A good day for a mugging....

It was 1985, I was still in the U.S. Coast Guard and on temporary assignment to Puerto Rico. Now, I know what you are thinking "Poor guy, had to spend a winter in the tropics..." - well, yeah I did.

Anyway, I had been down there for a few months and had been staying at the guest house on base. Right across the street from the guest house and through a locked gate, there was a very steep drop that led down to a very beautiful beach. I had been told that no one was to go down to that beach unless they were with a large group, that is was just way to dangerous to go by one's self (for swimming or for fear of crime).

It sure didn't look dangerous to me and in fact, every time I looked down there (daily), I never even saw another human being. Eventually, I convinced one of the security guards to give me a key to the lock and to let me go down to the beach by myself. I don't know why he gave in to me, but he did.

Like I said, it was a very steep drop down to the beach - a man made trail had been painstakingly created to make it easier to descend and ascend though. After 15 or 20 minutes I found myself standing on a very beautiful beach and with awesome view of the water. I had quickly laid my towel and other personal belongings down on the sand and had walked out into the water but I had kept my glasses on so that I could keep a good view of my surroundings.

As I scanned the area I immediately observed a group a men about 1/4 of a mile away from me down the beach. As I watched them, I soon realized that they were beating up another man. They'd pound the guy a few times and then drag him out to the water, then they would return to the beach with him and begin beating him again.

I knew I was no match for 4 or 5 guys so I figured pretty quick that I'd better get the heck outa' Dodge. As I began walking back toward my belongings, I realized that one of the men was running toward me. I didn't want to act scared or anything so I pretended to just be looking for something.

"Hey man, are you from the Coast Guard base up there?" the native Puerto Rican asked me as he pointed up the hill.

I knew it wouldn't do any good to lie, although at the time the nationals there very much hated Americans - especially military ones.

"Yeah, I'm in the Coast Guard."
"Well, that's okay, we won't mess with you today man. You can stay."
"Oh thanks, I appreciate that it." I tried to look earnest in my response.

I pretended that I was going to go back out into the water as the man turned and began running back toward his buddies. As he got about 1/2 way back I grabbed my stuff and quickly started heading across the beach towards the trail that led to the top of the hill. When I looked back toward the group, my heart leaped into my throat! All five men were running in my direction and quickly catching up with me.

I had never run so fast in my entire life as I did that afternoon. As I sped up the hill on that trail I could hear the heavy breathing of the men behind me - they were too winded to yell anything at me, that was a good sign! As I drew closer to the locked gate I realized that the sound of the men's breathing had dropped farther behind - I never did see any of them come into view as I hurriedly unlocked and locked the gate and ran for the base security building.

As I returned they key to the guard that afternoon, he asked me if everything was okay - I told him it was, I was just too embarrassed to tell him what had just happened. My legs by then were like rubber and my whole body began to shake. It was only because I had been working-out in the weight room and riding a mountain bike almost daily, that I was able to outrun those thugs that day - plus I believe God added some speed to my legs!

I firmly believe if those men had reached me before getting through the gate, that I would have quickly been a dead man. Instead, the next I was so sore all over my body that I couldn't get out of bed.

I thought that was an okay alternative.