Cape & Islands News

Mosquito madness and Dengue Fever

A can of DEET a day to keep mosquitoes at bay

Anti-Dengue posters in the Cape Verde capital of Praia. (credit - T. Kane Stanton)

By Andy Buckley

MAIO, Cape Verde - There's a mosquito in my room. It buzzed my face earlier, and now it's up by the overhead fluorescent light. In a puddle on the floor beneath, ten more lie dead, suffocated in their much-hated DEET.

Andy Buckley interviews Joseph Brito on Maio (credit - T. Kane Stanton)

"Dengue Fever, Ima f**k you up", (credit - Feleke Astatkie)

Job Lot had this Deep Woods Off equivalent on sale before I left. FAA restrictions had been stretched to allow two cans of aerosol in the checked bags of passenger bound for Dengue-infested Cape Verde. Every other member of our party checked one bag. I checked two, and therefore guessed no one would be the wiser if I put two cans per bag. Turned out to be a good decision. Tonight I'm using up a whole can.

Now one mosquito might not seem like a big deal. None of the other members of our crew from Hit and Run History has had any problems. I've had one in every room I've checked into since day one. In the capital city of Praia, on the volcanic island of Fogo (just two blocks down from the hospital crowded with dengue victims lying in tents in the courtyard), and now here on this easternmost and least populous island of the African archipelago nation of Cape Verde.

16,744 suspected cases of dengue in five islands

Dry, flat Maio. Last month, the Isle of May became the second island where cases of dengue were found. As of today, the Ministry of Health reported 16,744 suspected cases of dengue in five islands: Brava, Fogo, Maio, Sal and Santiago.

As earlier reported, this is the first dengue outbreak in the country. Lying 300 miles west of Africa, ten months of dry season, the people here were unfamiliar with the mosquito-borne disease. I have seen few screens on windows, and fairly often seen a simple blanket hanging where a house's front door should be. It has been in the high eighties to low nineties, hazy and humid for most of our trip. And every time I have checked into a room, I have found a window open somewhere.

Besides the simple unfamiliarity of how to combat a simple parasite-spread disease, when Dengue Fever arrived here last month Cape Verdeans did not have immunity against the disease. While not the sort of immunity one might get from having, say, chicken pox, there is some resistance having contracted it before. During epidemics of Dengue, infection rates among those who have not been previously exposed to the virus are often between 40% and 50%, but could reach 80% to 90% in worse case scenario.

I have never had Dengue, nor intend to. I have drenched my sheets in DEET, my unscreened and closed windows, all my lights, and the walls around my bed. Still, they come, from somewhere. Once a mosquito bites a person infected with Dengue, the virus infects the mosquito, taking up residence in the salivary glands. As long as it lives, the bug will carry and spread the virus. It only needs to find one unprotected spot on me while I sleep.

When we arrived on quiet little Maio, into the village of Porto Ingles, we passed by the small clinic across from the beach downtown. There were plenty of people outside, reminding us of our time earlier in Fogo. But Maio is the driest of all the islands, with the interior said to resemble the Sahara. For years, the main industry was the production of salt by the British East India Company. This is the last place one would expect to find a mosquito. I have twelve, so far.

At 10:30 PM, I am go to the front desk and ask the manager to come take a look. They have no other rooms available, I know. Joseph Brito, a tall, dark skinned man, checks out my room, sees the puddle of dead mosquitoes, and sprays a can of some industrial-strength insecticide around the room. Then he tells me to leave the room, and pulls a chair out on the front step of the hotel and we talk.

Asked about "the dengue", he says many, many people have been sick here on Maio. He points up and down the narrow, cobblestoned streets of the town. "No lights on." I realize suddenly that the streets are strangely black. Lights attract bugs. So the town I had easily navigated in the day is now devoid of all street activity, quiet and dark.

Brito says the worst infection rates have been closer to the shorefront, a few blocks down from the hotel. Besides turning off lights, people are to keep their shore-facing windows and doors closed. My room's windows face the shore. But at the front of the hotel, where we are now, we should be fine. That is, except for the only light on the street being over my head.

I am in a tank top, shorts and bare feet. My bug spray is still back in my room, inaccessible for the next ten minutes due to the fumes of the bug killer Brito sprayed. He adds, "Some people get sick, then get better, then get sick again."

So much for any immunity gained from an initial infection of Dengue.

Reports Dengue hopping from Puerto Rico and Mexico into Texas and Florida

Yet I stay outside talking with Brito for another half hour. He was an Able Bodied Seaman on cargo ships and tankers sailing all around the world. Eleven months in Vietnam, another voyage to Singapore and China. On an icebreaker in Canada, and down to the Gulf of Mexico. Sitting here in the tropics, with mosquitoes waiting to infect the both of us, he tells me that the worst weather and bugs he's encountered were off the coast of Florida.

With this, I recall that reports are that Dengue is hopping from Puerto Rico and Mexico into Texas and Florida.

No bugs bothered me that night, although the back door to the building having been left open the next day meant a whole new crop to kill my second night there. They may have been somewhat lethargic, as I was able to punch one or two on the wall (see photo). Still, not one of our party got sick, despite seeing many who were. I credit that to plain common sense of not going out at dawn or dusk, always carrying bug repellant, and, for the most part, wearing long sleeves and pants. That, and always closing our windows.

On the other hand, Prime Minister Neves and his Finance Minister have both contracted Dengue. Worse, though, Dr. Mario Sena, director of the hospital on Fogo, has since come down with the disease he spent so many long hours treating.

As a final gesture of good will, at last departing from the airport in Praia, I gathered a bagful of all our supplies from our crew to deliver to the hospital on Fogo. Safe within the airport and an hour from departure, we felt safe finally to dispense with our bug spray, wipes and lotion, as well as our bottles of Vitamin C, hand sanitizer and Tylenol. One hopes the Health Ministry and the airport might encourage all departing travelers to shed their supplies of the same by setting up a collection bin here.

For information on how to assist in the relief effort against dengue in Cape Verde, contact Luisa Schaffer at BNHC at (508) 894-3613 or schaefferl@bnhc.org.

• Read Part Two, Hit and Run History Delivers Supplies to Cape Verde Hospital here.
• Read Part One, "Chatham video crew arrive on Cape Verde Islands" here.