Venezuelan Crude

Cheito's family drove to the Spanish fort through the weekend morning traffic, over the narrow cobblestone streets of the old city. Vendors were already out and about selling shaved ice piraguas of all flavors and oranges, peeled and with their tops cut out in little cones so that the sweet juice could be squeezed right into your mouth. They parked at the gates of the outer walls of the fort and hiked across the grassy parade ground to the main entrance. Thick limestone walls ringed the fort, once a formidable defense against pirates and marauders the likes of el Draco, Sir Francis Drake, unsuccessful in his attempt against the island, and soon after to perish of dysentery in Portobello. The sweetly peculiar smell of oil permeated the morning air. The smell got stronger as they got closer to the bridge across the moat at the entrance of the fort. They crossed the bridge, entered the main gate, crossed the courtyard and descended the long stone ramp to the main battery walls overlooking the entrance of the harbor. There across the way, they could see the ship, broken in half, grounded on the reefs along Isla de Cabras. 3 million gallons of crude oil had spilled into the clear blue Atlantic waters and spread along the beaches of the city.

Jose M. Caldas, October 2, 2013.