November 20th, 1961

November 20th, 1961 [Transcript]

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PLEASE READ THIS LAST!!

I love you very, ver much!!!

Dan

P.S. when do you’re mother and sister come home? This is Mexico University Stationary, I am out of my own!

Nov 20, 1961

Since Sunday morning everything has been going—really great. First of all, a phone patch to Rosie. Then a drive toward Costa Rica, and stoping at a beautiful Pacific beach for the night. The water was fine! We were parked near a town. B[illegible] the regular crowd, in the morning, school was dismissed to see us.

As I mentioned Robin is a problem. We appealed to the U.S. Embassy, and the Costa Rica Consul, but nothing could be done to help us. Then Bob sent a telegram to The State Dept. and a reply came from Rask(?), sorry —  no further help than the U.S. Embassy.

We couldn’t give up Robin. But everybody said, and had examples to prove it, “you can’t get a dog into Costa Rica.”

We thought of hiding her under the floor boards, but, we felt if she was discovered, we’d lose her for ever(?) and make a bad name for our trip. So that was out.

What we finally decided to do was put her in the back on a trunk (?), with the top half way back hanging down concealing her. Of course,

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...any inspection would reveal her. So we weren't really hiding her.

(one fellow was holding her)

Now all we had to do was keep all personnel off the duck...When we drove up we made a show of  changing the flags  from Nicaragua to Costa Rica. Every time someone came over we'd stand by the side and talk to him.

Then came the crucial moment, the inspector said he was going aboard to put the seal on! But we couldn't let him, so we whipped out the movie camera and had him pose passing up the seal to Bob. Then we all signed and he said, "OK, you may go!" It was music to our ears."

Costa Rica is a beautiful country. It seems the best-off economically, and nicest in most every way of the countries visited so far. The climate is cool—just right—due to the altitude. Did you know that year-round down here, they have about 12 hours of day light. 5:30 AM - 5:30 PM. Another thing we’re just following the end of the rainy season. It’s a nice time of year. I wanted to mail my last letter in Managua, so you’d get it at home for sure, but the post-office was closed. I’ll send this one and the last to the [illegible] and hope!

February 5th, 1962

Jungle Cove Letter [Transcript]

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Follow the numbers, please. They’re a little mixed up. 

Feb. 4, 1962

Dear Rosie,

Well we’re safely back to the Levin’s home. Yesterday a LC.M (landing  craft-men) picked up the duck and us and returned us to Coco Solo. 

I don’t know how much information you’ve received so let me start at the beginning.

Against the advice and a promise, if we waited, that we might get a free ship passage, we left on our own for Colombia. We were to find out later that the promise never came  true. One day previous to our start we took the duck out to the ocean for a test run near Colon. This was said to be the roughest part of the trip. In our actual trip we avoided this part. After the test we said, we were glad that our s wouldn’t be quite that rough. If it was, we just couldn’t make it. As it turned out we had even worse seas to deal

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with.

So after days of putting it off, Capt. Archibald was ready Sat. morning. It was 10:00 AM when his 2 tanks (30,000 gallons each—empty) which he was towing were tied and everything was ready. Colin Ried climbed on the 60 ft. escort boat and they were off. We were to meet them on a beach 10 miles to the south—the farther pont we could drive. Also the water wasn’t as rough there.

We have two two-way radios (range about 2 miles) of which Colin had one. As the “Ondina” came into sight, we called Colin, he said “Come out and meet us.” So we did.

For the first few hours everything went O.K., then the rudder cable broke. So instead of steering from the front, one fellow has to [illegible] back hatch and steer by hand, another directs him, and one fellow remains in the drivers seat to work the gas pedal. This operation slows us up [sic.]….we have difficulty staying in a straight line. Otherwise

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able to stay yp with the Ondina, now we fall behind. A few times our motor was flooded by water (waves) as it washed over teh duck. Tom would dry out the motor (conden–[illegible]) and we’d start again. By night-fall all we could see was the boats light far in the distance. About 9:30 we were flooded again. This time we were drifting toward a coral reef. We called the boat. They had reached Isla Grande, our camping spot for the night. They unhooked the tanks and started to return, but we got started by ourselves. We arrived at Isla Grande and were swarmed by cayucos (Indian boats like a canoe)—just curious. George left his post at the rudder; it jammed. Left without power we drifted toward a reef, so the natives told us. We tried to get a line (rope) to the boat but too late. Luckily we hit the coral reef with our front wheels. Finally we freed

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the rudder and backed off unharmed.We found a beach and managed to get on it. It was near midnight when we got to bed. 

