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Saturday, 14 April 2012 |
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April 9, 2012 Supanam In the midst of surviving in the jungle, I have been creating tropical hardwood carvings from the local wood that I find. On my first voyage to Brazil in 1973 on my catamaran I made carvings from abandoned canoes. I shipped some of the carvings back home, but the biggest one, a boy riding a dolphin, I carried over the pontoons. When the weather got too rough, I sacrificed it to the Gods of the Sea. That act familiarized me with spirits in the world culture of man that dwell in the artistic creations of man and help us adapt and thrive on the earth as our souls venture into space. It has become a necessity for me to create art objects to aid our survival as we adventure into the unknown. Of course we are busy working on the boat. Now is the time that we must work to save the schooner. She needs and deserves it. After her epic voyage, she is worn out in every way and rebuilding an aging schooner is demanding work. It takes all my time and is a challenge for me after the physical feat of departing the terra firma longer than any man. I thought my time of extreme physicality was over and that I would never sculpt again. But the mystical spirits call me and visions of gods and goddesses appear in all the wood shapes I see and I must answer their call. On a full moon extreme low tide, as we landed our dinghy, we stepped out on an old smooth holey three foot wide black plank. Four of us pulled it up and sawed it up into four foot pieces as we hauled it up on the river bank. The first statement I made was cutting a big circle out of the plank. Much to my surprise, I found it was purple heart wood! I have had a love relationship with purple heart wood since 1971 when the solo sailor, Klaus, showed me the purple heart wood from Guyana in the interior of the little cutter he built on the beach in Bequia. When I sailed to Bequia a few years later, I began carving in purple heart. Now we see the jungle through a polished circle and are taken around the world to zen-like spaces. A praying goddess subtly appears in what looks like flames coming out of the circle. I have several more pieces in progress, both on the shore and on the schooner. The tall slender form of a mystical creature emerges from a piece of heavy mora wood. Can you imagine that I actually hear and sea in my mind’s eye the jungle around me thank me for carving its wood and lifting its presence above domestic and commercial uses towards eternal callings. This is part of what compels me to create even when the realities of life and the huge job of rebuilding the schooner overwhelm me. |
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Saturday, 31 March 2012 |
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Mar. 29, 2012 Supanam 58.31 W 6. 58 N In the midst of all the adventures we are having in the jungles of Guyana, the hard work on the schooner goes on. It is actually quite surprising that despite the environment we are carrying on with full work days. We wake up early and get Darshen off to nursery school. Then the work day begins. Soanya has all the household as well as communication duties while I do everything I can to “save the schooner.” Now that we have chipped into all the damaged fiberglass, puttied the hull, fiberglass matted all over, I feel, after nearly two months, that we have taken care of the basics to save the schooner. We still have more puttying, sanding, and faring to do. We also have to take out the masts and stop the rot which is of utmost importance. We have already begun changing the double thick plexi glass windows in the hull. The list of work goes on and we have most of the materials we need, so it is a matter of doing the work. I like to mix all the jobs around and work on lots of things at a time. That way I can mull over all the difficult jobs for the creative solutions I need to complete them. Besides working on the hull and decks, we are gutting and painting the galley lockers, giving the motor room a much needed overhaul and rebuilding the whole cargo hold. In the cargo hold, the floor, cabinets, and bathroom as well as the whole roof, skylights, and main hatch is getting rebuilt. The whole schooner is in a jumbled mess with work going on everywhere. Gear and supplies are pile here and there. In the middle of all of this I am crating some new sculptures. On deck, the main hatch area has big and odd chunks of tropical hardwood. We will start sending back some pictures of artistic work in progress real soon. We are continuing to bring our daily focus more over to the “mystical” aspects of life. What does mystical mean? We live and work in a state of awe and wonder while we feel connected to so much that is greater than us. This is our special gift that we strive to share. |
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Thursday, 22 March 2012 |
Mar. 17, 2012
Supanam
There is one fisherman we know of in Supanam who specializes in catching humungous catfish. Catfish several feet long! Anyone who has caught catfish in the US will tell you this is huge. The fisherman dropped by one morning to show us. He uses a very big hook tied to three eighth inch line and tells us proudly that he pulled it in by himself. He reminds me of Earnest Hemmingway’s Old Man and the Sea except he manages to get his monster onboard and bring his catch to the market. We hear that the fish is chopped up and soon all of it is sold. We have eaten a little bit of fresh fish here, but mostly we eat salt fish. It is very cheap and personally, I like it more than most fresh fish, especially as a daily course.
