Free Cocaina: A Book on Those Who Make It by Magnus Linton, John Eason

rainforest, with an incredible range of plant and animal species; a huge lagoon, which is home to mating whales every September; and long black-sand beaches with occasional odd-looking limestone pillars sticking up. It rains here almost constantly. Only a spot in Hawaii, atop a volcano, has more annual precipitation than Chocó, and when the sun does manage to break out following a thunderstorm, both the rainforest and the largest ocean in the world are cast in a dramatic and beautiful light.
    Yet as more fishermen returned home with a plastic-wrapped white catch instead of fish, the sense of community began to deteriorate, and new forces started to steer the village in a different direction. The increased presence of policemen, and the villagers’ growing knowledge of what cocaine is actually worth, made for more discreet business dealings, and the fishermen began to divide their fortune between as few, instead of as many, as possible. But here everyone knows everyone else’s business.
    Leopoldo is still the most talked-about person in town and, according to the village gossips, he is still the one who purchases the found cargo, though he has gradually had to pay more for it. The prerequisites for managing the logistics of getting the illegal cargo into another boat heading north — especially dealing with the essential police and mafia contacts — include both money and personal connections, qualifications that only Leopoldo has.
    Another person who has made a great deal of money and is the object of Leo’s envy is Lucho, who distinguishes himself from everyone else by his expensive shorts and surfboard, and by taking frequent trips out to sea on his new boat, equipped with large motors. When asked how his life circumstances changed overnight, Lucho just smiles and says ‘no comment’, though a number of men in the village confirm Leo’s version of the story: Lucho found two undamaged 64-kilogram drums five years ago and sold them right away for what was becoming a standard price — 2.7 million pesos, or 1500 USD, per kilo — and with his newfound fortune purchased a fast boat. This made it possible for him to find floating cargo much more easily than all the slow-canoe fishermen; over time, the inhabitants of Pozón have learned how to assess the ocean currents and have realised that drums dumped far out at sea tend to be drawn towards a particular bay located several nautical miles southward, and the only way to get there is by motorboat. By now Lucho and some other men have somewhat of a monopoly on the business, and they search this treasure chest of nature regularly. The relationship between these men with motorboats and the police and guerrillas grew, leaving the poor fishermen, with their patched-up canoes, more and more often without their share of this modern maritime bounty.
    Iván, a fisherman with leathery skin, is one of the many village elders to have found large quantities of cocaine, although the only place it took him was down a slippery slope. While chronic alcoholism is common in the village, when Iván pulled up no one knows how many kilos, he took a mental vacation by another means: pot. Using cocaine goes against Chocó’s cultural norms, and considering how quickly it can be turned into cash, it rarely occurs to the villagers to use it themselves; cannabis, on the other hand, is a well-established drug. Iván’s children watched their father’s status as the most prosperous fisherman in the village decline, and today he compensates for his glorious past with overblown mythomania.
    ONE DAY A man named John Wayne comes walking into town. His arrival follows yet another tropical rainstorm, and all the dirt roads in the village are flooded. He pronounces his name ‘John Veiner’, and explains that his mother idolises a film star he does not really know much about, except for his name.
    ‘I got here yesterday,’ he says. ‘Things were getting too intense down there.’
    There is a