Wilma part 3

4:03 pm Thursday. 16 hours til Wilma gets jiggy wit it!

I just got back from the water front. I took my little wind meter for some readings. I took 40 knts sustained winds with gusts to 60. It is going to be a very exciting night! There is a little steady rain falling but nothing you would worry about yet. There are some waves hitting the sea wall but the wind is mostly NE now so the waves are running parallel to shore more than into it. Already you can see people are starting to settle in for the evening. The streets are quieter and just about everyone has done what they are going to do to prepare. They have set up shelters at the convention center and other locations to help out migrant workers and others that don’t have anyplace safe to stay for the night.

News break!! We just heard on CNN that we should get on the last ferry out of town!! Hum!!!!! I am sure that the last ferry was at 5 pm last night. It appears Mr CNN is a little behind in the breaking news. He was only 22 hours too late on the warning but thanks for the sentiment. Just wish they had a clue when they are broadcasting to the whole world!! Proof indeed the what you hear on the news is mostly worthless. Don't believe them! They are trying to create hysteria. Jeez!!

I just saw our neighborhood drunk. We affectionately refer to him as thing 1, as he and 3 others are usually drunk together. He had obviously found his daily supply and was well beyond staggering. I would say he was “plastered” and having a real tough time negotiating the middle of the street. The wind definitely was having some effect on his balance. The point being, is that people here are still smiling and wishing each other well. It is not life as usual but it is not so scary as the media would have everyone believe. We see our neighbors and they all say “ya viene”, here it comes! Many are sitting outside on the porches watching the storm come in and are not too upset. They have all seen it before and are well prepared for what is on its way.

It is surely a big one and there is little chance now that it will miss us. Encarna is a little nervous but she is confident that our house will hold up. I am too. The only worry for me is that the island does not take more damage than it can spring back from quickly. The island needs tourists and if they do not come because of reported (those darn reporters) storm damage, then the island will suffer more economically than the damage from Wilma alone. We shall see?

I am going to see if these pix come through. If they do I will send a few more soon.

Ya viene!!!

Wilma part 2

October 20 2005 1:32 pm.

Thursday in Cozumel.

18 hours till Wilma says “howdy”.

Well, It seems there is an increase in intensity already. Just wind for now but spotty showers as well. People are still off rushing about and the hammering and pounding still resounds all around. I just finished prepping the house. It has boards up on the glass windows, wood shutters are fine without, propane tanks unhooked and stowed, light fluffy things put away safe and the dive room is secure. We have all the provisions we need and are just hoping we have electricity as long as possible. It is going to get a little boring without it. I guess we would have to talk or something?? Hehehe!!!

There is a mandatory curfew rumor that is supposed to last from 3pm today until Saturday morning. I am not sure if it will be enforced but I will try to get out and take some pix for as long as I can safely. Now that will be a hoot!!

Latest info says the little lady is moving so slow it may sit on us for 20-30 hours. With winds whipping about at 145 mph and above it should make for an interesting weekend. I guess Carlos and Charlies will be closed. Can’t buy alcohol anyway says the big guys. I am going to save my batteries on the computer when the power goes out but write updates and save them. My camera is charged so I will hope to take lots of pix.

Encarna says that people are busy but calm. They are fresh off Emily and not too tense. It is almost scary how lightly people seem to be taking it. I am with them. There is nothing more we can do about it but wait for it to come. People are going to the other side just to see the big waves hitting the east shore. The police are stopping them so the don’t get stuck over there.

We are going to get on the motorcycle and check some stuff out. Let you know how that goes in the next update!!

Let the adventure continue!

