The Peripheral Sur

by Bart Key

  Not long ago, Sur informed me of his intention to sell his Santa Barbara and Ventura homes and close the Ventura office. He will be opening a new office near Casa Sur and wants me to manage it. He has reserved for me a lot overlooking the beach close to his place where I can build a home if I want to. I accepted of course and resigned myself to the fact that my days in Ventura were numbered. I would dearly miss my friends there. Ward, Cory and I decided not to sell our Ventura home at least for a while. It just has too many great memories.

  When I took up residence in Guanacaste, I lived at Casa Sur temporarily while my new home was being built. It was a smaller place, more like a bungalow, with an attached garage for my new pickup and topper, perfect for driving and camping on the beach. The back of the house will overlook the Pacific and my yard will be all natural landscaping. My move had a silver lining as I can now spend lots of time with Paco, Miguel and their families. After all, I’m Uncle Jeremy.

  •

  After Sur sold his oil company, I became a stay-at-home dad for our two kids. Sherry’s career continued to bloom and she is now recognized as one of the country’s leading pediatric oncologists. As our children got older, I became somewhat bored. So when Sur called to ask whether I had any interest in taking on a project for him, I was all ears. He had learned about some oil exploration concessions that were soon to be put up for bid covering certain blocks of acreage offshore Indonesia. He had an interest in bidding on one of the smaller blocks if the geology indicated it was prospective for oil development. Would I consider looking into it for him and researching the geology?

  I jumped at the opportunity. Sur sent me the details and I began reviewing various resources on the geology. I also contacted a couple of fellow geologists I knew who were familiar with recent offshore drilling activities in Indonesia. After completing my preliminary analysis, I called Sur to let him know that I thought that there were two or three smaller blocks offshore East Kalimantan which looked prospective. In his inimitable style, Sur wanted to proceed immediately and asked if I would get together with Ward in traveling to Jakarta to meet with the Indonesian Energy Minister if he could get us an appointment.

  About a week later, Ward and I were on a commercial flight to Singapore. In the meantime, Sur had selected the specific block which he wanted to apply for and had also been successful in arranging an appointment for us to see the Minister. Sur hoped that we could prevail upon him to award the block’s concession without the necessity of having to go through the formal bidding process. After resting a day in Singapore, Ward and I flew to Jakarta and first met with Sur’s Indonesian attorney. That afternoon, the three of us met with the Minister who was very formal and cordial. While he did speak some English, most of what he said was spoken in Indonesian which was translated for us by our attorney. I provided a map to the Minister which showed the small block we were interested in and Ward quoted the amount we were prepared to bid. Our attorney then explained to the Minister that we were hoping to be awarded the concession without having to go through the formal bidding process. To my great surprise, the Minister was okay with that and accepted our bid. The concession was granted officially about a month later. It will never cease to amaze me how things seem to get accomplished in Sur’s world.

  And the plot thickened. With his concession in hand, Sur called Ryan, now the CEO of the international natural resources company that had purchased Sur’s oil company. Sur asked Ryan if his company was planning to bid on any of the Indonesian blocks. If so, Sur volunteered to share my interpretation of the geology of the area where Sur’s block was located. Soon after that, I sat down with Ryan and his staff in Houston and presented my geological interpretation which indicated that a potential oil bearing zone underlaid Sur’s block and the adjoining much larger block currently up for bid.

  Not surprisingly, Ryan’s company was high bidder on the larger block. Within a year, an exploratory well drilled by Ryan’s company on this block discovered a commercial oil field. Before starting development, Ryan’s company purchased Sur’s block for a figure more than one hundred times greater than the price Sur’s company had paid for it. In addition, Sur’s company was granted a small royalty interest on production from the entire field. Sur was on cloud nine after the initial discovery and paid me a very generous bonus. He also asked if I wished to continue working for him in developing more exploration opportunities. As I had caught the bug again I couldn’t wait to get started.

  Maybe a couple of months later, Ward and I flew to Hong Kong where we intended to rest up for a couple of days before proceeding to Kuala Lumpur to inquire about an offshore block that was to be put up for bid offshore Malaysia. We had checked into our hotel and were walking to a restaurant to meet Ward’s friend Li for dinner when a car, seemingly out of control, careened toward us as we were walking across the street. The car hit Ward head-on, tossing him over its windshield unto the street. I was horrified and quickly ran over to him as did the driver of the car. Ward surely had to be dead. He was a bloody mess and as far as I could tell not moving or breathing. But suddenly he slowly opened his eyes and sort of shook his head like what happened? He was rushed by ambulance to a hospital and about an hour later his doctor told Li and me that he was basically all right except for multiple bruises and some bad lacerations which had been stitched up. Ward had to be the luckiest person on the planet to have survived that accident at all, let alone with no major injuries. Within a week, he felt good enough so that we could fly on to Kuala Lumpur.

