Don't Kill The Cow Too Quick - Bocas Bits & Pieces

A couple of hours after his wife left for Changuinola to stay with her sister, a stranger
came to Eduardo’s house offering a horse for sale. Eduardo, depressed by the
departure of his wife, bought the horse.
Feeling lonely that evening, Eduardo decided to seek company and rode his new horse
to town. His dog went with him.
It was after midnight when Eduardo mounted the horse and set off for home. As he
passed the light of the last house of town, he was overcome by guilt and a sense of
doom. He had bought the horse without his wife’s knowledge and had spent heavily on
rum for himself and on a woman who had joined him at his table.
“Well at least I bought a good horse,” Eduardo told himself. “Lucia will be pleased.”
Eduardo decided to see just how good a horse this was. Pulling a branch from a
roadside tree he beat on the flank of the horse and urged it on with the heels of his boots.

The horse went faster but not satisfied, Eduardo beat harder and it was then that the
horse turned his head and looking him in the eye said, “Hey stop that! Don’t you think I
have feelings?”
Eduardo fell from the horse and in a state of extreme terror ran on down the road. His
dog ran beside him.
When he could run no further, he climbed a tree. Fighting to get his breath, he looked
down at his dog and said, “It is the work of the Devil. Did you hear that? The horse
spoke to me.”
The dog looked up at his master and said. “I sure did Boss and he scared me too.”
Eduardo fell from the tree and died. The horse was never found and the dog never
spoke again.

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• Naitafon (Night of Fun) is a group of friends dedicated to recording g through
music and verse the folklore and lingua of the Creole and Guaymi peoples of Bocas.

Last month I had my gall bladder yanked out at the Mae Lewis Clinc.   Before the doctor
told me there was something wrong inside my vesicular biliar, I had not known where this
organ lived, let alone the Spanish word for it.

I say “yanked out” because that is what they do these days. The surgeon drills four holes
in your tummy, one of which is through your belly button. Through these he manipulates
knives and scissors to separate the GB from the where it is hung on the side of the liver.
Having made the separation, he grips the top of the GB and hauls it up and out through
your belly button. I know because I have watched the replay on video.

I was in hospital for 30 hours total. The first six hours nothing happened. They just
wanted to be sure I did not have a beer or hamburger before they worked on me. The
video shows the op took twenty minutes. The rest was recovery time.   The following
morning, I walked out and drove myself home.

The nurses were terrific.   Response time to my pressing my call bell was never more
than a minute.   They smiled (In the Florida hospital where I spent a month recuperating
from an infection, the nurses were not permitted to waste time and energy smiling, let
alone fractionizing with patients).

The Mae Lewis nurses were so friendly they felt like primas (cousins) by the time of my
leaving. The farewell breakfast of porridge, papaya, omelet etc was equal to Hotel
Nacional. We exchanged gifts. I gave them a box of chocolates and they gave me the
video to keep.

I am sure I will be back to Mae Lewis when other parts need repair or removing.    Oh!
one last thing, I never did like my old belly button. It had an unsightly mole on it. Now I
have a perfect button equal to Hollywood’s best and at no extra charge.

A couple of hours after his wife left for Changuinola to stay with her sister, a stranger
came to Eduardo’s house offering a horse for sale. Eduardo, depressed by the
departure of his wife, bought the horse.
Feeling lonely that evening, Eduardo decided to seek company and rode his new
horse to town. His dog went with him.
It was after midnight when Eduardo mounted the horse and set off for home. As he
passed the light of the last house of town, he was overcome by guilt and a sense of
doom. He had bought the horse without his wife’s knowledge and had spent heavily
on rum for himself and on a woman who had joined him at his table.
“Well at least I bought a good horse,” Eduardo told himself. “Lucia will be pleased.”
Eduardo decided to see just how good a horse this was. Pulling a branch from a
roadside tree he beat on the flank of the horse and urged it on with the heels of his
boots.