Tony

Wilma part 1

For those of you that have been with me a while you may remember back in Oct 05 we had this little storm called Wilma visit our little island. Wilma was not invited but we prepared for her arrival nonetheless. The day before she got here the barometric reading in the eye was the lowest of any storm ever taken. She was gonna be a big one and she was not moving fast which means she might just overstay her welcome. The islands inhabitants prepared for her fury but few could actually have known what it was really going to be like. It was going to be my first Hurricane. I had seen many come and go over the previous years but non had really hit us. This promised to be a new adventure for me so I wanted to make the best of it.
I posted this on Oct 20 2005. I added some pix so you could get a feel for what was going on in Cozumel then.


Okay! Here is the deal!! I have been fielding phone calls and emails from everyone for the last 2 days. It seems that it is the "not knowing" that is killing everyone so this is my plan! I am going to start an update journal! I will try to send out the info until the power goes out. I will give details on what is happening and how the island is doing. That way you can all know from an insider’s perspective what it is like to be in a hurricane. Should be good reading!! My friend Perry from http://www.cancunmap.com/ suggested it and I think it is a good idea. I will take pictures too and post them as well. Let’s see if this works out.

First update!!!

11:20 am Thursday

19 hours till predicted Wilma encounter.

The island has been doing the routine for one and a half days now. Everyone is in a frenzy! All normal work has stopped. The schools are closed and the shelves at the grocery store are pretty sparse. The sound or hammers banging as the plywood gets nailed on is all around. Traffic is heavy as people scurry about taking care of everything they need to do. Water, food, candles are all in short supply. The news is full of constant reports from the officials saying “run for your lives” or “we have this all under control”. It is no wonder the people are in such a state.

On a more personal note, Encarna and I have decided that Wilma is on her way and we are doing what we need to do. Our house is easy. Just a few windows and the wood is already cut. Just 30 min or so to set it up. We have water and lots of candles. We figure we need to loose a little weight so we did not buy any extra food. When the power goes out we will have to eat everything in the fridge anyway! Our water tank on the top of the house if full so it won’t blow away and we have tied up or knocked over anything that could catch a gust.

I have a nice feeling now. I am not afraid but I really don’t know what to expect. It is going to be my first hurricane. I hope I can still write at midnight. People say when the wind starts howling it is pretty scary. Like a freight train for hours and hours. All part of the adventure of living in the Caribbean. Not much more to do but wait and see if our preparations were enough.

I hope I can continue to send these out through the night. I think I will post some pictures on the website and see if I can create a hurricane Wilma page! If you stop getting updates that does not mean I am dead or underwater. It just means a tree has fallen on the power lines and I can’t send anything out. I hope to stay connected as long as possible.

To be continued…

Tony

Success!

