By Sunday night we had a suitcase and a duffle bag packed with enough stuff for everyone for a three day stay in Cali. The trailer was in pieces; everything was off it and stuffed where ever we could find room. At sunrise Monday morning we were all up and moving. The trunks, tent and poles were put on the bed in the back. The bed of the trailer was manhandled in, then the tongue and wheels, now all the stuff that was on it. The front wheel and handlebars of the Honda came off. In it went. The foreman of the loaders had told Bill to make sure everything was packed in real tight and that any thing of value should be in the back out of reach. He also suggested leaving a few things in the front that could be “considered souvenirs” for the drivers and loaders.
Bill put a couple of Playboys, some Vegas ashtrays and a couple packs of cigarettes on the dashboard. (When we got the motorhome off the ship only the Playboys were missing.)
Because the propane had to be shut off while on the boat we had taken everything out of the refrigerator and packed it in a big ice chest thinking it was so full it would last for 3 days. Finally everything was inside and believe it or not there was still room for The Driver.
Meanwhile, Robert, Mark had helped Klaus take his BMW apart to put it inside their van. Even with it apart there wasn’t enough room so they had to take out their refrigerator/sink combo and put it in Bruce and Lucy’s van.
One person per vehicle the convoy of five vehicles headed for the docks. They had made arrangements with the shipping company for a ride back to Tucumen Airport. Our flight was supposed to leave at 8:30 a.m. The rest of us took a couple of taxies to the terminal where we would meet them.
Just before 8:30 Bill, Bruce, Maynard and Mark walked in. Everything had gone okay at the docks. Juan’s car was going on the ship but he was not taking the plane with us.
So now we were 16 - eager to board the plane for our three-hour flight to Cali, Colombia. Boarding was supposed to be 9:30. Two and half-hours later we were still waiting to board, but not so eager. We were told the plane was having “mechanical” problems. Makes you wonder.
Panama City’s airport was fairly new with a control tower and large modern terminals. It had two runways. The long main runway was laid out right across the main highway into town. When a plane was taking off or landing the cars had to stop and wait for it. We had crossed this many times on the way to the campground. The buildings were clean, the duty free shops full of great stuff. We looked at perfumes from France, Japanese cameras, and clothes from Europe. There was jewelry from all over the world. It was a very busy place, tourists from all over the world. We seemed to be the only ones speaking English.
Lucy and I took the kids to the lounge and watched other planes arrive unload their passengers and then load up and leave.
Our flight was finally called at 12:30 p.m. We started through the gate, Bill and I first. John Mc and Randy bringing up the rear of our group. Suddenly two guards were grabbing Randy. He was wearing his Buck knife on his belt. Unless he took it off and handed it over he would not be allowed to board the plane. Reluctantly he turned it over. The guard had him sign five different papers. The he stamped them with the inevitable colored stamps. Randy got copies and was assured he would get the knife back when we landed in Cali. Okay.
I had been worried about having to take a plane because Gil had always refused to ride in our small single engine plane at home. He said he didn’t like the p-pellers. One of the times we tried to convince him to take a flight with us he was yelling so loud the controllers refused to allow us to take off. He never did ride in the plane. I was holding on to him ready to pick him up and carry him if I had to. He was holding on to Henry, an old stuffed Pluto dog that was almost as big as he was. He surprised us all, and was eager to get on the plane. After all there were no p-pellers on it.
When we saw the plane we all stopped in our tracts. We hoped we were heading in the wrong direction. There sat a pea green 707 that looked like it had been used for target practice and lost. The wings and fuselage were coated with streaks of oil and dirt. There was no other plane, we had to get on.
Inside was worse. The carpet and seats were worn and filthy. At one time they probably were beige, now they were black, red, and brown depending on what had been spilled. We spread out and found seats wherever there was room. Paul, Gil and Henry sat with me just in front of the wing. Bill and John were across the aisle. Randy, John Mc, Maynard, Klaus, Paul and Frenchie were way in the back. Bruce, Lucy and Lyle were in front of them.
When the engines started the whole plane shuddered, groaned and coughed. Smoke was coming up from under the wings! The stewardess pulled the door closed. As she turned away it popped open. She closed it again. It opened again. She called the pilot to help her close it. He came out from the cockpit cigarette dangling between his lips. His pea green uniform shirt was about two sizes too small. The coat was gapping at the buttons. The two of them pushed, pulled and pounded on the door until it finally stayed closed. Time to take off.
Down the runway, across the highway and into the air. Around the door and windows we could see a fine line of day light. The wind whistling through them was so loud it was hard to carry on a conversation.
About a half-hour into the flight the attendant brought out lunch. The sandwiches on white bread were made of lunch meat and lettuce. They looked and smelled past their prime. In other words the meat was green and the lettuce was brown. There weren’t enough for everyone on the flight so we politely declined the offer. Only Klaus and John Mc ate.