The horse went faster but not satisfied, Eduardo beat harder and it was then that the
horse turned his head and looking him in the eye said, “Hey stop that! Don’t you think I
have feelings?”
Eduardo fell from the horse and in a state of extreme terror ran on down the road. His
dog ran beside him.
When he could run no further, he climbed a tree. Fighting to get his breath, he looked
down at his dog and said, “It is the work of the Devil. Did you hear that? The horse
spoke to me.”
The dog looked up at his master and said. “I sure did Boss and he scared me too.”
Eduardo fell from the tree and died. The horse was never found and the dog never
spoke again.

------------------------------------------

• Naitafon (Night of Fun) is a group of friends dedicated to recording g through
music and verse the folklore and lingua of the Creole and Guaymi peoples of Bocas.

Eduardo Atencio, a Guaymi Indian, says he played marbles with me. It is his way of
reminding me we have the same number of years and could have played marbles
together, had we known each other back in the 1930s.
I asked Eduardo if he believed in obejas, (Witches). As I have found on a number of
occasions the answer started in the negative but as conversation continued changed
to the affirmative without the speaker being aware.
“No I no give no mind to obejas and espritus,   They went when the teachings of the
Lord come. The Lord he drive them out.” Eduardo told me.
“One night I go to Water Cay from Bocas and when I am between Isla Popa and where
I am going, a big boat come in front of me. The boat he has many lights and many
people talking but I can’t know what it is they say. It give me a big fright and I call on the
Lord and the boat he vanish.”
In Finca Valle, the farm Eduardo gave to his daughter Adela, there are two huge rocks,
each more than twenty feet in height and forty feet in girth. It is thought they were
thrown there by one of the past eruptions of Vulcan Baru.   Adela pointing to one of the
rocks told me that it is the home of a tuliabeja.
“If you are here in the evening you may hear her calling. At first she doesn’t make much
noise but sometimes she gets louder. Once she was so loud the ground shook. I was
frightened and ran all the way to my house.
I asked Eduardo if he had heard her.
“Many times I hear her.”
“Do you believe she is a spirit?”
”Sure I believe she a spirit. I hear her.”
Valentino Smith, a descendent of Bill Smith, the first Creole to settle in Bocas and
Jacinto Rodriquiez and his wife Octavia, Bugle Indians from Santa Catalina, have told
me of similar tuliabeja experiences.
Eduardo, Valentino and Jacinto were all born in the 1930’s. However, if you think it is
only those of us who are near our end who still believe in spirits in some form or other,
ask a young Bocas mother if she tied a red bracelet around the wrist of her new born
baby. The chances are she will say she did to protect her baby from being looked
upon by a person with ojos fuerte. Some pregnant ladies wear a red ribbon around
their waist to protect their baby prior to birth.
Danilio Lewis, a young man in his early thirties, was one of the first security guards for
Red Frog Beach Club on Isla Bastimentos, where his duties were to guard a bodega.
When other guards mentioned a ghostly lady in white walking at night from the beach
up through the property, he told them it was all in their minds until he too came to see
her. He saw her on several occasions but when bright lights were installed in the area,
she ceased to visit.

If any estranjeros have encountered a tuliabeja, I would appreciate hearing from
them. Truth only please, no fiction!

Kenya 1972

The Cape buffalo presented a perfect shot. A bull in his prime, he was potentially more
dangerous than any lion or elephant.

"Remember an inch below the boss" Tab Hanson breathed the words. Then, "God
damn it Mike; Get a grip of yourself. Stop shaking."   For the past fifteen years, Tab had
wondered what he had done to deserve such a child.

Kiprotich, Kenyan professional hunter and guide, stood three feet from Mike, his own
rifle, a magnum 4.5, aimed at the vital spot. So quick was Kip's reaction that to the
inexperienced ear it sounded as though there was only one shot. The buffalo sank to its
knees, took one last look at its killers and fell to on its side.

