A PLANE, A JALAPENO, AND A PARACHUTE
#64 - My wife, her nephew, Akira, and his friend, Kentaro, both 12 years old and visiting from Japan, and I, flew down to Acapulco to meet my mother, brothers and sister for a get together.
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A Plane, a Jalapeno, and a Parachute
My wife, her nephew, Akira, and his friend, Kentaro, both 12 years old and visiting from Japan, and I, flew down to Acapulco to meet my mother, brothers and sister for a get together. For a few days in the tropical sun.
We drove down to L.A. Where we stayed overnight, and then caught an early morning flight to Acapulco.
We made what was to be a quick stop in Guadalajara. A few passengers exited, a few boarded, and we were soon off again, only to circle around and land again.
The pilot announced that there was smoke in the cockpit. Yes, we were alarmed at this revelation.
We taxied to a stop away from the terminal and were quickly surrounded, “just in case”, by fire engines. Two mechanics arrived and bounded up the emergency stairs into the plane.
Both mechanics looked as if they had just been working under the hood of their car, well-worn coveralls and oil rags hanging from their back pockets.
Our seats were well forward in the cabin, and we could see and almost hear their conversation with the pilots.
One of the mechanics got down on his knees and looked around under the dash, so to speak. He reached into his toolbox, retrieved some wire cutters and dove back under the dash. He came out again with a length of wire, rubbing the char off of a frayed end - the cause of the smoking.
He pulled out a couple wire connectors from his box and went back in. Not a minute later, out he came and stood up with a “thumbs up”, an “All’s good”, an “Ok”, and “a smile”.
Wide-eyed questioning looks went from passenger to passenger.
The captain nodded his approval, the mechanics departed, and the fire engines left. We were soon on our way again. I think more than a few of us prayed. I know I did. We arrived in Acapulco.
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We landed and on the bus into town the driver pointed out Sylvester Stallone’s property, among others of stars I’ve forgotten, on a cliff overlooking the ocean. What a spread, one of many lavishly beautiful homes.
We were staying at a twelve-story hotel on the beach. We were on the eighth floor. We met up with the family for lunch at the hotel's restaurant.
After lunch, the sightseeing began. Except for myself and our nephew and friend. They were primed and prepared with what seemed to be an unending supply of coins for a few days at the downstairs video arcade. They were in heaven. We checked on them occasionally.
I retreated to our hotel room and sat out on the balcony with a “cold one” and just enjoyed being there with the view.
Presently, a parasailer came into view, sailing down the beach. Attached by a line to a motorboat running parallel to the beach, the parachute was as high as my eighth-floor hotel room. It made a turnaround downrange and again passed by. The parasailer saw me waving at him and waved back.
“I gotta check this out,” I said, downing my beer and heading for the beach.
It was a, “Put your money down and take your chances.” kind of arrangement.
It looked safe to me. I’d seen them in action.
The boat wasn’t new nor was it that big. But it did the job. As did the less than new parachute. Just four young men, none of whom was an adult that I could see, who found a way to make some money from the tourists. I knew better than to ask if they were insured.
Soon enough, I was in the harness with the ‘chute splayed out behind me. There were two assistants to the takeoff, to assure the ‘chute “caught air” on takeoff, and two guys in the boat.
The boat pulled the slack out of the line, got the “Go!” signal from the guys with me, hit the gas and within a couple of strides I was airborne and rising rapidly.
I sailed past my hotel, turned around out over the water, returned to the staging area and made a nice landing on the beach. Maybe a ten-minute ride total. It was exhilarating, I must say. And surprisingly quiet with just the soft hum of the wind singing through the ‘chute ropes.
I put money down for another ride.
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The family met for dinner, and I managed to get all but my mother to commit to a parasail ride in the morning.
There was one incident while partaking in our excellent meal. Kentaro managed to down a Jalapeno pepper before he knew what it was and before it took effect. It lit him up. His face flushed bloody red, and his eyes bulged with his mouth wide-open for air.
Milk was the only thing I knew to call for. He downed the milk in one take and called for more. He weathered the storm, and I’m sure the episode is with him to this day.
One must be careful when eating unfamiliar food.
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The next morning, we gathered at the beach and took our turns parasailing up the beach and back again. All went well until Kentaro took his turn.
It may have been that he weighed a lot less than most riders, but just after lifting off and clearing the beach, the parachute made a large arcing curve to the left and from about twenty feet high it dunked him into the ocean. The boat quickly stopped dead in the water.
My brother and I hit the surf to the rescue ahead of the two assistants. Though Kentaro made quite a splash, he was unhurt and, on his tiptoes, his head above the water. We cleared the lines from the parachute that were tangled around him and got him and the ‘chute back onshore.
A large group of beachgoers had gathered to the spectacle. As the instigator of this endeavor, my mother was not too happy with me.
Kentaro still wanted to ride. We got him ready again for take-off, and all went well. I think the boat towed him at a slower pace to account for his lighter weight.
That left only Akira. He is smaller than Kentaro. He, too, still wanted to ride. I think he felt duty bound. He had waited patiently, yet apprehensive. His ride went off without a hitch.
I thought both of them were brave. They were elated with the adventure and their adrenaline rush was only enhanced as they returned to the video arcade with a fresh supply of coins.
Happily, my mother’s unhappiness quickly passed after Akira landed and the whole thing was done.
The rest of our trip was filled with family, museums, tourist traps, eating, and lazing around.
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What an adventure! Thanks for sharing this with us. It sounds like you will remember this vacation for a long time.
The mechanics and wires remind me of a guy I knew who enjoyed tinkering with engines, from cars to bikes and lawnmowers, despite not being a mechanic. They used to call him the shade tree mechanic, as most of his work (free labor, of course, pay only for parts) took place under a shady tree.
Thanks for taking me along on this adventure, James. How exhilarating! I love how you saw the guys parasailing and just went for it. Sounds like it was a blast, something all will remember without a doubt.
We once experienced something similar when flying. We were in Scotland, had already boarded, and then were asked to get off the plane. We stood out on the tarmac for an hour or two, and then once the situation was handled we had to go back inside through security and check in. It was quite an ordeal!