DUCK Diaries

The first day was spent cleaning out the area and general cleaning up and making some sort of a camp out of our coconut tree habitat.

We also met a Jeff (who lives in sight on a house built on the bay) who speaks perfect English and who showed us a place to obtain fresh water 1 hour away—down the bay and then into the jungle. We’ve affectionately dubbed him Jeff “Cayuco”—the native means of water transportation.

Dearest Rosie,

We had trouble with our propeller and now on a tropical beach [sic]. We can't go on, so Bob and Ed are going to Colon to get us a tow back to Colon. All is well, T.G. The rest of us are staying here having a vacation. We living like the Swiss Family Robinson [sic.].

Love,

Dan

Jan. 28, 1961 [sic.]*

*Bob wrote the wrong date, it was 1962

Dear Rosie,

Dan asked me to write to you and tell you a little of what has been happening. Right now, we are temporarily stranded. Dan and all the fellows are in fine health and spirits and we are all confident that we will be able to get going again.

I will be seeing Dan Tuesday and he will probably give me a letter to send to you. It looks like we will be in Panama a little longer than we figured so I will give you a mailing address which is:

DR.LEVIN, P.O. BOX 2942, CRISTOBAL, CANAL ZONE

I am sending you an article which explains our problem.

One thing, don't worry about Dan or the fellows they are all okay.

Very sincerely,

Bob Hinds

 _{*Fraser did not label the days in his journal, he explained multiple days at a time across multiple pages. The pages on which he wrote are labeled in [brackets].} 

 ^[25]  For the past few days we have worked on our house, incomplete as of yet, done some fishing with negative results and in general, made ourselves a little more comfortable.

 ^[26]  We have eaten Jeff’s donation of fish, bananas, and yucca (similar to potato) for some of our meals and we have enough food ourselves to last quite a few days more,  ^[27]  but then there’s always fish and yucca, if we even can catch any fish. Jeff is going to make us some bread and so we’ll be in pretty good shape if he does. The coconuts provide a tasty juice as  ^[28]  well as the meat and so existence here isn’t too hard (if we have to for an extended time).

There are quite a few natives around that come from down the coast for coconuts and usually a calluco [sic.] or two is available for our use, as well as our 2-man liferaft [sic.] which has proven to be invaluable. 

 ^[29]  Everything was going fine until George, while cleaning his gun, accidentally shot himself in the leg, the bullet remaining there. We did all we could short of taking the bullet out, and the next day a moterboat [sic.] took George up to Porvenir where we found out later he  ^[30]  was soon taken by helicopter back to Panama. Walt went along with him, as he also cut his thumb pretty badly with an axe and two would have been necessary anyway. Now there are four of us waiting for either our rescue or a message of some sort.

We have already been  ^[31]  dropped some food (a couple of days ago), but no message, and so we are in sort of a mystery as to just what is going on. We have been passing the time reading, fishing + resting but every amusement seems to lose its appeal as time marches forward.

 ^[1]  We’ve been just dropped some more food by plane and this time a message was in it relating the incidents back in Panama, all very encouraging, and so our few more day-stay will be a little more endurable.

 ^[2]  One of the days past, I visited Jeff in his hut across the bay for lunch, which was very good, and listened to him talk of by-gone days of Nicaragua (Bluefields) and Panama that were filled with family problems that finally drove him to this get-away-from-it-all spot out here in the middle of nowhere. Soon, though, hes’s going to get a job somewhere  ^[3]  for he’s fed up with the lazy, indifferent attitude that the natives around here have, all take and no give. He’s pretty sharp for a person leading this kinda(?) life, and also very well-built for a man of any age(?), although he must be at least fifty. We’ve invited him over several times for dinner and we have a very nice reciprocal relationship going—one extremely unusual thing that kept reocurring was that of dreams. Without exception (except once) every night’s sleep had a dream and rather grotesque at that. I found that to be true with [illegible] almost everyone else except Dan’s [illegible]. 

 ^[4]  When one has as much time as we do here, he often reflects back, and such has also been the case here. But instead of thinking of home + college so much, I find myself thinking of Costa Rica. Never in my life will I probably have another so rewarding an experience [sic.] as that one, and I will never forget the kindness and generosity of the people of Alajuela, Costa Rica; Jose Joaquin Barrantes et al, “La Capitala Del Mando” as they say in Alajuela.

 ^[5]  I’m a little ahead of myself here, Feb. 3rd is the correct date, as I write aboard the M. Army LCM 8143, in their rescue mission long overdue. It took us quite a while to get the duck on this LCM, but after finding a steep beach we managed to accomplish this task, and head back to Colon, where who knows what the future will hold for us.