a night out with the international crew and Ricky from the hotel

I took Ricky who works at the hotel out to all you can eat tapas last night. We met up with a small group of people that I met the night before. Joseph was from England, Amy was from South Africa, and there was another guy who was from Italy I think. I forget his name but a cool guy nontheless. They just came from Laos and will be in Bali for another few days and then they are off to Darwin, Australia where they plan on picking fruit for the next six months. Jesus! The night ended in a neighboring alley at a small shop called 'Green Box' with a tray of Arakin front of us, which is a seriously strong liquor similar to ouzo, my favorite licorice liquor. The shots were only .50 u.s. and we each had 5 or 6. I tried to read when I got back to the hotel but I was a mess. Today I had a motorbike guy take me to Denpasar so I could buy some hand carved picture frames. I stopped off at a vespa restoration shop on the way back and shot a video for Drews of the ghetto restoration process. They purchase Thai repop parts for the bikes. I asked him about the difference between Indian parts and Thai and he said Indian is junk and the Thai is licensed by Piaggio. The finished product is very, very nice. A completely restored '60's vespa is under 2k u.s. shipped to Los Angeles. That is very cheap. I have a few other odds and ends to buy before heading out to Poppies to sell my board and pack up for the flight to Jakarta in the a.m. One night there and two in Saigon and I'm back in good ol' U.S. of A.

drunk australians like fire

I was in Billabong across from my hotel, upstairs, on the couch in front of the big screen tv they have set up and snapped a photo of the row of boards. I was foaming. In the evening one of the employees puts on a recent billabong flick with the directors audio on so I sit my ass down like it's my living room and watch. They don't seem to mind at all. Actually, they come up one at a time and hang out. The boards with the artwork were at another shop and they reminded me of Ross' Morgans painted boards so I snapped a photo of them. He did a shipwreck series one year which was very cool. The two vespas were just on the street. The red one was a piece of crap but the painted one was nuts. This guy had a matching helmet for himself and his kid! There are a few shops here with nicely painted vespas in the display windows. I'll try to get a shot of those if I can. The vid is of the fire dancer guys in front of the restaurant I was at. Most of the nicer restaurants along Legian Road hire this crew to swing fiery ropes around. Without fail, some drunk Australian guy will come up and try to grab one of the flaming ends. The flame guys hate this and I saw one of them hit a guy with an end. I had to get a shot of them. I have a few more days here and then off to Jakarta for a night, two days in Saigon and back to sunny California. I'm thinking LaSelva Beach. I am really missing Northern California. Where from there? I have no idea and that is a nice way to live for now.

I am having motorcycle withdrawls.

I am missing my motorcycle. I love this photo.

...and I thought my old job had management issues!

This Kartika Plaza Hotel place is brutal! I saw this sign on the door leading to the personnel department. Damn. I guess if you are willing to submit to a rectal swab at work, you certainly aren't going to complain about some overtime or working weekends. Good way to weed out the troublemakers! I shot over to the Plaza again last night to catch the beach screening of 'A Fly in the Champagne', the new Irons surf movie but my damn hotel didn't fix the clock after the last power outage so I was an hour late and the movie was an hour long. Plus it rained on my the whole ride over. Still, I'm in Bali so no big deal. I went out to the beach anyway to see if there was anything going on and they were setting up a balinese rockabilly band on the beach. The lead singer was one of the Kuta lifeguards, I was told. I did like that a little kid jumped up on stage and danced thru a couple songs and the singer ended up picking the kid up and telling him to get off the stage. That was funny. So much for family fun. I got to talking to two girls who I recognized from the night before at 'The Drifter' premier. Tara and Ray. They had led the beach yoga before the movie. I asked how that went and they said nobody showed but the orphans that came for the movie. The hotel must have kicked all the orphans out after the film because I didn't see one orphan walking around. They girls were really funny and we had a good laugh. Hopefully I'll run into them Saturday at the Matt Archibold documentary. Ray has sarcastic humor that I really like. My mother and Carlos have the same dark wit. H-bomb does too. But then he shows you the duct tape and carpet in his trunk and the joke has gone too far. Anyway, they gave me a lift down to Poppies and I walked up to the hotel and ordered the Nasi Champur, a Mi Goreng and a melon drink, posted up in the hotel and read half of Gorky Park and one quarter of The Exorcist III. Exciting! Or not. The Macho Man is a powder that they sell where I get my melon drink. I like that it says 'top instant'. HA! How much is that?

The surf is small but the surf movies are good.

It turns out my illness was due to bad noodles and sauce, not deadly mosquitos. That's a relief. Last night was a good time. I got a pass to the screening of the Steele/Machado film 'The Drifter', which was run at the Kartika Plaza Hotel. It was a very nice affair with jim beam served before and after. There was no q and a but I was able to corner Taylor Steele after and pick his brain for a while. On my way over I took a photo of my favorite surfer, Kassia Meador, wrapped on a quicksilver delivery van. I bought a pass to the screening of her new film, 'Dear and Yonder' for the end of the week there at the Kartika. I also got a shot of a custom gas tank off of a rigid triumph that was parked on the side of the road. I would have taken a shot of the whole bike but the owner's friend decided to jump on and tear ass down the street. I was late for the show so I took off after the tank photo. That ran till 10pm. I caught a ride on a motorbike back to the hotel and dug into some Nasi Champur and the new Mario Puzo book I just traded the Dumas book for. Tonight the film 'Fly in the Champagne' is screening on the beach for free at 9 so on comes the deet and off I go. I'll catch a surf at dusk, come back for the usual dinner and hitch a ride over to the show.