Before I go on a couple of additions and corrections. It wasn’t being flooded that stopped, it was the timing gear slipping. At Colon we were supposed to see the Panamian Customs before leaving. But, because of fear of much red-tape we slipped away without saying a word. The red-tape would be that we aren’t registered as a boat. 

Next morning we arose at 6. Tom worked on the timing gear, and I on teh cable. Then we gassed up and were on our way. The water was rougher today. It was this day our engine was occasionally flooded. It got worse as the day passed. At 10:45 the rudder cable broke. From the first few minutes until landing that night Walt + Fraser were sea-sick and of no help. Fraser did attempt but it’s hard when your [sic.] sick. Bob was sick too but helped a little all day. At 12:00  I left the wheel just as the sickness hit me. Daring [?] the worst I was laying on the top (a flat top made for the water crossing) trying to throw-up with the waves splashing

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over. One big wave washed our small rubber boat and survival supplies overboard. Robin was tied to it. She braced herself for all her worth. We spang [sic.] to her help and after (one or two) five minutes of struggling we pulled the boat back on board. Robin, during all the time on the water, just lied there looking sick. To give you a view of how we felt, every half hour we made radio contact with the Ondina. While I was the sickest (not meaning sicker than the others) it was a dreaded time everytime that half hour came around. It would mean a little more to do even if it was to say “Everything is O.K.!” Tom, George, and Ed were still well and meaning the three main positions. On the half-hour I would sit-up and call to Bob (up-front)  and say it 2:00 [sic.]. Bob would slowly reach to the pocket to get the radio. Slowly I wold slide toward Bob and he toward me and reach for the radio from his stretched out hand. Trying to hold bback my stomach, I would give the message. Slowly I would return the radio and crawl back to the side to hang my head over. By about 2:30 I was well enough to resume a position. We had other job [sic.] too: pumping water out and transferring gas from one tank to another. With the duck riding 15-20ft

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swells even a small job is difficult. 

We fell behind and lost sight. As night neared some wanted to beach, but we thought it better to move on. Just at dusk we spotted the Ondina at a beach. Quickly we beached for the night. Little did we know that this exact spot, in the Escribano Cove, would be our home for 12 days. Next morning I again fixed the cable—this time I hoped she would hold. Colin + Tom completely sealed the motor from water. So we set out; the ocean was even rougher, but thanks to our improvements we for the first time could make better time than the Odina. We stayed right along side. Then it happened. A loud noise told us something had gone wrong (broken) with our propellor [sic.]. The Ondina tryed [sic.] to tow us forward, which is against the wind + waves. She couldn’t! Too bad, for another two hours would have brought us to the still waters inside the San Blas Islands—a 50 mile stretch of calm water, and an airport which could get us a part, if needed. Also we could use the Johnson’s Motors which was impossible in rough water as each wave flooded them. So our only way was to be towed back to the Cove. We had been out for about three hours before the break-down, (rosie some of the cross outs etc. are because we’re 

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making a tape for N.B.C.—trying to do two things at once.)

It was good to stand on land again.

The salt water spray was worst on the driver, and George + I did the most driving. Soon after stopping I saw the salt and sun had taken it’s toll. I was burned and salt-coated (?), and had one blood-shot eye. My lip is now just recovered and George’s too. 

Here I must mention and give thanks to Capt. Archibald, he was with us all the way. We paid him with 3 barrels of gas.

Bob + Ed got a coconut boat back to Colon to seek help. At first everyone who had said don’t go, said we couldn’t possibly get any help or “Leave the duck there and go home”. Some just laughed.

