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NOVEMBER 1968

t

X
\Y P. Leber, Governor-President

R. S. Hahtmne, Lieutenant Governor A=S^I J^^fel

Morgan E. Goodwin, Press Officer

Publications Ed itors Theodore Barrington, Tomas A. Cupas

Frank A. Baldwin

Panama Canal Information Officer

Editorial Assistants Eunice Richard, Tobi Bittel, Fannie

P. Hernandez, and Jose T. Tunon

Official Panama Canal Publication Published quarterly at Balboa Heights, C.Z.

Printed at the Printing Plant, La Boca, C.Z. Review articles may be reprinted in full or part without

further clearance. Credit to the Review will be appreciated. Distributed free of charge to all Panama Canal Employees.

Subscriptions, $1 a year; airmail $2 a year; mail and back copies (regular mail), 25 cents each.

Postal money orders made payable to the Panama Canal Company should he mailed to Box M, Balboa Heights, C.Z

Editorial Offices are located in the Administration Building, Balboa Heights, C.Z.

3ndex

Panama Golf Club 2

Piriatas 6

New Lieutenant Governor 9

Panama's Boat Builders 10

Anniversaries 12

Canal History 13

Chiriqui Highlands 14

Modern Medicine 18

Work Down Under 21

Shipping Story, Statistics 24

Shipping Notes 27

c4bout Our Cover

THE PAINTING on the cover of this issue of The

Panama Canal Review shows an area of 50th Street

in Panama City during 1925. Today, this region is part of the Panama Golf Club. The original painting

is the work of Louis Celerier, a retired professor who

lives in Longview, Tex. Celerier is French by birth

but is a naturalized citizen of Panama.

Begining on this page is an article about the

Panama Golf Club, telling how it started with little more than a bohio and a cow pasture, as shown on

the cover. Enthusiastic love of the game plus imagination on the part of a few persons served as vital ingredients in building it into the beautiful layout

it is today.

The Canal Zone's new Lieutenant Governor, Col.

Richard Sides Hartline, and his family are introduced

to our readers in an article on page 9. THEY'RE NOT JUST

GOLF: A game widely played since

the 15th century, by gentlemen driving, putting, whacking, or otherwise

devastating a little white ball whose

role is to follow a fixed trajectory across a course and terminate by

plopping into a small hole in the center of a green. This sport, of no mean skill, provides 20th century man with three basic needs—

to excel, to expound, and to explode. —Golfer's Dictionary.

That daffynition failing, it should

be rephrased to more accurately

mirror the game's magnetism: "There

is thinking about playing it, there is playing it, and then there is thinking

about having played it." About 50 years ago, a few fellows

were sitting around Panama thinking

about playing it, without much playing. So they began to weigh the problem. When they decided it wasn't overwhelming, they set about

to build a golf club. In the words of John Westman, the proclamation

went something like this: "When Admiral Johnston, General

Morrow, don Francisco Arias Paredes

and don Raul Espinosa, decided that the pastures of Las Sabanas could be

transformed into a golf course, the Duke jumped up on the bandwagon,

threw off a keg of Balboa Best Brewed, and hollered, FORE!"

Thus was bom the Panama Golf

Club, or, as it is known today, the Club de Golf de Panama, S.A. The

exuberance of the Duke of Balboa

(the late Theodore McGinnis) as he

lent spirit to the commencement was

not a passing thing—except that he

passed it on to the members who fol- lowed. Their enthusiasm can only be

expressed as passion. They swing,

and putt, and smile—or explode—

with equal equanimity. The difficulty of exploding with equanimity is a secret only a gentleman golfer knows.

Golfs affinity to explosions, at the Panama Golf Club or any other, is not recent. In fact, it may have all started because of an explosion. In 15th century Scotland, the parliament of King James II decreed that "... golfe is to be utterly cryed

downe, and not to be used—the

November 1968
sporte interferes with the practise of archerie—an essential defence of the realme." But as the end of that century drew closer to an end, gun- powder was invented and suddenly

archery declined—so much so that by the time James IV came along in 1473 he was an avid golfer. Forty

years later, even Mary, Queen of Scots was teeing off. The sport thus has a noble back- ground, and somewhat like the Nobel

Prize, got started more because of —rather than with—a bang. But not

at the Panama Golf Club. They

were not going to wait around too long before they could get a game

up—and they did—with one hole, a bohio, and a cow pasture. They

played on sand greens. They fenced

out cows. They scratched— (chiggers). They saw their precious

sand greens washed away every

time it rained. They built them back

up. They added others. And—they

played golf. Besides Westman himself, who

was treasurer of the club for 45

years, there were many mainsprings

in the early club—among them Col. Jay J. Morrow (later to become

governor of the Canal Zone), Johnny

Putter (the famous journalist Jules Dubois) and the already-mentioned

Duke of Balboa (manager of the forerunner to today's Cerveceria

Nacional.) With the spirited imagination and wrv humor so characteristic of golfers, thev went ahead im-

+**kk

Expert Alberto Sarra (he's the Club pro) and current Panama Golf Club Woman's

champion Fusae Takahashi team up for some twin-putting. Sarra has been

instrumental in further professionalizing the course layout.

It was a sizable problem. But, as with Col. Morrow directing the re- pair of sand greens, there always

sweet—for the knowledge of having

built the club from nothing. The

original club site was on what is now PUTTING AROUND

proving their club until the game be- came cowless, chiggerless, and a man

could exult or explode at the pure game itself and not at the vagaries

of nature. "But not overnight," Westman

adds, "did all this happen." With

a twinkle in his eye, this septuagenarian golfer who still plays the game

and plavs it well, relates some of the early club problems with fond

memory, ". . . although we weren't

so fond of some of the problems we

had. Take the chiggers. Now, you

know what kind of concentration a good golf shot takes. Can you imagine trying to make a drive when

vou're one massive itch? That's how

many chiggers we had!"

seemed to be somebody in the membership with the answer. Chiggers

became the project of Dr. William

M. James. "He had an effective, if powerful,

solution," Westman says. "Before we

went out to play, we would lather our bodies with a mixture of sul- phur and Lifebuoy soap. That kept

the chiggers off—I assure you. They

left right away. But you never knew

if your wife would let you in the house that night. Doc James' lather was a little stronger than modern

insect-repellant." But later, as the course grew

greener and the members' tenacitybegan to pay off in other improvements, the playing became twice as

Calle 86-A. The present site, close- by, covers 155 beautiful acres and

is a course the pros rave about. The clubhouse was built in 1931,

has been expanded since with a complete pro shop, and ranks with some

of the finest clubs in the world.

Since the early club was built, and as it later developed into the

present one, there has never been a

lack of incident, nor the good humor

to face problems with grace as well

as courage.

"Col. Morrow was particularly of

this bent," Westman says. "His

humor was extra dry, even for a

golfer. Once, B. C. Poole drove out

(See p. 4)

The Panama Canal Review
PUTTING AROUND

(Continued from p. 3)

for a game in a PanCanal govern- ment car. He parked it right out

front, came in, and got his clubs. When he walked out, Col. Morrow

was standing next to Poole's car, dusting off the PanCanal emblem

with a handkerchief. 'You want to always keep that symbol pretty, B.

C.,' the colonel said. Poole stopped

short, turned back into the club- house, came back out and drove the

car to his office. He returned 20

minutes later—in his own car."

Westman's Anecdotes

Westman's anecdotes about the

old club are innumerable, but the

best ones he tells are on himself. At

an all-male luncheon held at the end

of a tournament one year honoring

those members who had taken part

in the official preparation for it, he

rose at the table after the others had

listed their various distinctions,

and said: "I'm delighted that each of you

had a particular role to fill in this

last tourney, but you're probably un- aware that this year my function was

unique—a distinction not likely ever

to be equaled in this club." The heads at the table turned,

wondering what the distinction could

be. Westman told them. "I saved

eight of your wives from possible

death by drowning, or panic, at the party last night."

The heads turned some more.

"Last night," Westman said, "at

about 2:30 a.m., there were screams coming from the Ladies Room. I mean—lots of screams. There was

4 inches of water on the floor. I found the trouble, a stoppage in the plumbing which I fixed—dressed in my tuxedo. You're lucky I don't bill the club for cleaning it." The members roared, and thanked Westman

for his nocturnal chivalry.

Best-known Names

The club has had some of the best-known names in Panama for president, among them the late Louis

Martinz and Dr. Frank A. Raymond,

and Richard L. Dehlinger—the only

three ever elected to the post twice. The presidency alternates between

a Panamanian and an "extranjero"

The front entrance to Panama Golf Club—a far cry from the Bohio it was in 1918.

4 November 1968
each year. Current president is Geoffrey Lee, general manager of Tabacalera Istmena which is chief sponsor of the Panama Open each

year. A native of England but a Pan- ama resident for 12 years, Lee shoots

in the high 70's. He has only praise

for the evolution of the club from

early beginnings to the modern

facility it is today.

Club Pro Sarra

Part of the continuing improve- ments have been due in the last 5

years to Club Pro Alberto Sarra, an Argentinian who came with

plans of only staying a year, and

has remained five. "He's turned our club from a good one to a better one—to one the

pros rave about," Lee says. "The only

thing is, 1 hope we can hold

onto him."

Sarra redesigned several tees, greens and traps and laid out new

landscaping for some areas. The results are such that Lee says of him:

"He's a fine golfer, knows the game

intimately, but his first love is build- ing or improving golf courses. He

does exactly that." Continuing accomplishment and

loyalty permeate the Panama Golf

Club. For example, there is Mrs. Norma L. de Crisopulos, accountant and all-round administrative girl for 26 years. For a long time, she and

Westman just about ran the club,

but now—with a membership of al- most 600—Norma has two assistants.

