was the earliest available date, but the men would have a private cabin and first-class accommodations.
During this period relations were strained on board. It was bitter for us all to face the knowledge that one of our aims—to complete the voyage with our original crew intact—had failed. But, as Ted so logically remarked: “Suppose we did complete the trip with all the men. If you ignored all the troubles, evaded all the issues, and kept secret all the fights, just so we could boast we had completed the voyage with the same seven people—just what would we have proved?”
I located a nice hotel in Cristobal for Mickey and Moto and was willing to underwrite their expenses while they were waiting for their boat, but the Canal Zone officials had other ideas: the men must stay on the Phoenix until transferred to the Eishin Maru.