One of the largest and most difficult engineering projects ever undertaken, the Panama Canal, was begun by the French in 1881, to cut a 48-mile ship passage across the Isthmus of Panama and create one of the most significant waterways on earth, connecting the Pacific Ocean and the Atlantic Ocean (via the Caribbean Sea). The conditions in Panama were formidable, with vast tracks of virgin jungle to clear, unrelenting pestilence, heat, and disease to confront, and immense engineering challenges, which forced the French to halt construction in failure and bankruptcy, and tremendous loss of life. The United States took over the project in 1904 and spent a grueling decade to build the canal, which officially opened on August 15, 1914. Now, as a key conduit for international maritime trade, ships can pass through the canal in a day, thus avoiding the lengthy and hazardous Cape Horn route around the southernmost tip of South America via the treacherous Drake Passage or Strait of Magellan.
Onboard Insignia, our passage was a celebrated all-day event, with knowledgable speakers providing ongoing commentary throughout the day on the ship’s public address, and passengers clamoring for the best viewing. With our suite in the bow, we took advantage of our prime location and hosted an open house during the transit, for those of our friends who wanted to get, arguably, as good a view as that on the bridge.
The Canal has two original lanes, with a third currently under construction to accommodate wider vessels and scheduled to open in early 2016. There are locks at each end to lift ships up to Gatun Lake, a large artificial lake 85 feet above sea level, created to reduce the amount of excavation work required for the canal. From the Pacific Ocean, where we entered, we passed through, first, the Miraflores locks, then Pedro Miguel Locks, before cruising through the Calebra Cut to Gatun Lake, and exiting the Gatun Locks that opened to the Atlantic Ocean.
Over a hundred years later, the mechanics of the canal are still mostly original and very efficient. The ships are guided through the locks by cables attached to the electric locomotive “mules”, named after the animals traditionally used to cross the Isthmus of Panama. They run on a rail system that leads the ships up and through the locks, keeping the ships in proper relation to the locks’ structure, essential for a safe and expeditious transit. And though other methods have been tried to attach these cables to the ships, still the most effective and the most dangerous way, is to launch rowboats into the canal and throw cables from the ship to the waiting boatmen, to then attach to the mules.
Our transit was an all-day spectacle, made even more authentic by the sweltering heat and humidity that we endured on the terrace until, unlike the workers who suffered agonizingly when building the canal, we could thankfully escape within our air-conditioned suite. A day or so later, our friend and neighbor from home, Doug, who is interested in all things that mechanically promote travel, sent me photos he captured of our ship in transit, from the live internet webcams at the locks in real time, proving that, despite the passing of a century, this original marvel endures…and prevails.
Great Post. What a way to spend the day aboard!