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Family on the Jungle Schooner |
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Thursday, 22 March 2012 |
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Mar. 12, 2012 Supanam Alex and Rachel have now left the schooner to go on their own adventure. They worked hard on the schooner and we couldn’t have gotten away before winter without them. Now our little family is left to survive where the natives tell us only one boat with a mast has been here before. There are many hardships and dangers here but we still think it is a beautiful place and the right place for us as we work hard to repair the boat. Soanya has relatives that live just down the road along the coast of the Essequibo river and I, more than her, marvel that this is her roots. The Essequibo river is by far the largest river in Guyana. The shallow mouth of the river is wide and hundreds of islands dip their jungle trees into the muddy waters. The smaller Supanam river that we are on has much darker and more clear water. The locals drink this water, but we stick strictly to the rain water that we fill our tanks with. The bamboo leans way over the water and whispers to us but the leaves don’t touch us. So how do the frogs, tarantulas and other creepy crawlies get onboard? Darshen loves it here and is on a very busy schedule. I row him ashore and ride him on a borrowed bike to school. We dodge cars and goats as we say good morning many times. DArshen comes home at noon for lunch and quiet time. Then he is off to play with the neighbor’s children and other kids around the village. On the schooner, Soanya and I work with young men to get the boat in shape. For the last weeks, the Anne has been leaning over to port so we could make fiberglass repairs along the waterline on the starboard side. We have hardly begun grinding the bow where layers of paint and fiberglass were worn down by the years of waves we cut through. We are busy getting rid of rust everywhere while we also sand our woodwork for varnishing and begin to bring the schooner to brighter more dressed up times. The tropical hardwoods are calling me more intensely and I see praying gods and goddesses starting to emerge. It will take a brave and well planned leap to escape back to the open seas and are open to communicating with anyone who wants to come with us on the adventure of a lifetime. We still need lots of financial help to repair the schooner and look forward to communicating with everyone who will help us. We hope to post our updates more regularly but reception here in the jungle has proven to be intermittent. In the photos, Soanya stands in a green halo while Darshen explores the jungle with his Daddy carefully guarding him. |
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Friday, 16 March 2012 |
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Mar. 2, 2012 Supanam On the day of the jaguar incident, Nato our boatbuilding neighbor, launched his big “replica” of Noah’s Ark. This boat really resembled all the pictures I have seen of Noah’s Ark. We were inside the schooner when we heard the sounds of a big motor. When we looked outside a big tug boat was nudged against the shore and men were putting a big heavy hawser rope on. Darshen and I rowed ashore to watch and Soanya stayed on the schooner to photograph the launching from the water. A big group of men worked hard helping Nato wrap the hawser around the fishing boat and sliding logs through the mud under the fishing boat so the tug boat could drag her into the water. A crowd gathered and there was excitement in the air as men shouted and the tugboat maneuvered into position. The crowd was moved way back and we watched from a safe distance in case the hawser broke. The tug revved its big motors and pulled Nato’s 50 ft ark forward but too much to one side and the bow stuck in an embankment over a ditch. It looked as if they would never launch the boat. The sun was setting. Out came the flashlights and shovels. The men dug, pried, and rearranged the big hawser. Darshen’s friends came and sat in our beached dinghy as we itched and scratched at mosquito and sand fly bites. The darkness became complete. I tried to get away and back to the schooner but just then the tug boat took off. We pulled back to the safety of the shore. The tug veered causing the tow cable to come dangerously close to the dinghy. It veered the other way and Nato’s wooden ark rose from its angled lean, slid through the mud and dashed into the river. I shouted hooray but the crowd was surprisingly silent. The tug veered again to avoid the bow of the ark that was speeding towards it. From the schooner, Soanya watched as the tug boat drove towards the Anne then crash against her broadside. (See below) Darshen and I started to return to the schooner but were called to help shuttle men from the shore to the tug. Men were in the water in the dark pulling