Lyric of the Day
You got to know when to hold em'...
...know when to fold em'...
Kenny Rodgers, The Gambler
My mother will be happy to hear that I turned around near central Columbia and, 240 ship-dodgingly bluewater miles later, am back in Playa Venao, Panama.
Columbia was a mixed bag and it foreshadowed what would come as Tu Laki and I progressed deeper into South America. Piracy wasn't a real fear but consistent headwinds and battling currents took away what little fun there is in long distance, small-boat sailing.
Also, and more importantly, there were no waves and it turns out surfing is my newest addiction.
Also, and more importantly, there were no waves and it turns out surfing is my newest addiction.
My sails are totally shot (think of billowing bedsheets) to the extent where Sin Fin can barely make any headway upwind. Factor an oppositional current in and sailing backwards became the reality... as such, the only way to make progress was to run the motor... something I hate doing.
I refuse to motor my way to Chile (and I can't afford to do so either) so the new plan is surfing my face off in Panama, Costa Rica, and southern Nicaragua over the next couple months.
I'm hoping to haul the boat out in San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua where I can drydock it for a mere $3 daily.
Then I'm gonna fix it up as best I can on $0 and put it up for sale. If it doesn't sell I'll return with new sails after a winter of skiing (and, unfortunately working) in the J Hole.
In short, I've given up and am a loser.
But if giving up means further exploration of the surf in Central America, I'm already over it.
And if being a loser means being broke and dreamless, may I remind you that at a mere 28 years of age I freely and clearly own my own home... and it floats.
The tears have been shed and the waves are calling right now...
Partially released from delusion,
MAX
Then I'm gonna fix it up as best I can on $0 and put it up for sale. If it doesn't sell I'll return with new sails after a winter of skiing (and, unfortunately working) in the J Hole.
In short, I've given up and am a loser.
But if giving up means further exploration of the surf in Central America, I'm already over it.
And if being a loser means being broke and dreamless, may I remind you that at a mere 28 years of age I freely and clearly own my own home... and it floats.
The tears have been shed and the waves are calling right now...
Partially released from delusion,
MAX
