2003

CLAUDIO

So it’s ’03 and I’m in the delightful anchorage of Portobello, Panama, completely captivated with the idea that my plan for a 10’ nesting, planning, hard dinghy was going to provide me with, perhaps not riches, but at least the financial security of not having to drag my aging butt through the bilges of folks who didn’t know their ass from their elbow about their own boats. The prototype was complete, I’d built it in Portobello in a room I’d rented from a very nice family. It was beautiful, had lovely lines, kind of heavy, but it was just a prototype after all and best of all went like a scalded cat with the old $300 Yamaha 9.9 I’d bought from another boater I met and later became friends with in the San Blas Is a few mths before. It was probably the subsequent friendship that made me feel guilty about the purchase, you see there’s a fair ly well known problem with an older Yamaha, the brass main jets are soft and with the passage of fuel over time enlarge. To fix it you remove the main jet and insert the individual strands of small gauge copper wire into the venture one by one until it runs sweet. It’s time consuming, but what the hell I was in the San Blas Is where time takes on a liquid quality anyway, you know you’re cruising successfully when you don’t know the date or day of the week, cruising spectacularly when you don’t know the month. I’ve only managed that a few times. Back to the motor I’d put it on the dinghy and right away knew it was running rich, once out of sight of my future friend I crimped the fuel line closed with my hand the motor sped right up, I knew a winner was just a couple of hours away. The prototype was a cathedral hull, more radical than a Boston Whaler and went around corners like on squirrel on speed, didn’t even try to slide or dig in a chine, just turns harder and harder until you know it’ll cheerfully spit you into the water and continue to turn circles until the prop chews you up. I’m fantasizing about production and marketing techniques and overlooking the fact that I know nothing about molded fiberglass products or how to mold them, much less build the molds.

For years I’d heard about an Italian, Claudio, in Cartagena, Colombia, who’s been building drug boats forever out of, yep, fiberglass, I had to find this dude and get a crash course. As Christmas was almost upon us Indira, my Panamanian lady friend, taught English in a school in Portabello, her vacation was a month long and her kids were spending it with their father. She was reluctant to go to Colombia, funny relationship between Colombians and Panamanians, 100 yrs prior it’d all been one country, Colombia, until the USA wanted to dig the Canal through the isthmus. Historically the USA hasn’t treated Central and South America all that kindly over the years, so a USA sponsored a revolution and Panama was born. Try not to mention it to Panamanians, they’re a little touchy about their origins. Whatever you do don’t mention United Fruit to the Mayans in Guatamala. So I loaded up the prototype and resolved to spend Christmas through New Years in the San Blas Is, wouldn’t get anything done that time of year in Cartagena anyway. I was cheerfully chilling and spearfishing in the SBIs when up rolls Valhalla with a boatload of backpackers and captained by my crazy friend Dennis, he’s been humping backpackers between Portabello and Cartagena, keeps the price $10 less than airfare and gives them 3 – 4 days in the SBIs. But what caught my eye was the tiny woman waving at me from the foredeck, damn that looks just like Indira I thought, I needed binoculars to verify it (this aging thing is just not going all that well) so I dinghied over and got her out of Dennis’s lecherous clutches, he’s a friend, so I know him pretty well. She’d regretting passing on the trip to Cartagena and knew I’d fly her back for school, got a passport, packed a bag and now we both had company for the holidays. Cool, besides my Spanish is really not good and now I have a trained translator and helper. It’s about 200 mi upwind to Cartagena, but the gods are kind to us and we don’t get too beat up. We anchor off Club Nautico and dinghied in to begin our search for Claudio. It took even Indira’s flawless Spanish a couple of days before we found out where his factory was and how to bus there. I should mention the other thing I knew about Claudio, he hates Americans, won’t work for them or deal with them in any way including learning or speaking English, he’s a naval architect, ex-cruiser and has been building boats for 10 yrs, 2/3 of his production go to the narco trafficantes and 1/3 to the Colombian Navy, so his boats are chasing each other up and down the Caribbean, well, mostly up. He’s about 30 min by bus outside Cartagena, we arrive and in my best awful Spanish I introduce ourselves, explain that I’d heard about him for 5 yrs and outline what I hope to do and that I need instruction on fiberglass production technics, also that I fully intended to pay for my education. Claudio listened very patiently and asked slowly and quietly, so I would understand “Where are you from in the USA?” I replied “I’m from Toronto, Canada.” Huge smile as he said “OK, when do you want to start?” he said “Well, first we need to get the prototype here.” I explained “That’s easy I’ll be at Club Nautico at 8 am tomorrow to pick up a damaged inflatable RIB, we can put them in my truck.” He casually stated. I thanked him profusely and promised to be ready. Man, we’re off to a flying start.