Off to Lombok and really, really good waves

So anyways, I had to split because at that moment I was going to sit or heave. Pick one. I shot back to the room, took an immodium and a tradol, laid down and pulled a little shao-lin don't puke focusing. Don't move a muscle cause the medicine will come up and we'll be at square one again. I woke up a few minutes ago and was able to walk here without any stomach drama. I hope it was just the greasy chicken carbonara I ate last night topped off with a chocolate and a vanilla shake. I'm crossing my fingers. So last we spoke I was just getting my debit card sorted out. I had purchased my earplugs and the guys at the hotel gave me a ocean and earth boardbag that fits the 6'2" I bought used. I had to get a new plastic zipper put on but that $5 saved me $40 off of a new one. I picked up a new long sleeve rash guard off of Poppies also. I saw something cool at the Hurley store, where I stopped to look for the earplugs. Little Scott Stopnik was posted up on the wall in an art exhibit they put together on the second floor. I took a photo for ya. I told one of the girls who works there I knew him and she gave me a kiss. HA! Nice to see someone I know here even if it is just a photo. Carito had called the hotel the night before and told one of the three guys at reception that she would be arriving the next night so I waited for her to see if she wanted to shoot out to Lombok by rickety auto ferry and on to Kuta Lombok by mini-bus. She showed up and was all for it. As long as she was back by the 17th to split Bali to meet her guy somewhere, she was on board. We hit Legian street, which is the other main drag that cuts across Poppies II to make a reservation for the ferry and for pickup the next morning at 6:30 a.m. Got the pickup with no snags. We were driven in a cramped 8 person rickety minivan to the nearest port and waited on the street with a crowd of about 600 people for the ferry to start boarding. I didn't sleep very well the night before so I wanted to try to get a sleeping berth from one of the ferry crew. I had heard a rumour that I could ask anyone in a uniform for a berth and they would rent their own bunk out to you for a small fee. There was a big crowd forming on the dock as the ferry dropped it's roll-on auto ramp. Carito is a charger so she jumped into the middle of it waving our tickets and as they decided who was going to board this grossly overloaded ferry, she cajoled her way past the crowd and freaked the gate guy out with her broken columbian/english. She got thru and somehow I shimmied past all these yelling people and made it thru the gate, up the haggard looking auto ramp and up into the gaping maw where they park the cars. I felt like I wasn't doing my part so I hit up the guy for the berth and he led us up to the wheelhouse deck and into a 4 berth cabin. 100,000 rupiah was his first offer. Carito stepped up, being the brutal negotiator that she is and got it knocked down to 50,000 rupiah, or $5. We each had a bunk to ourselves plus two to spare so of course, she bolted out to try and sublet the other two. She dragged two super hot French girls in to look at the cabin but they balked so I calmed her down and told her to look at the bright side. At least if the ferry rolls over, it will be a quick death for us. Everyone else was piled upon each other in the aisleways and on anything they could stretch out on. It was wild. They would be tossed into the sea and devoured by sharks. We always had the chance of getting Poseidon on it. I would play the part of Ernest Borgnine, of course. So we got comfortable and woke up 4 hours later sweating and half boiled alive from the humidity in the cabins. The ferry arrived in port and we were off to find our shuttle to Kuta Lombok, another 2 hour ride across the island. During the ride we got to talking to a New Zealand couple who were on vacation from their boutique winery. Rough life. Very nice people and they had the same list of hotels we had so we searched the small town of Kuta Lombok together for pair of rooms or a room to share since every place was booked solid for the next week. We finally found a place called Kens Hotel. They were willing to rent us the employee quarters. Dirty but accomodation nonetheless. There was only one and of course Carito was first to the desk and had the transaction on lock within moments at a reasonable price. The New Zealanders were assed out by the other crowd that arrived in a shuttle moments before. We offered to split the room with them and they accepted. After a moment getting settled, the hotel opened up one of their nicer rooms for them so they hopped on that and we continued on in the employee quarters. That night the New Zealanders came out to dinner with us. We found a place called Lombok Cafe, right on the beach where they offered a Baracudda steak with all the fixins for 45,000 rupiah. Needless to say I ate that all three nights we were there. It was cooked with some special indo bar-b-q sauce that I could have bottled and sold at home. A few Bintangs and we hit the hay, ready to go exploring by motorbike the next day. The morning found Carito dashing across the street to see if there was any accomodation available at a little homestay/cottage we had been turned away from. Of course, she weaseled us in and we had a very nice room with hot shower and flushing toilet for 22,000 per night with bannana pancake breakfast included. We moved our stuff, rented a motorbike and we were off thru the Lombok hills towards a beach called Mawun. It turned out to be a picture perfect bay with a right and a left on each side of the opening. Not working that day but we were told by some Germans we met who were off surfing around that the next beach, Maui, was hitting and was good. It was getting late so we decided to head back to town and to hit Maui in the morning. We did that and oh shit. Look at the video. I wish I would have had everyone there with me. It was a solid swell so only the left was working but I saw during the smaller sets that on a smaller swell, there was a head high peak that rolled in with a perfect right and left bowler peeling right into the bay. The rights on the other side of the opening to the bay weren't working due to the tide but they were large and breaking a bit like San Ono on a really, really big day. Spent most of the day there and then back down the road towards town. It's a 40 minute ride from Kuta Lombok to Maui beach. The road is half paved, half dirt rutted from ox carts and totally dangerous. I didn't take this road at night but I guarantee someone has died taking one of the hills too fast. There are ruts, water buffalo, chickens, rabid dogs, monkeys, giant rocks, giant holes, and super steep inclines and declines. Add an incredible view everywhere you look and it's almost impossible to keep your eyes peeled for either one of those animals bolting out of the bushes to take you out or riding into a hole large enough to stop you dead in your tracks. Another think I noticed is these Indonesians live way way way below any poverty line we might draw. When we stopped the motorbike for a photo, little kids would come out and ask for water, not money. Every little village we passed thru, groups of kids would gather and wave as we rolled in and out. Everyone smiling and wanting to share the english words they know. Certainly the nicest and friendliest country I have ever been to. We made it back to the hotel just before nightfall and ran over to the restaurant where they have the incredible barracuda dinner. We caught a beautiful sunset, drank our share of Bintangs and took a cruise down the coast for an hour or so towards the largest hotel in town, Novatel Resort. This place is really well designed. Almost like a Gaudi sculpture. Full of spires and high peaked thatch buildings, temples around all of the bungalows..very nicely done. On the road I would get behind a slow moving truck or bike and kill our lights so other than the lights ahead of us, it was pitch black aside from the stars above. More stars here than on a good night in the desert. Breathtaking sky and you could hear the surf pounding on the shore. After an hour of cruising around on the motorbike, we headed back to the hotel. I had purchased the dvd's Ulu 32 and Bruno from Kuta Bali and Carito wanted to see Bruno but we didn't have a dvd or tv in our room. There was one in the hang out area at the hotel reception. We took the video up front and it was packed with all of the backpackers and tourists. There was a long table that seated about 15 people that everyone was sitting at with the dvd setup on a bookcase right at the head of the table. I asked everyone if they minded that I put on a movie and nobody seemed to care. There were about 4 french and spanish girls, 5 german guys, 4 french guys and the whole family who owned the hotel sitting around. I went up and fiddled with the wires, got the dvd in the player and hit play. I took a seat right up front and Carito sat beside and behind me a bit. I hit the volume to drown out the guy playing guitar and oh shit. I haven't been so freaking uncomfortable in a very, very long time. The movie is one step away from a gay porno. At one point it was full frontal dong for about 10 seconds on the screen and I could only guess what the French and Spanish girls were saying as they rushed out irate and swearing in their native languages. These people weren't expecting this. It was so funny, I died laughing when we made it back to the room after it was over. On a side note, the germans loved it. I'm not surprised. That was our last night and we were picked up at 9:30am by the shuttle to take us to the ferry and the ride back to Kuta Bali. We got a lot of icy stares when we were paying our bill. I ended up giving the dvd to the germans. HA! Figures.

