8.12.2009

Countin' Stacks

Lyric of the Day

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Minnesota's own Atmosphere, In My Continental

Freedom is a word not heard from those that own it

Can't fix the machine if you don't have the components
(And I'll be)

In my Continental
Splintered off the mental
When you want the best you´ll
Never accept anything less
Elements of purpose
True love from the first kiss
Spread it on the surface
Sit back and watch the progress

Cause we're not from this planet
We come from somewhere else
And you can't understand it
Cause you don't know yourself
But when the time is right
Our path will be unveiled
Till then you seek your light
While I sit and bite my nails

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Today it is hot, hot, hot in Tamarindo but I caught the third best wave of my life this morning, so I'm content to lounge in a shady, breezy hammock for the afternoon... thinking of book titles between naps.

Also adding to contentment is having the most financially lucrative day of the entire trip yesterday. I made $160 off a charter and another $20 from a daring pre-order of the yet to be written book by none other than Kyle Casper, a good friend and fellow Cotter RAMBLER.

In fact, yesterday I doubled my liquid net worth despite the economic crisis... and for the next week I´m paid in the shade... it´s not bartending money, but it´s a start.

I´ve got some retired brits interested in looking at the boat, some sailing lessons, and even a potential boat delivery from California to here... aka a paid surf trip. This pleases me.

Noone is too interested in buying the boat at the moment but I´ve got no rush to sell it, apparently. I thought I did, but I was wrong.

The characters are coming out of the woodwork these days so I can´t help but feel like the trip is gearing up again for a big development... perhaps a big positive turn of events... perhaps steep fines and deportation from Costa Rica... who knows... the nearer your destination the more you're slip sliding away, ya know?!

I can already sense the growing hostility from a few other sailboat charter businesses of actual legality opposed to doubtlessly illegal competitor encroachment.

My kneejerk response to these inevitable confrontations is pretty basic:

¨I gotta eat too, amigo.¨

and if they push it I feign my craziest:

¨Bad karma sinks boats... ya feel me?!¨

Back to the characters... yesterday´s charter included a mixed bag...

1. Burned out banker from Miami heading for a ladyfriend in Peru.
2. His buddy, also from Miami, a thinly disguised adult filmmaker.
(The made special business cards and tshirts for their Central America trip... LPH, INT... aka Latina Pussy Hunters... yes, they gave me a t-shirt... no, I´m not planning any future work with them.)
3. All together with it female shepherd and organic gardener from Maryland.
4. Heavily tattooed former latino gangbanger turned PHD in PHILOSOPHY and PHILOSOPHY PROFESSOR at University in San Fran. He also runs a non-profit that teaches little thugs to surf in hopes it helps them turn it around. His tats are scary. He´s solid.
5. His buddy, a NAVY SEAL, who looks like SUPERMAN and is equally solid.
6. His other buddy, the classic table waiting Santa Barbara surf bum and equally solid.
7. Me... 70% water, 30% solid... more fluid by the day.
8. Maestra... who decided to rule the beach yesterday, scored a tuft of cat hair, stole food off of tables, herded toddlers, and otherwise acted completely out of character.

Amazingly, everyone had such a good time I got not only paid but tipped. This was the first time I´ve been tipped on the trip as well. I can´t fathom why it took so long... too much doom and gloom squeezed into my previous charter conversations, I guess... this crew was so interesting I couldn´t even wind up a rant...

REFRESHING.

The waves have been great. Also, I´ve been enjoying exploring all the surf potential around Tamarindo and the anchorage is solid... rarely is the weather near as bad as other parts of CR. Folks rag on Tamarindo but I don´t see where the hatred comes from. I´m enjoying myself.

So maybe the boat won´t sell at all... and maybe I´ll gather the gumption and fundage to turn back south.

I did pledge myself I´d never fly anywhere again... and the shock of reintegrating the American Nightmare into my psyche would throttle me. Then again, if the boat sells, the dog and I could always pick up something like this...


... or do a little hitching... or score an outrigger kayak and use kites and paddles and whatnot to really get out in the ocean on it´s terms... I´m open to suggestions.

One thing´s for certain, the trip is back in control as decisionmaking is no longer by committee... nor really factoring into much of the day to day... you know.

GO WITH THE FLOW.

Max