Saint Lucia Forestry Stories: David Whitman ‘Memories of St. Lucia, 1978 to 1981’
David Whitman (a.k.a. Dave Mon, Jokey Boy, 7577, Boug Cacoa, M’sieu Blanc) worked with the St. Lucia Forestry Division from 1978 to 1981 as a Peace Corps volunteer.
Contributed by David Whitman, April 2025
In 1978, after graduating with a forestry degree from the University of California, I applied to become a Peace Corps volunteer. That’s a program that assigns U.S. volunteers to places around the world where they could be of assistance in various disciplines.
In school, I had also studied other subjects, including the Malaysian language. The Peace Corps told me I would be offered the first forestry vacancy there. Meanwhile, they kept sending me job openings in other regions of the world—including one with the St. Lucia Forestry Division. The home I was staying in at that time had hundreds of National Geographic magazines, so I searched through them, hoping to find St. Lucia.
My heart skipped a beat when I found a stunning double-page photo of the Pitons. I read and reread that article and carefully studied all the photos. Maybe, I thought, rather than going to the East Indies, I should consider the West Indies. And that’s how I found myself traveling 4,000 miles to St. Lucia a few months later.
After a week-long orientation in Barbados, I and nine other Peace Corps volunteers assigned to St. Lucia stepped off a LIAT plane onto the tarmac at Vigie. In that group was another forestry volunteer, Pat Noonan, who departed after about a year. And two years later, another Peace Corps forester arrived, Tom Ward. Paul Butler was there during those years, focused on parrot conservation. During overlapping stays at Edmund Forest and elsewhere, usually with bottles of rum at hand, Paul and I exchanged stories late into the night.
At that time, the Forestry Division had a small office downtown where Gloria Mortley taught me how to say, like a Lucian, a phrase I often heard there: “to-DAY-is-PAY-DAY.” On pay days today, I can still hear Gloria’s laughter when I’d say it like a true native, especially because I never had a PAY DAY from the Forestry Division!
My responsibilities evolved with time. I worked with forestry officers mapping plantations of blue mahoe, teak, and Honduras mahogany. I spent a month at the Institute of Tropical Forestry in Puerto Rico and brought back Leucaena leucocephala seeds from their research center to plant in St. Lucian nurseries. I regularly guided foreign visitors across the rainforest, discovering how fun and sometimes also challenging that could be. I recall one tourist announcing, “Such a beautiful island but it could use tidying up.” I had to restrain myself from responding with a curse in Patois. (No surprise, I had mastered several).
to see the names, tap or click here
I also taught at the Agricultural College. Although the subjects centered on forest practices and conservation, I noticed that the students had excellent opportunities in the newly independent nation to engage the public by giving talks and writing articles, so we regularly worked on those skills.
At first, some of the students naturally seemed hesitant to speak in front of a group. However, with time and encouragement from fellow classmates and me, most everyone soon got more comfortable making public presentations. I was proud to learn that many of those students became leaders in forestry and agriculture.
My forestry colleagues taught me many valuable lessons as well. We worked hard together, usually in small teams, with limited resources, and frequently under difficult conditions. The sense of comradery was strong.
Remembering those years in St. Lucia, vivid images still come to mind: soaking in the then-undeveloped sulphur springs; swimming in a natural cold-water pool near Mount Gimie; cooking on a coal pot and drinking local rum; getting fresh wood-fired bakes at dawn; hiking to the summit of Gros Piton; exploring coral reefs; swimming in the rough surf at Donkey Beach where, many years later, I would nearly drown; waiting out torrential rain showers under banana leaves or in rum shops; trudging through endless mud in rubber boots and occasionally taking falls; drinking ice-cold peanut punch on hot afternoons in town; dancing until daybreak; collecting sea shells at the dredge site.
Sitting outdoors one afternoon, two little girls approached me timidly, asked to touch my head, and declared, “dolly hair.” Sometimes, being so immersed in local life, I would momentarily forget about my dolly hair and identity.
