To Panama and back

by Henry T. Byford

Bocas del Toro is nearly two miles from the entrance of the bay on the narrow end of an inner coral island four miles wide by nine miles long. Although it appeared to us to be situated on the main land, a ride around the point of the island revealed miles of water behind it. The town had the usual shape of the tropical coast towns in Central America, viz., a narrow strip of houses extending for about a mile along the thickly wooded shore. There was no need of piers here for the bananas were brought in launches from the Chanquinola River, which ran through the company’s plantation, and were loaded directly on the ships. On account of the protection afforded by the islands and the consequent tranquillity of the water in the bay, this presented no more difficulty than loading from a pier and meant one less handling. It was the plying back and forth of these launches that gave the animated appearance we noted when we arrived and made the place look at first glance like a fashionable watering place with many pleasure boats.

The company sent out a launch and took us ashore, landing us on a little platform near their office building and warehouses. This narrow end of the island, all but the main street, is under water at high tide and out of water at low tide, the difference between high and low tide being twenty-three inches. When we landed it was low tide. Excepting on the main street, the sidewalks and street crossings were built two feet above the ground, and in the slimy side streets we saw innumerable crab holes about which little sea crabs were crawling so thickly that one could not have put a foot on the ground without stepping on two or three of them. They easily had the right of way except on the raised sidewalks. The main street, which was next to the sea, was high and dry however, and had no elevated sidewalks crossing it like the others, and thus was adapted to the passage of vehicles. But I saw neither donkey nor cart and concluded that the highness and dryness of the main street was a luxury rather than a necessity.

COMBINATION STORE AND RESIDENCE AT
BOCAS DEL TORO

Dr. R. E. Swigart, a young man from Tiffin, Ohio, who had been located here for several years, told us that the overflowing of the tide was a benefit to the town. The salt-water at high tide disinfected and washed away the filth of the negroes who threw their dirt and garbage anywhere and everywhere, and would have rendered the place unsanitary in a short time. He said that they could not be made cleanly in their habits. The authorities had planned to fill in the whole marshy part of the town to a level above high water, and to cut a channel across the narrow end of the island occupied by the town, and thus drain the ground. The place was, however, very healthy as it was, for there was but little sickness excepting malaria, and the doctor thought that, when filled in, the place would become dirty and unhealthy, notwithstanding the drainage. He said that they neither had yellow fever nor typhoid fever.

The town itself is small, having only about 1,000 inhabitants, but there are 30,000 people in the surrounding country for whom it is the center of supplies. The United Fruit Company’s warehouses are capable of supplying a large population with general merchandise, but quite a large proportion of the houses are small groceries and fruit stores and provide the people with ordinary comestibles.

The sea breeze enabled us, without great discomfort, to walk the entire length of the town and a short distance beyond along the beach at the edge of a dense forest, where all that was lacking were a few monkeys in the trees to transport us into the real, complete tropics of our juvenile books of travel. On our way back we bought the largest size ripe pineapples for ten cents each, and oranges and limes for almost nothing. Doctor Brower, who did not believe in being seasick on an empty stomach, bought a dozen pineapples, so that he could be seasick all he wanted to.

The other two local physicians (besides Doctor Swigart) were Dr. R. H. Wilson from Sterling, Mo., and Doctor Osterhout from Texas. The latter, a graduate of Jefferson, had been in Central America since 1888, and in Bocas del Toro since 1895. He had charge of the Marine Hospital. The doctors devoted their whole time to our entertainment and organized two of the most delightful and unique excursions that we had yet taken, affording new experiences to all of us.

The Fruit Company returned us aboard the Brighton with two dozen pineapples (one dozen for Doctor Brower and one dozen for other members of the party), several dozen fresh juicy oranges and many limes. The oranges we get in Chicago taste like chips in comparison with these juicy ones, ripened on the trees and eaten soon after being picked.

We found breakfast ready on the ship and, being hungry as the result of our exercise, we applied ourselves to it with all of our energies and dispatched it with the celerity and success of true sailors, filling up with solid food and packing it down with juicy fruit.