La Touche, Another Landmark

Another landmark at the club is Aubrey La Touche, who has been

with them 40 years. He has been

everything—bartender, waiter, chauffeur, and locker room attendant. "When you want to get it done—see Aubrey," is the byword. Another

loyal employee is waiter Gooding

McMillan, with 24 years' service.

Current Officers Current officers are Alfonso Brid, vice president; Dr. Juan Correa, secretary; and Bob Chandler, treasurer. President Lee has been on the 14-member board in the past, and

has served in vaiious committee

responsibilities.

The club, celebrating its 50th

Anniversary this year, will host the 1968 Central American Golf TourWinner and still champ—John Westman, long-time patriarch of the club, holds up

one of its many trophies. Owner of Office Service Co., Westman joined the club when it was 1-year old in 1919, and served as treasurer for 45 (count' em) years.

nament this month. Teams of eight

from each of the six Central American nations will compete. A busy

week of activity is slated, including

formal flag ceremonies of the participating countries, dances, parties,

and of course, a celebration awarding

the prizes.

Probably playing in this tourna- ment will be Anibal Galindo, pres- ent club champion, and Jaime de la Guardia, whom Lee calls the finest

Geoffrey Lee, current president of the Panama Golf Club, and general manager of Tabacalera Istmena, is just completing a year's term as Club prexy.

player on the Isthmus. Sandy Hinkle

and Roberto Duran just finished representing Panama in the Dominican Republic Invitational Tournament, where they placed third in a field of 20 countries.

Club's Woman Champ

The club's woman champion is Fusae Takahashi, 21-year-old daughter of. the Japanese Ambassador to Panama, also a member.

Best of Pros The best of the pros have played

the Panama course, and Arnold

Palmer played in one of his first major tournaments here in 1957. The

club has had an Open every year

since 1952, when Sam Snead and

Roberto DeVicenzo competed. Plans

are going ahead for the 1969 tourna- ment, which is expected to be

played the week before Carnival. As always, there will be players in this Open excelling, expounding and

exploding—but then, that is what

good golf is all about—if done with

equal equanimity. At the Panama

Golf Club, a player never loses it. TBB.

The Panama Canal Review
y[ou Can t (Eeat PihataA

£*

ANYONE WHO has ever been to a

children's birthday party in Latin

America knows how much joy is generated by a festive-bedecked object

suspended from the ceiling, a bal- cony, or the branch of a tree on the

patio. Hidden within the trappings

of this brightly colored creation,

which may look like a bird, an ani- mal, a fish, or any number of things,

is a treasure chest of surprises. The

treasure chest is called a "pinata." In it are many kinds of candy, fruits, nuts, and even small toys for the young guests.

Usually made of papier mache

and filled to the brim with these

goodies, the pinata holds the promise

of magic for the intent youngsters

who hit at it over and over again

with a lowly broomstick. And, oh,

what excitement and merriment

I

when it is finally broken by the vio- lent thrust of a stick-wielding attacker, its contents spilling to the floor, and the frantic scramble for goodies

is on! The pinata originated in Italy, probably in the early 16th century,

when people used to think up hometype amusements. They played

guessing games, told stories, presented skits, and often played tricks on

a blindfolded player. In one of the games, a cone-shaped earthenware

pot, containing goodies of the day, was suspended from the rafters, swung around a bit, and broken with

a stick. The Italians called it pignatta, from pigna, which means "pine

cone-shaped."

Italian adventurers took the pig- natta custom to Spain and there it became pinata. The Spanish pinata

was an ordinary clay pot, the "olla" used for food or water. The rough,

unsightly olla often was camouflaged

bv putting figures around it. These

probably were the first efforts to decorate the squatty round pot which

evolved into the myriad of elaborate

pinatas of today.

The Spaniards gave the pinata a

religious significance and designated

the first Sunday in Lent as Pinata

Sunday. The pinata was broken at a masquarade ball on that day with

the treats tumbling down on the masked dancers. As rime went on, the pinata cus- tom waned in Spain but became popular in Latin America. Probably, it came with the Spanish explorers to the New World about 400 vears ago —most likely to Mexico first. Although it has undergone changes

6 November 1968
LLnleJJ you re Strong, Cnough

Guests are warned to give the stick-wielding player ample swinging room as Guillermo Eduardo Bricefio, son of Dr. and Mrs.

Alejandro Briceno J. of Panama City, takes his turn at breaking the windmill pinata at his birthday party.

in structure since its humble beginning, the pinata game has remained more or less the same. The custom

continues in Spain and Italy and has

spread to many other countries, such

as Portugal, British Honduras, several South American countries (west

coast), all of Central America, Pan- ama, Mexico, the United States, and

Canada.

History shows that in Mexico the

pinata retained its religious connotation, but instead of a Lenten tra- dition it became, with the passing of

years, a Christmas festivity. The pi- nata came to be associated with the posada, the procession of neighbors

which takes place the nine nights before Christmas and symbolizes the Holy Family's struggle to find shelter. The group goes from house to house and is refused lodging until

it is welcomed at the last house. Here, the pinata is broken and every- body gets a treat. While often a fun activity for children, the pinata also is enjoyed

by adults. In areas of northern Italy, for example, three pinatas are filled —one may contain ashes or flour, the second, water, and the third will have the goodies. To the delight of the onlookers, the blindfolded player can only guess which of the three he should aim for. Guests are warned

to give the broomstick-wielder plenty

of "swinging room."

In another variation of the game,

the entire contents of the pinata go

to the one who succeeds in breaking

it. In this version, an extra-hard baked clay pot is probably used. In Venezuela, a beautifully decorated, bell-shaped pinata of papier

mache or cardboard is filled with

rice and suspended near a doorway.

With a pull of a ribbon, newlyweds

passing through the door are showered bv a cascade of rice. The tradi- tional birthday pinata in this South

American country is large and very

elegant. In Costa Rica, the pinata has re- tained its colonial simplicity. A clay

pot, brim-filled with goodies, is still the usual custom at children's parties and only recently have the dec- orated papier mache or cardboard

variety of pinatas appeared at Costa Rican parties.

>-The broomstick is missing from

the Cuban pinata, and the children

pull at gay ribbon streamers attached

to the papier mache pinata which

virtually pours out its contents with

each yank at the streamers. In Guatemala, as in Mexico, the

pinata is associated with the posadas,

and in both countries the clay pot

is still the thing. At Christmas time,

a party is not a real party without

a pinata. Of special interest is the Judas pinata which appears in certain parts of Mexico the day before

Easter. Armed with sturdy sticks, the Mexicans figuratively, and almost

literally, beat the devil out of Judas. A most charming surprise is a pinata used in Ecuador where two

or three beautifully decorated figures

(See p. 8)

The Panama Canal Review
Pinatas

(Continued from p. 7) are hung together for the fiesta. One

or two contain the usual goodies.

The other, when shattered, liberates

live birds! Imagine the children's shouts of glee at the flutter of wings!

Another lovely pinata custom for a young lady's 15th birthday party

is a basket-shaped pinata filled with

roses. In Panama, the pinata is always

found at children's parties and fre- quently at baby showers and fare- wells, and just about any fiesta. Starting about 20 years ago, the papier mache and bag version of the

pinata began to replace the "olla de

barro." Several pinata makers, working in their homes or at their places

of business, are presently supplying

at least five or six specialtv shops in Panama City with beautifullv execut- ed pinatas in a varietv of shapes and

color combinations ranging from

elaborate airplanes and rabbits to a simple decorated paper bag. Should

a particular shaped pinata not be

readily available, expert hands will create the appropriate one for the season or the occasion. In recent years, United States

tourists in Panama have discovered

the gay and delightful pinatas and

have taken them home. Panama

shops are proud of filling pinata or- ders for customers as far awav as Ohio and New York Citv and cities in South America. It has been found

that the attractive pinata, filled with

small gifts, goodies of all kinds and

gag gifts, is an excellent wav to get a party on its way or to spread good

cheer during the holidays.

A pinata provides fun and gives the participants an opportunitv to break something—at times, a most

satisfying experience. Because of the unlimited range of shape, color, and

content, the pinata mav be adapted

to almost any festive occasion. Perhaps the easiest way to make

a pinata is the balloon and papier

mache method: blow up a big bal- loon and tie a knot at the neck. Hang

it up and cover the balloon with

four of five layers of papier mache.

After this has dried, let the air out

of the balloon and remove it. Cut a

hole at the top big enough to receive

f /,V - -_ _

~

" t

Jeffrey Morgan, broomstick in hand, looks on as his little friends scramble for the

lollipops that have just spilled from the pinata at his birthday party. Jeffrey is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Morgan of Los Rios.

the candy and small gifts. Tie a criss- cross of heavy twine around the pi- nata, gathering the long ends of the twine at the top. Put more papier

mache over this, and when it is drv

decorate it with brightlv colored crepe paper. For those who know how to work

with papier mache, it is the ideal method for making pinata animals

and figures. There are no rules and

no color specifications. Imagination

has no limit, and the resulting pinata

is so beautiful that the guests are

often sorry to break it. A papier

mache pinata is much harder to break

than the earthenware pots. This

provides opportunities for more tries at spilling the treasure chest inside.

Another method for making a pi- nata is bv using a large, strong paper bag and cardboard, and anvthing

that can be sewed, stapled or glued

to it to give it shape and make it sturdy. The bag, when decorated

with crepe paper, can be converted

(See p. 26)

Cardboard, glue, crepe paper, and deft hands at work making the fun-giving pinata. Mrs. Araceli Diaz also makes party favors seen on shelf at right.

