I started the engine, the cool air blowing back and over the cockpit. My next stop was Tampico. When I planned this trip I looked at where I could land on the way back up the peninsula. About half way back to the US was the town of Tampico. There was just something about that name, Tampico. It sounded old Mexican. It made me think of senoritas dancing in an old bar, fluffy dresses and skirts flying as the girl swirled in the dance. The opening of Treasure of the Sierra Madre was filmed in Tampico. And it made me think of tropics as well. I put it on the flight plan before I did any further research. I just hoped it would be all my imagination was cracked up to be.
The take off was uneventful and San Jose ATC sent me on my way. As I flew up the spine of Central America I thought about the tropics and Senoritas. I passed over Nicaragua and into Honduras on the way to Guatemala. I was flying under a cloud cover with the mountains off to the side. Suddenly, I saw a plane coming down out of the clouds and pull up on my left wing. It was a two-seater with a turbo prop engine. It was painted in the colors of the Honduran Air Force and looked like it had a couple 20mm guns in the wings. This was not something that boded well. Those would give him better range than my guns and more power. I'd have an advantage of throwing rounds from six guns, a better chance of hitting something. Funny how the hair stood up and yet he hadn't done anything menacing. But my mind was saying, yet. Nothing yet. I don't know why but my intuition was not liking this.
There wasn’t anything on the radio. The guy in the back pointed at his radio and I gave a thumbs up. Still nothing. He pointed again and again I gave a thumbs up. Then he held up fingers, 1 – 2 – 1 - 5. 121.5. So I switched the back up channel to 121.5 and I heard a voice, “…entified aircraft, unidentified aircraft identify immediately and state intention.” Immediately has a very special meaning in air control lingo. It means do it now! And when you have a fighter flying next to you, immediately means really fast before they tell him to do something you won’t like.
“Mustang 3457, enroute VFR from San Jose to Tampico,” I called.
There was a little Spanish on the line as the plane moved closer. Then the radio again, “Are you an US Air Force flight?”
“Negative, this is an old World War II plane that has been restored. This is not an active duty flight. This is a private flight from San Juan to Tampico,” I stressed that private. It had been painted in WWII paint schemes when it had been restored. I knew that the Hondurans were having some of the usual Government roulette that the banana Republics like, kicking out the old crooks to install new crooks and the new crooks were probably a little nervous. After all, the US did have a history of kicking out Governments they didn’t like in the New World. Way back to the Monroe Doctrine, we had told the world, the Americas are ours and any interference we will consider an act of war. Keep out of our back yard! And that is the way we have treated the banana republics, like they are our backyard.
There were a few more things in Spanish that went too fast for my limited usage. The other flight peeled off and headed away. The controller came back, “Mustang 3457 you are cleared to Tampico. Maintain heading and altitude.”
“Mustang 3457, maintain heading and altitude. Roger.”
Whew, I breathed a sigh of relief. That was all I needed was to get in a furball with a Honduran air force fighter. Although I should have been able to take him or maybe outrun him if need be, I just couldn’t see any of the neighboring countries not lending assistance. There was no government that wouldn’t have taken umbrage at a private plane shooting down an air force plane. This would have been a lot different than taking some shots at Somali pirates.
I was flying right over where the Soccer War had been fought. Also called the 100 hour war, it was between Honduras and El Salvador and it was the last time the old World War II birds fought. It is the only time a Corsair and a Mustang tangled. Captain ___ flying a Corsair came up against a Mustang from El Salvador and quickly out turned him and shot him down. The Corsair was a better brid down low although most pilots say the Mustang would have had the advantage above 10,000 feet. I felt a lot better once I crossed into Guatemala. It’s amazing how something like that takes away any tiredness you might feel and your eyes get wide open. I crossed a little of the gulf and approached Tampico. I called in and was assigned a place in line of the arriving aircraft.
Tampico was one of the first airports in Mexico and was the terminus of the first commercial flights between the city and Mexico City. As such, it was the old triangle runway design so that you could always land into the wind. One of the runways had been lengthened since then to accommodate the bigger jets.