6-11-01


The project, which was unnamed, was a great challenge and a great success for me. When I told my new boss that I thought I could do it I was not sure. I knew I had to put myself out on a limb to prove that I was the right person for the job. The risk was huge because so much of my last year was riding on how successful I could be at work again. Let me explain!
The big day was set for Thursday. We were going to move 6 three-ton moorings 10 miles up the coast. I had done experiments and test for weeks. I had prepped equipment, trained crew and planned every detail that I could plan. Jonathan (my boss) had handled the legal stuff, like permission from the Marine Park, deals with contractors and coordination of several outside companies.
The morning arrives and the delays put us way behind schedule. By 1:30 p.m. my crew and I arrived at the beach. Our first mooring floats pretty well but conditions at the beach are no help. We fight hard against swell and poor visibility to float the second mooring. We are ready to go and our boat is waiting off shore outside the Marine Park for the mooring but the Xtap (big towboat) is late. After waiting too long I finally get permission from the Marine Park inspector to swim the little 3-ton raft out to our boat. Jose and myself push the thing for 1 hour when the Xtap finally arrives and throws us a line less than 200 yards from our boat. I hand off the mooring to our boat and head back to shore on the Xtap to get the second mooring. I meet the rest of my crew half way but the second mooring looks bad. It is listing badly and I don't know why. They say it must be heavier but I think they didn't fill the barrels completely. Jose and I ride the mooring in tow out to our boat. In hindsight that was very dangerous. 15 minutes later we arrive next to our boat but no line is thrown. Here is where my inexperience with boats shows and I blow it.
Andrea, the captain of the Xtap tells me to unhook the mooring from his boat. I think he knew what was coming. I did as he said. Not 2 minutes after I unhook my worst nightmare begins. Without warning the raft I had built with 55-gallon drums tied with ropes and chains to cement, dips below the surface of the sea. Very slowly and actually quite gracefully it settles under the swell. In open blue water I watch through my dive mask as it slowly sinks down below. The sea is clear and the background is a perfect deep blue. As the mooring is lost I know there is nothing I can do to save it and realize quickly that we could be in danger. I grab Jose and swim him away from the area. Just as I do the barrels attached the mooring implode from the pressure of the sea and roar a defining sound as they do. Luckily none of the barrels come loose. My heart sank to the bottom of the abyss with the mooring. Failure was all I could think.
I board the Xtap trying to come to terms with what had happened. Jonathan swims over to the Xtap to try and figure what our next move will be. I am at a loss. He is understanding and says we still have to deal with the mooring we have attached to our boat. I agree and we decide to press on.
As I attempt to step across to our boat from the Xtap (my mind still not fully focused) I slip on the wet steps and fall. I pull my right shoulder hard and as I bounce off the bottom of our boat I badly bruise my ribs on my right side. I am hurt but can still swim to safety.
We say goodbye to the Xtap and realize there is another problem. One of the 3-inch ropes is stuck under our boat. It is attached to the mooring so we need it but can't free it. The captain and crew fear it has rapped around the propeller shaft of our boat. The captain asks me if I can put on my dive gear. It is my job and I agree.
As I assemble my gear I realize how bad my shoulder and ribs are injured. I strain and wince just to lift the tanks and weights. I think to myself, "as soon as I hit the water I'll feel better". So I ease into the water and Jonathan hands my gear to me.
Once in the water I do feel better and duck under the boat to see what the problem is. As feared, the rope is tangled like piece of fishing line around the 6-foot propeller. I return to the surface and ask the Captain to make sure the propeller can't possibly turn while I am working on it. I didn't stand much chance of survival had it started turning. He confirms it is safe and I dip under again. It takes about 10 minutes but I free the propeller from its little problem without cutting the very expensive rope.
I get out of the water and we begin the long slow tow up the coast. ¼ throttle is our best speed. We enjoy a beautiful sunset cruise knowing that our work is not even close to finished for the day. We still have to drop the mooring on site, and it will be dark this time.
When we arrive on site, Jonathan, the Captain and I put a plan together. We decide we need to connect the mooring to the anchor winch and then cut the barrels free. After that we find the exact site and drop the mooring to the bottom. Once in place I disconnect the chain and call it a night. Good plan right? Sure!
The crew handles the connection to the chain and anchor winch. No Problem. Then I get back in the water and realize how much my shoulder and ribs hurt after the 3 hour ride to the site. I also know that I was not ready for a night dive. I only have my small backup light with me and have not done a night dive in months, and I have never done a working night dive.
As I swim up to the mooring it bobs up and down next to the boat and I evaluate the conditions. Except for the darkness the conditions are pretty good. There was no current, very small swell and good visibility, except for the lack of light. As I get close I realize just how big and heavy this thing is. It is 8 feet long, 4 feet wide and 1 and half feet thick made of concrete and rebar. On the outside are 7 55 gallon barrels which increase its overall mass considerably. Did I mention it was dark?
My biggest worry is the barrels. Each one lifts approximately 450 lbs. When I cut them free it is going to be exciting to say the least. I decide distance is my ally. I attach a small string to one of the chains and use a long kitchen knife (the biggest on the boat) to cut the first rope (there are 2 per barrel). As I do, the barrel barely moves from the mooring. I am secretly surprised because it means that the second rope is now holding fast and supporting the full force of the barrel. Now the second one is going to be good. It takes just 2 swipes of the blade to cut the half-inch rope. As the barrel flies to the surface, the end of the mooring drops quickly towards the bottom. It takes with it the chain and small rope I was holding in my left hand. Chain is expendable. I am not.
Each of the next 6 barrels is equally as exciting and I am greatly relieved that I don't have to do that anymore. Right!

