Squall

A couple walked to the beach east of Red Frog and had their backpacks rifled.  The husband chased the culprit into the jungle and hadn't returned three hours later.  I went off to round up some Indians to conduct a search without success.  Then I went to Old Town on Bastimentos to recruit the the police, but they wouldn't go on account of the weather.  So, off I went in the dark to Colon to recruit a party.

While crossing from Bastimentos through the channel a blow came out of nowhere.  The winds kicked up to sixty miles an hour.  A water spout rose to what I was told was a thousand feet in the air, but I don't know how that can be judged, although the event was televised live via weather satellites.  Roofs were blown off of buildings in town.  Boats sank.

I was just trying to survive.  My first thought was I should put on a life jacket, but I couldn't let go of the wheel without considerable risk of the boat being flipped. 

It really sucks when you can't see much past the bow through the torrents or the waves that tower over your head so you just point into the biggest thing coming at you and crash to the sea without any idea where you are because you can't see shit and you know that you are within a quarter mile of water with coral that lies but a foot beneath calm seas. 

The engine at full throttle spent most of its time driving the boat uphill over the ten to twelve foot swells.  West, head west.   Damn have I missed the whole island?  I should have been there a long time ago.  Just keep  heading into the waves.  Thank god I have a full tank of gas.  I could burn it all out just trying to keep afloat.  Finally I spotted a radio tower and made it into a bay where I took refuge until the storm subsided.

That was the longest two miles I've spent at sea in many a year.

I dropped off a guy at Aqua Lounge.  Did I want to hang around?  No, I can't stand this music.  I was just about to depart when the water taxis started arriving in droves carrying twenty young women apiece.   The nightly prowl was on.  Nope, I need a quiet night.  I went home.

Not every day is ground hog day.  

I've got the house listed for sale and a prospective buyer will be checking it out tomorrow.  Wish me luck.

Ground Hog Day

As my all time favorite guest tells me, my life is ground hog day.  Also known as same shit, different day.

Off to town at 2:00 to get Ana and Amaya, both 25 from Spain.  Ana is a Civil Engineer and Amaya is a geologist.   They were swarmed at Casa Verde.  I chatted and waited, and waited, and waited.  "C'mon girls, let's go."  "Jim, you're coming back right?" "Yeah, tomorrow."  "Damn."

Off to Bastimentos, a quick walk of the town, a little grocery shopping.  The girls made a spanish omelette at the Jaguars and we invited him for dinner.  Jaguar showed me the place to buy veggies for $.80 a pound, they are $1.50 a pound in Bocas Town.   I go through a lot of veggies.  Home, chat, to bed.


Saturday we went to town, bought food and drinks and sailed to Playa Estrella on Carlos' boat.  Well, we went under power.  It was estimated we used two gallons of diesel for the 24 mile trip.   We had seventeen people on the boat.  I would have burned twelve gallons of gas at $4.65/gallon.

Saturday night was Andy's Crawford's, benefit concert, everybody had a blast.  The Lemongrass was packed.  Go inside, listen to music, mingle, go outside, cool off, mingle, repeat.   Then off to the bookstore.  At two we gave up the ghost and went home.  Bookstore Dave wasn't there, he was recovering from a beating over the back with a baseball bat from one of three assailants who wanted his wallet.


Sunday we went fishing.  Ana had never been fishing.  The first fish she ever caught was a shark.  That's a nice little story to take back home.  




Then we went to the bat cave and walked all the way to the waterfall and swam at the pool.   Off to Clyde's island.  Verne wasn't there, he is in the states indefinitely.  I hope he is happier there.  Off to Simon's.  Back home for snorkeling, swimming, sitting on the dock.  Dinner, picture editing, chatting, to bed.  It was a late night and I only got three hours sleep.

Monday, off to Red Frog. Swimming in the surf, walking the beach, lying in hammocks, me reading a book the girls napping.   Back to town.  Dropped them off.  Adios chicas, keep in touch.

Ok, I missed posting about four or five girls in July.  It get's pretty friggin' monotonous to read doesn't it?

 Next up, a girl from Argentina.

Sailing to Playa Estrella

Fishing and Bat Cave

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Gotta Have Connections

The problem with the starter on my boat was a bad connection inside the Perko switch, which is used to switch between batteries.  I really don't need a second battery as the engine is small enough that it is readily pull started.   The switch was yanked and the motor hard wired to the battery.

