That's My Story

GOING NOWHERE FAST!

Published the week of July 30 in Western Outdoor News

We gringos are in such a hurry. Everything has to be FAST! We want to get down here to Baja as fast as we can on the fastest non-stop planes. Then… Into our hotels and onto our boats and out on the fishing grounds as soon and as fast as we can.

Even our other leisure activities, are fast! We invented “fast food” and live by the microwave even on vacations. We book waverunners and off-road vehicles and dance to FAST music in the nightclubs. Look out if our hotel does not have “high speed” internet.

And then there’s guys like Captain Manuel. Manuel is 45, but looks 55 with salt and peppered hair; calloused hands from years of fishing and skin weathered from more sun than any SPF could protect you from. The lines of his face are permanently creased from squinting without sunglasses into the glare of the Baja sun and the Cortez’ rippled waters for fish that will feed his family; please a fishing client; or draw the highest prices in the fish stalls at the mercado publico.

He doesn’t say much, but laughs a lot and most of the lines on his face are from smiling more often than not.

And today was one of those days when it was just him and me on the panga. Our mutual client begged off the day after his evening’s rendezvous with the three Mexicans of the apocalypse Don Julio, El Patron and Senor Cuervo. He was in no mood or condition to fish so I found myself guiding no one.

But the boat was paid for and it has been awhile since I had spent time with Manuel so off we went to go fishing…in a loose sort of way. There’s not a day that I don’t learn something new out on the water and today was no exception but it had nothing to do with fishing.

The season had already been long. Manuel was in no particular hurry to find fish and I didn’t particularly care either. I had lunches and drinks for two so like a couple of Baja Huck Finn’s we baited some hooks; tossed them overboard and let’ em soak. No pressure. No hurry. Lazy sunshine Baja day. The radio crackled with other pangas catching fish, with that inane captains chatter that on one understands, but so what? We lay back across the panga benches and tipped our hats over our eyes!

“So what do you think about the Patriots chances to get back to the Super Bowl?” he asked in Spanish after a prolonged silence of soaking sunshine.

“What? The Patriots? What do you know about American football?” I asked surprisedly taken off-guard. “I thought you all watch soccer!”

“Several of the captains now have satellite TV so we all watch sports. Mexico’s soccer team is terrible this year so we have started watching more American football and of course, there is always BASEBALL!” Manuel said with relish. “ Viva Los Yankees de Nueva York!”

I couldn’t help but smile. I’m thinking most of the captains have dirt and concrete floors with chickens running around, but they have a sat dish sticking onto a wall!

I laughed. “Ever been to the United States, Manuel?”

“Nunca” (never), he replied.

“Ever want to go to Disneyland or Hollywood? ( I thought everyone did!) “

“No.” He shrugged with a smile.

“Maybe Tijuana?” I continued

“No reason to.” He said stifling a siesta yawn.

“Cabo San Lucas? “(only 3 hours drive away). I queried.

“Maybe one time a year. But only if it’s absolutely necessary to visit my mother-in-law.” (Had to nod to that line of reasoning).

“Really? Not even Cabo? “

“For what?” Manny looked at me now with grinning cheeks. He knew where this was going.

“Well, how often do you go to La Paz? It’s only an hour away. For shopping? Entertainment? “

“Why? Maybe 4 times a year for a car part,” replied Manny now sitting up shrugging.

“Oye (Listen). “Everything I need is close to the pueblo. My home. My wife. My friends. We buy tortillas and some meat. We trade for cheese and vegetables at the ranchos (farms) for my fish I catch. I raised 3 grown children, thanks to God. All of them graduated from the university and I am very proud. One is a teacher. One works for a big shipping company. My youngest has just become a dentist. I have nietos (grand kids) and their parents bring them to see me and tell me stories of all the places they go and see. It is enough. I am content.”

He lay back down on the panga bench hat over eyes.

“And there is always satellite TV and that should be enough for any man,” said Manny from under his hat. “As long as los Yankees de Nueva York win…”

He pulled down his baseball hat over his eyes to doze.

Enough for any man.

I reached into my backpack and turned off the ringers for my two cell phones and my Blackberry and tilted my own straw hat over my eyes. Wouldn’t want to wake Manuel.

We drifted and swung in the current on the anchor chain. I don’t even think I had bait on my hook and didn’t care. Going nowhere fast in the Baja. And the sun felt good.

That’s my story. If you ever want to reach me, my e-mail is riplipboy@aol.com.