News & Views for Southern Sailors - Southwinds Magazine

The Barefoot DentistBy Steven BowdenAs I watched a CSY 44 ghostingdown our channel, bound foropen water, it took me back to aweek aboard one years ago…“You ruined our vacation!” is notexactly what you want to hear from acharter guest, especially one fromwhom you were hoping for a nice tipafter a long week of grueling work andmixing drinks.They had arrived a week earlier.The couple were nice folks, a dentalsurgeon from Dallas and his perenniallysmiling trophy wife. They hadcome down to the island of Roatan, inthe Bay Islands of Honduras, lookingfor a different travel adventure. Theyhad chosen a yacht charter fromCaribbean Sailing Yachts. I was workingthere when they requested a captainedcharter, as they weren’t qualifiedfor the bareboat sailing the companyhad innovated.Sailing in the Bay Islands is aunique experience as the main islandof Roatan has a mountainous spinethat runs most of its approximately 30-mile length. Most islands in the westernCaribbean are low-lying cays.Roatan features numerous coves,inlets and lagoons on the south sidethat provide ideal, safe anchoragesthat attracted CSY to build its charterbase at Brick Bay. The company wastrying to duplicate its popular Tortola,British Virgin Islands, operation andconsidered Roatan the next great sailingdestination. Unfortunately, politicalproblems in Central America hadprevented the expected tourist boomand resulted in a laid-back, undevelopedversion of the Caribbean. Out offinancial desperation, the companywas attempting to sell “adventure sailing”to people bored with the typicalcharter vacation.The Bay Islands are unique bothgeographically and culturally, inhabitedby a spicy stew of Indians,descendants of Spanish and Britishcolonists and their former slaves.While Spanish is the official language,the Bay Islands have a large populationof English speakers who proudlyhold on to their heritage and 18th centurybuccaneer accents.The pre-trip preparation coveredthe usual systems on the boat, emergencyprocedures and an overview ofthe area. “What do you guys want tosee?” was the usual opener withexpectation of short day sails, quietanchorages, waterfall hikes andmaybe a visit to a local town for touristknickknacks and an “authentic” islandexperience. The doc’s answer wasunexpected and interesting, “I reallywant to visit one of those Indian villages,you know, with the people stillliving in a very primitive way.” Hiswife was no longer smiling.“Sure,” I said, “I know a placeabout 20 nautical miles south, an easyreach, since the trades are blowing.The locals welcome strangers as longas visitors are respectful of their privacyand offer a gift to their chief.”The village was on the easternside of the island and the exposed reefprovided a protected anchorage. Aswe dinghied into the village, it wasobvious the doctor was going to gethis wish. The native huts were asprimitive as those of the originalinhabitants of the Mosquito Coast.This area was later called the SpanishMain after colonization, but theIndians had fiercely retained their cultureand identity against all invaders.A short tour of the villagerevealed a population of Black Caribsor Garifunas, descendants of Carib,Arawak and West African tribes. TheBritish colonials called them BlackCaribs and many of them still use thisname for themselves. They speak anArawakan-based language spoken inHonduras, Belize, Guatemala andNicaragua.The people were both friendly andpolite, each greeting us with smilesthat unfortunately revealed horriblyblackened teeth. This naturally attractedthe attention of my dentist guest,and he started examining theislanders’ teeth more closely.Practically every man, woman, andchild in the village had rotted teethand the evidence for the crime was allaround us. Stacks of cola cases wereeverywhere, and it soon dawned onthe doc that the combination of sticky,sugar soft drinks and a lack of brushingor any dental care had done anumber on the locals. Many of themwere in obvious pain.“Go out to the boat and get myblack bag,” he instructed in a practicedtone obviously used for years withsuccess on dental assistants. I quicklyretrieved the magic bag.The rest of the day was a scenefrom a documentary film with theentire village lined up on the beach forthe gringo dentista. He soon ran out ofany kind of anesthetic and since thecare consisted mostly of what he calledextractions, I can only imagine thepain many of these gentle people quietlyendured. Even the boat’s aspirinsupply was used up in an effort to helpthem, and by the end of the day, alarge basin was filled with the ravagedremains of decayed molars.The evening entertainment consistedof singing and dancing for thehonored guests, but the doc’s wifewas noticeably absent. Most of thevillage women insisted that we trytheir special feast dish, and all themen wanted to drink with us allnight. After that, all I can rememberwas that the local “kill devil” rumSee DENTIST continued on page 6870 SOUTHWINDS www.southwindsmagazine.com