The Pantanal; a major ecological shift

In July of 1989, I arrived into the interior of the Pantanal, by truck, boat and by horse back. I'd been invited for a personal stay by a good Brazilian friend, whose generational family owned a vast Brazilian ranch, and one supposedly, that still existed from "a hundred years past".

For nearly a century, "Fazenda Porangaba" had remained a totally isolated cattle ranch, and through those many years, held on to a singular 19th century way of life. Nearly the size of the Florida Everglades, this ranch land named "Porangaba", was smack dab in the middle of the Pantanal, in the state of Mato Grosso do Sul, which encompassed that far-away, remote southwestern border of Brazil.  July is their winter month, their dry month - a time when I spent three weeks there on a seemingly never ending landscape - first, as their invited guest, and second, as that rare outsider.

Then about ten years ago, I had heard rumors that Fazenda Porangaba had been sold.  And sold off - as a family owned and operated, sustainable land - to a large corporate agri-business with the great potential for future development.

The ranch's "Pantaneiros" (local cowpokes) - with their herd dog, on their cattle drive while crossing the dry seasonal wetlands of the Pantanal.

Our third day out, the "pantaneiros" rounded-up cattle into herding pens at Campo Eunice. One of the ranch's many outlying cattle holding areas.

Joao, a "pantaneiro" (cowhand) at Campo Eunice.

'Trail camps' throughout the Pantanal were set up for the ranch's long seasonal cattle drives.

A typical family's living quarters for the ranch's "pantaneiros".  Most cowhands and their families live many days from any town, without electricity or running water - and call home these tiny "ranchos" deep in the Pantanal.

  Joao's two daughters raised in their family's two room "rancho".

A cow's slaughter for the ranch-hands daily sustenance and a treat of fresh, warm blood for their domesticated pigs. (agency dupe)

 

 

Then, two days ago, I came upon this timely article from the New York Times's, digital edition.

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/12/23/world/americas/brazil-pantanal-wetlands-michel-temer.html?hpw&rref=world&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&module=well-region&region=bottom-well&WT.nav=bottom-well

 

Another disheartening, follow-up article from the New York Times (October 13th, 2020)

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/10/13/climate/pantanal-brazil-fires.html?action=click&module=Well&pgtype=Homepage&section=Climate%20and%20Environment 

My day wearing 'Bears Ears'

It was in the summer of 2006, when I stopped for a smoke, looked at the map and listened hard.   Where I would later learn in the surrounding stillness, of sacred sites and ancient pictographs - the over-all significance of Bears Ears.

Today, hard to fathom that our country's president has just rolled back nearly two million acres of public lands (for private use) of the surrounding, ancestral red rock canyons, at Bears Ears National Monument.

On Monday, the Navajo, Hopi, Zuni, the Ute and the "Great Broads for Wilderness" - all filed suit in Federal Court in the hope of protecting these ancient lands from potential drilling and/or future mining.

My first ever visit - but to the Native Americans protesting this recent outcome, "It's a historical trauma our people have been through, over and over".

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2017/12/08/opinion/bears-ears-monument.html?action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=opinion-c-col-right-region&region=opinion-c-col-right-region&WT.nav=opinion-c-col-right-region


On that solo journey in southeastern Utah.

past & present

Been going downtown a lot lately and came upon a few things of special interest - past & present.


Sarasota's Municipal Auditorium (1938). Built during our country's great WPA national renewal program. Went to a few High School prom dances here - and there, even attended an early Miss Florida Pageant.  Special architecture.

Poster of local architect Tim Siebert during a week's celebration of his architectural career.  Tim as a young lad holding a carved sailboat hull - from another of his life's passion, sailing.

And this unexpected excitement - this character abruptly grabbing one of those hard-to-find parking spots.

the Dermatologist

the initial exam chair ....

important stuff ....

the preliminary nitty-gritty ....

Bradenton, on a dark and rainy night

Wilson and I drove up to Council's Pool Hall, across the street from Bradenton's historic courthouse, to shoot on a large 9 foot billards table, and to eat a few of their fine greasy burgers, always served-up double-wrapped in thick paper napkins.  Council's hasn't changed much in 50 years.

Hung my damp over-shirt up to dry - and on the first "rack" had the que ball in a difficult position.

At closing time we left, and crossed back over the street - and came upon an elderly gentleman sound asleep.  Obviously he had turned in for the night, and with his few meager belongings, he laid stretched out, dry and comfortable, under the courthouse's recently restored handsome gazebo.

the right hand

fightnin' off the devil

Been on the "patch" now for 4 days, and every hour or so, still having those bad thoughts.

Irma?

"IRMA" - (her name - she sounded like an old forgotten relative).

As an approaching category 5, Hurricane Irma's projected impact for Sarasota was for late Sunday night, or possibly, the early wee hours of Monday morning.

By 4:00 pm Sunday, Knuckles and I became alarmed when our back saltwater lagoon was nearly sucked dry. The heavily approaching easterly winds had blown the water right out of the Bay. So we both decided to "bug-out" for higher ground, to my niece's house on the upper mainland. Didn't want to witness the potential of the reverse, the incoming tidal surge on the back side of the storm. The 'weather-casters' were forecasting a "surge", something approaching 6 to 8 feet above normal high tide.


