After out first
attempt to obtain a large cayuco failed, we heard from Ricardo that
there was a half-finished cayuco about to start rotting away in the
jungle near Loma Estrella. I hate waste of resources, so this sounded
quite intriguing. As it turned out, someone from Colon had ordered this
boat from a guy named Alexis, who promptly cut down the tree and
started work. When he ran out of gas for the chainsaw, he couldn't find
the buyer -- who never came back. Ever since, the log had been in the
jungle... Another example of inefficiencies as a result of people's
cash flow situation in Bocas. If he had had enough money for gas and
food while working on the boat, he could have just finished it and sold
it.
The
"boat" was 43 feet long and about 5 feet wide -- a pretty good size
for a dugout canoe!
So we decided to have Alexis and his brother finish the work. This is a very interesting proces that has evolved over time... Nowadays, the log is hollowed out by making cross cuts into the wood with a chainsaw every 4 inches or so, and then chipping away the wood inbetween the cuts with an axe. After the rough shape is there, a special tool (Soacha) is used to hack away more wood and to shape the interior. All work is done wherever the tree fell -- it is, of course, impossible to move the log. Rough estimate: 1.5m diameter, 2.25*3.14/4 = 2, 2*12m = 24 m3. Even if you cut it in half, with a specific gravity of .7, you end up with about 8 tons. No way -- given that the tree is far from any road or vehicle accessible terrain.
So
-- when the boat is almost finished, but still in relative rough shape,
people get together and push it to the sea. For this boat, we needed
about 40 people, and it took a whole day. Traditionally, this is
done in a Junta -- the boat builders invite all their friends and
neighbors to help, and provide food and booze in return. A very nice
tradition -- born out of necessity, since they could never afford to
actually pay that many people for their help. Previously, many more
types of projects were done this way. Building a new house, even
clearing some land for planting, was done in groups like this.
Naturally, towards the end of the day, people tend to be a bit less
coordinated... Fortunately, Alexis, who cleared the path for the boat
with the chainsaw, had enough common sense not to get wasted...
The crux of the operation was a little cliff the boat
had to be eased down. Man Hing wrapped a rope around a tree, to hold
the boat back, and someone had the very bright idea to cut a balsa tree
part way, so that the branches were holding up the trunk a few feet off
the ground. As the boat fell, the balsa tree cushioned the fall, and
the boat hit the ground unharmed.
The last section
of the trip was much easier -- along the road. However, it was not
encessaily safer. To warn traffic going by, someone cut yet another
tree (more on that later...) and put branches on the road. (This
is a latin american -- and maybe global tradition. If you see green
fresh branches on the road, SLOW DOWN).
To get the boat to the farm, Man Hing nailed some 2x4s to it, put an engine on it, and drive it home, very slowly.
Since it was still in a very rough shape, it was very slow and sluggish, and didn't track well... no big deal of course. A few weeks later, Man Hing and Emiliano finished the refining work, and added 10" of wood on the sides and the bow. The boat turned out beautiful and useful, with a capacity of at least 4 tons, or a small village.
Throughout the process, I spent a lot of time thinking about whether building this boat was a responsible thing to do. What was the impact on the environment?
It always hurts me to see a tree cut down. Granted, this one was down already, but maybe another one will be cut down for the next boat, since this one is no longer available. The tree in question was a Ceibo (sandbox) tree, probably 100 years old. Ceibo is very common and somewhat invasive -- we have thousands growing on the abandoned cow pasture we are reforesting. About 500 of these we will protect and make part of the reforestation effort. So in the long run, I do not feel to guilty about the tree we cut down. Short term -- well, a tree was cut that was habitat for lots of animals. That's a bit painful. A tree was cut that was a beautiful reminder of the value of old growth forest... also not good. An example was set that it's ok to use these trees for boats... Hm. That one, I think does not apply. If anything, we made people realize that a piece of useful wood rotting away is a wasted resource, and that it is better to "approvechar" it. (The argument that the decomposition is an important part of the forest life cycle is not applicable here, I think, because we only took maybe 5% of the tree -- the remainder is now rotting away... and in the rainforest, there is so much biomass throughput that this is no big deal).
A trail of minor destruction was left where we pushed the boat, and a couple of balsa trees were cut -- no big deal in the tropics. A balsa tree reaches a foot in diameter in less than 3 years, and balsa trees are one of the first things that grow when you turn over soil, so there is no need to even plant them. I am sure that 6 weeks after the operation, all other traces were already overgrown.
So what were the positive effects of this project? I think it is important to help preserve what is left of the local way of life. This has always involved exploiting natural resources; and in turn, any respect people currently have for these resources results from the fact that they are exploitable. Or put another way -- if you can't eat or sell it or make a house or a boat from it, it's worthless. Also, there is very little sense of community left -- now, after over a year, people still talk about the day we pushed that boat to the water. It was one of the few events that united neighbors and family.