The rest should be easy. Find the site, drop the mooring, and unhook it. Where is the site? I have dove it before and I am pretty sure where it is and what it looks like. The Captain and Jonathan are sure too but we all have a different direction in mind. Great minds, right? Finally after what seems like an hour, Jonathan agrees to let me back in the water to find the spot. He sends the dingy out to follow my bubbles and mark my exact location for the Captain. Good idea and I really appreciate the backup. When I find what I think is the spot, I surface and yell to the boat that I am right over it and going down to confirm the depth. Jonathan agrees and I head for the bottom. 36 feet below confirms I have found the mooring location. Here is where it gets good!
As I turn toward the surface the light which was coming from the boat is gone. I shine my small light up right at the bow or our boat just a few feet away and the mooring is still attached! I am about to be run over by my own boat at 10 feet below. "They won't even feel me" is what I think as I swim as fast as a can at a right angle to the boat. I swim as hard as I can without looking back until I am sure I am clear of the boat and its prop suction. When I know I am clear, I surface. I am directly at port side about 40 feet away. The boat is now over the reef and headed into shallow water. I didn't find out until later that the depth sonar is out of service. I yell to the boat that they are in 15 feet of water. Everyone on board knows that we have a 12-foot draft. The Captain quickly throws the throttles full a stern and the boat eases backward away from the reef and me.
Now this is the caper. I look down at the location I had risked so much to find and there is zero visibility. The deep draft and shallow reef plus full throttle has turned the clear water to silt. I slap the surface of the ocean with frustration. If Poseidon was there, he was laughing his ass off.
Jonathan offers a calm suggestion that I wait for the silt to clear. With time it does and I am able to find the spot again. This time the dingy marks the spot after I find it and they drop the mooring 3 feet away from the reef. Perfect! I swim down effortlessly, untie the rope and breathe a long sigh of relief into my regulator as a swim the rope to the surface.
Back on board, the reality of what has occurred is settling in. Rudy offers some comic relief. During the day he was able repair one of the hand held scooters, which meant we now had 2 working out of 6. He laughs and says in his thick Norwegian accent "ascooters 2. Moorings von!" His day has been a success and it brings me back to earth for a moment. Jonathan, also a great one for wit in tough circumstances, makes me feel better saying sarcastically "Hey! since we lost that first one in the abyss, we only have 4 more to go!" Love that guy!
The boat ride home is filled with evaluation and planning. The boat arrives at the dock at 11:30 P.M. I tell Jonathan I am going to sleep in the next day and he says, "Come in when you feel like it". I am tired, sore and disappointed but not beaten. Tomorrow the sun will rise and who knows what the tide will bring (Castaway).
When I get to the boat the next day I am still tired. My injuries kept me awake most of the night. I arrive at the boat at about 11 a.m. and Ollie, (nicknamed the lion king by the crew because he is cold and barks orders) has been onboard for hours and knows the whole story. He is the owner of the boat also. He gets the leaders together and starts placing blame. The Captain takes most of the heat and I feel bad for him. For some reason Ollie does not mention me. He also says we are going to move the rest of the moorings in the afternoon. I am not up for it and neither is my crew. Thankfully Jonathan is the voice of reason and as Manager of the boat convinces Ollie that there is too much preparation and planning needed to rush into it again. Love that guy!
The rest of that day is spent replacing lost gear and planning for another assault on the moorings. I purchase new rope and chain, tie knots with my crew, and brief everyone on what is going to happen the next day. Times are set, lessons are learned and this time there will be no failure.