Day one starts just like planned and pretty soon Claudio is inspecting the prototype in his factory, I’m in awe at its size, but there are only 6 workers and 3 boats in the place. Claudio explains that at one time the place was running 24 hrs 6 days aweek and there were always 6 boats to 45’ under construction, but the USA War On Drugs has successfully imposed a $4,000 spending limit on purchases before permission is sought, plus they are supplying the Colombian Navy with boats, he’s been put out of business. His last drug boat is a 45’ deep V centre console with a cuddy cabin that’ll hold 2 metric tons of product, you know what product, below the floor it’s one big fuel tank feeding 4 200 hp Yamaha 2 strokes. He’s guaranteed a minimum speed of 39 kts fully loaded with fuel, product and a crew of 2. He delivers the boat 2 wks later and the following day receives a call that they can’t get it past 34 kts “Does no one there know how to drive a boat? Or are they just scared of going fast.” he asks. So he heads out with a portable GPS and drives the boat at 34 kts the boat gets a little squirrely, but he trims it up and it flattens out and hits 43 kts with a crew of 4, hard to deny 800 hp. Another happy customer. Claudio graciously accepts the apologies of all concerned and heads back.

So now we’re being taught by the master, he first gets us to repair all the minor imperfections then we start waxing, 8 – 12 coats, buffing out each coat before reapplying more. Indira and I are putting 8 hr days, with an hour off for lunch at his favorite seafood restaurant, I believe owned by a relative of his wife, no money ever changes hands and Claudio won’t let me pay for anything that we or his workers eat or drink. “Claudio, I didn’t come here to take the bread from your mouth.” I protest. “Don’t worry you’ll get your chance.” Is the cool reply. In reality all I ever get to do is buy all of us beers at the end of the day. After the 1st week Claudio approves of Indira and my efforts and gets his workers to start building the molds, which they’ve clearly done before. “Claudio, I came to learn, not to get you to use your men, they’re not free.” I reason “Actually they are, the last 2 boats in here are for a tour company and they’ve stopped making progress payments, so we stop work until more money comes. I have to pay them anyway, they need to work for their wages or they’ll be spoiled.” He returns. “But I want to learn the technics too.” “Good, go help them”

Needless to say we had a finished hull out of the molds pretty fast, just as well, working with fiberglass sucks, Indira and I fitted out the interior and painted it, it was ready to be splashed. It was still heavy at 145 lbs, but we reasoned that if it made it to production foam between the hull and dinghy floor interior liner, a la Boston whaler, would save a lot a lot of weight while adding a lot of stiffness. Now it was time to pay the man who had become my seriously good friend. “Claudio, you hate talking about what I owe you and it has to be more than beer.” I state firmly. “OK, OK, you owe me $200.” He says after a few minutes of thought. “That’s ridiculous, there’s more than $200 in materials alone, not to mention labor and lunches.” I’m trying for indignant. “ Nope, $200, that’s it, besides what do you know about material costs in Colombia?” He states briefly. “OK, I’m giving you $200, but I’m divideing up another $300 between your men, but I’d rather you do it for me.” I try “God, don’t do that, I won’t see them for a month.” Now he’s whining. “Ok, take the $500” never had that much trouble giving money away before.

We trucked the dinghy to Club Nautico leaving the molds with Claudio until I could figure out how to get them to Trinidad. I got the first ride, Claudio second, he pronounced it adequate. The dinghy that everyone had heard about was an instant hit, no one actually bought one but everyone tried it, most came back white faced as they couldn’t believe it wouldn’t slide through a turn and ignored my warning about tight turns. No kill switch lanyard on that old Yamaha either. The final outcome of my production career is another story. George and Thalia

“If I’m lyin…”