For about a year, I had a yellow motorcycle with the plate 7577. As I’d ride around the island, I’d hear people calling out “7577!” It became a way strangers who didn’t know my name identified me. (Less friendly strangers would sometimes shout “C.I.A.!”)
I remember having fun working on the annual Agricultural Exhibitions, too. One year, the Forestry Division built a wooden house to raffle called Hurricane House. At those events, the sense of pride was evident. A love for the environment was something we all shared.
During my three years in St. Lucia, there were many memorable and historic events: Independence, Hurricanes David and Allen, the eruption of St. Vincent’s La Soufrière, Jonestown, Grenada, shifting political winds in the region, national strikes, and pausing work in the forest with Michael ‘Jahba’ Andrew and others to listen to the live radio broadcast from Jamaica of Bob Marley’s memorial.
In St. Lucia, I had time to read books, frequently by lantern or candlelight when there was no power. I especially liked reading West Indian literature during that time. (Years later, in California, I would meet Derek Walcott.) I also listened to music—on the radio, on cassette tapes that would inevitably break, and at various places around the island. It seemed to me that there were few spots you could go to in St. Lucia and not hear music.
With this new project to collect stories about forestry in St. Lucia, I’ve discovered that some of my friends from that era are no longer alive. In my mind, I remember all of them in their youth, full of life. Winston Desir, for example, singing “Mona Lisa” so expressively, his dark eyes sparkling.
Just a few hours ago, I sadly learned that one of my first friends in St. Lucia, Anselm Cox, passed away last month. I would often go to Anse La Raye to visit his Champagne Estate, where there were two buildings they called the Old Testament and the New Testament. Anselm’s large family was so welcoming to me that I would visit as often as possible. Because of that, Lorna “Ma” Cox once jokingly asked: “Is Dave on my account?”
Watching the video of Anselm’s memorial tribute online this afternoon, I learned many things about his life since we last saw each other decades ago. Memories of our adventures in St. Lucia came rushing back to me as I listened to the tributes from his loved ones. He taught me a phrase I still say to myself at times: “Are you a MAN or a MANICOU?!” And it was with Anselm that I got a nickname one night in Anse La Raye. We were at a dance party. I went outside to cool off when I heard a female voice floating on the sea breeze: “M’sieu Blanc, M’sieu Blanc…”
tap or click on images for larger view
to see the names, tap or click here
Thank you, Chris Cox, for inviting me to submit my memories for this project. What an emotional day for me, traveling back to a magical time and place.
David Whitman: dwhitman@mutualrescue.org
Would love to hear from you! Leave your comments below!
Lovely description of St.Lucia and excellent writing.
Really enjoyed reading David’s piece and seeing the photos. So many VERY VERY happy memories. Chris keep these stories coming. You are doing a great job!!!!
Thanks Paul! It was so great to connect with David and his sharing some of these windows into the past! I am encouraging all to participate and will keep them coming as I get them.
Cheers, Chris
Those were memorable days! I arrived shortly after Hurricane Allen and the slow recovery from that natural disaster. Helped with measuring the impact and inventorying the natural and planted forests. Helped publish a series called “Trees of St Lucia”.
Hi Tom! Look forward to getting your ‘Forestry Story’ lol! By chance you have a copy of the publication? Not sure if I have seen it, but know of it.
Cheers, Chris
How lovely and inspiring, M’sieu Blanc.
Dance moves needed more elaborate description. You’re the only person ever to lift me over their head in disco fever deletium!
Much Lucian Love to you
Wow, Millie! Yes, seems like David needs to elaborate more on his dance moves for us! Left some lasting impressions no doubt 😉
Cheers, Chris
Those were memorable days! I arrived shortly after Hurricane Allen and the slow recovery from that natural disaster. Helped with measuring the impact and inventorying the natural and planted forests. Helped publish a series called “Trees of St Lucia”.
Chris, what an awesome project this is—especially how it’s reconnecting people and reigniting memories. As I wrote this post, I found myself in a meditative zone trying to recapture myself in my mid-twenties.
