Tales of a Public Well and Environs: Part I of 3(The CoastWatcher: Caribbean West)
News from the Honduras Bay Islands and North Coast
30 March 2001
By Pierre Renaldo, The Coastwatcher©

When I first moved to Roatan I lived on the beach at Sandy Bay west. I call it west because Sandy Bay is a very long place that stretches from Lawson Rock (a short distance out of Coxen Hole) all the way to Gibson Bight (which is nearly into West End). It just so happens that Anthony's Key sits just about in the middle, very conveniently giving reason to refer to either Sandy Bay east or Sandy Bay west, so as to not confuse anyone about to which part of Sandy Bay was being mentioned.

Also, I say we lived "on the Beach" but in reality our cottage was located on a bluff almost 50 feet higher than the Caribbean Sea and a good thirty meters back from the waters edge. There was nothing between us and the surf line but a rickety staircase leading down to the sand, and directly to the locale of the public well. It was there that I first became aware that there was such a thing as a public well, not fifteen feet from the water's edge; a 'fresh (and I use the words advisedly) water' source for many households that did not enjoy running water within or in close proximity to their abode.

On the very first morning of our residency we observed many early morning visitors to this public facility, each carrying some sort of vessel, which each in turn dipped into the mouth of the well. There were big strong men, and little kids and people of all sizes. Some of the kids were so small that they almost disappeared down the well trying to reach in for the big dip.

The well was defined by a low concrete block wall, encompassing an area of about one meter square and projecting out of the beach sand about three feet. The visibility was unobstructed between our screened porch and the area around this popular meeting place.

We did have a few banana trees growing at the beach side of our house, and from down below, almost anywhere near the well, it appeared that no one who may by chance be gazing downward from our seemingly concealed porch could have any kind of view of persons who were gathered around the public well. We were not cognizant of this fact until much later on in this story.

One other factor that helped to obscure the existence of our lookout post was that we were the first residents ever to occupy this house, and the public who usually gathered at the watering hole was unaware at this point in time, that there were any occupants in the newly built house. There had never been a house there before and no people either. As a result, we were unwittingly treated to some very hilarious antics, rivaling the most humorous episodes of the old TV program, 'Hidden Camera.'

In fact, the comics of old time burlesque could not have imagined or written any funnier sketches than we saw daily, usually without the knowledge of the actors. After a time when some of them caught on, we witnessed many of the participants 'ham it up' while others, now aware of our presence, continued the business at hand with the usual urgency, indifferent to their audience. Some of our first time guests were startled at the sights, even slightly embarrassed.

We pretended not to notice the ongoing show when we had company, thereby adding to the hilarity that would come later at the expense of our unwary visitors. They were often as much fun to watch as the antics down at the well. We still laugh when we talk of our friend Carolyn who went out of control with mirth on her first exposure to the Public Well at Sandy Bay west.

Miss Twinkle Toes Has Her 'Lucky Day'

On our very first morning as residents at Sandy Bay west, Mistress Gloria decided to have a swim, a nice workout in the crystal waters that beckon all viewers. When she reached the sand at the bottom of the stairs, she slipped out of her brand new Birkenstock sandals, acquired only a few weeks earlier, and headed for the cool refreshing waters.

At almost the same instant a young woman arrived at the well, carrying a load of clothes in a basket balanced on top of her head. She dragged a wash tub in one hand and an empty beer case in the other, and as I soon observed, took up residence next to the water hole. As she filled the washtub, she glanced around not noticing me on the porch and immediately spied the sandals just sitting by themselves at the bottom of the stairs, not doing any good for anybody. She decided to have a closer look.

'What good fortune', she must have been thinking. 'Why these sandals look brand new! Who would just abandon something this nice on the beach?' She then slipped her feet into the newfound gift, noticing that they were somewhat too large, but nonetheless a gift from heaven, just for her. She then took off running to wherever she had come from, clippity-clopping along noisily, marveling at her good luck.

I yelled out to her, "Those shoes belong to my wife!", but to no avail of course, because she obviously did not understand English, or chose not to understand it just then. My neighbor, upon hearing me yell, ran down the steps in front of his house, giving chase to the maiden in the oversized Birkenstocks. I could hear him calling in Spanish, something to the affect that he knew who she was, and that she would not get away with this dastardly deed, because he also knew where she lived.

Good old Fred. He returned with the sandals followed moments later by a much chagrined young woman who thought she was going to have a 'lucky day'. Mistress G. landed a short time later unaware that her shoes had gone for a walk without her.

Many of the ladies who came to the well to wash clothes, frequently drenched their own bodies with water in an effort to keep cool while doing their scrub-a-dubs. They seemed unconcerned that a wet tee shirt concealed almost nothing hidden beneath it. While these laundresses were scrubbing away, we witnessed some interesting jiggling of female appendages. Exotic dancers could have hardly performed with more vigor. (To be continued.)

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I have been getting such a great response from readers who have seen Part One of "How to Avoid the Pitfalls: Building Your Dream Home" in the March issue of Roatan Insights, that I am going to print excerpts from another part of the trilogy in the April issue. You can preview these books on my web site by clicking on http://www.eroatan.com/cgi-bin/pierre.cgi?books

How to Survive in Third World Retirement: The Handbook is an invaluable tool for those of you who are considering retiring in third world paradise. Watch for excerpts in the next issue of Roatan Insights. That's all for this week.

I'm always happy to answer your questions with honest and timely answers. Just drop me a line at: elouis@globalnet.hn.

Ciao, Pierre

By Pierre Renaldo, Mountain Coastal S.A,. General Contractors, Construction Management and Construction Consultants.