Victor wouldn't take back the part he sold me that I didn't need.  He and Frank pointed fingers at each other.  Frank told me that I bought it from Victor so I needed to deal with him. Victor told me that Frank was

Now I still need to get battery cables and replace the ones I have as they are oxidizing.  Salt water plays hell with copper.

A couple of minutes at Pananama Cable and wireless and I got a SIM for $1.98 with my old phone number back.

Another quiet day.  I need more of these.

Getting Wired

Hacked my way to the far side of this island.  Just a little exercise.  Nice path too.  But it ends in muck on the far side at low tide, shallow water over muck at high tide.   It's a path to nowhere, but there are some interesting things to see on the path.  This is where I take all the girls to see the rare frogs.  Usually I only have to travel 30 feet so this is wretched excess.  But it's me, what do you expect?  Simon is coming tomorrow to mow the lawn with a machete.  I think I will go with him to get about 150 pineapple tops to plant.   I need more fruit trees too.

Strange thing, for the last three days I have had buzzards in all the trees.  Never saw but one or two at a time soaring.  Now I have dozens of them in each of four different trees.

Went to town. So my power cables are shot and need to be replaced? Hmmm. I took a knife to the insulation, peeled it back two inches. Ok, all I have to do is cut off the cable and put on new terminals.

No 00 terminals at Rukel, Chow Kai, Richards, Surte Bocas. That's it. I have no more choices. Every size but what I need. I took a 000 terminal and placed it on the wire, mashed living shit out of it and decided to solder it. I dispatched a guy to the hardware store. There was a 60 watt soldering iron at Chow Kai for $6.99 and a 40 watt soldering iron at Surte Bocas for $1.67. That's what he picked.

I had to laugh. No way that thing could ever put out heat as fast as this thick copper cable could dissapate it. Fortunately somebody overheard me and reached into his backpack and pulled out a propane torch and some solder. Ok, good to go.

Oh man there is a lot of water in the bilge that won't go to the back of the boat. I have to cut an access panel and put a bilge amidships. Oh and I need new hinges too. Yaaah! Yup better order another prop.

Went home. No hot water. WTF? Replaced the batteries in the hot water heater that ignite the flame. Nada. Down to the dock. Swap out another new tank for the new tank I just installed. Fixed. Now to piss away some more money to keep the boat running.

Well, I have a couple of lovelies visiting from Spain.  That should be a nice diversion.  We are going sailing Saturday on a friend's boat.   

Whatever, the chicken is done, the balsamic reduction is done.  Time for dinner.  Luego!

Water Catchment

A couple of jamokes came over to work on my water catchment system.

My catchment was highly inefficient. The downspout ran to the ground, under the ground, back up and finally reduced from a 3” pipe to a 3/4” pipe. The resistance caused much of the water to backup and go into the overflow before it reached the tanks. The pipes were easily clogged with debris that accumulates in the gutter.

A couple of elbows and a coupling later and the downspout feed the tank from the top with a three inch piece of PVC. A cotton T shirt was stretched over the top of the tank and covered with a screen. Any non dissolved debris is readily caught and cleaned up.

Minutes after it was completed it started raining. Even in the light drizzle I was accumulating water faster that I had been during torrents. Keep it simple.

The two tanks are connected by a three inch pipe with a “T” in the middle. This has been used to drain off overflow. I need to remove the “T” so that the water flows from the first tank into the second tank and attach another pipe to the second tank and connect it to the drain. This should be fun. Trying to insert a coupling or union on rigid PVC attached to tanks that weigh many tons. I guess I'll have to drain the second tank to pull this off.

It cleared up and I sharpened my machete and made a path almost clear across this island.

Start me up

I was supposed to take a couple of French girls around the bay on one of my famed introduction to Bocas tours.  They called me the night before.  I had never met them.  I did manage to get the boat started and get into town but wasn't comfortable enough with the boat to take on passengers.

Hmmmm.....  what a lovely pair of girls.   Oh, well, what can you do? They wanted to know if we could rent a boat and go to Zapatilla's and Coral Cay and Hospital Point my house.   By this time it was one in the afternoon.   Three hours had been pissed away with a Spanish idiot who thought the world revolved around him.  "I don't want to go to the beach."  "That's fine, you weren't invited."  "I want to go snorkeling."  "Then go fucking snorkeling, what does that have to do with us?"  "I want to be with you."  "Will you please just kindly go away?"  "Garrett from his hammock announced that he should kindly just go fuck himself somewhere.

