Tag Archives: hashing down the islands

Trash Run – #811

11 Jul


HASH MASTER Mumtaz Amarali 625-3617 x29436 mumtaz98@hotmail.com
HASH ASSISTANT Pradeep Subrian 678-2372 psubrian@bluewaterstt.com
COMMUNICATIONS MINISTER Zameer Ali 678-9172 u4ria532@hotmail.com
FINANCE MINISTER Lorin Paton 622-5806 (O)
HARELINE Salma Khan 753-8843 salmakhan_10@hotmail.com
Arthur Seebalack
Tiza Matura
Martin Griffith
Ashe Holder
Janine Winston 680-2373
Colin Sorias
Betty Agostini
Diane Henderson
Website Address: http://poshhh.org
811 June 23, 2012 Wahid, Numbnuts, Colin, Marlon and Pamela Chacachacare Island Harry

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Hello, I am called Deepak Gupti Shiva BDsingh, but you can call me Harry, and I am most pleasured to be making your acquaintance.  I am from the Punjabi, and I am here present in your islands to meet my bethroded.  We have not been meeting before and I am a little nervous, especially after the ongoings of the previously held weekend.  You see I was invited to attend what is called a “Hash”.  It seemed to me to be akin to the ritualistic Punja festival of Lingus Pussani where Goddess Rati is honoured in the most delicious of manners.

I am actually most embarrassed to be me in the most embarrassment of ways as there is not much of the events of the day that recollects in my mind.  The goings are very fresh but the comings have departed in the most grievous of manners.

I must admit that on that morning the excitement on me was overcome!  We crossed the seas on a fantastic ocean vessel where the most beautiful of sceneries befell my eyes.  It was here during the days earliest of times that I was offered beverage of the alcoholic kind.  I most vehemently refused as I am engaging in my fasting in preparation for my matrimonials and on this I am most serious in my thinking.  As you would come to see my seriousness on this matter did need a revision on my views even before the dockings of the boat.

My day’s enjoyment was pleasing as the majestic cruise liner made for its destination.  I was made to understand that we were heading for an island.  But it seems that I am easily to be misled as during the early part of the trip I though it was called Union Island.  I was brought about to be so thinking as all the older, wiser, greyer, Naanis and Daadis were so speaking in greatness on this Union Island.  And I look with the greatest of respectfulness on these Naanis and Daadis.  In the Punja we call them the most honoured “olefarti”.

The younger, more energetic of the gathering (In the Punja we respectfully refer to them as the “smaartmaani”) in their speaking is what brought about the confusion within my being.  As during the listening of them I was brought to believe that we were sailing to Panama.

I am not too sure in my head but I believe that it was around this point that I had a sip of a proffered drink to ease the puzzlement  in my brain.  As they say, I am believing that this was the starting to the end.

After a short delightful cruise we were eventually to be docking at what turned out to be neither Union Island nor Panama, but Chacachacare Island.  A former leper colony with an interesting history.  By this time I had been convinced to sip quite a few more of an amber liquid and I was brought to believe that the fresh sea air was mightily invigorating to me.

At the docking of the cruise liner, my slight stumble off the boat did not enlighten me as to the impending condition of myself.  But by this time I was seeking out the amber liquid with an increasing gusto.

The masses of peoples gathered on a magnificent beach that highlighted a beautiful sheltered bay.  Here I got my first chance to survey the entirement of the crowd.  There was an interesting mix of “olefarti” and “smaartmaani”.  And dare I be so embolded to say that my senses detected some frictation between them ………… ???

As if on cue, somewhere around this time in point, a miniscule sea vessel did arrived in the bay full of a gay assortment of “olefarti”.  They appeared in great spirits and as I said in a previous way, most happy and extremely gay.

I then watched as a most unlikely collection of “hairs” in curry coloured jerseys gave instructions. I was not very encouraged as they seemed a most incompetent lot.  The warm buzz within myself was now having me to my own full cup of beer.  And this I was drinking when the group did take to be running.  I followed anxiously.  I am not to be understanding why we ran in confusion in the same spot for the first 10 minutes but maybe that is how this hash thing works. I am not knowing.

We eventually traversed the coastline and went uphill into some aging but interesting structures.  A church, a dormitory, some outhouses. We are continuing uphill and here I am noticing a most exquisite oriental …. My MaiMai would not be pleased at the thinking that is going through my head!

We begin to go down and are arriving on a trail.  It is here that it is again confusing to me and it seems to everyone else as well.  They run down the trail and ran back up.  They run down the trail and ran back up.  They run down the trail and back up ……. What is this “forkeenshait!” everyone keeps shouting out?  I believe it is a jovial greeting between friends given the exuberating and voluminous manner in which it was exalted.

I am to be believing that a “hair” showed the way out  …. And “up” it went.  A strenuous and at times difficult and exciting climbing and then a descending.  We are then coming back onto the starting trail which we did in a reversing manner to bring us back to the beach ……..

…….. and the beer! The sturdy Mr. Andre was fast becoming my friend of the best way of things.  And I say this so that you may be forgiving of me as the recollecting becomes more difficult here on out.

