Gary and I are on Regent Seven Seas Cruises m/s Mariner, transiting the Panama Canal northward from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic. The transit has three stages: progressing up a series of locks that raises our luxury cruise ship twenty-six meters above the Pacific, crossing the Continental Divide and Gatun Lake, then being lowered by another series of locks into the Atlantic. As it was for the first ship through the Canal in 1914, the passage is a carefully choreographed display of man’s engineering ingenuity.

Before dawn, our transit begins as we sail under Panama City’s Bridge of the Americas. With a full Panamanian moon shining above the still-sleeping jungle, we reach the Miraflores locks. Leaning over the rail of our balcony to look at the lock, I see many fellow passengers doing the same. The ship’s populace is up uncharacteristically early.

As it has since 1915, a manually operated arrow indicates which of the two lanes our ship will use. With a whirr, electric locomotives called mules are set in position. Linemen approach in a rowboat. They tie the ship to the locomotives with lines that will keep the ship in position in the locks. There’s less than a meter of clearance from the lock walls on either side. Like a royal procession flanked by its honour guard, we enter the lock at a stately pace. The 730 ton mitre gates close behind us, five meter wide culverts open and rushing water fills the lock. Even though the Canal connects two bodies of salt water, it is fresh water from Gatun Lake moving the ships. We rise, almost imperceptibly.

Since Balboa crossed it in 1513 to discover the Pacific Ocean, this narrow isthmus has been a choice route for travelling between the oceans. The French began building the Canal in the late 1800’s. However, they were doomed to failure due to inappropriate engineering and rampant outbreaks of malaria and yellow fever. The Americans supported Panama’s declaration of independence from Columbia in 1903 and paid $40 million for the rights to build the canal. Chief Engineer John F. Stevens began, not by digging, but by improving the infrastructure and disease controls. He installed water and sewer systems in Panama City and Colon, paved streets, and sprayed standing water to eliminate mosquitoes bearing the deadly diseases that decimated the previous work forces. Only once those measures were complete, did construction pick up where the French left off.

After rising through two locks, shedding the lines to the mules, and leaving our tugboat behind, we cross Miraflores Lake. On the east side runs the Panama Railroad, which was essential for moving men, equipment and debris during the construction. At the third lock, Pedro Miguel, the linemen reconnect the lines from ship to mules, the tugs straighten us, and the waters lift us up. The process, though slow, is fascinating.

The bulk of the labour force for building the Canal was recruited from the West Indies. At the project’s peak, 16000 people a day were working and none were slaves. Unskilled workers were paid in silver; skilled workers got gold. Explosions and landslides sometimes caused two to three hundred deaths a day and dealing with the bodies was a major problem. At one point, the little-known solution was to pack the bodies into kegs and sell them as cadavers to medical schools; a bizarre source of income to offset building expenses. The human cost was tragically high; over 30,000 workers lost their lives.

After the Pedro Miguel lock, we enter the narrow Gaillard or Culebra Cut. This long, narrow channel was created by digging down through the mountains of the Continental Divide to the level of the lake. Tons of debris had to be hauled away in specially designed train cars. The steep hillsides are terraced to reduce run-off but dredging the channel still requires constant dredging. When you hear about the Canal being widened, this is the stretch being worked on. At the end of the Cut, we enter Gatun Lake.

When created by damming the Chagres River, Gatun was one of the largest artificial lakes in the world. Its dam generates all the electricity required to run the Canal and the locomotives. Panama’s abundant rainfall replenishes the fresh water lost from Gatun with each transit. Lush, jungle covered islands scatter the calm lake. Some have inviting grass huts perched under palm trees on their shores. Crocodiles live in these waters but we don’t see any.

At sunset we enter the Gatun locks, which will lower us back to sea level. For the final time, the choreography of linemen and mules and gates repeats. Birds swoop around the ship and the jungle on either side darkens. As the last lock empties, our level drops. The gates open, and we sail from the eighth wonder of the modern world into the Atlantic Ocean.