Ahhh, who needs this?   I went off to see if I could find a starter motor.  Nope, none in Bocas, no surprise.  None Almirante, nor David, nor Panama City.  Not one in the whole damn country.   Ok, what to do?  Get one shipped in?   Send off my armature to be rebuilt?

I changed the oil in the boat.  Bought some starter rope, fashioned a handle out of a broomstick.  Bought a replacement paddle.  Stocked up on food.  The girl at the checkout counter at Super Gourmet wanted to know if I had started a restaurant.   Yeah, that's a lot of lunch meat.  I'm on kind of a sandwich kick now.

Ok, I think I'll go home and stay for two or three days.

Later Bocas.

Welcome to Bocas

Off to town.  A few things to take care of.  Trying to find a venue for a fund raiser for a local expat who just had open heart surgery in Houston and has no health insurance.

I pulled the boat into Casa Verde and told a friend that I was going to walk to see some other people I know at Mar e Iguana.  It's not more than a three mile round trip, but it was hot and the buildings block the breeze.  Nobody wanted to make the walk.

I took the boat to Frank.  Damn.  When I try to start her, "click, click, click,click". Plenty of voltage, good clean connections.  Ahh, Christ, this is not going to be cheap.  Turns out it was the Starter Relay Assembly.  Frank called it the solenoid.   Not quite my man.   The Starter Relay Assembly is a $400 part, the solenoid is a $15 part.   He procured one from Victor for $100, I'm sure it was salvaged from another outboard.

Then Frank told me I need a new bobbin.  What the hell is a bobbin?  He showed me one.  An armature.  Ok, I can get an armature rebuilt (that is a $450 part) or I could replace the whole starter.  I am not going to turn a $600 starter (plus shipping and duty, let's call it $800) into a piece at a time repair that would add up to much down time and $2000 in parts.  Or am I?

I walked back to town.   Garrett was calling out to me from the deck of room 301 at Palma Royale.  Right under the room Jimmy Buffett stays in.  What the hell?  A month ago you had $300 total to your name and were going to spend it all on airfare to get home and now you are in one of the most expensive hotels in town.  I walked up to see him.  "What the hell are you doing in here?" "I'm celebrating.  I got an extension on my unemployment." Wow!

Back to Casa Verde.  The guy who was making my console cover was beaming like a proud father as he slipped the tight fitting cover with room for the side lights and a slit for the throttle control.  It fit like a hooker's skirt.   People were laughing on the dock.  He didn't know they were laughing at him.  Walter said "Welcome to Bocas."  Ahh... shit.   How do I tell the guy that this should drape over loosely.  The seams were already to blow, like the jeans button on the Mama Loca barmaid.  When that thing goes, somebody is gonna die.

I got home.  The iPhone I had bought off Ebay and received a couple of days earlier would not take a charge.   Great!

Mayhem

I told her I would see her tomorrow.  Didn't seem much point with the little pouty in tow.  But I promised.

With a sigh I took off to the resort at which she was staying.

There she was with a couple pound lobster sitting next to the kid.

Hi girl! I returned, as promised.

What do you want Jim?  Joan, I don't care just serve me some fish.  Joan smacked me on the back of head and told me to make a decision.  OK I'll have the lion fish, broiled.

A couple of hours later I got my seriously undercooked fish. Can you cook this for me?  I sent it back to a strange world.  I was the only unserved customer.  This can't take more than a few minutes in a preheated oven.

The sun set.  The world turned many degrees.  No sign of my fish  What the fuck?  I can go to another island    and havae a dish prepared.  Hell, I could go to Colon, call Tuti, buy some Mahi Mahi, go to the far end of Solarte, fire up the grill and cook it in less time than this. There was a distinct possibility that I could spearfish in the mangroves and get some snapper.

Finally, really damn hungry, I said, "I have to go." I left without waiting for the bill.  I love Joan and I know that employees here frequently disappoint.  Whatever.

Where to?  Oh, jesus, not the Aqua Lounge. Why?  Ohh you want to meet the head bitch?  Ok.  Loud music. Scores of honeys waiting to get picked up.  Heat.  Insufficient ventilation.  If I have to put with this you have to go to the restroom and take off your panties and hand them to mee.  The ultimatum was matched gallantly as she removed them right on the dance floor and handed them to me ceremoniously.  Ok, we are down to one slinky dress.  Things are looking better.