The next day (Saturday) my crew and I arrive at the beach almost on time and mostly ready for the day ahead. We lose a lot of valuable time looking for the barrels, which were delivered to the beach the day before. By the time our boat arrives off shore we have only attached 2 of 7 barrels. I vow not to rush rush this time and double check everything. I dot my "I"s and cross my "T"s . I check my knots and double and triple check for leaks in old rusty barrels. I will not be rushed this time. As we leave the beach with a new mooring raft in tow I am a ball of stress. Each time the mooring settles below the waves I fear it is sinking. Ruben (my second and newest Divemaster) is the voice of calm. He was born on Cozumel and has the island attitude. He says, "don't worry man. It's not going to sink, and so what if it does". I laugh and tell him it is my job to worry and I will until I hand this 3-ton raft over to our boat.
As we meet our boat in open water I am very relieved. I yell out to Jonathan, who is standing on the edge of the bow "Hey, We found this mooring floating around in the surf. It has real low mileage and I'll make you a hell of a deal if you'll take it off our hands". The hand off goes like clockwork; the mooring gets attached to the Princesa Maya (our boat). I then swim over, gather my dive gear, and calm myself for the freeing of the barrels.
This time each barrel clears easily and having Ruben there snorkeling and backing me up is a huge relief. Daylight is kind of nice too. We lose one chain into the abyss but have extras on shore. In less than 30 minutes the mooring is free and we are headed back to shore to prep the next one.
Rough surf and poor visibility hamper us as we prep the next mooring, but it is ready to go about 10 min early. As the Princesa Maya rounds the coast in the distance, the routine of filling the barrels with air and towing it out to sea begins again. The handoff is perfect again and I am filled with renewed hope. Barrels fly free safely again. As we head for shore, I decide my crew has had enough. It is 3 pm and the other 2 moorings will wait until Sunday.
Sunday comes all too soon and we find ourselves back at the beach hooking barrels to moorings and filling them with air. My crew has gotten so good that what took 2 hours the day before is now accomplished in less than 1. Elmer is the Knotmaster. As 3 of us heave as hard as we can in unison on the rope, he grabs the center with his strong hands like the rope is a serpent. He wrestles and pulls it into a knot that even a 3-ton mooring could not escape from.
The first mooring is floating but I worry all the way out because it seems to be real low in the water. Ruben reassures me again and it is handed off without incident.
The sixth and final mooring is prepped on the beach in record time. We had all hoped to get off early on Sunday if we finished quickly. My shore team did their part. Unfortunately Ollie, onboard the Princesa Maya, decided to take his wife diving at the mooring site to show her around. My crew and I waited on the beach for almost 4 hours for our boat to return. They were not happy but we floated the last mooring and headed towards the Princesa Maya it out as we had with the 5 before.
The hand off to the boat went well but while cutting one of the barrels free, I got too close and as its stored energy flies free of the mooring, it slams me hard in the ribs. Of course it is the same side that I damaged a few days before. I almost threw up into my regulator from the hit. I could not breath. The pain was intense. I felt dizzy. I settled under the swell and gathered my composure. The sea calms my nerves and reminds me why I am in Cozumel. This beautiful clear water is rich with life and for a little while I am part of it. It gives me strength and maybe a little courage. I am completely comfortable below the surface. All my senses focus again and the tears in my eyes clear. The sea protects me and holds me safe. I begin to breath normal again. The sea supports me weightless like a baby and I feel better.
Now instead of heading for home with the towboat, my crew and I gather all the gear and place it aboard the Princesa Maya. So we can help at the mooring site. I am tired but know I have done well. The crew is in a great mood. They would rather be at home with their families on this Sunday afternoon but fishing from the back of the Princesa Maya while towing a 3 ton mooring on her bow is not so bad. We have a good meal on board and even have cake for desert. Jonathan and I are almost giddy about the whole thing. We know that all we have to do now is drop that mooring on site and disconnect it and we are outta there. Piece of cake, right?