the hawser from the ark. It was quite exciting for us as the ark got secured back to the jungle. When we got back to the schooner, I inspected the side of the schooner to see if there was any damage. A flashlight inspection showed no new cracks or scrapes. Soanya was a little shaken but she still prepared a great pasta and pesto dinner. Soanya’s View: I figured the best place to see the launching of Nato’s boat which had been built almost before our eyes in the past month was on the schooner, across the river. Out of the action. But the action came to me. I saw the tug maneuvering and realized just how narrow the Supanam river really was. Maybe I should have gone with Reid to the shore. Certainly we had no warning that the schooner was in potential danger or else we would have moved earlier in the day. In any case, I stood in the cockpit as a tug boat the size of a house headed directly towards the schooner. Should I jump off the other side? Get in the pilothouse? I wasn’t sure where was the best place to be in relation to a boat about to run into you. Both of our anchors were in the water. I figured if the tug hit us we would drag anchor into the bush before the boat actually started getting crushed. Where did that leave me? Hhmm. The tug drew frighteningly close then pivoted, but its momentum couldn’t keep it from slamming the schooner. I heard the Anne creak and felt the anchor ropes flex as she shuddered but held position. I could see the men on the tug for a brief moment. They looked at me like “What are you doing there?” I looked at them like, “What, are you blind?” The tug changed gears and off they went across the river again. I was not getting crushed today. Thank goodness. I could not help but be reminded of the freighter that hit us on the 1000 days voyage. Somehow, this seemed so much scarier. Perhaps because I could see it happening as it was happening and I was alone on the schooner this time. I checked the bilge to make sure it was empty and then yelled across the darkness for Reid. He came as soon as he could. |
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Wednesday, 14 March 2012 |
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Feb. 28, 2012 Supanam
All is well here in Guyana on the jungle river named Supanam. We have been out of touch because our Iridium phone that we normally send our satellite updates out on has not been getting good reception. The phone seems to work but the signal is not very strong. The internet place in town has also had trouble with their internet which comes through a phone company. Time has passed in our lives in the bush. Darshen still goes to school every morning and in the afternoon I row him ashore to play with the children of Nato, the boat builder and other friends from school. We finally got organized and hired some teenage boys to help us work on the schooner. We’ve been busy chipping out old fiberglass and putting new Fer-A-Lite in. Fer-A-Lite is the original material that the schooner was made of. We have also been chipping steel everywhere. This is only the beginning of the work that has to be done and it has been a lot more time consuming than I imagined. We have been slowly laying the groundwork for the repairs that need to be done and I have a feeling that those projects will be difficult too. We wake up at dawn every day and watch the sunrise through the trees. The motorboats start running up and down the river carrying children to school, workers to the village and lumber workers up the river. Some of the boats are so loaded that they are only a few inches above the water. The women carry bright umbrellas to shade from the sun. We still haven’t seen any tourists or foreign boats. Everyone in Supanam has been very nice and we like it here a lot. |
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The Jaguar and the Internet |
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Wednesday, 14 March 2012 |
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Mar. 1, 2012
Supanam
As we sat having breakfast one morning, our friend Vishnu Singh drove by in his boat and told us that he had shot a jaguar the night before and we could go see it on the shore nearby. We often wonder if there was a jaguar prowling in the jungle that was so close we can sometimes reach out and touch the bamboo from the boat. The jaguar had been killing the villagers’ baby goats and they called Vishnu to stop the jaguar. He found the remains of a goat nearby and set some traps. Then Vishnu hid in a tree and waited through the night. He heard a noise and shone his big flashlight through the clouds of mosquitoes and shot him.
By the time we got ready to go ashore, a couple boat loads of villagers were crossing the river to see the jaguar. We rowed over very close to where the schooner was anchored, walked across a muddy field, and then across a narrow plank slippery with mud and finally saw the dead jaguar in the grass.
