Evening star., 1939-07-30
BY JESSIE FAINT EVANS.

Spanish Main, but the Midas touch
of oil is making the tiny Caribbean
Islands of Curacao and Aruba focal
points for the ocean traffic lines
Of the world. Fueling at their docks
are the oil tanker fleets Of the mari
time nations. Discharging cargoes
OF machinery and construction ma
terials, as well as numerous con-
structlon engineers and their fami-
lies, are various passenger ships.
New commercial frontiers that are
part of the world development
OF tomorrow are being pushed for
ward upon what were once merely
geographical pin points in the
Caribbean Sea.
A bit of transplanted Holland in
tropical midst is Willemstad, the
capital and chief port of Curacao,
largest and most important Of the
Netherlands West Indies.
Once the stronghold of pirates
fought over successfully by the
Spanish, the French, the Dutch and
the English, center of the Dutch
slave trade under one-legged Peter
Stuyvesant, later Governor of New
York. Curacao seemed a doubtful
and inconsequential pawn in COL
onial holdings even for the thrifty
Dutch, after the beginning Of the
18th century.
Pipe Line to World.
But, with the sudden and vast
boom in the oil fields of Maracibo,
Venezuela, only an overnight ships
run from Curacao, Willemstad sud-
denly found itself one of the busiest
of all the ports of the West Indies,
and on the regular route of the
steamship lines leading to every
part of the universe.
Its coral reef formations, which
long ago gave it the name of the
barren rock" in old sea -faring
chronicles, rear themselves like the
humps of great dromedaries, as your
ship slips along the wharves which
line both sides of the entrance to
the harbor. Two 300-year -old Dutch
forts flank this approach, their one
time grimness submerged by the
maritime activity of the present
and the tremendous oil containers
which are its fountain head.
Yet, Willemstad, with the peaks,
gables and curving caves of it's vari-
colored houses, and the canal-like
appearance of the channels which
trisect its business section, appears
to be as Dutch as the Zuyder Zee
itself. Against this similitude to
Holland is the bright tropical sun
shine, the cooling breeze of trade
winds, and the picturesque natives
who still delight in carrying their
bundles to the market place on the
top of their heads with an easy grace
that is almost rythmical in its stride
Channel Bisects Town.
Through the very center of the
town runs what might we'll pass for
a deep, wide canal. 1t is the chan
mel entrance to the harbor. After
the pontoon bridge, which spans the
canal or channel separtes in the
middle in response to our ships
whistle, you suddenly find yourself
sailing up one of Willemstad's mair
streets to a huge land-locked basin
behind the city, where the vessels
anchor to be refueled or to load oil
This bridge is the unique inven-
ton of fellow American. Consular
Representative Smith, as is Willem-
stad's electric lighting and water
distributing system. Without a nat
ural stream or lake Curacao's ma
tives long had to depend on rains
for their water supply.
One of the bridges pontoons car
ries an electric winch At the ap-
proach of vessel this races merrily
away, swinging the bridge around
with it until it is parallel with the
shore. To expedite delays, little
ferry boats transport those who are
in a great hurry from one side to
another for small fee. The ma
| jority, however. seemed to take out
their disappointment in "fussing" at
the failure of the bridge, named
Queen Emma, to coincide with their
| individual schedules.
Originally there was bridge toll
of 2 cents for those who wore shoes
and of l cent for the sandal clad
while the barefooted crossed free.
Consequently it was not unusual to
see the thrifty walking the bridge
barefoot, carrying their shoes on
their heads or Slung across their
shoulders.
Clocks in Dispute.
When we came to cross this
bridge in an American car, driven
by an ebony colored native, who
said he spoke English, but who gave
the most amazing answers to our
questions, we almost grazed tenders
with a young Dutch girl, also driv-
ing an American car. She smiled
pleasantly at our pantomine efforts
to communicate with her. Finally
we discovered, with her assistance,
that the two sets of clocks on the
Queen Emma weren't really telling
different time, they only seemed to
be. One was set at the expected
schedule for the passage of certain
large liners. The other was Willem-
stad time, which is one-half hour
behind the daylight saving time by
which our ship was running.
The streets in the business section
Of Willemstad are so narrow that
it is miracle automobiles ever
manage to wedge in between them.
Shaking hands across them from an
upstairs window would be no feat
at all. When two cars wish to pass
and obviously can't, the driver who
seems to use his horn the loudest
and gesticulates the most vocifer-
ously usually succeeds in making
the other back out, if there is any
place for him to do so. Meanwhile
the passing populace stops for a
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