The last 2 chapters are on the previous board page.
I hope you enjoyed it.
Hugs,
M
PART 3
I was convinced I needed to go on the seventh wave and was
just making my move, when a side swell came in out of
nowhere. It rose a good four feet combined with the regular
set and the wave broke seriously. Oh…this was not good at all.
So, we had sneaker waves to deal with. I pulled back again
and circled, counting, then counting again. Occasionally, side
waves came in but they had no rhythm or reason and I couldn’t
get a fix on them. Or, I was just too stupid to do the math. I
circled for another 20 minutes, glanced up to my watchers,
gave them a wave and a stupid “no problem” grin and gunned
my little Tohatsu to catch that wave that should carry me in.
I thought I was really making progress and the two large rocks
were coming up fast, I reached back to flip the lever that would
raise my motor, but suddenly I dropped, like an elevator and I
could feel the rocks on the bottom of the boat. From the corner
of my eye I saw light change, and turning my head, I came face
to face with a wall of water. In slow motion, the lip of the wave
curled and my seat was going up sideways as my little boat
was sucked into it’s grip. What happened in an instant took
forever in my mind and I watched in detail as the wave broke
into my boat. The camera, radio and book were sucked out the
other side, and I was neatly flipped upside down under the
boat and onto the rocks. Cruel, slimy rocks. I felt no pain, but
shock from the cold water. I was aware of my boat being
tossed over me and prayed that the dead man switch on my
motor worked. I always tied it to my ankle, but we rolled
together and I wasn’t sure if it pulled the kill button. Time
slowed down so much I had time to think about what a prop
could do to me and I would never feel a thing.
We rolled for what seemed an eternity and finally, I came to
rest on the rocks. My boat was on it’s way out, and I didn’t
care a lick. I was totally naked.
Soaked with water, that one piece Terri cloth outfit slipped off
neatly. I didn’t take the time to take stock of my injuries, just
struggled and slipped over rocks until I could get up onto the
sand. I didn’t dare look up to the witnesses on the cliffs,
instead I pictured in my mind them rolling on the ground,
wetting themselves with their mirth. I did a quick look over of
my extremities and was at least satisfied I had all my parts, at
least they were all there to see. For EVERYBODY to see. I was
a little bloodied perhaps, but intact none the less. I ran over to
Grunt, and flung myself at the door. Locked. I had a key under
the plate that I could remove with a dime, but I didn’t seem to
have one at the moment. gosh darnN IT! I was frantic and tore
at every door and window, my last hope, was cracked. A wind
wing. I left it open to flick my ashes. This is an odd twist that
smoking should ever do anything GOOD for me. I pushed it
open and strained for the lock. No good, I could reach it but
just not enough to flick it up. I looked around, bawling in my
frustration. On the ground I spotted a piece of metal. Just the
right size and strength. I pushed it in and voila’, I was in. Grunt
was gloriously warm from the sun, and it felt fabulous! No time
to enjoy, it was business time now. I threw on a pair of shorts
and a sweat-shirt. I found one tennis shoe, couldn’t find the
other. Hell with it, with one foot shod, I headed back to the
water to see what remained. My little tinker toy was upside
down, prop in the air, riding in ,going out, riding in, soon, it may
go out for good, so I ran back to Grunt for a rope. I waded in
and slid over those nasty rocks until I could get a grip on the
bow. Lifting, I dragged her in a little bit, but that motor had to
go. I tied a rope to the center seat of by boat and ran back up
and attached it to Grunt’s bumper.
Returning, I was able to reach under and unscrew the motor
mounts. My Tahatsu clattered onto the rocks, and I was sure
this little escapade was going to be fatal for my little motor. I
was exhausted and the motor was a good 75lbs. I considered
leaving it, but hey, it had less than a hundred hours on it. I
reached down, and hoisted her up. If adrenaline failed me now
I would be a goner. I slipped and crashed a number of times
adding injury to my already torn body before I finally dropped it
onto the sand. I looked back out to my boat and doubted I
could carry her in. Whatever the damage, I had one option. I
walked back to Grunt, started my engine and backed her up.
Slowly, my little boat moved forward but, caught on a rock, it
would go no farther. CRAP! Out of the van, I stalked back down
to the water and began once again a perilous journey over
those nasty rocks. I looked up and there were still six eyes
watching. Good lord this must be a good show for them not to
be doing SOMETHING.
I grabbed the back of my Porta and noticed that my
transponder was still sucked onto my stabilizer, I followed the
wire and found the end. Nothing. I wanted a new fish finder
anyway. I flipped the boat over and headed back to Grunt.
