LOGAN AT SEA 3 - bonus round

DAY 4

As we set out for open water, the captain related some of the 'business practices' of the other boats:

Buy nothing but cheap food.  Yes, sometimes everyone gets sick.  They don't buy food from the locals as it decreases their profit margins.

Nobody is allowed out on deck for 'safety reasons'.  I've got to tell you there are many times when you 'need some air'.  I can't imagine being cooped up in overcrowded cabins or a wheelhouse.

Double or more the amount of people on board the ship we had.  Believe me, sometimes it felt a bit crowded with just the six people we had on board.  More would feel like the old 'tight pack slave ship'.

Not that I spent a lot of time on these or had shares in 'Confederated Slaveholdings' like some people I could mention.

Other than that, day 4 went quietly.  Nothing much to look at unless you are into the whole 'endless ocean' thing.  I find it loses it's appeal after about two and a half minutes.  Ditto for 'gosh there are a lot of stars out at night'.



DAY 5

Spent most of the day in bed, 'relaxing'.

Life aboard a boat, I've determined is a lot like a bratwurst cooked to perfection and garnished with spices both subtle and rare.  Stuffed inside a VW sized bun of boredom.

The end of the day showed us to still be 100 miles from our destination.  Why they use miles is beyond me.  The reason we were so far away and should have docked today?  Becalmed.  Were it not for our little engines we wouldn't have moved anywhere.

We did finally break out the 'Cards Against Humanity' photocopy game I was given.  Thanks!  It's amazing how 'America-centric' the humor is.  I got to translate a few fun words into German or explain them to the Swiss guys.  A good time was had by all.

Note that if you are going to be at sea, bring a lot of little games to play and hopefully have people around who want to play them or you're kind of fucked.  "Oh, I'll read a book!"  Yes, if you are blessed with the weather we had you can.  If not, have fun trying to stare at a page while feeling miserable while Mother Nature tries to bump you off.



DAY 6

The captain informs me he is 'putting on the breaks' so that we arrive tomorrow morning rather than tonight.  Since by now sinking the ship is getting more and more interesting over continuing to live on it, this news doesn't make me a happy boy.

His reasons for arriving in port do seem sound (less parking problems, less getting run over by other bigger boats since we have all the running lights of the average drug smuggler) but that day being Sunday does concern me.  Will they actually be open to give us our visas?  [Fuck no was the answer for those who are sick of all of the suspense.  And, no reach around.  In addition, they were closed the next day for a public holiday.  Yes to the 'laid back lifestyle'!]

Again, bored out of my fucking skull.  [See "Logan's Head" below for yet more information about Logan's skull.]

Just for the record, you can NOT swim safely in the high seas if you are Logan.  Perhaps if you are other people.  And you can't swim while the boat is churning away going somewhere.  Well, actually, you can swim.  But getting back onto the boat is not certain.


By day six, everyone - and their stomachs - had become accustomed to the relentless rocking of the boat.  I'd heard that a lot of people who claim "I'm seasick all the time" simply are speaking from short experience.  If you spend a week on a boat, you cease to be seasick.  That, or all of these people with seasickness and motion sickness just need to 'harden the fuck up'.


The captain talked about a bit of the business behind the ships.  Some of the hostels (like the horrible Hostel Wunderbar) actually make more money booking the ship rides than having guests.  If you're paying $550 USD (as I did), the hostel gets $50 for sending a couple e-mails.  If you contact the captains directly you could save fifty or more dollars.  Of course knowing who to contact could be rough.  I only know one of the captains and that is Bernard.  In addition to his linked Facebook page, he can be reached through his e-mail at IEMANJA57@yahoo.fr.  Fair warning - he doesn't really understand computers.  The unkind of you (my friends, mainly) may well point out Logan doesn't understand computers either.  He understands significantly less than even Logan.  So, show some patience when contacting him.  He knows boats much better.


The chicken had all turned green and needed to be thrown overboard.  Bernard explained that in Central America the food may only have a day or two left from when you bought it before it goes totally bad.  They routinely let stuff thaw and refreeze it several times due to either inadequate cooling equipment or gross incompetency.  So keep an eye on your food.  Just because you bought it from a reputable looking super market doesn't mean it isn't wonky.



DAY 7

At about 6AM our boat truged toward port.  The process of getting into port and finding a parking space (trickier with a boat) takes about four or five hours.  Nothing is fast on a boat.

As we were heading in to the harbor, we noticed it was flanked by two old fortresses.  The captain said that in the olden days they use to stretch an iron chain between the two to keep out pirates.

I asked if it worked.  This is never a convenient question to ask someone as they never know.

Apparently, they took the chain down as there is a large pirate ship that routinely makes its way back and forth ferrying tourists with it's big diesel engines.

After spending an hour or two cooling our heels in the dock aboard ship, the captain rented us a 'water taxi' which I christened the "Oh gods oh gods we're all going to die".  It was actually a dug out fishing canoe and the most unstable craft I've been in and survived.  [For a list of craft I have been in and didn't survive, please reference previous blog entries.  All of them.]

