There was no electricity, just a restaurant or two on the beach, and how many times could one walk to the waterfall? Two boats, the Paladin and Sombrero, came most days from PV like circus boats bouncing and weaving their way across the Bay, OOM PAH PAH OOM PAH PAH speakers blaring loudly across the sea. They arrived relentlessly on schedule with fresh recruits for our little practical jokes. This day I believe it was the Sombrero.
“Hey, let's go!” Peggy B. encouraged us, “it's almost canoa time at the beach.” As a habit we would arrive and plunk ourselves down in the sand right in front of the spot that was used by the boatmen to unload tourists. There were NO piers. As each boatload of newbies reached shore, they would stare ahead, mouths agape, not sure what to do with their high heels or nicely tied leather shoes. “Jump! Jump!” the canoa guys had learned to shout in English. The shocked tourists would fall into the water like sausages in a boil. Some would just get feet wet and a few would lose their balance and topple into the waves. We thought this was hilarious. When I think back to these times, I can't say I'm proud of our actions and we probably looked every bit as silly as these folks getting out of our first canoa in a big wave. Yet, a laugh was a laugh and there we were taking advantage of someone else's foibles to get one.
Sooner or later, this activity got a little boring, too. One day a new friend, Bongo Dick, often folks with more common names must be given an identifier of some sort, and Peggy B., the Canadian party girl and myself decided to play a little joke on the tourists. Nothing like entertaining yourself in the jungle.
It was to be a threesome; a couple who had come to visit Yelapa with a philandering husband who just met a new island lovely. Peggy and Bongo took the parts of husband and wife and I was to play the charming beach girl. “I have to go to PV today anyway,” Peg offered, so, we prepared for our great drama to unfold and take place on the open sea. Bongo dressed in his finest shorts and sport jacket and arrived at the beach carrying a suitcase. The couple waited in line to board the big boat. “You, bastard!” Peggy screamed for all to hear, “I saw you flirting with that gringo slut on the beach, I hate you!” Everyone turned and looked at them while trying to look aloof, but completely engrossed in the unfolding personal drama.
“Honey, it's nothing, really, she was just trying to sell me a necklace,” he explained, “look, I bought it for you.” The fake wife slapped his hand backwards and the necklace of shells flew across the sand.
“Why, don't you just stay in this disgusting place with your new little bimbo, you perve,” her mouth squirmed in an ugly shape.
Everyone watched but dared not interfere. Finally, once on the boat, the fighting couple apparently escalated the argument, when suddenly, the husband, Bongo Dick threw his empty suitcase overboard and leapt to the top of the rail and jumped! From shore, this was my cue. As the jilting new lover I came running, waving and throwing kisses to my new love as he swam back to shore to live happily ever after....
We watched the entire boat of tourists move to the leeward side when Bongo jumped overboard fully clothed. They had fallen for our dramatic performance hook, line and sinker. All of us were delirious from laughter and when he reached shore in his soggy suit grinning from ear to ear, I ran to his arms. We embraced and kissed passionately and waved Peggy on to her ride to town. Mission accomplished and entertained for another day.
