I have known many rivers, and I remember the stellings of Guyana and Suriname: crowded ferries, diesel-scented air, brown currents, shared food, laughter, prayers—and strangers becoming family before the opposite shore appeared. I also remember the shiver beneath the laughter: those anxious moments when a vessel stalled upon a Corantijn River bar and we were reminded, quietly, of the awesome power of the water. Today, that memory becomes a dirge for those lost... Read More

Guyana’s grief reverberates across every bay, gulf, and inlet of our shared world. It touches the shores of Suriname, reaches across the sea to Jamaica, whispers through the hills of Haiti, and rests gently on the quiet beaches of Nevis. Wherever people live by the mercy of the waters, wherever men and women step onto a deck with trust in their hearts, this pain belongs to us all. We grieve for the souls who never saw the wooden planks of the landing stelling again, nor felt