The Helenians have had a hard time making a living from farming since they first arrived in the 1830s, much like the island’s earlier inhabitants, the Payan Indians. Fishing, turtling, lobstering and conching at a subsistence level were—and still are—an integral part of Helene culture. Each man had his small holding, or “ground,” where he would grow a couple hundred plantain suckers, dozens of holes of cassava and watermelons in season.
Much of this economic activity and these survival methods were commonplace across the Bay Islands. Two exceptions were lobstering and conching, which were developed extensively in St. Helene, mainly due to the island’s proximity to the extensive reefs surrounding Barbarat, Morat and Helene itself.
In the 1950s and ’60s — and long before that — lobsters and conchs were abundant. A short walk along the shallow bar at any given time could provide a family-sized meal. Wealthy people in the thriving city of La Ceiba, a six- to eight-hour sail away, learned of this and opened a window of opportunity for the Helenians by buying all the conch and lobster they could get.
There was one problem — the lobsters had to be kept alive. Catching them was the first task. Scuba diving was not even mainstream in the First World, let alone on a small, Third World island. Rudimentary diving equipment — mask, snorkel and fins — was unheard of, so small, open wooden boxes with glass bottoms were built and inserted into the water, allowing the lobster fishermen to see the antennae, or “whips,” of the lobsters extending from the rocks.
Once the lobster was spotted, a long wooden pole with a wire snare on it was slowly lowered. The lobster was carefully teased out of its hole and snared. This sounds easy, but imagine doing all of this while holding the small wooden dory steady over the rock in question
Lobster was carefully teased out of its hole.
The struggle didn’t end there. To keep the lobster alive, instead of pulling it into the dory, they were placed in onion sacks that allowed water to circulate and were towed alongside the dory. It was not worth making the odyssey to La Ceiba for just a handful of lobsters, so a trip there would represent several days’ worth of lobstering.
Where were the lobsters kept after they were snared and towed alongside the dory, you might ask? They were kept in a pen, or corral, that was built using palmetto logs. The lobsters traveled over to La Ceiba in onion sacks. Imagine all this work, and the lobsters used to fetch 10 cents. In those days, a single dollar could buy quite a bit. The lobster fishermen bought goods with the proceeds. Those included small luxuries like yellow cheese that they could bring to sell back home.
In the 1970s and 1980s, enterprising islanders who had gone to work on shrimp boats in the Gulf of Mexico with U.S. fleets came back with investors. They started seafood packing plants, and the Bay Islands’ shrimping and later lobster-trapping and diving fleets sprang up.
A couple of enterprising Helenians, Norin and Iverson Bodden, followed by Victor James, obtained kerosene-powered freezers and began purchasing lobster tails for export to the U.S. market. That made the process much easier. With demand rising, the lobsters slowly moved deeper to avoid the increasing number of eager divers. Lobsters could no longer be reached with the old wooden pole and snare.
The free diving era began in earnest and general stores in Oak Ridge— such as Gough’s and Lem Ebanks — started carrying masks, snorkels and fins. Those who had relatives working on steamships overseas would have diving equipment brought down. Hook sticks became a popular tool for catching lobster, and free diving became increasingly popular. Besides being a way to make a living, it was also a sport. Helenians developed techniques to expand their lungs before diving, allowing them to go deeper and stay down longer.
Islanders learned ear-clearing techniques to allow the divers to go deeper without having to pause to equalize. At the height of the freediving subculture in the mid-1980s, successful freedivers were capable of diving to depths of 12 to 14 fathoms, with ‘fathom’ being the popular term used by Helenians to gauge depth.
Islanders would dive on Honduran banks or reefs such as Alligator Reef, Coxcomb Reef and the Hobbies, and farther away in Colombian waters. These were magical places, days away from Helene, such as Quita Sueño, Serranilla and Serrana banks, and farther south into Sandinista waters to the Martínez Reefs.
