During the overnight of 31 May and 1 June, 1969, Biddle transited the Panama Canal and entered the Pacific Ocean. I took the picture above of passage through the locks at sunset.
We had arrived at the canal early on 31 May. Biddle was anchored at the entrance by 0630. According to my journal, we were anchored adjacent to a Soviet merchant ship, named something like Siltan Stanski.
A previous post had estimated that on 30 May we were somewhere between Jamaica and Panama, which are about 1,000 miles apart. At breakfast on 31 May, according to my journal, Biddle navigator LT “Bud” Daniels had commented, “I really don’t think the Captain believed me last night when I told him I didn’t know where we were.” Apparently, I wasn’t the only one kinda guessing.
We ended up where we were supposed to be and on time . . . maybe. Based on where we were in line to go through the Canal, we were not going to start to do so until 1630, which meant no liberty ashore in Panama City. For many of the days before we arrived at the Canal, those who had done it before and had enjoyed liberty ashore shared with us newbies lurid — and I mean, disgusting — tales of what we might see. I think it is probably fortunate that, not having seen what they described, I have no memory of stuff I wish I had never seen . . . at least, not from Panama.
Biddle started its transit even a little later, at 1700. My journal entry for 2200 31 May reported that Biddle was in the middle of Gatun Lake, not even halfway through the Canal. By the time I awoke on 1 June, we were through the Canal and in the Pacific Ocean.
CAPT Olsen, in a section of BIDDLEGRAM #2, gave a much more lyrical account:
“. . . [W]e arrived at the Atlantic end of the Panama Canal on a lovely, sunlit day and anchored at Colon to await our turn to start our transit which began about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. We were lifted through the first series of locks, entered Gatun Lake just about dark and anchored because ship traffic up ahead was moving slowly. About two hours later we weighed anchor and began the first night transit of the Canal I have ever experienced. I shall always remember it. [I, on the other hand, was probably in the rack.]
“It was a windless, starry night; the temperature was just right; and the ship glided through the ghostly silence, in many areas seemingly just a dozen feet from the bank of the Canal. It was what I’d imagine the Garden of Eden would be like – without Eve, of course! As we neared the Pacific end, the channel narrowed and we found the sides of the Canal brightly-lighted with closely-spaced, blue florescent lights, just three or four feet high, which made the water glimmer like a mirror.
“We completed the transit at 3:30 in the morning, moored at Rodman Naval Station, but stayed only long enough to fuel before departing for Hawaii. [No chance for the swimsuit detail mentioned in his earlier BIDDLEGRAM.]
“As we left the Canal Zone and steamed south into the Gulf of Panama, we came within 400 miles of the Equator. Crossing the Equator is an historic event in the lives of men who go to sea and though we didn’t cross it this time, we hope to later in our cruise.” (But that’s another story, for later.)