  When I stopped to think about it, it was amazing how much my life had been affected by my association with Sur. First we were fraternity roommates. Then for years I worked for his oil company. Now I was assisting him on potential mineral development opportunities around the world. The more I thought about it, I realized that the Sur I knew today was different from the Sur I knew in college. I vaguely remembered that during the second semester of our sophomore year, a time when Sherry and I were dating and pretty much inseparable, Sur suddenly had changed. It was subtle but he was more distant than before and seemed bewildered by something. He was even more changed when I joined his oil company. He was more driven, self-assured and ambitious. Though he had no formal education in geology or petroleum engineering, sometimes he seemed to know as much or even more about these fields than his own experts. He seemed to have a gift for drilling successful wells. Working with him as he built his oil company had been an incredible experience and had made me wealthy. And now here I was at it all over again.

  •

  When we became eligible, Miguel and I went through the process of becoming naturalized citizens of Costa Rica. As general manager of Sur’s hotels and casino, it seemed like there was always some social obligation which I had to attend and suffer through. But otherwise, I went to extremes to stay out of the public eye. It was hard to believe that, not all that long ago, I was a teenager looking after a dilapidated beach property and had little else on my plate except plans to surf with my little brother. To this day, Miguel and I still love to surf together but both of us have certainly moved on since growing up in our small village. I now manage companies which employ hundreds of people. My wife Anita, our two sons and I live in a spacious house with a path leading directly to the beach. Mom, I hope you’re watching.

  Even while our sons were little, Anita was able to find time to continue her career as a journalist. Her investigative pieces on protecting Costa Rica’s pristine forests have been well received and she is greatly admired within the environmental community. Though she’s never had any desire to take up surfing, she loves watching me and the boys at it. Both learned to surf at an early age with Jeremy and me as their instructors. Like me, both are reserved and quiet and we all depend heavily upon their mother to get us through the social niceties. She’s the warm greeter who remembers names and always makes everyone feel at ease.

  Sur spends more and more time in Guanacaste these days as the open lands between
his hotels are under development. Early on, he reserved for himself the choicest residential lot which is located at the far southern end of his lands and overlooks a sandy beach which is isolated on both sides by rocky points. In effect, his beach is inaccessible except from his lot. The surf off the beach is usually quite nice for body surfing and sometimes for board surfing as well. On the bluff overlooking his beach, Sur built a home which we all call Casa Sur. A well-known California architect designed the house taking into consideration some ideas contributed by Miguel. Sur had remembered that Miguel had taken some architecture courses in college and reasoned that his creativity would contribute to the final design. Miguel was hesitant about participating in the design process as he thought his talents were more in the musical realm. But as soon as he started working with Sur’s architect, he became absorbed in the project. My family’s home was built on the lot adjacent to Sur’s. Miguel was persuaded to participate in its design as well.

  Chapter 20

  Home on the Range

  After a year as assistant manager of the Bar 7, Sur discharged his consultant and made me the general manager. Not too long afterwards, I fell madly in love and married my beautiful Elizabeth. To this day, I willingly bend to her wishes when she looks at me with those beautiful brown eyes. She is completely at home in the saddle and loves to ride with me on the ranch. I just want to be with her forever.

  We started a family soon after we were married and now have two sons, Mat who is three and Bret almost two. Number three is on the way as Elizabeth is pregnant again. We love our new home which we built on the land given to us by Sur. Mat has his first horse and, with Roberto’s help, has taken on the responsibility for her care. Mat begs me to take him along when I am going riding on the ranch. Sometimes I will if we’re not going far but he’s still too young to ride with me in the bison enclosure. Our closest neighbor of course is Sur whose home is just down the road. These days he’s away most of the time but whenever he visits the ranch, Elizabeth invites him over for dinner and Cory too if he’s with Sur.

  During the past few years, the Bar 7 had grown considerably in size as a result of Sur’s having purchased both ranches abutting the bison compound. After removing the dividing fences and where necessary installing strong perimeter fences, our growing herd flourishes within a now much larger natural space. Raising bison in their natural habitat is much different operation than raising domesticated cattle. Bison are wild animals and being in the middle of a bison herd on a horse is not a recommended practice. Bison are incredibly athletic. They can outrun horses and are great jumpers. They can turn quickly, swim and are incredibly strong. In the winter, they are able to withstand the cold much better than cattle as their metabolisms slow down and they need less food. Bison eat natural grass and will range far and wide to find it, even rooting for it in the snow. Their grass diet results in their having more efficient digestive systems than cattle raised on forage. And because bison thrive in a natural environment, they are less susceptible to disease than cattle.

  There are however certain problems associated with raising bison. Unlike cattle, bison go where they want which is not always where you want them to go. They are extremely aggressive if agitated and in such situations can be dangerous. Rounding them up is a slower process than with cattle as they need to be herded slowly into smaller and smaller confined areas until movement is restricted. My cowhands and I use great caution when we approach these beasts but they do seem to get used to our being around. Our bison operation has now become profitable though not nearly as much as our cattle operation which is one of the largest in the area.

