Adventures At Pauline's Caribbean Beach House

I just returned from a lovely week at Pauline's (you may remember her from my previous blogs) beach house near Nombre de Dios, a small town with a very interesting history. In 1502 on his final journey to the Americas, Columbus traveled with four ships. The crew was tired by the time they reached Nombre de Dios. Columbus was reported to say to his crew, “in the name of God we will go no further”. Hence the name of the town is Name of God (in English). In 1510 Diego de Nicuesa founded a permanent settlement at Nombre de Dios (the oldest, continually populated town in Panama). In 1519 a road was built to connect Panama City and Nombre de Dios. The road was called the Camino Real. The Spaniards used this road to carry Peruvian silver and gold across the Isthmus. In Nombre de Dios the treasure was loaded on ships for the voyage to Spain. In 1572 the Englishman Francis Drake entered the harbor in Nombre de Dios and attacked the town. After Drake’s raids the Spanish moved to the Caribbean end of the Camino Real from Nombre de Dios to Portobelo --a more secure port against the pirates. Nombre de Dios disappeared under the shadow of Portobelo. Today, Nombre de Dios is not a town that is visited by most Panamanians or foreigners.

As we pulled into Nombre de Dios, we were stopped by 8 Policia with 8 machine guns. Lucky for us, Chester (my famous anti-military English Shephard) was in the back seat and picked up on the bad energy of the Policia. When they surrounded Pauline's truck and got ready to search the contents under the tarp in the bed, Chester went ballistic and they waved us on.

Even though I'm retired and most every day feels like a holiday, a week a Pauline's Beach Resort felt like a true vacation. We snorkeled several times in the crystal blue water (notice the pictures to prove it); walked the beach several times a day (collecting priceless sea glass and beautiful shells); delighted in seeing new birds for me like flame rumped tanagers, buff-throated woodcreepers, golden-hooded tanagers (I confess...I stole this picture from the Internet), crimson-backed tanagers; and swam in warm ocean water with exotic tropical fish like fairy basslets, queen angelfish, striped parrotfish (I still feel badly about eating one in Mexico), and juvenile yellowtail damselfish (the bright blue dotted fish picture I downloaded from the Internet). We even did several art projects including the pictured broken tile table top.

In closing, if you can identify the fish in the second video, please let me know (Pauline & I can't figure it out). The fish in the first video are Sergeant Majors. Doesn't it feel like you are swimming in a huge aquarium?

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

All you have to do is Google the name “Wild Bill Cortez” and you’ll be swept into a story that promises to be featured on “20/20” or “Dateline”. I suspect it may even turn into a movie….! I have mostly written about the good things in Panama since I’m the forever optimist. The longer I live here, however, the more I realize just how “different” it is from middle America. Don’t get me wrong. I still prefer my beach walks to walking the isles in Wal-Mart or Costco. The following link: http://www.panama-guide.com/ has the Wild Bill Cortez story in its entirety. My connection to the story is that Wild Bill and his lovely wife Jane (along with their 2 dogs and various assortment of guns) lived in my house for 6 months before I moved in a year ago. After they murdered the Brown family in 2008, they moved to Playa La Barqueta and “rented” from the owner of the house starting sometime in late 2008. I use the term “rented” loosely because the owner never received rent. I only encountered them once, when I was peddling my bicycle around the neighborhood handing out fliers for the Jazz Night I helped organize. I knocked on their door and handed them a poster. They thanked me and said they were buying the house. Me knocking on the door probably prompted them to paste a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door (the tape marks are still there). Later, when another neighbor knocked on the door asking for help rescuing an upturned boat out of the waves Bill said, “Can’t you read?” and slammed the door in her face. When I moved in last July, there was an unexplained telescope set up in the bedroom. I recently found out that Bill and Jane trained that telescope on the street, most likely watching out for the Bocas Del Toro Police. They left here quietly (I imagine because the electricity was finally turned off) and moved back to Bocas in early 2009.  Here is a link to the Dateline story about Wild Bill Cortez: http://www.nbcnews.com/video/dateline/39804251#39804251

And for the ugly: this is a picture of a dead olive ridley turtle that washed up on my beach last week. It looks like she died of old age rather than being caught in a net. It's still sad though. Before very long, the incoming tide turned her onto her back (as in this picture), providing easy access for the hoard of vultures waiting to reach in for her meat (via her legs).