this is how long you can sit when you feel like shit

Before I get into the gory details I must share some of the dreams I have been having. I think it's due to the deet mosquito repellent I rub into myself morning, night and afternoon. Either way the dreams I am having are wild and so vivid, I wake up and wonder if it was real or not. The latest was great. I was outside of a house in a neighborhood just south of Trask on Beach Blvd. in Westminster, CA, where I live. I was standing with some people in the front yard and two indonesian guys came up and asked if I wanted to buy some cocaine. I said no and turned to the people I was standing with and told them I suspected it was guys sent by the Westminster P.D. trying to set me up. I split from that place and next I'm riding up to a bar on the Kill Yourself pan/shovel. I'm going to throw up right now so I will have to continue this later. Ok I'm back. So a group of guys pulls up on their newer bikes and I tell the bouncer, who is standing outside that I suspect it's the P.D. again and start rolling my bike back to split. The new guys ride up and take offense to this and block my way with their bikes. One guy gets off and grabs my arms from behind and the other guy steps up in front of me. I reach back and pluck out the eye of the guy behind me and then reach forward and do the same to the other guy. They lie writhing on the ground in the parking lot as I back my bike out and split. THEN I'm standing on a street with Drews and a 1960's Customline van pulls up, faded blue, and stops on the street. The side barndoors open and it is packed with the about 6 of the Hells Angels from all of the Roth Posters. Buzzard, etc. Buzzard jumps out and gives Drews a hug and pulls him into the van where I watch them all talk for a while. Drews then jumps out and pulls me up to the van. He says that the Pres has some words of advice for me. I look in and George Christie is sitting there among the older Angels from the posters. He motions me to jump in and I do. He looks me square in the face and tells me "Next time get some punches in. You pluck a guys eye out and it's all over. Where's the fun in that?" I agree and get out. I woke up thinking, "shit, did I poke a guys eye out last night?" I can usually trace my dreams to things that happened to me the previous days. I was wishing I could find a copy of the Deadwood series in Saigon so that takes care of popping the guys eyes out. I also came across a Vietnamese guy in the backpacker area who was totally covered in tattoos. I asked him if I could take a photo with him for posterity. He agreed and when I looked on his back, I was stunned. He's got no idea what the tattoo means at home. To him, he's just saying 'screw society'. That's only one of many really cool dreams I have had. Probably pretty boring to the reader but they are so vivid, I actually feel like I was in the van talking to these guys. It's crazy. The brain is so cool.

