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Introduction The Sofia, as I had known her, was about to change.We were on an approach to the Panama Canal, a major world port accessible and liberally trafficked by travelers from around the world. Most of our recent communications with prospective new crew members dealt with the logistics of meeting the ship there for her much-touted South Pacific crossing. We were expecting the arrival of about a dozen full-paying new crew in Panama and anticipating picking up several more hitchhiking future Sofians in the bargain. Young explorers would be congregating in this busy and fascinating hub. For many the Canal transit was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. For others Panama, a duty-free port, housed every imaginable decadence at a decidedly agreeable price. Needless to say, the Canal Zone was a veritable buzz of activity and energy. In Panama the Sofia would find herself unwittingly enmeshed in the social and political ramifications of the effort by the United States to hand over control of the Canal to the Panamanians. Years earlier, in a college sociology class, I had learned that during a revolution, somewhere between the tearing down of the old order and the construction of a new one, there exists an inescapable interim period of total chaos. This aptly described our ship’s Panamanian tour. The experience would segue neatly into the Sofia’s wholly unexpected “welcome” at her first landfall of the crossing— c h a p t e r 6 “¿Dónde Está American Embassy?” What the Travel Brochures Don’t Tell You: Costa Rica, Panama, and the Galapagos Politics. The diplomatic name for the law of the jungle. —ely culbertson 145 the historic and renowned Galapagos Islands. Around this time I began to accept the certainty that we of the schooner Sofia were existing in a very separate reality.  journal entry Archipiélago de Galapagos Ecuador Sud America 0º 54 S. 89º 30 W I note the latitude and longitude because it is epic. Each lifetime has events that mark a sterling accomplishment. For a sailor one such occasion is the crossing of the equator.This journal entry is my first ever from the Southern Hemisphere. It’s a moment worth recording, and our voyage into this bottom half of the world is commemorated in time-honored tradition. We on the Sofia celebrate our crossing with the ceremonial “shellback” initiation. Sailors crossing the equator for the first time are subjected to an age-old ceremony that simulates prostrating oneself before the sea gods and involves ridiculous and elaborate costumes and a litany of pompous ramblings interspersed with theatrical blessings. This is all delivered in the form of irreverent melodramatic soliloquies. There’s always a handful of brave souls who continue the tradition by christening their passage with the piercing of an ear. In days of yore a solid gold ring dangling from a lobe was not only recognized as the symbol of a veteran seaman but often served as a sailor’s best travel insurance as well. Once a seaman had crossed into an unknown and presumably uncivilized area, the loop of precious metal could serve as collateral or payment for a proper burial, if necessary. Although most of us carry some cash and have secured proper documentation , many a Sofian still chooses to be so consecrated during the festivities . Our crew uses a cork, a sail needle, and a shot of tequila. Voyagers of bygone days were resigned to putting their faith in charms and benedictions to ensure safe passage.They had little else to rely on.We Sofians however , have already had our adventure lose this aspect of its foreign intrigue. In the past several months we have learned for ourselves one absolute truth—nothing is certain out here. There are no hard and fast rules, no guarantees, no sure-fire safeguards. Modern-day sailors possess no magic talisman. But we reckon that we’d better not dare the omnipotent fates. So we observe the protocol, perform the rite, and bow to superstition. We do 146 Costa Rica, Panama, and the Galapagos this while acknowledging that if we are successful in cajoling old King Neptune over to our side, he will likely be standing here alone. Apart from our own substantial guts and guile, the benevolent good graces of the sea spirits are now the best that we can hope to have in our corner. And that had...

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