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In order to try to keep the Honduran, Nicaraguan and Costa Rican Caribbean coasts under their control, the British tried to establish what came to be known as the Mosquito Kingdom. The Mosquito Kingdom was one of the remote hinterlands of the British Empire of the 19th century and the British only half-heartily supported it; they were content to stay in Jamaica and Belize. However, they did try to create a kingdom; the Mosquito Kingdom was officially inaugurated in the year 1816 when King George Frederick II was crowned at Belize with the Anglican Church ordaining the coronation. King Frederick would be followed in 1825 by King Robert Charles Frederick. The children of the two kings would be educated in Jamaica. The two centers of the kingdom were the Nicaraguan towns of Bluefields and Greytown. The kings and their subjects would have a very cold relationship with the Spanish authorities in Nicaragua as well as the authorities of United Central American Provinces: the political body that would fill the power vacuum in Central America after the Spanish were forced to retreat out of Central America in the 1820s, with many of the Spanish finding a new home in the still Spanish colony of Cuba. The function of these British kings, who were not recognized by the Spanish nor the U.S., was to give land grants and trading concessions to British merchants – that’s why the kingdom had been created. The British cut out a monarchy on the Mosquito Coast which was centered on the Mosquito Indians that lived on the Atlantic coast of what is today Nicaragua; at the time Nicaragua was not a full fledge state and was just coming into its own after the dissolution of the United Central American Provinces in 1839 of which it was a central player. So the Atlantic side of Nicaragua was controlled by the British indirectly through the Mosquito Indians. The British brought slaves from Jamaica to the Mosquito Coast. The Mosquito Indians were famous among the British for their ability at tracking slaves – this is how the relationship between the Mosquito Indians and the British had begun - so good in fact that many Mosquito Indians would be taken to Jamaica as trackers, where they were less successful. .
In the book History Of The Bishops Of Panama there is little discussion of the Mosquito Kingdom except for one small incident that occurred towards the end of the Kingdom’s existence. The following sets the scence: During his government (Ricardo de la Parra of Colombia) there was established here the Presidio, and a House of correction for women. He ruled well, and in 1848 left; his brother Francisco taking his place who in turn left in 1849. Leaving this place to complete abandonment as the government had already withdrawn the troops a year before. In said year 1849, Bocas del Toro was added to the province of Panamá in the form of the town of Veraguas and a Mr. Ruata from Panamá came with troops and took possession. He was accompanied by a Sr. Napoleon Benitez, a captain in the capacity of Political Chief. The customs continued under his authority. While the office was vacant some lawless men who were here, seized the park, sent him (Benitez) in an English ship to Cartagena, raised the Mosquita flag and ejected several Colombians. When Sr. Ruata arrived the revolutionaries had fled, but he, by conciliatory means, recalled them and they returned to their homes. As I read further into the history of Bocas del Toro I discovered how it had originally received its name: The island
is seven leagues long and three and a half wide. Its name in the Old English
maps is the “Island of Colombus”; the one which is opposite is named “Cristobal”;
the opening to the sea is called “Bocas del Toro”. This is in front of
the town, where there is a rock, which seen from a distance resembles a
bull in the act of raising, and the Cape, which is near it, is called “Cabo
Toro”.
The history was interesting to me because it meant there had been three African communities that had come to Panamá rather than just two, which had been my previous reading of Panamanian history. The first Africans to come to Panamá had come with the original Spanish conquerors in the 1500s; they had escaped slavery and set up towns deep in the Darien Jungle beyond the control of the Spanish. These runaway slave communities were known in English as Maroon communities and they were located far from Spanish settlements. The original Africans were mostly Catholic and have experienced great social mobility in Panamá through the years. The second wave of Africans came during the building of the Canal with most coming from Jamaica, Barbados, Trinidad and Tobago; they were mostly Protestant and lived with U.S. citizens in the Canal Zone, they were very close to the U.S. community. The African community in Bocas seems to have come during the early 19th century and before and arrived from San Andres Island, now part of Colombia, and the island of Provincia. I thought about
this as we headed to Bocas on the short 50 minute flight from Panama City.
We arrived at about 11:00 in the morning on Isla Colon, the main island
in Bocas del Toro. When we arrived, the sun was shining bright and the
sky was blue and the water clear: I had been told by many people that it
rains a lot in Bocas so I was happy to arrive to sunshine. The first thing
I did was to go to sleep for a while – was tired as I had been up the night
before until 5:00 in the morning working. We were led to the hotel by some
locals who hang out at the airport and take people to hotels where they
get a small commission for giving the hotel a customer. Don’t be uptight
when they approach you in the airport and they mean you no harm; just want
to make some money by being good guides around town. There are lots of
hotels to choose from: just name the price you want to pay. Some of the
smaller hotels looked very nice and Isla Colon is filled with good restaurants.
The people of Bocas del Toro have good taste and they seem to know, based
on my limited experience, how to treat travelers and tourists. The houses
and shoppes have a nice Caribbean style; most are painted in bright pastel
colors. Our room at the Hotel Bocas del Toro was nice with a balcony
overlooking the sea; the view from the balcony was of the bay and the islands
that dot the bay. The surrounding area reminded me a lot of the Golfitios
area of Costa Rica; not a tamable place really, it would be too hard to
enclose and develop; the lay of the land isn’t made for it – I thought
it should be declared a national park.
