Stories & Recollections of Anaco
Contributions from Visitors to the Site
Last update: December 20, 2008

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- Snake Stories -
(contributed by Lynn Huber - December 19, 2008)
My daughter was an elementary student at Escuela Anaco when a large boa constrictor was found basking in a tree on the playground. It was decided to remove it. The grounds keeper who was sent to do the job was both afraid of snakes, and ignorant of their behavior. He timidly attempted to grab the snake, and it flew out of the tree, wrapping itself around his arm. The poor man was staggering around, screaming bloody murder! As my then young daughter explained it, the children were very concerned - about the snake! They were chasing the terrified man around, urging him to be careful, and make sure the poor snake wasn't hurt by the wild ride he was taking on the frightened man's arm.
 
The man was quickly rescued, with no real harm done, and the snake taken to a classroom, where it was caged. It escaped though, and we were taking bets on where the now people-friendly boa might show up again. The favorite guess was at a welcome meeting for newcomers.
 
I was reminded then of when I'd first moved to Santa Barbara, the SinVenez camp near Punta de Mata. I was reading the camp rules, and was suprised to find we weren't allowed to keep snakes in our yards. Not being able to imagine then why anyone would want to do that, I asked the reason for the rule. I was told, a few years earlier, a nun was walking to the door of a house, intending to ask for a donation, when the family's pet boa dropped out of a tree, perhaps just wanting to wecome a visitor. It scared her so badly, she hiked up her long robes, bolted down the walkway, and over the fence, somewhat exposing herself in the process. It caused such a furor, that the company had to prove they'd taken steps to make sure no nuns visiting the camp would ever again be mortified by unexpected encounters with people's pets.
 
Another snake story told at Santa Barbara was of an American woman who had a Volkswagen, and loved to go out and about collecting orchids, which she then raised in her yard. Seeing a huge snake on an unpaved road, she ran back and forth over it, thinking if she killed it, she could have it skinned, and made into snakeskin shoes and a handbag. She went home, and later told her hisband to look in the trunk of her Volkswagen, and see what she' found. Expecting more orchids, he opened the trunk. The now revived, and very perturbed boa, flew out, and soon had him wrapped up in a death grip. He was rescued with help from his and a neighbor's gardeners, and the unharmed, but very relieved, snake, sent on it's way. The man then headed for the house, claiming this was the final straw, and he was going to divorce his wife, or at least take her car keys away.
 
I was later, while living in Anaco, to hear advice given on a television program about what to do if a boa had the whole of your arm in it's mouth. You were not to try and pull your arm free. The snake's teeth, angling backwards, would cut your arm if you did. You were to stand quietly, up to your shoulder in a boa constrictor, waiting camly for it realize it couldn't swallow you, at which point, it would back off on it's own. Needless to say, that was advice I hoped I never had reason to remember. More advice I hoped never to need to remember, was that if a boa was wrapped completely around you, you should  get to open ground and stay there! It was said a boa constrictor can't exert enough force to crush you unless it's tale is anchored to something.
 
Another snake story involves Johnny, whose last name I've forgotten, but who was head of Mobil in Anaco at the time. He and his wife, and friends of theirs, were out in his boat. They went down a channel into a small lake of sorts. Seeing what he thought was a log, and his friend thought was a snake, he shot it to prove it was only a log. It was a mistake! It was a huge snake, and it begin thrashing violently in a small area. It was large enough to have damaged the boat, and Johnny had to scramble hard to get out of there. Comparing it's length to that of the boat, he said it was over twenty feet long. 

Kindly submitted by Lynn Huber (December 19, 2008).  Thanks Lynn!  Please share more.


- The Priest and His Saddle -
(added March 21, 2004)
We had a lot of fun with the chief of police of Anaco.  He, Assuncion, used to bring harpists over to the house etc.  One day, he asked us to go to another pueblo where they were having a rodeo of sorts.  Actually, they were flipping steers over, by their tails.  [A "coleada".]
 
While we were there, the priest from our "Christmas Pueblo" [where Andy used to go and play Santa Claus and hand out gifts] came up to us & during the course of conversation, told us he needed money for a saddle.  Being the generous guy that Andy was, he gave the priest money to get a saddle.
 
Sometime later, I was driving down the carretera negra and saw the priest walking along the side of the road.  I picked him up and asked him why he was walking - and where was his horse.  His answer was,"I have not got one yet!" 

Kindly submitted by Marilyn Anderson (January 1, 2004), reminiscing about the good times she and her late husband Andy had in Venezuela.  Thanks Marilyn!  Please share more.