First a little background. 

The army said, “We won’t rescue(?) you on the voyage, and it’s too dangerous for you.[“] The Embassy who was never really behind us—just tryed [sic.] to look that way—and protecting themselves. 

Bob wouldn’t say, “I give up.” He fought on for two day [sic.]. At first radio T.V. and newspapers wanted our 

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story. But, as we found later from informed sources, the Embassy put a clamp on local publicity. Though they had done nothing wrong, it would have been better for them if our story didn’t get out. 

So after two days of dead-ends, Bob called home. Things started to pop. All the folds were helping, Rockefeller telegraphed Dean Rusk; Senator Keating called ambassador Farland in the Embassy here. Other Senator [sic.] helped too. N.B.C called Farland and said, “The boys are shooting film for us; what’s your side of the controversy.” Many papers contacted us, and our story went A.P + U.P. international. 

The army has an LCM here. When we asked Farland for it he said, “Have you $1,000 to pay.” It was a direct order from Washington that got us the LC.M. It could have taken us to Colombia if it was ordered. But it wasn’t. Farland trys [sic.] to look like our friend, but attempts to stop us. 

Everything on the beach was O.K. We ate native food plus canned food, which was dropped two times. Sunday after about 5 days, George, while cleaning a gun, shot his leg. Not very serious. We got him a boat to San Blas

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a telephone call brought an army helicopter in half an hour. We build a house, and near the end did a lot of reading. During the voyage and while on the beach many of my thoughts were of you, Rosie. 

Now we’re trying to get a free ride, or enough money to pay for one.

I received your letter today! How did you do on your tests? 

Now I must note Bob’s outstanding work in getting us back on our feet, as I just explained. 

Ed went home for College. He wasn’t much of a worker, but has an agreeable personality. I couldn’t say that he’ll be missed. Many times he would read while others worked. It doesn’t help in building spirit. He always said he might return at this point. He couldn’t be considered a quitter for this. 

Forgot to tell you. When being towed one of the tanks ramed [sic.] our Johnson Motors—poor Johnson Motors. One may have a bent shaft, and the casings are hurt. 

The Levin’s have been wonderful to us. We’re staying in there [sic.] home, but that’s only a small part of what they’ve done and are doing for us. Anything we do they help

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and advise in.

Another thing; we’re more determined than ever to go on. We’re really all right, Rosie!

All of us are most thankful for the people back home. Their interest and faith are very dear to us. Thank them for me, if you get the chance, O.K.?

I must cut this letter short.

About the waves. Ondina had a high mast (25 ft maybe) even when within say 100ft, the waves would hide her from our sight. That is when one wave was between us and we were both in [sic.] at a low point. Sometimes as we broke over a wave the front end would be completely out of water, and down we’d come splash dump (?). Many times I thought we’d just keep going down, but El Pato rode the waves wonderfully. As the Capt. said “I don’t know how she stayed up!”

Bob just wrote a poem, here is a copy. The hand written [sic.] one. 

Love Dan

P.S. If I had you with me on that cove it would have been wonderful. The only thing I’m even really worried about is losing the chance to be with you.

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Rosie,

We saved the duck,

I'm glad to say

it had to happen

that way!

The seas were high 

the “duck” was low

Toward land our craft 

did sadly go.

Our girls at home 

though yet a far

Served almost as 

a guiding star,

For strength of arm

and strength of limb

Were bent upon that 

stars soft brim.

The night not clear

the moon not bright

but our guiding star

said we were right

Its hope and love

that we so need

Without which we 

could not succeed.

Bob  Dan
 

Postcard [Undated]

Assassination Attempt [Transcript]

Dear Mom + Dad,

This is the plane we flew home in. Blas Roca, Cuba's number 3 man was on the plane, also. In Bogota some men tryed [sic.] to kill him, but failed. A while later the was [sic.] a call saying that there was a bomb aboard. None was found [sic.]. Our passage was "first-class" which normally costs $676 per person. We felt very lucky to get a ride to the States.

Dan