A giant conch like the kind you find in the waters off Bocas.
We took off rowing and I felt relieved that we were leaving for home. My body had not yet recovered from the battering it received from swinging that ax or from the continual sharpening of the tool with a small file, which was the only time I’d had any rest lately. While heading home my thoughts returned to Pug, my wife and the newborn baby boy. There was absolutely no conversation with my so-called partner for more that an hour during the entire time. Continue reading
These are Pacific reef sharks like the ones that hunted me. Image.
During the next few daysI I found myself still laboring at the entrance to that small river bed where I had felled the giant tree. The trips in the loaded canoe with the cut up branches of the tree that had grown to cover the sky in the company of like trees of its size, made me more diligent in cleaning the large branches and cutting the wood that would feed the fire and make another mound of the precious coal used for cooking. All the time I pondered having the opportunity to have my own piece of land and being able to live in these beautiful woodlands, Continue reading
Image is from our friends at casabocas.com
Our first stop was an island where this man with a heavy Westindian accent landed us since he sat behind me steering the small craft around the watery road he seemed to know by heart. At first glance I could tell that it was his pet spot or his “money maker charcoal pit.” I discovered that he made money off making charcoal from the giant mangrove forests on these islands.
After landing he seemed to become a different person or someone that really did not want me to know him fully. His secretive actions made me become suspicious of his motives right away. Although I had not really seen anyone in Colon or in Panama make charcoal for cooking purposes, I had lived the early part of my young life close to a neighbor who bought the product to sell to the neighborhood. Continue reading