Author Archives: Sten Johansson

Sten old-school selfie, black and white © Sten Johansson

La Paz, 2002. I had recently arrived in La Paz for the first time and was looking for a new place to live. After sleeping on the street for a while, I found an upstairs room with a refrigerator, a cooking stove and a shower, even a television.

It was summer and it was hot in La Paz, so I slept naked on top of the sheets. Sometime later I was woken up by a sound. Someone was in my room. When I yelled the guy ran out of the room and jumped over the balcony. I grabbed my machete, went after him on the balcony, down the stairs and out to the street. Buck naked…

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We made an expedition to the Socorro Islands in the month of July to find out what is out there when all the other liveaboards are not around. It felt like the old times—we were by ourselves! No other boats! On this trip there were only 5 divers plus me as a guide, not 20 or 25 divers like when I was working here before. This is the way to approach nature! And with divers who know how to dive! I can focus on being a guide as opposed to what is happening more and more nowadays on the bigger liveaboards—dive guides are trying to keep divers alive because of bad dive instructors giving away licenses and letting people believe they are divers, or because divers were told that these islands were just like the Caribbean or Thailand… The boat was smaller though—60 feet but still quite roomy.

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Cross-eyed creature © Sten Johansson

In my line of work, boobies are a common sight. And these are not the kind that get men excited and women reacting in varying degrees of envy, depending on the size and the quality of work done on the object of interest. I am talking about the cross-eyed winged creatures that are known for their lack of intellect and consequent inability to handle new situations. I think they are descended from the now extinct dodo birds. They certainly exhibit the same mannerisms, and even look a little bit like those duds.

Granted, their cross-eyed look gives them the advantage of cuteness. You might even find their vomiting antics funny if you’re not the one cleaning up the deck of a boat. And, as long as you are not the target of their surprisingly accurate poop missiles, you will still find them likeable.

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Eye of the dolphin, Revillagigedo © Sten Johansson

Socorro Island, 2006. Here I was, single and unattached, and living the bachelor’s dream. I was sailing to exotic places, meeting women, getting free meals, having a roof over my head and, at the same time, earning a bit of money to save up for a rainy day. Or so people thought. Real life is a little different. I had to work my butt off 16 hours a day on the boat that provided my board and lodging in Mexico, and I was only meeting females of the animal variety.

One seemingly ordinary day, while I was setting up a buoy for a dive site, I fell in to the water with my dive gear. Captain Dave called out: “Dolphins!” For me, it was more like, Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen them before.

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Last week my wife and I had an opportunity to be like any other normal couple. We did mundane tasks and ran errands, which included a trip to Costco on a Sunday.

We were on our way back to our Ford Exploder when someone tapped me on the back and asked me if I was who I was. Uh, yes…?

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I’ve had an Uzi pointed at me once upon a time. One time the bodyguards of a Serbian warlord beat me up. I have served as a human shield for war refugees in Central America. I have endured below freezing temperatures in the Saharan desert, snowstorms in the forests of Sweden, and have even survived the vortex of death in the Pacific Ocean.

But turning my back on tobacco might just be the death of me.

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PART ONE: FALSE STARTSPART ONE: FALSE STARTS

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT COULD BE A START TO A GREAT ADVENTURE

The day had been quiet, but later in the afternoon the wind started to pick up. I decided to just paddle to the bridge abutment on the Swedish side and spend the night there, leaving the crossing to the Danish side (Copenhagen) for the next morning. But it was already too windy in Limhämnsvagen and my kayak was far too heavily laden. In the port of Limhämnsvagen I realized that I couldn’t bring all my stuff with me, so I decided to turn around. By then the wind had almost turned into a storm—the wind, currents, and shallow water churned up big unpredictable waves of up to 4 meters high. I got swept out and away from the shore on my way back.

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PART ONE: FALSE STARTSPART ONE: FALSE STARTS

CHAPTER THREE

THE END FOR NOW

With a solid bottom underneath my feet, I straggled to the beach, step by careful step, only to lose my footing when a big wave came crashing on the beach. I let the waves take over, bringing me (and my kayak) roaring and snorting into the country. I was still alive! The two figures that had witnessed my arrival looked at me with eyes as big as saucers. I remembered nothing of what they said, except that they just stood there and stared at me while I jumped and bounced around like a ping-poll ball to get my circulation going.

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PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY

CHAPTER FOUR

ANOTHER BEGINNING

The last days of 1998 found me paddling leisurely along a canal. It was a cold day, but high above the sun shone brightly in a light blue sky and beneath my kayak the water was as smooth as a mirror. Spotting a hawk observing its surroundings a few meters away, I stopped paddling and let myself glide towards it.

The kayak was cutting clean, beautiful lines on the surface. All was still. Suddenly, the hawk took to flight and went after a duck. The hawk caught its prize in mid-air, bringing it down to the shore with a thud.

From peace and harmony to the sudden drama.

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PART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORYPART TWO: THE REST OF THE STORY

CHAPTER FIVE

LIVING LIKE A KING ON A BARGE

On the ninth day I arrived in Magdeburg and met the Elbe again. My plan was to go to Prague through the Elbe. I could feel the current. In some areas I had to take 20 strokes in order to move a meter forward. I decided to remain in Magdeburg.

I made contact with a Czech barge company, where I met Vladimir. In his office, I told him what I was planning to do. Vladimir listened without uttering a word. When he finished his workday, I got my first shower in nine days, food, and a night with a proper roof over my head.

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