the battle with citibank operators

The next few days are spent walking around Kuta trying to get Carito straightened out with her diving trip she is taking, hanging out on the beach and trying to kick the ear infection. The ringing is unbearable and the pain is painful. Still, I am in Bali. So Carito gets dialed in to head up to Northern Bali where she is meeting a guy so while sitting on the beach I strike up a conversation with a guy from the Santa Cruz area who is here surfing and he tells me what I need to know to get the ferry over to Lombok and off to Lakey Peak, where I plan on staying for a while. Talk to some people there and maybe head to Timor. Well, cancel that. Carito is getting her stuff together and I can't for the life of me find my goddamned debit card. WTF? I just had it. I never put it down, ever. It is always in my back pocket. I value that thing more than my passport! Well, it's not here. I still have my credit card as backup, thank god. Carito and I head over to the local bank and I'll be damned if the freaking card didn't expire in 2006! I never use it and haven't ever looked at the...ah forget it. I cut that thing in half and I talked Carito into spending her last night getting me sorted out with her Skype account. Making a call here is totally expensive-.80-1.00 per minute and I know that calling Citibank is going to take a while. We got over to the internet cafe and I how wonderful! I connected right away with a helpful and caring Citibank operator who understood my plight and truly wanted to help! Oh happy day. Carito wisely brought along the card for the hotel so I gave the hotel address, phone number and even the hotel owners email address to the operator and she assured me that a new card was being sent out right then! She would personally put it in the mail and it would be there by Thursday. It was Monday night. Well, I checked my pockets and I still had about 11 bucks in Rupiah so hell. No problem. A couple days posted up in the room, eat cheap. No beers. I can wait it out. Carito offered to loan me some cash but I put up my hand and proudly declined. I can wait a couple days. She was off in the morning and I did the usual. Off to the small cafe down the street for a bannana pancake and some strong coffee. About 4 bucks. That leaves me 7 bucks. Have a 3 buck dinner and I'm down to 4 bucks. One day to go. Thursday comes. And Thursday goes. No card and not nearly enough money left to make a call to Citibank. The three guys that work at the desk are aware of my delimma so they offer to pick up some dinner when they go to get there own. The usual meal here morning, afternoon, and night is either nasi goreng: spicy rice with a small bit of chicken, mi goreng: spicy noodles with a small bit of chicken or nasi champur, my personal favorite: rice with some sauce, bit of chicken and a small piece of tofu. Sometimes you get a little piece of eggplant if a piece accidentally gets caught up with the other stuff as the cook puts it together. The meal is wrapped up in a folded piece of construction paper and you eat with your hands. Mi goreng costs 5k rupiah, or 50 cents, nasi champur costs 75 rupiah, or 75 cents. I got down with the nasi champur. I also bought a can of melon juice with a rhinocerous on it. It tastes exactly like fresh honeydew melon. There is a photo of both. Well, Friday passes. I get one meal. Saturday passes. I get one meal. Sunday passes. I get one meal. Still no card. I pool all of my money and I have just over one dollar left. I head out to the internet cafe and get the number for Citibank. I then go to a couple local vendors and find one who will let me use their phone to call a toll free number. The next ten minutes I spent trying to convince the citibank employee that I was on a borrowed phone and she had typed my password in wrong, transposing two letters. If I could have reached thru the phone, I swear to god. I finally convinced the lady and she put me on hold. What? AAAAAAAAH! All the while the phone's owner is trying to get me to give her the phone back but I am almost there. They are going to tell me where the card is! Almost there! 5 minutes later the lady gets back on the phone to tell me that the address I gave her was incorrect and that UPS tried twice to deliver but could not. "Where is the card now?", I ask. "I don't know", she replies. "What do I do now?", I ask. "I can't tell you", she replies. I'm beside myself at this point. After I explain to her what a shitty situation I am in, she asks me if I want the tracking number. No. I don't want any possible solution to my problem. What's wrong with you lady? I get that out of her and hang up. I hand the phone back to the lady, who is visibly upset. I thank her profusely and make my way back to the internet cafe. 30 cents to use the internet long enough to get the address of UPS in Denpasar, where my card MIGHT be. No dinner that night. Monday morning rolls around and I head out to the road to get a motorbike driver to take me to the Denpasar office. Problem is I only have 10,000 rupiah left, or $1.00. It's past the airport and when I got here, it cost me 3 bucks just to get into town from there one way. I'm needing a round trip ticket here. I finally find a guy who is willing to take me. I don't think he knows how far it is and if I get the card from this office, which is no guarantee, I plan on kicking this guy some extra. Can't make that promise, though. This is my last buck. Were off and 30 minutes later we pull up to the UPS office. Up to the counter and I show my tracking number. The lady shrugs her shoulders and walks into the back. I follow her to the doorway and watch as she digs into a big pile of boxes. I'm looking for a credit card here. After a few minutes she reaches the bottom of the pile and pulls out an envelope with my name on it! Bastard! I have a look and the stupid Citibank operator didn't put the complete address. Whatever. I take out the card and try it in the closest atm. Nope. A second atm. No dice. It seems I need to call citibank to get it activated. I just have to laugh. I ask the guy to take me back to the lady with the phone. I'm leaving it up to her. If she says yes, ok. I get the card activated. No, I break the fcuking thing go sell my surfboard and my ipod on the street. We get back and the lady is in a great mood and hands the phone over to me! Nice! I get Citibank on the phone and again, with the password! Just activate the damn card so I can go to the atm. What do you mean it's not an atm card? They didn't send me an atm card, they sent me a credit card. I don't have a credit account with Citibank. WTF? Who decides how much $ I get? I just want my own money at this point. Citibank waves a magic wand and tells me to go to a bank and hangs up on me. WTF again. I cross the street to the closest bank and they don't do cash advances there but the other branch does, a mile away. I get the feet going and make it to this other branch. I show my card and my passport and they hand me money. I should have been more careful with that damn debit card.

