I’ve returned to out tour boat alone. Jorge is nowhere to be found. Diego is running down the white sand beach to find him. I am waiting anxiously with ALL our gear strewn across the 3 front bow seats we’ve claimed during this trip, wondering if i’ll be returning to Cartagena alone.
The second boat comes back with neither of my tour-mates. Shit!
Wait. I can see a third pontoon on the beach filling up with more people (and we are the last real tour boat left, so it is obviously for us.)
“Maybe Diego found Jorge and they are on this boat”, I hopefully think.
People are piling on to the ship. What if Jorge comes back but Diego misses seeing him and gets left on Playa Blanca? What if they both miss the boat? At least they can take a cab back…..
I HAVE ALL THE MONEY!
Oh dammit! Now I’m getting really worried. I have no idea if Jorge has enough, or any, money with him, and I have ALL of mine and Diego’s money. And all the drinks. Oh man. They are screwed if I leave without them.
I make a decision, if I don’t see Diego on this 3rd boat I’m heading back to shore. As the 3rd boat come closer, I see the 2nd boat back on shore making a last and 4th pickup. Ok. If they aren’t on the FOURTH boat, I’m going back. I have to. I have money to get back. I can’t leave them there stranded.
The third boat comes, still no Diego or Jorge. DAMMIT! I’m semi packing our stuff together so I can make a run for the fourth boat. A couple of guys from the crew have seen me pacing and made gestures that they are aware I may get off. They even nodded no when Diego wasn’t on the third boat.
The fourth boat pulls up. I’m searching and searching, and getting ready to run to go back to shore, when I spot them. Well, Diego. I spot Diego. Where’s Jorge? Maybe I missed his arrival. Maybe I just can’t see him. Diego climbs aboard, I breathe a sigh of relief, but don’t see Jorge. I’m just going to sit down and wait, and try not to look like I’ve been waiting nervously on the boat or anything. Try being the operative word here
(I fail by the way).
Diego comes running up. “Did Jorge come back?”
“I haven’t seen him. You didn’t find him?”
“I couldn’t. I thought I missed the last boat when I saw the third leave. I barely made the fourth boat!”
Uh oh. We have all the drinks. Diego had grabbed Jorge’s beach shoes (so they wouldn’t get stolen just sitting on the beach). We have EVERYTHING!
“Does Jorge have any money?”
“I don’t know”
We just left our lost friend alone. We are horrible, horrible people. We have no idea where Jorge is or if he has any money. At least he speaks Spanish (giant bonus), and I did see the bunch of Chileans that left the hostel last night (obviously to stay ON Playa Blanca), so Jorge will likely find them too. Yea, so he will be fine. We hope. Because we can’t do a damn thing about it now. Oh man, we have to tell the hostel. We are the most horrible friends on the face of the planet!
“Ok, maybe Jorge will be at the hostel when we get back? Yea, or we will give him like an hour before we go looking for him?”
We succumb to the fact that we can’t do a damn thing until we get back to land, and hope Jorge will figure it out. I mean, it’s not me with my limited Spanish that was lost, so that’s better…
Maybe the boat will wait?
Nope.
The boat pulls anchor and heads off for Cartagena. We just left our friend shoeless, possibly penniless, and waterless on Playa Blanca…..