There was swimming.  There was beer.  There were boobs!  Sorry MaiMai! What the western culture has done to spandex and other synthetical materials is to be held in awe.  There were 4 particular ones or should I say two pair that were most entrancing to mine eyes.

What I in my unexperienced experience saw in the run as deficiencies, was more than made up for in the gloriousness of the after run puja.  Did I be mentioning that there were boobs!

I was covered in flour and chugged a beer and felt as gay as the “olefarti” on the canoe.

It’s all blurried in mind but there was dancing …… boy was there dancing!! This is of the course on the trip back home.  I was made to be introduced to the “wining”, to the “grining” …… the gloriousness of it all!

It was a most unfortunate moment in time when the ending did appear, as I have never been having an experience like this before.  It is also most unfortunate and I am embarrassing to admit but having finally met my bethroded, she did not meet my now raised expectations of mamarary excellence.  I have since asked back for my goats and my cows but do not be having high hopes for their return.

I intend to be back for the coming but only if these “hairs” are not the “hairs” who are “hairing”.  Maybe if they be organizing a cruise ………..

So in closing I leave you with this ….. “Forkeenshait!”


PS:  I am hoping that the “olefarti” and the “smaartmaani” can one day be friends.

“Always aim at complete harmony of thought and word and deed. Always aim at purifying your thoughts and everything will be well. “

“An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it.”

Mahatma Gandhi

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From the Office of the Iron Lady (Be the best you can be today)

For all those men who say, Why buy a cow when you can get the milk for free. Here’s an update for you: Nowadays, 80% of women are against marriage, WHY? Because women realize it’s not worth buying an entire pig just to get a little sausage.

From one island to another island…….Caribbean Integration……..We have certainly been hash ambassadors, we have always had a relationship with our Barbados hashers, we were part of the Inter-Caribbean Hash in Grenada, had our hash overseas in Panama and recently returned from Guyana where we met both the Guyana and Suriname Hashers. We have certainly left our footprints on many shores and our Down the Islands trip was no exception. A good run, with a dip in the ocean and a party on the boat, a hashers paradise.

A little history on the island of Chacachacare :

 It was originally named El Caracol (the Snail) by Christopher Columbus because of its shape. At various times in its history Chacachacare has served as a cotton plantation, a whaling station and a leper colony.

“Chacachacare, at the west of the first Boca, is horseshoe shaped and very hilly. The hills slope towards the inside of the horseshoe. At the junction of the arms of the horseshoe, the land is flat and marshy. At times of spring tides or in rough weather the sea often passes over the isthmus. Boats can be hauled from calm water on the east to La Tinta, so called on account of the colour of the sand, which is black, the water being clear, but the sand beneath it makes it look black. In1791, there were many people living on this island, cultivating ground provisions and sugar apples (Annona squamosa). During the time of slavery large quantities of cotton were grown, which after emancipation was abandoned. Later, when the price of cotton was very high, the industry was re-established by Messrs. Gerold and Urich. There were also three or four whaling stations carried on by Messrs. Gerold and Urich, Tardieu and F. Urich and Partners. Looking across the Boca Grande there is a view of the Venezuelan mountains eight miles [12.9 km] away. On a clear day they appear to be much closer. On the land side of the bay there is a fringe of deadly Manchineel tree (Hippomane mancinella)]. Tall cacti andaloes grow on the cliffs on the southern shore. There is a pebbly beach—Bande de Sud—inside which there is a lagoon from what in the early days the islanders attempted to extract salt. About 1887 a stone pier and a large house for the use of a sanatorium was erected on the island by S. Chittendon. At present there is only a lighthouse on the west and theLeper Asylum on the island.”[1]

The famous Venezuelan revolutionary, Santiago Mariño, who later joined forces with Simón Bolivar and was instrumental in the liberation of Venezuela from Spanish rule, used Chacachacare as a base for his successful 1813 invasion of Venezuela with a tiny band of 45 “Patriots”.[2]

Today Chacachacare remains uninhabited except for staff maintaining a Lighthouse on the island. It is also regularly used for camping and visits by recreational boats. Many Trinidadians go to this island, as well as Monos and Huevos for vacations and day trips. This is popularly referred to as “going down the islands”.

The island was spotted by Christopher Columbus on his third New World voyage on 12 August 1498, and his little fleet spent the night anchored in Monkey Harbour.[3] He named the island ‘Port of Cats’ because many wildcats lived on the island. The island later became a nuns quarters and a leper colony. In 1942, 1,000 U.S. Marines were stationed on Chacachacare and built barracks on the island. The island was abandoned by the 1980s when the nuns left their quarters and when the last leper that was on the island died in 1984. The colony had been abandoned since.

In 1999, Donald Trump visited Chacachacare during the Miss Universe contest and thought of having a casino and hotel built on the island; however the idea has not been pursued.

Welcome to our virgins, it was nice to have you

Happy Birthday: Alastair Paton

Poofter: Ronald Mc Donald for polluting the ocean by vomiting.

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Directions to the next run #813

Date: Jul 21, 2012
Time: 3:30pm
Hares: Mountain Goats
Run Site: Santa Cruz

Drive to Maraval, then onto to Santa Cruz passing Under Cover Plant Shop on the right and then turning left onto to Saddle Grove, look for HHH signs.