After Hurricane Andrew's total devastation in south Florida in August of 1992, where whole neighborhoods were flattened - where I was sent on assignment for a week to photograph for different magazines - the hurricane's overwhelming "aftermath" in Homestead and in Florida City was hard to fathom. With the over-hyped, 24 hour news cycles of today, I didn't know what to expect in regards to Irma.

Today's Irma - before and after.

Friday morning (before) - breakfast at 7-Eleven.

Friday afternoon (before) - No gasoline, no water - no essentials.  All items bought-out in a panicked rush by the onslaught of the state's increasing new home owners.

Late Friday afternoon (before) - A surprise overnight delivery appeared at my door. Sent by my daughter-in-law, Michele.

 


Late Monday morning - Returning home to find our two front gates covered with debris - where Knuckles and I tried to find the easiest path to the front door.  But both, happily excited after realizing that the supposed "tidal surge" had not entered the house. Though an hour later, I watched as a poor stressed Knuckles, puked all over the living room floor.

Monday (early evening) - With the power out for the past 24 hours, the food in the fridge was warm and spoiled, so I went out looking for any kinda take-home dinner.

Right off the Key, I noticed a seemingly insignificant and hardly legible sign appearing under the flickering street lights. And further down the block, there was a boarded-up convenience store that was apparently open. There I found something on the shelf that was simple and easy to cook.  Across the road, the power flickered once again - then finally, all shut down in total darkness.

Came home and setup shop with purchased "plumbers candles" - which gave the kitchen the appearance of a possible, surprise party.

Cooking my recently found dinner on the outside grill - Bush's, Barbecue Baked Beans.

Tuesday, 2:00 am -  The storm had passed so quickly, that now an eerie silence prevailed. I opened all the sliding glass doors to let in what remaining breeze there was, and tried with difficulty to read a book using only a burned down 'votive' candle.  And lastly by 3:00 am, to finish off that last sip of the remaining rum & OJ.

There were so many options and possibilities of storm related things to shoot and cover - and I'd been there before - but at home, there was all that chaotic debris surrounding me outside, everywhere. I remembered that long ago Hurricane Andrew like it was yesterday - when that "aftermath" became the real killer.  And today - we just got Lucky, real lucky.

dog days of summer

With the mid-day temperatures now reaching into the mid-90's, a week ago, there appeared in the morning light - a special birth in our back, saltwater lagoon.  A birthing mother had found her quiet place, a refuge and a needed sanctuary.

The Florida native, the West Indian Manatee, breeds only once every two years - and then, producing only a single calf.  The large breeding females will range up to 13 feet in length and weigh-in at around 1,300 lbs.  A new born calf can typically weigh-in around 65 lbs and average from 3 to 4 foot long.

Last week, I noticed a large female floating in an unusual, unexpected birthing position. Within hours, a new pair was quietly joined.  Shortly after, both calmly headed back out of our lagoon, out into the cool, open waters of the nearby bay.  With each following early morning, the pair would reappear, but I suspect this to slowly diminish, when they both adjust to their outside adopted grazing grounds.

The mother playfully rolling over on her back with her front flippers exposed, and her new nursing calf hidden under her large 'fluke' tail.

The shy calf only appears ever so briefly

(A week later) - by 10:00 am, when the shallow waters of the lagoon begin to heat up rapidly, uncomfortably so - it's time for mother and 'pup' to head back-out for her preferred feeding grounds, to the sea grass beds of nearby Roberts Bay.

quirky Southern

Drove out to Arcadia this morning to meet up with an old friend, breakfast and to exchange pleasantries.  Got a little buzzed - and just rode around.


Mary Margaret's Tea & Biscuit Shop
Polk Street

"John Lee & Mourning Jones House"
W. Oak Street

W. Oak Street

W. Oak Street

S. Alabama Street

the Hot Spot - "Lounge & Hook-Up"
S. Alabama Street

retired general store
S. Alabama Street

W. Hickory Street

W. Hickory Street

St. John Missionary Baptist Church
S. Watson Avenue

Hickson Funeral Home
N. Orange Avenue

new vision

Got that damn "astigmatism" thing going on - a deviation from the normal spherical curvature of the retina. After 4 years, today I finally got re-examined for an annoying, on-going "ghosting" and progressive blurriness.  I'll soon be off to get a stronger script and matching frames.

The wall eye chart as it best appeared in the darkened room.

But thankfully, my color perception is near perfect.

bar dogs

Regan, a 6 year old Wire Fox Terrier, from a Canadian CKC championship line, is a daytime regular at one of our local dive bars. The Red Barn has quite a few of these type of 'regulars', and I must admit, I take my own pup there on the occasion.  (true story - It's been many years since I first started wearing my boots daily, long ago, when I was bitten on the ankle by a 'service' dog at a local bar).

Regan's owner Don, recently told me, "I used to hit the bars often, but when I lost my wife, she (Regan) now keeps me home at night.  She's a very determined dog - and will play hard with the big guys. 'She loves to kill fruit rats. Female terriers are the hunters - and I've never seen another rat since the time, I first brought her home.'"

"Now being alone, I pick my car rides and typically she's always very 'determined' - always raring to go".

birthdays come, birthdays go .....

You get to a certain age and party's are just not the same as when we were all so young.  Seems, I'm always the first to arrive - and the first to leave.

I've known Phil close to 50 years.  Big, Happy birthday, Phil.