Jinja Island: The Boat/Transit

Don’t let that idyllic photo fool you. This boat is a piece of shit.

That photo is the equivalent a short, homely, dishonest man’s Tinder profile picture – not a complete fake, but a pic from the best possible angle, with the best possible lighting, in the best possible scenario, with a great filter slapped on it – meant to lure in the unwary.

Actually, I shouldn’t disparage the entire boat. The hull is serviceable. I think it’s about as old as I am, though I hope I’m holding together a bit better. It was originally a ski boat. If you know the model, write in for bonus points. The current motor is the villain here – a ’99 70hp Mercury outboard. Saltwater years should be measured like dog-years. That thing needs to be put down.

Which is what Mario, the mangrove mechanic, basically said two days after Graham left me on his island. Muerto. That’s what Mario said when he dropped by Jinja to take a better look. But just in case, he towed it back to his mangrove bat cave to tinker with when he has nothing actually productive to do. Maybe Mario can become the Dr. Frankenstein of ’99 Mercuries.

So here is how this boat “worked”, when it actually worked. First, the tilt doesn’t work. So if you want to raise or lower the motor (which is important if you understand saltwater), you have to actually spark the tilt mechanism on the motor  directly from the battery, which is a car battery sitting a foot away, in no housing whatsoever. Yes, a lot like hotwiring.

Second, the starter is out. So, to start this bitch, you have to remove the cowling from the motor, wrap a rope around the drive head, and pull the shit out, gripping a deck cleat tied to the end of that rope. Yeah. But hey, once you are used to it, no big deal.

That’s what was going on with this boat when it was “working” – before the trip to Mario’s place described in my first Jinja entry. It also didn’t seem to be consuming fuel efficiently – that was the reason to have it looked at – the tilt and the starter were old news. It wasn’t even burning well enough to plane off, so we were plowing through the water at a pitiful pace on what trips we made.

I will say this though – Mario pronouncing it dead was a blessing in two ways. I stopped worrying about what I’d do when the boat shit the bed on me, because it already had. Also, it made the proposition of going into Bocas Town (or anywhere else) much less convenient, which makes my goal of reading and writing that much more attainable.

Cheers, piece of shit boat (motor - sorry, boat hull).

Now I just call Ariel when I need a ride - $25 a pop, which really is quite reasonable when you think about it (map still to come, dammit).