Panama Canal Cruise: A Journey Through Engineering, Nature, and Human Connection
As a child, I wasn’t very social. I spent most of my time reading books and National Geographic, lost in stories of far-off places, dreaming of one day seeing them for myself. Now, as an adult, I’m living those dreams, one trip at a time.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I set out to experience one of those dreams: cruising through the original Panama Canal.
We set sail from San Diego, California, on a Thursday, heading south. Our journey took us along the Pacific coast, stopping first in Mexico at Puerto Vallarta, Huatulco, and Puerto Chiapas, then continuing through Guatemala and El Salvador before reaching Costa Rica.
We had to skirt around Hurricane Priscilla. Immediately after came Tropical Storm Raymond. The storms caused flooding, landslides, and tragically, lives were lost. Our captain assured us we would take a different route to Puerto Vallarta to keep everyone safe. When we arrived, the streets were flooded, yet the people of Mexico were already hard at work cleaning up their city.
As we continued south, we saw more storm damage. Despite that, our next two stops in Mexico were delightful, and the people were as kind and resilient as always. Clean-up crews worked alongside locals, who were running their businesses as usual.
In Huatulco, we hired a boat captain who took us around the many coves and beaches. As we sailed, Captain Isidro shared stories of his life, the rich soil, and the local food. He laughed as he told us that if anyone goes hungry in Hualtulco, they must be lazy. With such fertile land and abundant sources of protein, including, yes, iguana, he said, there was no excuse.
Our stop in Guatemala was lovely. We toured the Jade Museum and learned about its history, then watched local artisans hand-weave intricate designs. The skill was mesmerizing. After soaking in Guatemala’s artistry and history, we continued south to El Salvador, eager to explore ancient Mayan ruins.
In Acajutla, we explored the Mayan ruins at San Andrés and the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Joya de Cerén. These rare sites preserve the homes of ordinary Mayans rather than those of royalty. Seeing an active archaeological dig was fascinating, and our guide Raul brought it to life with his storytelling and expertise.
While wandering under the covered ruins at Joya de Cerén, I spotted a bird perched on a wire and squealed in delight—‘A Mot-Mot!’ The others in our group stopped and began snapping pictures of the striking bird.
Raul smiled and explained that a pair had been nesting here for years. He also shared the bird’s importance in Mayan legend and Salvadoran culture. The Mot-Mot, or Torogoz, is El Salvador’s national bird, symbolizing freedom and liberty. I’ve seen it in Costa Rica as well, and this moment reminded me that the same creature can carry distinct meanings: ecological, mythical, and cultural, depending on where you encounter it.
Our stop in Costa Rica was quiet and familiar. Since we had visited many times before, we took the day to stroll through the little port city, talking with the Ticos. We stopped to chat with a local artist and a dressmaker, and were generously offered polished nuts for good luck. Each conversation added warmth to our visit. Content with our day of conversation and kindness, we returned to the ship, ready to continue our journey toward the Panama Canal.
We were up early the next morning, not wanting to miss a moment. Tea in hand for me, coffee for Mr. Whaldo, we took our spots on deck as the adventure began.
As we approached the Bridge of the Americas, spanning the canal’s entrance, we saw dozens of ships waiting their turn in the Gulf of Panama. Our cruise narrator explained that passage reservations must be filed and paid in advance. Though transiting the canal is expensive, it’s far less costly than the 7,800-mile journey around South America.
We spent the day on the third-deck promenade, enjoying a perfect view of everything happening around us. Before we could enter the locks, a pilot had to board to guide us through. His small boat pulled alongside, and he climbed aboard with practiced ease, greeting us all with a bright smile and a cheerful “Good morning.” I didn’t know it yet, but that welcome set the tone for the day.
As we entered the first lock, a small rowboat with two crew members pulled up beside us to toss ropes attached to cables. The canal crew secured them and shut the massive waterproof doors behind us. The cables connected to powerful electric “mules” running on tracks along both sides, keeping the ship perfectly aligned.
From our vantage point, we were eye-level with the ground crew. One of the mules was right next to us, and its engineers waved and joked with us as we rose with the water. The canal crew’s friendliness transformed a technical procedure into an adventure we could actively share in.
As we continued on our way, we eventually went to the other side of the ship to get a different perspective. Depending on which side of the ship we were on, we would ultimately pass other ships heading in the opposite direction in the locks. Most of these were cargo ships. Crew members were out on their ship’s decks, waving and calling greetings, while passengers on balconies and all levels of our ship returned smiles and greetings. In that moment, the canal felt alive with shared energy and connection.
At the Miraflores Locks, we raised a total of 54 feet. As we moved upward, the mules that I named “Little Engines That Could” kept pace, climbing the tracks beside us. Each level brought new waves, smiles, and conversations.
Crossing the Miraflores Lake to the Pedro Miguel Locks raised us another 30 feet. We watched the same careful process unfold: rowboats, cables, and more grinning canal workers.
We then cruised through the historic Culebra Cut, one of the most dangerous sections during construction due to unstable terrain and intense heat. Our ship’s travel expert narrated the history as we passed through.
The scenery was lush and alive with birds and even a few deer. Eventually, we entered Gatun Lake, the man-made lake formed by the Gatun Dam.
Gatun Lake, covering 166 square miles and sitting 82 to 87 feet above sea level, is alive with wildlife. Its forested islands and surrounding rainforest shelter over 100 species of mammals, more than 100 species of reptiles and amphibians, and over 500 species of birds. Cruising slowly through this diverse ecosystem, we even spotted alligators gliding past. It was a reminder that, even amid such an immense feat of engineering, nature persists vibrant and alive.
In the distance, we could see massive ships using the newer locks built in 2016. From afar, it was fascinating to watch them rise and fall, even if we couldn’t see the mechanics up close.
At the Agua Clara Locks, the final passage, we were slowly lowered back to sea level. The enormous gates and rushing water reminded us of the immense power controlling the canal's flow. Crew members waved and called out greetings, just as they had at every lock along the way, and passing ships heading in the opposite direction joined in the shared chorus of smiles and waves. Gliding beneath the Atlantic Bridge in Colón, we felt the excitement of leaving the canal behind and entering the open Caribbean Sea, a sense of accomplishment and wonder washing over us.
Once in open water, we sailed toward Aruba, though Hurricane Melissa forced another reroute to Fort Lauderdale. None of that mattered. My childhood dream of experiencing one of humanity’s most outstanding engineering achievements had come true.
We’ve not even been back a week, and I’m already daydreaming about the experience. Yes, it was a fantastic engineering feat, but what surprised me most wasn’t just the movement of water or the tight squeeze between concrete walls, or the beautiful and diverse landscape, but, honestly, I’m more struck by the people along the way.
Passengers leaned over their balconies, cameras ready, waving to those on ships passing in the opposite direction. Crewmembers smiled, called out greetings, and laughter carried across the humid air. For brief moments at each lock, we were all part of something larger than our individual journeys, connected by the rising and falling water and the shared joy of discovery.
The Panama Canal is not just an engineering marvel. Alongside the movement of water and ships, it revealed moments of curiosity, kindness, and connection between people from all over the world. This cruise reminded me that, despite our differences, we are fundamentally alike, and human connection is the most rewarding part of our travels.
- J.S. Whaldo
