Jaco - Costa Rica

So apparently my luck was not as good as I made it out to be in my previous post. I say this because the job that I said I had, the one I so arrogantly boasted about attaining doing virtually nothing, yeah well, it kinda fell through. And, by fell through I mean I never really got it apparently. I called the boat owner, who sounded excited to have me aboard and gave me instructions to call the captain to make arrangements and a schedule. I did as told, but for four days, all I got was his answering machine. Then, when I tried to call the owner back he didn´t answer my calls either. That, coupled with my regrets about agreeing to be a bar manager for a local Mexican restaurant (essentially the same job I fled from back in the States) gave me enough reason to pack up my bag on a Thursday morning and catch the early bus out of town, leaving any an all obligations in my wake. So, finally, after two and a half weeks, I said goodbye to Tamarindo, without much to show for it.

I decided to head back to Jaco, the infamous town chronicled in an earlier blog as a prostitute and drug infested shit hole. You might be asking yourself, why would I, with all the amazing destinations in Costa Rica, select this one, and, it is indeed a good question, but I had my reasons. Playa Herradura, a town just 2km to the north of Jaco is home to the exclusive Marriott resort and Los Suenos, the biggest Marina in Costa Rica. I had received word that most of the countries charter fishing comes out of this dock and it would be the best place to seek employment.

After landing in Jaco in the early afternoon, I checked into the Hostel de Hann which turned out to be a great place. Complete with cheap clean rooms, a communal kitchen set on an outdoor terrace overlooking a small private pool, and FREE INTERNET! This place had all the extras needed for survival in this otherwise sad town. Plus, the people staying here were really cool and I made some friends right away. We all ended up socializing on the terrace after dinner and sampling the bar scene later on that night.

I awoke late the following morning and headed out to Los Suenos on an outbound public bus. This turned to be a mistake, as it took over an hour and a half to reach Herradura (remember, only 2km away) due to frequent stops to pickup (what seemed like) every middle schooler in Central America, as they headed home for lunch. So, close to midday I got off at the resort´s gated entry and walked 1.5km to the Marina.

Now, I am by no means an expert on maritime nor have I seen many Marinas, but Los Suenos has got to be one of the premier fishing destinations in the world if not the universe. Costa Rica is often considered one of the best locations for sportfishing and this seemed to attract the elitists of the sport. Every slip, and there were over 200 of them, was occupied by a boat worth well over a million dollars, some much, much more. An average day trip on one of these vessles cost somewhere in the neighborhood of $1,000. Some of the best and most coveted fishing tournaments are held here each year earning it the reputation as the British Open of sportfishing. In a word, it was serious fishing for serious fishermen. I guess that´s seven words.

So image then, that a groggy-eyed, scruffy faced gringo, lobster-red and soaked in sweat from walking in the midday sun, comes panting up to your 3 million dollar Sunsetter mumbling something about wanting a job though he´s never worked on a boat before and could only do it for a week or so on account of having to meet up with his friend who was flying in to San Jose. Samuel L. Jackson would have a better chance at joining the KKK then I did of cracking in on one of these outfits. The funny thing is, I knew it, but I still persisted because I thought, if anything, it would be good to see what they were looking for and how much they paid. That would be a challenge in itself since the guards, seeing that I was not a person of affluence, wouldn´t even let me down on the dock for the first hour saying I needed to get someone to vouch for me first. Eventually, I was able to use my backpack as collateral and was given a pass and the illustriously opportunity to grace there platforms and talk with some captains.

I did interview on one boat, a 45 foot Yacht called the High Tide out of Incest Alabama or Roadkill South Carlina or some place like that. The captain was nice enough, and was indeed looking for help, but he wanted a deckhand with experience, a six month commitment, and a resume, non of which I could give him.

I stopped in at a charter office on my way out and asked the guy behind the counter if he knew anyway I could get on a boat for a week just to learn how to crew. He laughed in my face and told me that I needed six to eight months on a boat to really learn how to work a fishing boat and that I couldnt' learn anything in a week. He then launched into a pre-rehearsed speech about the idiosyncrasies of ocean fishing and how one has to have a vast amount of knowledge about boats, fish, and the ocean before even asking to be let on a charter. He then informed me that most of the mates at this marina had gone to the maritime academy to get there positions, showing that they were "really dedicated to the art of sportfishing."

I had to hold myself back from laughing as I walked back to the bus stop. I am fly fisherman and indeed believe in the subtle nuances of baiting, hooking, and landing a prise fish, but this guy was trying to turn paint by numbers into a Rembrandt. I coudn't tell if he was serious or if he was just trying to take the piss out of me. I hope it was the later because anyone who thinks that you need a PHD in Aero Science to put a little plastic thing with a hook in the water, drag it behind a boat where ever your GPS tells you to and drink beer until you hear the line snap forward has been out in the Costa Rican sun too long. Yet, then again, I can't knock it to much, seeing as that I have been trying, without much success I might add, to get a job doing just that.

So, with no possibility of employment and nothing tying me to Jaco, I think I´ll leave the hot sunny beaches for a few days and cool off in the chilly highlands and await my friends arrival at the end of the week.