First, these were used barrels. I am not sure exactly hat they had been used for but they had obviously been for storage or transport of some liquid, or more precisely, some gelatinous substance as there was still a good bit of residual of it left in the tank. It was a slimy, slightly oily gel that clung to the sides and bottoms of the barrels. Not a lot, but enough that it would require a good rinsing out. And remember, we have no access to pressurized water such as a garden hose out on the island that we could just blast it out with.
Second, the lids of the barrels, which would be vertical in the final assembly (the barrels were to lay on their sides on the tank stands) were held to the top of the barrel with a circular vise-clamp. Both of our lid clamps were quite rusty, but worse yet, was the finding that the lever on one of them that pulled the vise shut, had rusted off completely making it useless. We brought it to Richard's attention and asked for another. He didn't have one. Mike and I tired to brainstorm any way of drawing the clamp closed and securing it; wire it closed? drill a small hole and cotter pin it? None of them were truly secure and would probably not contain the point stresses we would need once we snapped the vise-clamp shut. Finally, Richard suggested he weld it. Hell, why didn't he offer that in the first place? Half an hour and one weld later, we were good to go.
We returned to the dock where the guys from Constructors Panama had loaded the boat. One big difference between buying construction materials stateside and down in Panama is the sand. We go up to Home Depot or Lowes and buy sand and it comes all pretty and white and pre-washed in nice rectangular paper bags. Not so in Bocas. The grey dirty sand is hand shoveled one at a time by workers into white woven nylon sacks which are then given a twist and it's good to go. Thirty of those were piled into the hull of the long boat as well as all the cement and rest of our treasures. Mike settled himself into a fairly comfortable niche in in the sand bags and I sat on the edge of the gunnel. It was a glorious, sunny day with tropical blue skies and a light breeze. Spectacular. The world was starting to feel OK.
Note in the above photo you can see the sacks of sand under Mike as well as the two drums, one that he leaning against, and the other upright one in the foreground. The welded metal lid clamp can be seen separating the black lid from the blue barrel.
A better view of the barrel, corrugated metal in the front of the boat, and a slightly better perspective of the boat itself.
Just a couple of random shots of places along the islands that form the Bocas del Toro archipelago. This really is a magical, dream-like place. Like I said, things seemed to be looking up.
"Seemed" was the operative word.
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