Tropical Survival Training

Jungle of Central America with the Pups.

“You made us. You have to take us to the jungle.”

Fair enough. It is our responsibility as fathers to raise our sons to be warriors, which includes being able to survive and be self-sufficient in all environments. From an early age for best results, which also involves its share of logistics and complications. If only for all the various anti-venoms we have to carry, in the likely event, or I should say when, one of us gets bitten by some tropical abomination.

So, we headed to Central America. On Air Canada, and thus via the fascist hel hole Canada has become, because the flights were free (miles… from some “trading” in Afghanistan). Which also allowed our pups to get a taste of survival when it comes to food before even landing in Costa Rica. Air Canada flight attendants decided indeed that a 15-min limit applied to the consumption of food on a delayed 6-hour flight, including for toddlers. Just “for our safety” of course, gods forbid a child taking a mask off for more than a few minutes. As for us, we also got a taste of sleep deprivation expected of any SERE training, when the head flight attendant spent the entire flight slamming carts and galley doors, smiling at us with great satisfaction every time we looked at him from our shitty beds (Air Canada has some of the tightest beds in the industry in Business Class). 

Once in San Jose, it took us nearly 12 hours to reach our destination by road, instead of the 4 we had planned and expected. The pups, on the verge of a heat stroke, and nearly drowning in their own sweat, probably thought that demanding we take them to the jungle might not have been such a great idea after all. Going from Svalbard to Costa Rica doesn’t make things easier. But they have dignity and they never complain. So they kept quiet. 

The next day, survival training officially began. The mission: Cross the border into Panama undetected. To get milk for the pups. Then return to Costa Rica, undetected as well. While paying some dudes from the Panamanian Public Forces (the official name of their military that is not supposed to be one). Duration: 3 days.

One of the first challenges was avoiding drowning. First on our sweat, then in the monsoon that hit us and flooded everything. The pups had the exact same equipment as us, including U.S. Marine Corps jungle boots custom made for their tiny feet by Bates in Oregon, and of course, a mini version of Crye Precision G3 combat pants. A small very light pack as well (at that age and stage of development, we cannot have them carry any weight), primarily for cohesion, because we had one too. They were exceptionally brave little fellas. They did not complain even once. They pushed through, even though we had to carry them on multiple occasions due to terrain. Of course, it was a misery. The jungle always is. But they needed to learn. We also kept it to only 3 days so they would have fond memories of it down the road, rather than be traumatized for life. Ultimately, the operation/expedition was a success. We survived. Ate a lot of stuff “tartar” (raw). The pups ate the same thing because we did. At times really trying to control their gag reflex. Slept in mid air (still harassed by things), and managed to cross border multiple times without detection and while being chased by dudes supposedly in their element. 

So, what did the pups learn besides survival in the jungle and how amazing the arctic and polar regions, their home, is compared to tropical areas? Quite a few things. 

That crocodiles can swallow them whole. Which didn’t prevent them from wanting to ride them, seeing them as the closest thing to a dragon, and they have always wished they had a pet dragon. That almond milk, as advertised by Americans and Canadians, is one of the greatest lies in history. Almond trees indeed do not produce actual milk, no matter how much you poke them or ask your dads to do so with their knife. They make disgusting almonds that are heavy enough to hurt you if they fall on your head (should you die from it, this would be registered as a COVID death for sure). That monkeys, like their mothers and other women, are prone to nervous breakdowns, especially when chased by pups in coconut and almond trees, which the wild animals are clearly not used to. That coconut milk is not really milk, and it is much more difficult to crack open a coconut than to milk a cow at home. Or that such coconut milk somewhat tastes similar to the “jungle smoothie” they inhaled when one of the Marines had a minute of inattention upon their return to civilization. In fact, a piña colada. That very brightly colored snakes are not necessarily begging to be eaten “tartar” by very hungry pups, but instead a warning to predators, pups and their dads included, that they can hurt them a lot if they get close. That cold water simply doesn’t exist in Central America, even from the tap, in fact a puzzling discovery. 

And of course, that their dads will always be there waiting to catch them when they fall from coconut trees, like they are when they fall from beams, spruce trees, roofs, top of milk trucks, plane wings, light fixtures at the Banff Springs, mountain slopes on skis, through ice, etc… etc…

Overall, a great experience for all involved.