  When Sur’s Playa Oro Resort had its grand opening, he invited me to attend the event after which we would fly to southern Australia to take a look at a large cattle and sheep station for sale. When Sur, Cory and I landed at the Tamarindo airport in Guanacaste, Miguel was there to greet us and drove us to the Sea Breeze where we joined Jeremy, Ward and Paco for a late lunch. Afterwards, the six of us boarded a shuttle bus that took us to the Playa Oro. Paco took us on a private tour of the resort which was already buzzing with activity preparing for the next day’s grand opening. Paco was understandably a little nervous but also beaming with pride. And deservedly so. The facility was beautiful and seemed to blend almost seamlessly into Costa Rica’s coastal landscape. At the banquet the next afternoon, Paco gave a very polished and humorous welcoming address to the attendees which included many local government officials. As he spoke in Spanish, Miguel, who was sitting next to me, whispered the gist of what Paco was saying. Jeremy did the same for Sur. Afterwards, I complimented Paco on his speech. He chuckled and confided it was his least favorite part of the job. I could empathize with that.

  The next morning Sur, Cory, Jeremy, and I boarded Sur’s jet and headed for Australia. Many hours and several fuel-stops later, we landed in late afternoon on a narrow and long runway near a small town not far from the station. A polite young woman met us there and drove us to the station’s nicely appointed guest house. After showering and relaxing for a bit, we joined her and her father, the station’s owner, for dinner. After breakfast the next morning, the owner gave us an extensive tour of his station. Being a rancher myself, I was fascinated by everything and couldn’t stop asking questions, all of which he was more than glad to answer.

  The station’s altitude was around twenty-five hundred feet and covered about twelve thousand acres which I learned was small for Australian stations in the area. The cool temperate climate was ideal for the raising of both sheep and cattle as well as growing livestock feed. Several creek systems fed into the ranch which made it less susceptible to damage during severe droughts. The place was quiet and beautiful.

  The next day the owner graciously loaned us his Range Rover and the four of us headed south to the coast where Sur and Jeremy were anxious to check out the surfing scene. As the station was located within a very isolated area of the southern highlands of New South Wales, we had to drive several hours along a very circuitous and steep road before we reached Moss Vale, the nearest town of any note. From there we drove to a city on the coast called Wollongong where we checked into a motel within driving distance of several surf spots Jeremy wanted to check out.

  We spent the next two days at four different surf locations, each recommended for experienced surfers only. To my inexperienced eyes, the surf at all of them looked rough and menacing. Jeremy smilingly referred to the conditions as being “gnarly”. I watched in awe as the three of them paddled out again and again at each location. At one place, they had to work very hard to get past what they referred to as the outside break. At each location, Cory would call it quits after returning to shore from his first attempt stating that conditions that day were just too extreme for his skills. Jeremy and Sur were more resolute and managed to enjoy a number of great rides. Jeremy appeared to be very selective in choosing waves and only entered those he considered manageable. As skilled as he was though, he wiped out more often than he would have liked. Sur, on the other hand, seemed to have no regard for his safety and challenged rough waves at will. He wiped out a lot and it was ugly to watch. But when he did manage great rides, you could tell by the smile on his face and body motions that he was euphoric. During our long drive back to the station, the three of them agreed that this would not be the last time they would surf these spots. Next time though, they would fly to Wollongong and avoid the difficult drive down from the station.

  Flying back home, Sur and I had several long discussions about the station. While I openly acknowledged that I knew little about cattle and sheep ranching specific to southeastern Australia, my observations of the station’s rangelands indicated that they had been well managed and not over-grazed. Based upon our back-of-the-envelope analysis of the applicable economics, we guessed that the ranch had been profitable in recent years. Sur had requested from the owner that he be sent copies of the ranch’s current financial records. Pending their review and finding everyth
ing in order, Sur was hell bent on buying the station. Then the gulp factor set in when he asked me to be responsible for overseeing its management.

  Once the deal was made, my first task would be to find and hire a station manager. After poring over resumes and talking by telephone to several qualified candidates, I settled on one who, on paper at least, was not only well qualified but could take over management upon closing which was scheduled to occur in a little over a month. After attending the closing in Sidney, I flew to the station and met with my new manager, Kevin, who had just moved there in the last week together with his family. Now in his late-thirties, he had grown up on an Australian station and most recently had been an assistant manager of a much larger station located several hundred miles away. After spending a week with him, I knew I had chosen the right man. Kevin and I would plan to converse by telephone frequently and every six months or so I would visit the station to check on how things were going. Sur had already asked me to tell Kevin to let us know if any adjoining stations might become available for purchase.

  Our New South Wales ranch, under Kevin’s management, prospered from the start and within three years had tripled in size following Sur’s acquisition of two adjoining stations. Elizabeth, the boys and I took a couple of great vacations at the ranch when the boys were younger. Riding horseback on the southern highlands countryside was so much different from riding the range in Idaho. The boys made quick friends with the station’s cowboys, or stockmen as they were called, telling them all about the Bar 7 and its bison herd. The stockmen were very impressed with the boys riding skills. The boys, of course, had to tell them all about their dad being a champion saddle bronc rider in college. I was always a little embarrassed when they did that.