Like much of life, supply runs had a lot of side acts happening along with the main show. The transporting of people and supplies obviously occupied center stage but just the doing of it generated a lot of sometimes serious and sometimes funny happenings.
Many were the occasions when the loaded boats were laboring against the swift current a man or a family would paddle out from shore frantically waving for the boats to stop. The family would be living under the jungle canopy near the shore working rubber or some other jungle product for a patron. A child may have come down with malaria or the man might have gashed his leg with an ax. Whatever the case the these folks had recognized the sound of the missionaries engines from a long way out and knew they could count on getting help.
In those days when lady missionaries traveled by river they wore skirts over pantaloons. Why not just wear jeans or slacks you might ask? Not in those times, it just wasn’t the thing to do. Anyway, on one trip some passengers were on the prow of the boat talking or singing or just enjoying the passing scenery when suddenly one of the ladies became aware that a wasp had somehow gotten inside one leg of her pantaloons. Hastening to a more secluded area of the boat to take care of the problem was of utmost urgency but it just wasn’t happening fast enough. By now the poor wasp knew something had gone terrible wrong and was frantically trying to exit the scene The more desperate the wasp, the more it stung and moved about which of course elicited more shrieks, screams and slapping from the by this time very unhappy lady. The river guide, an Indian man focused on his work of keeping the boats in the channel had been observing this whole scene from his seat a few feet back in the main boat. By this time he was practically falling out of his chair with laughter. In the end the problem was resolved for the lady, maybe not so satisfactorily for the wasp? I heard the river guide tell the story with all the audio and motions many times.
Another trip we came across a herd of wild pigs swimming across the river. We needed meat so a few of us jumped into our dugout and gave chase while the big boats idled along. We would knock a pig over the head with a long pole, go back to the main rig and heave it onto the big boats. We had gotten several pigs this way and were out after another when we heard shouts from the big boats. Looking back we could hardly believe our eyes. Those supposedly dispatched pigs were ‘coming back to life’ running around terrorizing the passengers and finally jumping back into the river. I guess in the final analysis things didn’t end so bad after all. The pigs did get a new lease on life and and well, we still had the old standby of rice and sardines to fall back on with an abundant supply of coffee for those sardines to swim around in down there.
Once on still another trip we were tied up to the bank for the night in a backwash where the current swung us back and forth all night long. We were doing the usual preparations for a crack of dawn departure next morning when a very valuable piece of equipment fell overboard. The better part of wisdom would have left it on the bottom of the river but…….! The situation was kind of like the baby stroller incident of an earlier post except this time the river was much bigger and it was pitch black. We stuck a long pole into the bottom of the river as in the stroller case and I sent down hand under hand to the bottom and thankfully found the item on the first 360 around the pole. We all thanked the Lord!
Then there was the time four of us including the Indian river guide of the wasp story were traveling upriver in a smaller dugout at a pretty fast clip when without warning we ran onto a sand bar about an inch under water. As we ground to an abrupt stop everything and everybody was thrown unceremoniously forward. One of the missionaries was a hefty fellow who happened to land right on top of a big aluminum cooking pot completely smashing it. Our guide loved to tell and retell that story as much as he did ‘the lady and the wasp’ story.
At one time or another everybody for one reason or another ends up eating humble pie. During the rainy season of, I think it was 1996, our little school in the jungle was honored by a visit from an editor of a well known Christian periodical. I was one of the those who showed him around our neck of the woods. Actually other than jungle, water and sky there wasn’t that much you could see. The water was the highest I’d ever seen it, great for river travel but not good for seeing much dry land simply because most land was covered by the flood waters. This one day we were exploring a smaller tributary in a small flat bottomed speed boat kind of craft. Our editor had an improvised butterfly net and we were chasing this beautiful blue butterfly around the sharp bends of the river. I had forgotten this boat didn’t have any keel to speak of and as we made a very sharp turn in the chase the boat went literally right up on it’s side. We were very fortunate the boat didn’t flip over! Well, our editor friend went flying right out into the river. He lost his camera and I of course felt very badly I’d dumped him overboard. The good part is that back home in civilization he was able to replace his camera and the best part of all is that he remains a good friend to this day. There is a possibility he may read this post and I want to thank you Mr. editor for your friendship. A couple of things to remember; 1. Always make sure your boat has a good keel and 2. It’s easier to eat humble pie when your friends can laugh with you.
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