Santa Marta The Port Made My Life

Óscar Leonardo Henríquez Linero worked for many years at the port in Santa Marta, in the Colombian Caribbean. Today, he remembers his life among goods, ships and the sea with nostalgia, humor, and immense gratitude.

“I was born in Bogotá in 1954, since my parents were living there, where they studied Law. But from a very young age, I grew up, first in Valledupar (in northeastern Colombia), where my father was a judge; and then in Santa Marta, in the Caribbean, where we moved to in the early sixties. I had a very healthy childhood, which we spent with my friends and siblings in the Quinta [Hacienda] de San Pedro Alejandrino, seeing the bed where Simón Bolívar died, as well as the bedrooms and carriages. We played and ran all around that historic place, and we loved it. We also played baseball, soccer, bowling, spinning top and flew kites. The games became all the rage depending on the season, and we had a great time.

Hard work in the loading sector

When my father died, I had to abandon my studies in Architecture and get to work. One of my father’s friends had suggested I go down to the port in Santa Marta and, since my mother’s situation was not the best, I applied and started working at the port in 1977, when I was 22 years old. While there, I was responsible for filing at the Loss and Damage Claims Office, which kept all the information related to each ship that entered or left the port, its place of origin or destination, the type and quantity of cargo it was carrying, etc. It was typical administrative work, and I was there for almost five years. Then, in 1981, I asked to be transferred to the area of operations since the pay was a lot better, and that is how I started learning everything related to loading and unloading ships. First, I was replacing dockworkers who were taking their vacations, and later, I secured a full-time position. That was the most basic job at the port, which consisted of holding of all the tools needed for organizing the merchandise that was being unloaded or loaded onto the ships. We worked very hard, and I remember that the loading and unloading zones were always full of workers. It reeked of smoke and gasoline because of the number of trucks, cranes, and heavy machinery driving around in heat that was sometimes unbearable.

Because Santa Marta was a Colombian Caribbean port, lots of bananas and coffee—export products typical of the region—were shipped out from there. At that time, banana trees still arrived by train and when we heard the whistle and the noise of the machinery, we organized to receive them at a special dock. The banana boats docked there and were loaded quickly with over a hundred workers supporting the work.

Port saved many from dying as thieves

The people who worked at the port were very humble. Most of them lived in the Pescaíto neighborhood, which is in the same area. Criminals even came from there and started earning good money and coming to their senses because they learned the value of money through honest work. Because of that people say that the port saved many of them from dying out there and stealing, because many people who did not have opportunities were able to bring their families out of poverty. They didn’t have to steal anymore; they just had to be careful not to get robbed themselves!

What I miss most about those years working at the port was the camaraderie and good work environment with my coworkers. Us coastal workers are always cracking jokes. It’s part of our way of being here in the tropics. Of course, there were some annoying or lazy coworkers, and I did get into a fight with someone more than once, but nothing serious. In general, we had a great time. Sure, there were also unpleasant things. Some coworkers died in accidents, and I myself had a couple of mishaps that, fortunately, had no permanent consequences.

When I wanted to relax a little, if there was time, I would go up on the bow of one of the ships at night and stay up there for a while looking out at the city, contemplating the sea and enjoying the breeze. I liked the feeling of the rolling waves rocking the ship.

After I was a stevedore, I became a foreman, a position I held until my retirement in 1992. The foreman coordinated the work of the crews, which were formed according to the type of merchandise being loaded or unloaded from the ships.

It shaped me as a person

I retired right when the state-owned company that managed the ships was liquidated and gave way to a new model where private individuals operated the port, even though it still belonged to the State. That change had quite an impact, which in my view, was negative because it greatly affected employment and the economy of a port city like Santa Marta. With the arrival of the neoliberal model, privatization happened suddenly, not gradually, and that had a big social and economic impact on the city as well as on other port cities, like Buenaventura [a Colombian Pacific port], where there were even incidences of violence. Here in Santa Marta, that transition was traumatic, though it wasn’t violent. One day when we arrived at work in the port buses, when we got down at the entrance, we were met with a long police cordon. They told us we no longer had a job. Many of us, like me, were pensioned, and others were bought out. But in general terms, I have to say that the port made my life project possible. It shaped me as a person and allowed me to raise my family, get married, and educate my kids. I will always be grateful for that.“

Juan Martín Fierro has recorded the story. A big thank you goes to Óscar Leonardo Henríquez Linero for sharing his harbour story with us.