November 1968
New Lt Gov.

Arrives at

Crucial Tiime

AT NOON on October 11, Col. Richard Sides Hartline, serving as Acting Governor of the Canal Zone

for the first time since his arrival 8 days earlier, attended a military

ceremony at Old Panama at which

command of the Panama National

Guard changed hands.

At midnight, he was in conference

with Washington by telephone, re- porting on the military coup which

brought about a change of govern- ment in the Republic. The events posed high-level decisions by the United States, with the Canal Zone

suddenly becoming a temporary ref- uge for the principal figures of the ousted regime.

It was a swift introduction for the new Lieutenant Governor to the oft- times unusual responsibilities of his new post in a unique area—the Canal Zone. He and his family had just settled

in their new home at Balboa Heights. For Mrs. Hartline it had meant a change-over from suburban living in the Washington, D.C., area; for Colonel Hartline, the change-over was

from duty in Vietnam.

A tall professional soldier engineer,

Colonel Hartline has been on the move ever since he was graduated

from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point in 1945. He has served

in the Philippines, Okinawa, Ger- many, Korea and Vietnam. He was

born in Goshen, N.Y.

Mrs. Hartline, the former Harriet Dicke, was born in Salt Lake City,

Utah, but lived most of her youth

in Allentown, Pa., and Boston, Mass. She met her husband while he was

studying for his master's degree in

civil engineering at Massachusetts

Institute of Technology.

Their son Douglas, who soon will be 17, was born in Albuquerque,

Lt. Gov. and Mrs. Richard Sides Hartline, with their daughter, Nancy. For Mrs.

Hartline and their children, Nancy and Douglas, this is the first time they have made their home in the tropics.

N. Mex., and their daughter Nancy,

12, arrived when the Hardines were

stationed on Okinawa.

The family has a wide variety of

interests. Colonel Hartline, who

played football and lacrosse when

he was at West Point, now favors handball. He promptly found other handball enthusiasts on the Isthmus

and had a game lined up soon after

his arrival. Mrs. Hartline modestly describes

herself as an average housewife and

mother. She is a self-taught seamstress and an enthusiastic gardener,

but her deepest interest is in painting, a hobby she took up in Germany.

Son Douglas has an overpowering

enthusiasm for football. A star member of the football team at Annandale

High School, near Washington, he

will join his parents on the Isthmus

after the stateside football season is over. He will be a senior at Balboa

High School. Daughter Nancy already is enrolled in the seventh grade at Curundu Junior High. Okinawaborn, Nancy is in line as the second

member of a Canal Zone Lieutenant

Governor's family to obtain a U.S.

citizenship certificate here. Another member of the Hartline

family is to be residing soon at the Lieutenant Governor's house at Bal- boa Heights. He is Mrs. Hartline's

father, Henry Dicke, a lively 87-year- old retired corporation executive

and engineer. He also has traveled

extensively in Iran as a consultant. This is the first time that the

entire Hartline family will be to- gether outside the temperate zone. Their first reaction: Love at first sight

with the Isthmian landscape.

The Panama Canal Review 9
Boatbuilders of Panama

"OS BARCOS pesqueiros da INAPE foram fabricados pelos estaleiros DECO MARINE S.A.-do Panama.

A Deco e industria de muito res- peto. Seu know-how e da melhor

importacao."

That was from "O Cruzeiro," the mass circulation Brazilian magazine,

and translates: "INAPE's fishing boats were built by the DECO MARINE S.A. shipyards-in Panama.

Deco is a highly respected industry.

Its know-how is of the highest

importance."

In all of Central America, there

is nothing that equals Deco Marine.

Started 8 years ago as a ship re- pair facility, it has expanded in the

last 2 years into a full-fledged shipyard specializing in fishing vessels- and its reputation is now known

throughout the hemisphere.

"O Cruzeiro's" tribute to Deco's know-how is a good example of how

this has been achieved. When Brazil's fishing industry asked for designs

for its growing fleet of shrimp trawlers, Deco Marine's plans were chosen

FISHING VESSELS FOR BRAZIL-At Deco Marine shipyard in Panama City Panaman.an craftsmen trained in the shipyard are building three fishing boatTfa

a Brazilian company.

in competition with 37 others from

Latin American, European and

United States bidders. Deco's knowhow was the key.

Unique Chill Tanks

A unique feature of the Deco-built

fishing vessels is the chill tanks for storing the catch while the boat is at sea. Deco has patented a glass-fiber tank so well insulated that even in the case of compressor failure the water temperature in the tank loses only 1 to 2 degrees in 5 days. Every

boat being built by Deco for Brazil's INAPE-Industria Nacional de Pes- ca-will carry 10 of these tanks, each

with a capacity of 2,200 pounds.

Another feature of Deco-built boats

is that they can be converted from

shrimp trawlers into purse—seiners

in just 2 days.

The three vessels now being

constructed in the Deco shipyard

for Brazil are scheduled for delivery

in early 1969. Eventually, Deco may

build as many as 30 boats for INAPE,

ranging from 76- to 100-footers at an average cost of $100,000 each. Already, Deco is eyeing boat

building contracts in El Salvador,

Ecuador, Venezuela and possibly

Nicaragua.

10-Acre Site The Deco shipyard covers 10 acres

in San Francisco de la Caleta, a sub- urban section of Panama City. It is located on the only spot along the

entire Pacific coast of the Isthmus

that has a rock-bottom basin and a natural rock-bottom channel to sea.

Texas-Born Contractor The choice of the site for the shipyard is typical of the way Joseph

M. "Mike" Byrne does things. A

Texas-born contractor who came to the Isthmus 30 years ago, he was

in the paint business for years until

his interest switched to fishing vessels. This occurred in about 1960

when shrimp fishing became the fast- est growing industry in Panama.

Like many others, Byrne was aware

that there were no haul-out facilities for the mushrooming shrimping fleet. Boats had to be careened on the

November 1968
beaches for repairs; laying a keel or replacing a shaft or a propeller were

next to impossible.

Finding the 10-acre site was the

first break for Bvrne. Buying the land from the various owners was a complicated process, but Deco finally

became the sole title-holder to the 10 acres. A Modest Beginning

Operations began on a modest

scale, limited to repairs of small boats—one at a time. The original

work force numbered seven men. One 80-ton cradle was all that was

available for drydocking vessels.

Deco's expansion started when

Bvrne brought into his organization A. J. "Tony" Ghiloni, a graduate

naval architect from California with

40 years' experience in the design and

construction of fishing vessels. Ghiloni had operated his own shipyard in Puntarenas, Costa Bica, before coming to Panama to work for a shrimping firm. When the latter went out

of business, Ghiloni joined Deco.

It was the use of fiber-glass in the

manufacture of chill tanks, vents,

stacks, and sinks that started Deco's

reputation growing. These Deco- made installations proved so superior

to those made of galvanized iron that as word of them spread among

the fishing companies, orders poured

in—and Deco's reputation grew.

Deco Builds and Repairs

So did its customers. Deco Marine

provides repair and maintenance

services for U.S. Armed Forces sea- going craft and for tuna clippers and

yachts. It also builds sand and

oil barges, ferry boats, launches,

and unsinkable fiber-glass lifeboats. About 2 vears ago, the Panama Refinerv contracted with Deco Marine

for the maintenance of all its vessels. This required substantial expansion

of the shipyard facilities which in turn led to shipbuilding operations.

It was typical of Deco that the

first steel-hulled shrimp trawlers it turned out for local companies were

better than any other operating in these latitudes. Their biggest feature was a marked increase in efficiency

—the Deco boats could fish at 100

TONY AND MIKE-A. J. "Tony" Ghiloni, left, and Joseph M. "Mike" Byrne are the top men at Deco Marine. Ghiloni, a graduate naval architect, directs shipbuilding

and repair operations. Byrne founded Deco Marine and has made it the largest operation of its kind in Panama.

fathoms in comparison with the 35

fathoms that was the maximum for the small wooden trawlers then in

use. This was achieved by increasing the length from .50-60 feet to 76

feet and up, installing more powerful engines, hydraulic winches, and

enough cable to shrimp at a depth

of 100 fathoms.

In the past 2 years, Deco Marine

has turned out about 25 fishing vessels. And its spectacular growth

seems to have no limit in the fore- seeable future.

More Than 40 Boats a Year Deco now is equipping to build 40-50 vessels a year and—more important—has the business to reach

that capacity. It has cut construction time from 13 months to 5. It can

handle 15 vessels simultaneously for repairs and can accommodate boats

of up to 1,200 displacement tons.

Its work force numbers 200 men at present—all of them Panamanians

trained in the shipyard by a "revolv- ing school" svstem. When full capacity is reached, the work force will be more than doubled to 500 men. The shipyard has become selfsufficient with its own foundry, propeller repair and balancing shop,

diesel engine overhaul shop, wood

mill, and machine shop. Plans are underway to enlarge and length- en the larger haul-outs. Safety—

a

watchword at Deco—is being in- creased by an addition to the break- water protecting the drydocking

operations.

High Caliber Work

The high caliber of shipwork

done bv Deco is indicated by the

fact that its vessels are certified by

the American Bureau of Shipping:

the efficiency of its work force by

the absence of a single major acci- dent since the shipyard was established; the growth of its operations

bv the fact that Deco is now a $2

million facility. At the age of retirement, Mike

Byrne speaks with youthful enthusi- asm of bigger things to come at Deco, his creation.

"I love action," is his simple

explanation. "And this is where the

action is."

