Sail for Science: Sharing Ocean Data Collection Knowledge at Shelter Bay Marina

An important part of our project “Sail for Science” aboard SV Oceanolog is connecting with fellow sailors—and not just over sundowners at the bar or grilled fish by the barbecue. While casual conversations often spark interest, we also love taking things a step further by organizing presentations and sharing our mission more formally.

During our stay at Shelter Bay Marina (Colon, Panama), we hosted just such an event in the marina lounge. I gave a presentation on our two-year expedition through the Caribbean Sea and introduced our CTD (Conductivity, Temperature, Depth) measuring system—the heart of our citizen oceanography work.

The talk covered current methods of collecting oceanographic data, from traditional ship-based CTD systems to autonomous Argo floats. I highlighted the gaps that still exist, particularly in coastal and island regions, and explained how small vessels like ours can play a vital role in closing those gaps.

Our live demo of the CTD system generated a lot of enthusiasm. Several attendees expressed interest in participating or even replicating our methods. The main hurdle, however, remains the cost—CTD systems are still relatively expensive for private cruisers. We discussed the need for funding mechanisms that could support sailors in contributing valuable data, such as grants channeled through research institutions.

Using sailboats to collect ocean data is not only cost-effective, but also has an incredibly low carbon footprint. It’s a sustainable model for grassroots science—and we hope to see it grow.

With time, we believe this project can become part of a global citizen science movement powered by the wind and driven by curiosity. After all, who better to help study the oceans than those already living on them?

Watching Giants Pass: Panama Canal’s Miraflores Locks

As sailors, few feats of engineering inspire more awe than the Panama Canal—a waterway that connects not only oceans but entire worlds. So during our stopover in Panama, the crew of SV Oceanolog made a pilgrimage to the Miraflores Visitors Center, a front-row seat to the maritime marvel that has shaped global trade and navigation for over a century.

Arriving at the center, we were immediately struck by the scale of the operation. From the observation deck, we watched in fascination as massive car ships, tankers, and bulk carriers slowly transited the Miraflores Locks, rising and falling like leviathans tamed by human ingenuity. For sailors accustomed to narrow island anchorages and coral reefs, it was surreal to see vessels the size of city blocks lifted and lowered by nothing more than gravity, gears, and water.

Inside the center, we explored exhibits detailing the canal’s construction, its complex lock systems, and its environmental significance. But beyond the mechanics and history, our visit brought a new layer of reflection. The canal represents not just a shortcut between oceans, but a symbol of human persistence, cooperation, and adaptation. It reminded us of the importance of ocean-connected infrastructure—and of the delicate balance between industry and environment that must be maintained.

As we left the center and returned to Oceanolog, we carried with us a deeper appreciation for the canal, and for the global marine network we, in our small way, are also part of. Watching the giants pass through Miraflores, we were reminded that every boat, big or small, is connected by the same blue highways.

Old Stones and New Perspectives: Exploring Casco Viejo

After weeks surrounded by sea and palm-fringed islands, the crew of SV Oceanolog traded the sound of waves for cobblestones as we stepped into the heart of Panama City’s historic district—Casco Viejo. This UNESCO World Heritage site is a captivating blend of colonial architecture, colorful plazas, fading grandeur, and vibrant street life.

Wandering its narrow streets, we felt like time travelers: every corner told a story. Restored mansions now house cafés and boutique hotels, while weathered buildings still wear their centuries with quiet dignity. The contrast between peeling paint and polished marble, broken shutters and rooftop cocktails, was oddly harmonious. It was a place where the past didn’t compete with the present—it simply lived alongside it.

One of the highlights of our visit was climbing the bell tower of the San Francisco Church, one of the oldest churches in the city. After navigating a winding staircase and several creaky wooden steps, we emerged to a panoramic view that took our breath away. From the top, we could see all of Casco Viejo spread out below—terracotta rooftops, lush courtyards, bustling plazas—and beyond, the glittering skyline of modern Panama City and the distant curve of the Panama Canal.

It was a moment of perspective, both literal and symbolic. Up there, wind in our hair and history underfoot, we were reminded of the intricate connections between land and sea, old and new, adventure and reflection.

Casco Viejo offered us more than a break from the boat—it was a walk through centuries of culture, resilience, and reinvention. And as we descended from the bell tower and made our way back to the marina, we carried with us not only the view, but the sense of how every voyage—no matter how salty—needs an anchoring in history.