Everything is quiet until around 11pm... when a crazy din starts just outside, fish being unloaded from 80 foot commercial fishing vessels. Sucked out of their holds with big pipes, deposited in big blue bins, carted away by trucks: sardines, squid, etc. It's the fish factory right next to the boatyard, which we became intimately familiar with, sounds and smells.
I met one of the guys working there: Jose from Oaxaca. He was stoked we are headed to his home state. "Too many things to see in Oaxaca. You will like it very much." We had a good conversation at 2:30am one night, after I fell asleep too early exhausted from a day of sanding/fiberglassing. My hard work pales in comparison to Jose - he works 8 hours at the fish factory and another 6-8 hours at the boatyard.
After a few nights of the fish factory I didn't need earplugs anymore - I must have gotten used to it. I almost grew fond of it.
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