The scary: Last week, one of my neighbors had both front and back doors open (to create a breeze). While relaxing in his chair, he noticed a Fer-De-Lance snake crawl up the step and into his house. He found a sharp, long tool and killed it. Yikes! Maybe I shouldn't leave my doors open any more!

The rest of the story: I've added two more pictures since I started this Blog last night. One is of the vultures lined up to eat the olive ridley turtle. The other picture shows the telescope that Bill and Jane left in my house.

Good news: 3:29 pm - MANAGUA, Nicaragua. (AP): Army spokesman Col. Juan Ramon Morales told AP that military forces captured two individuals identified as William Cortez, American, and his wife Jane, apparently Holland, traveling in a boat on the river San Juan.

Go Nicaragua! I"ll sleep better on the beach tonight!

Back Home At The Playa

After spending two lovely weeks in Washington and California, I'm happily back home at the beach in Panama. Some memories include: birding with Carol in Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge (saw my first Yellow-headed Blackbird and Common Yellowthroat); jumping into Kelsey Creek on the Fourth of July (after a hiatus of 45 years); travelling with Mom through airport security (yes, Mom really did tell the TSA agent who patted her down that she thought she was falling in love after all the "touching"); finding a plethora of bikinis to buy at Wal-mart because nobody who shops there is my size; birding with Chris Thaub and talking with him about his feature film Samira (wishing I could invest in the film before it becomes a hit); spending a week at True North Health and finally perfecting my diet (good-bye salt, sugar and oil); buying "The Kiss" from Artist James Zimmerman (Santa Rosa High School classmate) after seeing it in a San Francisco art gallery in 1978 for $300 and not being able to afford it.

The weekend I returned to Panama, I had the pleasure of "hosting" two Learning Enterprises (http://www.learningenterprises.org/) interns named Kelsey and Emma. Kelsey is from Anchorage (her mother works with a Dancing Bear friend named David) and is a Junior at Brown while Emma is from DC and a Junior at Georgetown. They are teaching English in the province of Los Santos for 6 weeks. While at the beach they enjoyed kayaking (pictured), eating vegetables (it's rice and fried food when you live with Panamanian families), and dancing at the Las Olas bar (it was karaoke night).

I am back into my routine of walking the beach with Chester (yes, he did miss me), birding with the Boquete Birders (we will walk the Caldera River this Friday), catching up with friends (Pauline is in Panama for a couple of weeks), and enjoying the sun/fun/adventure of living in Paradise!

Simple Pleasures

The more time I spend in Panama, the more I appreciate the Panamanians and their simple lives in this rich country. It touched my heart when 2 workers from J&J Windows walked down to my beach after repositioning the screens on my windows from inside to outside (better for keeping bugs out). They returned from the beach with a very used, deflated soccer ball. They wanted to know if they could have it....! Sweet, small pleasures.
Soon I return back to the US for the 4th of July. I'll be with Mom for a few days in Washington, then escort her to Sacramento (my brother's house) then on to Kelseyville, CA for a family reunion. The week of July 7-14, I'll be at True North Health Center in Santa Rosa healing from whatever bad things went into my mouth this last year (mostly chocolate bars and sugar). I always have fun there making new friends (with like-minds), birding, shopping and reuniting with old high school buddies.