Moments later Tab took photographs of Mike and his prize; photographs that back home
in Cleveland would share space with similar photos of his son standing over the body of
a lion and beside the hulk of a dead elephant.

                                                           --------------------------

Teribe Territory , Panama 1992

(Note. The Teribe Indians live along the river of the small name which runs from the
mountains to join the Changuinola river at El Silencio.)

The motor sounded different, different from any Hiedo had ever heard. All outboard
engines belonging to the Teribe Indians were Yamahas, either 15hp or 25hp two
strokes. Whoever was coming up the River was not using a Teribe cayuco (canoe).
That was cause enough for Hiedo to warn Amanzio, the head of his village.
Any visitor to the Teribe must first obtain permission from the tribe's heredity King. If a
stranger had been expected, Hiedo would have been told before being sent to the
lookout post at Panajungle, the camp on the escarpment that until last year had been the
jungle training school for Noriega's special forces.

From escarpment Hiedo could observe the approaches to Bun-di. With no roads
leading into the territory, the river provided the only access.

Hiedo kept his eyes focused on the spot half a mile down river where the jungle gave
way to the base of the escarpment and waited for the cayuco to come into sight. From
that point the course of the river curved around the escapement and led to his
community. With two stretches of shallows to navigate, it took Teribe boatman ten
minutes to round the towering cliff. Someone with a lesser knowledge of the river would
make much slower progress.

The cayuco appeared. A man in police uniform stood in the front using a pole to fend
the bows from striking rocks in the shallow waters. Behind in line sat three others and
the cayuco's driver. The policeman and the boatman were black. The other three were
fair skinned, dressed in khaki and wearing broad brimmed hats. Turning, Hiedo ran to
the other side of the escarpment and with the speed of a mountain lion descended to his
village.

                                               ----------------------------------------

Village headman, Amanzio, was shaping an arrow out of pifa wood as Hiedo climbed
the notched tree trunk forming the ladder to the elder's house.

The old man listened to Hiedo's report and then spoke.

"Let them come to me. I will not go to the river to welcome those who come without
invitation. Go bring them to me"

It was mid day before the engine sound died and Amanzio knew the visitors were close.
He continued to work the rock hard wood fashioning an arrow head capable of
penetrating the shield of an armadillo. As always, when he shaped an arrow he relived
the hunts of his youth, the days when he was Hiedo's age and his legs were strong and
without pain.

From the shadow of his porch Amanzio watched the strangers slowly climb the path from
the river. At this hour all animals were resting in the shade. It was no wonder the jackets
of these strangers were soaked in sweat.

Hiedo led the way. Behind him came a tall overweight white man. Amanzio guessed his
age to be close to sixty. He was breathing heavily and stopping every twenty paces to
wipe the sweat from his face. A hunting rifle was slung from his shoulder. Next was the
policeman wearing the insignia of a sergeant and then a white woman, petite and frail,
and behind her the other man, who like the woman, seemed out of place in the jungle.

                                                     ----------------------------------

Tab stopped at the edge of the level ground facing the eleven houses of the community.
Looking about he saw no person and no movement.

"Go find the headman and bring him here." He ordered the policeman.

The policeman crossed the open space to the shade of the largest house. Looking up
at the porch, he spotted Amanzio.

"Buenas Tardes, Jeffe. The Gringo wants to speak to you." The policeman said.

"Who gave you permission to be here?" Amanzio asked.

"This is a letter from the Governor." The policeman climbed the notched trunk and
handed the paper to Amanzio, then realizing the old man could not read explained. "See
here is the governor's signature and here is his stamp. It says that the Gringo has
permission to shoot a jaguar in the Teribe territory."

"Tell him I say no. The animals belong only to the Teribe."

"Please! It will be to your good if you come down and speak with him." The policeman
pleaded.

"Let him to come up to me. I will not go down to him" Amanzio responded.

Tab climbed up the notched log with considerable difficulty, his large feet barely finding
purchase on the shallow cuts.