At the mooring site the current is pretty strong. About as strong as I have seen it but Ruben says about medium in the current department for this area. The plan is the same as before. Ollie finds the site while snorkeling from the dive platform and this time Jonathan and I will swim down and disconnect it. The Captain has a tough time putting the boat in the right spot in the heavy current but Ollie finally gives the signal to drop it. Then Jonathan and I scuba down to the mooring and I quickly disconnect the chain as Jonathan ties on the marker buoy. Then we head for the surface but because of the current the marker buoy (empty plastic coke bottle) does not reach the surface. The big rope that is stuck under the mooring is also too short to reach the surface. The rope is very expensive and new. Jonathan signals me to wait there at the end of the rope (all pun intended) while he works out a plan on the boat.
I soon realize that I am the human marker buoy. I inflate my BC (Buoyancy Compensator) full but still can't break the surface and hold onto the rope at the same time. I am about 6 feet deep as the current pushes me along. I figure I am on my own here so I quickly make a plan. The boat will need to get back into position and throw me a line so I can tie it to the rope. I need to be on the surface to get that line but can't because of the current. Try and follow me here. I pull hard with my arms on the 3-inch rope I am hanging onto. That takes me down but also gains some ground against the current. Then at about 15 feet below the surface I let the rope slide in my hands and kick as fast as possible to the surface. As I break the surface I have about 10 feet to drift before I am at the and of the rope and it pulls me under again but I get 3 to 7 seconds of surface time where I can look for the boat and signal to them that I am okay. It works but it is exhausting. Each effort is a maximum. My arms and right shoulder are killing me and the ribs (unfortunately still not well) remind me of my stupid misstep before. I check my air consumption every 2 passes down the rope. I started with two thirds of a tank and am down to one third. If I get to the safe limit (500 psi) someone else is going to have to save that stupid rope.
The boat is taking a long time to get into position. I know the Captain is being careful not to run over me but I don't know how long I will last. Finally within range I duck down and pull again. When I pop up one of the crew throws me a line. It falls horribly short and I am very furious. How hard is it to throw the rope to me? I work out the timing of pulling in the line and readying it for another throw. When I think it is about right I pull again on my rope then kick for the surface. As I break the surface Rudy is on the bow of the boat with the throw line in hand. Without hesitation he hurls it out in front of me knowing that the current will quickly bring it to me. It does perfectly and I catch the rope and tie it off with time to spare. I release the rope knowing that with that old sailor on the bow it is in good hands. I love that guy!
Completely exhausted I drift to the dive platform. The current pins me to the ladder but not too bad. It is hard enough that I have a tough time getting my gear off. Juanito is there to help. He quickly gets my BC and tank off of me. I am so tired that I can't even get my fins off. I just hold my feet out of the water and he removes them. I love that guy too! On the platform I rinse my gear as the crew prepares to raise it so we can head home. I sit on the edge of the boat with a hose of fresh water held over my head. Jonathan looks down at me with a knowing grin. No words are exchanged but there is no communication lost. I am beat but not beaten. I feel terrible and sore but probably the most satisfying time of my whole life.
On the ride back to the dock even the Lion King says to me "You did a good job. The lost mooring costs about $500 but we don't really need it". I don't love him!
3 weeks ago when Jonathan was frustrated with the mooring problem and I had to prove my value on the boat, I told him "I think I can move those moorings for you". He said, "What makes you think your qualified to do that?" I said; "I'm not sure but you're going to have to trust me" I'm really glad he did.
The Spanish word for mooring is "Muerto". It means dead. I don't know if there is any relation there but I know this. If you don't push the limit every now and then, you never really know what they are or what you are capable of. I think I have a pretty good perspective of that right now.

