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Part 1
It
was a balmy night sitting in Fox Café on Ocean Drive in Miami on a on a
balmy evening listening to Alex Fox playing some of the best spine tingling
guitar I’ve ever heard, not to mention the gracious movements of the dancer.
His music somehow brought the memories, feelings and emotions of the
previous couple of weeks flooding back.
We
had been at the Miami Boat Show a couple of weeks earlier. The show was
great, it had been too many years since catching up with those friends I’d
made on previous visits and catching up with new ones that I’d met on the
Pakula Forum, the Marlin Bar. The first was Hugh O'Niel from Turks and
Caicos, a place in the sun where no marlin are brought in by local game
boats, where fathers fish with sons and friends in a paradise worth further
investigation. A great guy with a really great son. The banter between the
two showed great love and happiness between father and son. Refreshing sense
of humour and wisdom.
Then I met Paco, surprising, I’d just met and was impressed by Hugh and son,
then along comes Paco with two sons in tow, proud and handsome, they like
Hugh had a presence that at first was alarming as they look to young to have
that presence. In both cases the respect the sons had for their fathers was
immediately apparent.
Unfortunately I didn’t get to know Hugh better, there wasn’t enough time,
hopefully in the future there will be.
Paco and sons on the other hand were to have Jo and me in their hip pockets
for the following week in El Salvador over which time I got to know them
well. I’ll say this now rather than at the end of the story. I’ve only ever
met one other person with the aura that Paco has. He was Brendan Hickey of
Hicky Sports in Opotiki, New Zealand. I could see why he had it, as he had
been a Benedictine Monk working in third world countries. Paco has it (the
Aura) as well. It’s hard to explain what it is. It’s something like a sense
of what is fair and right, even keeled, wise, content and happy.
I
can just see Paco blushing now as he reads this.
I’m
somewhat reluctant to tell the story of El Salvador as it’s perfect without
the tourism and effects of the outside world. Few if anyone I know outside
the country knows anything about it. I love the feeling of going into the
unknown. Most still think it’s a war zone. Many said we we’re walking into a
powder keg, but in past experiences I’ve found the fishing is pretty good in
a war zone. After a couple of years of reading Paco’s writings and MSN
communications I doubted any of this was true.
We
arrived in San Salvador, capital of El Salvador on our Taca flight on a new
Jet to a large modern airport to see lots of smartly dressed uniformed guys,
all with guns. We then proceeded to Immigration, more smartly dressed
smiling guys with guns. We had rung the Embassy in Australia and were told
we didn’t need a visa. Well you do!!! Even though we couldn’t speak Spanish
and they couldn’t speak English we became aware of the situation.
Through various contacts the situation was eventually resolved and we got
though the gates to a welcoming smiling Paco and friend Lalo off the boat
'El Capitan', one of the boats fishing 'PFT El Salvador' in what was now a
rather hot late night. (boy is that cutting the story short!!!)
We
then jumped in Paco’s armoured car. He assured me it was only necessary in
the past, and is now redundant. He does like everyone else, carry a gun. For
a very short time it made me uneasy, but Jo felt safer there than anywhere
else. There are guns of all sorts evident everywhere, I think even the pet
dogs carry them. I wanted one too!!! I kept thinking of an Arnie scene in a
movie where he jumps of a rooftop funeral and everyone there pulls out a gun
and starts shooting. The reality though is that with so many guns around,
no-ones going to point one at anyone else, no one’s going to be rude or
discourteous to anyone. I think that even Dirty Harry would say please and
thank you in El Salvador! However in an armoured car you can still push your
way through traffic.
We
were finally on our way in El Salvador, down wide new highways for quite
some distance then along winding gravel hilly roads. We were on our way to
El Tamarindo, Paco’s beach house. The night view was limiting, but glimpses
reminded me of places like New Zealand's mountain terrain, after all it is a
place of Volcano’s with vegetation much like the Pacific Islands, lush with
post card Palms.
The
conversation rolled as I tried to find out as much as possible, about as
many things regarding El Salvador, the plans for the week as possible in as
short a time as possible. Paco had everything planned and all was in place.
As I came to realise, Paco leaves nothing unplanned with alternatives also
arranged.
The
street front of the destination was inconspicuous, blending into the area
along side all the other high walls with what seemed to be barns, which
turned out to be boat houses for large boats.
The
gates were opened by the guard that lives on site……
End of Part 1
Part 1
Part 2 Part
3 Part 4
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