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(12/19/22)
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Junglepixiebelize - Recollections of a Gringa Pioneer
Nancy R Koerner - Copyright@2022 - All Rights Reserved
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
"Alta Vista - Year of the Snake"
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Our property near Macaw Bank was not what anyone could call jungle. The land (named “Alta Vista” by former owner Danial Harris) was high and dry, on top of the mountain, with a small wooden house in the center of a barren, clear-cut flat that had been scraped clean of shade. Yet, the footpath to the river wound its way through cool, lush, high-canopy forest – exactly the kind of tropical landscape that was so sorely-needed, and so utterly lacking, on the summit. And, unlike our previous home further downriver, there was no friendly, gradual savannah here. It was steep – like mountain-goat steep – a brutal 200 foot vertical drop, over a distance of 400 feet.
Water. Water. Water. Like every other place I would ever live in Belize, water would always be the critical priority. There was tiny rain tank at the southeast corner of the house, but it was fed by a single gutter, sourcing only half the roof. Not enough, even the wet season. We would need a second tank, dedicated to river water, pumped from the valley far below, to irrigate |
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any crops that might coaxed from the stony ground. Water was needed for the goats, chickens, for washing clothes and dishes. Carrying buckets from the river was not going to happen. Not even temporarily. A five-gallon pigtail bucket of water weighed forty pounds, and was a third of my body weight. Sure, we could bathe in the river daily. (That was called “swimming.” 😁) And I had always rather enjoyed washing clothes in the river, as it had a sort of National-Geographic-romantic-allure. But no way was I going to do laundry at the bottom of the valley, and then hike up the mountain with the wet clothes in a tub on my head, and my (now two-year-old) son on my back. Nope.
So, before the complete move to Alta Vista could happen, the water system would have to be fully conceived, engineered, and installed. Again, the centrifugal pump, so appropriate to the Blackmore property, would be useless this high up. Instead, we would need a positive-displacement piston pump to handle the stupefying workload of pushing river water all the way to the top of the escarpment. In actuality, the mechanics, themselves, were exquisitely simple. First, the intake “foot” had to be suspended in the river, positioned where it wouldn’t suck mud or silt, and then properly primed. Once the engine was started, the piston fired. The vacated space sucked the water in; the piston rebounded back. This displaced the water intake, which closed the suction valve, opened the delivery valve, and pushed the water uphill. (See attached diagram of piston pump.)
AT THE RIVER:
· 1) Positive displacement piston pump, with 15’ flexible intake “foot.” The Mennonites at Spanish Lookout could order it for us from Guatemala.
· 2) Dig a level landing into the steep bank of the river, about 10 feet above dry season water level. Mix cement onsite and throw a 3’ x 4’ concrete slab, embedding large upright bolts, upon which to seat the pump.
UP THE HILL:
· 3) Install approx. 400 feet of delivery pipe, at an insanely steep angle, all the way up to the house. This would be a near super-human effort. First, we would have to find a workable trajectory through the highbush – regardless of rocky outcroppings, boulders, thorns, and thick undergrowth. Brutal. Really brutal.
· 4) Dig another level landing above the high water mark of the highest known flood level. (About 70' above the river in dry season.) Then build a small shed which would house and secure the pump when not in use. Moving the pump from the cement slab at the riverside meant manually hoisting and carrying it 60 vertical feet up to the shed. (NOTE: the dotted line on accompanying MAP. This “high water mark” would play a significant role in the future.)
AT THE TOP:
· 5) Build an elevated wooden tank stand next to the house. Use 4” x 4” santa maria for the cross beams, and 6” x 6” sapodilla posts, which would need to be buried 3’ into solid limestone karst. Because it must bear the huge weight of the water in the tank (literally, about 3 tons) the stand must be absolutely plumb, and dead-level.
· 6) Purchase a 750 gallon metal tank, dedicated to river water only, and mount it on the tank stand.
In truth, it would all be brutal. Plain and simple, the initial labors of making the property livable were beyond what one man and one woman could possibly do, especially while looking after a boisterous and curious toddler, who was always ready to harass a chicken, chase a goat, or fall down the mountain. Clearly, we would need help. So, once the equipment was purchased and onsite, my husband went to town to hire three local men to take on the heaviest tasks. As a side note: he used a clever method of evaluating their strength, ability, and work ethic: he examined the palms of their hands. If the skin was soft and smooth, they were eliminated from consideration. If their hands were hard with yellow callouses, leathery, with nicks and cuts, they were good candidates. We could only offer a modest wage, but it would be fair, and they would be well-fed.