an interesting change of events

Third day and i'm getting it together. I wake up around 6am and shit. There's that motorbike guy again sitting in a chair at my door. The curtain is open so he can see right when I wake up. I slowly roll over and go back to sleep, hoping he'll leave. I get a few more hours sleep and open my eyes again at 9. Damn. The guy is still there! I have got to piss badly but I really don't want to deal with this guy so I lay there for another hour in pain with one eye cracked waiting for him to make his exit. Finally I see him get up and walk away. I hear a scooter and BAM. I'm up, I take a desparately needed leak and bolt out the door. At the reception area a French guy is talking about buying a surfboard with the owner. I chime in that I want to do the same so after the customary greeting, were off. All the while I'm just waiting for the motorbike guy to come busting out of the bushes to join us. I have waited him out so I get a brief reprieve. We get a bite to eat and hit about 10 shops. I can buy a board at any of these shops. The majority on the used racks are what I ride anyway. 6'3", 2 1/4, narrow as hell. The frenchie though, of course he needs a fish, which is not too popular here and not on the used racks at all. We check every single used board rack before he finally finds a new board and gets to haggling about the price and he also gets a big-assed board bag, extra leash, rash guard, track top, etc. Good god, man. Each thing he's haggling on. Forever. Oh shit. From my seat watching this unfold I see the motorbike guy slowly riding past the shop. Damn! I pull a board in front of me to block the view and he passes. We finally get out of there and hoof it back to the hotel, drop our stuff and wait a bit. The frenchie has another frenchie coming in. This guy shows up and off we head for Kuta Beach and a break called 'halfway'. The beachbreak here on a crappy day is better than a really good day at home so we got out and there was a small crowd but not too many people bobbing around. I do need to say the local talent here is so good, it's crazy. Every section they kill it, airing out of every wave. Even the littlest kids are out there ripping. So anyway, I get a few waves and then a clean up set comes thru and I get thoroughly thrashed. My eardrum pops again and I get all disoriented. I can't see straight and it hurts like hell. I don't know if I am coming or going. I grab my board and just hope I'm pointed in the right direction. I make it back to the beach and have a seat for a half an hour or so before making my way back to the hotel around 4pm. That's it for me so I decide I need a set of good earplugs if I am going to be in the water. I fall asleep and wake up at 3am to that damn motorbike guy humming outside my door. Shit. I roll over and I can't sleep until 6am. The guy is still sitting there. He's gone when I wake up though so I get moving quick and get myself out of there. From the reception area I can see him posted up at the end of the alley so I lurk back to the rear of the hotel and hop the wall (some genius has cemented broken glass along the top of the wall so I have to be very, very careful. I would rather take a chance slicing myself up than deal with that motorbike guy. I get over and make my way to Poppies Lane and the travel agencies to inquire about the ferry to Lombok and Dili, hoping to get over to Lakey Peak. Inside one of these agencies I run into a really nice Columbian girl named Carito who looks so much like my old girlfriend Danielle that it is almost creepy. Fortunately Danielle was very beautiful so Carito and I decide to go off and have a drink and discuss our travel plans. She's travelling alone thru Indonesia also. Before we part she tells me she is paying 14 dollars for a room with hot water, ac, a beautiful pool, etc. and she says there might be vacancies. We go by and there are no vacancies but out of nowhere she offers to split the room with me. Off I go to get my stuff. That first night I dreamt I was on speed and as I stood over a sink in a dirty old house, I watched pincher bugs crawl out of the skin on my forearms. In my dream I was thinking "hmm, this is what it's like on speed?" I had also picked holes in my face too. I woke up with a big mosquito bite on my cheek. Little did I know the bottom was about to drop out on me.

