I got to Richmond International Airport at 4:30 AM for my flight to Nassau, Bahamas. I had a one hour weather delay in Philadelphia, and a four hour layover in Nassau. I passed the time in Nassau chatting with several folks also going to Cuba (a Londoner named Andy, a Bahamian named Andrew, and three anglers from the U.S. —to remain unnamed— who were basically 'sneaking' into the country to fish).

I purchased my visa ($15) from the Havanatur agent in the airport, paid the $15 departure tax, then enjoyed a few Bahamian beers (Kalik). The plane to La Habana, an old YAK (Yaklev 42-D), was almost full. Just like last year, the cabin filled with white smoke from the air conditioners. This time it was quite eerie. The smoke got so thick that I couldn't see more than seven or eight rows in front of or behind me. We flew into an intense storm front near Cuba, and hit a bit of serious turbulence. I could feel the pilot drop the plane a thousand feet or so, but the thick white clouds (the ones outside the plane) obscured any visual clues to our altitude or position. This, combined with the smoke inside the cabin, created a rather ethereal (or nightmarish) atmosphere for the flight.

Yaklev 42-D

When we dropped below the clouds we were over land, just in from the north coast. At first, there was no sign of La Habana. We flew eastward along the coast, and after a few minutes I spotted José Martí Airport. Apparently the pilot saw it too, since he rather abruptly yanked the plane into a left bank. As soon as he got all the wheels on the tarmac we all cheered and clapped (some happy to be in Cuba, others probably just happy to be alive).

After a $20 taxi ride to the Hotel Colina in Vedado I met Racso Fernández Ortega (Chief Archaeologist, Centro de Patrimonio Cultural, La Habana) who had already taken care of my reservation and was waiting in the lobby. We had a long talk on the patio of the hotel as the weather went from muggy to cool and pleasant. Racso and I discussed the upcoming Taller in Cuba and our plans for the next two weeks of travel. Occasionally the conversation took on a somber tone, when certain financial and political realities crept into the discussion, but for the most part it was a pleasant exchange of ideas —many exciting opportunities for future cooperation.

Fri 25 May

Racso and I picked up my rental Suzuki Vitara from the Havana Libre Hotel and drove east to Boca Jaruco, to Caverna de las Cinco Cuevas. These caves were on the east side of the same road as the "handprint" cave I visited last year. Racso informed me that that cave is San Martí, and all the handprints (and other paintings) were historic —very recent, in fact— not Indian. Before entering the cave with the rock art at Cinco Cuevas, he pointed out the large bearded fig at the entrance and said that in the Antilles two kinds of trees usually signal the presence of a cave: these jagüey, and the yagruma.

We entered the cave down a short breakdown and went to the far left wall of the main chamber. Núñez had originally only reported a few drawings, and due to degradation only a two motifs were still visible. We each took a few photos and discussed the particular style. These were dibujos, drawings rather than paintings. The motifs were abstract geometric shapes, one roughly circular, the other roughly rectilinear. The other motifs that Nuñez mentioned had disappeared, and these remaining drawings were very faint.

After a while in the cave we heard someone yelling at us from up near the car. It was a guarda bosque —basically, a forest ranger who monitors protected forest or cave areas. After Racso showed him his ample credentials the ranger left with a smile and a warm handshake.

Link to photos: Cinco Cuevas

Racso and I then headed east to Santa Cruz del Norte to visit the Municipal Museum. Along the way he told me about some of the archaeological work he'd done in the area. There are dozens of sites along the sierra that parallels the coast, including a large burial cave in the low cliffs at the shore. I missed the turnoff to the town, so we had to make a U-turn at the next exit —the Havana Club distillery and bottling plant.

The Museum Director, Gracy, showed us around the exhibits, which ranged from prehistoric artifacts to sports memorabilia from the last few decades. The last room we visited was dedicated the a brief history of Havana Club rum. Racso and I were treated to a sample of the 7-year old añejo. Very nice.

Link to photos: Santa Cruz Museum

We drove back and had lunch at Bar Cubaña in Habana Vieja. It was here we met a man who sold me a box of Montecristo No. 4's. Afterward, Racso took me on a wonderful guided tour of several historic sites around Habana Vieja (architectural as well as archaeological). He made sure I had a full day before I retired to the Hotel Colina.

Sat 26 May

We drove to Güines and met up with Reinaldo Guerrero and his wife Jeorgina, as well as another caver, José Sorí Maroñas. The five of us piled into my Suzuki and headed north to Catalina. We parked the jeep at the same farm as last year, said hello to the proprietor and his family, then headed up into the sierra. Guerrero and I talked the whole way to the cave, catching up on old times and cracking as many jokes as my broken Spanish would allow. I also was treated to more lessons on the local geology and flora —more than I could possibly remember. I did make it a point to remember the guao plant. It was similar to our Virginia sumac, but apparently much more toxic.

After a leisurely stroll up we arrived at Cueva Garcia Robiou. This visit was primarily to make up for the poor photographs I took last year, but I also looked forward to discussing the rock art with Racso. Cinco Cuevas only offered a couple of drawings but we discussed them at length. I figured that the multiple styles and numerous compositions at Garcia Robiou would keep us busy for hours.