A gringo traveler I’d met at Saturday morning market in San Ignacio told me that 1977 was the Chinese “Year of the Snake.” The term wasn’t meant to be literal, or particularly evil. Yet somehow, that designation seemed to accurately describe the grim mindset within the series of impossible missions that were our daily fare. The hammer of the merciless dry-season sun beat down on Alta Vista like an anvil. It was a harsh and gritty existence. From sun-up to sundown, every single day had to put out a near-superhuman effort of determination and endurance.
As I sweated and toiled, I thought about the women’s liberation movement that had gained so much momentum in the U.S. in recent years. I remember vaguely wondering how many men in the States could have withstood the physical challenges I now endured, even as a woman, let alone the titanic miracles that the my husband and the workmen accomplished on a daily basis…
So, before the complete move to Alta Vista could happen, the water system would have to be fully conceived, engineered, and installed. Again, the centrifugal pump, so appropriate to the Blackmore property, would be useless this high up. Instead, we would need a positive-displacement piston pump to handle the stupefying workload of pushing river water all the way to the top of the escarpment. In actuality, the mechanics, themselves, were exquisitely simple. First, the intake “foot” had to be suspended in the river, positioned where it wouldn’t suck mud or silt, and then properly primed. Once the engine was started, the piston fired. The vacated space sucked the water in; the piston rebounded back. This displaced the water intake, which closed the suction valve, opened the delivery valve, and pushed the water uphill. (See attached diagram of piston pump.)
AT THE RIVER:
· 1) Positive displacement piston pump, with 15’ flexible intake “foot.” The Mennonites at Spanish Lookout could order it for us from Guatemala.
· 2) Dig a level landing into the steep bank of the river, about 10 feet above dry season water level. Mix cement onsite and throw a 3’ x 4’ concrete slab, embedding large upright bolts, upon which to seat the pump.
UP THE HILL:
· 3) Install approx. 400 feet of delivery pipe, at an insanely steep angle, all the way up to the house. This would be a near super-human effort. First, we would have to find a workable trajectory through the highbush – regardless of rocky outcroppings, boulders, thorns, and thick undergrowth. Brutal. Really brutal.
· 4) Dig another level landing above the high water mark of the highest known flood level. (About 70' above the river in dry season.) Then build a small shed which would house and secure the pump when not in use. Moving the pump from the cement slab at the riverside meant manually hoisting and carrying it 60 vertical feet up to the shed. (NOTE: the dotted line on accompanying MAP. This “high water mark” would play a significant role in the future.)
AT THE TOP:
· 5) Build an elevated wooden tank stand next to the house. Use 4” x 4” santa maria for the cross beams, and 6” x 6” sapodilla posts, which would need to be buried 3’ into solid limestone karst. Because it must bear the huge weight of the water in the tank (literally, about 3 tons) the stand must be absolutely plumb, and dead-level.
· 6) Purchase a 750 gallon metal tank, dedicated to river water only, and mount it on the tank stand.
In truth, it would all be brutal. Plain and simple, the initial labors of making the property livable were beyond what one man and one woman could possibly do, especially while looking after a boisterous and curious toddler, who was always ready to harass a chicken, chase a goat, or fall down the mountain. Clearly, we would need help. So, once the equipment was purchased and onsite, my husband went to town to hire three local men to take on the heaviest tasks. As a side note: he used a clever method of evaluating their strength, ability, and work ethic: he examined the palms of their hands. If the skin was soft and smooth, they were eliminated from consideration. If their hands were hard with yellow callouses, leathery, with nicks and cuts, they were good candidates. We could only offer a modest wage, but it would be fair, and they would be well-fed.
A gringo traveler I’d met at Saturday morning market in San Ignacio told me that 1977 was the Chinese “Year of the Snake.” The term wasn’t meant to be literal, or particularly evil. Yet somehow, that designation seemed to accurately describe the grim mindset within the series of impossible missions that were our daily fare. The hammer of the merciless dry-season sun beat down on Alta Vista like an anvil. It was a harsh and gritty existence. From sun-up to sundown, every single day had to put out a near-superhuman effort of determination and endurance.
As I sweated and toiled, I thought about the women’s liberation movement that had gained so much momentum in the U.S. in recent years. I remember vaguely wondering how many men in the States could have withstood the physical challenges I now endured, even as a woman, let alone the titanic miracles that the my husband and the workmen accomplished on a daily basis…