Once again we moved backwards until Porta rested on the
sand next to my motor. And there they sat. I never even
looked for my poles or other gear. Didn’t care, just wanted to
pile into my eggcrate mattress and soak up the heat inside my
van. I was too humiliated to think of finding help, or speaking
to those that witnessed such a spectacle. I laid there and
imagined, they might be just as embarrassed…but more likely
amused. I wanted to get out of there before the story got out,
as it surely would, but before I could move, I fell into a deep
sleep.
Again I woke to children’s voices. I glanced at my window and
noticed something leaning against my windows…..poles? MY
poles? I shook myself awake and cracked the side door. On the
ground were my camera and radio. A total loss, but there none
the less. I was more bothered that I wouldn’t know the ending
of my Koontz novel. I looked up to see the smallest of the 2
boys I saw the day before shyly coming towards me. He
handed me my glasses and ran back towards the rocks.
No doubt word was out and I only wanted out of there. I
closed up Grunt and watched the scene through my limo
windows. The children went back to gathering snails, but
where was my boat? My motor???
I dove to the front window and looked out. In front of Grunt,
my boat was folded up, seats stacked next to it. My motor was
propped up onto rocks to keep it out of the sand. Someone
had wiped it down. My gas can and broken fuel line sat beside
all.
Bruised, covered with dry blood and a hairstyle that must have
looked just fabulous, I left Grunt once again to look for my
helpers. Only the kids were there, but at the top of the cliff I
saw the father. I waved and he waved back. I thought he
might come down, but he never did. When the kids started to
leave, I gave each one a twenty. I was crying like a fool and I
think I scared them.
I loaded Grunt as quick as I could. I was feeling every bruise
and ache and I started hacking again. No doubt I would totally
relapse with Pneumonia. So, until then, I lit a cigarette and
worked on cleaning myself up. Finally alone, I went behind
Grunt, undressed and poured the last of the water into a
bucket, it was still warm from the day and I felt a bit better
after washing the owies.I poured the rest over my salty head.
I was ready to go. I maneuvered Grunt around and drove up
the hill and out onto the highway. On my way towards the
border, I ran stories and excuses over in my head. None were
any good. I was an idiot, I should have never left being so sick.
I should have looked at my tide chart, I should never have
fallen asleep. I continued to beat myself up, and it seemed
proper that I should be so miserable. I had no choice but to
listen to whatever tirade was coming from my family and
friends. I deserved it. As a matter of fact, if Hare Krishna’s came
to my door to deliver their spiel, I would probably just stand
there and listen to them, such was my self punishment.
I made it across the border with some curious looks from the
border guys, but they let me through. I was in a daze, and
Grunt was on auto pilot. When I came out of it, I was home.
I did indeed get all that I deserved. My mother was merciless.
My body hurt everywhere. I looked like I had been beaten and
was too embarrassed to go out of my home. My cats were
indifferent, thankless beasts.
In three weeks time, I was crossing the border line again, my
mishaps a distant memory… Until now.
Fini.
MMarie-Rose - 9-10-2006 at 07:37 PM
I read this last time you posted it on the board and it is just as great as the first time!
Thanks you!!!!AmoPescar - 9-10-2006 at 09:35 PM
M...OH MY GOSH....!!!!!
I think I now have a hernia from ROTFLMAO!!!!
I had heard of your mishap, but had never read the story until now. I'm sorry to make fun of you, but that was such a funny story. Knowing you and
how great you are at being a Baja traveler some how makes it even funnier. I know the terry outfit you described. I have a cousin in Illinois who
wears them ALL the time, they're her favorite things!
Say hello to BHL for me.
AmoBajaBruno - 9-10-2006 at 09:43 PM
Gawd, what a great story! What a great woman! All the best to you, and thanks for sharing.Bedman - 9-11-2006 at 12:12 AM
Giggling, snorting, coffee running out of my nose and I still love that story and you.
As always,
SteveSkipjack Joe - 9-11-2006 at 09:50 AM
Marvelous story. A very masculine adventure actually, except for the pink fishing pole. Well written. One of my favorite lines:
"My cats were indifferent, thankless beasts."
At a time when you needed sympathy you got none from them.
I hope you write more. I really enjoyed that.
Oh, and one other thing. I don't think of it as an unfortunate misadventure. Adventures like that are the highlights of my baja experiences and I
wouldn't trade them for anything.Cincodemayo - 9-11-2006 at 10:14 AM
Another Laguna inhabitant....Awesome story!!FARASHA - 9-11-2006 at 01:23 PM
What a story!! And I have to admit, that I was checking every so often the board, to get the next chapter to read.
And I think that you mastered the situation with bravery, after all. Keep going!!!
Photos??? Illustrations??
thebajarunner - 9-11-2006 at 05:43 PM
Shoot, just found out that Bernie's new book (Our new book) has no pictures,
Now it appears that this story also has none.