I’d like to add one more experience that has stayed with me. Riding my motorcycle from Castries to Soufrière at a leisurely pace one sensationally beautiful morning, I surprisingly had the serpentine west coast road all to myself. The tropical breeze was seductively warm and the sea below was dazzling in the morning sunlight. Somewhere between Anse La Raye and Canaries, I was suddenly overcome by a transcendent sense of joy. What a life-affirming blessing St. Lucia gave me that day!
David it is indeed an honor to ‘host’ this journey of discovery and welcome the reception it has been receiving. So glad to have connected with you for this project!
Nu lezen we eindelijk eens meer verhalen over jouw tijd ginds ver weg nadat ik een paar maanden met je ” studeerde” op UCSC in 1974. Altijd fijn om geschiedenis te delen en te absorberen. Van al die bijnamen wist ik niks. Leuke weetjes zijn dat.
This was a wonderful recount of a man who loves life and all it offers. It’s not about cars, excess money, food and drink, or those MacHouses we now like to build to let people know how wealthy we’ve become. Great piece. Thank you.
Thanks for your reflection Alvaro.
Best, Chris
Dear David, I feel deep emotions coming to the surface. Those experienced in Brazil in the 1990s, when we met there and shared many stories. I seemed to recognize each person from Santa Lucia that you described in someone else who exists in the Northeast of Brazil, unique people who leave simply indelible marks on us.
I read and reread your text, immersed myself in each word (I confess that I abused the dictionary due to my poor English).
Like photos? Absolute beauty, without time. The faces, the light, the textures (even the smells!) of skins and things that seem to be from another time. I bet that nature preserves them and can still be found, despite everything and everyone. They are there, in the woods, in the forest.
“Are you a MAN or a MANICOU?!” brought back vivid memories of my mother when she said to me “Você é um homem ou um camundongo?!”. I bet they have the same connotation. And “M’sieu Blanc” just makes me cry, listening to my mother’s voice telling stories of maids, daughters and granddaughters of slaves of African origin.
Thank you for existing, dear Lagostão. I think you can add this nickname to your already extensive list!
Thanks for your comment Leonardo!
Best, Chris
The article is interesting and written in a conversational, authentic tone that clearly conveys David’s experiences in Saint Lucia. I enjoyed it. It made me recall in such vivid detail, my own experiences as an employee of the Ministry of Agriculture.
Indeed Eden! Thanks for sharing.
Cheers, Chris
David my dear 7577, what a beautiful heart-felt tribute to a most wondrous place! I remember clearly how I went there specifically because of your recommendation and loved every moment there. My visit was not long enough! Your article made me laugh, smile and wish for those times again. Can you write more, please? Thank you for sharing your stories with all of us!
Thanks for your kind contribution Wuin!
Cheers, Chris
Dou Dou, It’s been nearly a week since I read your essay for the first of many times. My emotions have been on a roller coaster ever since… from laughter to tears, from joyous memories shared to longing for youth and days gone by.
The greatest impact upon me was your additional comment about a trip down the west coast highway to Soufriere and having a transcendent moment. That really hit home with me as I had just such a moment myself. I often had to pinch myself to know that envirnment was my reality. I have shared your words with others whose time on the island may have overlaped or bypassed yours. To a person, they each can share a similar experience of Joy.
Thanks for your kind contribution Clintine!
Cheers, Chris
Clintine, I really appreciate your reaction to my comment about joy. That moment that morning was rapturous for me. To me, sudden, unexpected moments of pure joy, like the ones you and I were blessed to experience in St. Lucia, lift our souls, giving us a glimpse of the divine.
On that long-ago motorcycle ride to Soufrière, the dazzling blue-green Caribbean Sea in the morning light, the canopy of tropical trees against the limitless sky, the warm ocean breeze and sunshine, the curves of the road rising and falling with the terrain all set the scene for a transcendental experience. Lucky and blessed—and still in awe.
Knowing David as I do, and I also a former Peace Corps Volunteer in Saint Vincent & the Grenadines I revealed in reading his story and his relating of his Peace Corps years in Saint Lucia. His picturesque story touched my heart and pulled me back to those years of living in the Caribbean and the uniqueness of a life well lived!