I was brought in on the smaller runway, fine with me. The airport also has a separate GA apron and service area. I parked and arranged gas and oil. The airport is in the middle of the city, not unusual for an older airport, which makes getting into town faster.
After bedding her down, I took a cab into the old city and got a room. The old city looks like something out of the movies, with wrought iron balconies and old white stucco buildings. I wandered around just taking in the sights of the city. My hotel had a whole lot of promo pieces on fishing. I checked out a couple and asked the concierge. He recommended one and offered to book a place tomorrow. I said what the heck and signed up. So I had reservation for 5:30 am. Then I started thinking, ‘Am I nuts?’ Getting up at Oh dark thirty while on vacation?
I had dinner in a local restaurant and it was a seafood stew, with rice and tomatoes and all sorts of fresh seafood. I was in heaven. There I go again: food as heaven. I know what my Heaven will be, the Playgirl of the month serving dishes prepared by the world’s great chefs and different everyday.
The phone woke me at five and I rolled out of bed and into clothes. I slathered myself with SPF 700 sunblock that could stop x-rays. Downstairs I found four other bleary eyed white guys. They loaded us into an old van and took us down to the docks. In minutes we were roaring out into the gulf as the sun rose.
The four guys were from Oklahoma down here with their wives. They all bitched about being here with their wives because they had stumbled into a local dive full of single women. Their wives had dragged them out. I made them tell me where it was, believe me, they all remembered vividly.
The boat had plenty of Cerveza aboard and one Okie proceeded to get roaring drunk until the fellow started chumming over the side. Alcohol and rolling waves don’t mix. He fell asleep below decks.
I was up on the bow as we drove on out to the Gulf. The water was a deep blue, almost sapphire. The sun was striking the waves and each wave broke the light into stars. It was like the boat was ploughing through an endless ocean of star sapphires, the stars flashing as the boat rose and dropped over the waves. I was mesmerized.
We were after sail fish. The Captain told us that sail fish were by law catch and release. We could take pictures but had to throw them back. There would be no trophy over the fireplace. Showing up with a billfish in port would bring fines and maybe jail time. I was fine with that. No Mexican jail for me.
The mates baited the poles and strung them out. They put out four poles, one for each sober guy. Mine was the one over the port side and way out. I watched as the fish bounced in the waves behind our boat. I had a beer, and watched. It was pretty boring. Then I heard a mate shout and looked out. There was a sail right behind my line. I stood there wondering what to do for a moment. The mate grabbed the pole and handed it to me, strapping it to the harness. The Captain slid down the ladder from the bridge and started coaching me, basically to do nothing. The billfish charged and hit the bait. As he did, the Captain screamed, “Hook him.” I pulled hard and the line started running. The mates quickly reeled in the other lines. I went to the transom and everyone was watching me. The fish would run, then I’d reel. The fish would run, and then I would reel. I thought my hand was going to fall off.
I kept losing more line as the fish ran time after time. I was worried that I’d run out of line when I started gaining on him. I could feel him getting closer to the boat. Right then, the fish jumped. God it was beautiful. All of us gringos gasped. Then he took off again and I was reeling like crazy. Finally he tired before my arm fell off. He was on the surface and I was slowly reeling him in. I had him right next to the transom when the crew went to get him. I relaxed and let the tip of the rod down.
Now, because of the no kill laws, the crew couldn’t use gaffs which would kill the fish. I thought they had him but because they couldn’t use gaffs they had to net him. The nets weren’t around him as I let the tip drop. A shake of the head and he threw the hook. A quick flip of the tail and he was gone. The crew looked at me accusingly. The Captain shook his head. “It happens.”
Happens? Happens? Shit! No picture. I was about to throw a little fit when one of the crew holding a camera showed it to the captain. “Bien,” he said. The crew guy showed me the camera, digital and there was a picture of the fish jumping.
“Damn,” I said. At least I got the picture.
What with the law against keeping fish, the fishing crews all had cameras since that was the only thing the gringos could take back with them. I was lucky the crewman got that perfect shot.