I went to bed by noon and slept heavy until 5:00 and then took some pictures and went to drink, but we first took a walk around the town to look at some of the old hotels and back streets that were very nice - some of the more affordable hotels are located on the back streets. We walked around small cottages that were tucked into tropical shade and painted an intense blue; the outside of the houses were dotted with florescent tubes that were just being turned on as we passed by. We stopped at an Indian restaurant where a couple sat with a small dog. There was no one else around and there was still daylight; it was 6:30 or 7:00pm and so we ordered: service was excellent and food also. By the time we left the restaurant the place was packed. We ate and
walked down to the local bar on the wrong side of main street which turned
out to be an Indian campesino bar that had lots of loud music and
rough cops. We were the only non-locals. The cops were walking by and flashing
their pen-lights across our faces as Gabi, Rosi and I tried to negotiate
our way through the drunks that were hitting on them or passing out over
me. The cops never said anything to us, never approached us and we had
good relations with the cops from the moment we arrived until we left.
We talked to one of the cops and he referred us to a bar called the Mondo
Tatiu, something like that. We had one short drink there as they were
closing and then headed to the Barco Hundido (Submerged Boat); there in
fact was a submerged boat under the bar. It was lit with spotlights, so
that you could see through the water to the wreck. But before we went to
the bar we took a swim in the ocean just behind the hotel; the ocean water
was also lit up so you could see the fish and floor of the ocean; the water
was clear like a clean pool. Back we went to the Barco Hundido, lots of
Panamanian reggae which I like in smaller doses; they needed a little jazz,
Brazilian, Deodato. The place was very crowded and made up of some locals
and lots of travelers or people who have moved to Bocas to stay. There
is a large expat community that is growing in Bocas. We left some time
late that night. We talked to some people and Rosi had to dance - she liked
it - with the Indian bartender who was rubbing himself as he jumped up
and down from the floor to mid-position to falling back. I sat there and
thought to myself: "I wonder how many 20-dollar bills there are on the
floor". As we left we passed the jail where everyone was calm and it sounded
as though a party was being hatched - Gabi said she had never seen a jail
where so many people were that calm and relaxed. Back to the room and we
crashed.
The next day we got up and had lunch at one of the Italian pizzerias. Excellent pizza not cheap for Panamanian prices, but fresh and very good. Then off on the boat to Playa Zapatilla; there is a boat station on Isla Colon where you can hire boats for the day, an absolute must in order to explore Bocas. Nice ride out there and I hear the scuba diving near Zapatilla is great. The beach was small, nice and pretty except some asshole, the local representative for ANAM, which is the Panamanian natural resource agency wanted to charge us 21 bucks to sit on the beach for an hour or two. And he was sure of what he was doing. He had no identification that tied him to ANMAN, except for a shirt with the logo, not enough for me. I wanted something more official. He never produced it but he walked us off the island as well as the Spaniards down the beach who also didn't want to pay - they were asked to pay $50. In the end I thought it was probably the best thing. The island has a kind of strange tension about it and this man from ANMAN was just showing us how tension filled it could be. We headed to
nearby Coral Cay, and had some beers in a restaurant that was built over
the water and watched rain clouds form far out to sea and then watched
as the clouds engulfed Zapatillas Islands in purple and blue rain. We raced
another boat back from Coral Cay as arcs of lighting criss-crossed the
sky to the north towards the Costa Rican border. It rained a little, though
the boat was covered in canvas and we arrived back a little damp and thirsty.
We headed to the small hotel bar and had some rum and cokes and caprinias.
We were sitting at the bar and having a good time, when some people from
Italy came in, and they were very nice people who were obviously having
a good time themselves, then in walked Marco Ameglio, a local politician
who I have always liked. He was cool, had a drink and a cigarette with
us, talked to Gabi and Rosi; he never said a word to me. I’ve not met many
Panamanian politicians, but on a limited level. And on that limited level
they have always been nice. The bureaucracy is another story, not so much
mean as “what the fuck is going on here”.
On Saturday night we were told about a party that was taking place on the island of Carenero which lies directly in front of Isla Colon. We went back to the Indian Campesino bar because we figured from there we could get a ride across to Carenero where the party was taking place and we did achieve that. When we got to Carenero we went in to a large bar/hall, there was a small entrance fee, sat down and bought some beers. Everyone was facing in one direction; people were sitting on folding chairs and there were bleachers that went up to exposed light bulbs which lit up the surrounding chicken wire and rough wood. I said to Gabi "this isn’t what we think" and then we both looked up at the stage which was small, lit with a rough spotlight; about eight feet above the stage and running half covered with balloons were two half mooned shaped metal bars. Out came the strip dancers and the sad-mess-of-an-experience, but what was most interesting were the people in the surrounding crowd – native Indian men and their quiet reserved and very stoic Indian wives. The wives were dressed in a very conservative power suit-esque style. Think 1980s small town American power suit - wide lapels and padded shoulders. As the girls threw their tops and shook their torsos, yawn and yawn, the Indian women and men jumped up to look over the heads of people in front of them and went oh shit, “Carajo, mira esta Vaina.” “Look at that thing.” We stayed for only two beers and then got off the island and went back to Isla Colon to the bar, Barco Hundido. We met a crowd of Dutchmen who said they didn’t like the strip-dancing; they thought it was going to be something else, I never found out what that something might have been. The rain came late Saturday night and the next day it was still rainy and cloudy. Gabi and I walked through town, I with no umbrella or raincoat, rain on the skin after a long night felt good. We walked in the back streets and jumped around mud pools. The flight out took off at 4:30 and we were back in Panama City by 5:30. .
Real Estate In Bocas One thing: Title: does the land that you are selling me have title and get a lawyer in Panama to investigate it. The lawyers in Panama are excellent; if you think you want to come and buy get a good lawyer. What often happens in a place like Bocas is that a person will sell the same piece of land to many people, so that everyone is holding title but no one owns anything. Now there are some real estate projects up and running in Bocas and they might be O.K., but be legally covered before you pay. Hotels:
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Hiding
Out In Panama - 