AHMEN/CHIMES Medical Mission to Honduras: Part 1

Rio Cangrejal

On April 25th, our group departed from four different states and met in Houston for the flight to San Pedro Sula.  Our domestic team was composed of three American doctors, one PA, two nurses and a therapeutic masseur,  as well as Bud and Jesus and Jesus' son Isaac.  We loaded nine foot-lockers of medication at Birmingham. By the time we reached La Ceiba, our group had grown to fifteen, including Mario Ortiz, the Brady's, Delmer Montoya and his friend Norman Cato.  We spent our first night in La Ceiba at an eco-lodge in the mountains above La Ceiba perched above the Rio Cangrejal.

We spent the first day sorting out medications, and doing all the errands in town that can never be done beforehand including renting another truck.  We planned to leave early the next morning for Palacios, some 10-12 hours east, beyond roads, at the gateway to the Mosquito Coast and the Rio Plátano Biosphere.  Our three trucks traveled uneventfully until Tocoa, where the only road across the river was blocked by a political demonstration by the Compasinos requiring a thirty mile detour around the city.  Soon enough, we were on the road again with a delay that would prove fateful.  Past Bonito Oriental, past Limón to Ciriboya where we dropped off three trunk-loads of badly needed medicines at the Garifuna hospital.

A few miles further down the dusty road in Iriona, we turned off onto the beach to begin the most exciting part of the land travel; the thirty mile drive through the sand and surf to Pueblo Nuevo.  Excitement turned out to be an understatement.  Our trucks had been operating flawlessly along the rough dirt roads.  We switched to four wheel drive and turned onto the beach.   One fully loaded truck immediately got stuck in the sand.  The sand was totally dry and we quickly became hopelessly mired.  We dug it out and tried again, and became stuck again.  We finally realized that despite all indicators, the 4X4 truck wasn't turning the front wheels and we had no hope of being able to travel the beach road in two-wheel drive.  AVIS was called and a new truck was dispatched from La Ceiba, some eight hours back.  We transferred all our baggage to the remaining two trucks and loaded twelve people into them.  The crippled truck, running only two-wheel drive, was sent back to meet the new truck in Bonito Oriental.  Shack, Mario, and Ben Coplan volunteered to make the long trek back to Bonito Oriental for a new truck.  They were to pick up the new truck and immediately return, spending the night in Limón or possibly Ciriboya.  Our network of friends proved helpful again.  Just getting a new truck brought to Bonito Oriental was a major coup, let alone having it delivered so soon.  There was not a team at the Carolinas Clinic in Limón this week, so the group was able to sleep there.

Along the beach road

The rest of us trudged on across the super soft sand.  We became stuck again and again.   It was now obvious that we would not make Pueblo Nuevo before dark.  Miraculously, a colectivo stopped and helped us get our trucks moving and offered his driving expertise and to guide us the rest of the way.  The sand was far too soft to drive along the beach as we usually did.  The only way to negotiate this part of the trip was to travel the entire distance right at water's edge, and in the water.  Off we went together, our two trucks and the over loaded colectivo driven by another Honduran professional.  For the most part we traveled in the surf, water splashing onto the driver's side windows and jarring the truck with every wave.  Pitch dark by now, the headlighted caravan of three trucks piled high with supplies and equipment snaked along the edge of the phosphorescent sea.  All of us were nervous but we followed closely behind the lead vehicle and drove exactly where he did.  The tide was still coming in.   Had we become stuck in the surf the trucks might have been lost.  Water occasionally poured over the hood as we drove inches from the sand cliffs.   Driftwood piles occasionally forced us into deeper water and we prayed there was not a hidden hole in the sand.  We passed the villages of Sangrelaya and Tocomacho without even seeing them.  We only left the water when we came to Batalla and we drove through the tiny candle lighted Garifuna village where the few people still awake gawked at the too-late travelers coming off the beach.

La Moskitia Hotel

We arrived in Pueblo Nuevo and loaded our supplies and baggage onto freight canoes and crossed the river to Palacios and the La Moskitia Hotel.  We were all relieved and thankful to have slipped between the fingers of potential disaster.   It was apparent that we had received a Gift this day in the form of an expert driver with the skill and knowledge to get us safely off the beach.  We were all extremely thankful.

The next day was to be the trip up the Rio Plátano to Las Marias; one of the highpoints of our mission trip.  Since three of our group had returned to pick up the new truck, we decided to go to Limonales the first morning instead.  A relatively short trip up the Rio Tinto Negro, it was to have been a village we would visit later in the week.   We would now delay the Las Marias trip until we were again at full strength.  We met a young couple staying in Palacios.  Stephanie, a young Frenchwoman and her traveling companion Eduardo from the Canary Islands.  Eduardo is a veterinarian and Stephanie is a mountain guide from the French Alps.  An interesting couple, they asked if they could accompany us.  They both spoke fluent English and Spanish.  They were with us for the rest of the trip, and were a great help.

We were all exhausted, and after a simple meal of frijoles, rice, cheese, tortillas and shrimp, we went to bed grateful for the help we had received this day.