Last Tuesday a friend called me to advise that he was going to look at a boat in which I might have some interest. He wants bargain boats that need work, I just want a nice boat in which I can tool around. I met him at the designated place and met the intermediary, Antonio. Antonio is well known and well regarded in town as a hard working honest soul who raises crops on the mainland, fishes and will perform a wide range of duties as long as they are ethical.
My friend, Stephen encountered Antonio at the sole remaining boat engine repair facility on this island, one which will be shuttering its doors this week. Stephens inquiry to Antonio set the man on a quest to find a boat. A short time later Antonio approached Stephen and advised him that he had located a boat, hence the call.
We shot the shit while waiting for the boat owner to make the long trip from his apartment to our table. We were sitting in a restaurant he owns beneath his apartment. Finally the owner showed up and asked if we wanted to see the boat. 1 That was kind of the point. Maybe "we'd like to see the boat you have for sale" is some secret passphrase used before getting into child pornography exchanges, I don't know.
The boot is kept moored behind Tropical Suites, one of the high end hotels in town. That was news to me; I didn't know they leased slips there. It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission so we all walked through the lobby to the back of the hotel, me with my dog in tow. The boat was a nice 21 foot center console panga powered by a yamaha 60 hp. The owner didn't know if it was a two stroke or a four stroke. 2 "Do you add oil to the gas?" "No." "Then it's a four stroke."
"Do you want to take it for a test drive?" "Yeah." "I didn't bring the keys."3 So he went off, fetched the keys and returned. Stephen, the boat owner, Antonio, and Hayu, my affectionate little pissing machine went for a ride. The boat road well, but certainly wasn't overpowered. The owner described how much he liked the boat. He said the Yamaha had given him no trouble, unlike the Etech he formerly had. The instrumentation indicated that the Yammie had 396 hours on it. After we toured around for a bit he said he wasn't sure if he wanted to sell it, Antonio had talked him into it. 4
He allowed me to take it out with Stephen to see that she was an adequate performer with less of a load. I took it out about a mile and a half and we headed back. The owner indicated that he was heading off to Panama City and that he would think about whether he wanted to sell it and would let me know by Friday, when he returned. Later that night he called and told me that he was ready to part with it.
After returning Antonio told me that the boat had been flipped out by bird island. Yup, with the Etech.5 Submerging an engine in saltwater is not a recipe for reliability.
Erwin, the local mechanic, was quite familiar with the boat and suggested that I put a 115 on it and while doing so, replace the seriously undersized conduit that ran between the console and the stern, but said that the engine would be fine for tooling around in the bay, he just wouldn't take it offshore (deep, unprotected water). Hell I wouldn't go twenty miles into the ocean without a backup motor.
After returning on Friday the seller called me to ask if I was still interested in the boat. Yup, I was, but I was in the middle of dinner in a busy place, so we kept the conversation short. Couldn't do anything about it until the bank opened anyway.
On Monday, I tried to buy the boat and kept sending him emails. "I need your route and transit number, your bank account number, your mailing address for the account. You need to find the receipt for the engine, the hull, the registration, receipts for the electronics, owners manuals. More emails exchanged.
I need the mailing address for your bank account. 6He promptly emailed me the code and I set up the payee.
Today I got online to my bank and initiated the wire transfer. Hours later, while trying to check on the status I was advised that my online access had been deactivated and that I needed to call the bank. Back in the states my attorney had been called to verify the transaction. This was not a huge amount of money, far less than I have wired in the last couple of months. After the usual screening questions, something anybody who casually knew me in my former life could answer, which of the following makes and models of cars have you owned, which of these houses was the the last house you lived in, which of the following companies have I owned, they reactivated my account and authorized the transfer.