off to kuta bali

u

So I got out of Saigon on the 29th, 4 connections later and I'm in Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia. I had planned on staying in Saigon for a surgery to repair my ruptured eardrum and a layup of 3 weeks. After taking a tour of the local hospitals, I decided that I would rather do the procedure myself with some bactine and some sharp q-tips than lay in one of those dirty places for any length of time. There is really not much to do in Saigon so I figured, where else would I like to spend the next month? It was another grand to change my flight in any way so I dropped the 400 bucks and now here I am. There I was, I mean. On the 29th I was in the Denpasar airport, standing on the tarmack outside of the plane 'cause in these countries you are actually standing on the runway outside of a 747 while another takes off 500 feet from you. My flight landed at 1:30 am so I ran with the crowd up to the ticketing platform and just as I spotted the money changing office, they turned out the light and walked out the door. Shit! The town of Kuta Beach is about 20 minutes on the back of a motorbike and without the local currency, the Rupiah, you will get ripped using dollars and the walk into town is sketchy, dark, and looong. I only had two one-hundred dollar bills in my back pocket that I was meaning to change over to Rupiah so I found a dark corner and tore my backpack apart for some smaller bills. Stuffed into some shorts at the bottom of my bag were three one dollar bills! Stoked. I got all my crap stuffed back into backpack and then out to the throng of taxi and motorbike drivers, calling out to everyone who looks foreign. I had to get there in three dollars and had no idea how much to get to Kuta from the airport. The prices change at 1:30 am since the only other option is walking an hour and a half into town so I was getting hit with 50k, 80k, and even 100k Rupiah (one u.s. dollar is equivalent to 9800 rupiah). I pulled one motorbike driver to the side and we did a bit of negotiation. I offered three u.s., he feigned indifference, we parted, he countered, I snubbed, he waved the helmet, I showed the money, he accepted, I hopped on and we were off. Holy crap. There was still lots of traffic on the road, even at that late hour and this guy was a madman. Pulling across the center line to pass, directly into the path of whatever was coming up. Even if we didn't need to pass, he passed. I almost wished I had passed. We finally made it into Kuta and geez, it's so completely built up, it's hard to take it all in. There's a Hard Rock Cafe on the main road along Kuta Beach and Poppies II and Legian, two of the main streets in Kuta are now built out to 110 percent. Shops, Starbucks, McDonalds and in between, the local Indonesians trying to make a buck off of noodles, hats, belts, surfboards, wooden dongs, bumper stickers and whatever else they think the tourist may buy on their walk to and from the beach. So I told the driver to take me to the cheapest hotel in town. He dropped my right at the entrance to town and pointed and drove off. He wasn't pointing at a hotel, he was pointing at nothing so he could leave me wherever and get back for another fare. Dick! I started walking. First hotel. Full. Second hotel. Full. 15th hotel. Full. Damn. I was totally lost, totally tired and sick of walking. All the while, guys are standing along the streets offering rides, weed, etc. I didn't know who knew what so I just kept walking. Another 10 full hotels and I think I hit every one. No dice. Walking back down Legian at 3 am, a guy hit me up and said he knew of a hotel cheap and with a vacancy. I was out of $ and told him but he said pay later so I hopped on the back and off we went. The first place he stopped was the first place I was told no vacancy. Then he went to another I had already gone to. And another. "Dude", I said, "I already went to all these places. " So we start riding and after a few more lefts and rights, he pulls into the darkest alley I have seen yet. He's doing 15 mph down this alley and I say shine and slip off the back and onto my ass. He stops, looks back, laughs at me and points to the end of the alley. He pulls to the end of the alley and out of sight and a light comes on. I see cars and a sign with rates on it so I get off of my ass and pull a carol-anne. I go towards the light. The driver is in negotiation with the hotel owner for a 10 dollar room. I tell him I'll take it and off the motorbike driver splits. I get my key and go into my room. No a.c., no sheets, no sink or hot water. Cool. No mosquito repellent either so not cool. They were unmerciful but I wrapped myself in my towel and didn't wake up till 10 the next day. Who is sitting outside my room? None other than my motorbike driver from the night before. Creepy but he has a motorbike and I need to change money and get my bearings. I get up, clean up the best I can and hitch a ride with him to change a hundred. I pay him a few bucks for the night before and a few for the day and we're off. We finish riding around midday and I tell him thanks and I'll see him another time. He wants to schedule another ride around Kuta but I'm thru with that. I want to go to the beach. I tell him no a few times and he splits. Off to the beach. There are waves and there is beer and there is sun. Ok. Things are getting better. My first wave bodysurfing and pop. My eardrum lets water into my ear canal, I get completely disoriented and have a hell of a time getting back to the beach. I almost have to ask for help to lead me back up to the sand. As for the photos, one is of what you need to get here, one is of a full sized panhead carved out of wood and hanging in a bar somewhere here and another is of the first hotel I stayed at. It was primitive as hell.

a video and photos of motorcycling in saigon

So the days consist of getting up at 3 am because I can't get a sleep rhythm with my ear infection, walking across the boulevard to get nitro coffee and walking over to the local vespa repair shop to spend the morning. I read the rest of the day away or play guitar. The gas tank was on a yamaha or a kawasaki. The big-twin looking bikes usually have a bit of flair. This is a great airbrush of a chick with a machinegun. Represent! Also, here is a photo of a tiger gas cap. I hear it's going to be all the rage next year. I'll get one for me and one for Poon cause he has the eye of the tiger anyways. The longer I hang here the more I realize that all of us in the U.S. are not even close to committed motorcyclists. The Vietnamese start riding on the way home from the hospital! They put their kids, pets, grannies, sheet of glass, groceries, tank of propane and whatever else will tie or strap on and head from point a to point b. The kids usually start riding alone to wherever they need to go from about 10 years old on. And they ride till they are old and die. No car ever in their lives. I saw a guy transporting snakes and a gecko on his scoot yesterday. I saw 10 propane tanks. A drum of gasoline. I knew it was a drum of gas cause it was leaking and I could smell it. I saw a guy with 6' X 3' sheets of glass destroying his lane! He was owning it and smiling all the way! I saw two babies and three adults on one scooter. Super hardcore. No paint, no WM1, no bates, just two wheels gas, air and a spark. Damn. I give these people mad respect. And they never flip each other off when they get cut off. Ever. Tonight I'm going to video the rats.

last night before flight

Here is a video from my drive up to the airport from Pnobscot, Maine. This is one of Maryanne's family homes. Beautiful location with one of two saltwater pools in the state.

suspension due to boring life

It looks like I'm going to discontinue the blog since I am off the ship till next year. (hopefully I can get back on for another voyage somewhere other than westminster, ca.) It seems that my life is actually pretty boring unless I'm risking my neck. I guess my last post will be this. I'm in Nha Trang, Vietnam looking at a really dirty hospital. The bus ride was 12 hours to get here. I had to walk a mile with all of my shit from the ship to get to the hospital. It was so dirty and unsanitary, I walked in and out cause I didn't want to catch anything and walked back to the bus scheduling place. I bought a seat for the 8pm 12 hour bus back to Saigon. Shit. The hospital in Saigon is the cleanest I have seen but there aren't as many french doctors as there were a few years ago. I'm sure the Vietnamese doctors are good but I ain't taking the chance. Since I don't have insurance, it's cheaper to come here to get my eardrum fixed for a couple grand than take the 20k life ending bill that is sure to come after a surgery of any kind in the states. The damn ear won't heal in this sweltering heat. I'm short on cash and have 8 hours till the bus gets here. Life is an adventure, whatever happens. All I can do is sit on the curb, smile, and shake my head. Thanks for all the nice comments you have left while you watched my sailing plans implode.

