Baja Bernie - 1-18-2007 at 07:49 PM
A little early this week but I do have a few things to do so I thought I would get this out of the way.............................
Here are a bunch of little things that may give you a better taste for the flavor of early life in La Salina del Mar.
Oso Negro Vodka came in Gallon jugs only—at least that is what we all thought for years. At $3.95 a bottle it was the cheapest booze around. It also
had a good kick. The glass bottle came with a Black Bear on a key chain. A couple of the early houses had privacy screens 10 feet high by 10 feet
wide entirely made of “Oso Negro” key chains. The bottles were great for storing kerosene. You took an empty bottle to a Mercado and filled it with
‘kerosen.’ You would find a faucet somewhere on the back wall of the store. There were no signs you just knew that you could fill your bottle by
just opening the faucet—sure! Put the bottle under it first. It usually cost about 15 cents for a gallon and this usually kept the Hurricane Lanterns
going for a month or two. You had to make sure not to confuse the bottles because kerosene was a real no-no to drink!
Las Palmas Rum bottles—one-gallon size—came encased around the bottom with a real woven straw basket. They were very decorative as candleholders.
The rum was good but not quite as cheap as the Oso Negro vodka. You never used the Las Palmas bottles to store kerosene because it was almost the
same color as the rum! It’s funny but when they replaced the straw basket with a ‘plastic’ one people quit buying the stuff. Artistic?—Who knows!
In the late 1960’s it was not unusual for a guy named ‘Blackie’ to land his airplane on the unfinished Toll Road and taxi it up to the Cantina. He
would stop the plane just in front of the old hitching post, shut her down, and wander in and have a few drinks before he heading south to San Quintin
to go fishing. I don’t know what kind of a plane it was but it had a high wing, extra large tires, and was painted blue and yellow. Once the Toll
Road was opened he quit dropping in for a drink.
Perhaps you’ve noticed the Airplane Propeller mounted on the wall in the Cantina. If you did you also noticed that both tips of the ‘prop’ were badly
bent. This was from the plane of another guy, his name is lost to history, who used to land and take off from the beach in front of the Cantina. His
plane also had a high, wide wing, an open c-ckpit, and was painted a dull rusty red. It had large wide tires for sand landings.
He used to spend the afternoons drinking and if he found an attractive looking woman who wanted to “go hide in the clouds” he would load her in his
plane and roar off into the blue. Once, on landing he bent the propeller when his plane nosed over on hitting a soft patch of sand. Undaunted, he
hired a young Mexican kid to baby sit his wounded plane and took off, in a bus, for San Diego to get a ‘new prop’.
He came back on Monday, replaced the propeller and took off. We never saw him again but he did leave the ‘bent prop’ for us to remember him by.
Early on, one of the ways we would while away a quiet morning was by attempting to make an “old Servel Gas Refrigerator” work. It usually turned out
that a ‘gas spider’ had built a nest in the gas orifice in such a manner as to stop the flow of the propane. These Servels were a throwback to the
1930-40’s and were used all over the States where electricity was not available. Most of them found their way into Mexico and some are still in use
where electric juice is still not to be had. Getting one of these to run again normally involved a tire pump, some thin wire, a brush, a lot of beer,
and a few camp ‘experts.’ I never could understand how you could use propane and heat to make something get “cold.” If you find one in running order
grab it—they are now worth six to eight hundred dollars apiece. (I see where Bedman is looking for one as I post this story)
One of the ladies in camp looking for a propane gas leak with a cigarette lighter. Definitely not smart.
June 1981 electricity came to camp. Most people were happy because now they could do away with those ‘unsightly’ gravity flow water tanks. There was
a problem when the electricity went out and you couldn’t pump your water out of the pilla and into your toilet! You could always depend on gravity!!
With the advent of electricity the management at the Cantina encountered a major problem. David, Ramon, and all of bartenders refused to use a
“blender” to mix drinks. They had learned how to make the “Best Margaritas in Baja” by Agitar de Lata or shake the can. Just picture it, first the
ice, then the lime, the mix and a generous pour of Tequila. Now put the lid on the can AND shake it over the right shoulder, then next to the left
ear, up and down from right to left, then slowly (as if listening to it) next to the right ear—then slowly, ever so slowly pour it into a glass with
the rim encrusted with salt. An art form suddenly threatened by electricity; a ritual of the ages gone in the name of progress. Mixed in the blender
it became frothy—more feminine—it had no soul! You people don’t even know that you are drinking an inferior product. Ramon knows and secretly in his
Mexican heart he hates it!!