In the meantime the seller was down at the town notary, trying to get a bill of sale translated into Spanish as all legal documents in Panama must be in Spanish. The usual failure to return from lunch in a timely manner caused, what by now I have come to expect, a delay. I made my way down to the office. We have a 9:30 appointment on Thursday to get the sale notarized. Now he has my money and I have no boat.7
My friend, Stephen encountered Antonio at the sole remaining boat engine repair facility on this island, one which will be shuttering its doors this week. Stephens inquiry to Antonio set the man on a quest to find a boat. A short time later Antonio approached Stephen and advised him that he had located a boat, hence the call.
WTFs
We shot the shit while waiting for the boat owner to make the long trip from his apartment to our table. We were sitting in a restaurant he owns beneath his apartment. Finally the owner showed up and asked if we wanted to see the boat. 1 That was kind of the point. Maybe "we'd like to see the boat you have for sale" is some secret passphrase used before getting into child pornography exchanges, I don't know.
The boot is kept moored behind Tropical Suites, one of the high end hotels in town. That was news to me; I didn't know they leased slips there. It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission so we all walked through the lobby to the back of the hotel, me with my dog in tow. The boat was a nice 21 foot center console panga powered by a yamaha 60 hp. The owner didn't know if it was a two stroke or a four stroke. 2 "Do you add oil to the gas?" "No." "Then it's a four stroke."
"Do you want to take it for a test drive?" "Yeah." "I didn't bring the keys."3 So he went off, fetched the keys and returned. Stephen, the boat owner, Antonio, and Hayu, my affectionate little pissing machine went for a ride. The boat road well, but certainly wasn't overpowered. The owner described how much he liked the boat. He said the Yamaha had given him no trouble, unlike the Etech he formerly had. The instrumentation indicated that the Yammie had 396 hours on it. After we toured around for a bit he said he wasn't sure if he wanted to sell it, Antonio had talked him into it. 4
He allowed me to take it out with Stephen to see that she was an adequate performer with less of a load. I took it out about a mile and a half and we headed back. The owner indicated that he was heading off to Panama City and that he would think about whether he wanted to sell it and would let me know by Friday, when he returned. Later that night he called and told me that he was ready to part with it.
After returning Antonio told me that the boat had been flipped out by bird island. Yup, with the Etech.5 Submerging an engine in saltwater is not a recipe for reliability.
Erwin, the local mechanic, was quite familiar with the boat and suggested that I put a 115 on it and while doing so, replace the seriously undersized conduit that ran between the console and the stern, but said that the engine would be fine for tooling around in the bay, he just wouldn't take it offshore (deep, unprotected water). Hell I wouldn't go twenty miles into the ocean without a backup motor.
After returning on Friday the seller called me to ask if I was still interested in the boat. Yup, I was, but I was in the middle of dinner in a busy place, so we kept the conversation short. Couldn't do anything about it until the bank opened anyway.
On Monday, I tried to buy the boat and kept sending him emails. "I need your route and transit number, your bank account number, your mailing address for the account. You need to find the receipt for the engine, the hull, the registration, receipts for the electronics, owners manuals. More emails exchanged.
- I need the mailing address for your bank account.
- I need the mailing address for your bank account.
I need the mailing address for your bank account. 6He promptly emailed me the code and I set up the payee.
Today I got online to my bank and initiated the wire transfer. Hours later, while trying to check on the status I was advised that my online access had been deactivated and that I needed to call the bank. Back in the states my attorney had been called to verify the transaction. This was not a huge amount of money, far less than I have wired in the last couple of months. After the usual screening questions, something anybody who casually knew me in my former life could answer, which of the following makes and models of cars have you owned, which of these houses was the the last house you lived in, which of the following companies have I owned, they reactivated my account and authorized the transfer.
In the meantime the seller was down at the town notary, trying to get a bill of sale translated into Spanish as all legal documents in Panama must be in Spanish. The usual failure to return from lunch in a timely manner caused, what by now I have come to expect, a delay. I made my way down to the office. We have a 9:30 appointment on Thursday to get the sale notarized. Now he has my money and I have no boat.7
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