The Panama Canal Review 11
ANNIVERSARIES^

(On the basis of total Federal Service)

MARINE BUREAU

John A. Redway

Launch Dispatcher

Hubert A. Thompson

Clerk Norman A. Bennett Helper Electrician Alvin A. Bracey

Seaman

TRANSPORTATION AND

TERMINALS BUREAU

Pedro Urriola Lead Foreman (Materials Handling)

Telfield D. Landers Truck Driver SUPPLY AND COMMUNITY

SE/f|CE

Emanue^

Ba, Mic

A

Arthur L. Superv

Clerk Azariah C. Coke

Clerk-Typist

Victoriano Ortega Laborer (Heavy)

ENGINEERING AND

CONSTRUCTION BUREAU

Winfield Ford

Cargo Classification Specialist Jose Arias Leader Core-Drilling

Eric T. Nevers Truck Driver Sidney I. Brooks Paver

Harris Campbell

Asphalt or Cement Worker

ance

PERSONNEL BUREAU

James A. Yates Supervisory Personnel Staffing and

Employee Relations Specialist

MARINE BUREAU

Thomas J. Ebdon, Jr. Supervisory General Engineer

Leroy Griffiths Cargo Classification Specialist

John Stephens Motor Launch Operator

Eric A. Greene

Oiler-Floating Plant

Victor M. Luscap

Time and Leave Clerk Wilfred E. Rawlins Seaman

John B. Willis

Lock Operator (Operating EngineerHoisting Equipment)

Cristopher L. Lynch

Helper Lock Operator

George Palmer

Linehandler

Irvin F. Headley

Oiler Bernardo Frio

Oiler Albert S. Hunter Motor Launch Operator

Ervin A. Rolli Guard Supervisor

Edward J. Friedrich Chief Foreman Machinist (Marine)

TRANSPORTATION AND

TERMINALS BUREAU

Henry L. Davis

Maintenanceman-Rope and Wire

Cable

Wilfred A. Melise Guard

Ruben E. Douglas

School Bus Driver W. W. Wellington

Stevedore George A. Grimes

Chauffeur

Charles E. Chase

Leader Liquid Fuels Wha

Santos Estrada

Stevedore

Gilbert G. Wilson

Automotive Mecha

Fender)

Arthur A. Lewis

Truck Driver SUPPLY AND COMMUNITY

SERVICE BUREAU

Lilias I. Hurley

Cargo Classification Specialist

John F. Manning

Program Manager (General Manager)

Walter G. Thorne

Field Tractor Operator

Kenneth T. Bowen

Truck Driver

Violet L. Cave

Sales Store Checker

Prince Bennett Meat Cutter Harry A. Dockery

Distribution Facilities Officer Ulpiano Marmolejo

Cemetery Worker

Lazaro Martinez Garbage Collector Thomas H. Riley

Truck Driver

Fitzgerald White

Warehouseman

Sibert F. R. Haynes

Supervisory Supply Clerk Wilfred A. Richards Leader Crane Hookman

Herman A. Reid

Assistant Baker

Linton G. Roberts Clerk

C. L. Brathwaite Laborer (Heavy)

ENGINEERING AND

CONSTRUCTION BUREAU

William H. Egger

Central Office Repairman

Lothen E. Boyd

Cement Finisher Harold J. Charles Hot Water Tank Repairman

William H. Fergus

Oiler-Floating Plant-Boom

Norton B. Stephenson

Administrative Assistant Antenor J. de la Rosa Leader Blaster Clarence G. Wilson

Painter

Irvin C. Boyce

Ration Light Serviceman

Plant)

neral Engineer

(Facilities and

Repair)

John E. Ridge, Jr. Water System Operator

David Murrain

Pipelayer

Clyde E. Boxill Painter

Ira G. Barber Seaman

Eriberto Pascual Seaman

Jose Alzamora

Leader Painter Frederick D. Wade

Seaman

Cardinal E. Husband

Painter Arthur A. Nedrick Laborer CIVIL AFFAIRS BUREAU

George Carrington

Swimming Pool Operator

Joseph S. Corrigan Customs Inspector Cleveland D. Ennis Teacher (Senior High L.A. Schools) (See p. 13)

12 November 1968
CANAL HISTORY

50 yearJ c4ao

IN OCTOBER 1918, an executive order requiring the licensing of all motor vehicle operators in the Canal Zone was issued by President

Woodrow Wilson. The Canal Zone

Executive Secretary was empowered

to appoint examiners at Balboa and

Cristobal who would be responsible

for examining applicants for licenses, and make recommendations

to the Executive Secretary as to the

fitness of each applicant to operate motor vehicles over the streets and

roads of the Canal Zone. This order repealed earlier Isthmian Canal

Commission ordinances regarding

the same subject, which had been in

effect up to that time. 25 yieaM c4ao

J ASCHA HEIFETZ, world-renowned

violinist, arrived on the Isthmus

to present a series of concerts throughout the Canal Zone. Heifetz

had completed a concert tour in Pan- ama 2 vears previouslv, but returned

as part of a program to present name

entertainment to the military personnel stationed in the Canal Zone.

Lieutenant General George H.

Brett, Commanding General, Caribbean Defense Command, announced

November 2 a relaxation of censorship bans for military personnel in the area. Servicemen would now be

allowed to inform the folks back

home of their exact location in the Caribbean, which was expected to improve morale, as danger of attack on the Canal waned.

The Atlantic Side War Bond Committee, headed bv Arnold Bruckner

and coordinated bv Ernest C. Cotton, received the congratulations of Canal Zone Governor Glen E. Edgerton for having tallied $1,535,503

in war bond sales from October 1942

through October 1943. This was the

first year that the War Bond Committee had been in operation on the

Atlantic side.

U.S. -citizen workers of the Canal

Zone were instructed to register for

- "- -•_

j

HOW IT WAS THEN-This is 1914 excavation for Balboa Terminals, Drydock No. 1.

the Selective Service in the fall of 1943. Canal Zone Executive Secretary Frank H. Wang was named

Chief Registrar for this initial selective service registration.

10 yearJ c4g.o

PAT QUINN, member of a well- known Canal Zone family, was ap- pearing in a Broadway play by Maxwell Anderson, "The Golden Six." A graduate of Balboa High School,

Miss Quinn had been attending a dramatics art college in New York

City when selected for the show.

Theodore Roosevelt Centennial

Week celebrations were climaxed by

a pageant, "The Ordeal of Mr.

Stevens, or Teddv Roosevelt Visits the Isthmus," in which many res- idents of Panama and the Canal Zone

took part. The event was held at the

Tivoli Hotel. Among the many guests

attending from the United States, besides former construction day

workers, were the Honorable Maurice

H. Thatcher, sole surviving member

of the Isthmian Canal Commission,

and Mrs. Richard Derby, one of President Roosevelt's three surviving

children.

One year trfao

THE DIVISION of Preventive Medicine was completing preparations

for putting its new Mobile X-Ray

Unit into operation. The unit was to be used to examine emplovees and

dependents at townsites and jobsites

throughout the Canal Zone for possible lung disease, on a rotating

basis. In this manner, the greatest

number of persons would be reached

for early detection of health problems and employees and their families would be benefited by its inception.

ANNIVERSARIES

(Continued from p. 12)

HEALTH BUREAU

John Lewis

Medical Technician General

Cecil B. Walker

Nursing Assistant (Medicine and

Surgery') William C. Allen Medical Aid (Ambulances)

Wellington G. Myles

Leader Cook

Harold J. Morrison Leader Hospital Food Service Worker

Marcos A. Munoz

Leader Laborer (Heavy Pest Control)

The Panama Canal Review 13
Highlands of Chiriqui . .

.

Where Nature Unfolds

You almost have the Alps next door to you, if you live in Panama. Above is Curt Hemmerling's chalet in Bambito, a "suburb" of Cerro Punta, where the elevation

is high enough to make you appreciate blankets at night.

Below is one of the rivers that lull you to sleep if you stay at the Dos Rios in Boquete. The bridge in this photo cuts across the rear of the hotel, and beyond it, upriver

slightly, guests can see where two rivers channel into one.

YOU GET INTO your automobile at 8 o'clock in the morning, when the

tropical sun and humidity already

permeate the air. You drive through

the city amid its early-morning bustle and noises-horns, vendors' babble

—and all the varying sounds of a

metropolis awake for another day of

activity. Gears grind, tires squeal,

and traffic cops' tempers rise faster than the sun. You start and stop, veer and wind, and eventually find yourself on the outskirts of town, heaving

a sigh of relief. The city is wonderful,

but—intense as always.

Then, as you start to travel west- ward on the winding Inter-American

Highway, the city retreats behind the

car and the countryside unfolds in what you imagine will be an endless

series of rolling hills, studded with

the sensuous vegetation of the tropics. After all, this is Panama-land

of huge, tropical game fish, of intense sunlight filtered through thick hazes

of humidity and swaying palmeras

that might have inspired the cumbia.

so closely do they mimic its rhythms.

This is the tropics; the very rain here

is a musical instrument.

But, if you travel far enough, and

not very far at that, you will find yourself in a few hours climbingclimbing farther and faster than you

realize, because the hills are gentlv

curved and rise subtly—ascending to an elevation of 3,800 feet. As you

get about midway to that elevation,

you notice the countryside undergo

a change—the trees grow straighter, truckloads of vegetable-produce and

other cool-climate crops pass b\ you, and the tightness in your ears suddenly tells you Panama is more

than the tropics.

Then, one final turn around the midsection of a mountain, and the gentle proof is unfolded to you like the flower it is— Boquete—a little town which marks the memory for- ever. It opens up at the curve like a petal and though it were a deadly

November 1968
:*«&-

fe'.rw-«.

