2 weeks after our transit, it’s still a topic of conversation and focus. I just finished putting together a YouTube video about it (mostly to help other small boats see what it’s like) and the blog ideas keep percolating. Feel free to disregard!

A number of the requirements presented to us through our agent revolved around the comfort of the canal advisor. We needed to provide shade. A working marine toilet. Internet, though not mentioned initially, was also asked for once the advisor was on board - luckily we could comply with that request. Sealed, bottled water. Hot meals.

Shade was easy. We have an awning that stretches from the mast to just aft of the boom gallows, and we’d be able to leave that up for almost the entire transit.

A working marine toilet? Again, easy. We live on board, after all, and a head is a requirement in my book for comfortable living.

Internet? We’ve just added that capability. Fine.

Now comes the water and food part. Normally I’d not worry. Bottled water is easy enough to purchase (once we get over the gut-wrenching amount of plastic that entails). Feeding people is part of my nature. What’s the concern? 

It was stressed, more than once, that if an advisor isn’t satisfied with the food (or water) on hand, they could place an order for delivery of said items, all at our expense. Friends had talked with another cruiser who had had their advisor not happy with the provided meal and instead chose to order food from land, delivered within Lake Gatun. Total cost? Over $700.

To say I was worked up about this might be an understatement. This transit was already a budget buster, the 2 day affair by itself already closing in on what we usually spend in a month. I had no desire to add another line item to that expense. But what kind of food is expected, other than “hot”? What if an advisor is a vegetarian, or has celiac disease, or is deadly allergic to garlic?

Especially challenging from a mental standpoint was the “HOT” requirement. Temperatures in Panama hover between 80 and 95, with humidity regularly pegging in the low 90% range. All we want to eat is cold things like salads or sandwiches, if we’re even wanting food at all. I needed to shift my mental game.

And then there’s the space and time conundrum. 

The first and last couple of hours would be busy ones for all of us. All of us had on-deck jobs to do when in the locks, meaning there was no free person to be working in the galley either cooking or cleaning up. The advisor was coming on board right around 3 pm - was lunch required? Both? Was eating going to happen immediately, or after we went through the locks? What did I need to be prepared for?

Blog posts and videos we watched to try to get a sense of what a Panama Canal transit entailed were remarkably light on any details or advice around the food thing. A general question posed on the local WhatsApp group netted a few helpful responses with detailed menus (and a few other replies that didn’t do much to quell my nerves, like the one that said this was an outdated requirement that needs to change), but the fact remained that we were traveling on a far smaller boat than most people with a far smaller refrigerator. 

I took a big breath, planned 3 meals with alternatives if needed, and got to work.

I needed meals that could be prepared either ahead of time or that could easily be made last minute with minimum fuss. We were looking at a lunch/dinner on the first day, and then breakfast and lunch on the second day. What our advisor ate would be what we ate.

We opted against paper plates and plastic silverware in an effort to reduce the garbage we’d generate. This meant lots of dish washing and drying and putting away, but at least the dishes could be safely stashed in the sink to be dealt with later if needed. Water usage wasn’t a worry since we were basically going from marina to marina.

Day 1, a Sunday. We’d be picking up the advisor at 3 pm, a strange time for eating in my book but you never know. I figured it was best to make sure food was ready on arrival (or soon thereafter). I made a lasagna after breakfast and put it in the oven after we ate our lunch, timing it to be done by 3:30. It could stay in the switched-off oven until we needed it.

We’d unearthed our cooler bags and purchased a couple of bags of ice as one of the last items done before leaving the dock. Water bottles and one bag of ice went in the cooler that stayed in the cockpit, while the second bag of ice was stashed in the better-insulated cooler in the hopes that it would last. (It did.)

I’d worried about everyone trying to eat at the same time, but that turned out not to be an issue. Advisor #1, Alfredo, chose to eat fairly soon after getting on board, as we were heading into the approaches of the Gatun locks. The rest of us were still full from a big lunch. He also appreciated being offered coffee and cookies an hour or so later, when we were waiting for the commercial ship ahead of us to motor into the third lock chamber.

He pronounced the lasagna “delicioso” and also confirmed the story - if he had not been happy, he’d have ordered food to be delivered. I’d definitely have pulled out many other stops before allowing that to happen, but still. Yikes.

Day 2. Ideas thought about and discarded included cold fruit and pastries (not hot), pancakes (too individual), make-ahead breakfast burritos (not enough fridge space), granola and yogurt (not hot). The BOGO deal on brioche rings at the grocery store clinched it - I’d be making French toast casserole for breakfast, with pineapple and Canadian bacon. Let’s bring in a taste of Vermont with Aprils Maple syrup! Bee and Jules helped me tear up the brioche into the baking pan the day before so the bread could dry out a bit. Lunch I’d see what our advisor preferred: a black bean and corn salad with chips, or pasta with garlic and beans.

Advisor #2, Guillermo, was deposited on board half an hour before we were expecting him, but luckily I had coffee all ready to serve. He was happy to wait over an hour to eat breakfast, which we all ate at roughly the same time. There was plenty of time as we motored along Lake Gatun for leisurely cups of coffee and taking care of the washing up.

He chose the pasta lunch, asking for it to be served around 12:30. By his estimation (and according to our track), we’d be at the Pedro Miguel locks by 1. He asked for seconds.

That pasta with garlic and beans is a family favorite. It’s good hot, cold, or in between, which felt pretty perfect for the uncertain timing of when anyone might want to eat. The rest of us disappeared down below to grab a bowl on and off during the afternoon; by the time we’d finished tying up at the marina in Panama City, the huge pot was empty.

No Uber eats required. Whew!

A few things to note:

• Having food ready ahead of time, especially for the first meal, is helpful as you’ll likely be busy.

• Don’t think you all need to eat at the same time.

• If you want to serve not-hot food, offering an option for your advisor to choose hot if desired might be a good idea. On the other hand, you don’t want to be a short order cook.

• Snacks are welcome. Cold pineapple or other fruit, cookies, maybe chips or nuts

• Neither of our advisors was proactive in asking for food or drinks (other than the water that was easily available at their feet) but appreciated being offered. Next time I’d offer more frequently.

• There’s lots of down time between lock chambers and especially on Lake Gatun.

• It could be that the main criteria from the advisor standpoint is not feeling like food was an afterthought.

• Strongly advise getting any dishes done and put away before you pull into your final anchorage/marina, as all you’ll want to do is relax.

• Having a simple meal prepped ahead of time for arrival, either at Lake Gatun or your final destination, will be a gift to yourself. I can’t even imagine having the energy to go out to eat.