These coasting vessels are unique in the carrying trade. They have an extraordinary amount of deck space and carry everything from mail to fresh lettuce, and perform the functions of a freight steamer and market gardener. Your beefsteak or mutton of to-morrow stands on the hoof in the hatchway below, gazing up at you with inquiring eyes, and, on the upper deck, barnyard fowls blink reproachfully at you through the slats of their double-decked coops. The roustabout crew are Chilean rotos, who look as though they might be pleased to stick a knife between one’s ribs. There are few tourists in the American sense of the word, and the passengers are mostly German, English or Yankee drummers, or engineers bound for railroads or mines in Central or South America, with occasionally a native army officer or merchant travelling from one port to another.
The harbours all along this coast are open roadsteads and the lack of harbour accommodations was evident at the first stop, San Benito, the southernmost port in Mexico, and only a few miles from the Guatemala boundary. The vessel anchored almost a mile from the shore. Because of a high surf it was necessary to wait a half-day before the harbour official could come out, and nothing can be done until this formality is complied with. At last a lighter, pulled by eight brown oarsmen standing up on a running-board, flying a tattered Mexican flag at the rear and a yellow quarantine flag at the fore, approached. San Benito boasts a lighthouse consisting of a light sustained on two high poles, a signal station similar to a band-stand in appearance, and a warehouse. A donkey-engine is employed to pull the boat through the heavy surf by means of a cable. After unloading a mixed cargo and taking on three thousand bags of coffee destined for Hamburg, all of which required three days, the ship steamed to Ocos, the first port in Guatemala. The massive iron pier at this place was destroyed by the last earthquake in 1902, and it required a day to unload the cargo there and take on a few hundred bags of coffee, and then we started for Champerico.
Guatemala is a corruption of an Indian word meaning “a land covered with trees.” And so it seemed, for the whole shore was a dense, impenetrable forest of tropical growth, whose topmost points are the plumes of waving palms, clear to the background of mountains, from which arise many volcanic peaks, making a beautiful and impressive sight. We were aroused in the morning by the snorting and puffing of a little tug which now enlivens the harbor of Champerico and jerks the lighters around with a great show of hustle. Because of the shallow water, it is necessary to anchor out some distance from the shore, and the cargo, as well as passengers, is carried back and forth in these boats. After such a wait as the dignity of the occasion demands, the _commandante_ came out rich in gold embroidered blue coat and yellow-striped red trousers. The captain escorted him into the cabin where a few samples of bottled goods were inspected. A couple of hours later the _commandante_ came out smiling, even if a little less steady on his feet, and we were permitted to land. Landing at this port is, in itself, quite an undertaking, for the passenger is seated in a chair which is whisked over the side of the boat by a steam crane and dropped into a waiting lighter, together with a medley of boxes, barrels, trunks, personal luggage, and various other kinds of impedimenta. The lighter was quickly drawn to the great, lofty pier by the spiteful little tug with which it was connected by a long hawser. When near the pier the hawser was dropped, but the distance was well calculated and the lighter calmly floated to the proper place, and we were lifted up to the pier in another chair by a similar operation. The process is probably less dangerous than it looks, but the passenger breathes freer when the operation is over with and he is safely landed in this land of political disturbances and make-believe money. It cost me seven dollars to land, but when they exchanged six dollars for one Mexican peso, it was not so expensive, for the Mexican eagle on a silver dollar was only worth half as much as the proud bird of Uncle Samuel in the same place.