Mozambiqued
when i was in malaysia, i met this guy named steve. steve was a dive master at coral sky divers on palau perhentian kecil. he had all these really fun hand signals for stuff you'd see underwater.
he would mime disrobing and that would mean "nudibranch." he would pretend to shoot you; that meant "trigger fish."
we ended up getting to be friends. he's about my age, a scouse (from liverpool) and a souse and a roustabout. he had been a businessman, but he chucked it to travel around diving. when i was there he got his monthly paycheck. it was negative since he'd spent it all on booze. trying to roll one, the gum on the paper fails him time and again. he looks at the pack disparagingly, sighs and curses softly, "muslims."
a couple of years after that, steve came through san francisco on his way to australia. he needed to buy some video gear and a camera housing because he'd decided to be a dive videographer. i told him he could crash.
he landed on september 10th, 2001. the next morning i woke him up after my dad called to say planes were flying into the world trade center.
we spent that week together, watching a lot of tv and talking about america. his flight out was one of the first regularly scheduled ones to be cleared to leave.
he worked in oz for a bit, then in palau, and then in mozambique. he and i emailed every so often. kept in touch. wrote about women, and trying to stay out of the office, and adventures.
the other day i sent him an email about palau, where bartlebee and i are thinking about honeymooning. he wrote back from london where he is now earning some dosh (as he says). he had great tips on palau and is going to try to hook us up with a special deal on a week live aboard dive tour. said the people he worked for were royal cunts and steered us in other directions.
he also mentioned that he's back in london to raise funds to start a SCUBA travel/conservation business in mozambique.
ahem.
i've got a friend starting a SCUBA travel/conservation business in mozambique.
i asked him if he needed any help.
'cause after mornings like today, where i'm slammed and on hold and faxing and stuck behind a desk...
mozambique.
that's in africa. on the south east coast.
me and bartlebee and cap'n steve, drinking whatever passes for booze in mozambique, watching the clouds turn purple over a soothing sea after spending the day diving. looking out towards madagascar and listening to the insects get keyed up for the darkness.
or faxing tax exempt statements to LA hotels for edit sessions while holding with the bank.
you choose.
bartlebee dreams about catching the right train. i just hope i'm fast enough to jump aboard when it hurtles by.
That would be cool. Don't forget to bring your six-foot bong, dude.
you know, if you guys are so hot on trains making your dreams come true, there's this polar express movie that you could see...