Once in the cave it was like an analytic and photographic feeding-frenzy with the rock art. The exception was Jeorgina, who stayed up in the entrance —initially. I gave Racso one of my IFRAO scales and we both worked at re-photographing the rock art. I took a few extra photos of the extensive galleries of historic inscriptions in the main chamber, Salon de Sol. Once again, I was most interested in the group of elaborate vertical motifs in the north room. Even with all of our lamps trained on the panel, the paintings were difficult to see completely. In addition to the rapacious vandalism, there has apparently been some change in geology that has led to the rapid build-up of calcium accretions on the panel —over a centimeter thick in places.

Standing in front of the paintings and looking at them first-hand, I noticed that the widely published drawings do not accurately communicate the stylistic diversity in the panel. It was clear from the different execution techniques that there are two distinct styles present, something not apparent in the original recordings. A few motifs were painted with finger-width lines, with the pigment brushed across the higher surfaces of the rough support, without completely filling in the crevices in most places. The primary (largest, most elaborate) were painted with thin (4-5 mm) lines, executed in a pigment that was fluid enough to sink into the surface irregularities.

After a few hours of looking at the rock art, Guerrero led us through an alternate south passage out of the cave. This reminded me of last year's fun route out of Cueva Pequeña de Diago (de las Palmas) in this same sierra —a heck of a tight scramble. Guerrero and Jeorgina went up first, with relative ease, then Racso. José waited at the last horizontal foot hold while I made the boxer-ripping squeeze up through the tough spot. The whole time I was twisting and reaching for positive traction, I was also taking the occasional glance down at the 10-15 m drop I'd face if I slipped. Scary, but fun. I had highly experienced cavers in front of and behind me, so I was pretty sure that things were going to be alright, albeit rather darn difficult (they knew me, and wouldn't have dragged me through anything I couldn't handle —although I honestly think this was "initiation dues" into the local caving collective). Racso snapped a shot of me as I crested the final tight vertical spot. That photo and this journal entry are testimony to the fact that I made it out.

Link to photos: Garcia Robiou

After a group photo we walked back down the sierra and I was treated to some great berries growing along the trail. Hiking in these tropical forests is always a treat, thanks to the constant buffet of sweet fruit. Back at Guerrero's house Jeorgina prepared a wonderful meal for us. Unfortunately, I had a rather bad case of low blood sugar, or dehydration, or something (or both). I could not eat. They let me lay down in a side room for a while, while they finished the great-looking meal and chatted. After 45 minutes or so I was back to life and feeling fine. Racso and I drove back to La Habana after a warm farewell to great friends.

Sun 27 May

Racso and I drove to Matanzas. Well, we made a brief stop in Güines to recover the watch I'd left at Guerrero's. Nobody was home so we left a note. Once in Matanzas we met Dr. Ercilio Vento Canosa who joined us for a visit to Cuevas Ambrosio and Musulmanes, in the Parque Varahicacos. I only took a few photos in Cueva Ambrosio, just to make up for a few poor shots from last year. I was informed that the paintings I photographed were not the originals, only reproductions. Back in the late 1970s or early 1980s Nuñez contracted Caridad Rodriguez to "restore" this cave, and the famous cave at Punta del Este. This work consisted of "cleaning" the walls to remove historic inscriptions and drawings (which, unfortunately, included the removal of some possibly African drawings), then re-painting only the presumed prehistoric motifs with modern paints and brushes. This effectively negates the possibility of studying the original materials and techniques —vital for any study of style— and relegates any research to simple motif inventories.

Link to photos: Ambrosio

The hike over to Cueva Musulmanes was great. There was an interpretive trail where I was able to see the flora and fauna of the Hicacos Peninsula. Most impressive was a giant cactus and a huge iguana. The Musulmanes Complex was a labyrinth of small caves with access to a few larger rooms. One cave had a reconstructed burial which Racso and I photographed. There were only a handful of painted motifs in the caves we visited. These were similar to the ones in Ambrosio (simple geometrics in red- or black-monochrome, with finger width lines), although still in their original condition (not "restored").

Link to photos: Musulmanes

I took Dr. Vento and Racso back to Matanzas and I went to the Hotel Canimao, a few kilometers west of the city. I relaxed, cleaned up, then drove back to Matanzas for dinner. Dr. Vento and his wife treated Racso and I to a wonderful dinner at the best restaurant in the city, the Velasco, constructed in the late 19th-century and currently undergoing renovations.

After dinner we went back to Dr. Vento's house and talked for a while over café and Montecristos. I learned a little about the relationship between the Sociedad Espeleológica de Cuba (SEC) and the Revolution (Nuñez was a captain in the rebelde army). I also learned about the cooperation between the SEC and other speleological societies, primarily outside of Latin America. Dr. Vento also discussed his recent investigations into the possible presence of european populations in Cuba over a thousand years ago (based upon craniometric calculations). Before I left, Dr. Vento gave me one of his publications, História Aborigen de Matanzas (1993), and autographed it for me.