Lunch With Noriega's Ghosts

Yesterday, I had a very interesting lunch that included a few ghosts who were murdered by Noriega in the 1980’s. A friend of mine (Dr. Jennifer Daniels who you might recognize from previous blogs) is caretaking a house (pictured) that was once “owned” by Manuel Noriega. I use the term “owned” loosely because he really seized the house when he was the military dictator of Panama from 1983-1989. Dr. Jennifer prepared an amazing lunch (at least if you are vegan like me) that included cucumbers dipped in guacamole, out-of-this-world split pea soup (which I hope to duplicate), a huge fresh fruit salad (with star fruit from her neighbor) and her famous oatmeal cookies. After lunch, she and her new husband Gary took us on a tour. The views were unbelievable (I could almost see my beach house) and the garden was one of the nicest I have seen in Panama. One of the bedrooms once housed Fidel Castro. It was a much better outcome for us than for Noriega’s guests of years past. They would be invited to the mansion for a meal followed by a party. You guessed it. They would be lead out to a beautiful vista and killed.

Sunny on the Divide

It was a perfect day on the Continental Divide trail… highly unusual any time of the year and particularly unusual in the wet season. Fourteen of us saw 57 species of birds. Almost more enjoyable than seeing golden browed chlorophonias and hearing prong-billed barbets was simply being immersed in the lovely cloud forest on a sunny day. All pictures are mine except for the broad-billed motmot that was taken by Kay Wade.

Three Marks and a Black George

I know, the title of this blog sounds like a deadly cocktail, or at the very least, a hallucinogen. And in a sense, it is. My five week visit to the States culminated in an 8-day Colorado River trip through the 277-mile long Grand Canyon. If you’ve been on a Grand Canyon river trip, you’ll remember the hallucinogenic quality of that time.

It started with an Arizona Shuttle van ride from my sleazy motel room on Rt. 66 in Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon. Mark Harris was the driver and within a very short period of time, we were reminiscing about “the good old days” in Yosemite (after he discovered I was once a ranger there). You see, Mark Harris spend a lot of time climbing in the Valley in the early 90’s. He taught me some “tricks of the trade” climbers use to stay in the Valley for free (like nailing the recycling bin closed, forcing park visitors to leave their nickel cans and bottles in the nearby trash can; climbers gather the goods and take them to the recycling center for payment). Eventually, rangers (no doubt some of my friends who still worked there) escorted Mark out of the park… to greener pastures.

The other two Marks (Pillar and Yeston) were boatmen extraordinaire who lead the 32-person (River Management Society professional river managers), 8-day/300 mile, 4 motorized rafts (3 J-rigs/1 S-rig) trip through the Canyon. Piller was the trip leader and drove the 37’ S-rig. I rode on his boat a lot because he was always telling jokes, reciting cowboy poetry (how does he remember it all?) or recounting stories of the gazillion (or was it a Brazilian) days he has spent on the river in the last 11 years. Yeston was even funnier because his stories were based on real life….! Yeston’s description of taking a Government “bean-counter” down the river (she only made it one night before she had to be hauled out by helicopter) had me laughing so hard I was crying!

Black George is a legend (see http://www.hcn.org/issues/355/17258 or http://www.22local.com/2009/07/08/the-legend-of-black-george/) and a good friend of Yeston’s. He will be 87 years old in September. He told some absolutely amazing stories around the “propane” campfire. All I can say is Yee-Haw!

In case you are wondering about the pictures, in order from top to bottom, left to right is: Martha Moran in National Canyon, me under and next to waterfalls in Travertine Canyon, Rob and Jason on the front of the S-Rig, view from Nankoweap, Deer Creek Falls, Yoga on the beach lead by Rachel Peters, graneries at Nankoweap, Vasey's Paradise, and Black George (new boyfriend) and yours truly in Redwall Cavern.

So, I’m back in Panama, enjoying every second of the ocean, my friends, cool breezes and walks with Chester. After suffering through 3+ weeks of bronchitis in the states, it’s good to be back to such a healing place. I head back to the states July 4 to take Mom to the family reunion in Kelseyville. Will I be ready?