Sat on a wooden bench opposite the hawk nosed face of the village elder, Tab felt ill at
ease. Used to having his own way, he found it distasteful to have to negotiate with this
Indian. Moreover the Indian was looking him in the eye with an intensity that made Tab
fear the man was reading his mind.

Looking away Tab called the policeman to join them and translate.

"I need a guide to take us to the place where the jaguars are." The policeman
transalated.

Amanzio made no answer. Tab's anger grew and he fought to keep his temper.

"I have five hundred dollars for you when I have my jaguar skin."

The Indian gave no acknowledgment of having heard the offer.

Tab turned to the policeman. "Damn it! How much does he want for a jaguar?"

Before the policeman could put the question to Amanzio, the chief said "I do not offer
you the hospitality of my village because you have come here with evil intention. Go
back down the river."

When the strangers left Amanzio said to Hiedo, "That letter didn't come from the
governor. I have an agreement with him that no one harms the jaguars. I have promised
to protect them. Go follow these people and take your bow and arrow. You are to protect
the jaguars."

                                               -----------------------------------------

From behind the plantains at the river's edge, Hiedo saw the big man and the policeman
in conversation with Rito, the one nobody trusted. When Rito joined the others in the
cayuco, Hiedo hurried to the top of the escarpment.

From the cliff edge he watched the cayuco make its way down river. When it
disappeared from sight, he followed the noise of its engine and when the noise suddenly
stopped, he set off to investigate.

He soon came upon the fresh tracks of the strangers and had no difficulty in following.
They were headed in the direction of the rocks where the jaguar family was often to be
found.

The sun was already in its last quarter when the group slowed and moved forward at the
pace of a stalker. Rito leading, signaled the party to halt.   A male and female jaguar
and a single cub were lying on an outcrop of rock fifty yards up wind and unaware of
danger. The male presented a reasonable target.

Tab beckoned his son forward.

"Now steady Mike. We do this together." He whispered. "I will count three. Fire on
three."

Hiedo's arrow struck the big man's shoulder on the count of two. Tab screamed, the
jaguars fled and Hiedo turned to report back to Amanzio.

Darkness began to close on the jungle.

Pirates of the sixteenth to eighteen centuries buried gold and other treasure in our
lagoons and it is certain a fair quantity of the gold, silver and precious stones still lie
hidden on our shores. Shipwreck, death in a sea battle or capture and execution
prevented many from fulfilling the dream of returning to collect their spoils.

The English and French pirates and privateers hid their ships in the lagoons while waiting
news of Spanish treasure ships preparing to depart from Portobello and sail North East
on the Gulf Stream.

The Bocas Archipelago was the best hiding place West of Portobello.   The shallow
beaches were ideal for careening the ships to clean and caulk their hulls. The forests
provided hard wood lumber for repairs to hulls and the replacing of damaged spars.
There were fresh water springs, fruit trees, fish in abundance and forest animals for the
hunting. A course due East would meet with the Spanish galleons passing off shore on
the Gulf Stream.

Since those days, many have searched for the treasure. There are few records of any
being found but it is the nature of treasure seekers to avoid publicity and the attentions of
local authorities.

One known find was made by Manuel Acle and Irad Miller in the 1920's. They were
approaching the Zapatillas (two small islands on the outer edge of the Bocas lagoons)
from Crawl Cay on the way to hunt turtle when they saw the topmasts of a big boat
anchored on the ocean side the western Zapatilla. The two men went ashore and ran
across the island to find the ship hastily making sail. Left on the beach was a bucket of
gold coins which they took to William Canton, the British consul, who exchanged dollars
for the gold.

It is widely believed that Henry Morgan, the notorious English pirate who sacked both Old
Panama and Portobello, buried treasure either on the Zapatillas or Water Cay.

When burying treasure the pirates took care that no Indians knew its location. It was their
usual practice to take one Indian with them, telling him that he would be the keeper of the
treasure. When the burial was close to completion this man would be sacrificed in the
belief that his spirit would guard the site.

