Speak the language.
The Primos slogan isn't trite. It denotes a common language that bonds people of disparate backgrounds.
It also bonds people that speak different languages.
On March 22, my brother Brad and I began our two-week adventure to Cartagena, Colombia, by going to sea with Cartagena Fishing for billfish, mahi-mahi, and wahoo. The outing almost didn't happen because, although we had paid half of the fee when we booked the trip, we owed the balance on the spot, and before we were allowed to board the boat. The captain didn't take credit cards. Fortunately, Brad and I had enough cash, barely, to cobble the amount.
The captain and his crew of two did not speak a word of English. Brad does not speak a word of Spanish. I do not speak Spanish well enough to smooth over sticky situations like that. The mood was tense as the big panga motored out of Cartagena Bay. It was clearly an us-them situation. They were there to do a job, and our satisfaction appeared not to be a priority.
After an hour of silence, I opened the Photos app on my iPhone and pulled up a photo of a shark. I tapped the captain on the elbow. He looked over, and his eyes widened.
"Ho! Uno grande!" he exclaimed.
"Si! Mako," I said.
"Donde?"
"Florida."
Next were some photos of me holding some big Florida red snappers. Colombians are meat fishermen, so I knew red snapper photos would resonate. All of the exclamations got the crew's attention. The mood lightened considerably.
Next up were photos of walleyes on the Ouachita River. Those are cold weather photos, with my friend Rusty Pruitt bundled up like the Michelin Man. It is always summer in Cartagena, according to Luis, the driver we hired. They fish rivers in Columbia, but they are all rainforest rivers. They don't have rocky bluffs.
"Genial para comer! (Great to eat!)" I said.
"En realidad (Really)?"
"Ooooohhh, es verdad (It is truth!)" I shouted, ending the phrase with a maniacal cackle.
Next up were photos of smallmouth bass. I illustrated these with photos of the tackle we use for them. I did the same with largemouth bass photos. The small soft plastic lures intrigued the captain, as did the lightness of the tackle. I yanked out a hair to roughly illustrate the size line we use.
Next up were photos of rainbow trout. The captain knew this fish, and he wants to catch it. I showed him pictures of stickbaits. Using his fingers as a scale, the captain estimated the length of the lures. The smallness of our tackle mystified him.
"Rio Blanco (White River) en Arkansas estado," I said.
"Arkansas? Donde es?" the captain asked.
"Sabes, Presidente Bill Clinton," I replied.
The captain looked at me blankly and shook his head.
"Es en la sur, a la este de Tejas. (It is in the South, east of Texas)."
The captain nodded, trying to construct a mental map of the United States.
Next up were photos of me posing with wild turkeys I'd shot. The captain passed the phone among the crew and then back to me.
"Pavo? (Turkey?) the captain asked.
"Si, senor. Delicioso!"
The ice thawed. The crew chattered happily as they deployed the lines, and then we waited. Unfortunately, the wind had blown about 20 mph at night for weeks, creating huge swells in the open sea. It caused fish to abandon the flats where they usually hunt.
Eventually, a fish pulled down a rod. The captain indicated it might be a wahoo.
"WaHOOOOOO!" I yelled. The captain joined in, and then the crew. We sounded like a pack of wolves howling.
It was not a wahoo, but a small barracuda. It was my first, so I was happy. The second bite, which Brad reeled in, was also a barracuda. Seeing that we knew how to handle the tackle and the fish, the crew warmed to us even more. While waiting for the next hit, Brad and I sat toward the bow. I felt something cold on my arm. It was a can of Colombian cerveza, a hospitality from a crew member. It was very good beer, and they crew were generous with it.
The last photo I showed was me posing with a big buck whitetail I shot in Louisiana while hunting with Will Primos. After that hunt, Primos explained how the "Speak the Language," slogan came to be and how it exemplified his company's mission.
Its meaning is universal, and on this trip it was profound.