I have got to say that this Vietnam place sucks to be stranded in. It's hotter than hell and so humid you end up swimming in your own sweat most of the day. I'd split but recent developments at home have left me with an empty bank account so now I'm too poor to leave and too poor to stay. No matter what, I can always take a step back and laugh at how crazy the situation turns out. I'd bang my head against the wall but I don't have insurance.

skocich peninsula drive

Tony and I took a nice drive up the peninsula to skocich and a nice view of the open ocean. Here is what I found.

well this was unexpected

So 7 days ago and two days out of Boston enroute to Bath, Maine I came down with a nasty ear infection. It seems I popped my eardrum again descending into either Seattle or Newark airport and when water got into it up in the rigging, it became infected. I tried to recuperate down in the bunks, which are in the hold of the ship but the hot and damp environment made the infection much worse, causing the infection to spread to my eye. I stayed in my bunk about 20 hours and when we docked in Bath, Maine at the Maine Maritime Museum, a really nice museum volunteer named Peter drove me out to the local hospital where I was admitted to the emergency room. Kick the infection or lose your hearing. Get a graft for the eardrum or the infection will return as soon as I get more water into it. No more ship until I can get the surgery. The doctor tried to keep me there in the sterile room so I could kick the infection in a clean environment but without insurance, that was a no-go. I left the hospital and checked into the Rodeway Inn across the street. 36 hours in bed at the Rodeway Inn and Tony and Maryann from Hidecore make the 3 hour trip from Penobscot, Maine to pick me up and get me out of that 89.00 a night nightmare. Made the drive and pulled into their beautiful compound that you can see at http://www.bayviewhomesale.blogspot.com/ I felt good enough to get out for a walk today and was picked up about a mile from the house by a woman who could tell I was lost. I was looking for a trail to the ocean but the road that I was walking on did not allow crossing over by foot...all private property. She let me jump in and she drove me to her house about two miles up the road. The video shows how beautiful her place is. She just dropped me off in the yard and told me to enjoy myself and that she would pick me up and drive me back if she saw me on the road later. I spent about 3 hours in a hammock overlooking the ocean, thinking about my crappy turn of events. I have come to terms with not crossing the Atlantic now and am trying to figure out the best way to get this eardrum fixed with no insurance. (and limited $) I can always hop aboard next year now that I have my Coast Guard Certification. Until then, I am here with my good friends in a warm and positive environment and I am looking forward to the next chapter of my adventure. We just got back from the grocery and are making a big pot of Maine fish chowder.

some photos of town and the bel espoit docked beside us

It's the 4th of July and I woke up at 6 a.m to take a leak and decided to get another entry in before we sail. Tonight there will be two fire boats beside us shooting fireworks off. I thought we would be out sailing around but it looks like we are docked for the night. I was hoping to be sailing around the Statue of Liberty but no go. Here's a photo of Lucky at the bar the night before I left, one of me painting in the galley, the crew, a little v-twin engine on the dock, some photos taken while walking from Union Square to Times Square and a photo of The Bounty's deck in the morning and the French ship tied up beside us, the Bel Espoit. Yesterday I walked back to Times Square with Dan, Svetta, Andrew the Brit to see if there was an acoustic/electric there. I found a 199.00 model but it was a round plastic backed guitar. The sound was great but I thought it was a bit expensive. I did get a really small waterproof video camera from one of the little shops along Times Square. I had a good time negotiating with the guy. The people in New York are cool once you corner them. Other than that they seem like they are really stressed or in a hurry. This city is really cramped. I look forward to Boston and Maine.