Ok, enough is enough, let's head out of here, go a mile off shore and you can dispose of that dress.  "You are bad, you are really bad."  "What the hell, did you think this was an invite to a chess match?"  We drifted for hours payimg no attention to our location.  "My daughter is probably seriously concerned.  I need to get back."  Ok.  Wait.  Where the fuck are we?   No, we can't go faster!  Get your hand off the throttle.  What?  A foot of water maybe?  We stopped in a fucking hurry.  She was knocked down but there was no damage to either person.  Ahh fuck, another prop shot.

Let me see, this tower, that tower, ok, here we go. back to Isla Colon. Oh man.  There is so much shallow water here.  Sand and sea grass but.  Wait!  I converted to a nominal 6.5 gallon tank.  A fillup doesn't carry me as far as it used to..... Shit.  Oh well, I have another ten gallons.  I'll just fill the tank.  Oh god, the flapper valve on the primer bulb is shot.  Screw it. We are less than a mile from shore.  I'll pull her in.  I'd rather do that than paddle.

"I can't let you do that by yourself!"   "Sure you can, just put your naked ass on this seat.  It won't take me too long.  Nope she was in the water, seriosly concerned that I was under the boat.  I swam. I tugged.  The tide was a bit suprising but the wind was nominal.    Just get your ass back in the boat.  Let me deal with it.  Oh shit.  You don't have the strength to lift your ass into the boat?  Jesus.  I've been working. Ok legs wrapped around my head as I am trying to figure out whether the hoisting is still my objective.  To shore.  I'll throw you over like a sack of potatoes. Nope. I should have done that in the shallows.  The physics just doesn't work here.

After numerous attempts at offering assistance the boat was finally pulled against the tide, through sandy shallows which caused far more exertion than the deep water and brought her to a hotel dock. Intermittently  I stumbled and fell, scraping  myself fairly on coral.

A pint of blood draining down one's body and drying on the legs looks pretty scary to couch potatoes.  I ignored it.  That is scratch.  As I was trying to escort this girl through town people thought I had major emergency.  It's just blood, I am on a street; it will be washed away in a few days.

I encountered a former room mate. A water taxi driver announced accross the street.  "I took your chicken home."  He gave me a quizzical look. "He means chick."

Man in his whitie tighties selling cigs at 4 in the morning.

The really hot blonde fucking the guy on the veranda at Heike while we sat on the benches and made commentaries.and watched.

Dawn.  Let's see, damn the gas dock is not opened.  Not a clue where the operator is.  Let's swing around this little island and see what damage we can cause.  "Jesus Jim how many times have I told you not do that? The fucking police were holding guns to my wife's head last night:"  You told me once and that was on a provision. I am extremely apologetic, sorry your night sucked.  We are getting our asses out of here.

Next stop? Isla Bastimentos

Walking all of Old Town on the west end.  Just greeting random people sitting on their porches, playing guitars, walkomg beneath the houses and play with the kids.

Roots.

Gave the old lady some abuse.  Sassed her.  Hugs every where.

????

That was interesting.  And what the hell were you thinking stepping down four feet accross a six foot span onto a moving boat?  Got your teeth, limb mobility, yup that's a fracture for sure.  To the floating doctors.

What the hell did you just do? You broke the vacuum on my water separator without asking me?  We are three miles from emergency treatment and you fuck with my fuel flow?  Could you help me by sticking a rusty screwdriver up my ass?  All right.  Pull the tank, blow into it, create some pressure to fill the separator. Let's get this thing primed.  Ok, the gas is going.  Off again, two miles to go. We arrived at the ship and presented our guest for attention.

The new doctor looked at the fracture, felt that a reduction was past his limits.  They felt an immediate need to deal with my laceration.They scrubbed it, washed it, applied iodine  Apparently large amounts of dried blood bothers these guys. "It's just a flesh wound"  Get that dressing off my leg.  I am not walking out of here looking like I stepped on a land mine, I have stepped in a pot of boiling water, broken all my ribs at least once, driven a car off a bridge, drove another one underneath an eighteen wheeler, I have been lacerated, pierced, stabbed, scraped, bruised, contused. I have been thrown off ATV's, jet skis, motor cycles, over the bow of a boat.  I heal very quickly.  Really bud, don't worry about it.  It will heal within a week.  Thanks.

Now where?  Rip Tide.  Then what. Oh man, do really want to chase some skirts right now?  I could use with just laying in a hammock.  Whatever, let's do it.