The rest of the morning we talked about the one that got away. About one o’clock, we hooked another. The guy fought his for 45 minutes. He learned from my mistakes and they got his on board so he had a picture next to this fish before they threw it back.
We headed back after that, cruising back to Tampico. The guy was flying as he looked at his pictures. When we got back to port, they printed pictures in their office for all of us. I asked if they could e-mail mine and the office girl said sure. I had the hard copy, just in case.
I took a siesta at the hotel. I woke up for dinner and showered before going out. Dinner was seafood again, a dish that I would have called Veracruz, but I suppose was snapper Tampico. I wandered around the downtown and found the bar. There was music playing, a mariachi guitar band. The guys were right, the place was full of women. It was the place for local women tired of their Mexican boyfriends to come and maybe find a single gringo.
I sat down at a table and ordered a cervaza. A few minutes later a senorita came up to the table, “Are you alone?”
I looked up and liked what I saw. “Si.”
She smiled at my Spanish and sat down. Since her English was a hundred times better than my Spanish, though she did compliment me, we spoke English. She introduced herself as Rosanna. I told her what I was doing in Tampico. She was interested in the round the world flight. She was more interested in me owning my own plane and could I fly it straight to Tampico? Un huh, I thought, she’s checking if I was potential boyfriend material.
We talked for a while longer, then she asked if I’d seen the downtown. Not being dumb, I said no. She took me out and we walked around her pointing out things. Soon we were holding hands and talking more intimately. I don’t know how, [wink] but we wound up back at my hotel.
Rosanna came up to my room. We went out on the balcony, the ‘reason’ for coming up to my room and watched the people on the street. Her hands were working on my neck and a little into my shirt. I took her into the room and pulled her into my arms. We kissed. Her hands were all over me and mine all over her. Soon clothes were dropped. One nice thing about the tropics is no one wears much, so clothes don’t take long to get out of; she dropped her dress and panties and that was that.
We lay on the bed; the cool air coming in from the ocean blew in the open doors. Rosanna was no shrinking virgin. She took charge, kissing me and pushing me back onto the bed. She kissed down across my belly and took hold of my cock. She cooed to it then licked the head. God, that felt wonderful.
Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about, but that's never stopped me before... I think Latino women are more likely to jump in bed and enjoy it. I suspect it is because they know what they want, to get married and get pregnant, or the other way round. But they want a husband and ninos and if this is what men want, well, give it to them so they give you what you want. Maybe I'm too simplistic.
Rosanna did nothing to make me think otherwise as she went to work, sucking and licking my cock. When she had it soaked she slid over my hips, held it up, and slid down over my cock burying it inside her hot pussy. I grabbed her breasts so inviting right there in front of me and sucked and lightly bit them as she moved over me.
Rosanna began moving up and down and around and around, giving herself pleasure. She would move fast at times then slowly wring out every drop of pleasure from our coupling. Soon she was speeding up then exploded in orgasm. She looked down and saw I was ready for more as she smiled and began moving again. This time she was quicker to hit her second climax. Breathing harder, I think she was a bit surprised I hadn’t cum. Looking determined, she began again. But soon she was caught up in her own pleasure and climaxed through a whole series of little orgasms, her body shaking as she cried out again and again.
Finally, she fell forward, her skin lightly covered in a sheen. I rolled her to the side then onto her back mounted her and began fucking her. I didn’t take long to fill her with my cum. She cried out as I exploded in her, her hands and fingers digging into my arms, her hips bouncing up to meet my thrusts.
We fell asleep in each others arms.
I woke with the first light coming in the window to find her getting out of bed. I rolled out and we took a shower together. She asked if I was going to come back to Tampico and of course I said yes, and I really did intend to come back someday. She gave me her phone number before dressing, kissing me soundly and hurrying off.
I dressed, grabbed the maps I would need for this leg, and got down to the airport as the sky was getting full light and the air was beginning to move. At teh airport I went into the pilot's lounge and got on the Internet to file the required eAPIS, Advanced Passenger Information System, another space waster that doesn't do a thing to make us more secure but does require a ton of bureaucrats to make it work.
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Copyright Rod O'Steele © 2009, 2011