I**

«¥in^^ ^ftSfc^

Boquete-a valley of bouquets, where there are more flowers than blades of grass, where the pace of life is determined by

nature's slow and easy tide of seasons.

jungle flower you would risk its embrace. But no worry of that. Rather,

Boquete has more subtle weapons.

You spend a few days there in one

of its small hotels or pensiones, sleeping to the natural narcotic of its musical streams (they are every- where), eating as though you had

a new stomach ( and eating well and

inexpensivelv), and wondering—what

happened to the tropics?

But—there is more. Boquete is just nature's elegant introduction. Be- vond it, on the other side and farther up the mountain, an encore awaits

you. Ascending a road which now

is no longer quite gentle and where

the word "town" loses meaning, you

enter a mountain forest almost primeval in its beaut\', cut through by

a single main road and studded with

a house here and there—or a Swiss

chalet—and other unlikely sights appear, such as miniature cattle drives, an occasional vegetable farm, and a "town" that resembles the one-street communitv of the Old American

West.

This is Cerro Punta, an extinct vol- canic crater and lakebed which rises and falls across a 10-mile stretch and

is a cool 6,300 feet above sea level. Slightlv down the mountain from the

rolling surface of Cerro Punta whose

rich, black topsoil is 20-feet deep in some places, are the "communities"

( usually of one or two houses, cabins

or chalets) of Bambito, El Volcan

and the llanos. The combination of these areas, onlv a short drive from

Boquete or David, is like the inner- most depths of a primitive forest. Few tourists are in evidence. The local people are friendly, vig- orous, and the pioneers among them

literallv brought on their backs to the

area much of whatever is there. They

could switch to mules only after a road was built. The road opened the way for new people and enabled the beginning of the tiny community of Cerro Punta itself, but the original

majesty of the land is virtually un- changed from what it has been for centuries—an untouched region of sheer-faced mountains and valleys

that spin round and round in a dizzy

series of sights. The streams of Bo- quete lull, those around Cerro Punta

roar; thev are near-rivers whose rapids crash upon gigantic rocks and

fling a challenge at the fishermen

who would dare cross. Not manv do.

Thus, in a mere 7 hours, over a brief 300 miles, a non-tropical wil- derness is reached—from palmeras to Panama pines, from tropical oity to cool high-country—in less than a day.

The mean temperature is now 65, instead of 85, and in the evening two

blankets feel good as the thermometer sinks to a chilling 50°. The

place is still Panama, but the cumbia's sensual beat now seems far off in the tropical distance; at Cerro Punta

one imagines Strauss in the wind,

and the thunder of the streams could

have been written by Beethoven. But mountains moving men is rarely as impressive as the reverse. At Boquete-Cerro Punta, men have

challenged a few. Around Boquete,

coffee grows straight up the side of a mountain—or at least at so sharp an

incline your neck hurts as you tilt your head back trying to see the peak

of the planted rows. Flowers, all kinds of flowers, appear in strangely

wonderful places—on the faces of concave hills, between rocks in streams, and along the sidewalks of the most humble residence. In Cerro

Punta, the dirt roads endlessly twist the imagination in what it must have

(See p. 16)

The Panama Canal Review 15
L

hCf^a"

it "EKi

,

on foot

lege"ds-true ones-Glenn Lewis of Cerro Punta, of surveying for Lindbergh, of cutting through the brush .n the 1920s, who came up to die-in 1938. His Oklahoma wife, Virginia, used to be a Peace Corps wXr at BooTte

Chiriqui Highlands

(Continued from p. 15)

been like to cut through this maze

the first time—when they even had

to turn the pack animals back, the bush was so thick. The men who helped uncover this paradise are varied. The first of them

number less than a dozen, and those who followed now represent, per

capita, the broadest cross-section of national origins found in all of Pan- ama. Boquete, for example, has 31

ethnic groups in its population of 13,000, with 50 percent of these first generation. They include Ecuadorian

and Egyptian, Cuban and Canadian,

German and Jew, Eastern and West- em European, American, and of course-Panamanian, besides many

others. Apart from native-born res- idents, most of the other ethnic groups have become Panamanian

citizens.

At sparsely settled Cerro Punta,

there also are Indians. When Glenn

Lewis, Curt Hemmerling and a handful of others came to the area in the

1920's, the only inhabitants were four Indian families. During that decade

and the one following, other newcomers arrived, and the names Shannon, Martinz, and others were added

to the list of patriarchs. They know

the area to the square inch, and their love for it is wedded to a tacit pride

in having overcome it. They are old people, these patriarchs-chronologically. Some of them

even came up to Cerro Punta to die—

30 years ago. They're still working at

it. Such "deaths" may be another 30

years in coming. Glenn Lewis, for example, was told by his doctor in 1938 to retire and enjoy his ". . .6 months to live." He had stomach

trouble, arthritis, and was smoking

three packs of cigarettes a day. I

asked him when he had his last physical:

"That was my last, when I was

told to retire," he said. "So I went

up to the States and traveled 50,000

miles looking for a good place to cave in. I had been to Cerro Punta

in 1924. After all that travel in the

States, I couldn't find a prettier place.

So I came back, built a home, and

'died' here." He's still dying-at 75-smoking

the same three packs of cigarettes a day, keeping his own hydroelectric

power plant in running order (which

he brought in on foot in 1938), run- ning his own ham radio, and helping "newcomers" John and Henryetta

Winklosky "feel set" (they started

in Cerro Punta in 1947 and are mere

youngsters in their sixties). Lewis' reputation as a good neigh- bor is outweighed only by his well- found fame in many fields—sur16 November 1968
veyor, photographer-newsman, and

pilot. In 1924, he came to the Isth- mus as a surveyor for the U.S. Army.

His job was to fly World War I "bombers" (bi-wing paper kites) over Panama and decide where landing

fields should be built for Charles Lindbergh's newly planned Central American airmail service. Lewis

found he couldn't see enough by air,

so he took to the ground. He cut his way on foot from David to Cerro Punta ( 50 miles )

, thence to Chiriqui

Lagoon, and finally, to the Costa

Rican Border (70 miles in all). He

had pack animals with him at first, but turned them back when they

delayed his progress. The trip took him 32 days. He got his surveys.

In the course of this task, he flew with and photographed Lucky Lindy

many times, and the latter's first Central American airmail service was

based on Lewis' surveys. Besides his work there, Lewis was intrigued by

Cerro Punta, so in 1932 he bought

100 acres and built a fishing camp.

At the time, he owned Servicio Lewis

in Panama City, and along with doing photographic publicity for the Army and Navy, he was movie-news

representative in Panama for MGM,

Fox, and Pathe of New York and

Paris. He additionally made the first educational films of the Panama

Canal for Eastman-Kodak, and took many reptile pictures for Raymond

Ditmar's famous books on herpetol- ogy. He also has filmed alligator

hunts, jaguar forays, and at the Canal in 1923, took the only photograph ever shot of combined components of the U.S. Atlantic and Pacific naval fleets, which were in Pan- ama Bay at the time for maneuvers.

This was with the old-style photographic equipment, but Lewis had

his enormous picture printed and

sold in 3 weeks, using 15,000 feet of paper. His net: $7,000.

Besides these accomplishments

when he was "young," Lewis laid down a few more after he "retired"

in 1938—one of them building a mile- long airfield at Cerro Punta in 1955. His other activities, besides traveling, are endless. He hunts, fishes (his 25V2-inch, 5Y4-pound trout is still the record in the area), and drives back and forth to Panama frequently.

His first wife died a few years ago, and he is now married to the former

Virginia Lewis, whom he met when

John and Henryetta Winklosky, both recent retirees from Panama Canal, indicate by their expression how they like Cerro Punta.

she was doing Peace Corps work in Boquete. She's from Oklahoma, and

they recently celebrated their second

wedding anniversary. Trout fishing in Cerro Punta is without par; they can still be taken two on a line. (Again, the Lewis

touch; he flew the first trout eggs into Cerro Punta on ice from the States.) Hunting includes bandtail pigeons

and tapir, and for those willing to go farther back in the bush—puma,

ocelot, jaguar, and deer. As to farming, crops in Cerro Punta are nontropical; all temperate zone crops which do not require frost will thrive

there, and they are cash crops.

Besides pioneers Lewis, Matt Shannon and the late Louis Martinz

(whose horse-breeding ranch is still a landmark in the area), there is Curt Hemmerling, who lives in Bambito, one of the "suburbs" of Cerro Punta which is a whole 3 miles down the road—consisting of one house, his.

It's a Swiss chalet replete with the many-peaked roof, the little windows

and the cozy rooms of its Alpine

counterparts. Even cool weather

goes with it; only the snow is missing.

Archeologist Hemmerling came to the mountains in 1924 to do diggings. He is a former Assistant Director of Panama's Museo Nacional,

and most of the early archeology of Panama was done by him. Thousands

of his finds are on display at Panama's museum and at institutions in other countries. He also raises coffee -14,000 trees— and is a great teller

of tales of Cerro Punta. Over a late- evening glass of wine in front of the

fireplace, he will fuel your imagination with his memory.

There are other old people at Cerro Punta, and they're proud of the word. Their youthful spirit scorns

the euphemism, senior citizen. They

may not have found the Fountain of Youth, but mountains have proved more healing than the waters of the

old legend. Spirit abounds in Cerro

Punta. The faces, the voices, the

friendliness, reflect the natural unspoiled splendor of the rivers and

streams, the lush valleys, and the overpowering mountains whose

(See p. 26)

The Panama Canal Review 17
Jfelplng vhem li)alky

c4na aQive vhroug,h

M,oaem yfiealcal Practice

IT TOOK 11 major operations to enable Jorge G. to walk. After a bed-ridden infancy, he now has the opportunity to grow up into a useful citizen. And little Moyra M., who

was born with the bladder outside

the abdomen, now has a chance to grow up, able to achieve motherhood. The dark menace of hopelessness in their lives has given way to the brightness of promise.