About an hour into the flight great puffs of black smoke started coming out from under the wings. We were almost to Medellin, Colombia where we had a stop over. We were very glad to land there. The pilot announced that everyone had to get off the plane. Into the terminal we traipsed, all sixteen of us with our carry on luggage and Henry. No one went shopping or strayed to the café. Bill was the only one of us interested in this airport. In the middle of the terminal area was a statue of Carlos Gardel, the famous Argentine tango singer. You could also look out a window at the mountain where he died. His plane crashed there right after takeoff. Nice thought!
Turned out Gil loved the flight and Frenchie “Oh La La’d” the whole trip.
The other travelers in the terminal weren’t the sophisticated European types we had seen in Panama City. They were mostly big, young men with scowling faces and bulges under their coats. Four long hours later we re-boarded the same plane. The streaks were larger and darker. The smoke was still coming from under the wings but not as bad. By now it was raining, we didn’t mind, figured if the wings started on fire the rain would put it out. Maybe we should have taken a more expensive flight out of Panama.
Next driving in South America
There are pictures of the harrowing affair of loading the motorhome on the photos page.
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The next day was spent trying to figure out how to rearrange everything so it would fit inside the motorhome. The trailer would have to be taken apart - the wheels and tongue had to come off. And the Honda would be yet another problem.
After getting the confirmation date all the guys piled into one of the vans and went to the docks to complete the paper work. See one person, pay, get a stamp take it to someone else more stamps and signatures. Finally it was all done, just the final stamp when the vehicles showed up at the boat.
The kids and I just relaxed. They rode their bikes all over the campground looking for new bugs to bring home. A lot of time was spent in the pool; this was the cleanest everyone had been since we left home. (We do have a shower in the motorhome but we take VERY QUICK showers to conserve water.)
We brought a lot of magazines with us from home: Good Housekeeping, Redbook, Family Circle, Playboy etc. Still don’t think Playboy is intellectual. I was reading them cover to cover - including all the recipes and every single ad. I’d never looked at the ads before. From time to time we had given magazines to people we met along the way. They were a good ice breaker. Also on one of our trips into town we had discovered a used book store that sold books in English so I stocked up: Victoria Holt, of course, and lots of mysteries.
The last day we were in Panama we went to visit the Miraflores Locks. We spent the better part of a day there. Watched a movie about the building of the Locks and marveled at the work that had been done. We went out by the locks to watch the ships coming through. Sometimes there would be two smaller ships in the same lock other times there would be just one ship that only just fit. It seemed like there were merely inches between the ship and the sides of the lock.
We watched the “mules”, they are like little train engines, that help the boats through the locks.
Before the lock’s gates opened or closed whistles would blow, bells would clang and people would scurry about. Some crossing over the locks on small cat walks. It seemed like they would just make it before the walks started to move with the gate under it. The gates would fold completely back against the walls of the locks.
We watched the water going out of the locks and the ships getting lower and lower, then the massive gates of the locks would open and the ship would sail through. When the doors closed the locks would fill with water again, waiting for the next ship. When the ships first came into the lock all we could see would be the hull, as the water went out and the ship lowered we could see people on the decks of the ship with their cameras, we would wave and they waved back as we all took pictures.
It was a sight we would never forget.
After getting the confirmation date all the guys piled into one of the vans and went to the docks to complete the paper work. See one person, pay, get a stamp take it to someone else more stamps and signatures. Finally it was all done, just the final stamp when the vehicles showed up at the boat.
The kids and I just relaxed. They rode their bikes all over the campground looking for new bugs to bring home. A lot of time was spent in the pool; this was the cleanest everyone had been since we left home. (We do have a shower in the motorhome but we take VERY QUICK showers to conserve water.)
We brought a lot of magazines with us from home: Good Housekeeping, Redbook, Family Circle, Playboy etc. Still don’t think Playboy is intellectual. I was reading them cover to cover - including all the recipes and every single ad. I’d never looked at the ads before. From time to time we had given magazines to people we met along the way. They were a good ice breaker. Also on one of our trips into town we had discovered a used book store that sold books in English so I stocked up: Victoria Holt, of course, and lots of mysteries.
The last day we were in Panama we went to visit the Miraflores Locks. We spent the better part of a day there. Watched a movie about the building of the Locks and marveled at the work that had been done. We went out by the locks to watch the ships coming through. Sometimes there would be two smaller ships in the same lock other times there would be just one ship that only just fit. It seemed like there were merely inches between the ship and the sides of the lock.
We watched the “mules”, they are like little train engines, that help the boats through the locks.
Before the lock’s gates opened or closed whistles would blow, bells would clang and people would scurry about. Some crossing over the locks on small cat walks. It seemed like they would just make it before the walks started to move with the gate under it. The gates would fold completely back against the walls of the locks.
We watched the water going out of the locks and the ships getting lower and lower, then the massive gates of the locks would open and the ship would sail through. When the doors closed the locks would fill with water again, waiting for the next ship. When the ships first came into the lock all we could see would be the hull, as the water went out and the ship lowered we could see people on the decks of the ship with their cameras, we would wave and they waved back as we all took pictures.
It was a sight we would never forget.
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