I arrived on the ship and now it's work nonstop

I arrived on The Bounty the 29th at about 5pm. It's just about at the full complement of crew now, which is 20. My previous berth, which was a top bunk and totally show and large was taken since I was gone so long so I am relegated to a bottom bunk with plastic bags nailed up all over. When the ship is heeled one way or another when we are underway, the bilge water sloshes from side to side and comes up into the bunk thru the cracks. Did I mention that the bunk also leaks from above? I'll fix all of that here in a day or so. I'll have the most kick-ass bottom bunk on the ship. That I promise. I'll start by pulling all of that plastic down and filling all holes and seams with a sealant of some sort. I'll then make a mattress extension since the berth hooks to the left. That will make it so I can lean up against the hull for reading or whatever. I'll also buy some air freshener because the 4 man berth I am in smells like a 4 month old cast dunked in toilet water. Not much air circulation down there, unfortunately. I will say that I am surrounded by great people that are teaching me how to be a competent sailor, which is what I am here to learn. My friend Svetta is here. She and I took the Coast Guard Certification together last month. Adam, Sara, Gabe the younger are here. Caleb and Rebecca, who I first met in San Pedro are here for the night. They are on vacation but will be joining us in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The last few days had the crew sanding and varnishing brightwork, recieving and stowing 6 months worth of food for a crew of 20, and this afternoon in the pouring rain I mastered 'seizing'. That is where you take a length of twine 1 and 1/2 your outstretched arms length and use it to securely tie two lengths of line together. Today we secured the shrouds, which had been tightened up for our voyage. That keeps the masts from moving around. I have a bit of a sore throat but hope to be well enough to go to Time Square in Downtown NYC to visit the Sam Ash Superstore. I want to buy an acoustic-electric guitar. Caleb left his beautiful Takamine on board, which I found out this afternoon when they arrived. They had it stashed in their closed-up cabin. I would like on that is electric, though. Yesterday after our work was completed and dinner was over I walked to a Guitar Center at Union Square, which had no good deals. I then walked to the Sam Ash at Time Square but they had closed. Toys R Us was across the street so I went there looking for the Tony Hawk Helmet Cam but it was discontinued a few months back. The computer in Customer Service noted that there was one on the floor so of course I took an hour and a half looking everywhere for it. No dice. They finally kicked me out and I walked back. I walked almost 6 miles and all I got were some batteries and some cookies. Oh yeah. So I left Pier 66 on this journey and it was humid so I took off my shirt and started walking. I noticed that nobody else here had no shirt on but I didn't really care. I hooked a right at 8th ave and two or three blocks down and I'm in the middle of gay new york city. All the bars on the ave are open to the street and I'm getting fully harassed by dudes hanging out the windows. I put on my shirt and high stepped it out of that zoo. Those guys are nuts! That happened to me in San Francisco about 10 years ago but they gave me walking directions to the bar where I was to meet my friends at and they sent me straight thru the castro district. Bastards. I'm off to plan my bunk renovations.

Seattle enroute to Manhattan to meet The Bounty

I was able to stop off at my parent's house on the Puget Sound in Seattle, Washington overnight before coming out to the ship. Here is a video of the front yard and a photo of the logs which come up near the house during storms.

Two all-nighters and I fired the pan first kick. And THAT feels good.

Shoot. Two nights ago I attempted to wire the bike off of a Robinson drawing but crossed something up and when I turned the key, one of the wires started smoking and then turned cherry red along the center downtube! AAAAHH! Thanks to Syd's quick thinking of throwing oily rags on it, we got it out without any damage but a hurt ego. I pulled all the wiring and consulted Rodney when he showed up the next day. He tried to talk me out of it but I refused to split and had him draw me a diagram for the wiring before he went home. I stayed up all night and knocked out the wiring, all the while referring to all the things Ralph at Mesa Cycle has said over the years about doing show wiring. One main line along the top tube. Hide all zips. Cover all ends with shrink so no wire shows at all. I got it done and filled the fluids. Slept on a cement floor and went at it three hours later. Rodney figured out the brake and we pulled it off of the lift. I twisted the wick a time or two and it fired first kick. That was a proud moment for me. That means that I get to go to Japan with my good friends Roland and Drews and Cole and Kutty and we get to party our asses off with Mochi and Gaku and all the NFK guys. I am so stoked. Keith Coffin is here at the house now with the Moloch brothers from Norcal and alot of my friends are coming over tonight to check out the bike and see me off. I fly out tomorrow at 11:30AM for Seattle and day after that to Newark, where I will make my way to The Bounty in Manhattan for the beginning of my adventure across the Atlantic Ocean. Enjoy my trip. It's gonna be crazy.

I was too busy to bring in the camera last night...

So I got the petcock and a single plug from Scott Craig after driving all the way out to L.A. downtown and on the way back, picked up the other missing plug from Candy so my tank is now fitted, installed, and ready for fluids. Oil bag is mounted, plumbed, and ready for fluid also. I began on the electrical  by wiring the headlights back and the taillight forward. I ran the generator wire to the battery. The key switch with one side to all accessories and one to the battery positive. Ran the other side of the coil to the distributor. Zip ties hidden. Shrink tubing in all the right places. Turn the key! Oh SHIT! Smoke! That wire is turning CHERRY RED! AAAh. Pull the positive on the battery. Pull out the offending wire as it's burning hot. Check the paint. No damage. Just some smoke and  buzzed up nerves. The wire that ran from the key to the positive on the battery was toast as well as one of the two headlight wires. Hmmph. Where's Rodney?  Sick. He would know. I'll try again this afternoon. 

controls and whatever else. just a little bit more to go but only 72 hours left!

Thanks to Ralph at Mesa Cycle for the advice and to John at Banzai Machine for dropping everything when I walk in to tap or turn down something holding me up. Rodney and Stretch are always standing there to lend a hand or pull off some fabrication miracle. Mason hooked me up with some banjo adaptors for the police oil bag. He had them sitting right there on the bench like he knew I was coming over for them or something. Here's a few shots of my progress today. You think I'm stressing? Never. Back to the shop. This will be an all-nighter. 

John Candy working on the paint and a sneaker of the finished product

I'm on the home stretch but damn! The little things kill ya'. It took all day to hunt down the correct belt drive components since the primo stuff isn't interchangeable 64 to 48. Rivera discontinued the front tapered shaft pulley I needed so instead of just buying a pulley for 40 bucks, I had to buy the whole 400 dollar pulley-basket-belt updated system. I'll just go get that money out of the bushes here. Just a sec. Candy did a great job on the oil bag and fender. I took some shots of him working and here's a good one. Vid is a quickie of the parts together.