Jim Austin

His previous columns are archived HERE.

JIM AUSTIN

Living the Dolphin Quest life

Well, friends, if you will recall in my last installment I said that I had planned to skip two columns due to an onerous commitment in Costa Rica. It turns out that my friends in Jaco are hooked up to the Internet so by virtue of the black magic of e-mail I can fill you in on happenings here, south of Putney.

After a grueling 12-hour fly-day we arrived in San Jose, adjusted our travel wedgies ,and prepared for a short flight to Golfito, forty miles from the Panamanian border. It was an exciting flight in our 15-seater, with short take-off and plenty of sharp banks to touchdown on a dirt runway.

An hour's boat ride replete with annoying pods of inquisitive dolphins and our view of the sun blocked by rain forest and mountainous terrain got us to our island destination: "Dolphin Quest."

Dolphin Quest is a lot closer to a commune than a resort. Our group of eight college students and two chaperones were the only guests.

The owner "Raymond" is a 47-year-old hippie who never gave up on the 60s. Instead of caving in to the establishment, he founded his little cosmic dream in Costa Rica.

If you don't like scarlet macaws, amazon parrots and a hundred other birds surrounding you daily, don't come here. This place is a bio-diversity freak's wet dream.

Our kids fed crocodiles in a pool at night, kayaked under the stars with bio-luminescent life clinging like Christmas lights to their paddles. They rode horses to the waterfall, took pictures of Raymond's 10-foot boa constrictor and lunched at the communal dining table on fresh mahi-mahi, guava, mango, papaya and pineapple, all grown or caught on site.

Dolphin Quest is the only place I have ever visited that required a tape recorder as well as the usual camera and binocs.

5:30 a.m. heralds a cacophony of life-sounds that has to be heard to be believed. You don't sleep through the piercing screech of the scarlet macaws, the myriad grunts and croaks of several varieties of frogs, toads and assorted reptilian buggers along with birds-melodious and birds-screechy all punctuated by the unbelievable 18-wheeler airbrake sounds of the ever-present howler monkeys. Save us Mrs. Davis.

My particular obsession is fishing.

On our first morning I hit the beach with rod in hand. I was astounded by what I saw. Fish were everywhere, big ones feeding on little ones in roiling whirlpools. With a light action rod I cast into the nearest hoards and hooked up a skipjack tuna, Bonito or other unidentified predators. Anything over six pounds was lost due to my light line.

When the fishing boat came I was able to troll with heavier equipment. The first morning was jackfish, a tuna knock-off with lightning speed and a bad attitude. They hit hard, the reel screams and then it's at least ten minutes before these thirty-pound-plus pugilists can be horsed to the boat. Hook-ups came fast and furious.

The sun was boiling, the fish were roiling, and I was flat exhausted after a half hour. I have never considered fishing an aerobic sport but they could add this kind of fishing to the Iron Man Triathlon.

When the bite went off at about 10 a.m. I was spent. It was better than sex and a lot more tiring. Time to go back to the ranchero for a few beers, a stogie, and a siesta. Life was good.

I know I sound like an ad for Dolphin Quest and I swear the discount Raymond gave me could never put a dent in my journalistic integrity. Still, if you have a sense of adventure, like to stare at birds and lizards or are a fish-slayer like me you should check this place out.

Raymond hasn't bothered with brochures and not many travel agents know him so check out his website at www.dolphinquestcostarica.com. I could tell you his prices but you would think I'm lying. If you mention this column I can guarantee a ten-percent discount on published prices. Not that I'm in any way personally benefiting by this ad, I mean column. No way.

Anyway we sure are having fun in Costa Rica. By the way, how is mud season progressing?

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