All Aboard! ~J

            I knew that if they saw me they would stand and wave me aboard, I also knew that if I kept diving and swimming further and further out into the swells they would see me. A wave crests in front of me and I take a big ol gulp of air going back under. Kick once and sweep my arms back, letting my body glide through the water angled down so eventually I reach the bottom. Dig my nails in the chilly sand and pull myself along the bottom and kick up and away covering another 7 or 8 feet on my acent. I can cover 25 feet in one breath. The Vietnamese being only semi aquatic at best find this very impressive, that's partly why I do it. They're all congregated on the aft end of the rocking fishing boat, which means they are eating and likely drinking. The boat bobs in the waves, painted an aquatic blue to compliment the infinates of sky and sea it straddles. The mast has been lowered and is supported by rigging. A guy sees me, beckons but I pretend not to see him at first, just keep swimming out into the ocean, now a good 100 yards from the beach. He and a few other stand on the deck and wave their arms at me, waving me in. All 11 men on the fishing boat are shirtless and well bronzed. But unlike the construction workers who are wound tight with muscle, the fishermen, even the young ones, rub hairless pot bellies admiringly. The boats hull heaves up and down, crashing with the waves and when it dips low I grab hold on the deckrail and am lifted up and out by the next wave. The men are laughing and baleehoowing through mouthfulls of rice.

I'm dripping on the deck and they stare at me in wonderment like I just jumped out of cake.Room is made in the tight circle for the honored guest.  I sit down and they are laughing and shouting gleefully in vietnamese, we cluster around an immense black cauldron of rice and several lesser pots of fish sauce, small pan fried fish-whole, and smaller pan fried fish. One man is laughing and has been since they saw me in the waves, and rice and fish dribbles out of his mouth and down his chest to collect on his belly. They motion to the fish and I crunch into one without hesitation to show my familarity or some damn thing but the bugger is crunchy with bones and fins, and the guts and head are expected to be devoured. I mash it up real good, it's salty but edible, and as I chomp into the head I say Cap 'n crunch, beef jerky, Oreos, but it's no good , it's a fish head and there is no way round that fact. Freedom of movement is limited as most of the deck space is scattered with nets, batteries, baskets and bouys.

A small yellow fuel container is passed forward and clear fluid is poured into a mug that is inspected and polished with a grimy shirt. The laughing man sees the fuel jug and doubles over, turning red and straining his veins about his head from laughter. The mug, which has been given a handle with copper wire and deft fingers holds a few swallows of rice wine. The fuel jug is apt storage for this evil brew. It goes down the hatch like propane. I grimace theatrically, pound my chest and shout "Oy choi oy !!!" which is something like good god almighty, or oh my god.  I slam the mug down like  a cowboy and they chatter and laugh elbowing each other. One man wipes his finger across my tattoo to see if it will smear. A much more ambitious portion of hooch finds its way quickly into my mug and sense the game is how much of this nastey juice will the American drink. I sniff the mug and look up in mock worry. They guffaw and rice cascades out of their mouths, red man turns purple. Mot, hai, ba, YO!! I cheer and gales of laughter follow. The whole while the boat pitches to and fro, the fish sauce sloshes but does not spill.

I love it, I wanted abaord and here I sit. This is not sold in the tourist office, this is a product of my travel philosophy which is say YES. Want to come in? YES. Want a drink? YES. Want some fish heads?...YES?

I am already feeling the jolly notorious effects of the rice wine and I pat my belly like Santa Claus and stride to the end of the deck. I want my exit to be sudden and dramatic. They turn in unison, grinning, bewildered and thrilled at my sudden apearance and exit.

"Well Boys, thank ye kindly for the grog!"

I dive as a wave lifts us up and up. Decent form, could have been better. I go for all I'm worth underwater and pop up a good distance away...rice wine and fish bones tango in my gut. A sour burp stings my nose and my stomach clenches and turns. I swim a few strokes and choke back the puke that rises in my gullet, gasp, swallow sea water, curse and turn to wave at the crew, who now standing watches me swim to shore.