The captain took everyone to a hostel (in Cartagena, Colombia) which cost 22,000 COP per night.  I said "Fuck that" and went and found a private room which cost 24,000 COP.  About a dollar more per night.


And that concludes my exciting (well, hopefully more to read about than experience) voyage at sea!  As you can see, the five day voyage actually took seven and overall was a mix of interesting bits and a huge boring base.  I can now say that I've traveled in a very small vessel on the open sea however.  Not planning on a repeat performance but my life is very strange so I can't say "It will never happen" with any finality.



LOGAN'S HEAD

Like many other places (including the Republic of Georgia) boats were constructed for shorter people than I.  The top of my skull has yet another new scar.  I'm sure that should a futuristic anthropologist discovering my skull would classify it as several different unsuccessful attempts at trepanning.

Hell, this has happened so many times I really feel I should get a t-shirt.  Preferably free.  And in XXXL size.  Air dropped to me by the Marines.

LOGAN AT SEA 2

NATURE TRIES TO OFF LOGAN

DAY 3

You feel pretty continuously grungy on a boat.  Salt, not washing, washing with a very limited amount of fresh water only and so on.

It was time for me to get a bath.  In my underwear and standing on the back of the boat I soaped up then jumped into the water for a bit of exercise.  Paddle around within a meter of the boat ladder.

Ever watch a cute kid walking around with that kind of 'spaced out wonder' that sends you back to thinking of your childhood?  And as he's walking past you in the park he just wallops hell out of your groin with his metal Tonka truck he was carrying?  Having nature try to kill you suddenly and unexpectedly is a lot like that.

Surprise and pain.

So I was floundering around in the water and the weather came up.  Very suddenly.  The tide swept me away from the boat - fortunately toward the shore.  Mind you, it doesn't take a lot of current to prevent me from swimming the direction I want to go.

I yelled to the captain who encouraged me to swim toward the boat until he saw I couldn't make it.  Then, he told me to swim to shore.  Hell, I didn't think I could make that either.

Eventually, I swam the short distance to shore and waited for several minutes as Bernard secured the boat.  The boat is always the first concern in such cases.

Eventually, he came and got my exhausted ass in the dingy.

Scary as hell being stuck on an island in your underwear.



QUINN

To avoid sunburn I could feel starting, the shirt came back on but not the pants.  Since my 'operation shorts' had been destroyed, I emulated one of my role models 'Quinn the Pantless' (NERO reference) and only wore underwear from the time of my near drowning until we docked.

Though it made me feel a bit sorry for everyone else.

Not sorry enough to put on my damned pants, however.



LITTLE KUNA ISLAND

Remember the Kuna from before?  Well, they seem to own (ie were granted by and subsidized) all the islands in the area.  They have a set of 'vacation home' islands as well.  They aren't particularly nice - they are smaller than the island shown in 'Castaway' and have a hut on them.  The Kuna wait something like five years to be able to take their turn to go stay there.

The reason this is a 'super special' thing for them is that tourist boats pass by and often stop at the islands.

Yes, it's a chance to make some money.

So we anchored near one and the captain was telling us we could go hang out on the island.  I'm pondering buying some overpriced ($2) beers and chilling on land to drink them.

Like many islands, it looked much better from a distance than up close.  The palm trees surrounded what looked to be a charming little hut.  When you got closer, it appeared to be a disease ridden shack you'd want to torch rather than live in - as do many of the Kuna homes.

The old guy whose temporarily in charge wants $2 per person just to be on his island.

What the fuck.

The others and I seem to be in agreement and we're back on the boat.

Something disappointing about poor tribesmen just with their handout as opposed to doing some sort of rudimentary business that would net them more money.

I must confess that I did take this picture of his island then yell "I've gotten a picture of your island for free!  HA!" or something along those lines.



MORE ON THE KUNA

I did forget to mention that the Kuna can be distinguished by their shins and forearms quite easily.  In their culture, having thin shins and forearms is considered attractive.   Like a fat girl who buys new shoes to be pretty instead of just dropping 20 KG, they tightly wrap multicolored bands of thread around their forearms and shins to keep them thin.  I've no idea if it's unhealthy or not but didn't much care either.


In addition to wanting to charge people for setting foot on tiny islands, the Kuna do come around with goods in boats.  One came with some of the moas (quilted or sewn stuff):

"You want to buy one?"

"If I can't carry it, I don't need it and I'm carrying enough."

"You could buy it as a gift?"

"Don't have anyone I like that much."

Oh the looks I get.

If he had beer and nibbles, we may have done some business.

Now to be fair, the Kuna do sometimes bring by fresh fish or crab.  If the smell of seafood didn't make me sick I might have been more excited.   Captain Bernard often bought fresh fish and crab from the natives.  He would buy three crab for ten dollars which I was told is less than a quarter price of a restaurant.


