Navigating the depths of a world wonder

Theresa Storm, For The Calgary Herald

PANAMA CANAL, PANAMA - As soon as I learned it was possible, it became the No. 1 priority on my Panama must-do list.While most folks see theeighth wonder of the world from high atop the decks of mega-cruise liners or from shore-side visitors centres, I embraced the opportunity to experience the natural wonders of the Panama Canal from a much smaller craft -- a solid, two-person, yellow plastic, sit-on-top Ocean Kayak (the kind available at resorts).I meet Nodiel Sanchez, a naturalist guide employed by the Gamboa Rainforest Resort, at the Panama Canal in the heart of Soberania National Park. We greet each other warmly, having already spent a few hours the day prior exploring the country's abundant flora and fauna from the resort's signature aerial tram and on a motorboat wildlife safari into the canal.As I reluctantly don the bulky orange lifejacket I'm required to wear, I nervously peer into the murky water of the lagoon lapping against Gamboa's dock, wondering where the crocodiles lurk. Nearby, a red-and-white sign warns "No swimming.""Don't worry," Sanchez reassures, the plan becoming evident as he loads our kayak onto the resort's powerboat.It zips us northward, past fully-loaded freighters plying the busy shipping lane of the canal's Gaillard Cut, and into a quiet inlet off Gatun Lake, where we prepare to launch our kayak from a tiny sand beach.Capt. Benjamin waves farewell, advising the boat will accompany us at a distance to ensure our safety and whisk us back to the resort at journey's end, and thankfully, deliver a much-needed cold drink halfway through our paddle.Pushing off, we coast away from the thickly vegetated shore, the sounds of the Panamanian jungle becoming audible as the powerboat recedes.Today we will paddle for about two hours, nothing too strenuous, Sanchez advises."You will see the backwaters, inlets and coves of the canal, where we get to explore, and, so, go slowly," he says.Almost effortlessly, our paddles slice through the canal's calm fresh water like it's melted butter. The shallow coves we are skimming over, Sanche zadvises, are about 3.6 metres deep, whereas the canal is 15 to 18 and the lake is up to 30metres deep.There is green everywhere, in every imaginable shade. Even the water is a thick opaque green, making it impossible to see the peacock bass, snook and tarpon that draw sports fishermen here.Like adventurers of yore, there is no one here with us but Mother Nature in all her copious glory, tumbling from terra firma into the water's edge.Although I have often dreamed of living, for a time, Robinson Crusoe-style on an uninhabited tropical isle, I would not want to step foot out of the kayak into the mangroves and near impenetrable 80- to 90-year-old jungle lining the channels we paddle.My imagination cringes at the thought of the flora and fauna one may have to battle.The afternoon passes too quickly as we happily make discoveries in this remote wild where few go. The only reminder of civilization comes in those jarring moments, when from time to time, a massive ship passes in the canal behind, dwarfing us to the size of an ant.