Jorge and Moyra are among the many beneficiaries of the Panama

Canal Health Bureau's teaching pro- gram which is an integral part of the

training curriculum for intern and

resident physicians—in effect at Gorgas and Coco Solo Hospitals for many decades now. Generally un- known to the public, the program has

resulted in case after case of out- standing medical assistance to men, women, and children in Panama.

When 10-year-old Jorge came to Gorgas Hospital in mid- 1966, he was doomed to the life of a helpless cripple. The rheumatoid arthritis he had

developed at one and one-half vears

of age severely contracted and stiff- ened his knees, hips, and feet. He

could not bend his right arm and he

had contractures of the wrists and

fingers. No doctor had seen him for 7 years, and by the time he was

brought to the Orthopedic Service of Gorgas he was completely bedridden.

Intermittently, for nearly 2 vears, Jorge underwent operations on his

feet, knees, hips, right elbow, and

right leg— 11 operations in all. When

he was discharged not too long ago, he was walking—with braces, yes, but able to move by himself. Today,

he walks five blocks every morning

to school. While he probablv will re- quire some type of mechanical aid the rest of his life, he is walking

alone—a vast improvement over the

Walking again—even with crutches—is a milestone for this lad. The Health

Bureau's Teaching-Case Program put

him on his feet again.

helpless condition in which he was

admitted to Gorgas.

Little Moyra's case came to the

attention of doctors the minute she was born. She came into the world

in a Panama City hospital, doomed

to die before reaching adolescence,

for she was bom with her urinary

bladder outside the abdomen, with- out urethra and vagina, her pelvis

with no frontal bones. She had to grow a few months before medical

science could do anything for her. She was admitted to Gorgas Hospital when she was 8 months old. Though her case was primarily of

interest to the Urologv Service, lit- tle Moyra also was seen bv pediatricians and orthopedists. The former

evaluated her congenital defects and

the latter performed reconstructive surgery to correct the lack of fusion

of her pelvic bones. Two weeks after her admission,

urologists began the process of plastic reconstruction of her defective or missing organs. After a five and onehalf hour operation, her reconstruct- ed bladder was in its natural position

under the frontal bones of the pelvis. After 1 1 weeks in a body cast, Moyra

went back to the operating room for the final reconstructive surgery. After

three major operations, little Movra

has gone home a normal "dry" baby

-the spectre of death before adoles- cence banished.

These two cases, among the most

dramatic of recent "teaching cases"

in Gorgas Hospital, illustrate the philosophy behind the Health Bureau's program. One of the basic cri- teria for admission of a "teaching

case" is the patient's inability to pay, since the entire treatment is provided absolutely free. Charity?

In a sense, yes. But the program

goes beyond charity-for-charity's- sake. A second criterion is the nonavailability to the patient of treat- ment in Panama. Finally—and this is what sets the program apart from

18 November 1968
mere charitv—the caSe must have

teaching value from the medical

standpoint. This is of exceptional importance, for the normal patient load

in Gorgas and Coco Solo Hospitals

does not always supply all the various

pathological and clinical conditions

required for the residency training program. Through this program,

physicians—both staff and in train- ing—apply diagnostic and therapeutic

techniques which thev will use later

in their care of other patients.

Thus, Jorge was accepted because

his rheumatoid arthritis is rare among

children, and Moyra because her congenital abnormality of the urinary

bladder occurs about once in every 30,000 deliveries and was of the most severe type.

Community Benefit

Implicit in the program is the dis- tinct benefit to the communities to which the hospitals provide care, because the opportunity to minister

to unusual and severe cases and participate in such an outstanding training program stimulates physicians to

join local medical staffs. This in- evitably leads to higher professional standards and a better grade of medical practice. A stateside physician,

for example, has little opportunity

nowadays to treat a case of tuberculosis of the spine. At this writing, several such cases in varying degrees of

severity, have been treated in the Orthopedic Service in Gorgas, all re- quiring removal of diseased body

tissue at the vertebrae and spinal

fusions. Three of the cases, incidentally, were Guaymi Indian girls. Treatment of such cases, even if in- frequently found in future practice,

provides the involved physicians

with such detailed knowledge of

spinal anatomy and makes them so

familiar with these particular tech- niques of surgery that they can

apply them with great benefit to other conditions affecting the same

part of the anatomy. Thus, the direct benefit to the three Guaymi Indian

girls will later prove of value to

AND SHE'LL BE NORMAL—This tiny lass was born with major congenital birth

defects, which the Teaching-Case Program corrected. Without such treatment, she

either would not have lived or would have survived with tremendous handicaps.

other patients with diverse conditions

of the spine requiring surgery and

fusion. As is to be expected, there is a much more active training program

at Gorgas than at Coco Colo Hospital. But the requirements are the same for teaching-cases. The pro- gram has made Gorgas a teaching

hospital the equal of any in the United States, and has thus helped

to make available on the Isthmus

medical care comparable to that practiced in the most outstanding

centers in the United States

Valuable Teaching Cases

It is important to understand that a teaching program has been in existence at Gorgas Hospital for at

least 40 years. It started when in- terns were first recruited for service

at Gorgas Hospital and then was

gradually enlarged to include resi- dents in training. The bulk of the teaching cases comes from among

patients—United States and Pana- manian citzens—who are eligible for care and medical facilities in the Canal Zone. It is only the unusual

cases, those which are difficult to diagnose or which present problems

in treatment, that come from Pan- ama. Through the program, these

patients are helped and at the same

time the clinical experience of the physicians in training in enlarged.

Massive Goiter Removed

Mrs. Eduarda R. came to Gorgas

Hospital with a massive goiter, her

thyroid gland enormously distended.

The normal dimensions of the gland

are about two and one-half inches in diameter. The weight of the massive

growth caused her to stoop and she could hardly swallow or breathe. The

case was taken to the Nuclear Medicine Section, but the goiter was far too advanced for treatment with ra- dioactive iodine. It took 6 months of inpatient and outpatient treatment

to bring Mrs. R's health back in balance for surgery. When the goiter was finally removed, it was found to be the largest ever taken out at Gorgas Hospital in the memory of vet- eran physicians, and of a size rarely

(See p. 20)

The Panama Canal Review 19
Helpins Them Walk, Live

(Continued from p. 19)

recorded in medical textbooks. Mrs.

R. has recovered.

Plastic surgery of cleft lips—a congenital defect-is not an easy job,

particularly if the palate also is involved. Under the teaching pro- gram, several cases of this type have

been successfully treated, most of them in San Bias Indian babies. This

condition is only occasionally en- countered in a population the size

of that in the Zone. The opportunity

to see and treat these additional cases

will make physicians in Canal Zone

hospitals more adept in their treat- ment of future patients.

Snake-Bite Victim

Snake-bite incidents are always of

interest to the medical profession.

One such case was that of Rengifo

A., an Indian boy about 12 years old. He was bitten by a fer-de-lance below

the right knee while farming in the Madden Lake area. Neighbors applied a very tight grass tourniquet on

his leg. It took hours to get him to the hospital, and during that period

the tourniquet was not loosened. By

the time he was admitted, gangrene

had set in. Young Rengifo recovered

from the effects of the venom, but

his leg had to be amputated where

the tourniquet had been placed. At

the end of his treatment, which

lasted 170 days, Rengifo walked out

of the hospital with an artificial leg.

Not all of the patients treated under the resident training program

start out as "teaching cases." Eduardo B., 7 years old, the corneas of whose eyes had been badly scarred by an infection, was "adopted" by

the men of a U.S. Army company

who raised funds to send him to Gorgas. The first corneal transplant—

a

surgery not frequent in Gorgas be- cause of the lack of an eye bank

—proved unsuccessful. By that time,

funds raised by the troops had been

exhausted, so Eduardo was taken on

as a "teaching case." He has since had

a corneal transplant of the left eye and a cataract extraction and has improved, but still is under treatment

in the Ophthalmology Service.

Teaching Cases Are Varied

The variety of teaching cases is such that every service of the hospitals has them at one time or

another. When 8-year-old Luis E., from Escobal, Colon Province, was

operated on for the removal of bone

fragments pressing on a nerve, caus- ing facial paralysis, it was only the second time that such surgery was

performed in the Eye, Ear, Nose

and Throat Service of Gorgas. The

boy had suffered a skull fracture several months earlier in a fall on a wharf. The pieces of bone pressing on the facial nerve paralyzed the

right side of his face. He couldn't

close his right eye—not even when

sleeping. It is only in the very re- cent past that surgery of this type,

in this area, has become feasible. Luis, still reporting for observation once every 3 months, has now re- covered 95 percent of his facial

functions.

Born Without Thumbs

Miriam P., now a teenager, was bom without thumbs and without the

radius bone in both arms. As a result she could not grasp objects. Orthopedic surgeons reconstructed the in- dex finger in each hand into a thumb,

which involved moving the digit

from one position to the other. They

also fused the wrist bones. Miriam,

whose treatment has taken about

4 years, now can grasp objects with

her three fingers and thumb in each

hand.

These cases are but a few of the many which show dramatically what

medicine can do for people today,

as well as the benefits for all involved

in the teaching program. A more

complete list of cases of outstanding

medical assistance under the pro- gram in Gorgas Hospital alone would include patients who recov- ered from massive obstructive-dis- tention of both kidneys, intersex problems, clubfoot deformities, fractures, wounds, post-polio complications, skin diseases—and many more.

They Come from Near and Far The teaching case patients come

to the hospitals in diverse ways.

