Our hostel told us about a boat sailing to Panama a few days past when we had wanted to leave. But, they said it would be a bigger boat, more comfortable, so we thought we would take a look. It had an Austrian Captain. I was wondering what that would be like. I didn't have to wait long to find out. We were not on the dingy more than 30 seconds before his engine died, swiftly eliciting the F bomb. Once he restarted, we made it about 15 more seconds before hitting a mooring line, after which he went off and let us know what a fuckup the marina was. He was far more colourful than my writing portrays. So, I found out that Fritz was the quintessential sea captain. By the time we reached Panama,
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