- Dennis And The Mule -
(added July 28th, 2001)
Sadly we lost Harold Bankston in ‘91,but I will always have the memories of me and him riding motorcycles on top of the mountains between Anaco and Puerto La Cruz.  One of the most memorable rides was to a little mountain town called "Mundo Nuevo".  This town had a reputation for not liking outsiders and I remember telling Harold "I don’t think these people really like us".  His reply was "Don't worry, they don't like any body from out of town".  That was also the trip where he talked me into getting on a mule to cross the river so we could get a soda pop in town.  Now this was not your little flatland Burro.  This was a full sized mountain mule.  He was at least 6 feet tall and the beast had more teeth than an alligator.  He would also show them to you on a regular basis.  I was only about 12 years old at the time and I thought I was pretty brave.  I would ride motorcycles up and down the mountains all day long,but I didn’t want anything to do with this animal.  I even told Harold I really didn’t need a soda pop that bad.  He finally talked me into getting on the beast and that was even without my crash helmet on.  Harold decided that if I did fall off halfway across the river and I had a 20 pound crash helmet on I would probably sink head first in the river.  That would be a little hard to explain to my mother.  I managed to survive the trip across and back but I still remember that day in 1969 like it was yesterday.

Kindly submitted by Dennis Laging (July 17, 2001), reminiscing about his old friend Harold Bankston.  Thanks Dennis!


 
- On the road to Puerto La Cruz -
On the road to Puerto La Cruz.... 
That's how most of us who grew up in San Tome referred to Anaco.

To us, Anaco appeared very unexciting.... It was just like any other road-hugging town.... You know, like San Mateo but without the cachapas and queso de mano and without the distinction of disappearing seven times like mirage, as the car sped along the undulating carretera negra.... San Mateo at least had some character.....

Yep, Anaco was hardly a blip on our rador screen which was focused on much more important things.... like the first site of La Borracha Island! Why in the world would you stop in Anaco instead of waiting for the Gran Parada in Port..... Well, maybe on the way back to get a little relief.... And how in the world did Anaco rate a Cada, anyways ?? What were the Rockefellers thinking ??

So, it was with immense surprise that I learned that Anaco was something besides MGO's Campo Rojo pipeline station.....

As luck would have it, my father retired from MGO in 1960 and went to work for a service company in Anaco. But when I heard the news, while still a highschool sophomore in the states, I groaned, "Anaco?? Good Grief, Why Anaco ??

After getting off the Avensa plane in Anaco that summer, all my misgivings seemed justified. What a crappy looking place.... And that landing.... I think the wheels actually scraped some of those tin roofs !! And the plane almost shot the runway.... Or so it seemed.

When we get to our house, I'm informed that we don't have an MGO telephone line.... Now how was I going to call my friends in San Tome..... Not good.....

But wait.... a silver lining.... Anaco was actually a bunch of little camps surrounding a town.... and the big kahuna was Socony Vacuum camp way across town.... The folks were forced to give me the keys to the Bellaire.... Happy Days!.... and nights.... Every chance I got, I would sneak off to San Tome.... that wonderful camp on a hill....

Well my brother and I finally decide to go the "red horse" club to play pool.... While there we run into a large group of teenagers decorating for the July 4/5th celebrations.... From that moment on, all I remember is a blur of non-stop parties, movies, Motel Bowling, Country Club, Club Cien, the pool, and more parties. It seems that because the kids lived in many separate camps, their fun time was much more intense when they got together... And you actually had to pick-up your dates and drive them to wherever.... just like the states....

Who would have thought that so much fun was to be had on the other side of the parallel pipelines.... The Anaco kids were cool.... especially the girls.... It wasn't long before my friends from San Tome started visiting and "integration" was finally achieved..... You know, I can't remember going to the beach for the rest of the summer or even the next summer.....

The roaring sixties began for me in a truly unlikely place!

Contributed by John Servello, June 20, 2000 - Thanks John!


 
- Grady's Restaurant -
Technically it was called 'Club El Molino'; everyone knew it as Grady's.  It was located at kilometer 97 on the Puerto La Cruz/Anaco/San Tome main road.  Situated on the East side of the road, it was the only place I remember that had yellow florescent lights; therefore, one never knew whether the butter he was serving was yellow or white. 

It served, more or less, as Big Al Finch's office when he was in the area.  (Al lived in San Roque, the Phillips camp located beyond San Joaquin.) Richard [Simons] based one of his plays at Grady's - it was called 'Lucha Libre' and told the tale of Pete Fields. 

The turn-off to the Socony camp was located a kilometer 98.  The turn-off to the A-Z camp was 98.1. 

The name of the club came from the fact he used an Aeromotor Windmill (Broken Arrow, OK.) for lifting water.   The land belonged to his wife whose name I believe was Blanca.  Some of the initial financial backers were  Paul Koester and Allen Pike. 

'Chepas' was located near Chucho's  garage.  Chucho's, as you will recall, was located just beyond the west end of the Anaco International Airport.

Contributed by - Tom Simons & Gene Pettit

P.S. - Tom - "International" Airport?   Who are you kidding?
 


 
- UFO Sighting? -
Does anyone know about a UFO sighting reported by an "Avensa" pilot in 1953 while he was on approach to the Anaco "International" Airport?  I'm not kidding! 

Follow this link to take a look at an obscure reference to this report - it's the first listing on the page.  Click your "Back" button to come back to this page.

In case the link is dead, here's the reference... "1953--Anaco, Venezuela. Avensa Airlines pilot reported round gray object paced plane. [X]"

John

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Page Created: April 20, 2000
Last Updated: Last Updated December 20, 2008

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