20

Sometimes the hospital's doctors dis- cover them; sometimes they are referred by doctors in Panama who are

familiar with the teaching program

in the Canal Zone, or by missionary

doctors visiting remote areas in

the Republic; sometimes they are brought in by their employers in the Canal Zone.

Participants in the Health Bureau

teaching program are the interns and

resident physicians, under the guid- ance and supervision of boardcertified specialists on the hospital

staffs. Depending on the specialty in which they are training, residents

will spend anywhere from 2 to 4

years at Gorgas. At the end of training, they are board-qualified and

must pass an examination for board

certification, which is official rec- ognition of their rank as specialists.

Far Reaching* Benefits The growth of the teaching case program in the Canal Zone hospitals over the past 10 years bespeaks its

value. The benefits have been far- ranging—for medical staffs, patients,

and communities. It is a program of enormous impact on the health status

of the chronically and severely ill, both in Panama and in the Zone. For the patients from Panama, it means care not normally available

to them for various reasons. To Zone

patients, it means new and improved

techniques which their physicians

would not ordinarily have learned in

their conventional care of patients.

To phvsicians, it means the opportunity to see and treat diseases of a type and severity they would per- haps not see in a lifetime of practice. There is far more than the broadening of their field of interest and practice. Direct benefit to the Canal Zone communities has been

through improvement of the quality

of medical care by providing train- ing opportunities to interns and

residents and stimulation to stafl

phvsicians.

Though conceived primarily for

its scientific value, the program has

happilv developed into a people-topeople project which has won lasting, and nicest of all, healthy friends.

November 1968
DowN

U

T

NDER

LOCK

A LITTLE-KNOWN underground

world exists "down under" that has

nothing to do with Australia or a

resistance movement. Those below

in this case are the men who work

down under the Panama Canal locks, and who walk the labyrinths that form a vital network thousands of

feet long under the locks' surfaces. The operations of the locks fall naturally into three parts—the control houses above ground level, the

operations on the ground that involve

the lock walls, and those down under. The number of men assigned to dutv under locks varies. During an over- haul period, some 950 extra employees may be hired, about 700 bv

the Locks Division and some 250 bv

Maintenance. After the chambers

are drained, these men descend to begin the actual overhaul which

involves maintenance and repairs. But during the normal workweeks

it's a pretty quiet world down under. About 20 maintenance men—painters, oilers, craftsmen and helpers—

usually work at each lock during the

The Panama Canal Review

s

GREASING JOB—Francisco Wason, oiler (kneeling) greases sheave on the rising stem valve roller train chain. Leslie C. Mcintosh, oiler (standing) greases guide rollers on rising stem crosshead.

day. On the night shift, six men who

handle service calls are assigned at each lock. And there mav be an oc- casional boa or opossum down there,

but of course they're not on the duty roster. The lock operator leader, mechanical, and his counterpart, the

lock operator leader, electrical, have

the most responsible positions. Formerly, the leader, mechanical, was

"senior tunnel man" and the tunnel

still is his domain. But whatever the

title, the job entails quite a bit of

exercise, especially leg work.

Usually, the lock operator, mechanical, "goes for a walk" first thing

in the morning. He walks the length

of the tunnel on the first lockage and

checks to see that all machines are operating properlv. Since the lock chamber is 1,050 feet and the tunnels extend another 300 feet at either end of the chamber, it's a good

constitutional. All the locks have

essentially the same dimensions.

On duty at Miraflores Locks is Oliver G. Paterson of Los Rios, lead21

er lock operator, who is the senior

in this position on the Pacific side

of the Isthmus. His U.S. Government

service dates to 1939. At Pedro Miguel, the supervisor

of leader locks operators in maintenance work, Joe Young, has service that dates from 1941. Leader lock operator Greg Gramlich's service also goes back to that year. A close sec- ond in length of service is Ray F. Hesch, also a leader lock operator,

whose service dates to 1942. The dean of leader lock operator

machinists at Gatun Locks is Daniel

A. Lawson, whose service dates

to 1936. Their underground dutv stations are compact. There's a desk, clipboards that hold inspection schedules

for the start of each shift, and handtools for small repairs, filing, or small assembly operations.

The leader lock operator, electrical, has duties similar to those of his colleague, except that in his case the work involves the intricate electrical (See p. 22)
CENTER WALL TUNNEL, looking north, shows the long, long walk ahead of the tunnel workers. Lubricating boxes

are mounted on either side. Just beyond the lubricating boxes are the guards for the miter gate bullwheels. They Work Down, Down Under

(Continued from p. 21)

equipment in the tunnels. At some

points, the machines and electrical equipment are half a mile away from

the control house. Each tunnel is divided horizontally

into three stories—the lower for drainage, the middle for wiring and

the top as a passageway with bays

into which the machinery to operate

the locks is set. There are huge cast

steel bullwheels more than 19 feet

across, weighing 35,000 pounds and

mounted horizontally on a large center pin. These open and close the

lock gates through a connecting arm.

In the next bay is the tiny 40-horse- power motor which is able to operate the wheels, and in tum the gates, through sharp gear reductions. A 40-horsepower motor also is used to operate the miter gate and

the rising stem valves.

The original machinery, installed 54 years ago by Panama Canal construction workers, is still in use today. For over half a centurv the original

rising stem valves have been in operation, the wheels have been turning, the chain has been extended across the locks chambers and then re- cessed, and the little motors have

been doing the work. Only the motors have undergone a slight change.

Once a 25-horsepower motor was

used, as a predecessor to the 40-horsepower motor. Along the passageways down

under, there are the transformer rooms at intervals, and in the center —walls are float wells to determine

the depth of the water in each lock chamber for the gages in the control house. Machinery for the chain fender, a

safety device to prevent a ship from

striking the miter gates, requires

periodic lubrication and is in a pit

approximately 70 feet deep. Stairs go down most of the way, with the

last 20 feet traveled down a ladder. The chain stretches across the lock chamber and is worked by a hydraulicallv operated system of cylinders controlled remotely from the tower. A lighted red indicator on the wall shows when the chain is up. When

the chain is down, the indicator is recessed in the wall. There are slots in the side wall and bottom of the

lock chamber, and when a vessel is transiting, the chain falls into its grooves in the lock floor and out of the way. The intricacy of the operation is spelled out in a diagram

sketch on one side of the tunnel wall. Most of the work underground is at a level of about 8 feet, although

the rising stem lubricators weeklv

22 November 1968
go down into a pit about 20 feet below the tunnel surface. Another

weeklv lubrication operation is the

care for the miter gate movingmachinerv. The lubrication crew, a

leader, and five or six men provide

lubrication for all the machinery,

check to see that everything is as it should be, and call attention to am thing that might be wrong.

Periodic inspections are made of

electricity and water lines and the sump pumps in the lower tunnel. A hole, about 3 feet by 4 feet, gives access to the shaft for the lower

under-tunnel, below the floor of the

locks chambers. At first glance, it looks like the black hole of Calcutta. Over half a century ago, the men

assigned to do the inspections in that under-tunnel area made the descent

bv a ladder set flush against one wall. Over the years, an improvement to the operation was made, and the

inspectors rode down to the undertunnel area in a "bosun's chair," a board rigged on a line, kind of a

close relative to a child's swing.

The newest development, which

is just being installed, consists of a wire cage or man-hoist, in which a man stands as he is lowered down.

The underground world of the Panama Canal also has an emergency

pump and sprinkler system in case

of fire, primarily for protection of the miter gates in event of a floating fire, and for protection of control house

personnel.

A little-known role of the underground locks area is that it is also a shelter area. Civil defense emergency

rations and drinking water are stored

in each tunnel and are checked

periodically.

All the locks machinery is activa- ted from the control tower. Before

any maintenance service is per- formed, the control tower is advised

as to exactly what part of the machinery is to be out of operation.

The accident rate in the underground area is extremely low, due

to implementation of good safety

regulations. After the control tower

has been notified what machinery is to be out of operation and worked on, the machinery in question is tagged

at two locations. Each employee

responsible has a lock with his own

key to the equipment on which he

is working. Leaders have four locks mastered to their own personal keys,

and a tag with the workman's name

is placed on the machine and the equipment locked to prevent its being turned on while work is underway.

Although all the locks are essentially the same, the men who work

at Miraflores and Gatun Locks also have bridge maintenance responsibilities. At Miraflores, the swing

bridge is maintained so that it can be

operated in an emergency. The

bridge itself is operated from the bridge control house, but there is intercommunication with the locks. At Gatun, maintenance work is done

on the vehicular bridge, which is operated from the control house.

Life down under has its moments

of excitement, too, wholly apart

from the locks operation and yet

linked to it. The White Rabbit of

Alice's Wonderland may not be

found in the tunnels, but once in a while the men come across snakes,

mostly boas, especially at the beginning of the rainy season. The snakes

are washed down-river during the heavy rains, and when the lock gates are open, they slither up on the gate arms and then inside. While most of the snakes found in the lock tunnels

are boas, a number of fer-de-lance have made locks' tunnel visits, too. Opossums have found their way

inside the lock tunnels, and a few

times sloths have crawled up over

the fence and into the tunnel, where

they curled up like raggedy balls

until they were found and evicted. You see, there is plenty of variety

"down under."

GO!—James E. Farrell begins the descent to the cross-under area beneath the locks' floors. Center, flush to the wall, is the ladder the first locks' workers used. The bosun's chair, in which Farrell sits, is due to be replaced in the near future by a wire cage or man hoist, in which a man stands as he is lowered.