What's next?

Ciao for now

Medical needs

Here is a little story I wrote back in the first days of Cozumel. I hope you like it

7-23-01

So I am taking a little night swim (skinny dip with Ginger) and happen upon a nasty little sea urchin. These are the things you often see that look like living pincushions. They sit on the bottom and don’t do a lot apart from try not to get eaten. They do this like a porcupine would. Just stick out the needles and hope nothing is stupid enough to try anything. Well I had no interest at all in the damn thing. I just didn’t see it. Alcohol and dark can have an effect on your perception of what is reasonable. My bad.

The pain of the stick was quite bad actually. Ginger got one too but was too drunk to really care much. I guess one stick should have been enough. I got 8. They all went into the bottom of my foot quite deep. I went inside the house and tried to get them out but only could get 2. The rest were deep inside and each attempt to dig them out either broke them off or lodged the quills further in. It was late, I was drunk and Ginger was sleeping so I did too.

Next day the foot is killing me. I can barely walk on it and when I get to work everyone on the boat says I need to pee on it. Great, I think. Where am I going to get that much pee?

So with a little coaxing I try it (no details on this one folks). By mid morning it really hurts and I don’t think the pee was doing it’s job. So I decide to go down to the local DAN hospital. It is the site of the hyperberic chamber and DAN is the divers best friend. Last year in August I purchased their preferred membership and divers insurance. Thinking I should take advantage of the insurance, I went to that hospital. They quickly take me down to the treatment room and in a few short minutes I am sitting on a table with my pained foot in a bucket of very hot water. This lasts about 45 min. When the treatment is done they put some cream on my foot and tell me I am done. Great treatment huh? The doctor gives me a prescription for more cream and as it turns out the stuff contains Urea (uric acid like in your urine). When I get to the counter the lady has no interest in my membership and charges me $40 for the visit. I explain to her that this is DAN insurance card preferred membership! She asks me to pay the bill again. I say "NO" DAN Diver friend, DAN, Card carrying preferred member! She was not impressed. Then she hands me a receipt and tells me to send it into DAN and they will pay me back. This is a DAN hospital right?

I am really pissed (not on my foot) but figure the people at the hospital don’t make the rules and I leave to get my prescription. $14 for more cream and I am back at work and my foot is still killing me.

After 8 days the foot is okay to walk on but still hurts a bit. DAN has not replied to my email about my money, and I am on the verge of a major DAN bashing campaign. Had I gone to the local hospital I am sure I would have been better off and had more money left in my pocket too.

I finally go to a calling center and call DAN's number (which is not Toll free). They explain to me the long paper process to get my money back. I jumped through the hoops with them for a couple of months and finally they send me a check for $40 to cover the cost of my visit. I had spent over $100 for the crappy insurance in the first place. Problem is there is no way to cash a US check in Mexico. No one will accept it and it is worthless. If any of you ever think about getting DAN for diving don't bother. Once they get your money you will never see it again.

I guess I should have followed my own advice. When in Rome do as the Romans. Piss on it.

Road Trip

This is something I wrote when I first left the Sheriff's Dept and before I moved to Cozumel. Seems so far away. I wonder how many of you have been with the saga that long?