What gives???
We demand photographic proof!
I understand
baitcast - 9-12-2006 at 08:09 AM
Owning one of these little boats does take some getting use to.
Having owned one for several years I,ve had some interesting experiences myself,take three years ago while down at Loreto,fishing
Carmen,with a long time friend who had never been south of the border and had fished fresh water all his life.
We were between Carmen and Danzante,it was hot and things had slowed down not havng anything else better to do I dropped a jig down very
deep and nearly fell asleep from boredom when I hooked this thing.
After a good tussle this thing appeared along side the boat,I,ve eaten squid,used them for bait,and eaten them,but have never
seen one so huge
What to do? he had my 6$ jig so I was not going to let him have it,eye-ball to eye-ball with this nightmare.
Dave took things into his hands and grabbed the thing,first thing you know its in the boat with us.
Consider this two grown men five or six fishing poles,tackle boxes,life jackets and one huge very upset squid.
It didn,t Dave very long to find out he was over-matched,and started yelling get this #$%^ off me.
Wish I had a video of the whole thing,so funny
BAITCAST
I,ve always felt these little boats were ok for the east side,inshore stuff but the west you could get into trouble.David K - 9-12-2006 at 09:39 AM
Quote:
Originally posted by thebajarunner
Shoot, just found out that Bernie's new book (Our new book) has no pictures,
Now it appears that this story also has none.
What gives???
We demand photographic proof!
Here is M's folding boat... and the red haired Englishman trying to put it together, you already know!
My book does have a picture and many illustrations--You just upset because I didn't put your mug in it.
With all of the operations and all of the steel that put in M since her boat 'ride' I fear she just might sink and then rust.
[Edited on 9-12-2006 by Baja Bernie]M - 9-14-2006 at 03:22 PM
Thank all of you. I have taken each message to memory and heart. Gracias.
MCypress - 9-14-2006 at 03:52 PM
An exciting adventure! Thanks for sharing.Skipjack Joe - 9-14-2006 at 11:29 PM
Every time I see this thread I keep thinking of:
The Porta Potty Story.
Sick mind, I guess.FARASHA - 9-15-2006 at 03:12 AM
Don't think of it as a sick mind - it's called a Freudian Slip, and it entered my mind too, at first glance on the thread starting.
And that you got a humorous mind, that likes playing with words, as most people would - but not admitting it!Neal Johns - 9-15-2006 at 04:40 AM
M, I must have been on a trip when this was first published; thanks so much for running it again. My stomach muscles are sore from laughing. No need
to post any pictures, I have my imagination well tuned.Santiago - 9-15-2006 at 04:20 PM
Quote:
Originally posted by Neal Johns
M, I must have been on a trip when this was first published; thanks so much for running it again.
Geeze Neal - most of us had the good sense to stop doing that in the 60's.......Neal Johns - 9-15-2006 at 06:38 PM
Santiago, I wish!
I grew up in the wrong time period, no fun at all.
I was a Chief in the Navy and didn't drink, even coffee! And of course, no cancer sticks.
Somehow I missed out on free sex.
I don't know where I went wrong and now it's too late. Well, maybe coffee.
here's a pic..."M"
Bedman - 9-16-2006 at 12:12 AM
Neal Johns - 9-16-2006 at 06:57 AM
Left or Right, Bedman?M - 9-16-2006 at 09:51 AM
BEDMAN! You know I kiss asss all the time.
TOO funny!
MBedman - 9-16-2006 at 03:26 PM
Hehehehehe........... I couldn't resist!!
Kisses,
BedmanSantiago - 9-16-2006 at 07:56 PM
Jeans: don't worry, though I was a little tempted.......Neal Johns - 9-18-2006 at 06:54 AM
Me too, Santiago!
All right boys...
M - 9-18-2006 at 11:48 AM
I know EXACTLY what you two are up to regarding Jeans. I'm warning you both....her wrath would be FEARSOME!!
Believe me, LOLOLOL.
MCypress - 9-18-2006 at 12:12 PM
Mercy!! Looks like she/he might bite. Know there's a kick or two loaded up and
ready to deliver. Somebody better be careful when dealing with this animal. A mule will be behaved for ten years just to get a chance to kick you one
time.
Santiago......
jeans - 9-18-2006 at 04:02 PM
Everybody here in Starbucks is staring at me wondering what is so damn funny.....
Are you still coming by tomorrow night? I don't have your E mail addy, & your cell phone I have is old. I did leave a message at your home but
don't know if your travlin and missed it..
My computer crashed couple months ago and I lost most of my contacts.
E me at writeme1@cox.net so I can put you on my contact list again.
Hugs,
M