There is a belief still prevalent among locals that you should only search for treasure if you
have seen it in a dream, the dream being an indication that the spirits want you to have
gold.   If you do not first dream and you come upon the treasure you will die.

In 1909 Samuel Machore Sr, a pilot from Nicaragua formed a partnership with Jim Carr,
an American. They are said to have paid a John Pate of San Andres $800 for a map
showing the treasure location.

The partnership employed at least twelve men including a permanent cook. Their
endeavors came to a sudden end one evening when a ghostly white hand crossed Jim
Carr's face just as he reached the top of the ladder leading from the excavation. The
fright left him speechless and he died later that night in Bocas town.

*Carlos Reid
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*Tito Thomas, the owner of Hotel Bahia and lifetime resident of Bocas, tells of another
map story. A local man drew a treasure map and after making it appear old, sold it for
$250. In a dream that night, he saw his map and also the treasure. In the morning he
paid $500 to recover the map.

In the later 1920's a group of Chinese dug a slanting tunnel from near the first excavation.
They entertained the spirit by keeping a table spread with different types of food and
drink. After about six months, the Chinese left but not before the eldest of them had died
and been buried on the spot. Some believe that the Chinese found the treasure either
before or after sacrificing the old man to the treasure's spirit.

It is said there was a major find on Two Sisters Cay in 1956. A group of North Americans
with a large barge spent four months at the cay before departing without warning in the
middle of one night. They left behind lifting derricks and empty excavation.

I have a Creole friend who tells me he knows where treasure is buried on Water Cay.
The teller of the story wishes his name withheld and therefore I will just call him Mr. X. Mr.
X tells me that recently there have been several foreigners with metal detectors of varying
degrees of sophistication, who, having heard of his knowledge of supposed treasure
locations, have been pressing him for information. He is not ready to talk. He wants first
to be sure that once found, the treasure will not be whisked away from Panama on yacht
but will be duly reported and fairly distributed according to the law.

The location of the treasure in Water Cay was revealed to a friend of his in 1976 in a
dream in which a headless spirit gave a precise direction and measurement from a
certain tree. Together with the friend and some Indians to help with the digging Mr. X
went to Water Cay. They found the tree and started digging at the point indicated by the
spirit. They came up against a rock and gave up for the day, camping alongside their
excavation.

That night my friend was visited by a pirate spirit who said "That rock is mine. Leave it
alone."

In the morning the Indians refused to continue the work, saying they felt an evil presence.
They fled, leaving the two friends to continue alone.

Mr. X entered the hole and smelt the sent of buried metal. He hit at the rock with pick axe
and the rock broke open revealing a large cavity. Out of the cavity came an angry roar
and a foul smell. Mr. X was overcome by an instant fever. The two men ran off never to
return.

Mr.X told me of another treasure experience that he shared in. The following is his
account.

A man I knew, Maning Chu, a chiniroyal, was living in Water Cay and he had a girl that he
raised. He fished turtle and went to the small Zapatilla. That night the girl had a dream.
She saw a big man with large boots with flap overs and two guns in his waist and he said
to her "Tell your father when he comes back that there is a stump above a fresh water
well. He must dig a that spot and he will find a chest. In the chest he will find a map, and
some money, not much but enough to give you a good education, and the map will direct
him to the remaining treasure. I am going to ask him a favor. In the trunk he will find a
gold watch, inside the watch is an address. Please send the watch to that address. I still
have family alive. You must send the watch to them so they may know what happened to
me. The girl woke up and woke her mother. When the father came home he found them
all shuck up. The girl told him the story. She took him to the stump.   Later Maning Chu
took me to the spot. We never did dig for the chest because we ourselves did not have
the dream and the girl she did not want to have anything to do with it.

Carlos Reid, Memorizas de Un Criollo Bocatorenho. 1980 Asociacion Panamenha de
Artropolgia.