In addition to trying to sell goods, we did have a couple Kuna show up and demand water.  Not a small amount - they had their own large drum with them.  The captain dutifully filled and returned it.  I asked him about it and he told me there was a 'fraternity' at sea.  I'm wondering if that was the Kuna tax.


In the next blog, we set sail (er - use the motor - not enough wind) for the dangerous open sea.  Stay tuned.



HOW TO DO DISHES ON A SMALL BOAT

Since fresh(-ish) water is a stored, valuable commodity, you need to start the wash with salt water.  Either sit on the back steps if you are anchored or use the nifty bucket with knotted rope to get the salt water.  After scrubbing them off with that, rinse with fresh.



HOW TO SHIT AT SEA

I really hated this toilet.  It looks big in the picture but if you're over age ten it's a small target.  If you are a fat bastard you need to squeeze the business end of your ass into a very small and uncomfortable spot and start shitting.

Once you've managed to get rid of the crap, it's time to manually pump out the waste.  To the right of the toilet is a gray handle.  You pump slowly to get all the shit out.  If it doesn't all go out, you flip the gray switch to 'fill the tank', pump to fill it and then flip it back to 'drain' and keep pumping.

For those who don't like to discuss poop or have others know they poop, I'll bet this is a nightmare.  Everyone on the boat knows you used the toilet as you're spending a couple minutes down there with a noisy slow barely working pump trying to get rid of the shit.

But wait!  There's more!

You may still have shit in your ass!  How do we get rid of that?  We can't use toilet paper!  No - we need to spray it out with a hose that has enough water pressure to dribble out the water in a depressed fashion.

So you need one hand to hold your ass open, one hand to work the sprayer and another to scrub out your ass.

Aside from a few three handed freaks who regard this as 'no big deal'

you are now stuck juggling three things you'd rather not.

Knowing my readers as I do there will be a certain percentage that go try this out in their bathroom.  If your bathroom isn't moving like a slow moving bucking bronco, you haven't had the full 'flavor' experience yet.

And when I was sailing the seas were 'dead calm'.  I can't even imagine the fun of trying this in rough seas!

But enough with my coprophilia.



BOAT SECURITY

There really doesn't seem to be any.  This is a bit confusing for me.  Everyone just leaves their crap on their boats and wanders off.  Natives wander around on their boats.  My guess would be that the natives don't rob the boats because if they did people would stop coming to their area and buying stuff from them.



SHIPBOARD LIFE

Most of what you do at sea seems to be 'wait'.  You wait until you can go do something else.

This irritated the fuck out of me.  I'm the kind of person who likes to always be doing something.  With my lifestyle, I have plenty of time to think about stuff in silence already.  Activities which encourage this are quite a bummer.

Living aboard a boat doesn't seem to be for the crippled or weak.  The captain is routinely dirty from messing with the engines, anchor, plumbing and so on.  He works his rear off.

A boat would make an excellent money pit.  You see, boats quite naturally want to have everything go wrong with them and then sink into the ocean.  Only someone messing with the boat all of the time and the power of money can keep the boat from following what it wants to do.  Sometimes even these are not enough but in general if you have enough people working on the boat and throw enough money at it, you will get days if not weeks of service from one.  Till it wants more.

If you're a non-smoker on a small boat, you may be fucked.   Smoking in the pilot house during inclement weather (more often than you think) is quite normal as is smoking in the open air.



OVERALL THOUGHTS ON CENTRAL AMERICA

With the exception of the two wildly overpriced countries (Panama and Costa Rica), the rest had just blended together.  Same basic architecture, food and people.

Overall, Central America seems a bit pricey for what you get.  [Note for those people who think it's just Logan saying this, fuck off, it is not that uncommon to hear from other tourists as well.]

I can't think of anything which would bring me back to Central America.  Been there, done that, done with that.  It made me miss SE Asia where I could get a much better meal for a third of the price and lodging for about two thirds of the price.



PHILOSOPHY

"The laid back lifestyle."

Ah.  Saying this brings up images of

laying in a hammock, enjoying the day as time slips by.  Maybe ordering a drink from a passing waiter...

Oh - wait - the waiter is no where to be found.  They are off talking with their friends and ignoring the customers who have all entered the first stages of dehydration.

And the hammock?   Yeah - it actually looks like this

simply because nobody would be bothered to repair or replace it.

When people think about the 'laid back lifestyle' they are thinking about a simpler life for them.  They are not thinking about lazy, incompetent or inept people that may want to have preform a service for them - like fix a toilet.

I'd rather live in a place where the people aren't trying to live a half assed 'idylic lifestyle'.  Translation, they don't work much and are paid appropriately hence they are always poor.

If you're on a vacation, which is more relaxing?  Being tended to or having to go do stuff yourself?  Hell, you've probably already paid big money to get there and since you are on vacation you don't have to work anyway.

Think about that next time you hear someone advertising the natives of a place you were thinking about going on vacation live a 'laid back lifestyle'...