It was crazy, but up until the mid to late 80’s Ramon or David would knock on your door and ask if they could ‘borrow’ a bottle. Whatever you had.
Vodka-why not, bourbon-ok, tequila-fine, rum-sure! They would borrow, for the Cantina, whatever you had to lend. The nutty thing was that you would
then wander up to the Cantina and ‘buy’ a few drinks.
Does that make sense? Not really, but you forgot the fellowship of drinking with your friends---or friends that you might meet. Forget the fact that
you were paying four (or was it six) times the original cost of ‘your’ booze.
Who knows, they may even return the bottle next week—but don’t count on it. Just enjoy the feeling of the weight of civilization flowing away and
leaving a little “tranquilidad” in your heart and your very being.
Oh! Yea! Way back, so the story goes, in the late 1930’s and early 40’s a Japanese farmer raised strawberries in La Salina. All of the Mexicans
‘knew’ that he was a spy because they saw him watching all of the ships going by. To this day, if you talk to some of the real old timers, they will
swear that he was a spy. They will also tell you that an “American Artillery Unit,” complete with searchlights, was stationed on the cliffs around
what is now Baja Mar Golf Course. (In my new book, Think you Know Baja, I was able to prove that both of these stories were true).
Streetlights came to our camp in 1985. Lu Ann Swaim was the main force behind this “progress.” I fought tooth and nail but to no avail. We lost the
moon and the stars and we can no longer see the phosphorescence in the crown of the waves as they surge against the shore under the light of the
wonderful Mexican Moon. Sure, security is enhanced but at what cost! What have we lost and what have we gained?
NADA, it is such a small word only four letters, but if you say it with meaning it will open the hearts of most Mexicans—it means “thank you” or “it
is nothing”—it is best used when someone thanks you for something—to respond with “de Nada” releases the receiver of any sense of owing. That is a
wonderful thing to do, say, and mean. de Nada—it rolls so smoothly off the tongue.
Crossing the border and feeling all of your burdens falling away. Replaced by an inner peace that seems impossible to attain in the States.
Meeting a total stranger while walking on the beach and after a few minutes of conversation feeling like you have been friends for years.
Barney Karger, the President of the Corporation, telling David Medina, the manager of the Cantina, that he insisted upon ‘receipts’ for all of the
mordida (a little bite) he paid to people in Enseneda. Believe it! He wanted them to sign for the bribes they were taking. David almost went nuts
over that one.
The three musketeers wandering down the main drag shortly after dark. When asked why they were calling it a night so early, Darlene, stumbling into a
soft shoe dance, replied, “Boy, what a boring, I mean really boring Saturday night at the Cantina.” To which Bill replied, “Sure, right, no wonder
you’re bored, It’s SUNDAY.” Linda broke up laughing and muttered something about, “What an Idiot!
YEE HAWWwww......
Bedman - 1-19-2007 at 01:53 AM
Booze, Broads, Planes, Tinkering, More Booze, Friends, Spies and Mordida!!
What more could you ask for in a story???? Nada.....
Bravo and Muchisma Gracias Don Bernie
Bedman
FARASHA - 1-19-2007 at 02:42 AM
Thanks again Bernie! Gives me a picture of these long gone times! >f<
JESSE - 1-19-2007 at 02:59 AM
Bernie,
You have an open invitation to come to La Paz, it would be interesting to exchange old americanos and new mexicanos stories with you.
Jesse
Baja Bernie - 1-21-2007 at 11:55 AM
Perhap, one day, we can get together and work on your wine list together. Know nothing about wines but the shared stories should be fun!
Iflyfish - 1-22-2007 at 08:49 AM
Put me right into the time and place. Thank you so much.
Iflyfish
DENNIS - 1-22-2007 at 01:15 PM
Ah, Bernie ----------
Thanks again. I dont know what it is but, you're stories always seem to have a first time quality to them. I've read them, time and again but, with
each successive reading, they take on a new meaning. Same story, different campfire, if you know what I mean.
I'm sure a heavy dose of CRS sustains the quality of your stories but, we dont need to talk about that.
Keep'm coming, Bernie. Yours is my favorite thread.
Dennis
Baja Bernie - 1-22-2007 at 07:00 PM
That means a whole lot to me. Thanks