Darshen asked what did the jaguar say when Vishnu shot it. I told Darshen the jaguar said, “Oh my goodness. I’m shot, I’m dead now. I should never have eaten those people’s goats. I’m king of the jungle, but I learned my lesson. Next time I’ll stay far away from man and his guns.” It’s a fine line between wilderness and civilization. On occasion, each side forays into the other’s camp. As wild and isolated as this place is there is still internet, TV, and instant contact with the rest of the world. People who live in huts on poles watch American news. They are influenced instantaneously by the world media.
 
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Wednesday, 14 March 2012 |
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Feb. 6, 2012 Supanam We have had all kinds of little jungle creatures come aboard like tarantulas, giant beetles, frogs, black and iridescent blue butterflies, big spiders, strange wasps, bees, neon green flies, and bats. The first bat flew into the cargo hold bathroom while Rachel was in there. Her amazement and curiosity fluctuated between “ooohs” and yelps of fear as she looked closely at our furry intruder hanging upside down in a corner of the cargo hold. We were sitting in the cockpit the next night when he flew right past us and took up the same spot in the cargo hold. We all tried to photograph him but only Rachel got a good shot in the dark corner. The next morning we found a sweet plantain busted open and half eaten away, which attracted more flies than one could believe. Soanya covered all the food in the galley with tightly tied plastic screen and we sleep under a mosquito net. The locals said bats are bad to have around. We asked why. They said “Because they bite your ears and toes.” We don’t want bats to get too friendly either because they might bring their friends with them. Then it could get unsanitary. It is spooky to hear them flap and flutter around us at night. So far though, they haven’t bothered us too much. |
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The Beat of a Wooden Drum |
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Wednesday, 14 March 2012 |
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Feb.15, 2012 Supanam Finally we woke up to a clear sunny day and we really appreciated it. I was beginning to think the big wooden boat on the shore looked a lot like Noah’s ark through the curtain of rain. Darshen and I rowed ashore for a visit. The boat builder, Nato, and his crew work hard all day. We hear them pounding on the wooden hull which sounds like a big wooden drum echoing across our little jungle river. We see progress on their boat every day. The smell of fresh cut wood wafts over to us. We work every day too but our progress is difficult to see. It takes time to gather materials and workers, and plan major rebuilds. Besides being busy as a mother, Soanya does the shopping, cooking, cleaning and organizing in the aft section of the schooner, as well as sending out our stories. Rachel handles every kind of work but is now specializing in trying to solve our electrical problems. Alex takes care of every kind of muscle work and engine related jobs. They really like being here and express wonder at every little bug, butterfly, and bird. They also enjoy socializing with the local people here and getting a feel for the culture. I am still in wonder at being here. It is a special unique place far off the beaten path. It took three local pilots to get us here and it wasn’t without mishap. I almost feel more isolated here than I did at sea. I will feel more at home when I have wavey seas around me in every direction. Soanya’s View: I am really enjoying my stay here in Guyana . I experience it both as a tourist and as a familiar place at the same time. I like that I can understand and almost speak the pigeon English and that the food is fresh and delicious. Darshen is having so much fun playing with other kids his age. There are a lot of children of all ages everywhere who are happy to have another playmate and he is beginning to pick up the language too (which might be confusing for him when he gets back to New York ). Thankfully, the rains have eased off and the mud is drying so its more pleasant to walk around (traded in my rubber boots for slippers) and we finally caught up with all the laundry from the voyage over here that needed a good washing and drying in hot tropical sun. A lot of people don’t have refrigerators here. Not that they need it since no one wants to eat day old food anyway. They also don’t have hot water, but again in the tropical heat, hot water wouldn’t be used too often anyway. It’s a very simple and basic style of living, but meets all of the needs of the people. I would like to see more art and creative expressions. There doesn’t seem to be any creative writing, painting, drawing, music, theater, or sculpture going on. There is some dance and singing in the capital city, but in the countryside even that is missing. I hope I see a little more of the artsy side before I leave. |
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