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Pakula PFT in El Salvador 2004
Not the usual fishing trip.

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4  

Part 2

Before us was a large parking lot fronting a large house that looked like it had just been built in Miami, or on the Gold Coast waterfront, one side a large barn that did in fact turn out to be a boat shed big enough to hold a 30’ boat with bridge and opposite was a set of small accommodation units.  

The house opened to  reveal a modern open plan, a large lounge at the front with a glass lined wall with sliding doors that opened up into the yard onto the beach. The room lined with Paco’s memorabilia of his hobbies of diving and fishing. 

Either Paco owned a trophy shop or was a pretty good fisherman as there are large sculptured trophies of bronze and glass displayed around the room. They were big trophies!!! The room is a showcase that represented Paco’s hobbies of fishing and diving with many shells and artefacts displayed neatly throughout the room and did I mention the trophies?. I must admit at this stage I was envious as by decree I’m not allowed to have Trophies in the house, mine are stored in the garage along with gardening tools, empty luggage cases and unpacked moving crates and boxes. I was relieved to know that Paco was also under the same decree in his family home in San Salvador, capital of El Salvador.

Along the top of the glass doors were a row of photos. More than just a bunch of snap shots as they were a history of Paco’s fishing and diving and showed the dedication of father and family and more than that the dedication of the family to the father. Throughout the trip it was very refreshing to see the interactions within Paco’s family. (Maybe if more dads carried a gun …..!!!) The floor was strewn with fishing paraphernalia I imagined was for the days ahead, this turned out to be only partially true as they would expose Paco as not being free of vices.

Jo and I were exhausted, the Miami show, travelling and the excitement at immigration, (remember you do need to get that visa!!) had all taken their toll. We were off to bed in a nice air-conditioned room in a wing of the house that stretched down to the beach.

We went to sleep easily and slept in till dawn. It had been a moonless night so we had no idea what the view or surrounding country looked like until now. The early light revealed a manicured grassed yard stretching down to a swimming pool and on to a gazebo on the edge of the grey volcanic light grey sand beach lined by palms that stretched for miles at both sides of the property. The beach had what seemed to be a few other houses and a few local villagers stretched along it with Pangas (long boats) on rollers neatly positioned to enhance the view. It was unclear if Paco had designed this perfect vista or had managed to find place that was already this idyllic.

 

At anchor just out the back of the house Paco’s mistress, the beautiful Sandy-ita gently rode in the stiff sultry on-shore winds. Luckily there was a large volcano jutting out of the ocean about 4 miles away providing a lee for anchored boats. In fact there were volcanos, big ones, all around us. I started feeling less concerned about the guns.

Paco called us in for breakfast, Spanish wraps that tasted good, strong brewed coffee, in the lounge that had been opened up completely to reveal the vista and let the breeze sweep through the house. The conversation turned to the possible options. As we had been on the go for what seemed like eternity a day just doing nothing seemed perfect in these surroundings. Jo hadn’t had a day off for over a year. Our life at home is busy, phones door bells, all of which are appreciated, but they do take their toll.

Paco took us on a tour of this beautiful property, and showed us how small El Salvador was by pointing to the high mountains / volcano’s of Nicaragua in one direction and Honduras to the other. Large frigate birds and pelicans were constantly on patrol along the beach and across the bay. Locals were on the beach repairing nets while others dotted the bay fishing and netting by hand. From time to time baitfish showered and quickly disappeared not giving the birds much time to feed.

It was a hot humid lazy day. Paco put up the hammock in the gazebo for Jo who spent the whole day dozing, reading and dozing slowly rocking in the breeze. I think Jo had found here spot. I checked on her from time to time to make sure she was still breathing. Jo did get up for lunch which we had in the perfect setting of the shade in the breeze in the Gazebo. BBQ lobsters, Shrimps (the size of tiger prawns) and fresh oysters all gathered from the local area. All had a distinct flavour, more like cold water seafood than the usual bland flavour of those from the tropics.

Through the morning Paco’s crew Tonio and Nikko arrived and were re-spooling the 80’s with Dacron, I showed Nikko how to join the nylon top shots. He picked up the method straight away. Throughout the trip both only had to be shown something once, even the fact they didn’t understand much of my English didn’t stop them getting it first time round. Both Nikko and Tonio seemed to get on well. Jo said they acted like a married couple which really cracked them up. I wonder if they’ve worked out who’s mummy yet!

Through the morning Paco started emptying the crates onto the floor. They were all full of trolling lures, lot’s of them!!! I’m used to seeing lots of lures and the amount he had although was a lot was around the amount we carry on our boat.

These were not the boat’s lures, they were the spares, the second row lures!!! Plus the ones he’s brought back from the Miami boat show covered the floor. He did mention that if his wife Sandy saw this he’d be in big trouble. Paco was addicted; he’s a Lureaholic in the final stages of Lureosis. What lay before me was only a few of the second row lures. There were lures from every maker I’d ever heard of and a few I’d never heard of. They were in every size and every that they had ever made and with the number that wasn’t on hand probably every colour.

Paco’s eyes lit up every time he held and stroked one, he was mesmerised by them. He is one addicted puppy. Where was he when I had the business!!! Wether on the phone, chatting to us or doing anything, his pet lures were never out of reach.

Paco had worked out a new trolling route to follow the next day and brought out the list. It was based on the fault lines of recent, some very recent, earthquakes!! I stated worrying less about volcanoes! In fact I stopped worrying about anything. Both Jo and I had slipped into ‘Cruise Mode’.  Everything had a good feel about it. We were on adventure in a country that might have been behind iron gates (actually, it is if you don’t have a visa!!) for all we knew about it before arriving.

The conversation drifted swaying across the planet talking of life in Australia and life in El Salvador, the differences and similarities, the fishing and with Paco about the family.

By evening the house was cleared, gear taken to the boat. We were ready to go the next morning at the unearthly time of ‘when we were ready.’’

End Part 2
Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4  

 

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