09/06/00

I just got back from San Francisco a few hours ago. I went up there to see my Mom, My sister and her new baby who is already 9 weeks old. I decided that I would ride my motorcycle instead of driving. It is the longest solo motorcycle trip I have ever taken and I know it won't be the last. If I take my truck it is just another long trip on the interstate but if I take my bike I may choose the road less traveled which is what has inspired this journal.
When I left on Sunday morning I had not even opened the map to choose a route. I just headed north on I-5 figuring I would pick the route while I was going. I am so glad I did. I ended up taking Hwy.198 and then Hwy.25 between Coalinga and Holister. This is 100 miles of some of the nicest, most scenic, twisty, sent from heaven motorcycle roads I have ever ridden. It is a long curvy road that makes you concentrate so much that you forget about riding and just meld with the bike. Let me explain.
Traveling down this road at a not so legal pace, I see a caution sign ahead. It is yellow and has one of those curved arrows and a mph indicator at the bottom. I don't pay much attention to the mph number but look intensely at the bend in the road that I must navigate. Without hesitation I roll off the throttle with my right hand. Then my index and middle fingers squeeze down on the brake lever. I don't have to move them far because they are always poised touching the lever while I ride. The brakes are very responsive and they scrub off a lot of speed in a very short distance. They work so well that the inertia pushes me foreword and my crotch is pressed hard against the gas tank. I could hold myself back off the tank but I want my arms to remain loose on the controls. Breaking is not the only control input I must make. I judge my entry speed without looking at the speedometer. It takes only a split second to feel how fast I should enter this turn. As I get down to the end of my breaking my left hand pulls the clutch lever in to the grip and simultaneously my left foot does a toe tap on the shift lever to change gears. Just before I release the clutch I blip the throttle with my right hand to match engine speed to the new gear choice. If I do it perfect there is no lunge of pressure as I let off the clutch lever. It is smooth and seamless. As the motor reengages with the road I gently push on one side of the handlebars to lean the bike into the turn. I slide over on the seat just a bit in the direction of the turn. Hanging off feels great! As the bike settles into the lean I begin to roll the throttle back on, slowly at first then a little faster. I look through the turn as I roll the throttle on. The sound of the motor indicates that I chose the right gear for my exit speed. In an instant I scan the surface of the road for imperfections like potholes, bumps or debris. This is the time I must decide if it is safe to accelerate. Then I look through the apex and foreword to the exit of the turn. As I reach the exit I am at full throttle and rapidly approaching the next yellow caution sign for the next turn. I glance down at the speedometer for an instant. It reads 75 mph. It's a good thing I didn't notice that the caution sign at the entry.
All this takes place in less than 5 seconds and I am launched off to the next turn where the cycle starts all over again, braking, shifting, blipping, turning and accelerating turn after turn. All of this takes a great deal of concentration and this is where the magic of the ride really is. It all takes place without real conscious thought. I stop thinking about what my hands and feet are doing. I am thinking only of the road with a clarity that is hard to ever find. The bike becomes an extension of my body. I am no longer riding on top of the bike. I am just gliding effortlessly across the asphalt. I am powerful and graceful. It is a well-choreographed dance that changes all the time. No 2 turns are the same but the dance moves are flawless each time. It is easy. I am not breathing hard or breaking a sweat.
But the rush of sights and senses takes my mind into an extreme place. All the input, although exhilarating, becomes draining after a while. 45 minutes or so is about all the rush my brain can handle so I pull over under a shady tree for a well-deserved rest. As I park my bike and remove my helmet a calm starts to take me. This calm is peaked when I take my earplugs out and hear the silence. The engine whirl is silent. There is no more wind noise. There is no other traffic to listen to. This road gets little use. I take off my jacket and sit 20 feet away, under the shade of a tree. As I drink a sip of water and put a piece of beef jerky in my mouth I look at bike. It sits there in the shade leaned over on its’ kickstand. It is as calm as I am. It is not panting or sweating. The ride was as effortless for it as it was for me. The bright red paint and the flowing lines look beautiful in contrast to the surrounding hillsides. It is late summer and the background is light tan with dots of green bushes and a spindly barbed wire fence. My bike has taken me to another wonderful place. I breathe the clean air a take a few minutes to reflect on how calming it is to not move for a while. I feel lucky to be here.
After a little while I go back to my bike and put my gear back on. First the earplugs, then the helmet goes on. Then my jacket and lastly my gloves are slipped over my hands. As I lift my right leg over the seat and get back on my bike I glance up the road to see what lies ahead.
There is another caution sign on the side of the road. It says “curvy road next 42 miles”. I must be in heaven.


Let the adventure continue!

Tony Anschutz

Greetings

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