December 17, 2004

The last few days have been more then stressful. I arrived in Cartagena fine, but I was left standing at the baggage carrousel watching everyone get there bags but me. Panic…!, this could really wipe me out, An SSB & Tuner, a refrigeration unit, new video & still cameras, a new backpack & climbing gear, a new back-up auto pilot & remote, not to mention a bunch of other stuff. Then it hit me, my master video tapes are in there as well, how could I be so stupid, 2 ½ years of my work? “Just return the tapes” I thought to myself, “please… just the video tapes”. My buddies Charlie & Eric were at the airport to greet me. They could tell something was wrong by the long look in my eyes. Charlie said it would probably show up, however he lost a new computer the same way last year, “not too reassuring” I thought. I left the airport with a hollow feeling and a blue slip of paper in place of my bags. Namaste was closed up for 5 months in the hot & moist Caribbean air. Mold was rampant throughout the boat, my allergies & asthma kicked off immediately. When I woke up the next day I could tell that I was loosing my voice again, What is that, laryngitis, strep? I’ll see a doctor in the next few days if it gets worse. I spent the day taking taxi’s back & forth from the airport. I was there for every scheduled flight, nothing…, 3 flights came in, no luggage for me. They said it might come in on the last flight from Bogotá. The guy next to me laughed, “Bogotá, those guys are thieves, but they only take small things, cologne, a small camera perhaps” My hopes were worn thin, however my eyes were fixated on the door to the carousel. I wasn’t allowed to be in the airport for security reasons, but I found a window from the parking lot and watched intensely. Here comes the first bag, BANG!!!!!, IT”S ONE OF MY BOX’S!!!!!, then another, and finally the 3rd. I could immediately see that they had been opened, and inspected. They were re-sealed with blue & white security tape. “Thank God, I don’t care if they have just the tapes, please, just the tapes, every thing else will be a bonus”. I mounted the 3 grande caha’s (big box’s) on a particularly small taxi and my driver sped through the old streets of Cartagena, blaring salsa, and playing drums on the dash board. It seemed as if he was trying to knock my box’s loose, but just after midnight we arrived at Club Nautico without incident. I tore the Box’s apart with a vengeance, “WHERE ARE MY TAPES”! Wouldn’t you know they would be in the last box, “Thanks Murphy”. After further inspection I realized everything was there, even the co2 cartridges that I wasn’t supposed to bring on the plane. Why is that, every life vest on the plane has the same cartridges, why is it illegal to transport your own, the plane is pressurized? Do they think it might have a poisonous gas in them or something? Who cares, I made it back to Columbia with my 3 grande cahas, all is well now.