The Panama Canal Review 23
PRINCIPAL COMMODITIES SHIPPED THROUGH THE CANAL

(All cargo figures in long tons)

Pacific to Atlantic

Commodity

First quarter, fiscal yearOres, various —

Iron and steel, plates, sheets, and coils— Boards and planks

Sugar

Fishmeal

Metals, various Iron and steel manufactures, misc Bananas Pulpwood

Food in refrigeration

(excluding bananas)

Plywood and veneers Canned food products Potash Petroleum and products

Coffee

All others

1969

Total

1,231,354

820,697

806,677

741,682

414,055

329,865

315,711

296,801

282,618

274,150

208,441

179,491

158,284

150,126

148,325

2,469,938

1968

8,828,215

1,037,172

156,297

150,127

832,038

360,526

354,308

580,635

319,838

238,167

300,276

121,409

210,355

115,546

618,861

105,582

2,990,402

5-Yr. Avg. 1961-65

8,491,539

282,514

N.A. N.A.

693,908

N.A.

274,741 N.A. 274,753

130,271

196,404 N.A.

253,387

130,271

490,599

109,537

4,507,046

7,343,431

Atlantic to Pacific

Commodity

First quarter, fiscal year—

1969

Petroleum and products Coal and coke Phosphates Corn

Metal, scrap Sorghum

Wheat

Soybeans

Ores, various Metal, iron Sugar

Paper and paper products _ Chemicals, unclassified Rice

Cotton, raw

All others TotaL

4,199,180

3,544,096

1,225,062

736,428

704,733

556,250

506,225

486,988

397,495

373,884

262,432

227,536

161,048

149,353

145,004

2,730,438

1968

16,406,152

3,594,632

2,504,584

931,022

607,078

1,260,135

365,211

296,723

554,388

431,630

969,036

297,063

167,788

252,706

85,376

97,441

2,493,467

5-Yr. Avg. 1961-65

14,908,280

2,848,139

1,521,383

497,992

299,197

812,008

N.A.

179,668

279,937

70,671

48,694

367,986

108,532

161,332

28,632

79,961

2,122,496

9,426,628

TRAFFIC MOVEMENT OVER MAIN TRADE ROUTES

The following table shows the number of transits of large, commercia
CRUISE

SEASON

THE 1968-1969 cruise season, start- ing this month, will bring the Holland-American luxury liner, SS

Statendam, to the Isthmus on five "festival cruises." The vessel transit- ed the Panama Canal last month

on what was to have been the first of two Caribbean Festival cruises, one this year and the other in 1969. The cruises proved so popular, however, that additional Caribbean Festival cruises are scheduled for November 14, January 9, February 8, and March 11. The SS Statendam, whose local agent is Pacific-Ford, S.A. on these

cruises, sails from Los Angeles and

anchors in seven Caribbean ports as well as several Mexican and South

American harbors. The Festival

cruises will bring the SS Statendam

on 10 trips through PanCanal. Each

cruise is for 25 days and covers 9,300 miles. The Southern Cross will transit the Canal November 6 and again December 18, according to Pacific-Ford. The Akaroa will transit December 4, and Christmas Eve will see the Northern Star in Balboa for a transit on Christmas Day. A New Year's Eve

arrival will be the Stella Oceanis,

which will dock in Cristobal and sail New Year's Day.

C. B. Fenton & Co., Inc. had its 1968-1969 cruise vessel schedule

inaugurated last month with the ar- rivals of the Bergensfjord and the Kungsholm at Canal ports. On November 3, Panama's Inde- pendence Day, the Sagafjord arrived

in Cristobal for immediate transit. The vessel berthed in Balboa from

mid-afternoon until 1 a.m. the fol- lowing day.

The Federico C, also represented

by Fenton, will make a series of calls

at Cristobal starting December 30. Federico C will sail from Port Everglades, Fla., cruise through the Caribbean and then dock at Cristobal

for about 10 hours. The ship will come back to Cristobal for half-day

visits January 13 and 27, February

(See p. 27)

CANAL COMMERCIAL TRAFFIC BY NATIONALITY OF VESSELS
Refreshing Chiriqui Highlands

(Continued from p. 1 7) 11,000-foot peaks rise no higher than

the spirit of the people who call them

home. Along with those already mentioned, there are the Leonard Butzes, both in their 80's, and the brothers Gutierrez—one of whom came to die at Cerro Punta of tuberculosis 20 years ago. They farm broad

stretches of land—themselves. And

there is the "old" barber who walks

up 3 miles each week to cut John

Winklosky's hair—on a road with 40

percent grades. Winklosky and his wife Henryetta are recent retirees from PanCanal. There are youngsters in the area now—40-year-old Tommy Carruth,

for example, who provided the initial impetus for this story. When I told him over coffee one afternoon we

were looking for story ideas, he said: "You know, there's kind of a pretty

place up in the Interior you might

Piftatas

(Continued from p. 8)

into a clown, an animal face or any

number of figures.

An empty gallon ice cream container or a hatbox is an excellent base

for a pifiata. Dress it up with crepe paper and add features to make an

animal face, a bird, a flower or a fruit. The paper bag and cardboard pifia- tas are safer than the pottery pifiata

and will not hurt anyone when

broken. Make a pifiata by any method.

Hang it up, being sure the rope is strung tihrough a hook on a pulley so

it can be raised up and down and

moved about. This way, the master

of ceremonies can move the pifiata out of the path of the whooshing

broomstick.

Now watch the fun as the blind- folded child or adult flails at the empty air. He gets three tries and

the game goes on until a guest gives the pifiata a good whack and breaks

it, spilling out the goodies.

The party is launched!

be interested in. Everybody goes up

there to die—and lives for 30 years."

Carruth has mountain fever, too. A

building contractor in Panama City,

he gets up to his Cerro Punta retreat as often as possible.

The ease of enjoying BoqueteCerro Punta advantages for merely

a weekend—and a weekend only

whets the appetite—may tax your

credibility. You can stay in Boquete,

after a short 6-hour drive from

Panama City, for less than $20 a night for two, with private bath

and including all meals. The food is well-prepared, and varied, and the streams that lull you to sleep near

the hotels Panamonte, Dos Rios and

the quaint Pension Marilos cost nothing extra. Most rates remain un- changed from one time of the year

to the other. The entire year is the

season. If you stay at the Marilos,

you will meet its engaging host, Gregory Chuljak, Austrian-turnedYugoslav-tumed Panamanian, a man

whose 65 years cross several countries, careers, and turns of fortune.

You'll feel fortunate to have known

him.As you go over to the other side

of the mountain-range toward Cerro

Punta, you can stop at the Dos Rios'

sister hotel, of the same name in El Volcan. Farther up toward Cerro Punta itself, there is Curt Hemmerling's chalet, which he has

supplemented with comfortable lodging and excellent cooking—at out- rageously low rates. The drive from Panama City itself

is smooth, fast, and only the varied

landscape will delay you as you stop

for pictures. Otherwise, the trip is rapid. Beyond Bio Hato, about 75

miles out from Panama City on the Inter-American Highway, the road is new all the way to David and feels like it. From David, it is only a short drive to either Boquete or Cerro

Punta. But by no means accept this verbal imitation as even a partial mirror of such a journey. It is yours as

it was mine, for the easy taking. It will take you away—to the cool, primitive forests you dream of, to the meadows, to the brooks and rivers, and to the mountains—the mountains

that make you suddenly stand still and stare up, way up high. As mother nature re-unfolds herself to you, a masculine touch is evident in her stroke; perhaps there

is another—older—Patriarch in Cerro

Punta. Theodore Barrington

MONTHLY COMMERCIAL TRAFFIC AND TOLLS

Vessels of 300 tons net or over—(Fiscal years)
(Continued

o

from

HIPPING p. 25)

10 and 24, March 10 and 24, and

April 7 and 21. The Bergensfjord, due in Cris- tobal in late January, will transit the Panama Canal and dock in Balboa. The Oceanic, on Fenton's winter

cruise schedule, will visit Cristobal January 25 and again February 12.

Steady Customer

LLOYD TRIESTINO, one of Italy's most" important shipping lines, continues as a Panama Canal customer

after the first two transits by its lux- ury ships earlier this year. The first to transit was the Guglielmo Marconi, a 27,900-ton passenger liner which arrived in Balboa February

23, transiting northbound. The Galileo Galilei, a sister ship, went through

the Canal October 29, and will transit again, northbound, on March 16

and August 6, 1969. The Guglielmo Marconi will be in Canal waters again November 11, 1969, and will transit northbound. Because of the closing of the Suez

Canal, these ships are now circling the world. Both are 701.59 feet long,

with a beam of 93.80 feet. Each can accommodate 1,629 first- and touristclass passengers. With a speed of 24

knots, they are among the fastest

ships transiting the Canal. Both were

put in service in 1963.

Holland-American Line announced

that the company will invest 4 million

dollars this fall in refurbishing the

line's three big vessels—SS Rotter- dam, SS Nieuw Amsterdam, and SS

Statendam, all of which are Panama

Canal customers.

PANAMA CANAL TRAFFIC

STATISTICS FOR FIRST QUARTER

FISCAL YEAR 1969

TRANSITS (Oceangoing Vessels) 1969 1968

Commercial 3,346 3,317

U.S. Government 381 350

Free 19 27

Total 3,746 3,694

TOLLS'

Commercial __ $2 1 ,932,274 $20,531 ,957

U.S. Govern- ment 2,426,073 2,284,978

Total $24,358,347 $22,816,935

CARGO00

Commercial— 25,236,502 23,403,346

U.S. Govern- ment 2,312,423 2,331,434 Free 38,041 138,268

Total 27,586,966 25,873,048

° Includes tolls on all vessels, oceangoing and small. 00 Cargo figures are in long tons on all vessels, oceangoing and small.

s. I96B
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